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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/4744-h.zip b/4744-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..569ff62 --- /dev/null +++ b/4744-h.zip diff --git a/4744-h/4744-h.htm b/4744-h/4744-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d740941 --- /dev/null +++ b/4744-h/4744-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10604 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Ten Nights in a Bar Room, by T. S. Arthur +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.footnote {font-size: small ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.transnote {font-size: small ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.intro {font-size: medium ; + text-indent: -5% ; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ten Nights in a Bar Room, by T. S. Arthur + +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: Ten Nights in a Bar Room + +Author: T. S. Arthur + +Posting Date: September 11, 2009 [EBook #4744] +Release Date: December, 2003 +First Posted: March 12, 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +BY +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +T. S. ARTHUR +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + NIGHT THE FIRST—<A HREF="#chap01">THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF."</A><BR> + NIGHT THE SECOND—<A HREF="#chap02">THE CHANGES OF A YEAR.</A><BR> + NIGHT THE THIRD—<A HREF="#chap03">JOE MORGAN'S CHILD.</A><BR> + NIGHT THE FOURTH—<A HREF="#chap04">DEATH OF LITTLE MARY MORGAN.</A><BR> + NIGHT THE FIFTH—<A HREF="#chap05">SOME OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF TAVERN-KEEPING.</A><BR> + NIGHT THE SIXTH—<A HREF="#chap06">MORE CONSEQUENCES.</A><BR> + NIGHT THE SEVENTH—<A HREF="#chap07">SOWING THE WIND.</A><BR> + NIGHT THE EIGHTH—<A HREF="#chap08">REAPING THE WHIRLWIND.</A><BR> + NIGHT THE NINTH—<A HREF="#chap09">A FEARFUL CONSUMMATION.</A><BR> + NIGHT THE TENTH—<A HREF="#chap10">THE CLOSING SCENE AT THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF."</A><BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE FIRST. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." +</H3> + +<P> +Ten years ago, business required me to pass a day in Cedarville. It was +late in the afternoon when the stage set me down at the "Sickle and +Sheaf," a new tavern, just opened by a new landlord, in a new house, +built with the special end of providing "accommodations for man and +beast." As I stepped from the dusty old vehicle in which I had been +jolted along a rough road for some thirty miles, feeling tired and +hungry, the good-natured face of Simon Slade, the landlord, beaming as +it did with a hearty welcome, was really a pleasant sight to see, and +the grasp of his hand was like that of a true friend. +</P> + +<P> +I felt as I entered the new and neatly furnished sitting-room adjoining +the bar, that I had indeed found a comfortable resting-place after my +wearisome journey. +</P> + +<P> +"All as nice as a new pin," said I, approvingly, as I glanced around +the room, up to the ceiling—white as the driven snow—and over the +handsomely carpeted floor. "Haven't seen anything so inviting as this. +How long have you been open?" +</P> + +<P> +"Only a few months," answered the gratified landlord. "But we are not +yet in good going order. It takes time, you know, to bring everything +into the right shape. Have you dined yet?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Everything looked so dirty at the stage-house, where we stopped to +get dinner, that I couldn't venture upon the experiment of eating. How +long before your supper will be ready?" +</P> + +<P> +"In an hour," replied the landlord. +</P> + +<P> +"That will do. Let me have a nice piece of tender steak, and the loss +of dinner will soon be forgotten." +</P> + +<P> +"You shall have that, cooked fit for an alderman," said the landlord. +"I call my wife the best cook in Cedarville." +</P> + +<P> +As he spoke, a neatly dressed girl, about sixteen years of age, with +rather an attractive countenance, passed through the room. +</P> + +<P> +"My daughter," said the landlord, as she vanished through the door. +There was a sparkle of pride in the father's eyes, and a certain +tenderness in the tones of his voice, as he said "My daughter" that +told me she was very dear to him. +</P> + +<P> +"You are a happy man to have so fair a child," said I, speaking more in +compliment than with a careful choice of words. +</P> + +<P> +"I am a happy man," was the landlord's smiling answer; his fair, round +face, unwrinkled by a line of care or trouble, beaming with +self-satisfaction. "I have always been a happy man, and always expect +to be. Simon Slade takes the world as it comes, and takes it easy. My +son, sir," he added, as a boy, in his twelfth year, came in. "Speak to +the gentleman." +</P> + +<P> +The boy lifted to mine a pair of deep blue eyes, from which innocence +beamed, as he offered me his hand, and said, respectfully—"How do you +do, sir?" I could not but remark the girl-like beauty of his face, in +which the hardier firmness of the boy's character was already visible. +</P> + +<P> +"What is your name?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Frank, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"Frank is his name," said the landlord—"we called him after his uncle. +Frank and Flora—the names sound pleasant to the ears. But you know +parents are apt to be a little partial and over fond." +</P> + +<P> +"Better that extreme than its opposite," I remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"Just what I always say. Frank, my son,"—the landlord spoke to the +boy—"there's some one in the bar. You can wait on him as well as I +can." +</P> + +<P> +The lad glided from the room in ready obedience. +</P> + +<P> +"A handy boy that, sir; a very handy boy. Almost as good, in the bar as +a man. He mixes a toddy or a punch just as well as I can." +</P> + +<P> +"But," I suggested, "are you not a little afraid of placing one so +young in the way of temptation?" +</P> + +<P> +"Temptation!" The open brows of Simon Slade contracted a little. "No, +sir!" he replied, emphatically. "The till is safer under his care than +it would be in that of one man in ten. The boy comes, sir, of honest +parents. Simon Slade never wronged anybody out of a farthing." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh," said I, quickly, "you altogether misapprehend me. I had no +reference to the till, but to the bottle." +</P> + +<P> +The landlord's brows were instantly unbent, and a broad smile circled +over his good-humored face. +</P> + +<P> +"Is that all? Nothing to fear, I can assure you. Frank has no taste for +liquor, and might pour it out for mouths without a drop finding its way +to his lips. Nothing to apprehend there, sir—nothing." +</P> + +<P> +I saw that further suggestions of danger would be useless, and so +remained silent. The arrival of a traveler called away the landlord, +and I was left alone for observation and reflection. The bar adjoined +the neat sitting-room, and I could see, through the open door, the +customer upon whom the lad was attending. He was a well-dressed young +man—or rather boy, for he did not appear to be over nineteen years of +age—with a fine, intelligent face, that was already slightly marred by +sensual indulgence. He raised the glass to his lips, with a quick, +almost eager motion, and drained it at a single draught. +</P> + +<P> +"Just right," said he, tossing a sixpence to the young bar-tender. "You +are first rate at a brandy-toddy. Never drank a better in my life." +</P> + +<P> +The lad's smiling face told that he was gratified by the compliment. To +me the sight was painful, for I saw that this youthful tippler was on +dangerous ground. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is that young man in the bar?" I asked, a few minutes afterward, +on being rejoined by the landlord. +</P> + +<P> +Simon Slade stepped to the door and looked into the bar for a moment. +</P> + +<P> +Two or three men were there by this time; but he was at no loss in +answering my question. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, that's a son of Judge Hammond, who lives in the large brick house +as you enter the village. Willy Hammond, as everybody familiarly calls +him, is about the finest young man in our neighborhood. There is +nothing proud or put-on about him—nothing—even if his father is a +judge, and rich into the bargain. Every one, gentle or simple, likes +Willy Hammond. And then he is such good company. Always so cheerful, +and always with a pleasant story on his tongue. And he's so +high-spirited withal, and so honorable. Willy Hammond would lose his +right hand rather than be guilty of a mean action." +</P> + +<P> +"Landlord!" The voice came loud from the road in front of the house, +and Simon Slade again left me to answer the demands of some new-comer. +I went into the bar-room, in order to take a closer observation of +Willy Hammond, in whom an interest, not unmingled with concern, had +already been awakened in my mind. I found him engaged in a pleasant +conversation with a plain-looking farmer, whose homely, terse, common +sense was quite as conspicuous as his fine play of words and lively +fancy. The farmer was a substantial conservative, and young Hammond a +warm admirer of new ideas and the quicker adaptation of means to ends. +I soon saw that his mental powers were developed beyond his years, +while his personal qualities were strongly attractive. I understood +better, after being a silent listener and observer for ten minutes, why +the landlord had spoken of him so warmly. +</P> + +<P> +"Take a brandy-toddy, Mr. H—?" said Hammond, after the discussion +closed, good humoredly. "Frank, our junior bar-keeper here, beats his +father, in that line." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care if I do," returned the farmer; and the two passed up to +the bar. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, Frank, my boy, don't belie my praises," said the young man; "do +your handsomest." +</P> + +<P> +"Two brandy-toddies, did you say?" Frank made inquiry with quite a +professional air. +</P> + +<P> +"Just what I did say; and let them be equal to Jove's nectar." +</P> + +<P> +Pleased at this familiarity, the boy went briskly to his work of mixing +the tempting compound, while Hammond looked on with an approving smile. +</P> + +<P> +"There," said the latter, as Frank passed the glasses across the +counter, "if you don't call that first-rate, you're no judge." And he +handed one of them to the farmer, who tasted the agreeable draught, and +praised its flavor. As before, I noticed that Hammond drank eagerly, +like one athirst—emptying his glass without once taking it from his +lips. +</P> + +<P> +Soon after the bar-room was empty; and then I walked around the +premises, in company with the landlord, and listened to his praise of +everything and his plans and purposes for the future. The house, yard, +garden, and out-buildings were in the most perfect order; presenting, +in the whole, a model of a village tavern. +</P> + +<P> +"Whatever I do, sir," said the talkative Simon Slade, "I like to do +well. I wasn't just raised to tavern-keeping, you must know; but I am +one who can turn his hand to almost any thing." +</P> + +<P> +"What was your business?" I inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm a miller, sir, by trade," he answered—"and a better miller, +though I say it myself, is not to be found in Bolton county. I've +followed milling these twenty years, and made some little money. But I +got tired of hard work, and determined to lead an easier life. So I +sold my mill, and built this house with the money. I always thought I'd +like tavern-keeping. It's an easy life; and, if rightly seen after, one +in which a man is sure to make money." +</P> + +<P> +"You were still doing a fair business with your mill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes. Whatever I do, I do right. Last year, I put by a thousand +dollars above all expenses, which is not bad, I can assure you, for a +mere grist mill. If the present owner comes out even, he'll do well!" +</P> + +<P> +"How is that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, he's no miller. Give him the best wheat that is grown, and he'll +ruin it in grinding. He takes the life out of every grain. I don't +believe he'll keep half the custom that I transferred with the mill." +</P> + +<P> +"A thousand dollars, clear profit, in so useful a business, ought to +have satisfied you," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"There you and I differ," answered the landlord. "Every man desires to +make as much money as possible, and with the least labor. I hope to +make two or three thousand dollars a year, over and above all expenses, +at tavern-keeping. My bar alone ought to yield me that sum. A man with +a wife and children very naturally tries to do as well by them as +possible." +</P> + +<P> +"Very true; but," I ventured to suggest, "will this be doing as well by +them as if you had kept on at the mill?" +</P> + +<P> +"Two or three thousand dollars a year against one thousand! Where are +your figures, man?" +</P> + +<P> +"There may be something beyond money to take into the account," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" inquired Slade, with a kind of half credulity. +</P> + +<P> +"Consider the different influences of the two callings in life—that of +a miller and a tavern-keeper." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, say on." +</P> + +<P> +"Will your children be as safe from temptation here as in their former +home?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just as safe," was the unhesitating answer. "Why not?" +</P> + +<P> +I was about to speak of the alluring glass in the case of Frank, but +remembering that I had already expressed a fear in that direction, felt +that to do so again would be useless, and so kept silent. +</P> + +<P> +"A tavern-keeper," said Slade, "is just as respectable as a miller—in +fact, the very people who used to call me 'Simon' or 'Neighbor +Dustycoat,' now say 'Landlord,' or 'Mr. Slade,' and treat me in every +way more as if I were an equal than ever they did before." +</P> + +<P> +"The change," said I, "may be due to the fact of your giving evidence +of possessing some means. Men are very apt to be courteous to those who +have property. The building of the tavern has, without doubt, +contributed to the new estimation in which you are held." +</P> + +<P> +"That isn't all," replied the landlord. "It is because I am keeping a +good tavern, and thus materially advancing the interests of Cedarville, +that some of our best people look at me with different eyes." +</P> + +<P> +"Advancing the interests of Cedarville! In what way?" I did not +apprehend his meaning. +</P> + +<P> +"A good tavern always draws people to a place, while a miserable old +tumble-down of an affair, badly kept, such as we have had for years, as +surely repels them. You can generally tell something about the +condition of a town by looking at its taverns. If they are well kept, +and doing a good business, you will hardly be wrong in the conclusion +that the place is thriving. Why, already, since I built and opened the +'Sickle and Sheaf,' property has advanced over twenty per cent along +the whole street, and not less than five new houses have been +commenced." +</P> + +<P> +"Other causes, besides the simple opening of a new tavern, may have +contributed to this result," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"None of which I am aware. I was talking with Judge Hammond only +yesterday—he owns a great deal of ground on the street—and he did not +hesitate to say, that the building and opening of a good tavern here +had increased the value of his property at least five thousand dollars. +He said, moreover, that he thought the people of Cedarville ought to +present me with a silver pitcher; and that, for one, he would +contribute ten dollars for that purpose." +</P> + +<P> +The ringing of the supper bell interrupted further conversation; and +with the best of appetites, I took my way to the room, where a +plentiful meal was spread. As I entered, I met the wife of Simon Slade, +just passing out, after seeing that every thing was in order. I had not +observed her before; and now could not help remarking that she had a +flushed, excited countenance, as if she had been over a hot fire, and +was both worried and fatigued. And there was, moreover, a peculiar +expression of the mouth, never observed in one whose mind is entirely +at ease—an expression that once seen is never forgotten. The face +stamped itself instantly on my memory; and I can even now recall it +with almost the original distinctness. How strongly it contrasted with +that of her smiling, self-satisfied husband, who took his place at the +head of his table with an air of conscious importance. I was too hungry +to talk much, and so found greater enjoyment in eating than in +conversation. The landlord had a more chatty guest by his side, and I +left them to entertain each other, while I did ample justice to the +excellent food with which the table was liberally provided. +</P> + +<P> +After supper I went to the sitting-room, and remained there until the +lamps were lighted. A newspaper occupied my time for perhaps half an +hour; then the buzz of voices from the adjoining bar-room, which had +been increasing for some time, attracted my attention, and I went in +there to see and hear what was passing. The first person upon whom my +eyes rested was young Hammond, who sat talking with a man older than +himself by several years. At a glance, I saw that this man could only +associate himself with Willy Hammond as a tempter. Unscrupulous +selfishness was written all over his sinister countenance; and I +wondered that it did not strike every one, as it did me, with instant +repulsion. There could not be, I felt certain, any common ground of +association, for two such persons, but the dead level of a village +bar-room. I afterward learned, during the evening, that this man's name +was Harvey Green, and that he was an occasional visitor at Cedarville, +remaining a few days, or a few weeks at a time, as appeared to suit his +fancy, and having no ostensible business or special acquaintance with +anybody in the village. +</P> + +<P> +"There is one thing about him," remarked Simon Slade, in answering some +question that I put in reference to the man, "that I don't object to; +he has plenty of money, and is not at all niggardly in spending it. He +used to come here, so he told me, about once in five or six months; but +his stay at the miserably kept tavern, the only one then in Cedarville, +was so uncomfortable, that he had pretty well made up his mind never to +visit us again. Now, however, he has engaged one of my best rooms, for +which he pays me by the year, and I am to charge him full board for the +time he occupies it. He says that there is something about Cedarville +that always attracts him; and that his health is better while here than +it is anywhere except South during the winter season. He'll never leave +less than two or three hundred dollars a year in our village—there is +one item, for you, of advantage to a place in having a good tavern." +</P> + +<P> +"What is his business?" I asked. "Is he engaged in any trading +operations?" +</P> + +<P> +The landlord shrugged his shoulders, and looked slightly mysterious, as +he answered: +</P> + +<P> +"I never inquire about the business of a guest. My calling is to +entertain strangers. If they are pleased with my house, and pay my +bills on presentation, I have no right to seek further. As a miller, I +never asked a customer, whether he raised, bought, or stole his wheat. +It was my business to grind it, and I took care to do it well. Beyond +that, it was all his own affair. And so it will be in my new calling. I +shall mind my own business and keep my own place." +</P> + +<P> +Besides young Hammond and this Harvey Green, there were in the +bar-room, when I entered, four others besides the landlord. Among these +was a Judge Lyman—so he was addressed—a man between forty and fifty +years of age, who had a few weeks before received the Democratic +nomination for member of Congress. He was very talkative and very +affable, and soon formed a kind of centre of attraction to the bar-room +circle. Among other topics of conversation that came up was the new +tavern, introduced by the landlord, in whose mind it was, very +naturally, the uppermost thought. +</P> + +<P> +"The only wonder to me is," said Judge Lyman, "that nobody had wit +enough to see the advantage of a good tavern in Cedarville ten years +ago, or enterprise enough to start one. I give our friend Slade the +credit of being a shrewd, far-seeing man; and, mark my word for it, in +ten years from to-day he will be the richest man in the county." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense—Ho! ho!" Simon Slade laughed outright. "The richest man! You +forget Judge Hammond." +</P> + +<P> +"No, not even Judge Hammond, with all deference for our clever friend +Willy," and Judge Lyman smiled pleasantly on the young man. +</P> + +<P> +"If he gets richer, somebody will be poorer!" The individual who +tittered these words had not spoken before, and I turned to look at him +more closely. A glance showed him to be one of a class seen in all +bar-rooms; a poor, broken-down inebriate, with the inward power of +resistance gone—conscious of having no man's respect, and giving +respect to none. There was a shrewd twinkle in his eyes, as he fixed +them on Slade, that gave added force to the peculiar tone in which his +brief but telling sentence was uttered. I noticed a slight contraction +on the landlord's ample forehead, the first evidence I had yet seen of +ruffled feelings. The remark, thrown in so untimely (or timely, some +will say), and with a kind of prophetic malice, produced a temporary +pause in the conversation. No one answered or questioned the intruder, +who, I could perceive, silently enjoyed the effect of his words. But +soon the obstructed current ran on again. +</P> + +<P> +"If our excellent friend, Mr. Slade," said Harvey Green, "is not the +richest man in Cedarville at the end of ten years, he will at least +enjoy the satisfaction of having made his town richer." +</P> + +<P> +"A true word that," replied Judge Lyman—"as true a word as ever was +spoken. What a dead-and-alive place this has been until within the last +few months. All vigorous growth had stopped, and we were actually going +to seed." +</P> + +<P> +"And the graveyard, too," muttered the individual who had before +disturbed the self-satisfied harmony of the company, remarking upon the +closing sentence of Harvey Green. "Come, landlord," he added, as he +strode across to the bar, speaking in a changed, reckless sort of a +way, "fix me up a good hot whisky-punch, and do it right; and here's +another sixpence toward the fortune you are bound to make. It's the +last one left—not a copper more in my pockets," and he turned them +inside-out, with a half-solemn, half-ludicrous air. "I send it to keep +company in your till with four others that have found their way into +that snug place since morning, and which will be lonesome without their +little friend." +</P> + +<P> +I looked at Simon Slade; his eyes rested on mine for a moment or two, +and then sunk beneath my earnest gaze. I saw that his countenance +flushed, and that his motions were slightly confused. The incident, it +was plain, did not awaken agreeable thoughts. Once I saw his hand move +toward the sixpence that lay upon the counter; but whether to push it +back or draw it toward the till, I could not determine. The +whisky-punch was in due time ready, and with it the man retired to a +table across the room, and sat down to enjoy the tempting beverage. As +he did so, the landlord quietly swept the poor unfortunate's last +sixpence into his drawer. The influence of this strong potation was to +render the man a little more talkative. To the free conversation +passing around him he lent an attentive ear, dropping in a word, now +and then, that always told upon the company like a well-directed blow. +At last, Slade lost all patience with him, and said, a little fretfully: +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, Joe Morgan, if you will be ill-natured, pray go somewhere +else, and not interrupt good feeling among gentlemen." +</P> + +<P> +"Got my last sixpence," retorted Joe, turning his pockets inside-out +again. "No more use for me here to-night. That's the way of the world. +How apt a scholar is our good friend Dustycoat, in this new school! +Well, he was a good miller—no one ever disputed that—and it's plain +to see that he is going to make a good landlord. I thought his heart +was a little too soft; but the indurating process has begun, and, in +less than ten years, if it isn't as hard as one of his old mill-stones, +Joe Morgan is no prophet. Oh, you needn't knit your brows so, friend +Simon, we're old friends; and friends are privileged to speak plain." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you'd go home. You're not yourself tonight," said the landlord, +a little coaxingly, for he saw that nothing was to be gained by +quarreling with Morgan. "Maybe my heart is growing harder," he added, +with affected good-humor; "and it is time, perhaps. One of my +weaknesses, I have heard even you say, was being too woman-hearted." +</P> + +<P> +"No danger of that now," retorted Joe Morgan. "I've known a good many +landlords in my time, but can't remember one that was troubled with the +disease that once afflicted you." +</P> + +<P> +Just at this moment the outer door was pushed open with a slow, +hesitating motion; then a little pale face peered in, and a pair of +soft blue eyes went searching about the room. Conversation was +instantly hushed, and every face, excited with interest, turned toward +the child, who had now stepped through the door. She was not over ten +years of age; but it moved the heart to look upon the saddened +expression of her young countenance, and the forced bravery therein, +that scarcely overcame the native timidity so touchingly visible. +</P> + +<P> +"Father!" I have never heard this word spoken in a voice that sent such +a thrill along every nerve. It was full of sorrowful love—full of a +tender concern that had its origin too deep for the heart of a child. +As she spoke, the little one sprang across the room, and laying her +hands upon the arm of Joe Morgan, lifted her eyes, that were ready to +gush over with tears, to his face. +</P> + +<P> +"Come father! won't you come home?" I hear that low, pleading voice +even now, and my heart gives a quicker throb. Poor child! Darkly +shadowed was the sky that bent gloomily over thy young life. +</P> + +<P> +Morgan arose, and suffered the child to lead him from the room. He +seemed passive in her hands. I noticed that he thrust his fingers +nervously into his pocket, and that a troubled look went over his face +as they were withdrawn. His last sixpence was in the till of Simon +Slade! +</P> + +<P> +The first man who spoke was Harvey Green, and this not for a minute +after the father and his child had vanished through the door. +</P> + +<P> +"If I was in your place, landlord"—his voice was cold and +unfeeling—"I'd pitch that fellow out of the bar-room the next time he +stepped through the door. He's no business here, in the first place; +and, in the second, he doesn't know how to behave himself. There's no +telling how much a vagabond like him injures a respectable house." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish he would stay away," said Simon, with a perplexed air. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd make him stay away," answered Green. +</P> + +<P> +"That may be easier said than done," remarked Judge Lyman. "Our friend +keeps a public-house, and can't just say who shall or shall not come +into it." +</P> + +<P> +"But such a fellow has no business here. He's a good-for-nothing sot. +If I kept a tavern, I'd refuse to sell him liquor." +</P> + +<P> +"That you might do," said Judge Lyman; "and I presume your hint will +not be lost on our friend Slade." +</P> + +<P> +"He will have liquor, so long as he can get a cent to buy it with," +remarked one of the company; "and I don't see why our landlord here, +who has gone to so much expense to fit up a tavern, shouldn't have the +sale of it as well as anybody else. Joe talks a little freely +sometimes; but no one can say that he is quarrelsome. You've got to +take him as he is, that's all." +</P> + +<P> +"I am one," retorted Harvey Green, with a slightly ruffled manner, "who +is never disposed to take people as they are when they choose to render +themselves disagreeable. If I was Mr. Slade, as I remarked in the +beginning, I'd pitch that fellow into the road the next time he put his +foot over my door step." +</P> + +<P> +"Not if I were present," remarked the other, coolly. +</P> + +<P> +Green was on his feet in a moment, and I saw, from the flash of his +eyes, that he was a man of evil passions. Moving a pace or two in the +direction of the other, he said sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"What is that, sir?" +</P> + +<P> +The individual against whom his anger was so suddenly aroused was +dressed plainly, and had the appearance of a working man. He was stout +and muscular. +</P> + +<P> +"I presume you heard my words. They were spoken distinctly," he +replied, not moving from where he sat, nor seeming to be in the least +disturbed. But there was a cool defiance in the tones of his voice and +in the steady look of his eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"You're an impertinent fellow, and I'm half tempted to chastise you." +</P> + +<P> +Green had scarcely finished the sentence, ere he was lying full length +upon the floor. The other had sprung upon him like a tiger, and with +one blow from his heavy fist, struck him down as if he had been a +child. For a moment or two, Green lay stunned and bewildered—then, +starting up with a savage cry, that sounded more bestial than human, he +drew a long knife from a concealed sheath, and attempted to stab his +assailant, but the murderous purpose was not accomplished, for the +other man, who had superior strength and coolness, saw the design, and +with a well directed blow almost broke the arm of Green, causing the +knife to leave his hand and glide far across the room. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm half tempted to wring your neck off," exclaimed the man, whose +name was Lyon, now much excited, and seizing Green by the throat, he +strangled him until his face grew black. "Draw a knife on me, ha! You +murdering villain!" And he gripped him tighter. +</P> + +<P> +Judge Lyman and the landlord now interfered, and rescued Green from the +hands of his fully aroused antagonist. For some time they stood +growling at each other, like two parted dogs struggling to get free, in +order to renew the conflict, but gradually cooled off. In a little +while Judge Lyman drew Green aside, and the two men left the bar-room +to other. In the door, as they were retiring, the former slightly +nodded to Willy Hammond, who soon followed them, going into the sitting +room, and from thence, as I could perceive, upstairs to an apartment +above. +</P> + +<P> +"Not after much good," I heard Lyon mutter to himself. "If Judge +Hammond don't look a little closer after that boy of his, he'll be +sorry for it, that's all." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is this Green?" I asked of Lyon, finding myself alone with him in +the bar-room soon after. +</P> + +<P> +"A blackleg, I take it," was his unhesitating answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Does Judge Lyman suspect his real character?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know anything about that, but I wouldn't be afraid to bet ten +dollars, that if you could look in upon them now, you would find cards +in their hands." +</P> + +<P> +"What a school, and what teachers for the youth who just went with +them!" I could not help remarking. +</P> + +<P> +"Willy Hammond?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"You may well say that. What can his father be thinking about to leave +him exposed to such influences!" +</P> + +<P> +"He's one of the few who are in raptures about this tavern, because its +erection has slightly increased the value of his property about here, +but if he is not the loser of fifty per cent for every one gained, +before ten years go by, I'm very much in error." +</P> + +<P> +"How so?" +</P> + +<P> +"It will prove, I fear, the open door to ruin to his son." +</P> + +<P> +"That's bad," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"Bad! It is awful to think of. There is not a finer young man in the +country, nor one with better mind and heart, than Willy Hammond. So +much the sadder will be his destruction. Ah, sir! this tavern-keeping +is a curse to any place." +</P> + +<P> +"But I thought, just now, that you spoke in favor of letting even the +poor drunkard's money go into the landlord's till, in order to +encourage his commendable enterprise in opening so good a tavern." +</P> + +<P> +"We all speak with covert irony sometimes," answered the man, "as I did +then. Poor Joe Morgan! He is an old and early friend of Simon Slade. +They were boys together, and worked as millers under the same roof for +many years. In fact, Joe's father owned the mill, and the two learned +their trade with him. When old Morgan died, the mill came into Joe's +hands. It was in rather a worn-out condition, and Joe went in debt for +some pretty thorough repairs and additions of machinery. By and by, +Simon Slade, who was hired by Joe to run the mill, received a couple of +thousand dollars at the death of an aunt. This sum enabled him to buy a +share in the mill, which Morgan was very glad to sell in order to get +clear of his debt. Time passed on, and Joe left his milling interest +almost entirely in the care of Slade, who, it must be said in his +favor, did not neglect the business. But it somehow happened—I will +not say unfairly—that at the end of ten years, Joe Morgan no longer +owned a share in the mill. The whole property was in the hands of +Slade. People did not much wonder at this; for while Slade was always +to be found at the mill, industrious, active, and attentive to +customers, Morgan was rarely seen on the premises. You would oftener +find him in the woods, with a gun over his shoulder, or sitting by a +trout brook, or lounging at the tavern. And yet everybody liked Joe, +for he was companionable, quick-witted, and very kind-hearted. He would +say sharp things, sometimes, when people manifested little meannesses; +but there was so much honey in his gall, that bitterness rarely +predominated. +</P> + +<P> +"A year or two before his ownership in the mill ceased, Morgan married +one of the sweetest girls in our town—Fanny Ellis, that was her name, +and she could have had her pick of the young men. Everybody affected to +wonder at her choice; and yet nobody really did wonder, for Joe was an +attractive young man, take him as you would, and just the one to win +the heart of a girl like Fanny. What if he had been seen, now and then, +a little the worse for drink! What if he showed more fondness for +pleasure than for business! Fanny did not look into the future with +doubt or fear. She believed that her love was strong enough to win him +from all evil allurements: and, as for this world's goods, they were +matters in which her maiden fancies rarely busied themselves. +</P> + +<P> +"Well. Dark days came for her, poor soul! And yet, in all the darkness +of her earthly lot, she has never, it is said, been anything but a +loving, forbearing, self-denying wife to Morgan. And he—fallen as he +is, and powerless in the grasp of the monster intemperance—has never, +I am sure, hurt her with a cruel word. Had he added these, her heart +would, long ere this, have broken. Poor Joe Morgan! Poor Fanny! Oh, +what a curse is this drink!" +</P> + +<P> +The man, warming with his theme, had spoken with an eloquence I had not +expected from his lips. Slightly overmastered by his feelings, he +paused for a moment or two, and then added: +</P> + +<P> +"It was unfortunate for Joe, at least, that Slade sold his mill, and +became a tavern-keeper; for Joe had a sure berth, and wages regularly +paid. He didn't always stick to his work, but would go off on a spree +every now and then; but Slade bore with all this, and worked harder +himself to make up for his hand's shortcoming. And no matter what +deficiency the little store-room at home might show, Fanny Morgan never +found her meal barrel empty without knowing where to get it replenished. +</P> + +<P> +"But, after Slade sold his mill, a sad change took place. The new owner +was little disposed to pay wages to a hand who would not give him all +his time during working hours; and in less than two weeks from the day +he took possession, Morgan was discharged. Since then, he has been +working about at one odd job and another, earning scarcely enough to +buy the liquor it requires to feed the inordinate thirst that is +consuming him. I am not disposed to blame Simon Slade for the +wrong-doing of Morgan; but here is a simple fact in the case—if he had +kept on at the useful calling of a miller, he would have saved this +man's family from want, suffering, and a lower deep of misery than that +into which they have already fallen. I merely state it, and you can +draw your own conclusions. It is one of the many facts, on the other +side of this tavern question, which it will do no harm to mention. I +have noted a good many facts besides, and one is, that before Slade +opened the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' he did all in his power to save his +early friend from the curse of intemperance; now he has become his +tempter. Heretofore, it was his hand that provided the means for his +family to live in some small degree of comfort; now he takes the poor +pittance the wretched man earns, and dropping it in his till, forgets +the wife and children at home who are hungry for the bread this money +should have purchased. +</P> + +<P> +"Joe Morgan, fallen as he is, sir, is no fool. His mind sees quickly +yet; and he rarely utters a sentiment that is not full of meaning. When +he spoke of Blade's heart growing as hard in ten years as one of his +old mill-stones, he was not uttering words at random, nor merely +indulging in a harsh sentiment, little caring whether it were closely +applicable or not. That the indurating process had begun, he, alas! was +too sadly conscious." +</P> + +<P> +The landlord had been absent from the room for some time. He left soon +after Judge Lyman, Harvey Green, and Willy Hammond withdrew, and I did +not see him again during the evening. His son Frank was left to attend +at the bar; no very hard task, for not more than half a dozen called in +to drink from the time Morgan left until the bar was closed. +</P> + +<P> +While Mr. Lyon was giving me the brief history just recorded, I noticed +a little incident that caused a troubled feeling to pervade my mind. +After a man, for whom the landlord's son had prepared a fancy drink, +had nearly emptied his glass, he set it down upon the counter and went +out. A tablespoonful or two remained in the glass, and I noticed Frank, +after smelling at it two or three times, put the glass to his lips and +sip the sweetened liquor. The flavor proved agreeable; for, after +tasting it, he raised the glass again and drained every drop. +</P> + +<P> +"Frank!" I heard a low voice, in a warning tone, pronounce the name, +and glancing toward a door partly open, that led from the inside of the +bar to the yard, I saw the face of Mrs. Slade. It had the same troubled +expression I had noticed before, but now blended with anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +The boy went out at the call of his mother; and when a new customer +entered, I noticed that Flora, the daughter, came in to wait upon him. +I noticed, too, that while she poured out the liquor, there was a +heightened color on her face, in which I fancied that I saw a tinge of +shame. It is certain that she was not in the least gracious to the +person on whom she was waiting; and that there was little heart in her +manner of performing the task. +</P> + +<P> +Ten o'clock found me alone and musing in the barroom over the +occurrences of the evening. Of all the incidents, that of the entrance +of Joe Morgan's child kept the most prominent place in my thoughts. The +picture of that mournful little face was ever before me; and I seemed +all the while to hear the word "Father," uttered so touchingly, and yet +with such a world of childish tenderness. And the man, who would have +opposed the most stubborn resistance to his fellow-men, had they sought +to force him from the room, going passively, almost meekly out, led by +that little child—I could not, for a time, turn my thoughts from the +image thereof! And then thought bore me to the wretched home, back to +which the gentle, loving child had taken her father, and my heart grew +faint in me as imagination busied itself with all the misery there. +</P> + +<P> +And Willy Hammond. The little that I had heard and seen of him greatly +interested me in his favor. Ah! upon what dangerous ground was he +treading. How many pitfalls awaited his feet—how near they were to the +brink of a fearful precipice, down which to fall was certain +destruction. How beautiful had been his life-promise! How fair the +opening day of his existence! Alas! the clouds were gathering already, +and the low rumble of the distant thunder presaged the coming of a +fearful tempest. Was there none to warn him of the danger? Alas! all +might now come too late, for so few who enter the path in which his +steps were treading will hearken to friendly counsel, or heed the +solemn warning. Where was he now? This question recurred over and over +again. He had left the bar-room with Judge Lyman and Green early in the +evening, and had not made his appearance since. Who and what was Green? +And Judge Lyman, was he a man of principle? One with whom it was safe +to trust a youth like Willy Hammond? +</P> + +<P> +While I mused thus, the bar-room door opened, and a man past the prime +of life, with a somewhat florid face, which gave a strong relief to the +gray, almost white hair that, suffered to grow freely, was pushed back, +and lay in heavy masses on his coat collar, entered with a hasty step. +He was almost venerable in appearance; yet there was in his dark, quick +eyes the brightness of unquenched loves, the fires of which were +kindled at the altars of selfishness and sensuality. This I saw at a +glance. There was a look of concern on his face, as he threw his eyes +around the bar-room; and he seemed disappointed, I thought, at finding +it empty. +</P> + +<P> +"Is Simon Slade here?" +</P> + +<P> +As I answered in the negative, Mrs. Slade entered through the door that +opened from the yard, and stood behind the counter. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, Mrs. Slade! Good evening, madam!" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"Good evening, Judge Hammond." +</P> + +<P> +"Is your husband at home?" +</P> + +<P> +"I believe he is," answered Mrs. Slade. "I think he is somewhere about +the house." +</P> + +<P> +"Ask him to step here, will you?" +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Slade went out. Nearly five minutes went by, during which time +Judge Hammond paced the floor of the bar-room uneasily. Then the +landlord made his appearance. The free, open, manly, self-satisfied +expression of his countenance, which I had remarked on alighting from +the stage in the afternoon, was gone. I noticed at once the change, for +it was striking. He did not look steadily into the face of Judge +Hammond, who asked him, in a low voice, if his son had been there +during the evening. +</P> + +<P> +"He was here," said Slade. +</P> + +<P> +"When?" +</P> + +<P> +"He came in some time after dark and stayed, maybe, an hour." +</P> + +<P> +"And hasn't been here since?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's nearly two hours since he left the bar-room," replied the +landlord. +</P> + +<P> +Judge Hammond seemed perplexed. There was a degree of evasion in +Slade's manner that he could hardly help noticing. To me it was all +apparent, for I had lively suspicions that made my observation acute. +</P> + +<P> +Judge Hammond crossed his arms behind him, and took three or four +strides about the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"Was Judge Lyman here to-night?" he then asked. +</P> + +<P> +"He was," answered Slade. +</P> + +<P> +"Did he and Willy go out together?" +</P> + +<P> +The question seemed an unexpected one for the landlord. Slade appeared +slightly confused, and did not answer promptly. +</P> + +<P> +"I—I rather think they did," he said, after a brief hesitation. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, well! Perhaps he is at Judge Lyman's. I will call over there." +</P> + +<P> +And Judge Hammond left the bar-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Would you like to retire, sir?" said the landlord, now turning to me, +with a forced smile—I saw that it was forced. +</P> + +<P> +"If you please," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +He lit a candle and conducted me to my room, where, overwearied with +the day's exertion, I soon fell asleep, and did not awake until the sun +was shining brightly into my windows. +</P> + +<P> +I remained at the village a portion of the day, but saw nothing of the +parties in whom the incidents of the previous evening had awakened a +lively interest. At four o'clock I left in the stage, and did not visit +Cedarville again for a year. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE SECOND. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CHANGES OF A YEAR. +</H3> + +<P> +A cordial grasp of the hand and a few words of hearty welcome greeted +me as I alighted from the stage at the "Sickle and Sheaf," on my next +visit to Cedarville. At the first glance, I saw no change in the +countenance, manner, or general bearing of Simon Slade, the landlord. +With him, the year seemed to have passed like a pleasant summer day. +His face was round, and full, and rosy, and his eyes sparkled with that +good humor which flows from intense self-satisfaction. Everything about +him seemed to say—"All 'right with myself and the world." +</P> + +<P> +I had scarcely expected this. From what I saw during my last brief +sojourn at the "Sickle and Sheaf," the inference was natural, that +elements had been called into activity, which must produce changes +adverse to those pleasant states of mind that threw an almost perpetual +sunshine over the landlord's countenance. How many hundreds of times +had I thought of Tom Morgan and Willy Hammond—of Frank, and the +temptations to which a bar-room exposed him. The heart of Slade must, +indeed, be as hard as one of his old mill-stones, if he could remain an +unmoved witness of the corruption and degradation of these. +</P> + +<P> +"My fears have outrun the actual progress of things," said I to myself, +with a sense of relief, as I mused alone in the still neatly arranged +sitting-room, after the landlord, who sat and chatted for a few +minutes, had left me. "There is, I am willing to believe, a basis of +good in this man's character, which has led him to remove, as far as +possible, the more palpable evils that ever attach themselves to a +house of public entertainment. He had but entered on the business last +year. There was much to be learned, pondered, and corrected. +Experience, I doubt not, has led to many important changes in the +manner of conducting the establishment, and especially in what pertains +to the bar." +</P> + +<P> +As I thought thus, my eyes glanced through the half-open door, and +rested on the face of Simon Slade. He was standing behind his +bar—evidently alone in the room—with his head bent in a musing +attitude. At first I was in some doubt as to the identity of the +singularly changed countenance. Two deep perpendicular seams lay +sharply defined on his forehead—the arch of his eyebrows was gone, and +from each corner of his compressed lips, lines were seen reaching +half-way to the chin. Blending with a slightly troubled expression, was +a strongly marked selfishness, evidently brooding over the consummation +of its purpose. For some moments I sat gazing on his face, half +doubting at times if it were really that of Simon Slade. Suddenly a +gleam flashed over it—an ejaculation was uttered, and one clenched +hand brought down, with a sharp stroke, into the open palm of the +other. The landlord's mind had reached a conclusion, and was resolved +upon action. There were no warm rays in the gleam of light that +irradiated his countenance—at least none for my heart, which felt +under them an almost icy coldness. +</P> + +<P> +"Just the man I was thinking about." I heard the landlord say, as some +one entered the bar, while his whole manner underwent a sudden change. +</P> + +<P> +"The old saying is true," was answered in a voice, the tones of which +were familiar to my ears. +</P> + +<P> +"Thinking of the old Harry?" said Slade. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"True, literally, in the present case," I heard the landlord remark, +though in a much lower tone; "for, if you are not the devil himself, +you can't be farther removed than a second cousin." +</P> + +<P> +A low, gurgling laugh met this little sally. There was something in it +so unlike a human laugh, that it caused my blood to trickle, for a +moment, coldly along my veins. +</P> + +<P> +I heard nothing more except the murmur of voices in the bar, for a hand +shut the partly opened door that led from the sitting room. +</P> + +<P> +Whose was that voice? I recalled its tones, and tried to fix in my +thought the person to whom it belonged, but was unable to do so. I was +not very long in doubt, for on stepping out on the porch in front of +the tavern, the well remembered face of Harvey Green presented itself. +He stood in the bar-room door, and was talking earnestly to Slade, +whose back was toward me. I saw that he recognized me, although I had +not passed a word with him on the occasion of my former visit, and +there was a lighting up of his countenance as if about to speak—but I +withdrew my eyes from his face to avoid the unwelcome greeting. When I +looked at him again, I saw that he was regarding me with a sinister +glance, which was instantly withdrawn. In what broad, black characters +was the word TEMPTER written on his face! How was it possible for +anyone to look thereon, and not read the warning inscription! +</P> + +<P> +Soon after, he withdrew into the bar-room and the landlord came and +took a seat near me on the porch. +</P> + +<P> +"How is the 'Sickle and Sheaf' coming on?" I inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"First rate," was the answer—"First rate." +</P> + +<P> +"As well as you expected?" +</P> + +<P> +"Better." +</P> + +<P> +"Satisfied with your experiment?" +</P> + +<P> +"Perfectly. Couldn't get me back to the rumbling old mill again, if you +were to make me a present of it." +</P> + +<P> +"What of the mill?" I asked. "How does the new owner come on?" +</P> + +<P> +"About as I thought it would be." +</P> + +<P> +"Not doing very well?" +</P> + +<P> +"How could it be expected when he didn't know enough of the milling +business to grind a bushel of wheat right? He lost half of the custom I +transferred to him in less than three months. Then he broke his main +shaft, and it took over three weeks to get in a new one. Half of his +remaining customers discovered by this time, that they could get far +better meal from their grain at Harwood's mill near Lynwood, and so did +not care to trouble him any more. The upshot of the whole matter is, he +broke down next, and had to sell the mill at a heavy loss." +</P> + +<P> +"Who has it now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Hammond is the purchaser." +</P> + +<P> +"He is going to rent it, I suppose?" +</P> + +<P> +"No; I believe he means to turn it into some kind of a factory—and, I +rather think, will connect therewith a distillery. This is a fine +grain-growing country, as you know. If he does set up a distillery +he'll make a fine thing of it. Grain has been too low in this section +for some years; this all the farmers have felt, and they are very much +pleased at the idea. It will help them wonderfully. I always thought my +mill a great thing for the farmers; but what I did for them was a mere +song compared to the advantage of an extensive distillery." +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Hammond is one of your richest men?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—the richest in the county. And what is more, he's a shrewd, +far-seeing man, and knows how to multiply his riches." +</P> + +<P> +"How is his son Willy coming on?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! first-rate." +</P> + +<P> +The landlord's eyes fell under the searching look I bent upon him. +</P> + +<P> +"How old is he now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just twenty." +</P> + +<P> +"A critical age," I remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"So people say; but I didn't find it so," answered Slade, a little +distantly. +</P> + +<P> +"The impulses within and the temptations without, are the measure of +its dangers. At his age, you were, no doubt, daily employed at hard +work." +</P> + +<P> +"I was, and no mistake." +</P> + +<P> +"Thousands and hundreds of thousands are indebted to useful work, +occupying many hours through each day, and leaving them with wearied +bodies at night, for their safe passage from yielding youth to firm, +resisting manhood. It might not be with you as it is now, had leisure +and freedom to go in and out when you pleased been offered at the age +of nineteen." +</P> + +<P> +"I can't tell as to that," said the landlord, shrugging his shoulders. +"But I don't see that Willy Hammond is in any especial danger. He is a +young man with many admirable qualities—is social-liberal—generous +almost to a fault—but has good common sense, and wit enough, I take +it, to keep out of harm's way." +</P> + +<P> +A man passing the house at the moment, gave Simon Slade an opportunity +to break off a conversation that was not, I could see, altogether +agreeable. As he left me, I arose and stepped into the bar-room. Frank, +the landlord's son, was behind the bar. He had grown considerably in +the year—and from a rather delicate, innocent-looking boy, to a stout, +bold lad. His face was rounder, and had a gross, sensual expression, +that showed itself particularly about the mouth. The man Green was +standing beside the bar talking to him, and I noticed that Frank +laughed heartily, at some low, half obscene remarks that he was making. +In the midst of these, Flora, the sister of Frank, a really beautiful +girl, came in to get something from the bar. Green spoke to her +familiarly, and Flora answered him with a perceptibly heightening color. +</P> + +<P> +I glanced toward Frank, half expecting to see an indignant flush on his +young face. But no—he looked on with a smile! "Ah!" thought I, "have +the boy's pure impulses so soon died out in this fatal atmosphere? Can +he bear to see those evil eyes—he knows they are evil—rest upon the +face of his sister? or to hear those lips, only a moment since polluted +with vile words, address her with the familiarity of a friend?" +</P> + +<P> +"Fine girl, that sister of yours, Frank! Fine girl!" said Green, after +Flora had withdrawn—speaking of her with about as much respect in his +voice as if he were praising a fleet racer or a favorite hound. +</P> + +<P> +The boy smiled, with a pleased air. +</P> + +<P> +"I must try and find her a good husband, Frank. I wonder if she +wouldn't have me?" +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better ask her," said the boy, laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"I would if I thought there was any chance for me." +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing like trying. Faint heart never won fair lady," returned Frank, +more with the air of a man than a boy. How fast he was growing old! +</P> + +<P> +"A banter, by George!" exclaimed Green, slapping his hands together. +"You're a great boy, Frank! a great boy! I shall have to talk to your +father about you. Coming on too fast. Have to be put back in your +lessons—hey!" +</P> + +<P> +And Green winked at the boy, and shook his finger at him. Frank laughed +in a pleased way, as he replied: "I guess I'll do." +</P> + +<P> +"I guess you will," said Green, as, satisfied with his colloquy, he +turned off and left the bar-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Have something to drink, sir?" inquired Frank, addressing me in a +bold, free way. +</P> + +<P> +I shook my head. +</P> + +<P> +"Here's a newspaper," he added. +</P> + +<P> +I took the paper and sat down—not to read, but to observe. Two or +three men soon came in, and spoke in a very familiar way to Frank, who +was presently busy setting out the liquors they had called for. Their +conversation, interlarded with much that was profane and vulgar, was of +horses, horse-racing, gunning, and the like, to all of which the young +bar-tender lent an attentive ear, putting in a word now and then, and +showing an intelligence in such matters quite beyond his age. In the +midst thereof, Mr. Slade made his appearance. His presence caused a +marked change in Frank, who retired from his place among the men, a +step or two outside of the bar, and did not make a remark while his +father remained. It was plain from this, that Mr. Slade was not only +aware of Frank's dangerous precocity, but had already marked his +forwardness by rebuke. +</P> + +<P> +So far, all that I had seen and heard impressed me unfavorably, +notwithstanding the declaration of Simon Slade, that everything about +the "Sickle and Sheaf" was coming on "first-rate," and that he was +"perfectly satisfied" with his experiment. Why, even if the man had +gained, in money, fifty thousand dollars by tavern-keeping in a year, +he had lost a jewel in the innocence of his boy that was beyond all +valuation. "Perfectly satisfied?" Impossible! He was not perfectly +satisfied. How could he be? The look thrown upon Frank when he entered +the bar-room, and saw him "hale fellow, well met," with three or four +idle, profane, drinking customers, contradicted that assertion. +</P> + +<P> +After supper, I took a seat in the bar-room, to see how life moved on +in that place of rendezvous for the surface-population of Cedarville. +Interest enough in the characters I had met there a year before +remained for me to choose this way of spending the time, instead of +visiting at the house of a gentleman who had kindly invited me to pass +an evening with his family. +</P> + +<P> +The bar-room custom, I soon found, had largely increased in a year. It +now required, for a good part of the time, the active services of both +the landlord and his son to meet the calls for liquor. What pained me +most, was to see the large number of lads and young men who came in to +lounge and drink; and there was scarcely one of them whose face did not +show marks of sensuality, or whose language was not marred by +obscenity, profanity, or vulgar slang. The subjects of conversation +were varied enough, though politics was the most prominent. In regard +to politics I heard nothing in the least instructive; but only abuse of +individuals and dogmatism on public measures. They were all exceedingly +confident in assertion; but I listened in vain for exposition, or even +for demonstrative facts. He who asseverated in the most positive +manner, and swore the hardest, carried the day in the petty contests. +</P> + +<P> +I noticed, early in the evening, and at a time when all the inmates of +the room were in the best possible humor with themselves, the entrance +of an elderly man, on whose face I instantly read a deep concern. It +was one of those mild, yet strongly marked faces, that strike you at a +glance. The forehead was broad, the eyes large and far back in their +sockets, the lips full but firm. You saw evidences of a strong, but +well-balanced character. As he came in, I noticed a look of +intelligence pass from one to another; and then the eyes of two or +three were fixed upon a young man who was seated not far from me, with +his back to the entrance, playing at dominoes. He had a glass of ale by +his side. The old man searched about the room for some moments, before +his glance rested upon the individual I have mentioned. My eyes were +full upon his face, as he advanced toward him, as yet unseen. Upon it +was not a sign of angry excitement, but a most touching sorrow. +</P> + +<P> +"Edward!" he said, as he laid his hand gently on the young man's +shoulder. The latter started at the voice, and crimsoned deeply. A few +moments he sat irresolute. +</P> + +<P> +"Edward, my son!" It would have been a cold, hard heart indeed that +softened not under the melting tenderness of these tones. The call was +irresistible, and obedience a necessity. The powers of evil had, yet, +too feeble a grasp on the young man's heart to hold him in thrall. +Rising with a half-reluctant manner, and with a shamefacedness that it +was impossible to conceal, he retired as quietly as possible. The +notice of only a few in the bar-room was attracted by the incident. +</P> + +<P> +"I can tell you what," I heard the individual, with whom the young man +had been playing at dominoes, remark—himself not twenty years of +age—"if my old man were to make a fool of himself in this +way—sneaking around after me in bar-rooms-he'd get only his trouble +for his pains. I'd like to see him try it, though! There'd be a nice +time of it, I guess. Wouldn't I creep off with him, as meek as a lamb! +Ho! ho!" +</P> + +<P> +"Who is that old gentleman who came in just now?" I inquired of the +person who thus commented on the incident which had just occurred. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Hargrove is his name." +</P> + +<P> +"And that was his son?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; and I'm only sorry he doesn't possess a little more spirit." +</P> + +<P> +"How old is he?" +</P> + +<P> +"About twenty." +</P> + +<P> +"Not of legal age, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"He's old enough to be his own master." +</P> + +<P> +"The law says differently," I suggested. +</P> + +<P> +In answer, the young man cursed the law, snapping his fingers in its +imaginary face as he did so. +</P> + +<P> +"At least you will admit," said I, "that Edward Hargrove, in the use of +a liberty to go where he pleases, and do what he pleases, exhibits but +small discretion." +</P> + +<P> +"I will admit no such thing. What harm is there, I would like to know, +in a social little game such as we were playing? There were no +stakes—we were not gambling." +</P> + +<P> +I pointed to the half-emptied glass of ale left by young Hargrove. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! oh!" half sneered, half laughed a man, twice the age of the one I +had addressed, who sat near by, listening to our conversation. I looked +at him for a moment, and then said: +</P> + +<P> +"The great danger lies there, without doubt. If it were only a glass of +ale and a game of dominoes—but it doesn't stop there, and well the +young man's father knows it." +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps he does," was answered. "I remember him in his younger days; +and a pretty high boy he was. He didn't stop at a glass of ale and a +game of dominoes; not he! I've seen him as drunk as a lord many a time; +and many a time at a horse-race, or cock-fight, betting with the +bravest. I was only a boy, though a pretty old boy; but I can tell you, +Hargrove was no saint." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder not, then, that he is so anxious for his son," was my remark. +"He knows well the lurking dangers in the path he seems inclined to +enter." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see that they have done him much harm. He sowed his wild +oats—then got married, and settled down into a good, substantial +citizen. A little too religious and pharisaical, I always thought; but +upright in his dealings. He had his pleasures in early life, as was +befitting the season of youth—why not let his son taste of the same +agreeable fruit? He's wrong, sir—wrong! And I've said as much to Ned. +I only wish the boy had shown the right spunk this evening, and told +the old man to go home about his business." +</P> + +<P> +"So do I," chimed in the young disciple in this bad school. "It's what +I'd say to my old man, in double quick time, if he was to come hunting +after me." +</P> + +<P> +"He knows better than to do that," said the other, in a way that let me +deeper into the young man's character. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed he does. He's tried his hand on me once or twice during the +last year, but found it wouldn't do, no how; Tom Peters is out of his +leading-strings." +</P> + +<P> +"And can drink his glass with any one, and not be a grain the worse for +it." +</P> + +<P> +"Exactly, old boy!" said Peters, slapping his preceptor on the knee. +"Exactly! I'm not one of your weak-headed ones. Oh no!" +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, Joe Morgan!"—the half-angry voice of Simon Slade now rung +through the bar-room,—"just take yourself off home!" +</P> + +<P> +I had not observed the entrance of this person. He was standing at the +bar, with an emptied glass in his hand. A year had made no improvement +in his appearance. On the contrary, his clothes were more worn and +tattered; his countenance more sadly marred. What he had said to +irritate the landlord, I know not; but Slade's face was fiery with +passion, and his eyes glared threateningly at the poor besotted one, +who showed not the least inclination to obey. +</P> + +<P> +"Off with you, I say! And never show your face here again. I won't have +such low vagabonds as you are about my house. If you can't keep decent +and stay decent, don't intrude yourself here." +</P> + +<P> +"A rum-seller talk of decency!" retorted Morgan. "Pah! You were a +decent man once, and a good miller into the bargain. But that time's +past and gone. Decency died out when you exchanged the pick and +facing-hammer for the glass and muddler. Decency! Pah! How you talk! As +if it were any more decent to sell rum than to drink it." +</P> + +<P> +There was so much of biting contempt in the tones, as well as the words +of the half-intoxicated man, that Slade, who had himself been drinking +rather more freely than usual, was angered beyond self-control. +Catching up an empty glass from the counter, he hurled it with all his +strength at the head of Joe Morgan. The missive just grazed one of his +temples, and flew by on its dangerous course. The quick sharp cry of a +child startled the air, followed by exclamations of alarm and horror +from many voices. +</P> + +<P> +"It's Joe Morgan's child!" "He's killed her!" "Good heavens!" Such were +the exclamations that rang through the room. I was among the first to +reach the spot where a little girl, just gliding in through the door, +had been struck on the forehead by the glass, which had cut a deep +gash, and stunned her into insensibility. The blood flowed instantly +from the wound, and covered her face, which presented a shocking +appearance. As I lifted her from the floor, upon which she had fallen, +Morgan, into whose very soul the piercing cry of his child had +penetrated, stood by my side, and grappled his arms around her +insensible form, uttering as he did so heart-touching moans and +lamentations. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter? Oh, what's the matter?" It was a woman's voice, +speaking in frightened tones. +</P> + +<P> +"It's nothing! Just go out, will you, Ann?" I heard the landlord say. +</P> + +<P> +But his wife—it was Mrs. Slade—having heard the shrieks of pain and +terror uttered by Morgan's child, had come running into the +bar-room—heeded not his words, but pressed forward into the little +group that stood around the bleeding girl. +</P> + +<P> +"Run for Doctor Green, Frank," she cried in an imperative voice, the +moment her eyes rested on the little one's bloody face. +</P> + +<P> +Frank came around from behind the bar, in obedience to the word; but +his father gave a partial countermand, and he stood still. Upon +observing which, his mother repeated the order, even more emphatically. +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you jump, you young rascal!" exclaimed Harvey Green. "The +child may be dead before the doctor can get here." +</P> + +<P> +Frank hesitated no longer, but disappeared instantly through the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor, poor child!" almost sobbed Mrs. Slade, as she lifted the +insensible form from my arms. "How did it happen? Who struck her?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who? Curse him! Who but Simon Slade?" answered Joe Morgan, through his +clenched teeth. +</P> + +<P> +The look of anguish, mingled with bitter reproach, instantly thrown +upon the landlord by his wife, can hardly be forgotten by any who saw +it that night. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Simon! Simon! And has it come to this already?" What a world of +bitter memories, and sad forebodings of evil, did that little sentence +express. "To this already"—Ah! In the downward way, how rapidly the +steps do tread—how fast the progress! +</P> + +<P> +"Bring me a basin of water, and a towel, quickly!" she now exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +The water was brought, and in a little while the face of the child lay +pure and as white as snow against her bosom. The wound from which the +blood had flowed so freely was found on the upper part of the forehead, +a little to the side, and extending several inches back, along the top +of the head. As soon as the blood stains were wiped away, and the +effusion partially stopped, Mrs. Slade carried the still insensible +body into the next room, whither the distressed, and now completely +sobered father, accompanied her. I went with them, but Slade remained +behind. +</P> + +<P> +The arrival of the doctor was soon followed by the restoration of life +to the inanimate body. He happened to be at home, and came instantly. +He had just taken the last stitch in the wound, which required to be +drawn together, and was applying strips of adhesive plaster, when the +hurried entrance of some one caused me to look up. What an apparition +met my eyes! A woman stood in the door, with a face in which maternal +anxiety and terror blended fearfully. Her countenance was like +ashes—her eyes straining wildly—her lips apart, while the panting +breath almost hissed through them. +</P> + +<P> +"Joe! Joe! What is it? Where is Mary? Is she dead?" were her eager +inquiries. +</P> + +<P> +"No, Fanny," answered Joe Morgan, starting up from where he was +actually kneeling by the side of the reviving little one, and going +quickly to his wife. "She's better now. It's a bad hurt, but the doctor +says it's nothing dangerous. Poor, dear child!" +</P> + +<P> +The pale face of the mother grew paler—she gasped—caught for breath +two or three times—a low shudder ran through her frame—and then she +lay white and pulseless in the arms of her husband. As the doctor +applied restoratives, I had opportunity to note more particularly the +appearance of Mrs. Morgan. Her person was very slender, and her face so +attenuated that it might almost be called shadowy. Her hair, which was +a rich chestnut brown, with a slight golden lustre, had fallen from her +comb, and now lay all over her neck and bosom in beautiful luxuriance. +Back from her full temples it had been smoothed away by the hand of +Morgan, that all the while moved over her brow and temples with a +caressing motion that I saw was unconscious, and which revealed the +tenderness of feeling with which, debased as he was, he regarded the +wife of his youth, and the long suffering companion of his later and +evil days. Her dress was plain and coarse, but clean and well fitting; +and about her whole person was an air of neatness and taste. She could +not now be called beautiful; yet in her marred features—marred by +suffering and grief—were many lineaments of beauty; and much that told +of a true, pure woman's heart beating in her bosom. Life came slowly +back to the stilled heart, and it was nearly half an hour before the +circle of motion was fully restored. +</P> + +<P> +Then, the twain, with their child, tenderly borne in the arms of her +father, went sadly homeward, leaving more than one heart heavier for +their visit. +</P> + +<P> +I saw more of the landlord's wife on this occasion than before. She had +acted with a promptness and humanity that impressed me very favorably. +It was plain, from her exclamations on learning that her husband's hand +inflicted the blow that came so near destroying the child's life, that +her faith for good in the tavern-keeping experiment had never been +strong. I had already inferred as much. Her face, the few times I had +seen her, wore a troubled look; and I could never forget its +expression, nor her anxious, warning voice, when she discovered Frank +sipping the dregs from a glass in the bar-room. +</P> + +<P> +It is rarely, I believe, that wives consent freely to the opening of +taverns by their husbands; and the determination on the part of the +latter to do so, is not unfrequently attended with a breach of +confidence and good feeling never afterward fully healed. Men look +close to the money result; women to the moral consequences. I doubt if +there be one dram-seller in ten, between whom and his wife there exists +a good understanding—to say nothing of genuine affection. And, in the +exceptional cases, it will generally be found that the wife is as +mercenary, or careless of the public good, as her husband. I have known +some women to set up grog-shops; but they were women of bad principles +and worse hearts. I remember one case, where a woman, with a sober, +church-going husband, opened a dram-shop. The husband opposed, +remonstrated, begged, threatened—but all to no purpose. The wife, by +working for the clothing stores, had earned and saved about three +hundred dollars. The love of money, in the slow process of +accumulation, had been awakened; and, in ministering to the depraved +appetites of men who loved drink and neglected their families, she saw +a quicker mode of acquiring the gold she coveted. And so the dram-shop +was opened. And what was the result? The husband quit going to church. +He had no heart for that; for, even on the Sabbath day, the fiery +stream was stayed not in his house. Next he began to tipple. Soon, +alas! the subtle poison so pervaded his system that morbid desire came; +and then he moved along quick-footed in the way of ruin. In less than +three years, I think, from the time the grog-shop was opened by his +wife, he was in a drunkard's grave. A year or two more, and the pit +that was digged for others by the hands of the wife, she fell into +herself. After breathing an atmosphere poisoned by the fumes of liquor, +the love of tasting it was gradually formed, and she, too, in the end, +became a slave to the Demon Drink. She died at last, poor as a beggar +in the street. Ah! this liquor-selling is the way to ruin; and they who +open the gates, as well as those who enter the downward path, alike go +to destruction. But this is digressing. +</P> + +<P> +After Joe Morgan and his wife left the "Sickle and Sheaf," with that +gentle child, who, as I afterward learned, had not, for a year or more, +laid her little head to sleep until her father returned home and who, +if he stayed out beyond a certain hour, would go for him, and lead him +back, a very angel of love and patience—I re-entered the bar-room, to +see how life was passing there. Not one of all I had left in the room +remained. The incident which had occurred was of so painful a nature, +that no further unalloyed pleasure was to be had there during the +evening, and so each had retired. In his little kingdom the landlord +sat alone, his head resting on his hand, and his face shaded from the +light. The whole aspect of the man was that of one in self-humiliation. +As I entered he raised his head, and turned his face toward me. Its +expression was painful. +</P> + +<P> +"Rather an unfortunate affair," said he. "I'm angry with myself, and +sorry for the poor child. But she'd no business here. As for Joe +Morgan, it would take a saint to bear his tongue when once set a-going +by liquor. I wish he'd stay away from the house. Nobody wants his +company. Oh, dear!" +</P> + +<P> +The ejaculation, or rather groan, that closed the sentence showed how +little Slade was satisfied with himself, notwithstanding this feeble +attempt at self-justification. +</P> + +<P> +"His thirst for liquor draws him hither," I remarked. "The attraction +of your bar to his appetite is like that of the magnet to the needle. +He cannot stay away." +</P> + +<P> +"He MUST stay away!" exclaimed the landlord, with some vehemence of +tone, striking his fist upon the table by which he sat. "He MUST stay +away! There is scarcely an evening that he does not ruffle my temper, +and mar good feelings in all the company. Just see what he provoked me +to do this evening. I might have killed the child. It makes my blood +run cold to think of it! Yes, sir—he must stay away. If no better can +be done, I'll hire a man to stand at the door and keep him out." +</P> + +<P> +"He never troubled you at the mill," said I. "No man was required at +the mill door?" +</P> + +<P> +"No!" And the landlord gave emphasis to the word by an oath, ejaculated +with a heartiness that almost startled me. I had not heard him swear +before. "No; the great trouble was to get him and keep him there, the +good-for-nothing, idle fellow!" +</P> + +<P> +"I am afraid," I ventured to suggest, "that things don't go on quite so +smoothly here as they did at the mill. Your customers are of a +different class." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know about that; why not?" He did not just relish my remark. +</P> + +<P> +"Between quiet, thrifty, substantial farmers, and drinking bar-room +loungers, are many degrees of comparison." +</P> + +<P> +"Excuse me, sir!" Simon Slade elevated his person. "The men who visit +my bar-room, as a general thing, are quite as respectable, moral, and +substantial as any who came to the mill—and I believe more so. The +first people in the place, sir, are to be found here. Judge Lyman and +Judge Hammond; Lawyer Wilks and Doctor Maynard; Mr. Grand and Mr. Lee; +and dozens of others—all our first people. No, sir; you mustn't judge +all by vagabonds like Joe Morgan." +</P> + +<P> +There was a testy spirit manifested that I did not care to provoke. I +could have met his assertion with facts and inferences of a character +to startle any one occupying his position, who was in a calm, +reflective state; but to argue with him then would have been worse than +idle; and so I let him talk on until the excitement occasioned by my +words died out for want of new fuel. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE THIRD. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +JOE MORGAN'S CHILD. +</H3> + +<P> +"I don't see anything of your very particular friend, Joe Morgan, this +evening," said Harvey Green, leaning on the bar and speaking to Slade. +It was the night succeeding that on which the painful and exciting +scene with the child had occurred. +</P> + +<P> +"No," was answered—and to the word was added a profane imprecation. +"No; and if he'll just keep away from here, he may go to—on a +hard-trotting horse and a porcupine saddle as fast as he pleases. He's +tried my patience beyond endurance, and my mind is made up that he gets +no more drams at this bar. I've borne his vile tongue and seen my +company annoyed by him just as long as I mean to stand it. Last night +decided me. Suppose I'd killed that child?" +</P> + +<P> +"You'd have had trouble then, and no mistake." +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't I? Blast her little picture! What business has she creeping +in here every night?" +</P> + +<P> +"She must have a nice kind of a mother," remarked Green, with a cold +sneer. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know what she is now," said Slade, a slight touch of feeling +in his voice—"heart-broken, I suppose. I couldn't look at her last +night; it made me sick. But there was a time when Fanny Morgan was the +loveliest and best woman in Cedarville. I'll say that for her. Oh, +dear! What a life her miserable husband has caused her to lead." +</P> + +<P> +"Better that he were dead and out of the way." +</P> + +<P> +"Better a thousand times," answered Slade. "If he'd only fall down some +night and break his neck, it would be a blessing to his family." +</P> + +<P> +"And to you in particular," laughed Green. +</P> + +<P> +"You may be sure it wouldn't cost me a large sum for mourning," was the +unfeeling response. +</P> + +<P> +Let us leave the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf," and its +cold-hearted inmates, and look in upon the family of Joe Morgan, and +see how it is in the home of the poor inebriate. We will pass by a +quick transition. +</P> + +<P> +"Joe!" The thin white hand of Mrs. Morgan clasps the arm of her +husband, who has arisen up suddenly, and now stands by the partly +opened door. "Don't go out to-night, Joe. Please, don't go out." +</P> + +<P> +"Father!" A feeble voice calls from the corner of an old settee, where +little Mary lies with her head bandaged. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I won't then!" is replied—not angrily, nor even fretfully—but +in a kind voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Come and sit by me, father." How tenderly, yet how full of concern is +that low, sweet voice. "Come, won't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Now hold my hand, father." +</P> + +<P> +Joe takes the hand of little Mary, that instantly tightens upon his. +</P> + +<P> +"You won't go away and leave me to-night, will you, father? Say you +won't." +</P> + +<P> +"How very hot your hand is, dear. Does your head ache?" +</P> + +<P> +"A little; but it will soon feel better." +</P> + +<P> +Up into the swollen and disfigured face of the fallen father, the +large, earnest blue eyes of the child are raised. She does not see the +marred lineaments; but only the beloved countenance of her parent. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear father!" +</P> + +<P> +"What, love?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you'd promise me something." +</P> + +<P> +"What, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Will you promise?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can't say until I hear your request. If I can promise, I will." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, you can promise—you can, father!" +</P> + +<P> +How the large blue eyes dance and sparkle! +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, love?" +</P> + +<P> +"That you will never go into Simon Slade's bar any more." +</P> + +<P> +The child raises herself, evidently with a painful effort; and leans +nearer to her father. +</P> + +<P> +Joe shakes his head, and poor Mary drops back upon her pillow with a +sigh. Her lids fall, and the long lashes lie strongly relieved on her +colorless cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"I won't go there to-night, dear. So let your heart be at rest." +</P> + +<P> +Mary's lids unclose, and two round drops, released from their clasp, +glide slowly over her face. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, father—thank you. Mother will be so glad." +</P> + +<P> +The eyes closed again; and the father moved uneasily. His heart is +touched. There is a struggle within him. It is on his lips to say that +he will never drink at the "Sickle and Sheaf" again; but resolution +just lacks the force of utterance. +</P> + +<P> +"Father!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't, think I'll be well enough to go out in two or three days. You +know the doctor said that I would have to keep very still, for I had a +great deal of fever." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, poor child." +</P> + +<P> +"Now, won't you promise me one thing?" +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not to go out in the evening until I get well." +</P> + +<P> +Joe Morgan hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"Just promise me that, father. It won't be long; I shall be up again in +a little while." +</P> + +<P> +How well the father knows what is in the heart of his child. Her fears +are all for him. Who is to go up after her poor father, and lead him +home when the darkness of inebriety is on his spirit, and external +perception so dulled that not skill enough remains to shun the harm +that lies in his path? +</P> + +<P> +"Do promise just that, father, dear." +</P> + +<P> +He cannot resist the pleading voice and look. "I promise it, Mary; so +shut your eyes now and go to sleep. I'm afraid this fever will +increase." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I'm so glad—so glad!" +</P> + +<P> +Mary does not clasp her hands, nor show strong external signs of +pleasure; but how full of a pure, unselfish joy is that low-murmured +ejaculation, spoken in the depths of her spirit, as well as syllabled +by her tongue! +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Morgan has been no unconcerned witness of all this; but knowing +the child's influence over her father, she has not ventured a word. +More was to be gained, she was sure, by silence on her part; and so she +kept silent. Now she comes nearer to them, and says, as she lets a hand +rest on the shoulder of her husband: +</P> + +<P> +"You feel better for that promise already; I know you do." +</P> + +<P> +He looks up to her, and smiles faintly. He does feel better, but is +hardly willing to acknowledge it. +</P> + +<P> +Soon after Mary is sleeping. It does not escape the observation of Mrs. +Morgan that her husband grows restless; for he gets up suddenly, every +now and then, and walks quickly across the room, as if in search of +something. Then sits down, listlessly—sighs—stretches himself, and +says, "Oh dear!" What shall she do for him? How is the want of his +accustomed evening stimulus to be met? She thinks, and questions, and +grieves inwardly. Poor Joe Morgan! His wife understands his case, and +pities him from her heart. But what can she do? Go out and get him +something to drink? "Oh, no! no! no! never!" She answered the thought +audibly almost, in the excitement of her feelings. An hour has +passed—Joe's restlessness has increased instead of diminishing. What +is to be done? Now Mrs. Morgan has left the room. She has resolved upon +something, for the case must be met. Ah! here she comes, after an +absence of five minutes, bearing in her hand a cup of strong coffee. +</P> + +<P> +"It was kind and thoughtful in you, Fanny," says Morgan, as with a +gratified look he takes the cup. But his hand trembles, and he spills a +portion of the contents as ho tries to raise it to his lips. How +dreadfully his nerves are shattered! Unnatural stimulants have been +applied so long, that all true vitality seems lost. And now the hand of +his wife is holding the cup to his lips, and he drinks eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"This is dreadful—dreadful! Where will it end? What is to be done?" +</P> + +<P> +Fanny suppresses a sob, as she thus gives vent to her troubled +feelings. Twice, already, has her husband been seized with the +drunkard's madness; and, in the nervous prostration consequent upon +even a brief withdrawal of his usual strong stimulants, she sees the +fearful precursor of another attack of this dreadful and dangerous +malady. In the hope of supplying the needed tone she has given him +strong coffee; and this for the time, produces the effect desired. The +restlessness is allayed, and a quiet state of body and mind succeeds. +It needs but a suggestion to induce him to retire for the night. After +being a few minutes in bed, sleep steals over him, and his heavy +breathing tells that he is in the world of dreams. +</P> + +<P> +And now there comes a tap at the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Come in," is answered. +</P> + +<P> +The latch is lifted, the door swings open, and a woman enters. +</P> + +<P> +"Mrs. Slade!" The name is uttered in a tone of surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"Fanny, how are you this evening?" Kindly, yet half sadly, the words +are said. +</P> + +<P> +"Tolerable, I thank you." +</P> + +<P> +The hands of the two women are clasped, and for a few moments they gaze +into each other's face. What a world of tender commiseration is in that +of Mrs. Slade! +</P> + +<P> +"How is little Mary to-night?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not so well, I'm afraid. She has a good deal of fever." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed! Oh, I'm sorry! Poor child! what a dreadful thing it was! Oh! +Fanny! you don't know how it has troubled me. I've been intending to +come around all day to see how she was, but couldn't get off until now." +</P> + +<P> +"It came near killing her," said Mrs. Morgan. +</P> + +<P> +"It's in God's mercy she escaped. The thought of it curdles the very +blood in my veins. Poor child! is this her on the settee?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Slade takes a chair, and sitting by the sleeping child, gazes long +upon her pale sweet face. Now the lips of Mary part—words are +murmured—what is she saying? +</P> + +<P> +"No, no, mother; I can't go to bed yet. Father isn't home. And it's so +dark. There's no one to lead him over the bridge. I'm not afraid. +Don't—don't cry so, mother—I'm not afraid! Nothing will hurt me." +</P> + +<P> +The child's face flushes. She moans, and throws her arms about +uneasily. Hark again. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish Mr. Slade wouldn't look so cross at me. He never did when I +went to the mill. He doesn't take me on his knee now, and stroke my +hair. Oh, dear! I wish father wouldn't go there any more. Don't, don't, +Mr. Slade. Oh! oh!"—the ejaculation prolonged into a frightened cry, +"My head! my head!" +</P> + +<P> +A few choking sobs are followed by low moans; and then the child +breathes easily again. But the flush does not leave her cheek; and when +Mrs. Slade, from whose eyes the tears come forth drop by drop, and roll +down her face, touches it lightly, she finds it hot with fever. +</P> + +<P> +"Has the doctor seen her to-day, Fanny?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am." +</P> + +<P> +"He should see her at once. I will go for him"; and Mrs. Slade starts +up and goes quickly from the room. In a little while she returns with +Doctor Green, who sits down and looks at the child for some moments +with a sober, thoughtful face. Then he lays his fingers on her pulse +and times its beat by his watch—shakes his head, and looks graver +still. +</P> + +<P> +"How long has she had fever?" he asks. +</P> + +<P> +"All day." +</P> + +<P> +"You should have sent for me earlier." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, doctor! She is not dangerous, I hope?" Mrs. Morgan looks +frightened. +</P> + +<P> +"She's a sick child, madam." +</P> + +<P> +"You've promised, father."—The dreamer is speaking again.—"I'm not +well enough yet. Oh, don't go, father; don't! There! He's gone! Well, +well! I'll try and walk there—I can sit down and rest by the way. Oh, +dear! How tired I am! Father! Father!" +</P> + +<P> +The child starts up and looks about her wildly. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, mother, is it you?" And she sinks back upon her pillow, looking +now inquiringly from face to face. +</P> + +<P> +"Father—where is father?" she asks. +</P> + +<P> +"Asleep, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Is he? I'm glad." +</P> + +<P> +Her eyes close wearily. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you feel any pain, Mary?" inquired the doctor. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir—in my head. It aches and beats so." +</P> + +<P> +The cry of "Father" had reached the ears of Morgan, who is sleeping in +the next room, and roused him into consciousness. He knows the doctor's +voice. Why is he here at this late hour? "Do you feel any pain, Mary?" +The question he hears distinctly, and the faintly uttered reply also. +He is sober enough to have all his fears instantly excited. There is +nothing in the world that he loves as he loves that child. And so he +gets up and dresses himself as quickly as possible; the stimulus of +anxiety giving tension to his relaxed nerves. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, father!" The quick ears of Mary detect his entrance first, and a +pleasant smile welcomes him. +</P> + +<P> +"Is she very sick, doctor?" he asks, in a voice full of anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +"She's a sick child, sir; you should have sent for me earlier." The +doctor speaks rather sternly, and with a purpose to rebuke. +</P> + +<P> +The reply stirs Morgan, and he seems to cower half timidly under the +words, as if they were blows. Mary has already grasped her father's +hand, and holds on to it tightly. +</P> + +<P> +After examining the case a little more closely, the doctor prepares +some medicine, and, promising to call early in the morning, goes away. +Mrs. Slade follows soon after; but, in parting with Mrs. Morgan, leaves +something in her hand, which, to the surprise of the latter, proves to +be a ten-dollar bill. The tears start to her eyes; and she conceals the +money in her bosom—murmuring a fervent "God bless her!" +</P> + +<P> +A simple act of restitution is this on the part of Mrs. Slade, prompted +as well by humanity as a sense of justice. With one hand her husband +has taken the bread from the family of his old friend, and thus with +the other she restores it. +</P> + +<P> +And now Morgan and his wife are alone with their sick child. Higher the +fever rises, and partial delirium seizes upon her over-excited brain. +She talks for a time almost incessantly. All her trouble is about her +father; and she is constantly referring to his promise not to go out in +the evening until she gets well. How tenderly and touchingly she +appeals to him; now looking up into his face in partial recognition; +and now calling anxiously after him, as if he had left her and was +going away. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll not forget your promise, will you, father?" she says, speaking +so calmly, that he thinks her mind has ceased to wander. +</P> + +<P> +"No, dear; I will not forget it," he answers, smoothing her hair gently +with his hand. +</P> + +<P> +"You'll not go out in the evening again, until I get well?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Father!" +</P> + +<P> +"What, love?" +</P> + +<P> +"Stoop down closer; I don't want mother to hear; it will make her feel +so bad." +</P> + +<P> +The father bends his ear close to the lips of Mary. How he starts and +shudders! What has she said?—only these brief words: +</P> + +<P> +"I shall not get well, father; I'm going to die." +</P> + +<P> +The groans, impossible to repress, that issued through the lips of Joe +Morgan, startled the ears of his wife, and she came quickly to the +bedside. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it? What is the matter, Joe?" she inquired, with a look of +anxiety. +</P> + +<P> +"Hush, father. Don't tell her. I only said it to you." And Mary put a +finger on her lips, and looked mysterious. "There, mother—you go away; +you've got trouble enough, any how. Don't tell her, father." +</P> + +<P> +But the words, which came to him like a prophecy, awoke such pangs of +fear and remorse in the heart of Joe Morgan, that it was impossible for +him to repress the signs of pain. For some moments he gazed at his +wife—then stooping forward, suddenly, he buried his face in the +bed-clothes, and sobbed bitterly. +</P> + +<P> +A suggestion of the truth now flashed through the mind of Mrs. Morgan, +sending a thrill of pain along every nerve. Ere she had time to recover +herself, the low, sweet voice of Mary broke upon the hushed air of the +room, and she sung: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "Jesus can make a dying bed<BR> + Feel soft as downy pillows are,<BR> + While on His breast I lean my head,<BR> + And breathe my life out, sweetly, there."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +It was impossible for Mrs. Morgan longer to repress her feelings. As +the softly breathed strain died away, her sobs broke forth, and for a +time she wept violently. +</P> + +<P> +"There," said the child,—"I didn't mean to tell you. I only told +father, because—because he promised not to go to the tavern any more +until I got well; and I'm not going to get well. So, you see, mother, +he'll never go again—never—never—never. Oh, dear! how my head pains. +Mr. Slade threw it so hard. But it didn't strike father; and I'm so +glad. How it would have hurt him—poor father! But he'll never go there +any more; and that will be so good, won't it, mother?" +</P> + +<P> +A light broke over her face; but seeing that her mother still wept, she +said: +</P> + +<P> +"Don't cry. Maybe I'll be better." +</P> + +<P> +And then her eyes closed heavily, and she slept again. +</P> + +<P> +"Joe," said Mrs. Morgan, after she had in a measure recovered +herself—she spoke firmly—"Joe, did you hear what she said?" +</P> + +<P> +Morgan only answered with a groan. +</P> + +<P> +"Her mind wanders; and yet she may have spoken only the truth." +</P> + +<P> +He groaned again. +</P> + +<P> +"If she should die, Joe—" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't; oh, don't talk so, Fanny. She's not going to die. It's only +because she's a little light-headed." +</P> + +<P> +"Why is she light-headed, Joe?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's the fever—only the fever, Fanny." +</P> + +<P> +"It was the blow, and the wound on her head, that caused the fever. How +do we know the extent of injury on the brain? Doctor Green looked very +serious. I'm afraid, husband, that the worst is before us. I've borne +and suffered a great deal—only God knows how much—I pray that I may +have strength to bear this trial also. Dear child! She is better fitted +for heaven than for earth, and it may be that God is about to take her +to Himself. She's been a great comfort to me—and to you, Joe, more +like a guardian angel than a child." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Morgan had tried to speak very firmly; but as sentence followed +sentence, her voice lost more and more of its even tone. With the +closing words all self-control vanished; and she wept bitterly. What +could her feeble, erring husband do, but weep with her? +</P> + +<P> +"Joe,"—Mrs. Morgan aroused herself as quickly as possible, for she had +that to say which she feared she might not have the heart to +utter—"Joe, if Mary dies, you cannot forget the cause of her death." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Fanny! Fanny!" +</P> + +<P> +"Nor the hand that struck the cruel blow." +</P> + +<P> +"Forget it? Never! And if I forgive Simon Slade—" +</P> + +<P> +"Nor the place where the blow was dealt," said Mrs. Morgan, +interrupting him. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor—poor child!" moaned the conscience-stricken man. +</P> + +<P> +"Nor your promise, Joe—nor your promise given to our dying child." +</P> + +<P> +"Father! Father! Dear father!" Mary's eyes suddenly unclosed, as she +called her father eagerly. +</P> + +<P> +"Here I am, love. What is it?" And Joe Morgan pressed up to the bedside. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! it's you, father! I dreamed that you had gone out, and—and—but +you won't will you, dear father?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, love—no." +</P> + +<P> +"Never any more until I get well?" +</P> + +<P> +"I must go out to work, you know, Mary." +</P> + +<P> +"At night, father. That's what I mean. You won't, will you?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, dear, no." +</P> + +<P> +A soft smile trembled over the child's face; her eyelids drooped +wearily, and she fell off into slumber again. She seemed not so +restless as before—did not moan, nor throw herself about in her sleep. +</P> + +<P> +"She's better, I think," said Morgan, as he bent over her, and listened +to her softer breathing. +</P> + +<P> +"It seems so," replied his wife. "And now, Joe, you must go to bed +again. I will lie down here with Mary, and be ready to do any thing for +her that she may want." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't feel sleepy. I'm sure I couldn't close my eyes. So let me sit +up with Mary. You are tired and worn out." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Morgan looked earnestly into her husband's face. His eyes were +unusually bright, and she noticed a slight nervous restlessness about +his lips. She laid one of her hands on his, and perceived a slight +tremor. +</P> + +<P> +"You must go to bed," she spoke firmly. "I shall not let you sit up +with Mary. So go at once." And she drew him almost by force into the +next room. +</P> + +<P> +"It's no use, Fanny. There's not a wink of sleep in my eyes. I shall +lie awake anyhow. So do you get a little rest." Even as he spoke there +were nervous twitchings of his arms and shoulders; and as he entered +the chamber, impelled by his wife, he stopped suddenly and said: +</P> + +<P> +"What is that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Where?" asked Mrs. Morgan. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, it's nothing—I see. Only one of my old boots. I thought it a +great black cat." +</P> + +<P> +Oh! what a shudder of despair seized upon the heart of the wretched +wife. Too well she knew the fearful signs of that terrible madness from +which, twice before, he had suffered. She could have looked on calmly +and seen him die—but, "Not this—not this! Oh, Father in heaven!" she +murmured, with such a heart-sinking that it seemed as if life itself +would go out. +</P> + +<P> +"Get into bed, Joe; get into bed as quickly as possible." +</P> + +<P> +Morgan was now passive in the hands of his wife, and obeyed her almost +like a child. He had turned down the bed-clothes, and was about getting +in, when he started back, with a look of disgust and alarm. +</P> + +<P> +"There's nothing there, Joe. What's the matter with you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure I don't know, Fanny," and his teeth rattled together, as he +spoke. "I thought there was a great toad under the clothes." +</P> + +<P> +"How foolish you are!"—yet tears were blinding her eyes as she said +this. "It's only fancy. Get into bed and shut your eyes. I'll make you +another cup of strong coffee. Perhaps that will do you good. You're +only a little nervous. Mary's sickness has disturbed you." +</P> + +<P> +Joe looked cautiously under the bedclothes, as he lifted them up still +farther, and peered beneath. +</P> + +<P> +"You know there's nothing in your bed, see!" +</P> + +<P> +And Mrs. Morgan threw with a single jerk all the clothes upon the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"There now! look for yourself. Now shut your eyes," she continued as +she spread the sheet and quilt over him after his head was on the +pillow. "Shut them tight and keep them so until I boil the water and +make a cup of coffee You know as well as I do that it's nothing but +fancy." +</P> + +<P> +Morgan closed his eyes firmly, and drew the clothes over his head. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll be back in a few minutes" said his wife going hurriedly to the +door. Ere leaving, however she partly turned her head and glanced back. +There sat her husband upright and staring fearfully. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't Fanny! don't go away!" he cried in a frightened voice. +</P> + +<P> +Joe! Joe! why will you be so foolish? It's nothing but imagination. Now +do lie down and shut your eyes. Keep them shut. There now. +</P> + +<P> +And she laid a hand over his eyes and pressed it down tightly. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish Doctor Green was here," said the wretched man. "He could give +me something." +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I go for him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Go Fanny! Run over right quickly" +</P> + +<P> +"But you won't keep in bed" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes I will. There, now" And he drew the clothes over his face "There +I'll lie just so until you come back. Now run Fanny, and don't stay a +minute." +</P> + +<P> +Scarcely stopping to think Mrs. Morgan went hurriedly from the room and +drawing an old shawl over her head started with swift feet for the +residence of Doctor Green which was not very far away. The kind doctor +understood at a word the sad condition of her husband and promised to +attend him immediately. Back she flew at even a wilder speed her heart +throbbing with vague apprehension. Oh! what a fearful cry was that +which smote her ears as she came within a few paces of home. She knew +the voice, changed as it was by terror, and a shudder almost palsied +her heart. At a single bound she cleared the intervening space and in +the next moment was in the room where she had left her husband. But he +was not there! With suspended breath, and feet that scarcely obeyed her +will, she passed into the chamber where little Mary lay. Not here! +</P> + +<P> +"Joe! husband!" she called in a faint voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Here he is, mother." And now she saw that Joe had crept into the bed +behind the sick child and that her arm was drawn tightly around his +neck. +</P> + +<P> +"You won't let them hurt me, will you dear?" said the pool frightened +victim of a terrible mania. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing will hurt you father," answered Mary, in a voice that showed +her mind to be clear, and fully conscious of her parent's true +condition. +</P> + +<P> +She had seen him thus before. Ah! what an experience for a child! +</P> + +<P> +"You're an angel—my good angel, Mary," he murmured, in a voice yet +trembling with fear "Pray for me, my child. Oh ask your father in +heaven to save me from these dreadful creatures. There now!" he cried, +rising up suddenly and looking toward the door. "Keep out! Go away! You +can't come in here. This is Mary's room, and she's an angel. Ah, ha! I +knew you wouldn't dare come in here— +</P> + +<P> + "A single saint can put to flight<BR> + Ten thousand blustering sons of night"<BR> +</P> + +<P> +He added in a half wandering way yet with an assured voice, as he laid +himself back upon his pillow and drew the clothes over his head. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor father!" sighed the child as she gathered both arms about his +neck! "I will be your good angel. Nothing shall hurt you here." +</P> + +<P> +"I knew I would be safe where you were," he whispered—"I knew it, and +so I came. Kiss me, love." +</P> + +<P> +How pure and fervent was the kiss laid instantly upon his lips! There +was a power in it to remand the evil influences that were surrounding +and pressing in upon him like a flood. All was quiet now, and Mrs. +Morgan neither by word nor movement disturbed the solemn stillness that +reigned in the apartment. In a few minutes the deepened breathing of +her husband gave a blessed intimation that he was sinking into sleep. +Oh, sleep! sleep! How tearfully, in times past, had she prayed that he +might sleep; and yet no sleep came for hours and days—even though +powerful opiates were given—until exhausted nature yielded, and then +sleep had a long, long struggle with death. Now the sphere of his +loving, innocent child seemed to have overcome, at least for the time, +the evil influences that were getting possession even of his external +senses. Yes, yes, he was sleeping! Oh, what a fervent "Thank God!" went +up from the heart of his stricken wife. +</P> + +<P> +Soon the quick ears of Mrs. Morgan detected the doctor's approaching +footsteps, and she met him at the door with a finger on her lips. A +whispered word or two explained the better aspect of affairs, and the +doctor said, encouragingly: +</P> + +<P> +"That's good, if he will only sleep on." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you think he will, doctor?" was asked anxiously. +</P> + +<P> +"He may. But we cannot hope too strongly. It would be something very +unusual." +</P> + +<P> +Both passed noiselessly into the chamber. Morgan still slept, and by +his deep breathing it was plain that he slept soundly. And Mary, too, +was sleeping, her face now laid against her father's, and her arms +still about his neck. The sight touched even the doctor's heart and +moistened his eyes. For nearly half an hour he remained; and then, as +Morgan continued to sleep, he left medicine to be given immediately, +and went home, promising to call early in the morning. +</P> + +<P> +It is now past midnight, and we leave the lonely, sad-hearted watcher +with her sick ones. +</P> + +<P> +I was sitting, with a newspaper in my hand—not reading, but musing—at +the "Sickle and Sheaf," late in the evening marked by the incidents +just detailed. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's your mother?" I heard Simon Slade inquire. He had just entered +an adjoining room. +</P> + +<P> +"She's gone out somewhere," was answered by his daughter Flora. +</P> + +<P> +"Where?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know." +</P> + +<P> +"How long has she been away?" +</P> + +<P> +"More than an hour." +</P> + +<P> +"And you don't know where she went to?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir." +</P> + +<P> +Nothing more was said, but I heard the landlord's heavy feet moving +backward and forward across the room for some minutes. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Ann! where have you been?" The door of the next room had opened +and shut. +</P> + +<P> +"Where I wish you had been with me," was answered in a very firm voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Where?" +</P> + +<P> +"To Joe Morgan's." +</P> + +<P> +"Humph!" Only this ejaculation met my ears. But something was said in a +low voice, to which Mrs. Slade replied with some warmth: +</P> + +<P> +"If you don't have his child's blood clinging for life to your +garments, you may be thankful." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean?" he asked, quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"All that my words indicate. Little Mary is very ill!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what of it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Much. The doctor thinks her in great danger. The cut on her head has +thrown her into a violent fever, and she is delirious. Oh, Simon! if +you had heard what I heard to-night." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" was asked in a growling tone. +</P> + +<P> +"She is out of her mind, as I said, and talks a great deal. She talked +about you." +</P> + +<P> +"Of me! Well, what had she to say?" +</P> + +<P> +"She said—so pitifully—'I wish Mr. Slade wouldn't look so cross at +me. He never did when I went to the mill. He doesn't take me on his +knee now, and stroke my hair. Oh, dear!' Poor child! She was always so +good." +</P> + +<P> +"Did she say that?" Slade seemed touched. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and a great deal more. Once she screamed out, 'Oh, don't! don't, +Mr. Slade! don't! My head! my head!' It made my very heart ache. I can +never forget her pale, frightened face, nor her cry of fear. Simon—if +she should die!" +</P> + +<P> +There was a long silence. +</P> + +<P> +"If we were only back to the mill." It was Mrs. Slade's voice. +</P> + +<P> +"There, now! I don't want to hear that again," quickly spoke out the +landlord. "I made a slave of myself long enough." +</P> + +<P> +"You had at least a clear conscience," his wife answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Do hush, will you?" Slade was now angry. "One would think, by the way +you talk sometimes, that I had broken every command of the Decalogue." +</P> + +<P> +"You will break hearts as well as commandments, if you keep on for a +few years as you have begun—and ruin souls as well as fortunes." +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Slade spoke calmly, but with marked severity of tone. Her husband +answered with an oath, and then left the room, banging the door after +him. In the hush that followed I retired to my chamber, and lay for an +hour awake, pondering on all I had just heard. What a revelation was in +that brief passage of words between the landlord and his excited +companion! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE FOURTH. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +DEATH OF LITTLE MARY MORGAN. +</H3> + +<P> +"Where are you going, Ann?" It was the landlord's voice. Time—a little +after dark. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going over to see Mrs. Morgan," answered his wife. +</P> + +<P> +"What for?" +</P> + +<P> +"I wish to go," was replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I don't wish you to go," said Slade, in a very decided way. +</P> + +<P> +"I can't help that, Simon. Mary, I'm told, is dying, and Joe is in a +dreadful way. I'm needed there—and so are you, as to that matter. +There was a time when, if word came to you that Morgan or his family +were in trouble—" +</P> + +<P> +"Do hush, will you!" exclaimed the landlord, angrily. "I won't be +preached to in this way any longer." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, well; then don't interfere with my movements, Simon; that's all I +have to say. I'm needed over there, as I just said, and I'm going." +</P> + +<P> +There were considerable odds against him, and Slade, perceiving this, +turned off, muttering something that his wife did not hear, and she +went on her way. A hurried walk brought her to the wretched home of the +poor drunkard, whose wife met her at the door. +</P> + +<P> +"How is Mary?" was the visitor's earnest inquiry. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Morgan tried to answer the question; but, though her lips moved, +no sounds issued therefrom. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Slade pressed her hands tightly in both of hers; and then passed +in with her to the room where the child lay. A stance sufficed to tell +Mrs. Slade that death had already laid his icy fingers upon her brow. +</P> + +<P> +"How are you, dear?" she asked, as she bent over and kissed her. +</P> + +<P> +"Better, I thank you!" replied Mary, in a low whisper. +</P> + +<P> +Then she fixed her eyes upon her mother's face with a look of inquiry. +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, love?" +</P> + +<P> +"Hasn't father waked up yet?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"Won't he wake up soon?" +</P> + +<P> +"He's sleeping very soundly. I wouldn't like to disturb him." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no; don't disturb him. I thought, maybe, he was awake." +</P> + +<P> +And the child's lids drooped languidly, until the long lashes lay close +against her cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +There was silence for a little while, and then Mrs. Morgan said in a +half-whisper to Mrs. Slade: +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, we've had such a dreadful time with poor Joe. He got in that +terrible way again last night. I had to go for Doctor Green and leave +him all alone. When I came back, he was in bed with Mary; and she, dear +child, had her arms around his neck, and was trying to comfort him; and +would you believe it, he went off to sleep, and slept in that way for a +long time. The doctor came, and when he saw how it was, left some +medicine for him, and went away. I was in such hopes that he would +sleep it all off. But about twelve o'clock he started up, and sprung +out of bed with an awful scream. Poor Mary! she too had fallen asleep. +The cry wakened her, and frightened her dreadfully. She's been getting +worse ever since, Mrs. Slade. +</P> + +<P> +"Just as he was rushing out of the room, I caught him by the arm, and +it took all my strength to hold him. +</P> + +<P> +"'Father! father!' Mary called after him as soon as she was awake +enough to understand what was the matter—'Don't go out, father; +there's nothing here.' +</P> + +<P> +"He looked back toward the bed, in a frightful way. +</P> + +<P> +"'See, father!' and the dear child turned down the quilt and sheet, in +order to convince him that nothing was in the bed. 'I'm here,' she +added. 'I'm not afraid. Come, father. If there's nothing here to hurt +me, there's nothing to hurt you.' +</P> + +<P> +"There was something so assuring in this, that Joe took a step or two +toward the bed, looking sharply into it as he did so. From the bed his +eyes wandered up to the ceiling, and the old look of terror came into +his face. +</P> + +<P> +"'There it is now! Jump out of bed, quick! Jump out, Mary!' he cried. +'See! it's right over your head.' +</P> + +<P> +"Mary showed no sign of fear as she lifted her eyes to the ceiling, and +gazed steadily for a few moments in that direction. +</P> + +<P> +"'There's nothing there, father,' said she, in a confident voice. +</P> + +<P> +"'It's gone now,' Joe spoke in a tone of relief. 'Your angel-look drove +it away. Aha! There it is now, creeping along the floor!' he suddenly +exclaimed, fearfully; starting away from where he stood. +</P> + +<P> +"'Here, father'! Here!' Mary called to him, and he sprung into the bed +again; while she gathered her arms about him tightly, saying in a low, +soothing voice, 'Nothing can harm you here, father.' +</P> + +<P> +"Without a moment's delay, I gave him the morphine left by Doctor +Green. He took it eagerly, and then crouched down in the bed, while +Mary continued to assure him of perfect safety. So long as he was +clearly conscious as to where he was, he remained perfectly still. But, +as soon as partial slumber came, he would scream out, and spring from +the bed in terror and then it would take us several minutes to quiet +him again. Six times during the night did this occur; and as often, +Mary coaxed him back. The morphine I continued to give as the doctor +had directed. By morning, the opiates had done their work, and he was +sleeping soundly. When the doctor came, we removed him to his own bed. +He is still asleep; and I begin to feel uneasy, lest he should never +awake again. I have heard of this happening." +</P> + +<P> +"See if father isn't awake," said Mary, raising her head from the +pillow. She had not heard what passed between her mother and Mrs. +Slade, for the conversation was carried on in low voices. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Morgan stepped to the door, and looked into the room where her +husband lay. +</P> + +<P> +"He is still asleep, dear," she remarked, coming back to the bed. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! I wish he was awake. I want to see him so much. Won't you call +him, mother?" +</P> + +<P> +"I have called him a good many times. But you know the doctor gave him +opium. He can't wake up yet." +</P> + +<P> +"He's been sleeping a very long time; don't you think so, mother?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, dear, it does seem a long time. But it is best for him. He'll be +better when he wakes." +</P> + +<P> +Mary closed her eyes, wearily. How deathly white was her face—how +sunken her eyes—how sharply contracted her features! +</P> + +<P> +"I've given her up, Mrs. Slade," said Mrs. Morgan, in a low, rough, +choking whisper, as she leaned nearer to her friend. "I've given her +up! The worst is over; but, oh! it seemed as though my heart would +break in the struggle. Dear child! In all the darkness of my way, she +has helped and comforted me. Without her, it would have been the +blackness of darkness." +</P> + +<P> +"Father! father!" The voice of Mary broke out with a startling +quickness. +</P> + +<P> +Mrs. Morgan turned to the bed, and laying her hand on Mary's arm said: +</P> + +<P> +"He's still sound asleep, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"No, he isn't, mother. I heard him move. Won't you go in and see if he +is awake?" +</P> + +<P> +In order to satisfy the child, her mother left the room. To her +surprise, she met the eyes of her husband as she entered the chamber +where he lay. He looked at her calmly. +</P> + +<P> +"What does Mary want with me?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"She wishes to see you. She's called you so many times. Shall I bring +her in here?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. I'll get up and dress myself." +</P> + +<P> +"I wouldn't do that. You've been sick." +</P> + +<P> +"Father! father!" The clear, earnest voice of Mary was heard calling. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm coming, dear," answered Morgan. +</P> + +<P> +"Come quick, father, won't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, love." And Morgan got up and dressed himself—but with unsteady +hands, and every sign of nervous prostration. In a little while, with +the assistance of his wife, he was ready, and supported by her, came +tottering into the room where Mary was lying. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, father!"—What a light broke over her countenance.—"I've been +waiting for you so long. I thought you were never going to wake up. +Kiss me, father." +</P> + +<P> +"What can I do for you, Mary?" asked Morgan, tenderly, as he laid his +face down upon the pillow beside her. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing, father. I don't wish for anything. I only wanted to see you." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm here now, love." +</P> + +<P> +"Dear father!" How earnestly, yet tenderly she spoke, laying her small +hand upon his face. "You've always been good to me, father." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no. I've never been good to anybody," sobbed the weak, +broken-spirited man, as he raised himself from the pillow. +</P> + +<P> +How deeply touched was Mrs. Slade, as she sat, the silent witness of +this scene! +</P> + +<P> +"You haven't been good to yourself, father—but you've always been good +to us." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't, Mary! don't say anything about that," interrupted Morgan. "Say +that I've been very bad—very wicked. Oh, Mary, dear! I only wish that +I was as good as you are; I'd like to die, then, and go right away from +this evil world. I wish there was no liquor to drink—no taverns—no +bar-rooms. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I wish I was dead." +</P> + +<P> +And the weak, trembling, half-palsied man laid his face again upon the +pillow beside his child, and sobbed aloud. +</P> + +<P> +What an oppressive silence reigned for a time through the room! +</P> + +<P> +"Father." The stillness was broken by Mary. Her voice was clear and +even. "Father, I want to tell you something." +</P> + +<P> +"What is it, Mary?" +</P> + +<P> +"There'll be nobody to go for you, father." The child's lips now +quivered, and tears filled into her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't talk about that, Mary. I'm not going out in the evening any more +until you get well. Don't you remember I promised?" +</P> + +<P> +"But, father"—She hesitated. +</P> + +<P> +"What, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"I'm going away to leave you and mother." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no—no—no, Mary! Don't say that."—The poor man's voice was +broken.—"Don't say that! We can't let you go, dear." +</P> + +<P> +"God has called me." The child's voice had a solemn tone, and her eyes +turned reverently upward. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish He would call me! Oh, I wish He would call me!" groaned Morgan, +hiding his face in his hands. "What shall I do when you are gone? Oh, +dear! Oh. dear!" +</P> + +<P> +"Father!" Mary spoke calmly again. "You are not ready to go yet. God +will let you live here longer, that you may get ready." +</P> + +<P> +"How can I get ready without you to help me, Mary? My angel child!" +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't I tried to help you, father, oh, so many times?" said Mary. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—yes—you've always tried." +</P> + +<P> +"But it wasn't any use. You would go out—you would go to the tavern. +It seemed most as if you couldn't help it." +</P> + +<P> +Morgan groaned in spirit. +</P> + +<P> +"Maybe I can help you better, father, after I die. I love you so much, +that I am sure God will let me come to you, and stay with you always, +and be your angel. Don't you think he will, mother?" +</P> + +<P> +But Mrs. Morgan's heart was too full. She did not even try to answer, +but sat, with streaming eyes, gazing upon her child's face. +</P> + +<P> +"Father. I dreamed something about you, while I slept to-day." Mary +again turned to her father. +</P> + +<P> +"What was it, dear?" +</P> + +<P> +"I thought it was night, and that I was still sick. You promised not to +go out again until I was well. But you did go out; and I thought you +went over to Mr. Slade's tavern. When I knew this, I felt as strong as +when I was well, and I got up and dressed myself, and started out after +you. But I hadn't gone far, before I met Mr. Slade's great bull-dog, +Nero, and he growled at me so dreadfully that I was frightened and ran +back home. Then I started again, and went away round by Mr. Mason's. +But there was Nero in the road, and this time he caught my dress in his +mouth and tore a great piece out of the skirt. I ran back again, and he +chased me all the way home. Just as I got to the door. I looked around, +and there was Mr. Slade, setting Nero on me. As soon as I saw Mr. +Slade, though he looked at me very wicked, I lost all my fear, and +turning around, I walked past Nero, who showed his teeth, and growled +as fiercely as ever, but didn't touch me. Then Mr. Slade tried to stop +me. But I didn't mind him, and kept right on, until I came to the +tavern, and there you stood in the door. And you were dressed so nice. +You had on a new hat and a new coat; and your boots were new, and +polished just like Judge Hammond's. I said: 'Oh father! is this you?' +And then you took me up in your arms and kissed me, and said: 'Yes, +Mary, I am your real father. Not old Joe Morgan—but Mr. Morgan now.' +It seemed all so strange, that I looked into the bar-room to see who +was there. But it wasn't a bar-room any longer; but a store full of +goods. The sign of the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was taken down; and over the +door I now read your name, father. Oh! I was so glad, that I awoke—and +then I cried all to myself, for it was only a dream." +</P> + +<P> +The last words were said very mournfully, and with a drooping of Mary's +lids, until the tear-gemmed lashes lay close upon her cheeks. Another +period of deep silence followed—for the oppressed listeners gave no +utterance to what was in their hearts. Feeling was too strong for +speech. Nearly five minutes glided away, and then Mary whispered the +name of her father, but without opening her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +Morgan answered, and bent down his ear. +</P> + +<P> +"You will only have mother left," she said—"only mother. And she cries +so much when you are away." +</P> + +<P> +"I won't leave her, Mary, only when I go to work," said Morgan, +whispering back to the child. "And I'll never go out at night any more." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; you promised me that." +</P> + +<P> +"And I'll promise more." +</P> + +<P> +"What, father?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never to go into a tavern again." +</P> + +<P> +"Never!" +</P> + +<P> +"No, never. And I'll promise still more." +</P> + +<P> +"Father?" +</P> + +<P> +"Never to drink a drop of liquor as long as I live." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, father! dear, dear father!" And with a cry of joy Mary started up +and flung herself upon his breast. Morgan drew his arms tightly around +her, and sat for a long time, with his lips pressed to her cheek—while +she lay against his bosom as still as death. As death? Yes: for when +the father unclasped his arms, the spirit of his child was with the +angels of the resurrection! +</P> + +<P> +It was my fourth evening in the bar-room of the 'Sickle and Sheaf'. The +company was not large, nor in very gay spirits. All had heard of little +Mary's illness; which followed so quickly on the blow from the tumbler, +that none hesitated about connecting the one with the other. So regular +had been the child's visits, and so gently excited, yet powerful her +influence over her father, that most of the frequenters at the 'Sickle +and Sheaf' had felt for her a more than common interest; which the +cruel treatment she received, and the subsequent illness, materially +heightened. +</P> + +<P> +"Joe Morgan hasn't turned up this evening," remarked some one. +</P> + +<P> +"And isn't likely to for a while" was answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Why not?" inquired the first speaker. +</P> + +<P> +"They say the man with the poker is after him." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, dear that's dreadful. Its the second or third chase, isn't it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"He'll be likely to catch him this time." +</P> + +<P> +"I shouldn't wonder." +</P> + +<P> +"Poor devil! It won't be much matter. His family will be a great deal +better without him." +</P> + +<P> +"It will be a blessing to them if he dies." +</P> + +<P> +"Miserable, drunken wretch!" muttered Harvey Green who was present. +"He's only in the way of everybody. The sooner he's off, the better." +</P> + +<P> +The landlord said nothing. He stood leaning across the bar, looking +more sober than usual. +</P> + +<P> +"That was rather an unlucky affair of yours Simon. They say the child +is going to die." +</P> + +<P> +"Who says so?" Slade started, scowled and threw a quick glance upon the +speaker. +</P> + +<P> +"Doctor Green." +</P> + +<P> +"Nonsense! Doctor Green never said any such thing." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, he did though." +</P> + +<P> +"Who heard him?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did." +</P> + +<P> +"You did?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"He wasn't in earnest?" A slight paleness overspread the countenance of +the landlord. "He was, though. They had an awful time there last night." +</P> + +<P> +"Where?" +</P> + +<P> +"At Joe Morgan's. Joe has the mania, and Mrs. Morgan was alone with him +and her sick girl all night." +</P> + +<P> +"He deserves to have it; that's all I've got to say." Slade tried to +speak with a kind of rough indifference. +</P> + +<P> +"That's pretty hard talk," said one of the company. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care if it is. It's the truth. What else could he expect?" +</P> + +<P> +"A man like Joe is to be pitied," remarked the other. +</P> + +<P> +"I pity his family," said Slade. +</P> + +<P> +"Especially little Mary." The words were uttered tauntingly, and +produced murmurs of satisfaction throughout the room. +</P> + +<P> +Slade started back from where he stood, in an impatient manner, saying +something that I did not hear. +</P> + +<P> +"Look here, Simon, I heard some strong suggestions over at Lawyer +Phillips' office to-day." +</P> + +<P> +Slade turned his eyes upon the speaker. +</P> + +<P> +"If that child should die, you'll probably have to stand a trial for +man-slaughter." +</P> + +<P> +"No—girl-slaughter," said Harvey Green, with a cold, inhuman chuckle. +</P> + +<P> +"But I'm in earnest." said the other. "Mr. Phillips said that a case +could be made out of it." +</P> + +<P> +"It was only an accident, and all the lawyers in Christendom can't make +anything more of it," remarked Green, taking the side of the landlord, +and speaking with more gravity than before. +</P> + +<P> +"Hardly an accident," was replied. +</P> + +<P> +"He didn't throw at the girl." +</P> + +<P> +"No matter. He threw a heavy tumbler at her father's head. The +intention was to do an injury; and the law will not stop to make any +nice discriminations in regard to the individual upon whom the injury +was wrought. Moreover, who is prepared to say that he didn't aim at the +girl?" +</P> + +<P> +"Any man who intimates such a thing is a cursed liar!" exclaimed the +landlord, half maddened by the suggestion. +</P> + +<P> +"I won't throw a tumbler at your head," coolly remarked the individual +whose plain speaking had so irritated Simon Slade, "Throwing tumblers I +never thought a very creditable kind of argument—though with some men, +when cornered, it is a favorite mode of settling a question. Now, as +for our friend the landlord, I am sorry to say that his new business +doesn't seem to have improved his manners or his temper a great deal. +As a miller, he was one of the best-tempered men in the world, and +wouldn't have harmed a kitten. But, now, he can swear, and bluster, and +throw glasses at people's heads, and all that sort of thing, with the +best of brawling rowdies. I'm afraid he's taking lessons in a bad +school—I am." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think you have any right to insult a man in his own house," +answered Slade, in a voice dropped to a lower key than the one in which +he had before spoken. +</P> + +<P> +"I had no intention to insult you," said the other. "I was only +speaking supposititiously, and in view of your position on a trial for +manslaughter, when I suggested that no one could prove, or say that you +didn't mean to strike little Mary, when you threw the tumbler." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I didn't mean to strike her: and I don't believe there is a man +in this bar-room who thinks that I did—not one." +</P> + +<P> +"I'm sure I do not," said the individual with whom he was in +controversy. "Nor I"—"Nor I" went round the room. +</P> + +<P> +"But, as I wished to set forth," was continued, "the case will not be +so plain a one when it finds its way into court, and twelve men, to +each of whom you may be a stranger, come to sit in judgment upon the +act. The slightest twist in the evidence, the prepossessions of a +witness, or the bad tact of the prosecution, may cause things to look +so dark on your side as to leave you but little chance. For my part, if +the child should die, I think your chances for a term in the state's +prison are as eight to ten; and I should call that pretty close +cutting." +</P> + +<P> +I looked attentively at the man who said this, all the while he was +speaking, but could not clearly make out whether he were altogether in +earnest, or merely trying to worry the mind of Slade. That he was +successful in accomplishing the latter, was very plain; for the +landlord's countenance steadily lost color, and became overcast with +alarm. With that evil delight which some men take in giving pain, +others, seeing Slade's anxious looks, joined in the persecution, and +soon made the landlord's case look black enough; and the landlord +himself almost as frightened as a criminal just under arrest. +</P> + +<P> +"It's bad business, and no mistake," said one. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, bad enough. I wouldn't be in his shoes for his coat," remarked +another. +</P> + +<P> +"For his coat? No, not for his whole wardrobe," said a third. +</P> + +<P> +"Nor for the 'Sickle and Sheaf thrown into the bargain," added a fourth. +</P> + +<P> +"It will be a clear case of manslaughter, and no mistake. What is the +penalty?" +</P> + +<P> +"From two to ten years in the penitentiary," was readily answered. +</P> + +<P> +"They'll give him five. I reckon." +</P> + +<P> +"No—not more than two. It will be hard to prove malicious intention." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know that. I've heard him curse the girl and threaten her many +a time. Haven't you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes"—"Yes"—"I have, often," ran round the bar-room. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better hang me at once," said Slade, affecting to laugh. +</P> + +<P> +At this moment, the door behind Slade opened, and I saw his wife's +anxious face thrust in for a moment. She said something to her husband, +who uttered a low ejaculation of surprise, and went out quickly. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter now?" asked one of another. +</P> + +<P> +"I shouldn't wonder if little Mary Morgan was dead," was suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"I heard her say dead," remarked one who was standing near the bar. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter, Frank?" inquired several voices, as the landlord's +son came in through the door out of which his father had passed. +</P> + +<P> +"Mary Morgan is dead," answered the boy. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor child! Poor child!" sighed one, in genuine regret at the not +unlooked for intelligence. "Her trouble is over." +</P> + +<P> +And there was not one present, but Harvey Green, who did not utter some +word of pity or sympathy. He shrugged his shoulders, and looked as much +of contempt and indifference as he thought it prudent to express. +</P> + +<P> +"See here, boys," spoke out one of the company, "can't we do something +for poor Mrs. Morgan? Can't we make up a purse for her?" +</P> + +<P> +"That's it," was quickly responded; "I'm good for three dollars; and +there they are," drawing out the money and laying it upon the counter. +</P> + +<P> +"And here are five to go with them," said I, quickly stepping forward, +and placing a five-dollar bill along side of the first contribution. +</P> + +<P> +"Here are five more," added a third individual. And so it went on, +until thirty dollars were paid down for the benefit of Mrs. Morgan. +</P> + +<P> +"Into whose hands shall this be placed?" was next asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Let me suggest Mrs. Slade," said I. "To my certain knowledge, she has +been with Mrs. Morgan to-night. I know that she feels in her a true +woman's interest." +</P> + +<P> +"Just the person," was answered. "Frank, tell your mother we would like +to see her. Ask her to step into the sitting-room." +</P> + +<P> +In a few moments the boy came back, and said that his mother would see +us in the next room, into which we all passed. Mrs. Slade stood near +the table, on which burned a lamp. I noticed that her eyes were red, +and that there was on her countenance a troubled and sorrowful +expression. +</P> + +<P> +"We have just heard," said one of the company, "that little Mary Morgan +is dead." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—it is too true," answered Mrs. Slade, mournfully. "I have just +left there. Poor child! she has passed from an evil world." +</P> + +<P> +"Evil it has indeed been to her," was remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"You may well say that. And yet, amid all the evil, she been an angel +of mercy. Her last thought in dying was of her miserable father. For +him, at any time, she would have laid down her life willingly." +</P> + +<P> +"Her mother must be nearly broken-hearted. Mary is the last of her +children." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet the child's death may prove a blessing to her." +</P> + +<P> +"How so?" +</P> + +<P> +"Her father promised Mary, just at the last moment—solemnly promised +her—that, henceforth, he would never taste liquor. That was all her +trouble. That was the thorn in her dying pillow. But he plucked it out, +and she went to sleep, lying against his heart. Oh, gentlemen! it was +the most touching sight I ever saw." +</P> + +<P> +All present seemed deeply moved. +</P> + +<P> +"They are very poor and wretched." was said. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor and miserable enough," answered Mrs.' Slade. +</P> + +<P> +"We have just been taking up a collection for Mrs. Morgan. Here is the +money, Mrs. Slade—thirty dollars—we place it in your hands for her +benefit. Do with it, for her, as you may see best." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, gentlemen!" What a quick gleam went over the face of Mrs. Slade. +"I thank you, from my heart, in the name of that unhappy one, for this +act of true benevolence. To you the sacrifice has been small, to her +the benefit will be great indeed. A new life will, I trust be commenced +by her husband, and this timely aid will be something to rest upon, +until he can get into better employment than he now has. Oh, gentlemen! +let me urge on you, one and all, to make common cause in favor of Joe +Morgan. His purposes are good now, he means to keep his promise to his +dying child—means to reform his life. Let good impulses that led to +that act of relief further prompt you to watch over him and, if you see +him about going astray, to lead him kindly back into the right path. +Never—oh' never encourage him to drink, but rather take the glass from +his hand, if his own appetite lead him aside and by all the persuasive +influence you possess, induce him to go out from the place of +temptation. +</P> + +<P> +"Pardon my boldness in saying so much" added Mrs. Slade, recollecting +herself and coloring deeply as she did so "My feelings have led me +away." +</P> + +<P> +And she took the money from the table where it had been placed, and +retired toward the door. +</P> + +<P> +"You have spoken well madam" was answered "And we thank you for +reminding us of our duty." +</P> + +<P> +"One word more—and forgive the earnest heart from which it +comes"—said Mrs. Slade in a voice that trembled on the words she +uttered "I cannot help speaking, gentlemen! Think if some of you be not +entering the road wherein Joe Morgan has so long been walking. Save him +in heaven's name! but see that ye do not yourselves become castaways!" +</P> + +<P> +As she said this she glided through the door and it closed after her. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know what her husband would say to that," was remarked after a +few moments of surprised silence. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care what HE would say, but I'll tell you what <I>I</I> will say" +spoke out a man whom I had several times noticed as a rather a free +tippler "The old lady has given us capital advice, and I mean to take +it, for one. I'm going to try to save Joe Morgan, and—myself too. I've +already entered the road she referred to; but I'm going to turn back. +So good-night to you all; and if Simon Slade gets no more of my +sixpences, he may thank his wife for it—God bless her!" +</P> + +<P> +And the man drew his hat with a jerk over his forehead, and left +immediately. +</P> + +<P> +This seemed the signal for dispersion, and all retired—not by way of +the bar-room, but out into the hall, and through the door leading upon +the porch that ran along in front of the house. Soon after the bar was +closed, and a dead silence reigned throughout the house. I saw no more +of Slade that night. Early in the morning, I left Cedarville; the +landlord looked very sober when he bade me good-bye through the +stage-door, and wished me a pleasant journey. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE FIFTH. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SOME OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF TAVERN-KEEPING. +</H3> + +<P> +Nearly five years glided away before business again called me to +Cedarville. I knew little of what passed there in the interval, except +that Simon Slade had actually been indicted for manslaughter, in +causing the death of Morgan's child. He did not stand a trial, however, +Judge Lyman having used his influence, successfully, in getting the +indictment quashed. The judge, some people said, interested himself in +Slade more than was just seemly—especially, as he had, on several +occasions, in the discharge of his official duties, displayed what +seemed an over-righteous indignation against individuals arraigned for +petty offences. The impression made upon me by Judge Lyman had not been +favorable. He seemed a cold, selfish, scheming man of the world. That +he was an unscrupulous politician, was plain to me, in a single +evening's observation of his sayings and doings among the common herd +of a village bar-room. +</P> + +<P> +As the stage rolled, with a gay flourish of our driver's bugle, into +the village, I noted here and there familiar objects, and marked the +varied evidences of change. Our way was past the elegant residence and +grounds of Judge Hammond, the most beautiful and highly cultivated in +Cedarville. At least, such it was regarded at the time of my previous +visit. But, the moment my eyes rested upon the dwelling and its various +surroundings, I perceived an altered aspect. Was it the simple work of +time? or, had familiarity with other and more elegantly arranged +suburban homes, marred this in my eyes by involuntary contrast? Or had +the hand of cultivation really been stayed, and the marring fingers of +neglect suffered undisturbed to trace on every thing disfiguring +characters? +</P> + +<P> +Such questions were in my thoughts, when I saw a man in the large +portico of the dwelling, the ample columns of which, capped in rich +Corinthian, gave the edifice the aspect of a Grecian temple. He stood +leaning against one of the columns—his hat off, and his long gray hair +thrown back and resting lightly on his neck and shoulders. His head was +bent down upon his breast, and he seemed in deep abstraction. Just as +the coach swept by, he looked up, and in the changed features I +recognized Judge Hammond. His complexion was still florid, but his face +had grown thin, and his eyes were sunken. Trouble was written in every +lineament. Trouble? How inadequately does the word express my meaning! +Ah! at a single glance, what a volume of suffering was opened to the +gazer's eye. Not lightly had the foot of time rested there, as if +treading on odorous flowers, but heavily, and with iron-shod heel. This +I saw at a glance; and then, only the image of the man was present to +my inner vision, for the swiftly rolling stage-coach had borne me +onward past the altered home of the wealthiest denizen of Cedarville. +In a few minutes our driver reined up before the "Sickle and Sheaf," +and as I stepped to the ground, a rotund, coarse, red-faced man, whom I +failed to recognize as Simon Slade until he spoke, grasped my hand, and +pronounced my name. I could not but contrast, in thought, his +appearance with what it was when I first saw him, some six years +previously; nor help saying to myself: +</P> + +<P> +"So much for tavern-keeping!" +</P> + +<P> +As marked a change was visible everywhere in and around the "Sickle and +Sheaf." It, too, had grown larger by additions of wings and rooms; but +it had also grown coarser in growing larger. When built, all the doors +were painted white, and the shutters green, giving to the house a neat, +even tasteful appearance. But the white and green had given place to a +dark, dirty brown, that to my eyes was particularly unattractive. The +bar-room had been extended, and now a polished brass rod, or railing, +embellished the counter, and sundry ornamental attractions had been +given to the shelving behind the bar—such as mirrors, gilding, etc. +Pictures, too, were hung upon the walls, or more accurately speaking; +coarse colored lithographs, the subjects of which, if not really +obscene, were flashing, or vulgar. In the sitting-room, next to the +bar, I noticed little change of objects, but much in their condition. +The carpet, chairs, and tables were the same in fact, but far from +being the same in appearance. The room had a close, greasy odor, and +looked as if it had not been thoroughly swept and dusted for a week. +</P> + +<P> +A smart young Irishman was in the bar, and handed me the book in which +passenger's names were registered. After I had recorded mine, he +directed my trunk to be carried to the room designated as the one I was +to occupy. I followed the porter, who conducted me to the chamber which +had been mine at previous visits. Here, too, were evidences of change; +but not for the better. Then the room was as sweet and clean as it +could be; the sheets and pillow-cases as white as snow, and the +furniture shining with polish. Now all was dusty and dingy, the air +foul, and the bed-linen scarcely whiter than tow. No curtain made +softer the light as it came through the window; nor would the shutters +entirely keep out the glare, for several of the slats were broken. A +feeling of disgust came over me, at the close smell and foul appearance +of everything; so, after washing my hands and face, and brushing the +dust from my clothes, I went down stairs. The sitting-room was scarcely +more attractive than my chamber; so I went out upon the porch and took +a chair. Several loungers were here; hearty, strong-looking, but lazy +fellows, who, if they had anything to do, liked idling better than +working. One of them leaned his chair back against the wall of the +house, and was swinging his legs with a half circular motion, and +humming "Old Folks at Home." Another sat astride of a chair, with his +face turned toward, and his chin resting upon, the back. He was in too +lazy a condition of body and mind for motion or singing. A third had +slidden down in his chair, until he sat on his back, while his feet +were elevated above his head, and rested against one of the pillars +that supported the porch; while a fourth lay stretched out on a bench, +sleeping, his hat over his face to protect him from buzzing and biting +flies. +</P> + +<P> +Though all but the sleeping man eyed me inquisitively, as I took my +place among them, not one changed his position. The rolling of +eye-balls cost but little exertion; and with that effort they were +contented. +</P> + +<P> +"Hallo! who's that?" one of these loungers suddenly exclaimed, as a man +went swiftly by in a light sulky; and he started up, and gazed down the +road, seeking to penetrate the cloud of dust which the fleet rider had +swept up with hoofs and wheels. +</P> + +<P> +"I didn't see." The sleeping man aroused himself, rubbed his eyes, and +gazed along the road. +</P> + +<P> +"Who was it, Matthew?" The Irish bar-keeper now stood in the door. +</P> + +<P> +"Willy Hammond," was answered by Matthew. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed! Is that his new three hundred dollar horse?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"My! but he's a screamer!" +</P> + +<P> +"Isn't he! Most as fast as his young master." +</P> + +<P> +"Hardly," said one of the men, laughing. "I don't think anything in +creation can beat Hammond. He goes it with a perfect rush." +</P> + +<P> +"Doesn't he! Well; you may say what you please of him, he's as +good-hearted a fellow as ever walked; and generous to a fault." +</P> + +<P> +"His old dad will agree with you in the last remark," said Matthew. +</P> + +<P> +"No doubt of that, for he has to stand the bills," was answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, whether he will or no, for I rather think Willy has, somehow or +other, got the upper hand of him." +</P> + +<P> +"In what way?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's Hammond and Son, over at the mill and distillery." +</P> + +<P> +"I know; but what of that!" +</P> + +<P> +"Willy was made the business man—ostensibly—in order, as the old man +thought, to get him to feel the responsibility of the new position, and +thus tame him down." +</P> + +<P> +"Tame HIM down! Oh, dear! It will take more than business to do that. +The curb was applied too late." +</P> + +<P> +"As the old gentleman has already discovered, I'm thinking, to his +sorrow." +</P> + +<P> +"He never comes here any more; does he, Matthew?" +</P> + +<P> +"Who?" +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Hammond." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, dear, no. He and Slade had all sorts of a quarrel about a year +ago, and he's never darkened our doors since." +</P> + +<P> +"It was something about Willy and—." The speaker did not mention any +name, but winked knowingly and tossed his head toward the entrance of +the house, to indicate some member of Slade's family. +</P> + +<P> +"I believe so." +</P> + +<P> +"D'ye think Willy really likes her?" +</P> + +<P> +Matthew shrugged his shoulders, but made no answer. +</P> + +<P> +"She's a nice girl," was remarked in an under tone, "and good enough +for Hammond's son any day; though, if she were my daughter, I'd rather +see her in Jericho than fond of his company." +</P> + +<P> +"He'll have plenty of money to give her. She can live like a queen." +</P> + +<P> +"For how long?" +</P> + +<P> +"Hush!" came from the lips of Matthew. "There she is now." +</P> + +<P> +I looked up, and saw at a short distance from the house, and +approaching, a young lady, in whose sweet, modest face, I at once +recognized Flora Slade, Five years had developed her into a beautiful +woman. In her alone, of all that appertained to Simon Slade, there was +no deterioration. Her eyes were as mild and pure as when first I met +her at gentle sixteen, and her father said "My daughter," with such a +mingling of pride and affection in his tone. She passed near where I +was sitting, and entered the house. A closer view showed me some marks +of thought and suffering; but they only heightened the attraction of +her face. I failed not to observe the air of respect with which all +returned her slight nod and smile of recognition. +</P> + +<P> +"She's a nice girl, and no mistake—the flower of this flock," was +said, as soon as she passed into the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Too good for Willy Hammond, in my opinion," said Matthew. "Clever and +generous as people call him." +</P> + +<P> +"Just my opinion," was responded. "She's as pure and good, almost, as +an angel; and he?—I can tell you what—he's not the clean thing. He +knows a little too much of the world—on its bad side, I mean." +</P> + +<P> +The appearance of Slade put an end to this conversation. A second +observation of his person and countenance did not remove the first +unfavorable impression. His face had grown decidedly bad in expression, +as well as gross and sensual. The odor of his breath, as he took a +chair close to where I was sitting, was that of one who drank +habitually and freely; and the red, swimming eyes evidenced, too +surely, a rapid progress toward the sad condition of a confirmed +inebriate. There was, too, a certain thickness of speech, that gave +another corroborating sign of evil progress. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you seen anything of Frank this afternoon?" he inquired of +Matthew, after we had passed a few words. +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing," was the bar-keeper's answer. +</P> + +<P> +"I saw him with Tom Wilkins as I came over," said one of the men who +was sitting in the porch. +</P> + +<P> +"What was he doing with Tom Wilkins?" said Slade, in a fretted tone of +voice. "He doesn't seem very choice in his company." +</P> + +<P> +"They were gunning." +</P> + +<P> +"Gunning!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. They both had fowling-pieces. I wasn't near enough to ask where +they were going." +</P> + +<P> +This information disturbed Slade a good deal. After muttering to +himself a little while, he started up and went into the house. +</P> + +<P> +"And I could have told him a little more, had I been so inclined," said +the individual who mentioned the fact that Frank was with Tom Wilkins. +</P> + +<P> +"What more?" inquired Matthew. +</P> + +<P> +"There was a buggy in the case; and a champagne basket. What the latter +contained you can easily guess." +</P> + +<P> +"Whose buggy?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know anything about the buggy; but if 'Lightfoot' doesn't sink +in value a hundred dollars or so before sundown, call me a false +prophet." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no," said Matthew, incredulously. "Frank wouldn't do an outrageous +thing like that. Lightfoot won't be in a condition to drive for a month +to come." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't care. She's out now; and the way she was putting it down when +I saw her, would have made a locomotive look cloudy." +</P> + +<P> +"Where did he get her?" was inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"She's been in the six-acre field, over by Mason's Bridge, for the last +week or so," Matthew answered. "Well; all I have to say," he added, "is +that Frank ought to be slung up and well horse-whipped. I never saw +such a young rascal. He cares for no good, and fears no evil. He's the +worst boy I ever saw." +</P> + +<P> +"It would hardly do for you to call him a boy to his face," said one of +the men, laughing. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't have much to say to him in any way," replied Matthew, "for I +know very well that if we ever do get into a regular quarrel, there'll +be a hard time of it. The same house will not hold us afterward—that's +certain. So I steer clear of the young reprobate." +</P> + +<P> +"I wonder his father don't put him to some business," was remarked. +"The idle life he now leads will be his ruin." +</P> + +<P> +"He was behind the bar for a year or two." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; and was smart at mixing a glass—but—" +</P> + +<P> +"Was himself becoming too good a customer?" +</P> + +<P> +"Precisely. He got drunk as a fool before reaching his fifteenth year." +</P> + +<P> +"Good gracious!" I exclaimed, involuntarily. +</P> + +<P> +"It's true, sir," said the last speaker, turning to me, "I never saw +anything like it. And this wasn't all bar-room talk, which, as you may +know, isn't the most refined and virtuous in the world. I wouldn't like +my son to hear much of it. Frank was always an eager listener to +everything that was said, and in a very short time became an adept in +slang and profanity. I'm no saint myself; but it's often made my blood +run cold to hear him swear." +</P> + +<P> +"I pity his mother," said I; for my thought turned naturally to Mrs. +Slade. +</P> + +<P> +"You may well do that," was answered. "I doubt if Cedarville holds a +sadder heart. It was a dark day for her, let me tell you, when Simon +Slade sold his mill and built this tavern. She was opposed to it at the +beginning." +</P> + +<P> +"I have inferred as much." +</P> + +<P> +"I know it," said the man. "My wife has been intimate with her for +years. Indeed, they have always been like sisters. I remember very well +her coming to our house, about the time the mill was sold, and crying +about it as if her heart would break. She saw nothing but sorrow and +trouble ahead. Tavern-keeping she had always regarded as a low +business, and the change from a respectable miller to a lazy +tavern-keeper, as she expressed it, was presented to her mind as +something disgraceful. I remember, very well, trying to argue the point +with her—assuming that it was quite as respectable to keep tavern as +to do anything else; but I might as well have talked to the wind. She +was always a pleasant, hopeful, cheerful woman before that time, but, +really, I don't think I've seen a true smile on her face since." +</P> + +<P> +"That was a great deal for a man to lose," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" he inquired, not clearly understanding me. +</P> + +<P> +"The cheerfull face of his wife." +</P> + +<P> +"The face was but an index of her heart," said he. +</P> + +<P> +"So much the worse." +</P> + +<P> +"True enough for that. Yes, it was a great deal to lose. +</P> + +<P> +"What has he gained that will make up for this?" +</P> + +<P> +The man shrugged his shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +"What has he gained?" I repeated. "Can you figure it up?" +</P> + +<P> +"He's a richer man, for one thing." +</P> + +<P> +"Happier?" +</P> + +<P> +There was another shrug of the shoulders. "I wouldn't like to say that." +</P> + +<P> +"How much richer?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, a great deal. Somebody was saying, only yesterday, that he +couldn't be worth less than thirty thousand dollars." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed? So much." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"How has he managed to accumulate so rapidly?" +</P> + +<P> +"His bar has a large run of custom. And, you know, that pays +wonderfully." +</P> + +<P> +"He must have sold a great deal of liquor in six years." +</P> + +<P> +"And he has. I don't think I'm wrong in saying that in the six years +which have gone by since the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was opened, more liquor +has been drank than in the previous twenty years." +</P> + +<P> +"Say forty," remarked a man who had been a listener to what we said. +</P> + +<P> +"Let it be forty then," was the according answer. +</P> + +<P> +"How comes this?" I inquired. "You had a tavern here before the 'Sickle +and Sheaf' was opened." +</P> + +<P> +"I know we had, and several places besides, where liquor was sold. But, +everybody far and near knew Simon Slade the miller, and everybody liked +him. He was a good miller, and a cheerful, social, chatty sort of man +putting everybody in a good humor who came near him. So it became the +talk everywhere, when he built this house, which he fitted up nicer +than anything that had been seen in these parts. Judge Hammond, Judge +Lyman, Lawyer Wilson, and all the big bugs of the place at once +patronized the new tavern, and of course, everybody else did the same. +So, you can easily see how he got such a run." +</P> + +<P> +"It was thought, in the beginning," said I, "that the new tavern was +going to do wonders for Cedarville." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," answered the man laughing, "and so it has." +</P> + +<P> +"In what respect?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, in many. It has made some men richer, and some poorer." +</P> + +<P> +"Who has it made poorer?" +</P> + +<P> +"Dozens of people. You may always take it for granted, when you see a +tavern-keeper who has a good run at his bar, getting rich, that a great +many people are getting poor." +</P> + +<P> +"How so?" I wished to hear in what way the man who was himself, as was +plain to see, a good customer at somebody's bar, reasoned on the +subject. +</P> + +<P> +"He does not add to the general wealth. He produces nothing. He takes +money from his customers, but gives them no article of value in +return—nothing that can be called property, personal or real. He is +just so much richer and they just so much poorer for the exchange. Is +it not so?" +</P> + +<P> +I readily assented to the position as true, and then said— +</P> + +<P> +"Who, in particular, is poorer?" +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Hammond, for one." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed! I thought the advance in his property, in consequence of the +building of this tavern, was so great, that he was reaping a rich +pecuniary harvest." +</P> + +<P> +"There was a slight advance in property along the street after the +'Sickle and Sheaf' was opened, and Judge Hammond was benefited thereby. +Interested parties made a good deal of noise about it; but it didn't +amount to much, I believe." +</P> + +<P> +"What has caused the judge to grow poorer?" +</P> + +<P> +"The opening of this tavern, as I just said." +</P> + +<P> +"In what way did it affect him?" +</P> + +<P> +"He was among Slade's warmest supporters, as soon as he felt the +advance in the price of building lots, called him one of the most +enterprising men in Cedarville—a real benefactor to the place—and all +that stuff. To set a good example of patronage, he came over every day +and took his glass of brandy, and encouraged everybody else that he +could influence to do the same. Among those who followed his example +was his son Willy. There was not, let me tell you, in all the country +for twenty miles around, a finer young man than Willy, nor one of so +much promise, when this man-trap"—he let his voice fall, and glanced +around, as he thus designated Slade's tavern—"was opened; and now, +there is not one dashing more recklessly along the road to ruin. When +too late, his father saw that his son was corrupted, and that the +company he kept was of a dangerous character. Two reasons led him to +purchase Slade's old mill, and turn it into a factory and a distillery. +Of course, he had to make a heavy outlay for additional buildings, +machinery, and distilling apparatus. The reasons influencing him were +the prospect of realizing a large amount of money, especially in +distilling, and the hope of saving Willy, by getting him closely +engaged and interested in business. To accomplish, more certainly, the +latter end, he unwisely transferred to his son, as his own capital, +twenty thousand dollars, and then formed with him a regular +copartnership—giving Willy an active business control. +</P> + +<P> +"But the experiment, sir," added the man, emphatically, "has proved a +failure. I heard yesterday, that both mill and distillery were to be +shut up, and offered for sale." +</P> + +<P> +"They did not prove as money-making as was anticipated?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, not under Willy Hammond's management. He had made too many bad +acquaintances—men who clung to him because he had plenty of money at +his command, and spent it as freely as water. One-half of his time he +was away from the mill, and while there, didn't half attend to +business. I've heard it said—and I don't much doubt its truth—that +he's squandered his twenty thousand dollars, and a great deal more +besides." +</P> + +<P> +"How is that possible?" +</P> + +<P> +"Well; people talk, and not always at random. There's been a man +staying here, most of his time, for the last four or five years, named +Green. He does not do anything, and don't seem to have any friends in +the neighborhood. Nobody knows where he came from, and he is not at all +communicative on that head himself. Well, this man became acquainted +with young Hammond after Willy got to visiting the bar here, and +attached himself to him at once. They have, to all appearance, been +fast friends ever since; riding about, or going off on gunning or +fishing excursions almost every day, and secluding themselves somewhere +nearly every evening. That man, Green, sir, it is whispered, is a +gambler; and I believe it. Granted, and there is no longer a mystery as +to what Willy does with his own and his father's money." +</P> + +<P> +I readily assented to this view of the case. +</P> + +<P> +"And so assuming that Green is a gambler," said I, "he has grown +richer, in consequence of the opening of a new and more attractive +tavern in Cedarville." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, and Cedarville is so much the poorer for all his gains; for I've +never heard of his buying a foot of ground, or in any way encouraging +productive industry. He's only a blood-sucker." +</P> + +<P> +"It is worse than the mere abstraction of money," I remarked; "he +corrupts his victims, at the same time that he robs them." +</P> + +<P> +"True." +</P> + +<P> +"Willy Hammond may not be his only victim," I suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"Nor is he, in my opinion. I've been coming to this bar, nightly, for a +good many years—a sorry confession for a man to make, I must own," he +added, with a slight tinge of shame; "but so it is. Well, as I was +saying, I've been coming to this bar, nightly, for a good many years, +and I generally see all that is going on around me. Among the regular +visitors are at least half a dozen young men, belonging to our best +families—who have been raised with care, and well educated. That their +presence here is unknown to their friends, I am quite certain—or, at +least, unknown and unsuspected by some of them. They do not drink a +great deal yet; but all try a glass or two. Toward nine o'clock, often +at an earlier hour, you will see one and another of them go quietly out +of the bar, through the sitting-room, preceded, or soon followed, by +Green and Slade. At any hour of the night, up to one or two, and +sometimes three o'clock, you can see light streaming through the rent +in a curtain drawn before a particular window, which I know to be in +the room of Harvey Green. These are facts, sir; and you can draw your +own conclusion. I think it a very serious matter." +</P> + +<P> +"Why does Slade go out with these young men?" I inquired. "Do you think +he gambles also?" +</P> + +<P> +"If he isn't a kind of a stool-pigeon for Harvey Green, then I'm +mistaken again." +</P> + +<P> +"Hardly. He cannot, already, have become so utterly unprincipled." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a bad school, sir, this tavern-keeping," said the man. +</P> + +<P> +"I readily grant you that." +</P> + +<P> +"And it's nearly seven years since he commenced to take lessons. A +great deal may be learned, sir, of good or evil, in seven years, +especially if any interest be taken in the studies." +</P> + +<P> +"True." +</P> + +<P> +"And it's true in this case, you may depend upon it. Simon Slade is not +the man he was, seven years ago. Anybody with half an eye can see that. +He's grown selfish, grasping, unscrupulous, and passionate. There could +hardly be a greater difference between men than exists between Simon +Slade the tavern-keeper, and Simon Slade the miller." +</P> + +<P> +"And intemperate, also?" I suggested. +</P> + +<P> +"He's beginning to take a little too much," was answered. +</P> + +<P> +"In that case, he'll scarcely be as well off five years hence as he is +now." +</P> + +<P> +"He's at the top of the wheel, some of us think." +</P> + +<P> +"What has led to this opinion?" +</P> + +<P> +"He's beginning to neglect his house, for one thing." +</P> + +<P> +"A bad sign." +</P> + +<P> +"And there is another sign. Heretofore, he has always been on hand, +with the cash, when desirable property went off, under forced sale, at +a bargain. In the last three or four months, several great sacrifices +have been made, but Simon Slade showed no inclination to buy. Put this +fact against another,—week before last, he sold a house and lot in the +town for five hundred dollars less than he paid for them, a year +ago—and for just that sum less than their true value." +</P> + +<P> +"How came that?" I inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! there's the question! He wanted money; though for what purpose he +has not intimated to any one, as far as I can learn." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think of it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just this. He and Green have been hunting together in times past; but +the professed gambler's instincts are too strong to let him spare even +his friend in evil. They have commenced playing one against the other." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! you think so?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do; and if I conjecture rightly, Simon Slade will be a poorer man, +in a year from this time, than he is now." +</P> + +<P> +Here our conversation was interrupted. Some one asked my talkative +friend to go and take a drink, and he, nothing loath, left me without +ceremony. +</P> + +<P> +Very differently served was the supper I partook of on that evening, +from the one set before me on the occasion of my first visit to the +"Sickle and Sheaf." The table-cloth was not merely soiled, but +offensively dirty; the plates, cups, and saucers, dingy and sticky; the +knives and forks unpolished; and the food of a character to satisfy the +appetite with a very few mouthfuls. Two greasy-looking Irish girls +waited on the table, at which neither landlord nor landlady presided. I +was really hungry when the supper-bell rang; but the craving of my +stomach soon ceased in the atmosphere of the dining-room, and I was the +first to leave the table. +</P> + +<P> +Soon after the lamps were lighted, company began to assemble in the +spacious bar-room, where were comfortable seats, with tables, +newspapers, backgammon boards, dominoes, etc. The first act of nearly +every one who came in was to call for a glass of liquor; and sometimes +the same individual drank two or three times in the course of half an +hour, on the invitation of new comers who were convivially inclined. +</P> + +<P> +Most of those who came in were strangers to me. I was looking from face +to face to see if any of the old company were present, when one +countenance struck me as familiar. I was studying it, in order, if +possible, to identify the person, when some one addressed him as +"Judge." +</P> + +<P> +Changed as the face was, I now recognized it as that of Judge Lyman. +Five years had marred that face terribly. It seemed twice the former +size; and all its bright expression was gone. The thickened and +protruding eyelids half closed the leaden eyes, and the swollen lips +and cheeks gave to his countenance a look of all predominating +sensuality. True manliness had bowed itself in debasing submission to +the bestial. He talked loudly, and with a pompous dogmatism—mainly on +political subjects—but talked only from memory; for any one could see, +that thought came into but feeble activity. And yet, derationalized, so +to speak, as he was, through drink, he had been chosen a representative +in Congress, at the previous election, on the anti-temperance ticket, +and by a very handsome majority. He was the rum candidate; and the rum +interest, aided by the easily swayed "indifferents," swept aside the +claims of law, order, temperance, and good morals; and the district +from which he was chosen as a National Legislator sent him up to the +National Councils, and said in the act—"Look upon him we have chosen +as our representative, and see in him a type of our principles, our +quality, and our condition, as a community." +</P> + +<P> +Judge Lyman, around whom a little circle soon gathered, was very severe +on the temperance party, which, for two years, had opposed his +election, and which, at the last struggle, showed itself to be a +rapidly growing organization. During the canvass, a paper was published +by this party, in which his personal habits, character, and moral +principles were discussed in the freest manner, and certainly not in a +way to elevate him in the estimation of men whose opinion was of any +value. +</P> + +<P> +It was not much to be wondered at, that he assumed to think temperance +issues at the polls were false issues; and that when temperance men +sought to tamper with elections, the liberties of the people were in +danger; nor that he pronounced the whole body of temperance men as +selfish schemers and canting hypocrites. +</P> + +<P> +"The next thing we will have," he exclaimed, warming with his theme, +and speaking so loud that his voice sounded throughout the room, and +arrested every one's attention, "will be laws to fine any man who takes +a chew of tobacco, or lights a cigar. Touch the liberties of the people +in the smallest particular, and all guarantees are gone. The Stamp Act, +against which our noble forefathers rebelled, was a light measure of +oppression to that contemplated by these worse than fanatics." +</P> + +<P> +"You are right there, judge; right for once in your life, if you (hic) +were never right before!" exclaimed a battered-looking specimen of +humanity, who stood near the speaker, slapping Judge Lyman on the +shoulder familiarly as he spoke. "There's no telling what they will do. +There's (hic) my old uncle Josh Wilson, who's been keeper of the +Poor-house these ten years. Well, they're going to turn him out, if +ever they get the upper hand in Bolton county." +</P> + +<P> +"If? That word involves a great deal, Harry!" said Lyman. "We mus'n't +let them get the upper hand. Every man has a duty to perform to his +country in this matter, and every one must do his duty. But what have +they got against your Uncle Joshua? What has he been doing to offend +this righteous party?" +</P> + +<P> +"They've nothing against him, (hic) I believe. Only, they say, they're +not going to have a Poor-house in the county at all." +</P> + +<P> +"What! Going to turn the poor wretches out to starve?" said one. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh no! (hic)," and the fellow grinned, half shrewdly and half +maliciously, as he answered—"no, not that. But, when they carry the +day, there'll be no need of Poor-houses. At least, that's their +talk—and I guess maybe there's something in it, for I never knew a man +to go to the Poor-house, who hadn't (hic) rum to blame for his poverty. +But, you see, I'm interested in this matter. I go for keeping up the +Poor-house (hic); for I guess I'm travelling that road, and I shouldn't +like to get to the last milestone (hic) and find no snug quarters—no +Uncle Josh. You're safe for one vote, any how, old chap, on next +election day!" And the man's broad hand slapped the member's shoulder +again. "Huzza for the rummies! That's (hic) the ticket! Harry Grimes +never deserts his friends. True as steel!" +</P> + +<P> +"You're a trump!" returned Judge Lyman, with low familiarity. "Never +fear about the Poor-house and Uncle Josh. They're all safe." +</P> + +<P> +"But look here, judge," resumed the man. "It isn't only the Poor-house, +the jail is to go next." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, that's their talk; and I guess they ain't far out of the way, +neither. What takes men to jail? You can tell us something about that, +judge, for you've jugged a good many in your time. Didn't pretty much +all of 'em drink rum (hic)?" +</P> + +<P> +But the judge answered nothing. +</P> + +<P> +"Silence (hic) gives consent," resumed Grimes. "And they say more; once +give 'em the upper hand—and they're confident of beating us—and the +Courthouse will be to let. As for judges and lawyers, they'll starve, +or go into some better business. So you see, (hic) judge, your +liberties are in danger. But fight hard, old fellow; and if you must +die, (hic) die game!" +</P> + +<P> +How well Judge Lyman relished this mode of presenting the case, was not +very apparent; he was too good a politician and office-seeker, to show +any feeling on the subject, and thus endanger a vote. Harry Grimes' +vote counted one, and a single vote sometimes gained or lost an +election. +</P> + +<P> +"One of their gags," he said, laughing. "But I'm too old a stager not +to see the flimsiness of such pretensions. Poverty and crime have their +origin in the corrupt heart, and their foundations are laid long and +long before the first step is taken on the road to inebriety. It is +easy to promise results; for only the few look at causes, and trace +them to their effects." +</P> + +<P> +"Rum and ruin (hic). Are they not cause and effect?" asked Grimes. +</P> + +<P> +"Sometimes they are," was the half extorted answer. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Green, is that you?" exclaimed the judge, as Harvey Green came in +with a soft cat-like step. He was, evidently, glad of a chance to get +rid of his familiar friend and elector. +</P> + +<P> +I turned my eyes upon the man, and read his face closely. It was +unchanged. The same cold, sinister eye; the same chiselled mouth, so +firm now, and now yielding so elastically; the same smile "from the +teeth outward"—the same lines that revealed his heart's deep, dark +selfishness. If he had indulged in drink during the five intervening +years, it had not corrupted his blood, nor added thereto a single +degree of heat. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you seen anything of Hammond this evening?" asked Judge Lyman. +</P> + +<P> +"I saw him an hour or two ago," answered Green. +</P> + +<P> +"How does he like his new horse?" +</P> + +<P> +"He's delighted with him." +</P> + +<P> +"What was the price?" +</P> + +<P> +"Three hundred dollars." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed!" +</P> + +<P> +The judge had already arisen, and he and Green were now walking side by +side across the bar-room floor. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to speak a word with you," I heard Lyman say. +</P> + +<P> +And then the two went out together. I saw no more of them during the +evening. +</P> + +<P> +Not long afterward, Willy Hammond came in. Ah! there was a sad change +here; a change that in no way belied the words of Matthew the +bar-keeper. He went up to the bar, and I heard him ask for Judge Lyman. +The answer was in so low a voice that it did not reach my ear. +</P> + +<P> +With a quick, nervous motion, Hammond threw his hand toward a row of +decanters on the shelf behind the bar-keeper, who immediately set one +of them containing brandy before him. From this he poured a tumbler +half full, and drank it off at a single draught, unmixed with water. +</P> + +<P> +He then asked some further question, which I could not hear, +manifesting, as it appeared, considerable excitement of mind. In +answering him, Matthew glanced his eyes upward, as if indicating some +room in the house. The young man then retired, hurriedly, through the +sitting-room. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter with Willy Hammond tonight?" asked some one of the +bar-keeper. "Who's he after in such a hurry?" +</P> + +<P> +"He wants to see Judge Lyman," replied Matthew. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" +</P> + +<P> +"I guess they're after no good," was remarked. +</P> + +<P> +"Not much, I'm afraid." +</P> + +<P> +Two young men, well dressed, and with faces marked by intelligence, +came in at the moment, drank at the bar, chatted a little while +familiarly with the bar-keeper, and then quietly disappeared through +the door leading into the sitting-room. I met the eyes of the man with +whom I had talked during the afternoon, and his knowing wink brought to +mind his suggestion, that in one of the upper rooms gambling went on +nightly, and that some of the most promising young men of the town had +been drawn, through the bar attraction, into this vortex of ruin. I +felt a shudder creeping along my nerves. +</P> + +<P> +The conversation that now went on among the company was of such an +obscene and profane character that, in disgust, I went out. The night +was clear, the air soft, and the moon shining down brightly. I walked +for some time in the porch, musing on what I had seen and heard; while +a constant stream of visitors came pouring into the bar-room. Only a +few of these remained. The larger portion went in quickly, took their +glass, and then left, as if to avoid observation as much as possible. +</P> + +<P> +Soon after I commenced walking in the porch, I noticed an elderly lady +go slowly by, who, in passing, slightly paused, and evidently tried to +look through the bar-room door. The pause was but for an instant. In +less than ten minutes she came back, again stopped—this time +longer—and again moved off slowly, until she passed out of sight. I +was yet thinking about her, when, on lifting my eyes from the ground, +she was advancing along the road, but a few rods distant. I almost +started at seeing her, for there no longer remained a doubt on my mind, +that she was some trembling, heartsick woman, in search of an erring +son, whose feet were in dangerous paths. Seeing me, she kept on, though +lingeringly. She went but a short distance before returning; and this +time, she moved in closer to the house, and reached a position that +enabled her eyes to range through a large portion of the bar-room. A +nearer inspection appeared to satisfy her. She retired with quicker +steps; and did not again return during the evening. +</P> + +<P> +Ah! what a commentary upon the uses of an attractive tavern was here! +My heart ached, as I thought of all that unknown mother had suffered, +and was doomed to suffer. I could not shut out the image of her +drooping form as I lay upon my pillow that night; she even haunted me +in my dreams. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE SIXTH. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +MORE CONSEQUENCES. +</H3> + +<P> +The landlord did not make his appearance on the next morning until +nearly ten o'clock; and then he looked like a man who had been on a +debauch. It was eleven before Harvey Green came down. Nothing about him +indicated the smallest deviation from the most orderly habit. Clean +shaved, with fresh linen, and a face, every line of which was smoothed +into calmness, he looked as if he had slept soundly on a quiet +conscience, and now hailed the new day with a tranquil spirit. +</P> + +<P> +The first act of Slade was to go behind the bar and take a stiff glass +of brandy and water; the first act of Green, to order beefsteak and +coffee for his breakfast. I noticed the meeting between the two men, on +the appearance of Green. There was a slight reserve on the part of +Green, and an uneasy embarrassment on the part of Slade. Not even the +ghost of a smile was visible in either countenance. They spoke a few +words together, and then separated as if from a sphere of mutual +repulsion. I did not observe them again in company during the day. +</P> + +<P> +"There's trouble over at the mill," was remarked by a gentleman with +whom I had some business transactions in the afternoon. He spoke to a +person who sat in his office. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! what's the matter?" said the other. +</P> + +<P> +"All the hands were discharged at noon, and the mill shut down." +</P> + +<P> +"How comes that?" +</P> + +<P> +"They've been losing money from the start." +</P> + +<P> +"Rather bad practice, I should say." +</P> + +<P> +"It involves some bad practices, no doubt." +</P> + +<P> +"On Willy's part?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. He is reported to have squandered the means placed in his hands, +after a shameless fashion." +</P> + +<P> +"Is the loss heavy?" +</P> + +<P> +"So it is said." +</P> + +<P> +"How much?" +</P> + +<P> +"Reaching to thirty or forty thousand dollars. But this is rumor, and, +of course, an exaggeration." +</P> + +<P> +"Of course. No such loss as that could have been made. But what was +done with the money? How could Willy have spent it? He dashes about a +great deal; buys fast horses, drinks rather freely, and all that; but +thirty or forty thousand dollars couldn't escape in this way." +</P> + +<P> +At the moment a swift trotting horse, bearing a light sulky and a man, +went by. +</P> + +<P> +"There goes young Hammond's three hundred dollar animal," said the last +speaker. +</P> + +<P> +"It was Willy Hammond's yesterday. But there has been a change of +ownership since then; I happen to know." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. The man Green, who has been loafing about Cedarville for the last +few years—after no good, I can well believe—came into possession +to-day." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! Willy must be very fickle-minded. Does the possession of a coveted +object so soon bring satiety?" +</P> + +<P> +"There is something not clearly understood about the transaction. I saw +Mr. Hammond during the forenoon, and he looked terribly distressed." +</P> + +<P> +"The embarrassed condition of things at the mill readily accounts for +this." +</P> + +<P> +"True; but I think there are causes of trouble beyond the mere +embarrassments." +</P> + +<P> +"The dissolute, spendthrift habits of his son," was suggested. "These +are sufficient to weigh down the father's spirits,—to bow him to the +very dust." +</P> + +<P> +"To speak out plainly," said the other, "I am afraid that the young man +adds another vice to that of drinking and idleness." +</P> + +<P> +"What?" +</P> + +<P> +"Gaining." +</P> + +<P> +"No!" +</P> + +<P> +"There is little doubt of it in my mind. And it is further my opinion, +that his fine horse, for which he paid three hundred dollars only a few +days ago, has passed into the hands of this man Green, in payment of a +debt contracted at the gaming table." +</P> + +<P> +"You shock me. Surely, there can be no grounds for such a belief." +</P> + +<P> +"I have, I am sorry to say, the gravest reasons for what I allege. That +Green is a professional gambler, who was attracted here by the +excellent company that assembled at the 'Sickle and Sheaf' in the +beginning of the lazy miller's pauper-making experiment, I do not in +the least question. Grant this, and take into account the fact that +young Hammond has been much in his company, and you have sufficient +cause for the most disastrous effects." +</P> + +<P> +"If this be really so," observed the gentleman, over whose face a +shadow of concern darkened, "then Willy Hammond may not be his only +victim." +</P> + +<P> +"And is not, you may rest assured. If rumor be true, other of our +promising young men are being drawn into the whirling circles that +narrow toward a vortex of ruin." +</P> + +<P> +In corroboration of this, I mentioned the conversation I had held with +one of the frequenters of Slade's bar room, on this very subject; and +also what I had myself observed on the previous evening. +</P> + +<P> +The man, who had until now been sitting quietly in a chair, started up, +exclaiming as he did so— +</P> + +<P> +"Merciful heaven! I never dreamed of this! Whose sons are safe?" +</P> + +<P> +"No man's," was the answer of the gentleman in whose office we were +sitting—"No man's—while there are such open doors to ruin as you may +find at the 'Sickle and Sheaf.' Did not you vote the anti-temperance +ticket at the last election?" +</P> + +<P> +"I did," was the answer; "and from principle." +</P> + +<P> +"On what were your principles based?" was inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"On the broad foundations of civil liberty." +</P> + +<P> +"The liberty to do good or evil, just as the individual may choose?" +</P> + +<P> +"I would not like to say that. There are certain evils against which +there can be no legislation that would not do harm. No civil power in +this country has the right to say what a citizen shall eat or drink." +</P> + +<P> +"But may not the people, in any community, pass laws, through their +delegated law-makers, restraining evil-minded persons from injuring the +common good?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, certainly—certainly." +</P> + +<P> +"And are you prepared to affirm, that a drinking-shop, where young men +are corrupted, aye, destroyed, body and soul—does not work an injury +to the common good?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! but there must be houses of public entertainment." +</P> + +<P> +"No one denies this. But can that be a really Christian community which +provides for the moral debasement of strangers, at the same time that +it entertains them? Is it necessary that, in giving rest and +entertainment to the traveler, we also lead him into temptation?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes—but—but—it is going too far to legislate on what we are to eat +and drink. It is opening too wide a door for fanatical oppression. We +must inculcate temperance as a right principle. We must teach our +children the evils of intemperance, and send them out into the world as +practical teachers of order, virtue and sobriety. If we do this, the +reform becomes radical, and in a few years there will be no bar-rooms, +for none will crave the fiery poison." +</P> + +<P> +"Of little value, my friend, will be, in far too many cases, your +precepts, if temptation invites our sons at almost every step of their +way through life. Thousands have fallen, and thousands are now +tottering, soon to fall. Your sons are not safe; nor are mine. We +cannot tell the day nor the hour when they may weakly yield to the +solicitation of some companion, and enter the wide open door of ruin. +And are we wise and good citizens to commission men to do the evil work +of enticement—to encourage them to get gain in corrupting and +destroying our children? To hesitate over some vague ideal of human +liberty when the sword is among us, slaying our best and dearest? Sir! +while you hold back from the work of staying the flood that is +desolating our fairest homes, the black waters are approaching your own +doors." +</P> + +<P> +There was a startling emphasis in the tones with which this last +sentence was uttered; and I do not wonder at the look of anxious alarm +that it called to the face of him whose fears it was meant to excite. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean, sir?" was inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"Simply, that your sons are in equal danger with others." +</P> + +<P> +"And is that all?" +</P> + +<P> +"They have been seen, of late, in the bar-room of the 'Sickle and +Sheaf.'" +</P> + +<P> +"Who says so?" +</P> + +<P> +"Twice within a week I have seen them going there," was answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Good heavens! No!" +</P> + +<P> +"It is true, my friend. But who is safe? If we dig pits, and conceal +them from view, what marvel if our own children fall therein?" +</P> + +<P> +"My sons going to a tavern?" The man seemed utterly confounded. "How +CAN I believe it? You must be in error, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"No. What I tell you is the simple truth. And if they go there—" +</P> + +<P> +The man paused not to hear the conclusion of the sentence, but went +hastily from the office. +</P> + +<P> +"We are beginning to reap as we have sown," remarked the gentleman, +turning to me as his agitated friend left the office. "As I told them +in the commencement it would be, so it is happening. The want of a good +tavern in Cedarville was over and over again alleged as one of the +chief causes of our want of thrift, and when Slade opened the 'Sickle +and Sheaf,' the man was almost glorified. The gentleman who has just +left us failed not in laudation of the enterprising landlord; the more +particularly, as the building of the new tavern advanced the price of +ground on the street, and made him a few hundred dollars richer. +Really, for a time, one might have thought, from the way people went +on, that Simon Slade was going to make every man's fortune in +Cedarville. But all that has been gained by a small advance in +property, is as a grain of sand to a mountain, compared with the +fearful demoralization that has followed." +</P> + +<P> +I readily assented to this, for I had myself seen enough to justify the +conclusion. +</P> + +<P> +As I sat in the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf" that evening, I +noticed, soon after the lamps were lighted, the gentleman referred to +in the above conversation, whose sons were represented as visitors to +the bar, come in quietly, and look anxiously about the room. He spoke +to no one, and, after satisfying himself that those he sought were not +there, went out. +</P> + +<P> +"What sent him here, I wonder?" muttered Slade, speaking partly to +himself, and partly aside to Matthew, the bar-keeper. +</P> + +<P> +"After the boys, I suppose," was answered. +</P> + +<P> +"I guess the boys are old enough to take care of themselves." +</P> + +<P> +"They ought to be," returned Matthew. +</P> + +<P> +"And are," said Slade. "Have they been here this evening?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, not yet." +</P> + +<P> +While they yet talked together, two young men whom I had seen on the +night before, and noticed particularly as showing signs of intelligence +and respectability beyond the ordinary visitors at a bar-room, came in. +</P> + +<P> +"John," I heard Slade say, in a low, confidential voice, to one of +them, "your old man was here just now." +</P> + +<P> +"No!" The young man looked startled—almost confounded. +</P> + +<P> +"It's a fact. So you'd better keep shady." +</P> + +<P> +"What did he want?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know." +</P> + +<P> +"What did he say?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing. He just came in, looked around, and then went out." +</P> + +<P> +"His face was as dark as a thunder-cloud," remarked Matthew. +</P> + +<P> +"Is No. 4 vacant?" inquired one of the young men. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Send us up a bottle of wine and some cigars. And when Bill Harding and +Harry Lee come in, tell them where they can find us." +</P> + +<P> +"All right," said Matthew. "And now, take a friend's advice and make +yourselves scarce." +</P> + +<P> +The young men left the room hastily. Scarcely had they departed, ere I +saw the same gentleman come in, whose anxious face had, a little while +before, thrown its shadow over the apartment. He was the father in +search of his sons. Again he glanced around nervously; and this time +appeared to be disappointed. As he entered, Slade went out. +</P> + +<P> +"Have John and Wilson been here this evening?" he asked, coming up to +the bar and addressing Matthew. +</P> + +<P> +"They are not here;" replied Matthew, evasively. +</P> + +<P> +"But haven't they been here?" +</P> + +<P> +"They may have been here; I only came in from my supper a little while +ago." +</P> + +<P> +"I thought I saw them entering, only a moment or two ago." +</P> + +<P> +"They're not here, sir." Matthew shook his head and spoke firmly. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Mr. Slade?" +</P> + +<P> +"In the house, somewhere." +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you would ask him to step here." +</P> + +<P> +Matthew went out, but in a little while came back with word that the +landlord was not to be found. +</P> + +<P> +"You are sure the boys are not here?" said the man, with a doubting, +dissatisfied manner. +</P> + +<P> +"See for yourself, Mr. Harrison!" +</P> + +<P> +"Perhaps they are in the parlor?" +</P> + +<P> +"Step in, sir," coolly returned Matthew. The man went through the door +into the sitting-room, but came back immediately. +</P> + +<P> +"Not there?" said Matthew. The man shook his head. "I don't think +you'll find them about here," added the bar-keeper. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Harrison—this was the name by which Matthew addressed him—stood +musing and irresolute for some minutes. He could not be mistaken about +the entrance of his sons, and yet they were not there. His manner was +much perplexed. At length he took a seat, in a far corner of the +bar-room, somewhat beyond the line of observation, evidently with the +purpose of waiting to see if those he sought would come in. He had not +been there long, before two young men entered, whose appearance at once +excited his interest. They went up to the bar and called for liquor. As +Matthew set the decanter before them, he leaned over the counter, and +said something in a whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"Where?" was instantly ejaculated, in surprise, and both of the young +men glanced uneasily about the room. They met the eyes of Mr. Harrison, +fixed intently upon them. I do not think, from the way they swallowed +their brandy and water, that it was enjoyed very much. +</P> + +<P> +"What the deuce is he doing here?" I heard one of them say, in a low +voice. +</P> + +<P> +"After the boys, of course." +</P> + +<P> +"Have they come yet?" +</P> + +<P> +Matthew winked as he answered, "All safe." +</P> + +<P> +"In No. 4?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. And the wine and cigars all waiting for you." +</P> + +<P> +"Good." +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better not go through the parlor. Their old man's not at all +satisfied. He half suspects they're in the house. Better go off down +the street, and come back and enter through the passage." +</P> + +<P> +The young men, acting on this hint, at once retired, the eyes of +Harrison following them out. +</P> + +<P> +For nearly an hour Mr. Harrison kept his position, a close observer of +all that transpired. I am very much in error, if, before leaving that +sink of iniquity, he was not fully satisfied as to the propriety of +legislating on the liquor question. Nay, I incline to the opinion, +that, if the power of suppression had rested in his hands, there would +not have been, in the whole state, at the expiration of an hour, a +single dram-selling establishment. The goring of his ox had opened his +eyes to the true merits of the question. While he was yet in the +bar-room, young Hammond made his appearance. His look was wild and +excited. First he called for brandy, and drank with the eagerness of a +man long athirst. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Green?" I heard him inquire, as he set his glass upon the +counter. +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't seen anything of him since supper," was answered by Matthew. +</P> + +<P> +"Is he in his room?" +</P> + +<P> +"I think it probable." +</P> + +<P> +"Has Judge Lyman been about here tonight?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. He spouted here for half an hour against the temperance party, as +usual, and then"—Matthew tossed his head toward the door leading to +the sitting-room. +</P> + +<P> +Hammond was moving toward this door, when, in glancing around the room, +he encountered the fixed gaze of Mr. Harrison—a gaze that instantly +checked his progress. Returning to the bar, and leaning over the +counter, he said to Matthew: +</P> + +<P> +"What has sent him here?" +</P> + +<P> +Matthew winked knowingly. +</P> + +<P> +"After the boys?" inquired Hammond. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Where are they?" +</P> + +<P> +"Up-stairs." +</P> + +<P> +"Does he suspect this?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can't tell. If he doesn't think them here now, he is looking for +them to come in." +</P> + +<P> +"Do they know he is after them?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes." +</P> + +<P> +"All safe then?" +</P> + +<P> +"As an iron chest. If you want to see them, just rap at No. 4." +</P> + +<P> +Hammond stood for some minutes leaning on the bar, and then, not once +again looking toward that part of the room where Mr. Harrison was +seated, passed out through the door leading to the street. Soon +afterward Mr. Harrison departed. +</P> + +<P> +Disgusted as on the night before, with the unceasing flow of vile, +obscene, and profane language, I left my place of observation in the +bar-room and sought the open air. The sky was unobscured by a single +cloud, and the moon, almost at the full, shone abroad with more than +common brightness. I had not been sitting long in the porch, when the +same lady, whose movements had attracted my attention, came in sight, +walking very slowly—the deliberate pace assumed, evidently, for the +purpose of better observation. On coming opposite the tavern, she +slightly paused, as on the evening before, and then kept on, passing +down the street until she was beyond observation. +</P> + +<P> +"Poor mother!" I was still repeating to myself, when her form again met +my eyes. Slowly she advanced, and now came in nearer to the house. The +interest excited in my mind was so strong, that I could not repress the +desire I felt to address her, and so stepped from the shadow of the +porch. She seemed startled, and retreated backward several paces. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you in search of any one?" I inquired, respectfully. +</P> + +<P> +The woman now stood in a position that let the moon shine full upon her +face, revealing every feature. She was far past the meridian of life; +and there were lines of suffering and sorrow on her fine countenance. I +saw that her lips moved, but it was some time before I distinguished +the words. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you seen my son to-night? They say he comes here." +</P> + +<P> +The manner in which this was said caused a cold thrill to run over me. +I perceived that the woman's mind wandered. I answered: +</P> + +<P> +"No, ma'am; I haven't seen any thing of him." +</P> + +<P> +My tone of voice seemed to inspire her with confidence, for she came up +close to me, and bent her face toward mine. +</P> + +<P> +"It is a dreadful place," she whispered, huskily. "And they say he +comes here. Poor boy! He isn't what he used to be." +</P> + +<P> +"It is a very bad place," said I. "Come"—and I moved a step or two in +the direction from which I had seen her approaching—"come, you'd +better go away as quickly as possible." +</P> + +<P> +"But if he's here," she answered, not moving from where she stood, "I +might save him, you know." +</P> + +<P> +"I am sure you won't find him, ma'am," I urged. "Perhaps he is home, +now." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no! no!" And she shook her head mournfully. "He never comes home +until long after midnight. I wish I could see inside of the bar-room. +I'm sure he must be there." +</P> + +<P> +"If you will tell me his name, I will go in and search for him." +</P> + +<P> +After a moment of hesitation she answered: +</P> + +<P> +"His name is Willy Hammond." +</P> + +<P> +How the name, uttered so sadly, and yet with such moving tenderness by +the mother's lips, caused me to start—almost to tremble. +</P> + +<P> +"If he is in the house, ma'am," said I, firmly, "I will see him for +you." And I left her and went into the bar. +</P> + +<P> +"In what room do you think I will find young Hammond?" I asked of the +bar-keeper. He looked at me curiously, but did not answer. The question +had come upon him unanticipated. +</P> + +<P> +"In Harvey Green's room?" I pursued. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, I am sure. He isn't in the house to my knowledge. I saw +him go out about half an hour since." +</P> + +<P> +"Green's room is No.——?" +</P> + +<P> +"Eleven," he answered. +</P> + +<P> +"In the front part of the house?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +I asked no further question, but went to No. 11, and tapped on the +door. But no one answered the summons. I listened, but could not +distinguish the slightest sound within. Again I knocked; but louder. If +my ears did not deceive me, the chink of coin was heard. Still there +was neither voice nor movement. +</P> + +<P> +I was disappointed. That the room had inmates, I felt sure. +Remembering, now, what I had heard about light being seen in this room +through a rent in the curtain, I went down-stairs, and out into the +street. A short distance beyond the house, I saw, dimly, the woman's +form. She had only just passed in her movement to and fro. Glancing up +at the window, which I now knew to be the one in Green's room, light +through the torn curtain was plainly visible. Back into the house I +went, and up to No. 11. This time I knocked imperatively; and this time +made myself heard. +</P> + +<P> +"What's wanted?" came from within. I knew the voice to be that of +Harvey Green. +</P> + +<P> +I only knocked louder. A hurried movement and the low murmur of voices +was heard for some moments; then the door was unlocked and held partly +open by Green, whose body so filled the narrow aperture that I could +not look into the room. Seeing me, a dark scowl fell upon his +countenance. +</P> + +<P> +"What d'ye want?" he inquired, sharply. +</P> + +<P> +"Is Mr. Hammond here? If so, he is wanted downstairs." +</P> + +<P> +"No, he's not," was the quick answer. "What sent you here for him, hey?" +</P> + +<P> +"The fact that I expected to find him in your room," was my firm answer. +</P> + +<P> +Green was about shutting the door in my face, when some one placed a +hand on his shoulder, and said something to him that I could not hear. +</P> + +<P> +"Who wants to see him?" he inquired of me. +</P> + +<P> +Satisfied, now, that Hammond was in the room, I said, slightly +elevating my voice: +</P> + +<P> +"His mother." +</P> + +<P> +The words were an "open sesame" to the room. The door was suddenly +jerked open, and with a blanching face, the young man confronted me. +</P> + +<P> +"Who says my mother is down-stairs?" he demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"I come from her in search of you," I said. "You will find her in the +road, walking up and down in front of the tavern." +</P> + +<P> +Almost with a bound he swept by me, and descended the stairway at two +or three long strides. As the door swung open, I saw besides Green and +Hammond, the landlord and Judge Lyman. It needed not the loose cards on +the table near which the latter were sitting to tell me of their +business in that room. +</P> + +<P> +As quickly as seemed decorous, I followed Hammond. On the porch I met +him, coming in from the road. +</P> + +<P> +"You have deceived me, sir," said he, sternly—almost menacingly. +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir!" I replied. "What I told you was but too true. Look! There +she is now." +</P> + +<P> +The young man sprung around, and stood before the woman, a few paces +distant. +</P> + +<P> +"Mother! oh, mother! what HAS brought you here?" he exclaimed, in an +under tone, as he caught her arm, and moved away. He spoke—not +roughly, nor angrily—but with respect—half reproachfulness—and an +unmistakable tenderness. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Willy! Willy!" I heard her answer. "Somebody said you came here at +night, and I couldn't rest. Oh, dear. They'll murder you! I know they +will. Don't, oh!—" +</P> + +<P> +My ears took in the sense no further, though her pleading voice still +reached my ears. A few moments, and they were out of sight. +</P> + +<P> +Nearly two hours afterward, as I was ascending to my chamber, a man +brushed quickly by me. I glanced after him, and recognized the person +of young Hammond. He was going to the room of Harvey Green! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE SEVENTH. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +SOWING THE WIND. +</H3> + +<P> +The state of affairs in Cedarville, it was plain, from the partial +glimpses I had received, was rather desperate. Desperate, I mean, as +regarded the various parties brought before my observation. An eating +cancer was on the community, and so far as the eye could mark its +destructive progress, the ravages were tearful. That its roots were +striking deep, and penetrating, concealed from view, in many +unsuspected directions, there could be no doubt. What appeared on the +surface was but a milder form of the disease, compared with its hidden, +more vital, and more dangerous advances. +</P> + +<P> +I could not but feel a strong interest in some of these parties. The +case of young Hammond had, from the first, awakened concern; and now a +new element was added in the unlooked-for appearance of his mother on +the stage, in a state that seemed one of partial derangement. The +gentleman at whose office I met Mr. Harrison on the day before—the +reader will remember Mr. H. as having come to the "Sickle and Sheath" +in search of his son—was thoroughly conversant with the affairs of the +village, and I called upon him early in the day in order to make some +inquiries about Mrs. Hammond. My first question, as to whether he knew +the lady, was answered by the remark: +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes. She is one of my earliest friends." +</P> + +<P> +The allusion to her did not seem to awaken agreeable states of mind. A +slight shade obscured his face, and I noticed that he sighed +involuntarily. +</P> + +<P> +"Is Willy her only child?" +</P> + +<P> +"Her only living child. She had four; another son, and two daughters; +but she lost all but Willy when they were quite young. And," he added, +after a pause,—"it would have been better for her, and for Willy, too, +if he had gone to a better land with them." +</P> + +<P> +"His course of life must be to her a terrible affliction." said I. +</P> + +<P> +"It is destroying her reason," he replied, with emphasis, "He was her +idol. No mother ever loved a son with more self-devotion than Mrs. +Hammond loved her beautiful, fine-spirited, intelligent, affectionate +boy. To say that she was proud of him, is but a tame expression. +Intense love—almost idolatry—was the strong passion of her heart. How +tender, how watchful was her love! Except when at school, he was +scarcely ever separated from her. In order to keep him by her side, she +gave up her thoughts to the suggestion and maturing of plans for +keeping his mind active and interested in her society—and her success +was perfect. Up to the age of sixteen or seventeen, I do not think he +had a desire for other companionship than that of his mother. But this, +you know, could not last. The boy's maturing thought must go beyond the +home and social circle. The great world, that he was soon to enter, was +before him; and through loopholes that opened here and there he +obtained partial glimpses of what was beyond. To step forth into this +world, where he was soon to be a busy actor and worker, and to step +forth alone, next came in the natural order of progress. How his mother +trembled with anxiety, as she saw him leave her side! Of the dangers +that would surround his path, she knew too well; and these were +magnified by her fears—at least so I often said to her. Alas! how far +the sad reality has outrun her most fearful anticipations. +</P> + +<P> +"When Willy was eighteen—he was then reading law—I think I never saw +a young man of fairer promise. As I have often heard it remarked of +him, he did not appear to have a single fault. But he had a dangerous +gift—rare conversational powers, united with great urbanity of manner. +Every one who made his acquaintance became charmed with his society; +and he soon found himself surrounded by a circle of young men, some of +whom were not the best companions he might have chosen. Still, his own +pure instincts and honorable principles were his safeguard; and I never +have believed that any social allurements would have drawn him away +from the right path, if this accursed tavern had not been opened by +Slade." +</P> + +<P> +"There was a tavern here before the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was opened?" +said I. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes. But it was badly kept, and the bar-room visitors were of the +lowest class. No respectable young man in Cedarville would have been +seen there. It offered no temptations to one moving in Willy's circle. +But the opening of the 'Sickle and Sheaf' formed a new era. Judge +Hammond—himself not the purest man in the world, I'm afraid—gave his +countenance to the establishment, and talked of Simon Slade as an +enterprising man who ought to be encouraged. Judge Lyman and other men +of position in Cedarville followed his bad example; and the bar-room of +the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was at once voted respectable. At all times of +the day and evening you could see the flower of our young men going in +and out, sitting in front of the bar-room, or talking hand-and-glove +with the landlord, who, from a worthy miller, regarded as well enough +in his place, was suddenly elevated into a man of importance, whom the +best in the village were delighted to honor. +</P> + +<P> +"In the beginning, Willy went with the tide, and, in an incredibly +short period, was acquiring a fondness for drink that startled and +alarmed his friends. In going in through Slade's open door, he entered +the downward way, and has been moving onward with fleet footsteps ever +since. The fiery poison inflamed his mind, at the same time that it +dimmed his noble perceptions. Fondness for mere pleasure followed, and +this led him into various sensual indulgences, and exciting modes of +passing the time. Every one liked him—he was so free, so +companionable, and so generous—and almost every one encouraged, rather +than repressed, his dangerous proclivities. Even his father, for a +time, treated the matter lightly, as only the first flush of young +life. 'I commenced sowing my wild oats at quite as early an age,' I +have heard him say. 'He'll cool off, and do well enough. Never fear.' +But his mother was in a state of painful alarm from the beginning. Her +truer instincts, made doubly acute by her yearning love, perceived the +imminent danger, and in all possible ways did she seek to lure him from +the path in which he was moving at so rapid a pace. Willy was always +very much attached to his mother, and her influence over him was +strong; but in this case he regarded her fears as chimerical. The way +in which he walked was, to him, so pleasant, and the companions of his +journey so delightful, that he could not believe in the prophesied +evil; and when his mother talked to him in her warning voice, and with +a sad countenance, he smiled at her concern, and made light of her +fears. +</P> + +<P> +"And so it went on, month after month, and year after year, until the +young man's sad declensions were the town talk. In order to throw his +mind into a new channel—to awaken, if possible, a new and better +interest in life—his father ventured upon the doubtful experiment we +spoke of yesterday; that of placing capital in his hands, and making +him an equal partner in the business of distilling and cotton-spinning. +The disastrous—I might say disgraceful—result you know. The young man +squandered his own capital and heavily embarrassed his father. +</P> + +<P> +"The effect of all this upon Mrs. Hammond has been painful in the +extreme. We can only dimly imagine the terrible suffering through which +she has passed. Her present aberration was first visible after a long +period of sleeplessness, occasioned by distress of mind. During the +whole of two weeks, I am told, she did not close her eyes; the most of +that time walking the floor of her chamber, and weeping. Powerful +anodynes, frequently repeated, at length brought relief. But, when she +awoke from a prolonged period of unconsciousness, the brightness of her +reason was gone. Since then, she has never been clearly conscious of +what was passing around her, and well for her, I have sometimes thought +it was, for even obscurity of intellect is a blessing in her case. Ah, +me! I always get the heart-ache, when I think of her." +</P> + +<P> +"Did not this event startle the young man from his fatal dream, if I +may so call his mad infatuation?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No. He loved his mother, and was deeply afflicted by the calamity; but +it seemed as if he could not stop. Some terrible necessity appeared to +be impelling him onward. If he formed good resolutions—and I doubt not +that he did—they were blown away like threads of gossamer, the moment +he came within the sphere of old associations. His way to the mill was +by the 'Sickle and Sheaf'; and it was not easy for him to pass there +without being drawn into the bar, either by his own desire for drink, +or through the invitation of some pleasant companion, who was lounging +in front of the tavern." +</P> + +<P> +"There may have been something even more impelling than his love of +drink," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"What?" +</P> + +<P> +I related, briefly, the occurrences of the preceding night. +</P> + +<P> +"I feared—nay, I was certain—that he was in the toils of this man! +And yet your confirmation of the fact startles and confounds me," said +he, moving about his office in a disturbed manner. "If my mind has +questioned and doubted in regard to young Hammond, it questions and +doubts no longer. The word 'mystery' is not now written over the door +of his habitation. Great Father! and is it thus that our young men are +led into temptation? Thus that their ruin is premeditated, secured? +Thus that the fowler is permitted to spread his net in the open day, +and the destroyer licensed to work ruin in darkness? It is awful to +contemplate!" The man was strongly excited. +</P> + +<P> +"Thus it is," he continued; "and we who see the whole extent, origin, +and downward rushing force of a widely sweeping desolation, lift our +voices of warning almost in vain. Men who have everything at +stake—sons to be corrupted, and daughters to become the wives of young +men exposed to corrupting influences—stand aloof, questioning and +doubting as to the expediency of protecting the innocent from the +wolfish designs of bad men; who, to compass their own selfish ends, +would destroy them body and soul. We are called fanatics, ultraists, +designing, and all that, because we ask our law-makers to stay the +fiery ruin. Oh, no! we must not touch the traffic. All the dearest and +best interests of society may suffer; but the rum-seller must be +protected. He must be allowed to get gain, if the jails and poorhouses +are filled, and the graveyards made fat with the bodies of young men +stricken down in the flower of their years, and of wives and mothers +who have died of broken hearts. Reform, we are told, must commence at +home. We must rear temperate children, and then we shall have temperate +men. That when there are none to desire liquor, the rum-seller's +traffic will cease. And all the while society's true benefactors are +engaged in doing this, the weak, the unsuspecting, and the erring must +be left an easy prey, even if the work requires for its accomplishment +a hundred years. Sir! a human soul destroyed through the rum-seller's +infernal agency, is a sacrifice priceless in value. No considerations +of worldly gain can, for an instant, be placed in comparison therewith. +And yet souls are destroyed by thousands every year; and they will fall +by tens of thousands ere society awakens from its fatal indifference, +and lays its strong hand of power on the corrupt men who are scattering +disease, ruin, and death, broadcast over the land! +</P> + +<P> +"I always get warm on this subject," he added, repressing his +enthusiasm. "And who that observes and reflects can help growing +excited? The evil is appalling; and the indifference of the community +one of the strangest facts of the day." +</P> + +<P> +While he was yet speaking, the elder Mr. Hammond came in. He looked +wretched. The redness and humidity of his eyes showed want of sleep, +and the relaxed muscles of his face exhaustion from weariness and +suffering. He drew the person with whom I had been talking aside, and +continued an earnest conversation with him for many minutes—often +gesticulating violently. I could see his face, though I heard nothing +of what he said. The play of his features was painful to look upon, for +every changing muscle showed a new phase of mental suffering. +</P> + +<P> +"Try and see him, will you not?" he said, as he turned, at length, to +leave the office. +</P> + +<P> +"I will go there immediately," was answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Bring him home, if possible." +</P> + +<P> +"My very best efforts shall be made." +</P> + +<P> +Judge Hammond bowed and went out hurriedly. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you know the number of the room occupied by the man Green?" asked +the gentleman, as soon as his visitor had retired. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. It is No. 11." +</P> + +<P> +"Willy has not been home since last night. His father, at this late +day, suspects Green to be a gambler. The truth flashed upon him only +yesterday; and this, added to his other sources of trouble, is driving +him, so he says, almost mad. As a friend, he wishes me to go to the +'Sickle and Sheaf,' and try and find Willy. Have you seen any thing of +him this morning?" +</P> + +<P> +I answered in the negative. +</P> + +<P> +"Nor of Green?" +</P> + +<P> +"No." +</P> + +<P> +"Was Slade about when you left the tavern?" +</P> + +<P> +"I saw nothing of him." +</P> + +<P> +"What Judge Hammond fears may be all too true—that, in the present +condition of Willy's affairs, which have reached the point of disaster, +his tempter means to secure the largest possible share of property yet +in his power to pledge or transfer,—to squeeze from his victim the +last drop of blood that remains, and then fling him, ruthlessly, from +his hands." +</P> + +<P> +"The young man must have been rendered almost desperate, or he would +never have returned, as he did, last night. Did you mention this to his +father?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. It would have distressed him the more, without effecting any good. +He is wretched enough. But time passes, and none is to be lost now. +Will you go with me?" +</P> + +<P> +I walked to the tavern with him; and we went into the bar together. Two +or three men were at the counter, drinking. +</P> + +<P> +"Is Mr. Green about this morning?" was asked by the person who had come +in search of young Hammond. +</P> + +<P> +"Haven't seen any thing of him." +</P> + +<P> +"Is he in his room?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you ascertain for me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Certainly. Frank,"—and he spoke to the landlord's son, who was +lounging on a settee,—"I wish you would see if Mr. Green is in his +room." +</P> + +<P> +"Go and see yourself. I'm not your waiter," was growled back, in an +ill-natured voice. +</P> + +<P> +"In a moment I'll ascertain for you," said Matthew, politely. +</P> + +<P> +After waiting on some new customers, who were just entering, Matthew +went up-stairs to obtain the desired information. As he left the +bar-room, Frank got up and went behind the counter, where he mixed +himself a glass of liquor, and drank it off, evidently with real +enjoyment. +</P> + +<P> +"Rather a dangerous business for one so young as you are," remarked the +gentleman with whom I had come, as Frank stepped out of the bar, and +passed near where we were standing. The only answer to this was an +ill-natured frown, and an expression of face which said almost as +plainly as words, "It is none of your business." +</P> + +<P> +"Not there," said Matthew, now coming in. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you certain?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir." +</P> + +<P> +But there was a certain involuntary hesitation in the bar-keeper's +manner, which led to a suspicion that his answer was not in accordance +with the truth. We walked out together, conferring on the subject, and +both concluded that his word was not to be relied upon. +</P> + +<P> +"What is to be done?" was asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Go to Green's room," I replied, "and knock at the door. If he is +there, he may answer, not suspecting your errand." +</P> + +<P> +"Show me the room." +</P> + +<P> +I went up with him, and pointed out No. 11. He knocked lightly, but +there came no sound from within. He repeated the knock; all was silent. +Again and again he knocked, but there came back only a hollow +reverberation. +</P> + +<P> +"There's no one there," said he, returning to where I stood, and we +walked down-stairs together. On the landing, as we reached the lower +passage, we met Mrs. Slade. I had not, during this visit at Cedarville, +stood face to face with her before. Oh! what a wreck she presented, +with her pale, shrunken countenance, hollow, lustreless eyes, and bent, +feeble body. I almost shuddered as I looked at her. What a haunting and +sternly rebuking spectre she must have moved, daily, before the eyes of +her husband. +</P> + +<P> +"Have you noticed Mr. Green about this morning?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"He hasn't come down from his room yet," she replied. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you certain?" said my companion. "I knocked several times at the +door just now, but received no answer." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you want with him?" asked Mrs. Slade, fixing her eyes upon us. +</P> + +<P> +"We are in search of Willy Hammond; and it has been suggested that he +was with Green." +</P> + +<P> +"Knock twice lightly, and then three times more firmly," said Mrs. +Slade; and as she spoke, she glided past us with noiseless tread. +</P> + +<P> +"Shall we go up together?" +</P> + +<P> +I did not object; for, although I had no delegated right of intrusion, +my feelings were so much excited in the case, that I went forward, +scarcely reflecting on the propriety of so doing. +</P> + +<P> +The signal knock found instant answer. The door was softly opened, and +the unshaven face of Simon Slade presented itself. +</P> + +<P> +"Mr. Jacobs!" he said, with surprise in his tones. "Do you wish to see +me?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir; I wish to see Mr. Green," and with a quick, firm pressure +against the door, he pushed it wide open. The same party was there that +I had seen on the night before,—Green, young Hammond, Judge Lyman, and +Slade. On the table at which the three former were sitting, were cards, +slips of paper, an ink-stand and pens, and a pile of bank-notes. On a +side-table, or, rather, butler's tray, were bottles, decanters, and +glasses. +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Lyman! Is it possible?" exclaimed Mr. Jacobs, the name of my +companion. "I did not expect to find you here." +</P> + +<P> +Green instantly swept his hands over the table to secure the money and +bills it contained; but, ere he had accomplished his purpose, young +Hammond grappled three or four narrow strips of paper, and hastily tore +them into shreds. +</P> + +<P> +"You're a cheating scoundrel!" cried Green, fiercely, thrusting his +hand into his bosom as if to draw from thence a weapon; but the words +were scarcely uttered, ere Hammond sprung upon him with the fierceness +of a tiger, bearing him down upon the floor. Both hands were already +about the gambler's neck, and, ere the bewildered spectators could +interfere, and drag him off. Green was purple in the face, and nearly +strangled. +</P> + +<P> +"Call me a cheating scoundrel!" said Hammond, foaming at the mouth, as +he spoke,—"Me, whom you have followed like a thirsty blood-hound. Me! +whom you have robbed, and cheated, and debased from the beginning! Oh! +for a pistol to rid the earth of the blackest-hearted villain that +walks its surface. Let me go, gentlemen! I have nothing left in the +world to care for,—there is no consequence I fear. Let me do society +one good service before I die!" +</P> + +<P> +And, with one vigorous effort, he swept himself clear of the hands that +were pinioning him, and sprung again upon the gambler with the fierce +energy of a savage beast. By this time, Green had got his knife free +from its sheath, and, as Hammond was closing upon him in his blind +rage, plunged it into his side. Quick almost as lightning, the knife +was withdrawn, and two more stabs inflicted ere we could seize and +disarm the murderer. As we did so, Willy Hammond fell over with a deep +groan, the blood flowing from his side. +</P> + +<P> +In the terror and excitement that followed, Green rushed from the room. +The doctor, who was instantly summoned, after carefully examining the +wound, and the condition of the unhappy young man, gave it as his +opinion that he was fatally injured. +</P> + +<P> +Oh! the anguish of the father, who had quickly heard of the dreadful +occurrence, when this announcement was made. I never saw such fearful +agony in any human countenance. The calmest of all the anxious group +was Willy himself. On his father's face his eyes were fixed as if by a +kind of fascination. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you in much pain, my poor boy!" sobbed the old man, stooping over +him, until his long white hair mingled with the damp locks of the +sufferer. +</P> + +<P> +"Not much, father," was the whispered reply. "Don't speak of this to +mother, yet. I'm afraid it will kill her." +</P> + +<P> +What could the father answer? Nothing! And he was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"Does she know of it?" A shadow went over his face. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Hammond shook his head. +</P> + +<P> +Yet, even as he spoke, a wild cry of distress was heard below. Some +indiscreet person had borne to the ears of the mother the fearful news +about her son, and she had come wildly flying toward the tavern, and +was just entering. +</P> + +<P> +"It is my poor mother," said Willy, a flush coming into his pale face. +"Who could have told her of this?" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Hammond started for the door, but ere he had reached it, the +distracted mother entered. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! Willy, my boy! my boy!" she exclaimed, in tones of anguish that +made the heart shudder. And she crouched down on the floor, the moment +she reached the bed whereon he lay, and pressed her lips—oh, so +tenderly and lovingly!—to his. +</P> + +<P> +"Dear mother! Sweet mother! Best of mothers!" He even smiled as he said +this; and, into the face now bent over him, looked up with glances of +unutterable fondness. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, Willy! Willy! Willy! my son, my son!" And again her lips were laid +closely to his. +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Hammond now interfered, and endeavored to remove his wife, fearing +for the consequence upon his son. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't, father!" said Willy; "let her remain. I am not excited nor +disturbed. I am glad that she is here, now. It will be best for us +both." +</P> + +<P> +"You must not excite him, dear," said Mr. Hammond—"he is very weak." +</P> + +<P> +"I'll not excite him," answered the mother. "I'll not speak a word. +There, love"—and she laid her fingers softly upon the lips of her +son—"don't speak a single word." +</P> + +<P> +For only a few moments did she sit with the quiet formality of a nurse, +who feels how much depends on the repose of her patient. Then she began +weeping, moaning, and wringing her hands. +</P> + +<P> +"Mother!" The feeble voice of Willy stilled, instantly, the tempest of +feeling. "Mother, kiss me!" +</P> + +<P> +She bent down and kissed him. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you there, mother?" His eyes moved about, with a straining motion. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, love, here I am." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't see you, mother. It's getting so dark. Oh, mother! mother!" he +shouted suddenly, starting up and throwing himself forward upon her +bosom—"save me! save me!" +</P> + +<P> +How quickly did the mother clasp her arms around him—how eagerly did +she strain him to her bosom! The doctor, fearing the worst +consequences, now came forward, and endeavored to release the arms of +Mrs. Hammond, but she resisted every attempt to do so. +</P> + +<P> +"I will save you, my son," she murmured in the ear of the young man. +"Your mother will protect you. Oh! if you had never left her side, +nothing on earth could have done you harm." +</P> + +<P> +"He is dead!" I heard the doctor whisper; and a thrill of horror went +through me. The words reached the ears of Mr. Hammond, and his groan +was one of almost mortal agony. +</P> + +<P> +"Who says he is dead?" came sharply from the lips of the mother, as she +pressed the form of her child back upon the bed from which he had +sprung to her arms, and looked wildly upon his face. One long scream of +horror told of her convictions, and she fell, lifeless, across the body +of her dead son! +</P> + +<P> +All in the room believed that Mrs. Hammond had only fainted. But the +doctor's perplexed, troubled countenance, as he ordered her carried +into another apartment, and the ghastliness of her face when it was +upturned to the light, suggested to every one what proved to be true. +Even to her obscured perceptions, the consciousness that her son was +dead came with a terrible vividness—so terrible, that it extinguished +her life. +</P> + +<P> +Like fire among dry stubble ran the news of this fearful event through +Cedarville. The whole town was wild with excitement. The prominent +fact, that Willy Hammond had been murdered by Green, whose real +profession was known by many, and now declared to all, was on every +tongue; but a hundred different and exaggerated stories as to the cause +and the particulars of the event were in circulation. By the time +preparations to remove the dead bodies of mother and son from the +"Sickle and Sheaf" to the residence of Mr. Hammond were completed, +hundreds of people, men, women, and children, were assembled around the +tavern and many voices were clamorous for Green; while some called out +for Judge Lyman, whose name, it thus appeared, had become associated in +the minds of the people with the murderous affair. The appearance, in +the midst of this excitement, of the two dead bodies, borne forth on +settees, did not tend to allay the feverish state of indignation that +prevailed. From more than one voice, I heard the words, "Lynch the +scoundrel!" +</P> + +<P> +A part of the crowd followed the sad procession, while the greater +portion, consisting of men, remained about the tavern. All bodies, no +matter for what purpose assembled, quickly find leading spirits who, +feeling the great moving impulse, give it voice and direction. It was +so in this case. Intense indignation against Green was firing every +bosom; and when a man elevated himself a few feet above the agitated +mass of humanity, and cried out: +</P> + +<P> +"The murderer must not escape!" +</P> + +<P> +A wild responding shout, terrible in its fierceness, made the air +quiver. +</P> + +<P> +"Let ten men be chosen to search the house and premises," said the +leading spirit. +</P> + +<P> +"Ay! ay! Choose them! Name them!" was quickly answered. +</P> + +<P> +Ten men were called by name, who instantly stepped in front of the +crowd. +</P> + +<P> +"Search everywhere; from garret to cellar; from hayloft to dog-kennel. +Everywhere! everywhere!" cried the man. +</P> + +<P> +And instantly the ten men entered the house. For nearly a quarter of an +hour, the crowd waited with increasing signs of impatience. These +delegates at length appeared, with the announcement that Green was +nowhere about the premises. It was received with a groan. +</P> + +<P> +"Let no man in Cedarville do a stroke of work until the murderer is +found," now shouted the individual who still occupied his elevated +position. +</P> + +<P> +"Agreed! agreed! No work in Cedarville until the murderer is found," +rang out fiercely. +</P> + +<P> +"Let all who have horses saddle and bridle them as quickly as possible, +and assemble, mounted, at the Court House." +</P> + +<P> +About fifty men left the crowd hastily. +</P> + +<P> +"Let the crowd part in the centre, up and down the road, starting from +a line in front of me." +</P> + +<P> +This order was obeyed. +</P> + +<P> +"Separate again, taking the centre of the road for a line." +</P> + +<P> +Four distinct bodies of men stood now in front of the tavern. +</P> + +<P> +"Now search for the murderer in every nook and corner, for a distance +of three miles from this spot; each party keeping to its own section; +the road being one dividing line, and a line through the centre of this +tavern the other. The horsemen will pursue the wretch to a greater +distance." +</P> + +<P> +More than a hundred acquiescing voices responded to this, as the man +sprung down from his elevation and mingled with the crowd, which began +instantly to move away on its appointed mission. +</P> + +<P> +As the hours went by, one, and another, and another, of the searching +party returned to the village, wearied with their efforts, or confident +that the murderer had made good his escape. The horsemen, too, began to +come in, during the afternoon, and by sundown, the last of them, worn +out and disappointed, made their appearance. +</P> + +<P> +For hours after the exciting events of the forenoon, there were but few +visitors at the "Sickle and Sheaf." Slade, who did not show himself +among the crowd, came down soon after its dispersion. He had shaved and +put on clean linen; but still bore many evidences of a night spent +without sleep. His eyes were red and heavy and the eyelids swollen; +while his skin was relaxed and colorless. As he descended the stairs, I +was walking in the passage. He looked shy at me, and merely nodded. +Guilt was written plainly on his countenance; and with it was blended +anxiety and alarm. That he might be involved in trouble, he had reason +to fear; for he was one of the party engaged in gambling in Green's +room, as both Mr. Jacobs and I had witnessed. +</P> + +<P> +"This is dreadful business," said he, as we met, face to face, half an +hour afterward. He did not look me steadily in the eyes. +</P> + +<P> +"It is horrible!" I answered. "To corrupt and ruin a young man, and +then murder him! There are few deeds in the catalogue of crime blacker +than this!" +</P> + +<P> +"It was done in the heat of passion," said the landlord, with something +of an apology in his manner. "Green never meant to kill him." +</P> + +<P> +"In peaceful intercourse with his fellow-men, why did he carry a deadly +weapon? There was murder in his heart, sir." +</P> + +<P> +"That is speaking very strongly." +</P> + +<P> +"Not stronger than the facts will warrant," I replied. "That Green is a +murderer in heart, it needed not this awful consummation to show. With +a cool, deliberate purpose, he has sought, from the beginning, to +destroy young Hammond." +</P> + +<P> +"It is hardly fair," answered Slade, "in the present feverish +excitement against Green, to assume such a questionable position. It +may do him a great wrong." +</P> + +<P> +"Did Willy Hammond speak only idle words, when he accused Green of +having followed him like a thirsty bloodhound?—of having robbed, and +cheated, and debased him from the beginning?" +</P> + +<P> +"He was terribly excited at the moment." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes," said I, "no ear that heard his words could for an instant doubt +that they were truthful utterances, wrung from a maddened heart." +</P> + +<P> +My earnest, positive manner had its effect upon Slade. He knew that +what I asserted, the whole history of Green's intercourse with young +Hammond would prove; and he had, moreover, the guilty consciousness of +being a party to the young man's ruin. His eyes cowered beneath the +steady gaze I fixed upon him. I thought of him as one implicated in the +murder, and my thoughts must have been visible in my face. +</P> + +<P> +"One murder will not justify another," said he. +</P> + +<P> +"There is no justification for murder on any plea," was my response. +</P> + +<P> +"And yet, if these infuriated men find Green, they will murder him." +</P> + +<P> +"I hope not. Indignation at a horrible crime has fearfully excited the +people. But I think their sense of justice is strong enough to prevent +the consequences you apprehend." +</P> + +<P> +"I would not like to be in Green's shoes," said the landlord, with an +uneasy movement. +</P> + +<P> +I looked him closely in the face. It was the punishment of the man's +crime that seemed so fearful in his eyes; not the crime itself. Alas! +how the corrupting traffic had debased him. +</P> + +<P> +My words were so little relished by Slade, that he found some ready +excuse to leave me. I saw little more of him during the day. +</P> + +<P> +As evening began to fall, the gambler's unsuccessful pursuers, one +after another, found their way to the tavern, and by the time night had +fairly closed in, the bar-room was crowded with excited and angry men, +chafing over their disappointment, and loud in their threats of +vengeance. That Green had made good his escape, was now the general +belief; and the stronger this conviction became, the more steadily did +the current of passion begin to set in a new direction. It had become +known to every one that, besides Green and young Hammond, Judge Lyman +and Slade were in the room engaged in playing cards. The merest +suggestion as to the complicity of these two men with Green in ruining +Hammond, and thus driving him mad, was enough to excite strong feelings +against them; and now that the mob had been cheated out of its victim, +its pent-up indignation sought eagerly some new channel. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Slade?" some one asked, in a loud voice, from the centre of +the crowded bar-room. "Why does he keep himself out of sight?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; where's the landlord?" half a dozen voices responded. +</P> + +<P> +"Did he go on the hunt?" some one inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" "No!" "No!" ran around the room. "Not he." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet, the murder was committed in his own house, and before his own +eyes!" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, before his own eyes!" repeated one and another, indignantly. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's Slade? Where's the landlord? Has anybody seen him tonight? +Matthew, where's Simon Slade?" +</P> + +<P> +From lip to lip passed these interrogations; while the crowd of men +became agitated, and swayed to and fro. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't think he's home," answered the bar-keeper, in a hesitating +manner, and with visible alarm. +</P> + +<P> +"How long since he was here?" +</P> + +<P> +"I haven't seen him for a couple of hours." +</P> + +<P> +"That's a lie!" was sharply said. +</P> + +<P> +"Who says it's a lie?" Matthew affected to be strongly indignant. +</P> + +<P> +"I do!" And a rough, fierce-looking man confronted him. +</P> + +<P> +"What right have you to say so?" asked Matthew, cooling off +considerably. +</P> + +<P> +"Because you lie!" said the man, boldly. "You've seen him within a less +time than half an hour, and well you know it. Now, if you wish to keep +yourself out of this trouble, answer truly. We are in no mood to deal +with liars or equivocators. Where is Simon Slade?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know," replied Matthew, firmly. +</P> + +<P> +"Is he in the house?" +</P> + +<P> +"He may be, or he may not be. I am just as ignorant of his exact +whereabouts as you are." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you look for him?" +</P> + +<P> +Matthew stepped to the door, opening from behind the bar, and called +the name of Frank. +</P> + +<P> +"What's wanted?" growled the boy. +</P> + +<P> +"Is your father in the house?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, nor don't care," was responded in the same ungracious +manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Someone bring him into the bar-room, and we'll see if we can't make +him care a little." +</P> + +<P> +The suggestion was no sooner made, than two men glided behind the bar, +and passed into the room from whence the voice of Frank had issued. A +moment after they reappeared, each grasping an arm of the boy, and +bearing him like a weak child between them. He looked thoroughly +frightened at this unlooked-for invasion of his liberty. +</P> + +<P> +"See here, young man." One of the leading spirits of the crowd +addressed him, as soon as he was brought in front of the counter. "If +you wish to keep out of trouble, answer our questions at once, and to +the point. We are in no mood for trifling. Where's your father?" +</P> + +<P> +"Somewhere about the house, I believe," Frank replied, in an humble +tone. He was no little scared at the summary manner with which he had +been treated. +</P> + +<P> +"How long since you saw him?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not long ago." +</P> + +<P> +"Ten minutes." +</P> + +<P> +"No; nearly half an hour." +</P> + +<P> +"Where was he then?" +</P> + +<P> +"He was going up-stairs." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, we want him. See him, and tell him so." +</P> + +<P> +Frank went into the house, but came back into the bar-room after an +absence of nearly five minutes, and said that he could not find his +father anywhere. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is he then?" was angrily demanded. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed, gentlemen, I don't know." Frank's anxious look and frightened +manner showed that he spoke truly. +</P> + +<P> +"There's something wrong about this—something wrong—wrong," said one +of the men. "Why should he be absent now? Why has he taken no steps to +secure the man who committed a murder in his own house, and before his +own eyes? +</P> + +<P> +"I shouldn't wonder if he aided him to escape," said another, making +this serious charge with a restlessness and want of evidence that +illustrated the reckless and unjust spirit by which the mob is ever +governed. +</P> + +<P> +"No doubt of it in the least!" was the quick and positive response. And +at once this erroneous conviction seized upon every one. Not a single +fact was presented. The simple, bold assertion, that no doubt existed +in the mind of one man as to Slade's having aided Green to escape, was +sufficient for the unreflecting mob. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is he? Where is he? Let us find him. He knows where Green is, +and he shall reveal the secret." +</P> + +<P> +This was enough. The passions of the crowd were at fever heat again. +Two or three men were chosen to search the house and premises, while +others dispersed to take a wider range. One of the men who volunteered +to go over the house was a person named Lyon, with whom I had formed +some acquaintance, and several times conversed with on the state of +affairs in Cedarville. He still remained too good a customer at the +bar. I left the bar at the same time that he did, and went up to my +room. We walked side by side, and parted at my door, I going in, and he +continuing on to make his searches. I felt, of course, anxious and much +excited, as well in consequence of the events of the day, as the +present aspect of things. My head was aching violently, and in the hope +of getting relief, I laid myself down. I had already lighted a candle, +and turned the key in my door to prevent intrusion. Only for a short +time did I lie, listening to the hum of voices that came with a hoarse +murmur from below, to the sound of feet moving along the passages, and +to the continual opening and shutting of doors, when something like +suppressed breathing reached my ears, I started up instantly, and +listened; but my quickened pulses were now audible to my own sense, and +obscured what was external. +</P> + +<P> +"It is only imagination," I said to myself. Still, I sat upright, +listening. +</P> + +<P> +Satisfied, at length, that all was mere fancy, I laid myself back on +the pillow, and tried to turn my thoughts away from the suggested idea +that some one was in the room. Scarcely had I succeeded in this, when +my heart gave a new impulse, as a sound like a movement fell upon my +ears. +</P> + +<P> +"Mere fancy!" I said to myself, as some one went past the door at the +moment. "My mind is overexcited." +</P> + +<P> +Still I raised my head, supporting it with my hand, and listened, +directing my attention inside, and not outside of the room. I was about +letting my head fall back upon the pillow, when a slight cough, so +distinct as not to be mistaken, caused me to spring to the floor, and +look under the bed. The mystery was explained. A pair of eyes glittered +in the candlelight. The fugitive, Green, was under my bed. For some +moments I stood looking at him, so astonished that I had neither +utterance nor decision; while he glared at me with a fierce defiance. I +saw that he was clutching a revolver. +</P> + +<P> +"Understand!" he said, in a grating whisper, "that I am not to be taken +alive." +</P> + +<P> +I let the blanket, which had concealed him from view, fall from my +hand, and then tried to collect my thoughts. +</P> + +<P> +"Escape is impossible," said I, again lifting the temporary curtain by +which he was hid. "The whole town is armed, and on the search; and +should you fall into the hands of the mob, in its present state of +exasperation, your life would not be safe an instant. Remain, then, +quiet, where you are, until I can see the sheriff, to whom you had +better resign yourself, for there's little chance for you except under +his protection." +</P> + +<P> +After a brief parley he consented that things should take this course, +and I went out, locking the room door after me, and started in search +of the sheriff. On the information I gave, the sheriff acted promptly. +With five officers, fully armed for defence, in case an effort were +made to get the prisoner out of their hands, he repaired immediately to +the "Sickle and Sheaf." I had given the key of my room into his +possession. +</P> + +<P> +The appearance of the sheriff, with his posse, was sufficient to start +the suggestion that Green was somewhere concealed in the house; and a +suggestion was only needed to cause the fact to be assumed, and +unhesitatingly declared. Intelligence went through the reassembling +crowd like an electric current, and ere the sheriff could manacle and +lead forth his prisoner, the stairway down which he had to come was +packed with bodies, and echoing with oaths and maledictions. +</P> + +<P> +"Gentlemen, clear the way!" cried the sheriff, as he appeared with the +white and trembling culprit at the head of the stairs. "The murderer is +now in the hands of the law, and will meet the sure consequences of his +crime." +</P> + +<P> +A shout of execration rent the air; but not a single individual stirred. +</P> + +<P> +"Give way, there! Give way!" And the sheriff took a step or two +forward, but the prisoner held back. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, the murdering villain! The cursed blackleg! Where's Willy +Hammond?" was heard distinctly above the confused mingling of voices. +</P> + +<P> +"Gentlemen! the law must have its course; and no good citizen will +oppose the law. It is made for your protection—for mine—and for that +of the prisoner." +</P> + +<P> +"Lynch law is good enough for him," shouted a savage voice. "Hand him +over to us, sheriff, and we'll save you the trouble of hanging him, and +the county the cost of the gallows. We'll do the business right." +</P> + +<P> +Five men, each armed with a revolver, now ranged themselves around the +sheriff, and the latter said firmly: +</P> + +<P> +"It is my duty to see this man safely conveyed to prison; and I'm going +to do my duty. If there is any more blood shed here, the blame will +rest with you." And the body of officers pressed forward, the mob +slowly retreating before them. +</P> + +<P> +Green, overwhelmed with terror, held back. I was standing where I could +see his face. It was ghastly with mortal fear. Grasping his pinioned +arms, the sheriff forced him onward. After contending with the crowd +for nearly ten minutes, the officers gained the passage below; but the +mob was denser here, and blocking up the door, resolutely maintained +their position. +</P> + +<P> +Again and again the sheriff appealed to the good sense and justice of +the people. +</P> + +<P> +"The prisoner will have to stand a trial and the law will execute sure +vengeance." +</P> + +<P> +"No, it won't!" was sternly responded. +</P> + +<P> +"Who'll be judge in the case?" was asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Judge Lyman!" was contemptuously answered. +</P> + +<P> +"A blackleg himself!" was shouted by two or three voices. +</P> + +<P> +"Blackleg judge, and blackleg lawyers! Oh, yes! The law will execute +sure vengeance! Who was in the room gambling with Green and Hammond?" +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Lyman!" "Judge Lyman!" was answered back. +</P> + +<P> +"It won't do, sheriff! There's no law in the country to reach the case +but Lynch law; and that the scoundrel must have. Give him to us!" +</P> + +<P> +"Never! On, men, with the prisoner!" cried the sheriff resolutely, and +the posse made a rush toward the door, bearing back the resisting and +now infuriated crowd. Shouts, cries, oaths, and savage imprecations +blended in wild discord; in the midst of which my blood was chilled by +the sharp crack of a pistol. Another and another shot followed; and +then, as a cry of pain thrilled the air, the fierce storm hushed its +fury in an instant. +</P> + +<P> +"Who's shot? Is he killed?" +</P> + +<P> +There was a breathless eagerness for the answer. +</P> + +<P> +"It's the gambler!" was replied. "Somebody has shot Green." +</P> + +<P> +A low muttered invective against the victim was heard here and there; +but the announcement was not received with a shout of exultation, +though there was scarcely a heart that did not feel pleasure at the +sacrifice of Harvey Green's life. +</P> + +<P> +It was true as had been declared. Whether the shot were aimed +deliberately, or guided by an unseen hand to the heart of the gambler, +was never known; nor did the most careful examination, instituted +afterward by the county, elicit any information that even directed +suspicion toward the individual who became the agent of his death. +</P> + +<P> +At the coroner's inquest, held over the dead body of Harvey Green, +Simon Slade was present. Where he had concealed himself while the mob +were in search of him, was not known. He looked haggard; and his eyes +were anxious and restless. Two murders in his house, occurring in a +single day, were quite enough to darken his spirits; and the more so, +as his relations with both the victims were not of a character to +awaken any thing but self-accusation. +</P> + +<P> +As for the mob, in the death of Green its eager thirst for vengeance +was satisfied. Nothing more was said against Slade, as a participator +in the ruin and death of young Hammond. The popular feeling was one of +pity rather than indignation toward the landlord; for it was seen that +he was deeply troubled. +</P> + +<P> +One thing I noticed, and it was that the drinking at the bar was not +suspended for a moment. A large proportion of those who made up the +crowd of Green's angry pursuers were excited by drink as well as +indignation, and I am very sure that, but for the maddening effects of +liquor, the fatal shot would never have been fired. After the fearful +catastrophe, and when every mind was sobered, or ought to have been +sobered, the crowd returned to the bar-room, where the drinking was +renewed. So rapid were the calls for liquor, that both Matthew and +Frank, the landlord's son, were kept busy mixing the various compounds +demanded by the thirsty customers. +</P> + +<P> +From the constant stream of human beings that flowed toward the "Sickle +and Sheaf," after the news of Green's discovery and death went forth, +it seemed as if every man and boy within a distance of two or three +miles had received intelligence of the event. Few, very, of those who +came, but went first into the bar-room; and nearly all who entered the +bar-room called for liquor. In an hour after the death of Green, the +fact that his dead body was laid out in the room immediately adjoining, +seemed utterly to pass from the consciousness of every one in the bar. +The calls for liquor were incessant; and, as the excitement of drink +increased, voices grew louder, and oaths more plentiful, while the +sounds of laughter ceased not for an instant. +</P> + +<P> +"They're giving him a regular Irish wake," I heard remarked, with a +brutal laugh. +</P> + +<P> +I turned to the speaker, and, to my great surprise, saw that it was +Judge Lyman, more under the influence of drink than I remembered to +have seen him. He was about the last man I expected to find here. If he +knew of the strong indignation expressed toward him a little while +before, by some of the very men now excited with liquor, his own free +drinking had extinguished fear. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, curse him!" was the answer. "If they have a particularly hot +corner 'away down below,' I hope he's made its acquaintance before +this." +</P> + +<P> +"Most likely he's smelled brimstone," chuckled the judge. +</P> + +<P> +"Smelled it! If old Clubfoot hasn't treated him with a brimstone-bath +long before this, he hasn't done his duty. If I thought as much, I'd +vote for sending his majesty a remonstrance forthwith." +</P> + +<P> +"Ha! ha!" laughed the judge. "You're warm on the subject." +</P> + +<P> +"Ain't I? The blackleg scoundrel! Hell's too good for him." +</P> + +<P> +"H-u-s-h! Don't let your indignation run into profanity," said Judge +Lyman, trying to assume a serious air; but the muscles of his face but +feebly obeyed his will's feeble effort. +</P> + +<P> +"Profanity! Poh! I don't call that profanity. It's only speaking out in +meeting, as they say,—it's only calling black, black—and white, +white. You believe in a hell, don't you, judge?" +</P> + +<P> +"I suppose there is one; though I don't know very certain." +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better be certain!" said the other, meaningly. +</P> + +<P> +"Why so?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! because if there is one, and you don't cut your cards a little +differently, you'll be apt to find it at the end of your journey." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean by that?" asked the judge, retreating somewhat into +himself, and trying to look dignified. +</P> + +<P> +"Just what I say," was unhesitatingly answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean to insinuate any thing?" asked the judge, whose brows were +beginning to knit themselves. +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody thinks you a saint," replied the man, roughly. +</P> + +<P> +"I never professed to be." +</P> + +<P> +"And it is said"—the man fixed his gaze almost insultingly upon Judge +Lyman's face—"that you'll get about as hot a corner in the lower +regions as is to be found there, whenever you make the journey in that +direction." +</P> + +<P> +"You are insolent!" exclaimed the judge, his face becoming inflamed. +</P> + +<P> +"Take care what you say, sir!" The man spoke threateningly. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better take care what YOU say." +</P> + +<P> +"So I will," replied the other. "But—" +</P> + +<P> +"What's to pay here?" inquired a third party, coming up at the moment, +and interrupting the speaker. +</P> + +<P> +"The devil will be to pay," said Judge Lyman, "if somebody don't look +out sharp." +</P> + +<P> +"Do you mean that for me, ha?" The man, between whom and himself this +slight contention had so quickly sprung up, began stripping back his +coat sleeves, like one about to commence boxing. +</P> + +<P> +"I mean it for anybody who presumes to offer me an insult." +</P> + +<P> +The raised voices of the two men now drew toward them the attention of +every one in the bar-room. +</P> + +<P> +"The devil! There's Judge Lyman!" I heard some one exclaim, in a tone +of surprise. +</P> + +<P> +"Wasn't he in the room with Green when Willy Hammond was murdered?" +asked another. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, he was; and what's more, it is said he had been playing against +him all night, he and Green sharing the plunder." +</P> + +<P> +This last remark came distinctly to the ears of Lyman, who started to +his feet instantly, exclaiming fiercely: +</P> + +<P> +"Whoever says that is a cursed liar!" +</P> + +<P> +The words were scarcely out of his mouth, before a blow staggered him +against the wall, near which he was standing. Another blow felled him, +and then his assailant sprang over his prostrate body, kicking him, and +stamping upon his face and breast in the most brutal, shocking manner. +</P> + +<P> +"Kill him! He's worse than Green!" somebody cried out, in a voice so +full of cruelty and murder that it made my blood curdle. "Remember +Willy Hammond!" +</P> + +<P> +The terrible scene that followed, in which were heard a confused +mingling of blows, cries, yells, and horrible oaths, continued for +several minutes, and ceased only when the words—"Don't, don't strike +him any more! He's dead!" were repeated several times. Then the wild +strife subsided. As the crowd parted from around the body of Judge +Lyman, and gave way, I caught a single glance at his face. It was +covered with blood, and every feature seemed to have been literally +trampled down, until all was a level surface! Sickened at the sight, I +passed hastily from the room into the open air, and caught my breath +several times, before respiration again went on freely. As I stood in +front of the tavern, the body of Judge Lyman was borne out by three or +four men, and carried off in the direction of his dwelling. +</P> + +<P> +"Is he dead?" I inquired of those who had him in charge. +</P> + +<P> +"No," was the answer. "He's not dead, but terribly beaten," and they +passed on. +</P> + +<P> +Again the loud voices of men in angry strife arose in the bar-room. I +did not return there to learn the cause, or to witness the fiend-like +conduct of the men, all whose worst passions were stimulated by drink +into the wildest fervor. As I was entering my room, the thought flashed +through my mind that, as Green was found there, it needed only the bare +suggestion that I had aided in his concealment, to direct toward me the +insane fury of the drunken mob. +</P> + +<P> +"It is not safe to remain here." I said this to myself, with the +emphasis of a strong internal conviction. +</P> + +<P> +Against this, my mind opposed a few feeble arguments; but the more I +thought of the matter, the more clearly did I become satisfied, that to +attempt to pass the night in that room was to me a risk it was not +prudent to assume. +</P> + +<P> +So I went in search of Mrs. Slade, to ask her to have another room +prepared for me. But she was not in the house; and I learned, upon +inquiry, that since the murder of young Hammond, she had been suffering +from repeated hysterical and fainting fits, and was now, with her +daughter, at the house of a relative, whither she had been carried +early in the afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +It was on my lip to request the chambermaid to give me another room; +but this I felt to be scarcely prudent, for if the popular indignation +should happen to turn toward me, the servant would be the one +questioned, most likely, as to where I had removed my quarters. +</P> + +<P> +"It isn't safe to stay in the house," said I, speaking to myself. "Two, +perhaps three, murders have been committed already. The tiger's thirst +for blood has been stimulated, and who can tell how quickly he may +spring again, or in what direction?" +</P> + +<P> +Even while I said this, there came up from the bar-room louder and +madder shouts. Then blows were heard, mingled with cries and oaths. A +shuddering sense of danger oppressed me, and I went hastily +down-stairs, and out into the street. As I gained the passage, I looked +into the sitting-room, where the body of Green was laid out. Just then, +the bar-room door was burst open by a fighting party, who had been +thrown, in their fierce contention, against it. I paused only for a +moment or two; and even in that brief period of time, saw blows +exchanged over the dead body of the gambler! +</P> + +<P> +"This is no place for me," I said, almost aloud, and hurried from the +house, and took my way to the residence of a gentleman who had shown me +many kindnesses during my visits at Cedarville. There was needed +scarcely a word of representation on my part, to secure the cordial +tender of a bed. +</P> + +<P> +What a change! It seemed almost like a passage from Pandemonium to a +heavenly region, as I seated myself alone in the quiet chamber a +cheerful hospitality had assigned me, and mused on the exciting and +terrible incidents of the day. They that sow the wind shall reap the +whirlwind. How marked had been the realization of this prophecy, +couched in such strong but beautiful imagery! +</P> + +<P> +On the next day I was to leave Cedarville. Early in the morning I +repaired to the "Sickle and Sheaf." The storm was over, and all was +calm and silent as desolation. Hours before, the tempest had subsided; +but the evidences left behind of its ravaging fury were fearful to look +upon. Doors, chairs, windows, and table's were broken, and even the +strong brass rod that ornamented the bar had been partially wrenched +from its fastenings by strong hands, under an impulse of murder, that +only lacked a weapon to execute its fiendish purpose. Stains of blood, +in drops, marks, and even dried-up pools, were to be seen all over the +bar-room and passage floors, and in many places on the porch. +</P> + +<P> +In the sitting-room still lay the body of Green. Here, too, were many +signs to indicate a fierce struggle. The looking-glass was smashed to a +hundred pieces, and the shivered fragments lay yet untouched upon the +floor. A chair, which it was plain had been used as a weapon of +assault, had two of its legs broken short off, and was thrown into a +corner. And even the bearers on which the dead man lay were pushed from +their true position, showing that even in its mortal sleep, the body of +Green had felt the jarring strife of elements he had himself helped to +awaken into mad activity. From his face, the sheet had been drawn +aside; but no hand ventured to replace it; and there it lay, in its +ghastly paleness, exposed to the light, and covered with restless +flies, attracted by the first faint odors of putridity. With gaze +averted, I approached the body, and drew the covering decently over it. +</P> + +<P> +No person was in the bar. I went out into the stable-yard, where I met +the hostler with his head bound up. There was a dark blue circle around +one of his eyes, and an ugly-looking red scar on his cheek. +</P> + +<P> +"Where is Mr. Slade?" I inquired. +</P> + +<P> +"In bed, and likely to keep it for a week," was answered. +</P> + +<P> +"How comes that?" +</P> + +<P> +"Naturally enough. There was fighting all around last night, and he had +to come in for a share. The fool! If he'd just held his tongue, he +might have come out of it with a whole skin. But, when the rum is in, +the wit is out, with him. It's cost me a black eye and a broken head; +for how could I stand by and see him murdered outright?" +</P> + +<P> +"Is he very badly injured?" +</P> + +<P> +"I rather think he is. One eye is clean gone." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, shocking!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's shocking enough, and no mistake." +</P> + +<P> +"Lost an eye?" +</P> + +<P> +"Too true, sir. The doctor saw him this morning, and says the eye was +fairly gouged out, and broken up. In fact, when we carried him upstairs +for dead, last night, his eye was lying upon his cheek. I pushed it +back with my own hand!" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, horrible!" The relation made me sick. "Is he otherwise much +injured?" +</P> + +<P> +"The doctor thinks there are some bad hurts inside. Why, they kicked +and trampled upon him, as if he had been a wild beast! I never saw such +a pack of blood-thirsty devils in my life!" +</P> + +<P> +"So much for rum," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, sir; so much for rum," was the emphatic response. "It was the +rum, and nothing else. Why, some of the very men who acted the most +like tigers and devils, are as harmless persons as you will find in +Cedarville when sober. Yes, sir; it was the rum, and nothing else. Rum +gave me this broken head and black eye." +</P> + +<P> +"So you had been drinking also?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes. There's no use in denying that." +</P> + +<P> +"Liquor does you harm." +</P> + +<P> +"Nobody knows that better than I do." +</P> + +<P> +"Why do you drink, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, just because it comes in the way. Liquor is under my eyes and nose +all the time, and it's as natural as breathing to take a little now and +then. And when I don't think of it myself, somebody will think of it +for me, and say—'Come, Sam, let's take something.' So, you see, for a +body such as I am, there isn't much help for it." +</P> + +<P> +"But ain't you afraid to go on in this way? Don't you know where it +will all end?" +</P> + +<P> +"Just as well as anybody. It will make an end of me or—of all that is +good in me. Rum and ruin, you know, sir. They go together like twin +brothers." +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you get out of the way of temptation?" said I. +</P> + +<P> +"It's easy enough to ask that question, sir; but how am I to get out of +the way of temptation? Where shall I go, and not find a bar in my road, +and somebody to say—'Come, Sam, let's take a drink'? It can't be done, +sir, nohow. I'm a hostler, and I don't know how to be anything else." +</P> + +<P> +"Can't you work on a farm?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; I can do something in that way. But, when there are taverns and +bar-rooms, as many as three or four in every mile all over the country, +how are you to keep clear of them? Figure me out that." +</P> + +<P> +"I think you'd better vote on the Maine Law side at next election," +said I. +</P> + +<P> +"Faith, and I did it last time!" replied the man, with a brightening +face—"and if I'm spared, I'll go the same ticket next year." +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think of the Law?" I asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Think of it! Bless your heart! if I was a praying man, which I'm sorry +to say I ain't—my mother was a pious woman, sir"—his voice fell and +slightly trembled—"if I was a praying man, sir, I'd pray, night and +morning, and twenty times every day of my life, for God to put it into +the hearts of the people to give us that Law. I'd have some hope then. +But I haven't much as it is. There's no use in trying to let liquor +alone." +</P> + +<P> +"Do many drinking men think as you do?" +</P> + +<P> +"I can count up a dozen or two myself. It isn't the drinking men who +are so much opposed to the Maine Law as your politicians. They throw +dust in the people's eyes about it, and make a great many, who know +nothing at all of the evils of drinking in themselves, believe some +bugbear story about trampling on the rights of I don't know who, nor +they either. As for rum-sellers' rights, I never could see any right +they had to get rich by ruining poor devils such as I am. I think, +though, that we have some right to be protected against them." +</P> + +<P> +The ringing of a bell here announced the arrival of some traveler, and +the hostler left me. +</P> + +<P> +I learned, during the morning, that Matthew, the bar-keeper, and also +the son of Mr. Slade, were both considerably hurt during the affrays in +the bar-room, and were confined, temporarily, to their beds. Mrs. Slade +still continued in a distressing and dangerous state. Judge Lyman, +though shockingly injured, was not thought to be in a critical +condition. +</P> + +<P> +A busy day the sheriff had of it, making arrests of various parties +engaged in the last night's affairs. Even Slade, unable as he was to +lift his head from his pillow, was required to give heavy bail for his +appearance at court. Happily, I escaped the inconvenience of being held +to appear as a witness, and early in the afternoon had the satisfaction +of finding myself rapidly borne away in the stage-coach. It was two +years before I entered the pleasant village of Cedarville again. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE EIGHTH. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +REAPING THE WHIRLWIND. +</H3> + +<P> +I was in Washington City during the succeeding month. It was the short, +or closing session, of a regular Congressional term. The implication of +Judge Lyman in the affair of Green and young Hammond had brought him +into such bad odor in Cedarville and the whole district from which he +had been chosen, that his party deemed it wise to set him aside, and +take up a candidate less likely to meet with so strong and, it might +be, successful an opposition. By so doing, they were able to secure the +election, once more, against the growing temperance party, which +succeeded, however, in getting a Maine Law man into the State +Legislature. It was, therefore, Judge Lyman's last winter at the +Federal Capital. +</P> + +<P> +While seated in the reading-room at Fuller's Hotel, about noon, on the +day after my arrival in Washington, I noticed an individual, whose face +looked familiar, come in and glance about, as if in search of some one. +While yet questioning my mind who he could be, I heard a man remark to +a person with whom he had been conversing: +</P> + +<P> +"There's that vagabond member away from his place in the House, again." +</P> + +<P> +"Who?" inquired the other. +</P> + +<P> +"Why. Judge Lyman," was answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Oh!" said the other, indifferently; "it isn't of much consequence. +Precious little wisdom does he add to that intelligent body." +</P> + +<P> +"His vote is worth something, at least, when important questions are at +stake." +</P> + +<P> +"What does he charge for it?" was coolly inquired. +</P> + +<P> +There was a shrug of the shoulders, and an arching of the eyebrows, but +no answer. +</P> + +<P> +"I'm in earnest, though, in the question," said the last speaker. +</P> + +<P> +"Not in saying that Lyman will sell his vote to the highest bidders?" +</P> + +<P> +"That will depend altogether upon whom the bidders may be. They must be +men who have something to lose as well as gain—men not at all likely +to bruit the matter, and in serving whose personal interests no +abandonment of party is required. Judge Lyman is always on good terms +with the lobby members, and may be found in company with some of them +daily. Doubtless, his absence from the House, now, is for the purpose +of a special meeting with gentlemen who are ready to pay well for votes +in favor of some bill making appropriations of public money for private +or corporate benefit." +</P> + +<P> +"You certainly can not mean all you say to be taken in its broadest +sense," was replied to this. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; in its very broadest. Into just this deep of moral and political +degradation has this man fallen, disgracing his constituents, and +dishonoring his country." +</P> + +<P> +"His presence at Washington doesn't speak very highly in favor of the +community he represents." +</P> + +<P> +"No; still, as things are now, we cannot judge of the moral worth of a +community by the man sent from it to Congress. Representatives show +merely the strength of parties. The candidate chosen in party primary +meetings is not selected because he is the best man they have, and the +one fittest to legislate wisely in national affairs; but he who happens +to have the strongest personal friends among those who nominate, or who +is most likely to poll the highest vote. This is why we find,' in +Congress, such a large preponderance of tenth-rate men." +</P> + +<P> +"A man such as you represent Judge Lyman to be would sell his country, +like another Arnold." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; if the bid were high enough." +</P> + +<P> +"Does he gamble?" +</P> + +<P> +"Gambling, I might say, is a part of his profession. Very few nights +pass, I am told, without finding him at the gaming-table." +</P> + +<P> +I heard no more. At all this, I was not in the least surprised; for my +knowledge of the man's antecedents had prepared me for allegations +quite as bad as these. +</P> + +<P> +During the week I spent at the Federal Capital, I had several +opportunities of seeing Judge Lyman, in the House and out of it,—in +the House only when the yeas and nays were called on some important +measure, or a vote taken on a bill granting special privileges. In the +latter case, his vote, as I noticed, was generally cast on the +affirmative side. Several times I saw him staggering on the Avenue, and +once brought into the House for the purpose of voting, in so drunken a +state, that he had to be supported to his seat. And even worse than +this—when his name was called, he was asleep, and had to be shaken +several times before he was sufficiently aroused to give his vote! +</P> + +<P> +Happily, for the good of his country, it was his last winter in +Washington. At the next session, a better man took his place. +</P> + +<P> +Two years from the period of my last visit to Cedarville, I found +myself approaching that quiet village again. As the church-spire came +in view, and house after house became visible, here and there, standing +out in pleasant relief against the green background of woods and +fields, all the exciting events which rendered my last visit so +memorable, came up fresh in my mind. I was yet thinking of Willy +Hammond's dreadful death, and of his broken-hearted mother, whose life +went out with his, when the stage rolled by their old homestead. Oh, +what a change was here! Neglect, decay, and dilapidation were visible, +let the eye fall where it would. The fences were down, here and there; +the hedges, once so green and nicely trimmed, had grown rankly in some +places, but were stunted and dying in others; all the beautiful walks +were weedy and grass-grown, and the box-borders dead; the garden, +rainbow-hued in its wealth of choice and beautiful flowers when I first +saw it, was lying waste,—a rooting-ground for hogs. A glance at the +house showed a broken chimney, the bricks unremoved from the spot where +they struck the ground; a moss grown roof, with a large limb from a +lightning-rent tree lying almost balanced over the eaves, and +threatening to fall at the touch of the first wind-storm that swept +over. Half of the vines that clambered about the portico were dead, and +the rest, untrained, twined themselves in wild disorder, or fell +groveling to the earth. One of the pillars of the portico was broken, +as were, also, two of the steps that went up to it. The windows of the +house were closed, but the door stood open, and, as the stage went +past, my eyes rested, for a moment, upon an old man seated in the hall. +He was not near enough to the door for me to get a view of his face; +but the white flowing hair left me in no doubt as to his identity. It +was Judge Hammond. +</P> + +<P> +The "Sickle and Sheaf" was yet the stage-house of Cedarville, and +there, a few minutes afterward, I found myself. The hand of change had +been here also. The first object that attracted my attention was the +sign-post, which at my earlier arrival, some eight or nine years +before, stood up in its new white garment of paint, as straight as a +plummet-line, bearing proudly aloft the golden sheaf and gleaming +sickle. Now, the post, dingy and shattered and worn from the frequent +contact of wheels, and gnawing of restless horses, leaned from its trim +perpendicular at an angle of many degrees, as if ashamed of the faded, +weather-worn, lying symbol it bore aloft in the sunshine. Around the +post was a filthy mud-pool, in which a hog lay grunting out its sense +of enjoyment. Two or three old empty whisky barrels lumbered up the +dirty porch, on which a coarse, bloated, vulgar-looking man sat leaning +against the wall—his chair tipped back on its hind legs—squinting at +me from one eye, as I left the stage and came forward toward the house. +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! is this you?" said he, as I came near to him, speaking thickly, +and getting up with a heavy motion. I now recognized the altered person +of Simon Slade. On looking at him closer, I saw that the eye which I +had thought only shut was in fact destroyed. How vividly, now, uprose +in imagination the scenes I had witnessed during my last night in his +bar-room; the night when a brutal mob, whom he had inebriated with +liquor, came near murdering him. +</P> + +<P> +"Glad to see you once more, my boy! Glad to see you! I—I—I'm not +just—you see. How are you? How are you?" +</P> + +<P> +And he shook my hand with a drunken show of cordiality. +</P> + +<P> +I felt shocked and disgusted. Wretched man! down the crumbling sides of +the pit he had digged for other feet, he was himself sliding, while not +enough strength remained even to struggle with his fate. +</P> + +<P> +I tried for a few minutes to talk with him; but his mind was altogether +beclouded, and his questions and answers incoherent; so I left him, and +entered the bar-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Can I get accommodations here for a couple of days?" I inquired of a +stupid, sleepy-looking man, who was sitting in a chair behind the bar. +</P> + +<P> +"I reckon so," he answered, but did not rise. +</P> + +<P> +I turned, and walked a few paces toward the door, and then walked back +again. +</P> + +<P> +"I'd like to get a room," said I. +</P> + +<P> +The man got up slowly, and going to a desk, fumbled about it for a +while. At length he brought out an old, dilapidated bank-book, and +throwing it open on the counter, asked me, with an indifferent manner, +to write down my name. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll take a pen, if you please." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes!" And he hunted about again in the desk, from which, after a +while, he brought forth the blackened stump of a quill, and pushed it +toward me across the counter. +</P> + +<P> +"Ink," said I—fixing my eyes upon him with a look of displeasure. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't believe there is any," he muttered. "Frank," and he called the +landlord's son, going to the door behind the bar as he did so. +</P> + +<P> +"What d'ye want?" a rough, ill-natured voice answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Where's the ink?" +</P> + +<P> +"Don't know anything about it." +</P> + +<P> +"You had it last. What did you do with it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Nothing!" was growled back. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, I wish you'd find it." +</P> + +<P> +"Find it yourself, and—" I cannot repeat the profane language he used. +</P> + +<P> +"Never mind," said I. "A pencil will do just as well." And I drew one +from my pocket. The attempt to write with this, on the begrimed and +greasy page of the register, was only partially successful. It would +have puzzled almost any one to make out the name. From the date of the +last entry, it appeared that mine was the first arrival, for over a +week, of any person desiring a room. +</P> + +<P> +As I finished writing my name, Frank came stalking in, with a cigar in +his mouth, and a cloud of smoke around his head. He had grown into a +stout man—though his face presented little that was manly, in the true +sense of the word. He was disgustingly sensual. On seeing me, a slight +flush tinged his cheeks. +</P> + +<P> +"How do you do?" he said, offering me his hand. "Peter,"—he turned to +the lazy-looking bar-keeper—"tell Jane to have No. 11 put in order for +a gentleman immediately, and tell her to be sure and change the bed +linen." +</P> + +<P> +"Things look rather dull here," I remarked, as the bar-keeper went out +to do as he had been directed. +</P> + +<P> +"Rather; it's a dull place, anyhow." +</P> + +<P> +"How is your mother?" I inquired. +</P> + +<P> +A slight, troubled look came into his face, as he answered: +</P> + +<P> +"No better." +</P> + +<P> +"She's sick, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; she's been sick a good while; and I'm afraid will never be much +better." His manner was not altogether cold and indifferent, but there +was a want of feeling in his voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Is she at home?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, sir." +</P> + +<P> +As he showed no inclination to say more on the subject, I asked no +further questions, and he soon found occasion to leave me. +</P> + +<P> +The bar room had undergone no material change, so far as its furniture +and arrangements were concerned; but a very great change was apparent +in the condition of these. The brass rod around the bar, which, at my +last visit was brightly polished, was now a greenish-black, and there +came from it an unpleasant odor of verdigris. The walls were fairly +coated with dust, smoke, and fly-specks, and the windows let in the +light but feebly through the dirt-obscured glass. The floor was filthy. +Behind the bar, on the shelves designed for a display of liquors, was a +confused mingling of empty or half-filled decanters, cigar-boxes, +lemons and lemon-peel, old newspapers, glasses, a broken pitcher, a +hat, a soiled vest, and a pair of blacking brushes, with other +incongruous things, not now remembered. The air of the room was loaded +with offensive vapors. +</P> + +<P> +Disgusted with every thing about the bar, I went into the sitting-room. +Here, there was some order in the arrangement of the dingy furniture; +but you might have written your name in dust on the looking-glass and +table. The smell of the torpid atmosphere was even worse than that of +the bar-room. So I did not linger here, but passed through the hall, +and out upon the porch, to get a draught of pure air. +</P> + +<P> +Slade still sat leaning against the wall. +</P> + +<P> +"Fine day this," said he, speaking in a mumbling kind of voice. +</P> + +<P> +"Very fine," I answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, very fine." +</P> + +<P> +"Not doing so well as you were a few years ago," said I. +</P> + +<P> +"No—you see—these—these 'ere blamed temperance people are ruining +everything." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! Is that so?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Cedarville isn't what it was when you first came to the 'Sickle +and Sheaf.' I—I—you see. Curse the temperance people! They've ruined +every thing, you see. Every thing! Ruined—" +</P> + +<P> +And he muttered and mouthed his words in such a way, that I could +understand but little he said; and, in that little, there was scarcely +any coherency. So I left him, with a feeling of pity in my heart for +the wreck he had become, and went into the town to call upon one or two +gentlemen with whom I had business. +</P> + +<P> +In the course of the afternoon, I learned that Mrs. Slade was in an +insane asylum, about five miles from Cedarville. The terrible events of +the day on which young Hammond was murdered completed the work of +mental ruin, begun at the time her husband abandoned the quiet, +honorable calling of a miller, and became a tavern-keeper. Reason could +hold its position no longer. When word came to her that Willy and his +mother were both dead, she uttered a wild shriek, and fell down in a +fainting fit. From that period the balance of her mind was destroyed. +Long before this, her friends saw that reason wavered. Frank had been +her idol. A pure, bright, affectionate boy he was, when she removed +with him from their pleasant cottage-home, where all the surrounding +influences were good, into a tavern, where an angel could scarcely +remain without corruption. From the moment this change was decided on +by her husband, a shadow fell upon her heart. She saw, before her +husband, her children, and herself, a yawning pit, and felt that, in a +very few years, all of them must plunge down into its fearful darkness. +</P> + +<P> +Alas! how quickly began the realization of her worst fears in the +corruption of her worshipped boy! And how vain proved all effort and +remonstrance, looking to his safety, whether made with himself or his +father! From the day the tavern was opened, and Frank drew into his +lungs full draughts of the changed atmosphere by which he was now +surrounded, the work of moral deterioration commenced. The very smell +of the liquor exhilarated him unnaturally; while the subjects of +conversation, so new to him, that found discussion in the bar-room, +soon came to occupy a prominent place in his imagination, to the +exclusion of those humane, child-like, tender, and heavenly thoughts +and impressions it had been the mother's care to impart and awaken. Ah! +with what an eager zest does the heart drink in of evil. And how almost +hopeless is the case of a boy, surrounded, as Frank was, by the +corrupting, debasing associations of a bar-room! Had his father +meditated his ruin, he could not have more surely laid his plans for +the fearful consummation; and he reaped as he had sown. With a selfish +desire to get gain, he embarked in the trade of corruption, ruin, and +death, weakly believing that he and his could pass through the fire +harmless. How sadly a few years demonstrated his error, we have seen. +</P> + +<P> +Flora, I learned, was with her mother, devoting her life to her. The +dreadful death of Willy Hammond, for whom she had conceived a strong +attachment, came near depriving her of reason also. Since the day on +which that awful tragedy occurred, she had never even looked upon her +old home. She went away with her unconscious mother, and ever since had +remained with her—devoting her life to her comfort. Long before this, +all her own and mother's influence over her brother had come to an end. +It mattered not how she sought to stay his feet, so swiftly moving +along the downward way, whether by gentle entreaty, earnest +remonstrance, or tears; in either case, wounds for her own heart were +the sure consequences, while his steps never lingered a moment. A swift +destiny seemed hurrying him on to ruin. The change in her father—once +so tender, so cheerful in his tone, so proud of and loving toward his +daughter—was another source of deep grief to her pure young spirit. +Over him, as well as over her brother, all her power was lost; and he +even avoided her, as though her presence were an offense to him. And +so, when she went out from her unhappy home, she took with her no +desire to return. Even when imagination bore her back to the "Sickle +and Sheaf," she felt an intense, heart-sickening repulsion toward the +place where she had first felt the poisoned arrows of life; and in the +depths of her spirit she prayed that her eyes might never look upon it +again. In her almost cloister-like seclusion, she sought to gather the +mantle of oblivion about her heart. +</P> + +<P> +Had not her mother's condition made Flora's duty a plain one, the true, +unselfish instincts of her heart would have doubtless led her back to +the polluted home she had left, there, in a kind of living death, to +minister as best she could to the comfort of a debased father and +brother. But she was spared that trial—that fruitless sacrifice. +</P> + +<P> +Evening found me once more in the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf." +The sleepy, indifferent bar-keeper, was now more in his element—looked +brighter, and had quicker motions. Slade, who had partially recovered +from the stupefying effects of the heavy draughts of ale with which he +washed down his dinner, was also in a better condition, though not +inclined to talk. He was sitting at a table, alone, with his eyes +wandering about the room. Whether his thoughts were agreeable or +disagreeable, it was not easy to determine. Frank was there, the centre +of a noisy group of coarse fellows, whose vulgar sayings and profane +expletives continually rung through the room. The noisiest, coarsest, +and most profane was Frank Slade; yet did not the incessant volume of +bad language that flowed from his tongue appear in the least to disturb +his father. +</P> + +<P> +Outraged, at length, by this disgusting exhibition, that had not even +the excuse of an exciting cause, I was leaving the bar-room, when I +heard some one remark to a young man who had just come in: "What! you +here again, Ned? Ain't you afraid your old man will be after you, as +usual?" +</P> + +<P> +"No," answered the person addressed, chuckling inwardly, "he's gone to +a prayer-meeting." +</P> + +<P> +"You'll at least have the benefit of his prayers," was lightly remarked. +</P> + +<P> +I turned to observe the young man more closely. His face I remembered, +though I could not identify him at first. But, when I heard him +addressed soon after as Ned Hargrove, I had a vivid recollection of a +little incident that occurred some years before, and which then made a +strong impression. The reader has hardly forgotten the visit of Mr. +Hargrove to the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf," and the +conversation among some of its inmates, which his withdrawal, in +company with his son, then occasioned. The father's watchfulness over +his boy, and his efforts to save him from the allurements and +temptations of a bar-room, had proved, as now appeared, unavailing. The +son was several years older; but it was sadly evident, from the +expression of his face, that he had been growing older in evil faster +than in years. +</P> + +<P> +The few words that I have mentioned as passing between this young man +and another inmate of the bar-room, caused me to turn back from the +door, through which I was about passing, and take a chair near to where +Hargrove had seated himself. As I did so, the eyes of Simon Slade +rested on the last-named individual. +</P> + +<P> +"Ned Hargrove!" he said, speaking roughly—"if you want a drink, you'd +better get it, and make yourself scarce." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't trouble yourself," retorted the young man, "you'll get your +money for the drink in good time." +</P> + +<P> +This irritated the landlord, who swore at Hargrove violently, and said +something about not wanting boys about his place who couldn't stir from +home without having "daddy or mammy running after them." +</P> + +<P> +"Never fear!" cried out the person who had first addressed +Hargrove—"his old man's gone to a prayer-meeting. We shan't have the +light of his pious countenance here to-night." +</P> + +<P> +I fixed my eyes upon the young man to see what effect this coarse and +irreverent allusion to his father would have. A slight tinge of shame +was in his face; but I saw that he had not sufficient moral courage to +resent the shameful desecration of a parent's name. How should he, when +he was himself the first to desecrate that name? +</P> + +<P> +"If he were forty fathoms deep in the infernal regions," answered +Slade, "he'd find out that Ned was here, and get half an hour's leave +of absence to come after him. The fact is, I'm tired of seeing his +solemn, sanctimonious face here every night. If the boy hasn't spirit +enough to tell him to mind his own business, as I have done more than +fifty times, why, let the boy stay away himself." +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you send him off with a flea in his ear, Ned?" said one of +the company, a young man scarcely his own age. "My old man tried that +game with me, but he soon found that I could hold the winning cards." +</P> + +<P> +"Just what I'm going to do the very next time he comes after me." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes! So you've said twenty times," remarked Frank Slade, in a +sneering, insolent manner. +</P> + +<P> +Edward Hargrove had not the spirit to resent this; he only answered: +</P> + +<P> +"Just let him show himself here to-night, and you will see." +</P> + +<P> +"No, we won't see," sneered Frank. +</P> + +<P> +"Wouldn't it be fun!" was exclaimed. "I hope to be on hand, should it +ever come off." +</P> + +<P> +"He's as 'fraid as death of the old chap," laughed a sottish-looking +man, whose age ought to have inspired him with some respect for the +relation between father and son, and doubtless would, had not a long +course of drinking and familiarity with debasing associates blunted his +moral sense. +</P> + +<P> +"Now for it!" I heard uttered, in a quick, delighted voice. "Now for +fun! Spunk up to him, Ned! Never say die!" +</P> + +<P> +I turned toward the door, and there stood the father of Edward +Hargrove. How well I remembered the broad, fine forehead, the steady, +yet mild eyes, the firm lips, the elevated, superior bearing of the man +I had once before seen in that place, and on a like errand. His form +was slightly bent now; his hair was whiter; his eyes farther back in +his head; his face thinner and marked with deeper lines; and there was +in the whole expression of his face a touching sadness. Yet, superior +to the marks of time and suffering, an unflinching resolution was +visible in his countenance, that gave to it a dignity, and extorted +involuntary respect. He stood still, after advancing a few paces, and +then, his searching eyes having discovered his son, he said mildly, yet +firmly, and with such a strength of parental love in his voice that +resistance was scarcely possible: +</P> + +<P> +"Edward! Edward! Come, my son." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't go." The words were spoken in an undertone, and he who uttered +them turned his face away from Mr. Hargrove, so that the old man could +not see the motion of his lips. A little while before, he had spoken +bravely against the father of Edward; now, he could not stand up in his +presence. +</P> + +<P> +I looked at Edward. He did not move from where he was sitting, and yet +I saw that to resist his father cost him no light struggle. +</P> + +<P> +"Edward." There was nothing imperative—nothing stern—nothing +commanding in the father's voice; but its great, its almost +irresistible power, lay in its expression of the father's belief that +his son would instantly leave the place. And it was this power that +prevailed. Edward arose, and, with eyes cast upon the floor, was moving +away from his companions, when Frank Slade exclaimed: +</P> + +<P> +"Poor, weak fool!" +</P> + +<P> +It was a lightning flash of indignation, rather than a mere glance from +the human eye, that Mr. Hargrove threw instantly upon Frank; while his +fine form sprung up erect. He did not speak, but merely transfixed him +with a look. Frank curled his lip impotently, as he tried to return the +old man's withering glances. +</P> + +<P> +"Now look here!" said Simon Slade, in some wrath, "there's been just +about enough of this. I'm getting tired of it. Why don't you keep Ned +at home? Nobody wants him here." +</P> + +<P> +"Refuse to sell him liquor," returned Mr. Hargrove. +</P> + +<P> +"It's my trade to sell liquor," answered Slade, boldly. +</P> + +<P> +"I wish you had a more honorable calling," said Hargrove, almost +mournfully. +</P> + +<P> +"If you insult my father, I'll strike you down!" exclaimed Frank Slade, +starting up and assuming a threatening aspect. +</P> + +<P> +"I respect filial devotion, meet it where I will," calmly replied Mr. +Hargrove,—"I only wish it had a better foundation in this case. I only +wish the father had merited——" +</P> + +<P> +I will not stain my page with the fearful oath that Frank Slade yelled, +rather than uttered, as, with clenched fist, he sprung toward Mr. +Hargrove. But ere he had reached the unruffled old man—who stood +looking at him as one would look into the eyes of a wild beast, +confident that he could not stand the gaze—a firm hand grasped his +arm, and a rough voice said: +</P> + +<P> +"Avast, there, young man! Touch a hair of that white head, and I'll +wring your neck off." +</P> + +<P> +"Lyon!" As Frank uttered the man's name, he raised his fist to strike +him. A moment the clenched hand remained poised in the air; then it +fell slowly to his side, and he contented himself with an oath and a +vile epithet. +</P> + +<P> +"You can swear to your heart's content. It will do nobody any harm but +yourself," coolly replied Mr. Lyon, whom I now recognized as the person +with whom I had held several conversations during previous visits. +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, Mr. Lyon," said Mr. Hargrove, "for this manly interference. +It is no more than I should have expected from you." +</P> + +<P> +"I never suffer a young man to strike an old man," said Lyon firmly. +"Apart from that, Mr. Hargrove, there are other reasons why your person +must be free from violence where I am." +</P> + +<P> +"This is a bad place for you, Lyon," said Mr. Hargrove; "and I've said +so to you a good many times." He spoke in rattier an undertone. "Why +WILL you come here?" +</P> + +<P> +"It's a bad place, I know," replied Lyon, speaking out boldly, "and we +all know it. But habit, Mr. Hargrove—habit. That's the cursed thing! +If the bar-rooms were all shut up, there would be another story to +tell. Get us the Maine law, and there will be some chance for us." +</P> + +<P> +"Why don't you vote the temperance ticket?" asked Mr. Hargrove. +</P> + +<P> +"Why did I? you'd better ask," said Lyon. +</P> + +<P> +"I thought you voted against us." +</P> + +<P> +"Not I. Ain't quite so blind to my own interest as that. And, if the +truth were known, I should not at all wonder if every man in this room, +except Slade and his son, voted on your side of the house." +</P> + +<P> +"It's a little strange, then," said Mr. Hargrove, "that with the +drinking men on our side, we failed to secure the election." +</P> + +<P> +"You must blame that on your moderate men, who see no danger and go +blind with their party," answered Lyon. "We have looked the evil in the +face, and know its direful quality." +</P> + +<P> +"Come! I would like to talk with you, Mr. Lyon." +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Hargrove, his son, and Mr. Lyon went out together. As they left the +room, Frank Slade said: +</P> + +<P> +"What a cursed liar and hypocrite he is!" +</P> + +<P> +"Who?" was asked. +</P> + +<P> +"Why, Lyon," answered Frank, boldly. +</P> + +<P> +"You'd better say that to his face." +</P> + +<P> +"It wouldn't be good for him," remarked one of the company. +</P> + +<P> +At this Frank started to his feet, stalked about the room, and put on +all the disgusting airs of a drunken braggart. Even his father saw the +ridiculous figure he cut, and growled out: +</P> + +<P> +"There, Frank, that'll do. Don't make a miserable fool of yourself!" +</P> + +<P> +At which Frank retorted, with so much of insolence that his father flew +into a towering passion, and ordered him to leave the bar-room. +</P> + +<P> +"You can go out yourself if you don't like the company. I'm very well +satisfied," answered Frank. +</P> + +<P> +"Leave this room, you impudent young scoundrel!" +</P> + +<P> +"Can't go, my amiable friend," said Frank, with a cool self-possession +that maddened his father, who got up hastily, and moved across the +bar-room to the place where he was standing. +</P> + +<P> +"Go out, I tell you!" Slade spoke resolutely. +</P> + +<P> +"Would be happy to oblige you," Frank said, in a taunting voice; "but, +'pon my word, it isn't at all convenient." +</P> + +<P> +Half intoxicated as he was, and already nearly blind with passion, +Slade lifted his hand to strike his son. And the blow would have fallen +had not some one caught his arm, and held him back from the meditated +violence. Even the debased visitors of this bar-room could not stand by +and see nature outraged in a bloody strife between father and son; for +it was plain from the face and quickly assumed attitude of Frank, that +if his father had laid his hand upon him, he would have struck him in +return. +</P> + +<P> +I could not remain to hear the awful imprecations that father and son, +in their impotent rage, called down from heaven upon each other's +heads. It was the most shocking exhibition of depraved human nature +that I had ever seen. And so I left the bar-room, glad to escape from +its stifling atmosphere and revolting scenes. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE NINTH. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +A FEARFUL CONSUMMATION. +</H3> + +<P> +Neither Slade nor his son was present at the breakfast-table on the +next morning. As for myself, I did not eat with much appetite. Whether +this defect arose from the state of my mind, or the state of the food +set before me, I did not stop to inquire; but left the stifling, +offensive atmosphere of the dining-room in a very few moments after +entering that usually attractive place for a hungry man. +</P> + +<P> +A few early drinkers were already in the bar-room—men with shattered +nerves and cadaverous faces, who could not begin the day's work without +the stimulus of brandy or whisky. They came in, with gliding footsteps, +asked for what they wanted in low voices, drank in silence, and +departed. It was a melancholy sight to look upon. +</P> + +<P> +About nine o'clock the landlord made his appearance. He, too, came +gliding into the bar-room, and his first act was to seize upon a brandy +decanter, pour out nearly half a pint of the fiery liquid, and drink it +off. How badly his hand shook—so badly that he spilled the brandy both +in pouring it out and in lifting the glass to his lips! What a +shattered wreck he was! He looked really worse now than he did on the +day before, when drink gave an artificial vitality to his system, a +tension to his muscles, and light to his countenance. The miller of ten +years ago, and the tavern-keeper of today! Who could have identified +them as one? +</P> + +<P> +Slade was turning from the bar, when a man? came in. I noticed an +instant change in the landlord's countenance. He looked startled; +almost frightened. The man drew a small package from his pocket, and +after selecting a paper therefrom, presented it to Slade, who received +it with a nervous reluctance, opened, and let his eye fall upon the +writing within. I was observing him closely at the time, and saw his +countenance flush deeply. In a moment or two it became pale +again—paler even than before. +</P> + +<P> +"Very well—all right. I'll attend to it," said the landlord, trying to +recover himself, yet swallowing with every sentence. +</P> + +<P> +The man who was no other than a sheriff's deputy, and who gave him a +sober, professional look, then went out with a firm step, and an air of +importance. As he passed through the outer door, Slade retired from the +bar-room. +</P> + +<P> +"Trouble coming," I heard the bar-keeper remark, speaking partly to +himself and partly with the view, as was evident from his manner, of +leading me to question him. But this I did not feel that it was right +to do. +</P> + +<P> +"Got the sheriff on him at last," added the bar-keeper. +</P> + +<P> +"What's the matter, Bill?" inquired a man who now came in with a +bustling, important air, and leaned familiarly over the bar. "Who was +Jenkins after?" +</P> + +<P> +"The old man," replied the bar-keeper, in a voice that showed pleasure +rather than regret. +</P> + +<P> +"No!" +</P> + +<P> +"It's a fact." Bill, the bar-keeper, actually smiled. +</P> + +<P> +"What's to pay?" said the man. +</P> + +<P> +"Don't know, and don't care much." "Did he serve a summons or an +execution?" +</P> + +<P> +"Can't tell." +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Lyman's suit went against him." +</P> + +<P> +"Did it?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes; and I heard Judge Lyman swear, that if he got him on the hip, +he'd sell him out, bag and basket. And he's the man to keep his word." +</P> + +<P> +"I never could just make out," said the bar-keeper, "how he ever came +to owe Judge Lyman so much. I've never known of any business +transactions between them." +</P> + +<P> +"It's been dog eat dog, I rather guess," said the man. +</P> + +<P> +"What do you mean by that?" inquired the bar-keeper. +</P> + +<P> +"You've heard of dogs hunting in pairs?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, since Harvey Green got his deserts, the business of fleecing our +silly young fellows, who happened to have more money than wit or +discretion, has been in the hands of Judge Lyman and Slade. They hunted +together, Slade holding the game, while the judge acted as +blood-sucker. But that business was interrupted about a year ago; and +game got so scarce that, as I suggested, dog began to eat dog. And here +comes the end of the matter, if I'm not mistaken. So mix us a stiff +toddy. I want one more good drink at the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' before the +colors are struck." +</P> + +<P> +And the man chuckled at his witty effort. +</P> + +<P> +During the day, I learned that affairs stood pretty much as this man +had conjectured. Lyman's suits had been on sundry notes payable on +demand; but nobody knew of any property transactions between him and +Slade. On the part of Slade, no defense had been made—the suit going +by default. The visit of the sheriff's officer was for the purpose of +serving an execution. +</P> + +<P> +As I walked through Cedarville on that day, the whole aspect of the +place seemed changed. I questioned with myself, often, whether this +were really so, or only the effect of imagination. The change was from +cheerfulness and thrift, to gloom and neglect. There was, to me, a +brooding silence in the air; a pause in the life-movement; a folding of +the hands, so to speak, because hope had failed from the heart. The +residence of Mr. Harrison, who, some two years before, had suddenly +awakened to a lively sense of the evil of rum-selling, because his own +sons were discovered to be in danger, had been one of the most tasteful +in Cedarville. I had often stopped to admire the beautiful shrubbery +and flowers with which it was surrounded; the walks so clear—the +borders so fresh and even—the arbors so cool and inviting. There was +not a spot upon which the eye could rest, that did not show the hand of +taste. When I now came opposite to this house, I was not longer in +doubt as to the actuality of a change. There were no marked evidences +of neglect; but the high cultivation and nice regard for the small +details were lacking. The walks were cleanly swept; but the box-borders +were not so carefully trimmed. The vines and bushes that in former +times were cut and tied so evenly, could hardly have felt the keen +touch of the pruning-knife for months. +</P> + +<P> +As I paused to note the change, a lady, somewhat beyond the middle age, +came from the house. I was struck by the deep gloom that overshadowed +her countenance. Ah! said I to myself, as I passed on, how many dear +hopes, that once lived in that heart, must have been scattered to the +winds. As I conjectured, this was Mrs. Harrison, and I was not +unprepared to hear, as I did a few hours afterward, that her two sons +had fallen into drinking habits; and, not only this, had been enticed +to the gaming-table. Unhappy mother! What a life-time of wretchedness +was compressed for thee into a few short years! +</P> + +<P> +I walked on, noting, here and there, changes even more marked than +appeared about the residence of Mr. Harrison. Judge Lyman's beautiful +place showed utter neglect; and so did one or two others that, on my +first visit to Cedarville, charmed me with their order, neatness, and +cultivation. In every instance, I learned, on inquiring, that the +owners of these, or some members of their families, were, or had been, +visitors at the "Sickle and Sheaf"; and that the ruin, in progress or +completed, began after the establishment of that point of attraction in +the village. +</P> + +<P> +Something of a morbid curiosity, excited by what I saw, led me on to +take a closer view of the residence of Judge Hammond than I had +obtained on the day before. The first thing that I noticed, on +approaching the old, decaying mansion, were handbills, posted on the +gate, the front-door, and on one of the windows. A nearer inspection +revealed their import. The property had been seized, and was now +offered at sheriff's sale! +</P> + +<P> +Ten years before, Judge Hammond was known as the richest man in +Cedarville; and now, the homestead which he had once so loved to +beautify—where all that was dearest to him in life once +gathered—worn, disfigured, and in ruins, was about to be wrested from +him. I paused at the gate, and leaning over it, looked in with saddened +feelings upon the dreary waste within. No sign of life was visible. The +door was shut—the windows closed—not the faintest wreath of smoke was +seen above the blackened chimney-tops. How vividly did imagination +restore the life, and beauty, and happiness, that made their home there +only a few years before,—the mother and her noble boy, one looking +with trembling hope, the other with joyous confidence, into the +future,—the father, proud of his household treasures, but not their +wise and jealous guardian. +</P> + +<P> +Ah! that his hands should have unbarred the door, and thrown it wide, +for the wolf to enter that precious fold! I saw them all in their sunny +life before me; yet, even as I looked upon them, their sky began to +darken. I heard the distant mutterings of the storm, and soon the +desolating tempest swept down fearfully upon them. I shuddered as it +passed away, to look upon the wrecks left scattered around. What a +change! +</P> + +<P> +"And all this," said I, "that one man, tired of being useful, and eager +to get gain, might gather in accursed gold!" +</P> + +<P> +Pushing open the gate, I entered the yard, and walked around the +dwelling, my footsteps echoing in the hushed solitude of the deserted +place. Hark! was that a human voice? +</P> + +<P> +I paused to listen. +</P> + +<P> +The sound came, once more, distinctly to my ears, I looked around, +above, everywhere, but perceived no living sign. For nearly a minute I +stood still, listening. Yes; there it was again—a low, moaning voice, +as of one in pain or grief. I stepped onward a few paces; and now saw +one of the doors standing ajar. As I pushed this door wide open, the +moan was repeated. Following the direction from which the sound came, I +entered one of the large drawing-rooms. The atmosphere was stifling, +and all as dark as if it were midnight. Groping my way to a window, I +drew back the bolt and threw open the shutter. Broadly the light fell +across the dusty, uncarpeted floor, and on the dingy furniture of the +room. As it did so, the moaning voice which had drawn me thither +swelled on the air again; and now I saw, lying upon an old sofa, the +form of a man. It needed no second glance to tell me that this was +Judge Hammond. I put my hand upon him, and uttered his name; but he +answered not. I spoke more firmly, and slightly shook him; but only a +piteous moan was returned. +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Hammond!" I now called aloud, and somewhat imperatively. +</P> + +<P> +But it availed nothing. The poor old man aroused not from the stupor in +which mind and body were enshrouded. +</P> + +<P> +"He is dying!" thought I; and instantly left the house in search of +some friends to take charge of him in his last, sad extremity. The +first person to whom I made known the fact shrugged his shoulders, and +said it was no affair of his, and that I must find somebody whose +business it was to attend to him. My next application was met in the +same spirit; and no better success attended my reference of the matter +to a third party. No one to whom I spoke seemed to have any sympathy +for the broken-down old man. Shocked by this indifference, I went to +one of the county officers, who, on learning the condition of Judge +Hammond, took immediate steps to have him removed to the Alms-house, +some miles distant. +</P> + +<P> +"But why to the Alms-house?" I inquired, on learning his purpose. "He +has property." +</P> + +<P> +"Everything has been seized for debt," was the reply. +</P> + +<P> +"Will there be nothing left after his creditors are satisfied?" +</P> + +<P> +"Very few, if any, will be satisfied," he answered. "There will not be +enough to pay half the judgments against him." +</P> + +<P> +"And is there no friend to take him in,—no one, of all who moved by +his side in the days of prosperity, to give a few hours' shelter, and +soothe the last moments of his unhappy life?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why did you make application here?" was the officer's significant +question. +</P> + +<P> +I was silent. +</P> + +<P> +"Your earnest appeals for the poor old man met with no words of +sympathy?" +</P> + +<P> +"None." +</P> + +<P> +"He has, indeed, fallen low. In the days of his prosperity, he had many +friends, so called. Adversity has shaken them all like dead leaves from +sapless branches." +</P> + +<P> +"But why? This is not always so." +</P> + +<P> +"Judge Hammond was a selfish, worldly man. People never liked him much. +His favoring, so strongly, the tavern of Slade, and his distillery +operations, turned from him some of his best friends. The corruption +and terrible fate of his son—and the insanity and death of his +wife—all were charged upon him in people's minds, and every one seemed +to turn from him instinctively after the fearful tragedy was completed. +He never held tip his head afterward. Neighbors shunned him as they +would a criminal. And here has come the end at last. He will be taken +to the poorhouse, to die there—a pauper!" +</P> + +<P> +"And all," said I, partly speaking to myself, "because a man, too lazy +to work at an honest calling, must needs go to rum-selling." +</P> + +<P> +"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," remarked the +officer with emphasis, as he turned from me to see that his directions +touching the removal of Mr. Hammond to the poor-house were promptly +executed. +</P> + +<P> +In my wanderings about Cedarville during that day, I noticed a small +but very neat cottage, a little way from the centre of the village. +There was not around it a great profusion of flowers and shrubbery; but +the few vines, flowers, and bushes that grew green and flourishing +about the door, and along the clean walks, added to the air of taste +and comfort that so peculiarly marked the dwelling. +</P> + +<P> +"Who lives in that pleasant little spot?" I asked of a man whom I had +frequently seen in Blade's bar-room. He happened to be passing the +house at the same time that I was. +</P> + +<P> +"Joe Morgan," was answered. +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed!" I spoke in some surprise. "And what of Morgan? How is he +doing?" +</P> + +<P> +"Very well." +</P> + +<P> +"Doesn't he drink?" +</P> + +<P> +"No. Since the death of his child, he has never taken a drop. That +event sobered him, and he has remained sober ever since." +</P> + +<P> +"What is he doing?" +</P> + +<P> +"Working at his old trade." +</P> + +<P> +"That of a miller?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. After Judge Hammond broke down, the distillery apparatus and +cotton spinning machinery were all sold and removed from Cedarville. +The purchaser of what remained, having something of the fear of God, as +well as regard for man, in his heart, set himself to the restoration of +the old order of things, and in due time the revolving mill-wheel was +at its old and better work of grinding corn and wheat for bread. The +only two men in Cedarville competent to take charge of the mill were +Simon Slade and Joe Morgan. The first could not be had, and the second +came in as a matter of course." +</P> + +<P> +"And he remains sober and industrious?" +</P> + +<P> +"As any man in the village," was the answer. +</P> + +<P> +I saw but little of Slade or his son during the day. But both were in +the bar-room at night, and both in a condition sorrowful to look upon. +Their presence, together, in the bar-room, half intoxicated as they +were, seemed to revive the unhappy temper of the previous evening, as +freshly as if the sun had not risen and set upon their anger. +</P> + +<P> +During the early part of the evening, considerable company was present, +though not of a very select class. A large proportion were young men. +To most of them the fact that Slade had fallen into the sheriff's hands +was known; and I gathered from some aside conversation which reached my +ears, that Frank's idle, spendthrift habits had hastened the present +crisis in his father's affairs. He, too, was in debt to Judge Lyman—on +what account, it was not hard to infer. +</P> + +<P> +It was after nine o'clock, and there were not half a dozen persons in +the room, when I noticed Frank Slade go behind the bar for the third or +fourth time. He was just lifting a decanter of brandy, when his father, +who was considerably under the influence of drink, started forward, and +laid his hand upon that of his son. Instantly a fierce light gleamed +from the eyes of the young man. +</P> + +<P> +"Let go of my hand!" he exclaimed. +</P> + +<P> +"No, I won't. Put up that brandy bottle—you're drunk now." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't meddle with me, old man!" angrily retorted Frank. "I'm not in +the mood to bear anything more from YOU." +</P> + +<P> +"You're drunk as a fool now," returned Slade, who had seized the +decanter. "Let go the bottle." +</P> + +<P> +For only an instant did the young man hesitate. Then he drove his +half-clenched hand against the breast of his father, who went +staggering several paces from the counter. Recovering himself, and now +almost furious, the landlord rushed forward upon his son, his hand +raised to strike him. +</P> + +<P> +"Keep off!" cried Frank. "Keep off! If you touch me, I'll strike you +down!" At the same time raising the half-filled bottle threateningly. +</P> + +<P> +But his father was in too maddened a state to fear any consequences, +and so pressed forward upon his son, striking him in the face the +moment he came near enough to do so. +</P> + +<P> +Instantly, the young man, infuriated by drink and evil passions, threw +the bottle at his father's head. The dangerous missile fell, crashing +upon one of his temples, shivering it into a hundred pieces. A heavy, +jarring fall too surely marked the fearful consequences of the blow. +When we gathered around the fallen man, and made an effort to lift him +from the floor, a thrill of horror went through every heart. A mortal +paleness was already on his marred face, and the death-gurgle in his +throat! In three minutes from the time the blow was struck, his spirit +had gone upward to give an account of the deeds done in the body. +</P> + +<P> +"Frank Slade! you have murdered your father!" +</P> + +<P> +Sternly were these terrible words uttered. It was some time before the +young man seemed to comprehend their meaning. But the moment he +realized the awful truth, he uttered an exclamation of horror. Almost +at the same instant, a pistol-shot came sharply on the ear. But the +meditated self-destruction was not accomplished. The aim was not surely +taken; and the ball struck harmlessly against the ceiling. +</P> + +<P> +Half an hour afterward, and Frank Slade was a lonely prisoner in the +county jail! +</P> + +<P> +Does the reader need a word of comment on this fearful consummation? +No; and we will offer none. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +NIGHT THE TENTH. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +THE CLOSING SCENE AT THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." +</H3> + +<P> +On the day that succeeded the evening of this fearful tragedy, placards +were to be seen all over the village, announcing a mass meeting at the +"Sickle and Sheaf" that night. +</P> + +<P> +By early twilight, the people commenced assembling. The bar, which had +been closed all day, was now thrown open, and lighted; and in this +room, where so much of evil had been originated, encouraged and +consummated, a crowd of earnest-looking men were soon gathered. Among +them I saw the fine person of Mr. Hargrove. Joe Morgan—or rather, Mr. +Morgan—was also one of the number. The latter I would scarcely have +recognized, had not some one near me called him by name. He was well +dressed, stood erect, and though there were many deep lines on his +thoughtful countenance, all traces of his former habits were gone. +While I was observing him, he arose, and addressing a few words to the +assemblage, nominated Mr. Hargrove as chairman of the meeting. To this +a unanimous assent was given. +</P> + +<P> +On taking the chair, Mr. Hargrove made a brief address, something to +this effect. +</P> + +<P> +"Ten years ago," said he, his voice evincing a slight unsteadiness as +he began, but growing firmer as he proceeded, "there was not a happier +spot in Bolton county than Cedarville. Now, the marks of ruin are +everywhere. Ten years ago, there was a kind-hearted, industrious miller +in Cedarville, liked by every one, and as harmless as a little child. +Now, his bloated, disfigured body lies in that room. His death was +violent, and by the hand of his own son!" +</P> + +<P> +Mr. Hargrove's words fell slowly, distinctly, and marked by the most +forcible emphasis. There was scarcely one present who did not feel a +low shudder run along his nerves, as the last words were spoken in a +husky whisper. +</P> + +<P> +"Ten years ago," he proceeded, "the miller had a happy wife, and two +innocent, glad-hearted children. Now, his wife, bereft of reason, is in +a mad-house, and his son the occupant of a felon's cell, charged with +the awful crime of parricide!" +</P> + +<P> +Briefly he paused, while his audience stood gazing upon him with +half-suspended respiration. +</P> + +<P> +"Ten years ago," he went on, "Judge Hammond was accounted the richest +man in Cedarville. Yesterday he was carried, a friendless pauper, to +the Alms-house; and to-day he is the unmourned occupant of a pauper's +grave! Ten years ago, his wife was the proud, hopeful, loving mother of +a most promising son. I need not describe what Willy Hammond was. All +here knew him well. Ah! what shattered the fine intellect of that +noble-minded woman? Why did her heart break? Where is she? Where is +Willy Hammond?" +</P> + +<P> +A low, half-repressed groan answered the speaker. +</P> + +<P> +"Ten years ago, you, sir," pointing to a sad-looking old man, and +calling him by name, "had two sons—generous, promising, manly-hearted +boys. What are they now? You need not answer the question. Too well is +their history and your sorrow known. Ten years ago, I had a +son,—amiable, kind, loving, but weak. Heaven knows how I sought to +guard and protect him! But he fell also. The arrows of destruction +darkened the very air of our once secure and happy village. And who is +safe? Not mine, nor yours! +</P> + +<P> +"Shall I go on? Shall I call up and pass in review before you, one +after another, all the wretched victims who have fallen in Cedarville +during the last ten years? Time does not permit. It would take hours +for the enumeration! No; I will not throw additional darkness into the +picture. Heaven knows it is black enough already! But what is the root +of this great evil? Where lies the fearful secret? Who understands the +disease? A direful pestilence is in the air—it walketh in darkness, +and wasteth at noonday. It is slaying the first-born in our houses, and +the cry of anguish is swelling on every gale. Is there no remedy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes! yes! There is a remedy!" was the spontaneous answer from many +voices. +</P> + +<P> +"Be it our task, then, to find and apply it this night," answered the +chairman, as he took his seat. +</P> + +<P> +"And there is but one remedy," said Morgan, as Mr. Hargrove sat down. +"The accursed traffic must cease among us. You must cut off the +fountain, if you would dry up the stream. If you would save the young, +the weak, and the innocent—on you God has laid the solemn duty of +their protection—you must cover them from the tempter. Evil is strong, +wily, fierce, and active in the pursuit of its ends. The young, the +weak, and the innocent can no more resist its assaults, than the lamb +can resist the wolf. They are helpless, if you abandon them to the +powers of evil. Men and brethren! as one who has himself been well-nigh +lost—as one who, daily, feels and trembles at the dangers that beset +his path—I do conjure you to stay the fiery stream that is bearing +every thing good and beautiful among you to destruction. Fathers! for +the sake of your young children, be up now and doing. Think of Willy +Hammond, Frank Slade, and a dozen more whose names I could repeat, and +hesitate no longer! Let us resolve, this night, that from henceforth +the traffic shall cease in Cedarville. Is there not a large majority of +citizens in favor of such a measure? And whose rights or interests can +be affected by such a restriction? Who, in fact, has any right to sow +disease and death in our community? The liberty, under sufferance, to +do so, wrongs the individual who uses it, as well as those who become +his victims. Do you want proof of this? Look at Simon Slade, the happy, +kind-hearted miller; and at Simon Slade, the tavern-keeper. Was he +benefited by the liberty to work harm to his neighbor? No! no! In +heaven's name, then, let the traffic cease! To this end, I offer these +resolutions:— +</P> + +<P> +"Be it resolved by the inhabitants of Cedarville, That from this day +henceforth, no more intoxicating drink shall be sold within the limits +of the corporation. +</P> + +<P> +"Resolved, further, That all the liquors in the 'Sickle and Sheaf' be +forthwith destroyed, and that a fund be raised to pay the creditors of +Simon Slade therefor, should they demand compensation. +</P> + +<P> +"Resolved, That in closing up all other places where liquor is sold, +regard shall be had to the right of property which the law secures to +every man. +</P> + +<P> +"Resolved, That with the consent of the legal authorities, all the +liquor for sale in Cedarville be destroyed, provided the owners thereof +be paid its full value out of a fund specially raised for that purpose." +</P> + +<P> +But for the calm yet resolute opposition of one or two men, these +resolutions would have passed by acclamation. A little sober argument +showed the excited company that no good end is ever secured by the +adoption of wrong means. +</P> + +<P> +There were, in Cedarville, regularly constituted authorities, which +alone had the power to determine public measures, or to say what +business might or might not be pursued by individuals. And through +these authorities they must act in an orderly way. +</P> + +<P> +There was some little chafing at this view of the case. But good sense +and reason prevailed. Somewhat modified, the resolutions passed, and +the more ultra-inclined contented themselves with carrying out the +second resolution, to destroy forthwith all the liquor to be found on +the premises; which was immediately done. After which the people +dispersed to their homes, each with a lighter heart, and better hopes +for the future of their village. +</P> + +<P> +On the next day, as I entered the stage that was to bear me from +Cedarville, I saw a man strike his sharp axe into the worn, faded, and +leaning post that had, for so many years, borne aloft the "Sickle and +Sheaf"; and, just as the driver gave word to his horses, the false +emblem which had invited so many to enter the way of destruction, fell +crashing to the earth. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="finis"> +THE END. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Ten Nights in a Bar Room, by T. S. 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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: Ten Nights in a Bar Room + +Author: T. S. Arthur + +Posting Date: September 11, 2009 [EBook #4744] +Release Date: December, 2003 +First Posted: March 12, 2002 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + +TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM + + +BY + +T. S. ARTHUR + + + +CONTENTS + + NIGHT THE FIRST--THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." + NIGHT THE SECOND--THE CHANGES OF A YEAR. + NIGHT THE THIRD--JOE MORGAN'S CHILD. + NIGHT THE FOURTH--DEATH OF LITTLE MARY MORGAN. + NIGHT THE FIFTH--SOME OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF TAVERN-KEEPING. + NIGHT THE SIXTH--MORE CONSEQUENCES. + NIGHT THE SEVENTH--SOWING THE WIND. + NIGHT THE EIGHTH--REAPING THE WHIRLWIND. + NIGHT THE NINTH--A FEARFUL CONSUMMATION. + NIGHT THE TENTH--THE CLOSING SCENE AT THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." + + + + +NIGHT THE FIRST. + +THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." + + +Ten years ago, business required me to pass a day in Cedarville. It was +late in the afternoon when the stage set me down at the "Sickle and +Sheaf," a new tavern, just opened by a new landlord, in a new house, +built with the special end of providing "accommodations for man and +beast." As I stepped from the dusty old vehicle in which I had been +jolted along a rough road for some thirty miles, feeling tired and +hungry, the good-natured face of Simon Slade, the landlord, beaming as +it did with a hearty welcome, was really a pleasant sight to see, and +the grasp of his hand was like that of a true friend. + +I felt as I entered the new and neatly furnished sitting-room adjoining +the bar, that I had indeed found a comfortable resting-place after my +wearisome journey. + +"All as nice as a new pin," said I, approvingly, as I glanced around +the room, up to the ceiling--white as the driven snow--and over the +handsomely carpeted floor. "Haven't seen anything so inviting as this. +How long have you been open?" + +"Only a few months," answered the gratified landlord. "But we are not +yet in good going order. It takes time, you know, to bring everything +into the right shape. Have you dined yet?" + +"No. Everything looked so dirty at the stage-house, where we stopped to +get dinner, that I couldn't venture upon the experiment of eating. How +long before your supper will be ready?" + +"In an hour," replied the landlord. + +"That will do. Let me have a nice piece of tender steak, and the loss +of dinner will soon be forgotten." + +"You shall have that, cooked fit for an alderman," said the landlord. +"I call my wife the best cook in Cedarville." + +As he spoke, a neatly dressed girl, about sixteen years of age, with +rather an attractive countenance, passed through the room. + +"My daughter," said the landlord, as she vanished through the door. +There was a sparkle of pride in the father's eyes, and a certain +tenderness in the tones of his voice, as he said "My daughter" that +told me she was very dear to him. + +"You are a happy man to have so fair a child," said I, speaking more in +compliment than with a careful choice of words. + +"I am a happy man," was the landlord's smiling answer; his fair, round +face, unwrinkled by a line of care or trouble, beaming with +self-satisfaction. "I have always been a happy man, and always expect +to be. Simon Slade takes the world as it comes, and takes it easy. My +son, sir," he added, as a boy, in his twelfth year, came in. "Speak to +the gentleman." + +The boy lifted to mine a pair of deep blue eyes, from which innocence +beamed, as he offered me his hand, and said, respectfully--"How do you +do, sir?" I could not but remark the girl-like beauty of his face, in +which the hardier firmness of the boy's character was already visible. + +"What is your name?" I asked. + +"Frank, sir." + +"Frank is his name," said the landlord--"we called him after his uncle. +Frank and Flora--the names sound pleasant to the ears. But you know +parents are apt to be a little partial and over fond." + +"Better that extreme than its opposite," I remarked. + +"Just what I always say. Frank, my son,"--the landlord spoke to the +boy--"there's some one in the bar. You can wait on him as well as I +can." + +The lad glided from the room in ready obedience. + +"A handy boy that, sir; a very handy boy. Almost as good, in the bar as +a man. He mixes a toddy or a punch just as well as I can." + +"But," I suggested, "are you not a little afraid of placing one so +young in the way of temptation?" + +"Temptation!" The open brows of Simon Slade contracted a little. "No, +sir!" he replied, emphatically. "The till is safer under his care than +it would be in that of one man in ten. The boy comes, sir, of honest +parents. Simon Slade never wronged anybody out of a farthing." + +"Oh," said I, quickly, "you altogether misapprehend me. I had no +reference to the till, but to the bottle." + +The landlord's brows were instantly unbent, and a broad smile circled +over his good-humored face. + +"Is that all? Nothing to fear, I can assure you. Frank has no taste for +liquor, and might pour it out for mouths without a drop finding its way +to his lips. Nothing to apprehend there, sir--nothing." + +I saw that further suggestions of danger would be useless, and so +remained silent. The arrival of a traveler called away the landlord, +and I was left alone for observation and reflection. The bar adjoined +the neat sitting-room, and I could see, through the open door, the +customer upon whom the lad was attending. He was a well-dressed young +man--or rather boy, for he did not appear to be over nineteen years of +age--with a fine, intelligent face, that was already slightly marred by +sensual indulgence. He raised the glass to his lips, with a quick, +almost eager motion, and drained it at a single draught. + +"Just right," said he, tossing a sixpence to the young bar-tender. "You +are first rate at a brandy-toddy. Never drank a better in my life." + +The lad's smiling face told that he was gratified by the compliment. To +me the sight was painful, for I saw that this youthful tippler was on +dangerous ground. + +"Who is that young man in the bar?" I asked, a few minutes afterward, +on being rejoined by the landlord. + +Simon Slade stepped to the door and looked into the bar for a moment. + +Two or three men were there by this time; but he was at no loss in +answering my question. + +"Oh, that's a son of Judge Hammond, who lives in the large brick house +as you enter the village. Willy Hammond, as everybody familiarly calls +him, is about the finest young man in our neighborhood. There is +nothing proud or put-on about him--nothing--even if his father is a +judge, and rich into the bargain. Every one, gentle or simple, likes +Willy Hammond. And then he is such good company. Always so cheerful, +and always with a pleasant story on his tongue. And he's so +high-spirited withal, and so honorable. Willy Hammond would lose his +right hand rather than be guilty of a mean action." + +"Landlord!" The voice came loud from the road in front of the house, +and Simon Slade again left me to answer the demands of some new-comer. +I went into the bar-room, in order to take a closer observation of +Willy Hammond, in whom an interest, not unmingled with concern, had +already been awakened in my mind. I found him engaged in a pleasant +conversation with a plain-looking farmer, whose homely, terse, common +sense was quite as conspicuous as his fine play of words and lively +fancy. The farmer was a substantial conservative, and young Hammond a +warm admirer of new ideas and the quicker adaptation of means to ends. +I soon saw that his mental powers were developed beyond his years, +while his personal qualities were strongly attractive. I understood +better, after being a silent listener and observer for ten minutes, why +the landlord had spoken of him so warmly. + +"Take a brandy-toddy, Mr. H--?" said Hammond, after the discussion +closed, good humoredly. "Frank, our junior bar-keeper here, beats his +father, in that line." + +"I don't care if I do," returned the farmer; and the two passed up to +the bar. + +"Now, Frank, my boy, don't belie my praises," said the young man; "do +your handsomest." + +"Two brandy-toddies, did you say?" Frank made inquiry with quite a +professional air. + +"Just what I did say; and let them be equal to Jove's nectar." + +Pleased at this familiarity, the boy went briskly to his work of mixing +the tempting compound, while Hammond looked on with an approving smile. + +"There," said the latter, as Frank passed the glasses across the +counter, "if you don't call that first-rate, you're no judge." And he +handed one of them to the farmer, who tasted the agreeable draught, and +praised its flavor. As before, I noticed that Hammond drank eagerly, +like one athirst--emptying his glass without once taking it from his +lips. + +Soon after the bar-room was empty; and then I walked around the +premises, in company with the landlord, and listened to his praise of +everything and his plans and purposes for the future. The house, yard, +garden, and out-buildings were in the most perfect order; presenting, +in the whole, a model of a village tavern. + +"Whatever I do, sir," said the talkative Simon Slade, "I like to do +well. I wasn't just raised to tavern-keeping, you must know; but I am +one who can turn his hand to almost any thing." + +"What was your business?" I inquired. + +"I'm a miller, sir, by trade," he answered--"and a better miller, +though I say it myself, is not to be found in Bolton county. I've +followed milling these twenty years, and made some little money. But I +got tired of hard work, and determined to lead an easier life. So I +sold my mill, and built this house with the money. I always thought I'd +like tavern-keeping. It's an easy life; and, if rightly seen after, one +in which a man is sure to make money." + +"You were still doing a fair business with your mill?" + +"Oh, yes. Whatever I do, I do right. Last year, I put by a thousand +dollars above all expenses, which is not bad, I can assure you, for a +mere grist mill. If the present owner comes out even, he'll do well!" + +"How is that?" + +"Oh, he's no miller. Give him the best wheat that is grown, and he'll +ruin it in grinding. He takes the life out of every grain. I don't +believe he'll keep half the custom that I transferred with the mill." + +"A thousand dollars, clear profit, in so useful a business, ought to +have satisfied you," said I. + +"There you and I differ," answered the landlord. "Every man desires to +make as much money as possible, and with the least labor. I hope to +make two or three thousand dollars a year, over and above all expenses, +at tavern-keeping. My bar alone ought to yield me that sum. A man with +a wife and children very naturally tries to do as well by them as +possible." + +"Very true; but," I ventured to suggest, "will this be doing as well by +them as if you had kept on at the mill?" + +"Two or three thousand dollars a year against one thousand! Where are +your figures, man?" + +"There may be something beyond money to take into the account," said I. + +"What?" inquired Slade, with a kind of half credulity. + +"Consider the different influences of the two callings in life--that of +a miller and a tavern-keeper." + +"Well, say on." + +"Will your children be as safe from temptation here as in their former +home?" + +"Just as safe," was the unhesitating answer. "Why not?" + +I was about to speak of the alluring glass in the case of Frank, but +remembering that I had already expressed a fear in that direction, felt +that to do so again would be useless, and so kept silent. + +"A tavern-keeper," said Slade, "is just as respectable as a miller--in +fact, the very people who used to call me 'Simon' or 'Neighbor +Dustycoat,' now say 'Landlord,' or 'Mr. Slade,' and treat me in every +way more as if I were an equal than ever they did before." + +"The change," said I, "may be due to the fact of your giving evidence +of possessing some means. Men are very apt to be courteous to those who +have property. The building of the tavern has, without doubt, +contributed to the new estimation in which you are held." + +"That isn't all," replied the landlord. "It is because I am keeping a +good tavern, and thus materially advancing the interests of Cedarville, +that some of our best people look at me with different eyes." + +"Advancing the interests of Cedarville! In what way?" I did not +apprehend his meaning. + +"A good tavern always draws people to a place, while a miserable old +tumble-down of an affair, badly kept, such as we have had for years, as +surely repels them. You can generally tell something about the +condition of a town by looking at its taverns. If they are well kept, +and doing a good business, you will hardly be wrong in the conclusion +that the place is thriving. Why, already, since I built and opened the +'Sickle and Sheaf,' property has advanced over twenty per cent along +the whole street, and not less than five new houses have been +commenced." + +"Other causes, besides the simple opening of a new tavern, may have +contributed to this result," said I. + +"None of which I am aware. I was talking with Judge Hammond only +yesterday--he owns a great deal of ground on the street--and he did not +hesitate to say, that the building and opening of a good tavern here +had increased the value of his property at least five thousand dollars. +He said, moreover, that he thought the people of Cedarville ought to +present me with a silver pitcher; and that, for one, he would +contribute ten dollars for that purpose." + +The ringing of the supper bell interrupted further conversation; and +with the best of appetites, I took my way to the room, where a +plentiful meal was spread. As I entered, I met the wife of Simon Slade, +just passing out, after seeing that every thing was in order. I had not +observed her before; and now could not help remarking that she had a +flushed, excited countenance, as if she had been over a hot fire, and +was both worried and fatigued. And there was, moreover, a peculiar +expression of the mouth, never observed in one whose mind is entirely +at ease--an expression that once seen is never forgotten. The face +stamped itself instantly on my memory; and I can even now recall it +with almost the original distinctness. How strongly it contrasted with +that of her smiling, self-satisfied husband, who took his place at the +head of his table with an air of conscious importance. I was too hungry +to talk much, and so found greater enjoyment in eating than in +conversation. The landlord had a more chatty guest by his side, and I +left them to entertain each other, while I did ample justice to the +excellent food with which the table was liberally provided. + +After supper I went to the sitting-room, and remained there until the +lamps were lighted. A newspaper occupied my time for perhaps half an +hour; then the buzz of voices from the adjoining bar-room, which had +been increasing for some time, attracted my attention, and I went in +there to see and hear what was passing. The first person upon whom my +eyes rested was young Hammond, who sat talking with a man older than +himself by several years. At a glance, I saw that this man could only +associate himself with Willy Hammond as a tempter. Unscrupulous +selfishness was written all over his sinister countenance; and I +wondered that it did not strike every one, as it did me, with instant +repulsion. There could not be, I felt certain, any common ground of +association, for two such persons, but the dead level of a village +bar-room. I afterward learned, during the evening, that this man's name +was Harvey Green, and that he was an occasional visitor at Cedarville, +remaining a few days, or a few weeks at a time, as appeared to suit his +fancy, and having no ostensible business or special acquaintance with +anybody in the village. + +"There is one thing about him," remarked Simon Slade, in answering some +question that I put in reference to the man, "that I don't object to; +he has plenty of money, and is not at all niggardly in spending it. He +used to come here, so he told me, about once in five or six months; but +his stay at the miserably kept tavern, the only one then in Cedarville, +was so uncomfortable, that he had pretty well made up his mind never to +visit us again. Now, however, he has engaged one of my best rooms, for +which he pays me by the year, and I am to charge him full board for the +time he occupies it. He says that there is something about Cedarville +that always attracts him; and that his health is better while here than +it is anywhere except South during the winter season. He'll never leave +less than two or three hundred dollars a year in our village--there is +one item, for you, of advantage to a place in having a good tavern." + +"What is his business?" I asked. "Is he engaged in any trading +operations?" + +The landlord shrugged his shoulders, and looked slightly mysterious, as +he answered: + +"I never inquire about the business of a guest. My calling is to +entertain strangers. If they are pleased with my house, and pay my +bills on presentation, I have no right to seek further. As a miller, I +never asked a customer, whether he raised, bought, or stole his wheat. +It was my business to grind it, and I took care to do it well. Beyond +that, it was all his own affair. And so it will be in my new calling. I +shall mind my own business and keep my own place." + +Besides young Hammond and this Harvey Green, there were in the +bar-room, when I entered, four others besides the landlord. Among these +was a Judge Lyman--so he was addressed--a man between forty and fifty +years of age, who had a few weeks before received the Democratic +nomination for member of Congress. He was very talkative and very +affable, and soon formed a kind of centre of attraction to the bar-room +circle. Among other topics of conversation that came up was the new +tavern, introduced by the landlord, in whose mind it was, very +naturally, the uppermost thought. + +"The only wonder to me is," said Judge Lyman, "that nobody had wit +enough to see the advantage of a good tavern in Cedarville ten years +ago, or enterprise enough to start one. I give our friend Slade the +credit of being a shrewd, far-seeing man; and, mark my word for it, in +ten years from to-day he will be the richest man in the county." + +"Nonsense--Ho! ho!" Simon Slade laughed outright. "The richest man! You +forget Judge Hammond." + +"No, not even Judge Hammond, with all deference for our clever friend +Willy," and Judge Lyman smiled pleasantly on the young man. + +"If he gets richer, somebody will be poorer!" The individual who +tittered these words had not spoken before, and I turned to look at him +more closely. A glance showed him to be one of a class seen in all +bar-rooms; a poor, broken-down inebriate, with the inward power of +resistance gone--conscious of having no man's respect, and giving +respect to none. There was a shrewd twinkle in his eyes, as he fixed +them on Slade, that gave added force to the peculiar tone in which his +brief but telling sentence was uttered. I noticed a slight contraction +on the landlord's ample forehead, the first evidence I had yet seen of +ruffled feelings. The remark, thrown in so untimely (or timely, some +will say), and with a kind of prophetic malice, produced a temporary +pause in the conversation. No one answered or questioned the intruder, +who, I could perceive, silently enjoyed the effect of his words. But +soon the obstructed current ran on again. + +"If our excellent friend, Mr. Slade," said Harvey Green, "is not the +richest man in Cedarville at the end of ten years, he will at least +enjoy the satisfaction of having made his town richer." + +"A true word that," replied Judge Lyman--"as true a word as ever was +spoken. What a dead-and-alive place this has been until within the last +few months. All vigorous growth had stopped, and we were actually going +to seed." + +"And the graveyard, too," muttered the individual who had before +disturbed the self-satisfied harmony of the company, remarking upon the +closing sentence of Harvey Green. "Come, landlord," he added, as he +strode across to the bar, speaking in a changed, reckless sort of a +way, "fix me up a good hot whisky-punch, and do it right; and here's +another sixpence toward the fortune you are bound to make. It's the +last one left--not a copper more in my pockets," and he turned them +inside-out, with a half-solemn, half-ludicrous air. "I send it to keep +company in your till with four others that have found their way into +that snug place since morning, and which will be lonesome without their +little friend." + +I looked at Simon Slade; his eyes rested on mine for a moment or two, +and then sunk beneath my earnest gaze. I saw that his countenance +flushed, and that his motions were slightly confused. The incident, it +was plain, did not awaken agreeable thoughts. Once I saw his hand move +toward the sixpence that lay upon the counter; but whether to push it +back or draw it toward the till, I could not determine. The +whisky-punch was in due time ready, and with it the man retired to a +table across the room, and sat down to enjoy the tempting beverage. As +he did so, the landlord quietly swept the poor unfortunate's last +sixpence into his drawer. The influence of this strong potation was to +render the man a little more talkative. To the free conversation +passing around him he lent an attentive ear, dropping in a word, now +and then, that always told upon the company like a well-directed blow. +At last, Slade lost all patience with him, and said, a little fretfully: + +"Look here, Joe Morgan, if you will be ill-natured, pray go somewhere +else, and not interrupt good feeling among gentlemen." + +"Got my last sixpence," retorted Joe, turning his pockets inside-out +again. "No more use for me here to-night. That's the way of the world. +How apt a scholar is our good friend Dustycoat, in this new school! +Well, he was a good miller--no one ever disputed that--and it's plain +to see that he is going to make a good landlord. I thought his heart +was a little too soft; but the indurating process has begun, and, in +less than ten years, if it isn't as hard as one of his old mill-stones, +Joe Morgan is no prophet. Oh, you needn't knit your brows so, friend +Simon, we're old friends; and friends are privileged to speak plain." + +"I wish you'd go home. You're not yourself tonight," said the landlord, +a little coaxingly, for he saw that nothing was to be gained by +quarreling with Morgan. "Maybe my heart is growing harder," he added, +with affected good-humor; "and it is time, perhaps. One of my +weaknesses, I have heard even you say, was being too woman-hearted." + +"No danger of that now," retorted Joe Morgan. "I've known a good many +landlords in my time, but can't remember one that was troubled with the +disease that once afflicted you." + +Just at this moment the outer door was pushed open with a slow, +hesitating motion; then a little pale face peered in, and a pair of +soft blue eyes went searching about the room. Conversation was +instantly hushed, and every face, excited with interest, turned toward +the child, who had now stepped through the door. She was not over ten +years of age; but it moved the heart to look upon the saddened +expression of her young countenance, and the forced bravery therein, +that scarcely overcame the native timidity so touchingly visible. + +"Father!" I have never heard this word spoken in a voice that sent such +a thrill along every nerve. It was full of sorrowful love--full of a +tender concern that had its origin too deep for the heart of a child. +As she spoke, the little one sprang across the room, and laying her +hands upon the arm of Joe Morgan, lifted her eyes, that were ready to +gush over with tears, to his face. + +"Come father! won't you come home?" I hear that low, pleading voice +even now, and my heart gives a quicker throb. Poor child! Darkly +shadowed was the sky that bent gloomily over thy young life. + +Morgan arose, and suffered the child to lead him from the room. He +seemed passive in her hands. I noticed that he thrust his fingers +nervously into his pocket, and that a troubled look went over his face +as they were withdrawn. His last sixpence was in the till of Simon +Slade! + +The first man who spoke was Harvey Green, and this not for a minute +after the father and his child had vanished through the door. + +"If I was in your place, landlord"--his voice was cold and +unfeeling--"I'd pitch that fellow out of the bar-room the next time he +stepped through the door. He's no business here, in the first place; +and, in the second, he doesn't know how to behave himself. There's no +telling how much a vagabond like him injures a respectable house." + +"I wish he would stay away," said Simon, with a perplexed air. + +"I'd make him stay away," answered Green. + +"That may be easier said than done," remarked Judge Lyman. "Our friend +keeps a public-house, and can't just say who shall or shall not come +into it." + +"But such a fellow has no business here. He's a good-for-nothing sot. +If I kept a tavern, I'd refuse to sell him liquor." + +"That you might do," said Judge Lyman; "and I presume your hint will +not be lost on our friend Slade." + +"He will have liquor, so long as he can get a cent to buy it with," +remarked one of the company; "and I don't see why our landlord here, +who has gone to so much expense to fit up a tavern, shouldn't have the +sale of it as well as anybody else. Joe talks a little freely +sometimes; but no one can say that he is quarrelsome. You've got to +take him as he is, that's all." + +"I am one," retorted Harvey Green, with a slightly ruffled manner, "who +is never disposed to take people as they are when they choose to render +themselves disagreeable. If I was Mr. Slade, as I remarked in the +beginning, I'd pitch that fellow into the road the next time he put his +foot over my door step." + +"Not if I were present," remarked the other, coolly. + +Green was on his feet in a moment, and I saw, from the flash of his +eyes, that he was a man of evil passions. Moving a pace or two in the +direction of the other, he said sharply. + +"What is that, sir?" + +The individual against whom his anger was so suddenly aroused was +dressed plainly, and had the appearance of a working man. He was stout +and muscular. + +"I presume you heard my words. They were spoken distinctly," he +replied, not moving from where he sat, nor seeming to be in the least +disturbed. But there was a cool defiance in the tones of his voice and +in the steady look of his eyes. + +"You're an impertinent fellow, and I'm half tempted to chastise you." + +Green had scarcely finished the sentence, ere he was lying full length +upon the floor. The other had sprung upon him like a tiger, and with +one blow from his heavy fist, struck him down as if he had been a +child. For a moment or two, Green lay stunned and bewildered--then, +starting up with a savage cry, that sounded more bestial than human, he +drew a long knife from a concealed sheath, and attempted to stab his +assailant, but the murderous purpose was not accomplished, for the +other man, who had superior strength and coolness, saw the design, and +with a well directed blow almost broke the arm of Green, causing the +knife to leave his hand and glide far across the room. + +"I'm half tempted to wring your neck off," exclaimed the man, whose +name was Lyon, now much excited, and seizing Green by the throat, he +strangled him until his face grew black. "Draw a knife on me, ha! You +murdering villain!" And he gripped him tighter. + +Judge Lyman and the landlord now interfered, and rescued Green from the +hands of his fully aroused antagonist. For some time they stood +growling at each other, like two parted dogs struggling to get free, in +order to renew the conflict, but gradually cooled off. In a little +while Judge Lyman drew Green aside, and the two men left the bar-room +to other. In the door, as they were retiring, the former slightly +nodded to Willy Hammond, who soon followed them, going into the sitting +room, and from thence, as I could perceive, upstairs to an apartment +above. + +"Not after much good," I heard Lyon mutter to himself. "If Judge +Hammond don't look a little closer after that boy of his, he'll be +sorry for it, that's all." + +"Who is this Green?" I asked of Lyon, finding myself alone with him in +the bar-room soon after. + +"A blackleg, I take it," was his unhesitating answer. + +"Does Judge Lyman suspect his real character?" + +"I don't know anything about that, but I wouldn't be afraid to bet ten +dollars, that if you could look in upon them now, you would find cards +in their hands." + +"What a school, and what teachers for the youth who just went with +them!" I could not help remarking. + +"Willy Hammond?" + +"Yes." + +"You may well say that. What can his father be thinking about to leave +him exposed to such influences!" + +"He's one of the few who are in raptures about this tavern, because its +erection has slightly increased the value of his property about here, +but if he is not the loser of fifty per cent for every one gained, +before ten years go by, I'm very much in error." + +"How so?" + +"It will prove, I fear, the open door to ruin to his son." + +"That's bad," said I. + +"Bad! It is awful to think of. There is not a finer young man in the +country, nor one with better mind and heart, than Willy Hammond. So +much the sadder will be his destruction. Ah, sir! this tavern-keeping +is a curse to any place." + +"But I thought, just now, that you spoke in favor of letting even the +poor drunkard's money go into the landlord's till, in order to +encourage his commendable enterprise in opening so good a tavern." + +"We all speak with covert irony sometimes," answered the man, "as I did +then. Poor Joe Morgan! He is an old and early friend of Simon Slade. +They were boys together, and worked as millers under the same roof for +many years. In fact, Joe's father owned the mill, and the two learned +their trade with him. When old Morgan died, the mill came into Joe's +hands. It was in rather a worn-out condition, and Joe went in debt for +some pretty thorough repairs and additions of machinery. By and by, +Simon Slade, who was hired by Joe to run the mill, received a couple of +thousand dollars at the death of an aunt. This sum enabled him to buy a +share in the mill, which Morgan was very glad to sell in order to get +clear of his debt. Time passed on, and Joe left his milling interest +almost entirely in the care of Slade, who, it must be said in his +favor, did not neglect the business. But it somehow happened--I will +not say unfairly--that at the end of ten years, Joe Morgan no longer +owned a share in the mill. The whole property was in the hands of +Slade. People did not much wonder at this; for while Slade was always +to be found at the mill, industrious, active, and attentive to +customers, Morgan was rarely seen on the premises. You would oftener +find him in the woods, with a gun over his shoulder, or sitting by a +trout brook, or lounging at the tavern. And yet everybody liked Joe, +for he was companionable, quick-witted, and very kind-hearted. He would +say sharp things, sometimes, when people manifested little meannesses; +but there was so much honey in his gall, that bitterness rarely +predominated. + +"A year or two before his ownership in the mill ceased, Morgan married +one of the sweetest girls in our town--Fanny Ellis, that was her name, +and she could have had her pick of the young men. Everybody affected to +wonder at her choice; and yet nobody really did wonder, for Joe was an +attractive young man, take him as you would, and just the one to win +the heart of a girl like Fanny. What if he had been seen, now and then, +a little the worse for drink! What if he showed more fondness for +pleasure than for business! Fanny did not look into the future with +doubt or fear. She believed that her love was strong enough to win him +from all evil allurements: and, as for this world's goods, they were +matters in which her maiden fancies rarely busied themselves. + +"Well. Dark days came for her, poor soul! And yet, in all the darkness +of her earthly lot, she has never, it is said, been anything but a +loving, forbearing, self-denying wife to Morgan. And he--fallen as he +is, and powerless in the grasp of the monster intemperance--has never, +I am sure, hurt her with a cruel word. Had he added these, her heart +would, long ere this, have broken. Poor Joe Morgan! Poor Fanny! Oh, +what a curse is this drink!" + +The man, warming with his theme, had spoken with an eloquence I had not +expected from his lips. Slightly overmastered by his feelings, he +paused for a moment or two, and then added: + +"It was unfortunate for Joe, at least, that Slade sold his mill, and +became a tavern-keeper; for Joe had a sure berth, and wages regularly +paid. He didn't always stick to his work, but would go off on a spree +every now and then; but Slade bore with all this, and worked harder +himself to make up for his hand's shortcoming. And no matter what +deficiency the little store-room at home might show, Fanny Morgan never +found her meal barrel empty without knowing where to get it replenished. + +"But, after Slade sold his mill, a sad change took place. The new owner +was little disposed to pay wages to a hand who would not give him all +his time during working hours; and in less than two weeks from the day +he took possession, Morgan was discharged. Since then, he has been +working about at one odd job and another, earning scarcely enough to +buy the liquor it requires to feed the inordinate thirst that is +consuming him. I am not disposed to blame Simon Slade for the +wrong-doing of Morgan; but here is a simple fact in the case--if he had +kept on at the useful calling of a miller, he would have saved this +man's family from want, suffering, and a lower deep of misery than that +into which they have already fallen. I merely state it, and you can +draw your own conclusions. It is one of the many facts, on the other +side of this tavern question, which it will do no harm to mention. I +have noted a good many facts besides, and one is, that before Slade +opened the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' he did all in his power to save his +early friend from the curse of intemperance; now he has become his +tempter. Heretofore, it was his hand that provided the means for his +family to live in some small degree of comfort; now he takes the poor +pittance the wretched man earns, and dropping it in his till, forgets +the wife and children at home who are hungry for the bread this money +should have purchased. + +"Joe Morgan, fallen as he is, sir, is no fool. His mind sees quickly +yet; and he rarely utters a sentiment that is not full of meaning. When +he spoke of Blade's heart growing as hard in ten years as one of his +old mill-stones, he was not uttering words at random, nor merely +indulging in a harsh sentiment, little caring whether it were closely +applicable or not. That the indurating process had begun, he, alas! was +too sadly conscious." + +The landlord had been absent from the room for some time. He left soon +after Judge Lyman, Harvey Green, and Willy Hammond withdrew, and I did +not see him again during the evening. His son Frank was left to attend +at the bar; no very hard task, for not more than half a dozen called in +to drink from the time Morgan left until the bar was closed. + +While Mr. Lyon was giving me the brief history just recorded, I noticed +a little incident that caused a troubled feeling to pervade my mind. +After a man, for whom the landlord's son had prepared a fancy drink, +had nearly emptied his glass, he set it down upon the counter and went +out. A tablespoonful or two remained in the glass, and I noticed Frank, +after smelling at it two or three times, put the glass to his lips and +sip the sweetened liquor. The flavor proved agreeable; for, after +tasting it, he raised the glass again and drained every drop. + +"Frank!" I heard a low voice, in a warning tone, pronounce the name, +and glancing toward a door partly open, that led from the inside of the +bar to the yard, I saw the face of Mrs. Slade. It had the same troubled +expression I had noticed before, but now blended with anxiety. + +The boy went out at the call of his mother; and when a new customer +entered, I noticed that Flora, the daughter, came in to wait upon him. +I noticed, too, that while she poured out the liquor, there was a +heightened color on her face, in which I fancied that I saw a tinge of +shame. It is certain that she was not in the least gracious to the +person on whom she was waiting; and that there was little heart in her +manner of performing the task. + +Ten o'clock found me alone and musing in the barroom over the +occurrences of the evening. Of all the incidents, that of the entrance +of Joe Morgan's child kept the most prominent place in my thoughts. The +picture of that mournful little face was ever before me; and I seemed +all the while to hear the word "Father," uttered so touchingly, and yet +with such a world of childish tenderness. And the man, who would have +opposed the most stubborn resistance to his fellow-men, had they sought +to force him from the room, going passively, almost meekly out, led by +that little child--I could not, for a time, turn my thoughts from the +image thereof! And then thought bore me to the wretched home, back to +which the gentle, loving child had taken her father, and my heart grew +faint in me as imagination busied itself with all the misery there. + +And Willy Hammond. The little that I had heard and seen of him greatly +interested me in his favor. Ah! upon what dangerous ground was he +treading. How many pitfalls awaited his feet--how near they were to the +brink of a fearful precipice, down which to fall was certain +destruction. How beautiful had been his life-promise! How fair the +opening day of his existence! Alas! the clouds were gathering already, +and the low rumble of the distant thunder presaged the coming of a +fearful tempest. Was there none to warn him of the danger? Alas! all +might now come too late, for so few who enter the path in which his +steps were treading will hearken to friendly counsel, or heed the +solemn warning. Where was he now? This question recurred over and over +again. He had left the bar-room with Judge Lyman and Green early in the +evening, and had not made his appearance since. Who and what was Green? +And Judge Lyman, was he a man of principle? One with whom it was safe +to trust a youth like Willy Hammond? + +While I mused thus, the bar-room door opened, and a man past the prime +of life, with a somewhat florid face, which gave a strong relief to the +gray, almost white hair that, suffered to grow freely, was pushed back, +and lay in heavy masses on his coat collar, entered with a hasty step. +He was almost venerable in appearance; yet there was in his dark, quick +eyes the brightness of unquenched loves, the fires of which were +kindled at the altars of selfishness and sensuality. This I saw at a +glance. There was a look of concern on his face, as he threw his eyes +around the bar-room; and he seemed disappointed, I thought, at finding +it empty. + +"Is Simon Slade here?" + +As I answered in the negative, Mrs. Slade entered through the door that +opened from the yard, and stood behind the counter. + +"Ah, Mrs. Slade! Good evening, madam!" he said. + +"Good evening, Judge Hammond." + +"Is your husband at home?" + +"I believe he is," answered Mrs. Slade. "I think he is somewhere about +the house." + +"Ask him to step here, will you?" + +Mrs. Slade went out. Nearly five minutes went by, during which time +Judge Hammond paced the floor of the bar-room uneasily. Then the +landlord made his appearance. The free, open, manly, self-satisfied +expression of his countenance, which I had remarked on alighting from +the stage in the afternoon, was gone. I noticed at once the change, for +it was striking. He did not look steadily into the face of Judge +Hammond, who asked him, in a low voice, if his son had been there +during the evening. + +"He was here," said Slade. + +"When?" + +"He came in some time after dark and stayed, maybe, an hour." + +"And hasn't been here since?" + +"It's nearly two hours since he left the bar-room," replied the +landlord. + +Judge Hammond seemed perplexed. There was a degree of evasion in +Slade's manner that he could hardly help noticing. To me it was all +apparent, for I had lively suspicions that made my observation acute. + +Judge Hammond crossed his arms behind him, and took three or four +strides about the floor. + +"Was Judge Lyman here to-night?" he then asked. + +"He was," answered Slade. + +"Did he and Willy go out together?" + +The question seemed an unexpected one for the landlord. Slade appeared +slightly confused, and did not answer promptly. + +"I--I rather think they did," he said, after a brief hesitation. + +"Ah, well! Perhaps he is at Judge Lyman's. I will call over there." + +And Judge Hammond left the bar-room. + +"Would you like to retire, sir?" said the landlord, now turning to me, +with a forced smile--I saw that it was forced. + +"If you please," I answered. + +He lit a candle and conducted me to my room, where, overwearied with +the day's exertion, I soon fell asleep, and did not awake until the sun +was shining brightly into my windows. + +I remained at the village a portion of the day, but saw nothing of the +parties in whom the incidents of the previous evening had awakened a +lively interest. At four o'clock I left in the stage, and did not visit +Cedarville again for a year. + + + + +NIGHT THE SECOND. + +THE CHANGES OF A YEAR. + + +A cordial grasp of the hand and a few words of hearty welcome greeted +me as I alighted from the stage at the "Sickle and Sheaf," on my next +visit to Cedarville. At the first glance, I saw no change in the +countenance, manner, or general bearing of Simon Slade, the landlord. +With him, the year seemed to have passed like a pleasant summer day. +His face was round, and full, and rosy, and his eyes sparkled with that +good humor which flows from intense self-satisfaction. Everything about +him seemed to say--"All 'right with myself and the world." + +I had scarcely expected this. From what I saw during my last brief +sojourn at the "Sickle and Sheaf," the inference was natural, that +elements had been called into activity, which must produce changes +adverse to those pleasant states of mind that threw an almost perpetual +sunshine over the landlord's countenance. How many hundreds of times +had I thought of Tom Morgan and Willy Hammond--of Frank, and the +temptations to which a bar-room exposed him. The heart of Slade must, +indeed, be as hard as one of his old mill-stones, if he could remain an +unmoved witness of the corruption and degradation of these. + +"My fears have outrun the actual progress of things," said I to myself, +with a sense of relief, as I mused alone in the still neatly arranged +sitting-room, after the landlord, who sat and chatted for a few +minutes, had left me. "There is, I am willing to believe, a basis of +good in this man's character, which has led him to remove, as far as +possible, the more palpable evils that ever attach themselves to a +house of public entertainment. He had but entered on the business last +year. There was much to be learned, pondered, and corrected. +Experience, I doubt not, has led to many important changes in the +manner of conducting the establishment, and especially in what pertains +to the bar." + +As I thought thus, my eyes glanced through the half-open door, and +rested on the face of Simon Slade. He was standing behind his +bar--evidently alone in the room--with his head bent in a musing +attitude. At first I was in some doubt as to the identity of the +singularly changed countenance. Two deep perpendicular seams lay +sharply defined on his forehead--the arch of his eyebrows was gone, and +from each corner of his compressed lips, lines were seen reaching +half-way to the chin. Blending with a slightly troubled expression, was +a strongly marked selfishness, evidently brooding over the consummation +of its purpose. For some moments I sat gazing on his face, half +doubting at times if it were really that of Simon Slade. Suddenly a +gleam flashed over it--an ejaculation was uttered, and one clenched +hand brought down, with a sharp stroke, into the open palm of the +other. The landlord's mind had reached a conclusion, and was resolved +upon action. There were no warm rays in the gleam of light that +irradiated his countenance--at least none for my heart, which felt +under them an almost icy coldness. + +"Just the man I was thinking about." I heard the landlord say, as some +one entered the bar, while his whole manner underwent a sudden change. + +"The old saying is true," was answered in a voice, the tones of which +were familiar to my ears. + +"Thinking of the old Harry?" said Slade. + +"Yes." + +"True, literally, in the present case," I heard the landlord remark, +though in a much lower tone; "for, if you are not the devil himself, +you can't be farther removed than a second cousin." + +A low, gurgling laugh met this little sally. There was something in it +so unlike a human laugh, that it caused my blood to trickle, for a +moment, coldly along my veins. + +I heard nothing more except the murmur of voices in the bar, for a hand +shut the partly opened door that led from the sitting room. + +Whose was that voice? I recalled its tones, and tried to fix in my +thought the person to whom it belonged, but was unable to do so. I was +not very long in doubt, for on stepping out on the porch in front of +the tavern, the well remembered face of Harvey Green presented itself. +He stood in the bar-room door, and was talking earnestly to Slade, +whose back was toward me. I saw that he recognized me, although I had +not passed a word with him on the occasion of my former visit, and +there was a lighting up of his countenance as if about to speak--but I +withdrew my eyes from his face to avoid the unwelcome greeting. When I +looked at him again, I saw that he was regarding me with a sinister +glance, which was instantly withdrawn. In what broad, black characters +was the word TEMPTER written on his face! How was it possible for +anyone to look thereon, and not read the warning inscription! + +Soon after, he withdrew into the bar-room and the landlord came and +took a seat near me on the porch. + +"How is the 'Sickle and Sheaf' coming on?" I inquired. + +"First rate," was the answer--"First rate." + +"As well as you expected?" + +"Better." + +"Satisfied with your experiment?" + +"Perfectly. Couldn't get me back to the rumbling old mill again, if you +were to make me a present of it." + +"What of the mill?" I asked. "How does the new owner come on?" + +"About as I thought it would be." + +"Not doing very well?" + +"How could it be expected when he didn't know enough of the milling +business to grind a bushel of wheat right? He lost half of the custom I +transferred to him in less than three months. Then he broke his main +shaft, and it took over three weeks to get in a new one. Half of his +remaining customers discovered by this time, that they could get far +better meal from their grain at Harwood's mill near Lynwood, and so did +not care to trouble him any more. The upshot of the whole matter is, he +broke down next, and had to sell the mill at a heavy loss." + +"Who has it now?" + +"Judge Hammond is the purchaser." + +"He is going to rent it, I suppose?" + +"No; I believe he means to turn it into some kind of a factory--and, I +rather think, will connect therewith a distillery. This is a fine +grain-growing country, as you know. If he does set up a distillery +he'll make a fine thing of it. Grain has been too low in this section +for some years; this all the farmers have felt, and they are very much +pleased at the idea. It will help them wonderfully. I always thought my +mill a great thing for the farmers; but what I did for them was a mere +song compared to the advantage of an extensive distillery." + +"Judge Hammond is one of your richest men?" + +"Yes--the richest in the county. And what is more, he's a shrewd, +far-seeing man, and knows how to multiply his riches." + +"How is his son Willy coming on?" + +"Oh! first-rate." + +The landlord's eyes fell under the searching look I bent upon him. + +"How old is he now?" + +"Just twenty." + +"A critical age," I remarked. + +"So people say; but I didn't find it so," answered Slade, a little +distantly. + +"The impulses within and the temptations without, are the measure of +its dangers. At his age, you were, no doubt, daily employed at hard +work." + +"I was, and no mistake." + +"Thousands and hundreds of thousands are indebted to useful work, +occupying many hours through each day, and leaving them with wearied +bodies at night, for their safe passage from yielding youth to firm, +resisting manhood. It might not be with you as it is now, had leisure +and freedom to go in and out when you pleased been offered at the age +of nineteen." + +"I can't tell as to that," said the landlord, shrugging his shoulders. +"But I don't see that Willy Hammond is in any especial danger. He is a +young man with many admirable qualities--is social-liberal--generous +almost to a fault--but has good common sense, and wit enough, I take +it, to keep out of harm's way." + +A man passing the house at the moment, gave Simon Slade an opportunity +to break off a conversation that was not, I could see, altogether +agreeable. As he left me, I arose and stepped into the bar-room. Frank, +the landlord's son, was behind the bar. He had grown considerably in +the year--and from a rather delicate, innocent-looking boy, to a stout, +bold lad. His face was rounder, and had a gross, sensual expression, +that showed itself particularly about the mouth. The man Green was +standing beside the bar talking to him, and I noticed that Frank +laughed heartily, at some low, half obscene remarks that he was making. +In the midst of these, Flora, the sister of Frank, a really beautiful +girl, came in to get something from the bar. Green spoke to her +familiarly, and Flora answered him with a perceptibly heightening color. + +I glanced toward Frank, half expecting to see an indignant flush on his +young face. But no--he looked on with a smile! "Ah!" thought I, "have +the boy's pure impulses so soon died out in this fatal atmosphere? Can +he bear to see those evil eyes--he knows they are evil--rest upon the +face of his sister? or to hear those lips, only a moment since polluted +with vile words, address her with the familiarity of a friend?" + +"Fine girl, that sister of yours, Frank! Fine girl!" said Green, after +Flora had withdrawn--speaking of her with about as much respect in his +voice as if he were praising a fleet racer or a favorite hound. + +The boy smiled, with a pleased air. + +"I must try and find her a good husband, Frank. I wonder if she +wouldn't have me?" + +"You'd better ask her," said the boy, laughing. + +"I would if I thought there was any chance for me." + +"Nothing like trying. Faint heart never won fair lady," returned Frank, +more with the air of a man than a boy. How fast he was growing old! + +"A banter, by George!" exclaimed Green, slapping his hands together. +"You're a great boy, Frank! a great boy! I shall have to talk to your +father about you. Coming on too fast. Have to be put back in your +lessons--hey!" + +And Green winked at the boy, and shook his finger at him. Frank laughed +in a pleased way, as he replied: "I guess I'll do." + +"I guess you will," said Green, as, satisfied with his colloquy, he +turned off and left the bar-room. + +"Have something to drink, sir?" inquired Frank, addressing me in a +bold, free way. + +I shook my head. + +"Here's a newspaper," he added. + +I took the paper and sat down--not to read, but to observe. Two or +three men soon came in, and spoke in a very familiar way to Frank, who +was presently busy setting out the liquors they had called for. Their +conversation, interlarded with much that was profane and vulgar, was of +horses, horse-racing, gunning, and the like, to all of which the young +bar-tender lent an attentive ear, putting in a word now and then, and +showing an intelligence in such matters quite beyond his age. In the +midst thereof, Mr. Slade made his appearance. His presence caused a +marked change in Frank, who retired from his place among the men, a +step or two outside of the bar, and did not make a remark while his +father remained. It was plain from this, that Mr. Slade was not only +aware of Frank's dangerous precocity, but had already marked his +forwardness by rebuke. + +So far, all that I had seen and heard impressed me unfavorably, +notwithstanding the declaration of Simon Slade, that everything about +the "Sickle and Sheaf" was coming on "first-rate," and that he was +"perfectly satisfied" with his experiment. Why, even if the man had +gained, in money, fifty thousand dollars by tavern-keeping in a year, +he had lost a jewel in the innocence of his boy that was beyond all +valuation. "Perfectly satisfied?" Impossible! He was not perfectly +satisfied. How could he be? The look thrown upon Frank when he entered +the bar-room, and saw him "hale fellow, well met," with three or four +idle, profane, drinking customers, contradicted that assertion. + +After supper, I took a seat in the bar-room, to see how life moved on +in that place of rendezvous for the surface-population of Cedarville. +Interest enough in the characters I had met there a year before +remained for me to choose this way of spending the time, instead of +visiting at the house of a gentleman who had kindly invited me to pass +an evening with his family. + +The bar-room custom, I soon found, had largely increased in a year. It +now required, for a good part of the time, the active services of both +the landlord and his son to meet the calls for liquor. What pained me +most, was to see the large number of lads and young men who came in to +lounge and drink; and there was scarcely one of them whose face did not +show marks of sensuality, or whose language was not marred by +obscenity, profanity, or vulgar slang. The subjects of conversation +were varied enough, though politics was the most prominent. In regard +to politics I heard nothing in the least instructive; but only abuse of +individuals and dogmatism on public measures. They were all exceedingly +confident in assertion; but I listened in vain for exposition, or even +for demonstrative facts. He who asseverated in the most positive +manner, and swore the hardest, carried the day in the petty contests. + +I noticed, early in the evening, and at a time when all the inmates of +the room were in the best possible humor with themselves, the entrance +of an elderly man, on whose face I instantly read a deep concern. It +was one of those mild, yet strongly marked faces, that strike you at a +glance. The forehead was broad, the eyes large and far back in their +sockets, the lips full but firm. You saw evidences of a strong, but +well-balanced character. As he came in, I noticed a look of +intelligence pass from one to another; and then the eyes of two or +three were fixed upon a young man who was seated not far from me, with +his back to the entrance, playing at dominoes. He had a glass of ale by +his side. The old man searched about the room for some moments, before +his glance rested upon the individual I have mentioned. My eyes were +full upon his face, as he advanced toward him, as yet unseen. Upon it +was not a sign of angry excitement, but a most touching sorrow. + +"Edward!" he said, as he laid his hand gently on the young man's +shoulder. The latter started at the voice, and crimsoned deeply. A few +moments he sat irresolute. + +"Edward, my son!" It would have been a cold, hard heart indeed that +softened not under the melting tenderness of these tones. The call was +irresistible, and obedience a necessity. The powers of evil had, yet, +too feeble a grasp on the young man's heart to hold him in thrall. +Rising with a half-reluctant manner, and with a shamefacedness that it +was impossible to conceal, he retired as quietly as possible. The +notice of only a few in the bar-room was attracted by the incident. + +"I can tell you what," I heard the individual, with whom the young man +had been playing at dominoes, remark--himself not twenty years of +age--"if my old man were to make a fool of himself in this +way--sneaking around after me in bar-rooms-he'd get only his trouble +for his pains. I'd like to see him try it, though! There'd be a nice +time of it, I guess. Wouldn't I creep off with him, as meek as a lamb! +Ho! ho!" + +"Who is that old gentleman who came in just now?" I inquired of the +person who thus commented on the incident which had just occurred. + +"Mr. Hargrove is his name." + +"And that was his son?" + +"Yes; and I'm only sorry he doesn't possess a little more spirit." + +"How old is he?" + +"About twenty." + +"Not of legal age, then?" + +"He's old enough to be his own master." + +"The law says differently," I suggested. + +In answer, the young man cursed the law, snapping his fingers in its +imaginary face as he did so. + +"At least you will admit," said I, "that Edward Hargrove, in the use of +a liberty to go where he pleases, and do what he pleases, exhibits but +small discretion." + +"I will admit no such thing. What harm is there, I would like to know, +in a social little game such as we were playing? There were no +stakes--we were not gambling." + +I pointed to the half-emptied glass of ale left by young Hargrove. + +"Oh! oh!" half sneered, half laughed a man, twice the age of the one I +had addressed, who sat near by, listening to our conversation. I looked +at him for a moment, and then said: + +"The great danger lies there, without doubt. If it were only a glass of +ale and a game of dominoes--but it doesn't stop there, and well the +young man's father knows it." + +"Perhaps he does," was answered. "I remember him in his younger days; +and a pretty high boy he was. He didn't stop at a glass of ale and a +game of dominoes; not he! I've seen him as drunk as a lord many a time; +and many a time at a horse-race, or cock-fight, betting with the +bravest. I was only a boy, though a pretty old boy; but I can tell you, +Hargrove was no saint." + +"I wonder not, then, that he is so anxious for his son," was my remark. +"He knows well the lurking dangers in the path he seems inclined to +enter." + +"I don't see that they have done him much harm. He sowed his wild +oats--then got married, and settled down into a good, substantial +citizen. A little too religious and pharisaical, I always thought; but +upright in his dealings. He had his pleasures in early life, as was +befitting the season of youth--why not let his son taste of the same +agreeable fruit? He's wrong, sir--wrong! And I've said as much to Ned. +I only wish the boy had shown the right spunk this evening, and told +the old man to go home about his business." + +"So do I," chimed in the young disciple in this bad school. "It's what +I'd say to my old man, in double quick time, if he was to come hunting +after me." + +"He knows better than to do that," said the other, in a way that let me +deeper into the young man's character. + +"Indeed he does. He's tried his hand on me once or twice during the +last year, but found it wouldn't do, no how; Tom Peters is out of his +leading-strings." + +"And can drink his glass with any one, and not be a grain the worse for +it." + +"Exactly, old boy!" said Peters, slapping his preceptor on the knee. +"Exactly! I'm not one of your weak-headed ones. Oh no!" + +"Look here, Joe Morgan!"--the half-angry voice of Simon Slade now rung +through the bar-room,--"just take yourself off home!" + +I had not observed the entrance of this person. He was standing at the +bar, with an emptied glass in his hand. A year had made no improvement +in his appearance. On the contrary, his clothes were more worn and +tattered; his countenance more sadly marred. What he had said to +irritate the landlord, I know not; but Slade's face was fiery with +passion, and his eyes glared threateningly at the poor besotted one, +who showed not the least inclination to obey. + +"Off with you, I say! And never show your face here again. I won't have +such low vagabonds as you are about my house. If you can't keep decent +and stay decent, don't intrude yourself here." + +"A rum-seller talk of decency!" retorted Morgan. "Pah! You were a +decent man once, and a good miller into the bargain. But that time's +past and gone. Decency died out when you exchanged the pick and +facing-hammer for the glass and muddler. Decency! Pah! How you talk! As +if it were any more decent to sell rum than to drink it." + +There was so much of biting contempt in the tones, as well as the words +of the half-intoxicated man, that Slade, who had himself been drinking +rather more freely than usual, was angered beyond self-control. +Catching up an empty glass from the counter, he hurled it with all his +strength at the head of Joe Morgan. The missive just grazed one of his +temples, and flew by on its dangerous course. The quick sharp cry of a +child startled the air, followed by exclamations of alarm and horror +from many voices. + +"It's Joe Morgan's child!" "He's killed her!" "Good heavens!" Such were +the exclamations that rang through the room. I was among the first to +reach the spot where a little girl, just gliding in through the door, +had been struck on the forehead by the glass, which had cut a deep +gash, and stunned her into insensibility. The blood flowed instantly +from the wound, and covered her face, which presented a shocking +appearance. As I lifted her from the floor, upon which she had fallen, +Morgan, into whose very soul the piercing cry of his child had +penetrated, stood by my side, and grappled his arms around her +insensible form, uttering as he did so heart-touching moans and +lamentations. + +"What's the matter? Oh, what's the matter?" It was a woman's voice, +speaking in frightened tones. + +"It's nothing! Just go out, will you, Ann?" I heard the landlord say. + +But his wife--it was Mrs. Slade--having heard the shrieks of pain and +terror uttered by Morgan's child, had come running into the +bar-room--heeded not his words, but pressed forward into the little +group that stood around the bleeding girl. + +"Run for Doctor Green, Frank," she cried in an imperative voice, the +moment her eyes rested on the little one's bloody face. + +Frank came around from behind the bar, in obedience to the word; but +his father gave a partial countermand, and he stood still. Upon +observing which, his mother repeated the order, even more emphatically. + +"Why don't you jump, you young rascal!" exclaimed Harvey Green. "The +child may be dead before the doctor can get here." + +Frank hesitated no longer, but disappeared instantly through the door. + +"Poor, poor child!" almost sobbed Mrs. Slade, as she lifted the +insensible form from my arms. "How did it happen? Who struck her?" + +"Who? Curse him! Who but Simon Slade?" answered Joe Morgan, through his +clenched teeth. + +The look of anguish, mingled with bitter reproach, instantly thrown +upon the landlord by his wife, can hardly be forgotten by any who saw +it that night. + +"Oh, Simon! Simon! And has it come to this already?" What a world of +bitter memories, and sad forebodings of evil, did that little sentence +express. "To this already"--Ah! In the downward way, how rapidly the +steps do tread--how fast the progress! + +"Bring me a basin of water, and a towel, quickly!" she now exclaimed. + +The water was brought, and in a little while the face of the child lay +pure and as white as snow against her bosom. The wound from which the +blood had flowed so freely was found on the upper part of the forehead, +a little to the side, and extending several inches back, along the top +of the head. As soon as the blood stains were wiped away, and the +effusion partially stopped, Mrs. Slade carried the still insensible +body into the next room, whither the distressed, and now completely +sobered father, accompanied her. I went with them, but Slade remained +behind. + +The arrival of the doctor was soon followed by the restoration of life +to the inanimate body. He happened to be at home, and came instantly. +He had just taken the last stitch in the wound, which required to be +drawn together, and was applying strips of adhesive plaster, when the +hurried entrance of some one caused me to look up. What an apparition +met my eyes! A woman stood in the door, with a face in which maternal +anxiety and terror blended fearfully. Her countenance was like +ashes--her eyes straining wildly--her lips apart, while the panting +breath almost hissed through them. + +"Joe! Joe! What is it? Where is Mary? Is she dead?" were her eager +inquiries. + +"No, Fanny," answered Joe Morgan, starting up from where he was +actually kneeling by the side of the reviving little one, and going +quickly to his wife. "She's better now. It's a bad hurt, but the doctor +says it's nothing dangerous. Poor, dear child!" + +The pale face of the mother grew paler--she gasped--caught for breath +two or three times--a low shudder ran through her frame--and then she +lay white and pulseless in the arms of her husband. As the doctor +applied restoratives, I had opportunity to note more particularly the +appearance of Mrs. Morgan. Her person was very slender, and her face so +attenuated that it might almost be called shadowy. Her hair, which was +a rich chestnut brown, with a slight golden lustre, had fallen from her +comb, and now lay all over her neck and bosom in beautiful luxuriance. +Back from her full temples it had been smoothed away by the hand of +Morgan, that all the while moved over her brow and temples with a +caressing motion that I saw was unconscious, and which revealed the +tenderness of feeling with which, debased as he was, he regarded the +wife of his youth, and the long suffering companion of his later and +evil days. Her dress was plain and coarse, but clean and well fitting; +and about her whole person was an air of neatness and taste. She could +not now be called beautiful; yet in her marred features--marred by +suffering and grief--were many lineaments of beauty; and much that told +of a true, pure woman's heart beating in her bosom. Life came slowly +back to the stilled heart, and it was nearly half an hour before the +circle of motion was fully restored. + +Then, the twain, with their child, tenderly borne in the arms of her +father, went sadly homeward, leaving more than one heart heavier for +their visit. + +I saw more of the landlord's wife on this occasion than before. She had +acted with a promptness and humanity that impressed me very favorably. +It was plain, from her exclamations on learning that her husband's hand +inflicted the blow that came so near destroying the child's life, that +her faith for good in the tavern-keeping experiment had never been +strong. I had already inferred as much. Her face, the few times I had +seen her, wore a troubled look; and I could never forget its +expression, nor her anxious, warning voice, when she discovered Frank +sipping the dregs from a glass in the bar-room. + +It is rarely, I believe, that wives consent freely to the opening of +taverns by their husbands; and the determination on the part of the +latter to do so, is not unfrequently attended with a breach of +confidence and good feeling never afterward fully healed. Men look +close to the money result; women to the moral consequences. I doubt if +there be one dram-seller in ten, between whom and his wife there exists +a good understanding--to say nothing of genuine affection. And, in the +exceptional cases, it will generally be found that the wife is as +mercenary, or careless of the public good, as her husband. I have known +some women to set up grog-shops; but they were women of bad principles +and worse hearts. I remember one case, where a woman, with a sober, +church-going husband, opened a dram-shop. The husband opposed, +remonstrated, begged, threatened--but all to no purpose. The wife, by +working for the clothing stores, had earned and saved about three +hundred dollars. The love of money, in the slow process of +accumulation, had been awakened; and, in ministering to the depraved +appetites of men who loved drink and neglected their families, she saw +a quicker mode of acquiring the gold she coveted. And so the dram-shop +was opened. And what was the result? The husband quit going to church. +He had no heart for that; for, even on the Sabbath day, the fiery +stream was stayed not in his house. Next he began to tipple. Soon, +alas! the subtle poison so pervaded his system that morbid desire came; +and then he moved along quick-footed in the way of ruin. In less than +three years, I think, from the time the grog-shop was opened by his +wife, he was in a drunkard's grave. A year or two more, and the pit +that was digged for others by the hands of the wife, she fell into +herself. After breathing an atmosphere poisoned by the fumes of liquor, +the love of tasting it was gradually formed, and she, too, in the end, +became a slave to the Demon Drink. She died at last, poor as a beggar +in the street. Ah! this liquor-selling is the way to ruin; and they who +open the gates, as well as those who enter the downward path, alike go +to destruction. But this is digressing. + +After Joe Morgan and his wife left the "Sickle and Sheaf," with that +gentle child, who, as I afterward learned, had not, for a year or more, +laid her little head to sleep until her father returned home and who, +if he stayed out beyond a certain hour, would go for him, and lead him +back, a very angel of love and patience--I re-entered the bar-room, to +see how life was passing there. Not one of all I had left in the room +remained. The incident which had occurred was of so painful a nature, +that no further unalloyed pleasure was to be had there during the +evening, and so each had retired. In his little kingdom the landlord +sat alone, his head resting on his hand, and his face shaded from the +light. The whole aspect of the man was that of one in self-humiliation. +As I entered he raised his head, and turned his face toward me. Its +expression was painful. + +"Rather an unfortunate affair," said he. "I'm angry with myself, and +sorry for the poor child. But she'd no business here. As for Joe +Morgan, it would take a saint to bear his tongue when once set a-going +by liquor. I wish he'd stay away from the house. Nobody wants his +company. Oh, dear!" + +The ejaculation, or rather groan, that closed the sentence showed how +little Slade was satisfied with himself, notwithstanding this feeble +attempt at self-justification. + +"His thirst for liquor draws him hither," I remarked. "The attraction +of your bar to his appetite is like that of the magnet to the needle. +He cannot stay away." + +"He MUST stay away!" exclaimed the landlord, with some vehemence of +tone, striking his fist upon the table by which he sat. "He MUST stay +away! There is scarcely an evening that he does not ruffle my temper, +and mar good feelings in all the company. Just see what he provoked me +to do this evening. I might have killed the child. It makes my blood +run cold to think of it! Yes, sir--he must stay away. If no better can +be done, I'll hire a man to stand at the door and keep him out." + +"He never troubled you at the mill," said I. "No man was required at +the mill door?" + +"No!" And the landlord gave emphasis to the word by an oath, ejaculated +with a heartiness that almost startled me. I had not heard him swear +before. "No; the great trouble was to get him and keep him there, the +good-for-nothing, idle fellow!" + +"I am afraid," I ventured to suggest, "that things don't go on quite so +smoothly here as they did at the mill. Your customers are of a +different class." + +"I don't know about that; why not?" He did not just relish my remark. + +"Between quiet, thrifty, substantial farmers, and drinking bar-room +loungers, are many degrees of comparison." + +"Excuse me, sir!" Simon Slade elevated his person. "The men who visit +my bar-room, as a general thing, are quite as respectable, moral, and +substantial as any who came to the mill--and I believe more so. The +first people in the place, sir, are to be found here. Judge Lyman and +Judge Hammond; Lawyer Wilks and Doctor Maynard; Mr. Grand and Mr. Lee; +and dozens of others--all our first people. No, sir; you mustn't judge +all by vagabonds like Joe Morgan." + +There was a testy spirit manifested that I did not care to provoke. I +could have met his assertion with facts and inferences of a character +to startle any one occupying his position, who was in a calm, +reflective state; but to argue with him then would have been worse than +idle; and so I let him talk on until the excitement occasioned by my +words died out for want of new fuel. + + + + +NIGHT THE THIRD. + +JOE MORGAN'S CHILD. + + +"I don't see anything of your very particular friend, Joe Morgan, this +evening," said Harvey Green, leaning on the bar and speaking to Slade. +It was the night succeeding that on which the painful and exciting +scene with the child had occurred. + +"No," was answered--and to the word was added a profane imprecation. +"No; and if he'll just keep away from here, he may go to--on a +hard-trotting horse and a porcupine saddle as fast as he pleases. He's +tried my patience beyond endurance, and my mind is made up that he gets +no more drams at this bar. I've borne his vile tongue and seen my +company annoyed by him just as long as I mean to stand it. Last night +decided me. Suppose I'd killed that child?" + +"You'd have had trouble then, and no mistake." + +"Wouldn't I? Blast her little picture! What business has she creeping +in here every night?" + +"She must have a nice kind of a mother," remarked Green, with a cold +sneer. + +"I don't know what she is now," said Slade, a slight touch of feeling +in his voice--"heart-broken, I suppose. I couldn't look at her last +night; it made me sick. But there was a time when Fanny Morgan was the +loveliest and best woman in Cedarville. I'll say that for her. Oh, +dear! What a life her miserable husband has caused her to lead." + +"Better that he were dead and out of the way." + +"Better a thousand times," answered Slade. "If he'd only fall down some +night and break his neck, it would be a blessing to his family." + +"And to you in particular," laughed Green. + +"You may be sure it wouldn't cost me a large sum for mourning," was the +unfeeling response. + +Let us leave the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf," and its +cold-hearted inmates, and look in upon the family of Joe Morgan, and +see how it is in the home of the poor inebriate. We will pass by a +quick transition. + +"Joe!" The thin white hand of Mrs. Morgan clasps the arm of her +husband, who has arisen up suddenly, and now stands by the partly +opened door. "Don't go out to-night, Joe. Please, don't go out." + +"Father!" A feeble voice calls from the corner of an old settee, where +little Mary lies with her head bandaged. + +"Well, I won't then!" is replied--not angrily, nor even fretfully--but +in a kind voice. + +"Come and sit by me, father." How tenderly, yet how full of concern is +that low, sweet voice. "Come, won't you?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Now hold my hand, father." + +Joe takes the hand of little Mary, that instantly tightens upon his. + +"You won't go away and leave me to-night, will you, father? Say you +won't." + +"How very hot your hand is, dear. Does your head ache?" + +"A little; but it will soon feel better." + +Up into the swollen and disfigured face of the fallen father, the +large, earnest blue eyes of the child are raised. She does not see the +marred lineaments; but only the beloved countenance of her parent. + +"Dear father!" + +"What, love?" + +"I wish you'd promise me something." + +"What, dear?" + +"Will you promise?" + +"I can't say until I hear your request. If I can promise, I will." + +"Oh, you can promise--you can, father!" + +How the large blue eyes dance and sparkle! + +"What is it, love?" + +"That you will never go into Simon Slade's bar any more." + +The child raises herself, evidently with a painful effort; and leans +nearer to her father. + +Joe shakes his head, and poor Mary drops back upon her pillow with a +sigh. Her lids fall, and the long lashes lie strongly relieved on her +colorless cheeks. + +"I won't go there to-night, dear. So let your heart be at rest." + +Mary's lids unclose, and two round drops, released from their clasp, +glide slowly over her face. + +"Thank you, father--thank you. Mother will be so glad." + +The eyes closed again; and the father moved uneasily. His heart is +touched. There is a struggle within him. It is on his lips to say that +he will never drink at the "Sickle and Sheaf" again; but resolution +just lacks the force of utterance. + +"Father!" + +"Well, dear?" + +"I don't, think I'll be well enough to go out in two or three days. You +know the doctor said that I would have to keep very still, for I had a +great deal of fever." + +"Yes, poor child." + +"Now, won't you promise me one thing?" + +"What is it, dear?" + +"Not to go out in the evening until I get well." + +Joe Morgan hesitated. + +"Just promise me that, father. It won't be long; I shall be up again in +a little while." + +How well the father knows what is in the heart of his child. Her fears +are all for him. Who is to go up after her poor father, and lead him +home when the darkness of inebriety is on his spirit, and external +perception so dulled that not skill enough remains to shun the harm +that lies in his path? + +"Do promise just that, father, dear." + +He cannot resist the pleading voice and look. "I promise it, Mary; so +shut your eyes now and go to sleep. I'm afraid this fever will +increase." + +"Oh! I'm so glad--so glad!" + +Mary does not clasp her hands, nor show strong external signs of +pleasure; but how full of a pure, unselfish joy is that low-murmured +ejaculation, spoken in the depths of her spirit, as well as syllabled +by her tongue! + +Mrs. Morgan has been no unconcerned witness of all this; but knowing +the child's influence over her father, she has not ventured a word. +More was to be gained, she was sure, by silence on her part; and so she +kept silent. Now she comes nearer to them, and says, as she lets a hand +rest on the shoulder of her husband: + +"You feel better for that promise already; I know you do." + +He looks up to her, and smiles faintly. He does feel better, but is +hardly willing to acknowledge it. + +Soon after Mary is sleeping. It does not escape the observation of Mrs. +Morgan that her husband grows restless; for he gets up suddenly, every +now and then, and walks quickly across the room, as if in search of +something. Then sits down, listlessly--sighs--stretches himself, and +says, "Oh dear!" What shall she do for him? How is the want of his +accustomed evening stimulus to be met? She thinks, and questions, and +grieves inwardly. Poor Joe Morgan! His wife understands his case, and +pities him from her heart. But what can she do? Go out and get him +something to drink? "Oh, no! no! no! never!" She answered the thought +audibly almost, in the excitement of her feelings. An hour has +passed--Joe's restlessness has increased instead of diminishing. What +is to be done? Now Mrs. Morgan has left the room. She has resolved upon +something, for the case must be met. Ah! here she comes, after an +absence of five minutes, bearing in her hand a cup of strong coffee. + +"It was kind and thoughtful in you, Fanny," says Morgan, as with a +gratified look he takes the cup. But his hand trembles, and he spills a +portion of the contents as ho tries to raise it to his lips. How +dreadfully his nerves are shattered! Unnatural stimulants have been +applied so long, that all true vitality seems lost. And now the hand of +his wife is holding the cup to his lips, and he drinks eagerly. + +"This is dreadful--dreadful! Where will it end? What is to be done?" + +Fanny suppresses a sob, as she thus gives vent to her troubled +feelings. Twice, already, has her husband been seized with the +drunkard's madness; and, in the nervous prostration consequent upon +even a brief withdrawal of his usual strong stimulants, she sees the +fearful precursor of another attack of this dreadful and dangerous +malady. In the hope of supplying the needed tone she has given him +strong coffee; and this for the time, produces the effect desired. The +restlessness is allayed, and a quiet state of body and mind succeeds. +It needs but a suggestion to induce him to retire for the night. After +being a few minutes in bed, sleep steals over him, and his heavy +breathing tells that he is in the world of dreams. + +And now there comes a tap at the door. + +"Come in," is answered. + +The latch is lifted, the door swings open, and a woman enters. + +"Mrs. Slade!" The name is uttered in a tone of surprise. + +"Fanny, how are you this evening?" Kindly, yet half sadly, the words +are said. + +"Tolerable, I thank you." + +The hands of the two women are clasped, and for a few moments they gaze +into each other's face. What a world of tender commiseration is in that +of Mrs. Slade! + +"How is little Mary to-night?" + +"Not so well, I'm afraid. She has a good deal of fever." + +"Indeed! Oh, I'm sorry! Poor child! what a dreadful thing it was! Oh! +Fanny! you don't know how it has troubled me. I've been intending to +come around all day to see how she was, but couldn't get off until now." + +"It came near killing her," said Mrs. Morgan. + +"It's in God's mercy she escaped. The thought of it curdles the very +blood in my veins. Poor child! is this her on the settee?" + +"Yes." + +Mrs. Slade takes a chair, and sitting by the sleeping child, gazes long +upon her pale sweet face. Now the lips of Mary part--words are +murmured--what is she saying? + +"No, no, mother; I can't go to bed yet. Father isn't home. And it's so +dark. There's no one to lead him over the bridge. I'm not afraid. +Don't--don't cry so, mother--I'm not afraid! Nothing will hurt me." + +The child's face flushes. She moans, and throws her arms about +uneasily. Hark again. + +"I wish Mr. Slade wouldn't look so cross at me. He never did when I +went to the mill. He doesn't take me on his knee now, and stroke my +hair. Oh, dear! I wish father wouldn't go there any more. Don't, don't, +Mr. Slade. Oh! oh!"--the ejaculation prolonged into a frightened cry, +"My head! my head!" + +A few choking sobs are followed by low moans; and then the child +breathes easily again. But the flush does not leave her cheek; and when +Mrs. Slade, from whose eyes the tears come forth drop by drop, and roll +down her face, touches it lightly, she finds it hot with fever. + +"Has the doctor seen her to-day, Fanny?" + +"No, ma'am." + +"He should see her at once. I will go for him"; and Mrs. Slade starts +up and goes quickly from the room. In a little while she returns with +Doctor Green, who sits down and looks at the child for some moments +with a sober, thoughtful face. Then he lays his fingers on her pulse +and times its beat by his watch--shakes his head, and looks graver +still. + +"How long has she had fever?" he asks. + +"All day." + +"You should have sent for me earlier." + +"Oh, doctor! She is not dangerous, I hope?" Mrs. Morgan looks +frightened. + +"She's a sick child, madam." + +"You've promised, father."--The dreamer is speaking again.--"I'm not +well enough yet. Oh, don't go, father; don't! There! He's gone! Well, +well! I'll try and walk there--I can sit down and rest by the way. Oh, +dear! How tired I am! Father! Father!" + +The child starts up and looks about her wildly. + +"Oh, mother, is it you?" And she sinks back upon her pillow, looking +now inquiringly from face to face. + +"Father--where is father?" she asks. + +"Asleep, dear." + +"Oh! Is he? I'm glad." + +Her eyes close wearily. + +"Do you feel any pain, Mary?" inquired the doctor. + +"Yes, sir--in my head. It aches and beats so." + +The cry of "Father" had reached the ears of Morgan, who is sleeping in +the next room, and roused him into consciousness. He knows the doctor's +voice. Why is he here at this late hour? "Do you feel any pain, Mary?" +The question he hears distinctly, and the faintly uttered reply also. +He is sober enough to have all his fears instantly excited. There is +nothing in the world that he loves as he loves that child. And so he +gets up and dresses himself as quickly as possible; the stimulus of +anxiety giving tension to his relaxed nerves. + +"Oh, father!" The quick ears of Mary detect his entrance first, and a +pleasant smile welcomes him. + +"Is she very sick, doctor?" he asks, in a voice full of anxiety. + +"She's a sick child, sir; you should have sent for me earlier." The +doctor speaks rather sternly, and with a purpose to rebuke. + +The reply stirs Morgan, and he seems to cower half timidly under the +words, as if they were blows. Mary has already grasped her father's +hand, and holds on to it tightly. + +After examining the case a little more closely, the doctor prepares +some medicine, and, promising to call early in the morning, goes away. +Mrs. Slade follows soon after; but, in parting with Mrs. Morgan, leaves +something in her hand, which, to the surprise of the latter, proves to +be a ten-dollar bill. The tears start to her eyes; and she conceals the +money in her bosom--murmuring a fervent "God bless her!" + +A simple act of restitution is this on the part of Mrs. Slade, prompted +as well by humanity as a sense of justice. With one hand her husband +has taken the bread from the family of his old friend, and thus with +the other she restores it. + +And now Morgan and his wife are alone with their sick child. Higher the +fever rises, and partial delirium seizes upon her over-excited brain. +She talks for a time almost incessantly. All her trouble is about her +father; and she is constantly referring to his promise not to go out in +the evening until she gets well. How tenderly and touchingly she +appeals to him; now looking up into his face in partial recognition; +and now calling anxiously after him, as if he had left her and was +going away. + +"You'll not forget your promise, will you, father?" she says, speaking +so calmly, that he thinks her mind has ceased to wander. + +"No, dear; I will not forget it," he answers, smoothing her hair gently +with his hand. + +"You'll not go out in the evening again, until I get well?" + +"No, dear." + +"Father!" + +"What, love?" + +"Stoop down closer; I don't want mother to hear; it will make her feel +so bad." + +The father bends his ear close to the lips of Mary. How he starts and +shudders! What has she said?--only these brief words: + +"I shall not get well, father; I'm going to die." + +The groans, impossible to repress, that issued through the lips of Joe +Morgan, startled the ears of his wife, and she came quickly to the +bedside. + +"What is it? What is the matter, Joe?" she inquired, with a look of +anxiety. + +"Hush, father. Don't tell her. I only said it to you." And Mary put a +finger on her lips, and looked mysterious. "There, mother--you go away; +you've got trouble enough, any how. Don't tell her, father." + +But the words, which came to him like a prophecy, awoke such pangs of +fear and remorse in the heart of Joe Morgan, that it was impossible for +him to repress the signs of pain. For some moments he gazed at his +wife--then stooping forward, suddenly, he buried his face in the +bed-clothes, and sobbed bitterly. + +A suggestion of the truth now flashed through the mind of Mrs. Morgan, +sending a thrill of pain along every nerve. Ere she had time to recover +herself, the low, sweet voice of Mary broke upon the hushed air of the +room, and she sung: + + "Jesus can make a dying bed + Feel soft as downy pillows are, + While on His breast I lean my head, + And breathe my life out, sweetly, there." + +It was impossible for Mrs. Morgan longer to repress her feelings. As +the softly breathed strain died away, her sobs broke forth, and for a +time she wept violently. + +"There," said the child,--"I didn't mean to tell you. I only told +father, because--because he promised not to go to the tavern any more +until I got well; and I'm not going to get well. So, you see, mother, +he'll never go again--never--never--never. Oh, dear! how my head pains. +Mr. Slade threw it so hard. But it didn't strike father; and I'm so +glad. How it would have hurt him--poor father! But he'll never go there +any more; and that will be so good, won't it, mother?" + +A light broke over her face; but seeing that her mother still wept, she +said: + +"Don't cry. Maybe I'll be better." + +And then her eyes closed heavily, and she slept again. + +"Joe," said Mrs. Morgan, after she had in a measure recovered +herself--she spoke firmly--"Joe, did you hear what she said?" + +Morgan only answered with a groan. + +"Her mind wanders; and yet she may have spoken only the truth." + +He groaned again. + +"If she should die, Joe--" + +"Don't; oh, don't talk so, Fanny. She's not going to die. It's only +because she's a little light-headed." + +"Why is she light-headed, Joe?" + +"It's the fever--only the fever, Fanny." + +"It was the blow, and the wound on her head, that caused the fever. How +do we know the extent of injury on the brain? Doctor Green looked very +serious. I'm afraid, husband, that the worst is before us. I've borne +and suffered a great deal--only God knows how much--I pray that I may +have strength to bear this trial also. Dear child! She is better fitted +for heaven than for earth, and it may be that God is about to take her +to Himself. She's been a great comfort to me--and to you, Joe, more +like a guardian angel than a child." + +Mrs. Morgan had tried to speak very firmly; but as sentence followed +sentence, her voice lost more and more of its even tone. With the +closing words all self-control vanished; and she wept bitterly. What +could her feeble, erring husband do, but weep with her? + +"Joe,"--Mrs. Morgan aroused herself as quickly as possible, for she had +that to say which she feared she might not have the heart to +utter--"Joe, if Mary dies, you cannot forget the cause of her death." + +"Oh, Fanny! Fanny!" + +"Nor the hand that struck the cruel blow." + +"Forget it? Never! And if I forgive Simon Slade--" + +"Nor the place where the blow was dealt," said Mrs. Morgan, +interrupting him. + +"Poor--poor child!" moaned the conscience-stricken man. + +"Nor your promise, Joe--nor your promise given to our dying child." + +"Father! Father! Dear father!" Mary's eyes suddenly unclosed, as she +called her father eagerly. + +"Here I am, love. What is it?" And Joe Morgan pressed up to the bedside. + +"Oh! it's you, father! I dreamed that you had gone out, and--and--but +you won't will you, dear father?" + +"No, love--no." + +"Never any more until I get well?" + +"I must go out to work, you know, Mary." + +"At night, father. That's what I mean. You won't, will you?" + +"No, dear, no." + +A soft smile trembled over the child's face; her eyelids drooped +wearily, and she fell off into slumber again. She seemed not so +restless as before--did not moan, nor throw herself about in her sleep. + +"She's better, I think," said Morgan, as he bent over her, and listened +to her softer breathing. + +"It seems so," replied his wife. "And now, Joe, you must go to bed +again. I will lie down here with Mary, and be ready to do any thing for +her that she may want." + +"I don't feel sleepy. I'm sure I couldn't close my eyes. So let me sit +up with Mary. You are tired and worn out." + +Mrs. Morgan looked earnestly into her husband's face. His eyes were +unusually bright, and she noticed a slight nervous restlessness about +his lips. She laid one of her hands on his, and perceived a slight +tremor. + +"You must go to bed," she spoke firmly. "I shall not let you sit up +with Mary. So go at once." And she drew him almost by force into the +next room. + +"It's no use, Fanny. There's not a wink of sleep in my eyes. I shall +lie awake anyhow. So do you get a little rest." Even as he spoke there +were nervous twitchings of his arms and shoulders; and as he entered +the chamber, impelled by his wife, he stopped suddenly and said: + +"What is that?" + +"Where?" asked Mrs. Morgan. + +"Oh, it's nothing--I see. Only one of my old boots. I thought it a +great black cat." + +Oh! what a shudder of despair seized upon the heart of the wretched +wife. Too well she knew the fearful signs of that terrible madness from +which, twice before, he had suffered. She could have looked on calmly +and seen him die--but, "Not this--not this! Oh, Father in heaven!" she +murmured, with such a heart-sinking that it seemed as if life itself +would go out. + +"Get into bed, Joe; get into bed as quickly as possible." + +Morgan was now passive in the hands of his wife, and obeyed her almost +like a child. He had turned down the bed-clothes, and was about getting +in, when he started back, with a look of disgust and alarm. + +"There's nothing there, Joe. What's the matter with you?" + +"I'm sure I don't know, Fanny," and his teeth rattled together, as he +spoke. "I thought there was a great toad under the clothes." + +"How foolish you are!"--yet tears were blinding her eyes as she said +this. "It's only fancy. Get into bed and shut your eyes. I'll make you +another cup of strong coffee. Perhaps that will do you good. You're +only a little nervous. Mary's sickness has disturbed you." + +Joe looked cautiously under the bedclothes, as he lifted them up still +farther, and peered beneath. + +"You know there's nothing in your bed, see!" + +And Mrs. Morgan threw with a single jerk all the clothes upon the floor. + +"There now! look for yourself. Now shut your eyes," she continued as +she spread the sheet and quilt over him after his head was on the +pillow. "Shut them tight and keep them so until I boil the water and +make a cup of coffee You know as well as I do that it's nothing but +fancy." + +Morgan closed his eyes firmly, and drew the clothes over his head. + +"I'll be back in a few minutes" said his wife going hurriedly to the +door. Ere leaving, however she partly turned her head and glanced back. +There sat her husband upright and staring fearfully. + +"Don't Fanny! don't go away!" he cried in a frightened voice. + +Joe! Joe! why will you be so foolish? It's nothing but imagination. Now +do lie down and shut your eyes. Keep them shut. There now. + +And she laid a hand over his eyes and pressed it down tightly. + +"I wish Doctor Green was here," said the wretched man. "He could give +me something." + +"Shall I go for him?" + +"Go Fanny! Run over right quickly" + +"But you won't keep in bed" + +"Yes I will. There, now" And he drew the clothes over his face "There +I'll lie just so until you come back. Now run Fanny, and don't stay a +minute." + +Scarcely stopping to think Mrs. Morgan went hurriedly from the room and +drawing an old shawl over her head started with swift feet for the +residence of Doctor Green which was not very far away. The kind doctor +understood at a word the sad condition of her husband and promised to +attend him immediately. Back she flew at even a wilder speed her heart +throbbing with vague apprehension. Oh! what a fearful cry was that +which smote her ears as she came within a few paces of home. She knew +the voice, changed as it was by terror, and a shudder almost palsied +her heart. At a single bound she cleared the intervening space and in +the next moment was in the room where she had left her husband. But he +was not there! With suspended breath, and feet that scarcely obeyed her +will, she passed into the chamber where little Mary lay. Not here! + +"Joe! husband!" she called in a faint voice. + +"Here he is, mother." And now she saw that Joe had crept into the bed +behind the sick child and that her arm was drawn tightly around his +neck. + +"You won't let them hurt me, will you dear?" said the pool frightened +victim of a terrible mania. + +"Nothing will hurt you father," answered Mary, in a voice that showed +her mind to be clear, and fully conscious of her parent's true +condition. + +She had seen him thus before. Ah! what an experience for a child! + +"You're an angel--my good angel, Mary," he murmured, in a voice yet +trembling with fear "Pray for me, my child. Oh ask your father in +heaven to save me from these dreadful creatures. There now!" he cried, +rising up suddenly and looking toward the door. "Keep out! Go away! You +can't come in here. This is Mary's room, and she's an angel. Ah, ha! I +knew you wouldn't dare come in here-- + + "A single saint can put to flight + Ten thousand blustering sons of night" + +He added in a half wandering way yet with an assured voice, as he laid +himself back upon his pillow and drew the clothes over his head. + +"Poor father!" sighed the child as she gathered both arms about his +neck! "I will be your good angel. Nothing shall hurt you here." + +"I knew I would be safe where you were," he whispered--"I knew it, and +so I came. Kiss me, love." + +How pure and fervent was the kiss laid instantly upon his lips! There +was a power in it to remand the evil influences that were surrounding +and pressing in upon him like a flood. All was quiet now, and Mrs. +Morgan neither by word nor movement disturbed the solemn stillness that +reigned in the apartment. In a few minutes the deepened breathing of +her husband gave a blessed intimation that he was sinking into sleep. +Oh, sleep! sleep! How tearfully, in times past, had she prayed that he +might sleep; and yet no sleep came for hours and days--even though +powerful opiates were given--until exhausted nature yielded, and then +sleep had a long, long struggle with death. Now the sphere of his +loving, innocent child seemed to have overcome, at least for the time, +the evil influences that were getting possession even of his external +senses. Yes, yes, he was sleeping! Oh, what a fervent "Thank God!" went +up from the heart of his stricken wife. + +Soon the quick ears of Mrs. Morgan detected the doctor's approaching +footsteps, and she met him at the door with a finger on her lips. A +whispered word or two explained the better aspect of affairs, and the +doctor said, encouragingly: + +"That's good, if he will only sleep on." + +"Do you think he will, doctor?" was asked anxiously. + +"He may. But we cannot hope too strongly. It would be something very +unusual." + +Both passed noiselessly into the chamber. Morgan still slept, and by +his deep breathing it was plain that he slept soundly. And Mary, too, +was sleeping, her face now laid against her father's, and her arms +still about his neck. The sight touched even the doctor's heart and +moistened his eyes. For nearly half an hour he remained; and then, as +Morgan continued to sleep, he left medicine to be given immediately, +and went home, promising to call early in the morning. + +It is now past midnight, and we leave the lonely, sad-hearted watcher +with her sick ones. + +I was sitting, with a newspaper in my hand--not reading, but musing--at +the "Sickle and Sheaf," late in the evening marked by the incidents +just detailed. + +"Where's your mother?" I heard Simon Slade inquire. He had just entered +an adjoining room. + +"She's gone out somewhere," was answered by his daughter Flora. + +"Where?" + +"I don't know." + +"How long has she been away?" + +"More than an hour." + +"And you don't know where she went to?" + +"No, sir." + +Nothing more was said, but I heard the landlord's heavy feet moving +backward and forward across the room for some minutes. + +"Why, Ann! where have you been?" The door of the next room had opened +and shut. + +"Where I wish you had been with me," was answered in a very firm voice. + +"Where?" + +"To Joe Morgan's." + +"Humph!" Only this ejaculation met my ears. But something was said in a +low voice, to which Mrs. Slade replied with some warmth: + +"If you don't have his child's blood clinging for life to your +garments, you may be thankful." + +"What do you mean?" he asked, quickly. + +"All that my words indicate. Little Mary is very ill!" + +"Well, what of it?" + +"Much. The doctor thinks her in great danger. The cut on her head has +thrown her into a violent fever, and she is delirious. Oh, Simon! if +you had heard what I heard to-night." + +"What?" was asked in a growling tone. + +"She is out of her mind, as I said, and talks a great deal. She talked +about you." + +"Of me! Well, what had she to say?" + +"She said--so pitifully--'I wish Mr. Slade wouldn't look so cross at +me. He never did when I went to the mill. He doesn't take me on his +knee now, and stroke my hair. Oh, dear!' Poor child! She was always so +good." + +"Did she say that?" Slade seemed touched. + +"Yes, and a great deal more. Once she screamed out, 'Oh, don't! don't, +Mr. Slade! don't! My head! my head!' It made my very heart ache. I can +never forget her pale, frightened face, nor her cry of fear. Simon--if +she should die!" + +There was a long silence. + +"If we were only back to the mill." It was Mrs. Slade's voice. + +"There, now! I don't want to hear that again," quickly spoke out the +landlord. "I made a slave of myself long enough." + +"You had at least a clear conscience," his wife answered. + +"Do hush, will you?" Slade was now angry. "One would think, by the way +you talk sometimes, that I had broken every command of the Decalogue." + +"You will break hearts as well as commandments, if you keep on for a +few years as you have begun--and ruin souls as well as fortunes." + +Mrs. Slade spoke calmly, but with marked severity of tone. Her husband +answered with an oath, and then left the room, banging the door after +him. In the hush that followed I retired to my chamber, and lay for an +hour awake, pondering on all I had just heard. What a revelation was in +that brief passage of words between the landlord and his excited +companion! + + + + +NIGHT THE FOURTH. + +DEATH OF LITTLE MARY MORGAN. + + +"Where are you going, Ann?" It was the landlord's voice. Time--a little +after dark. + +"I'm going over to see Mrs. Morgan," answered his wife. + +"What for?" + +"I wish to go," was replied. + +"Well, I don't wish you to go," said Slade, in a very decided way. + +"I can't help that, Simon. Mary, I'm told, is dying, and Joe is in a +dreadful way. I'm needed there--and so are you, as to that matter. +There was a time when, if word came to you that Morgan or his family +were in trouble--" + +"Do hush, will you!" exclaimed the landlord, angrily. "I won't be +preached to in this way any longer." + +"Oh, well; then don't interfere with my movements, Simon; that's all I +have to say. I'm needed over there, as I just said, and I'm going." + +There were considerable odds against him, and Slade, perceiving this, +turned off, muttering something that his wife did not hear, and she +went on her way. A hurried walk brought her to the wretched home of the +poor drunkard, whose wife met her at the door. + +"How is Mary?" was the visitor's earnest inquiry. + +Mrs. Morgan tried to answer the question; but, though her lips moved, +no sounds issued therefrom. + +Mrs. Slade pressed her hands tightly in both of hers; and then passed +in with her to the room where the child lay. A stance sufficed to tell +Mrs. Slade that death had already laid his icy fingers upon her brow. + +"How are you, dear?" she asked, as she bent over and kissed her. + +"Better, I thank you!" replied Mary, in a low whisper. + +Then she fixed her eyes upon her mother's face with a look of inquiry. + +"What is it, love?" + +"Hasn't father waked up yet?" + +"No, dear." + +"Won't he wake up soon?" + +"He's sleeping very soundly. I wouldn't like to disturb him." + +"Oh, no; don't disturb him. I thought, maybe, he was awake." + +And the child's lids drooped languidly, until the long lashes lay close +against her cheeks. + +There was silence for a little while, and then Mrs. Morgan said in a +half-whisper to Mrs. Slade: + +"Oh, we've had such a dreadful time with poor Joe. He got in that +terrible way again last night. I had to go for Doctor Green and leave +him all alone. When I came back, he was in bed with Mary; and she, dear +child, had her arms around his neck, and was trying to comfort him; and +would you believe it, he went off to sleep, and slept in that way for a +long time. The doctor came, and when he saw how it was, left some +medicine for him, and went away. I was in such hopes that he would +sleep it all off. But about twelve o'clock he started up, and sprung +out of bed with an awful scream. Poor Mary! she too had fallen asleep. +The cry wakened her, and frightened her dreadfully. She's been getting +worse ever since, Mrs. Slade. + +"Just as he was rushing out of the room, I caught him by the arm, and +it took all my strength to hold him. + +"'Father! father!' Mary called after him as soon as she was awake +enough to understand what was the matter--'Don't go out, father; +there's nothing here.' + +"He looked back toward the bed, in a frightful way. + +"'See, father!' and the dear child turned down the quilt and sheet, in +order to convince him that nothing was in the bed. 'I'm here,' she +added. 'I'm not afraid. Come, father. If there's nothing here to hurt +me, there's nothing to hurt you.' + +"There was something so assuring in this, that Joe took a step or two +toward the bed, looking sharply into it as he did so. From the bed his +eyes wandered up to the ceiling, and the old look of terror came into +his face. + +"'There it is now! Jump out of bed, quick! Jump out, Mary!' he cried. +'See! it's right over your head.' + +"Mary showed no sign of fear as she lifted her eyes to the ceiling, and +gazed steadily for a few moments in that direction. + +"'There's nothing there, father,' said she, in a confident voice. + +"'It's gone now,' Joe spoke in a tone of relief. 'Your angel-look drove +it away. Aha! There it is now, creeping along the floor!' he suddenly +exclaimed, fearfully; starting away from where he stood. + +"'Here, father'! Here!' Mary called to him, and he sprung into the bed +again; while she gathered her arms about him tightly, saying in a low, +soothing voice, 'Nothing can harm you here, father.' + +"Without a moment's delay, I gave him the morphine left by Doctor +Green. He took it eagerly, and then crouched down in the bed, while +Mary continued to assure him of perfect safety. So long as he was +clearly conscious as to where he was, he remained perfectly still. But, +as soon as partial slumber came, he would scream out, and spring from +the bed in terror and then it would take us several minutes to quiet +him again. Six times during the night did this occur; and as often, +Mary coaxed him back. The morphine I continued to give as the doctor +had directed. By morning, the opiates had done their work, and he was +sleeping soundly. When the doctor came, we removed him to his own bed. +He is still asleep; and I begin to feel uneasy, lest he should never +awake again. I have heard of this happening." + +"See if father isn't awake," said Mary, raising her head from the +pillow. She had not heard what passed between her mother and Mrs. +Slade, for the conversation was carried on in low voices. + +Mrs. Morgan stepped to the door, and looked into the room where her +husband lay. + +"He is still asleep, dear," she remarked, coming back to the bed. + +"Oh! I wish he was awake. I want to see him so much. Won't you call +him, mother?" + +"I have called him a good many times. But you know the doctor gave him +opium. He can't wake up yet." + +"He's been sleeping a very long time; don't you think so, mother?" + +"Yes, dear, it does seem a long time. But it is best for him. He'll be +better when he wakes." + +Mary closed her eyes, wearily. How deathly white was her face--how +sunken her eyes--how sharply contracted her features! + +"I've given her up, Mrs. Slade," said Mrs. Morgan, in a low, rough, +choking whisper, as she leaned nearer to her friend. "I've given her +up! The worst is over; but, oh! it seemed as though my heart would +break in the struggle. Dear child! In all the darkness of my way, she +has helped and comforted me. Without her, it would have been the +blackness of darkness." + +"Father! father!" The voice of Mary broke out with a startling +quickness. + +Mrs. Morgan turned to the bed, and laying her hand on Mary's arm said: + +"He's still sound asleep, dear." + +"No, he isn't, mother. I heard him move. Won't you go in and see if he +is awake?" + +In order to satisfy the child, her mother left the room. To her +surprise, she met the eyes of her husband as she entered the chamber +where he lay. He looked at her calmly. + +"What does Mary want with me?" he asked. + +"She wishes to see you. She's called you so many times. Shall I bring +her in here?" + +"No. I'll get up and dress myself." + +"I wouldn't do that. You've been sick." + +"Father! father!" The clear, earnest voice of Mary was heard calling. + +"I'm coming, dear," answered Morgan. + +"Come quick, father, won't you?" + +"Yes, love." And Morgan got up and dressed himself--but with unsteady +hands, and every sign of nervous prostration. In a little while, with +the assistance of his wife, he was ready, and supported by her, came +tottering into the room where Mary was lying. + +"Oh, father!"--What a light broke over her countenance.--"I've been +waiting for you so long. I thought you were never going to wake up. +Kiss me, father." + +"What can I do for you, Mary?" asked Morgan, tenderly, as he laid his +face down upon the pillow beside her. + +"Nothing, father. I don't wish for anything. I only wanted to see you." + +"I'm here now, love." + +"Dear father!" How earnestly, yet tenderly she spoke, laying her small +hand upon his face. "You've always been good to me, father." + +"Oh, no. I've never been good to anybody," sobbed the weak, +broken-spirited man, as he raised himself from the pillow. + +How deeply touched was Mrs. Slade, as she sat, the silent witness of +this scene! + +"You haven't been good to yourself, father--but you've always been good +to us." + +"Don't, Mary! don't say anything about that," interrupted Morgan. "Say +that I've been very bad--very wicked. Oh, Mary, dear! I only wish that +I was as good as you are; I'd like to die, then, and go right away from +this evil world. I wish there was no liquor to drink--no taverns--no +bar-rooms. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I wish I was dead." + +And the weak, trembling, half-palsied man laid his face again upon the +pillow beside his child, and sobbed aloud. + +What an oppressive silence reigned for a time through the room! + +"Father." The stillness was broken by Mary. Her voice was clear and +even. "Father, I want to tell you something." + +"What is it, Mary?" + +"There'll be nobody to go for you, father." The child's lips now +quivered, and tears filled into her eyes. + +"Don't talk about that, Mary. I'm not going out in the evening any more +until you get well. Don't you remember I promised?" + +"But, father"--She hesitated. + +"What, dear?" + +"I'm going away to leave you and mother." + +"Oh, no--no--no, Mary! Don't say that."--The poor man's voice was +broken.--"Don't say that! We can't let you go, dear." + +"God has called me." The child's voice had a solemn tone, and her eyes +turned reverently upward. + +"I wish He would call me! Oh, I wish He would call me!" groaned Morgan, +hiding his face in his hands. "What shall I do when you are gone? Oh, +dear! Oh. dear!" + +"Father!" Mary spoke calmly again. "You are not ready to go yet. God +will let you live here longer, that you may get ready." + +"How can I get ready without you to help me, Mary? My angel child!" + +"Haven't I tried to help you, father, oh, so many times?" said Mary. + +"Yes--yes--you've always tried." + +"But it wasn't any use. You would go out--you would go to the tavern. +It seemed most as if you couldn't help it." + +Morgan groaned in spirit. + +"Maybe I can help you better, father, after I die. I love you so much, +that I am sure God will let me come to you, and stay with you always, +and be your angel. Don't you think he will, mother?" + +But Mrs. Morgan's heart was too full. She did not even try to answer, +but sat, with streaming eyes, gazing upon her child's face. + +"Father. I dreamed something about you, while I slept to-day." Mary +again turned to her father. + +"What was it, dear?" + +"I thought it was night, and that I was still sick. You promised not to +go out again until I was well. But you did go out; and I thought you +went over to Mr. Slade's tavern. When I knew this, I felt as strong as +when I was well, and I got up and dressed myself, and started out after +you. But I hadn't gone far, before I met Mr. Slade's great bull-dog, +Nero, and he growled at me so dreadfully that I was frightened and ran +back home. Then I started again, and went away round by Mr. Mason's. +But there was Nero in the road, and this time he caught my dress in his +mouth and tore a great piece out of the skirt. I ran back again, and he +chased me all the way home. Just as I got to the door. I looked around, +and there was Mr. Slade, setting Nero on me. As soon as I saw Mr. +Slade, though he looked at me very wicked, I lost all my fear, and +turning around, I walked past Nero, who showed his teeth, and growled +as fiercely as ever, but didn't touch me. Then Mr. Slade tried to stop +me. But I didn't mind him, and kept right on, until I came to the +tavern, and there you stood in the door. And you were dressed so nice. +You had on a new hat and a new coat; and your boots were new, and +polished just like Judge Hammond's. I said: 'Oh father! is this you?' +And then you took me up in your arms and kissed me, and said: 'Yes, +Mary, I am your real father. Not old Joe Morgan--but Mr. Morgan now.' +It seemed all so strange, that I looked into the bar-room to see who +was there. But it wasn't a bar-room any longer; but a store full of +goods. The sign of the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was taken down; and over the +door I now read your name, father. Oh! I was so glad, that I awoke--and +then I cried all to myself, for it was only a dream." + +The last words were said very mournfully, and with a drooping of Mary's +lids, until the tear-gemmed lashes lay close upon her cheeks. Another +period of deep silence followed--for the oppressed listeners gave no +utterance to what was in their hearts. Feeling was too strong for +speech. Nearly five minutes glided away, and then Mary whispered the +name of her father, but without opening her eyes. + +Morgan answered, and bent down his ear. + +"You will only have mother left," she said--"only mother. And she cries +so much when you are away." + +"I won't leave her, Mary, only when I go to work," said Morgan, +whispering back to the child. "And I'll never go out at night any more." + +"Yes; you promised me that." + +"And I'll promise more." + +"What, father?" + +"Never to go into a tavern again." + +"Never!" + +"No, never. And I'll promise still more." + +"Father?" + +"Never to drink a drop of liquor as long as I live." + +"Oh, father! dear, dear father!" And with a cry of joy Mary started up +and flung herself upon his breast. Morgan drew his arms tightly around +her, and sat for a long time, with his lips pressed to her cheek--while +she lay against his bosom as still as death. As death? Yes: for when +the father unclasped his arms, the spirit of his child was with the +angels of the resurrection! + +It was my fourth evening in the bar-room of the 'Sickle and Sheaf'. The +company was not large, nor in very gay spirits. All had heard of little +Mary's illness; which followed so quickly on the blow from the tumbler, +that none hesitated about connecting the one with the other. So regular +had been the child's visits, and so gently excited, yet powerful her +influence over her father, that most of the frequenters at the 'Sickle +and Sheaf' had felt for her a more than common interest; which the +cruel treatment she received, and the subsequent illness, materially +heightened. + +"Joe Morgan hasn't turned up this evening," remarked some one. + +"And isn't likely to for a while" was answered. + +"Why not?" inquired the first speaker. + +"They say the man with the poker is after him." + +"Oh, dear that's dreadful. Its the second or third chase, isn't it?" + +"Yes." + +"He'll be likely to catch him this time." + +"I shouldn't wonder." + +"Poor devil! It won't be much matter. His family will be a great deal +better without him." + +"It will be a blessing to them if he dies." + +"Miserable, drunken wretch!" muttered Harvey Green who was present. +"He's only in the way of everybody. The sooner he's off, the better." + +The landlord said nothing. He stood leaning across the bar, looking +more sober than usual. + +"That was rather an unlucky affair of yours Simon. They say the child +is going to die." + +"Who says so?" Slade started, scowled and threw a quick glance upon the +speaker. + +"Doctor Green." + +"Nonsense! Doctor Green never said any such thing." + +"Yes, he did though." + +"Who heard him?" + +"I did." + +"You did?" + +"Yes." + +"He wasn't in earnest?" A slight paleness overspread the countenance of +the landlord. "He was, though. They had an awful time there last night." + +"Where?" + +"At Joe Morgan's. Joe has the mania, and Mrs. Morgan was alone with him +and her sick girl all night." + +"He deserves to have it; that's all I've got to say." Slade tried to +speak with a kind of rough indifference. + +"That's pretty hard talk," said one of the company. + +"I don't care if it is. It's the truth. What else could he expect?" + +"A man like Joe is to be pitied," remarked the other. + +"I pity his family," said Slade. + +"Especially little Mary." The words were uttered tauntingly, and +produced murmurs of satisfaction throughout the room. + +Slade started back from where he stood, in an impatient manner, saying +something that I did not hear. + +"Look here, Simon, I heard some strong suggestions over at Lawyer +Phillips' office to-day." + +Slade turned his eyes upon the speaker. + +"If that child should die, you'll probably have to stand a trial for +man-slaughter." + +"No--girl-slaughter," said Harvey Green, with a cold, inhuman chuckle. + +"But I'm in earnest." said the other. "Mr. Phillips said that a case +could be made out of it." + +"It was only an accident, and all the lawyers in Christendom can't make +anything more of it," remarked Green, taking the side of the landlord, +and speaking with more gravity than before. + +"Hardly an accident," was replied. + +"He didn't throw at the girl." + +"No matter. He threw a heavy tumbler at her father's head. The +intention was to do an injury; and the law will not stop to make any +nice discriminations in regard to the individual upon whom the injury +was wrought. Moreover, who is prepared to say that he didn't aim at the +girl?" + +"Any man who intimates such a thing is a cursed liar!" exclaimed the +landlord, half maddened by the suggestion. + +"I won't throw a tumbler at your head," coolly remarked the individual +whose plain speaking had so irritated Simon Slade, "Throwing tumblers I +never thought a very creditable kind of argument--though with some men, +when cornered, it is a favorite mode of settling a question. Now, as +for our friend the landlord, I am sorry to say that his new business +doesn't seem to have improved his manners or his temper a great deal. +As a miller, he was one of the best-tempered men in the world, and +wouldn't have harmed a kitten. But, now, he can swear, and bluster, and +throw glasses at people's heads, and all that sort of thing, with the +best of brawling rowdies. I'm afraid he's taking lessons in a bad +school--I am." + +"I don't think you have any right to insult a man in his own house," +answered Slade, in a voice dropped to a lower key than the one in which +he had before spoken. + +"I had no intention to insult you," said the other. "I was only +speaking supposititiously, and in view of your position on a trial for +manslaughter, when I suggested that no one could prove, or say that you +didn't mean to strike little Mary, when you threw the tumbler." + +"Well, I didn't mean to strike her: and I don't believe there is a man +in this bar-room who thinks that I did--not one." + +"I'm sure I do not," said the individual with whom he was in +controversy. "Nor I"--"Nor I" went round the room. + +"But, as I wished to set forth," was continued, "the case will not be +so plain a one when it finds its way into court, and twelve men, to +each of whom you may be a stranger, come to sit in judgment upon the +act. The slightest twist in the evidence, the prepossessions of a +witness, or the bad tact of the prosecution, may cause things to look +so dark on your side as to leave you but little chance. For my part, if +the child should die, I think your chances for a term in the state's +prison are as eight to ten; and I should call that pretty close +cutting." + +I looked attentively at the man who said this, all the while he was +speaking, but could not clearly make out whether he were altogether in +earnest, or merely trying to worry the mind of Slade. That he was +successful in accomplishing the latter, was very plain; for the +landlord's countenance steadily lost color, and became overcast with +alarm. With that evil delight which some men take in giving pain, +others, seeing Slade's anxious looks, joined in the persecution, and +soon made the landlord's case look black enough; and the landlord +himself almost as frightened as a criminal just under arrest. + +"It's bad business, and no mistake," said one. + +"Yes, bad enough. I wouldn't be in his shoes for his coat," remarked +another. + +"For his coat? No, not for his whole wardrobe," said a third. + +"Nor for the 'Sickle and Sheaf thrown into the bargain," added a fourth. + +"It will be a clear case of manslaughter, and no mistake. What is the +penalty?" + +"From two to ten years in the penitentiary," was readily answered. + +"They'll give him five. I reckon." + +"No--not more than two. It will be hard to prove malicious intention." + +"I don't know that. I've heard him curse the girl and threaten her many +a time. Haven't you?" + +"Yes"--"Yes"--"I have, often," ran round the bar-room. + +"You'd better hang me at once," said Slade, affecting to laugh. + +At this moment, the door behind Slade opened, and I saw his wife's +anxious face thrust in for a moment. She said something to her husband, +who uttered a low ejaculation of surprise, and went out quickly. + +"What's the matter now?" asked one of another. + +"I shouldn't wonder if little Mary Morgan was dead," was suggested. + +"I heard her say dead," remarked one who was standing near the bar. + +"What's the matter, Frank?" inquired several voices, as the landlord's +son came in through the door out of which his father had passed. + +"Mary Morgan is dead," answered the boy. + +"Poor child! Poor child!" sighed one, in genuine regret at the not +unlooked for intelligence. "Her trouble is over." + +And there was not one present, but Harvey Green, who did not utter some +word of pity or sympathy. He shrugged his shoulders, and looked as much +of contempt and indifference as he thought it prudent to express. + +"See here, boys," spoke out one of the company, "can't we do something +for poor Mrs. Morgan? Can't we make up a purse for her?" + +"That's it," was quickly responded; "I'm good for three dollars; and +there they are," drawing out the money and laying it upon the counter. + +"And here are five to go with them," said I, quickly stepping forward, +and placing a five-dollar bill along side of the first contribution. + +"Here are five more," added a third individual. And so it went on, +until thirty dollars were paid down for the benefit of Mrs. Morgan. + +"Into whose hands shall this be placed?" was next asked. + +"Let me suggest Mrs. Slade," said I. "To my certain knowledge, she has +been with Mrs. Morgan to-night. I know that she feels in her a true +woman's interest." + +"Just the person," was answered. "Frank, tell your mother we would like +to see her. Ask her to step into the sitting-room." + +In a few moments the boy came back, and said that his mother would see +us in the next room, into which we all passed. Mrs. Slade stood near +the table, on which burned a lamp. I noticed that her eyes were red, +and that there was on her countenance a troubled and sorrowful +expression. + +"We have just heard," said one of the company, "that little Mary Morgan +is dead." + +"Yes--it is too true," answered Mrs. Slade, mournfully. "I have just +left there. Poor child! she has passed from an evil world." + +"Evil it has indeed been to her," was remarked. + +"You may well say that. And yet, amid all the evil, she been an angel +of mercy. Her last thought in dying was of her miserable father. For +him, at any time, she would have laid down her life willingly." + +"Her mother must be nearly broken-hearted. Mary is the last of her +children." + +"And yet the child's death may prove a blessing to her." + +"How so?" + +"Her father promised Mary, just at the last moment--solemnly promised +her--that, henceforth, he would never taste liquor. That was all her +trouble. That was the thorn in her dying pillow. But he plucked it out, +and she went to sleep, lying against his heart. Oh, gentlemen! it was +the most touching sight I ever saw." + +All present seemed deeply moved. + +"They are very poor and wretched." was said. + +"Poor and miserable enough," answered Mrs.' Slade. + +"We have just been taking up a collection for Mrs. Morgan. Here is the +money, Mrs. Slade--thirty dollars--we place it in your hands for her +benefit. Do with it, for her, as you may see best." + +"Oh, gentlemen!" What a quick gleam went over the face of Mrs. Slade. +"I thank you, from my heart, in the name of that unhappy one, for this +act of true benevolence. To you the sacrifice has been small, to her +the benefit will be great indeed. A new life will, I trust be commenced +by her husband, and this timely aid will be something to rest upon, +until he can get into better employment than he now has. Oh, gentlemen! +let me urge on you, one and all, to make common cause in favor of Joe +Morgan. His purposes are good now, he means to keep his promise to his +dying child--means to reform his life. Let good impulses that led to +that act of relief further prompt you to watch over him and, if you see +him about going astray, to lead him kindly back into the right path. +Never--oh' never encourage him to drink, but rather take the glass from +his hand, if his own appetite lead him aside and by all the persuasive +influence you possess, induce him to go out from the place of +temptation. + +"Pardon my boldness in saying so much" added Mrs. Slade, recollecting +herself and coloring deeply as she did so "My feelings have led me +away." + +And she took the money from the table where it had been placed, and +retired toward the door. + +"You have spoken well madam" was answered "And we thank you for +reminding us of our duty." + +"One word more--and forgive the earnest heart from which it +comes"--said Mrs. Slade in a voice that trembled on the words she +uttered "I cannot help speaking, gentlemen! Think if some of you be not +entering the road wherein Joe Morgan has so long been walking. Save him +in heaven's name! but see that ye do not yourselves become castaways!" + +As she said this she glided through the door and it closed after her. + +"I don't know what her husband would say to that," was remarked after a +few moments of surprised silence. + +"I don't care what HE would say, but I'll tell you what _I_ will say" +spoke out a man whom I had several times noticed as a rather a free +tippler "The old lady has given us capital advice, and I mean to take +it, for one. I'm going to try to save Joe Morgan, and--myself too. I've +already entered the road she referred to; but I'm going to turn back. +So good-night to you all; and if Simon Slade gets no more of my +sixpences, he may thank his wife for it--God bless her!" + +And the man drew his hat with a jerk over his forehead, and left +immediately. + +This seemed the signal for dispersion, and all retired--not by way of +the bar-room, but out into the hall, and through the door leading upon +the porch that ran along in front of the house. Soon after the bar was +closed, and a dead silence reigned throughout the house. I saw no more +of Slade that night. Early in the morning, I left Cedarville; the +landlord looked very sober when he bade me good-bye through the +stage-door, and wished me a pleasant journey. + + + + +NIGHT THE FIFTH. + +SOME OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF TAVERN-KEEPING. + + +Nearly five years glided away before business again called me to +Cedarville. I knew little of what passed there in the interval, except +that Simon Slade had actually been indicted for manslaughter, in +causing the death of Morgan's child. He did not stand a trial, however, +Judge Lyman having used his influence, successfully, in getting the +indictment quashed. The judge, some people said, interested himself in +Slade more than was just seemly--especially, as he had, on several +occasions, in the discharge of his official duties, displayed what +seemed an over-righteous indignation against individuals arraigned for +petty offences. The impression made upon me by Judge Lyman had not been +favorable. He seemed a cold, selfish, scheming man of the world. That +he was an unscrupulous politician, was plain to me, in a single +evening's observation of his sayings and doings among the common herd +of a village bar-room. + +As the stage rolled, with a gay flourish of our driver's bugle, into +the village, I noted here and there familiar objects, and marked the +varied evidences of change. Our way was past the elegant residence and +grounds of Judge Hammond, the most beautiful and highly cultivated in +Cedarville. At least, such it was regarded at the time of my previous +visit. But, the moment my eyes rested upon the dwelling and its various +surroundings, I perceived an altered aspect. Was it the simple work of +time? or, had familiarity with other and more elegantly arranged +suburban homes, marred this in my eyes by involuntary contrast? Or had +the hand of cultivation really been stayed, and the marring fingers of +neglect suffered undisturbed to trace on every thing disfiguring +characters? + +Such questions were in my thoughts, when I saw a man in the large +portico of the dwelling, the ample columns of which, capped in rich +Corinthian, gave the edifice the aspect of a Grecian temple. He stood +leaning against one of the columns--his hat off, and his long gray hair +thrown back and resting lightly on his neck and shoulders. His head was +bent down upon his breast, and he seemed in deep abstraction. Just as +the coach swept by, he looked up, and in the changed features I +recognized Judge Hammond. His complexion was still florid, but his face +had grown thin, and his eyes were sunken. Trouble was written in every +lineament. Trouble? How inadequately does the word express my meaning! +Ah! at a single glance, what a volume of suffering was opened to the +gazer's eye. Not lightly had the foot of time rested there, as if +treading on odorous flowers, but heavily, and with iron-shod heel. This +I saw at a glance; and then, only the image of the man was present to +my inner vision, for the swiftly rolling stage-coach had borne me +onward past the altered home of the wealthiest denizen of Cedarville. +In a few minutes our driver reined up before the "Sickle and Sheaf," +and as I stepped to the ground, a rotund, coarse, red-faced man, whom I +failed to recognize as Simon Slade until he spoke, grasped my hand, and +pronounced my name. I could not but contrast, in thought, his +appearance with what it was when I first saw him, some six years +previously; nor help saying to myself: + +"So much for tavern-keeping!" + +As marked a change was visible everywhere in and around the "Sickle and +Sheaf." It, too, had grown larger by additions of wings and rooms; but +it had also grown coarser in growing larger. When built, all the doors +were painted white, and the shutters green, giving to the house a neat, +even tasteful appearance. But the white and green had given place to a +dark, dirty brown, that to my eyes was particularly unattractive. The +bar-room had been extended, and now a polished brass rod, or railing, +embellished the counter, and sundry ornamental attractions had been +given to the shelving behind the bar--such as mirrors, gilding, etc. +Pictures, too, were hung upon the walls, or more accurately speaking; +coarse colored lithographs, the subjects of which, if not really +obscene, were flashing, or vulgar. In the sitting-room, next to the +bar, I noticed little change of objects, but much in their condition. +The carpet, chairs, and tables were the same in fact, but far from +being the same in appearance. The room had a close, greasy odor, and +looked as if it had not been thoroughly swept and dusted for a week. + +A smart young Irishman was in the bar, and handed me the book in which +passenger's names were registered. After I had recorded mine, he +directed my trunk to be carried to the room designated as the one I was +to occupy. I followed the porter, who conducted me to the chamber which +had been mine at previous visits. Here, too, were evidences of change; +but not for the better. Then the room was as sweet and clean as it +could be; the sheets and pillow-cases as white as snow, and the +furniture shining with polish. Now all was dusty and dingy, the air +foul, and the bed-linen scarcely whiter than tow. No curtain made +softer the light as it came through the window; nor would the shutters +entirely keep out the glare, for several of the slats were broken. A +feeling of disgust came over me, at the close smell and foul appearance +of everything; so, after washing my hands and face, and brushing the +dust from my clothes, I went down stairs. The sitting-room was scarcely +more attractive than my chamber; so I went out upon the porch and took +a chair. Several loungers were here; hearty, strong-looking, but lazy +fellows, who, if they had anything to do, liked idling better than +working. One of them leaned his chair back against the wall of the +house, and was swinging his legs with a half circular motion, and +humming "Old Folks at Home." Another sat astride of a chair, with his +face turned toward, and his chin resting upon, the back. He was in too +lazy a condition of body and mind for motion or singing. A third had +slidden down in his chair, until he sat on his back, while his feet +were elevated above his head, and rested against one of the pillars +that supported the porch; while a fourth lay stretched out on a bench, +sleeping, his hat over his face to protect him from buzzing and biting +flies. + +Though all but the sleeping man eyed me inquisitively, as I took my +place among them, not one changed his position. The rolling of +eye-balls cost but little exertion; and with that effort they were +contented. + +"Hallo! who's that?" one of these loungers suddenly exclaimed, as a man +went swiftly by in a light sulky; and he started up, and gazed down the +road, seeking to penetrate the cloud of dust which the fleet rider had +swept up with hoofs and wheels. + +"I didn't see." The sleeping man aroused himself, rubbed his eyes, and +gazed along the road. + +"Who was it, Matthew?" The Irish bar-keeper now stood in the door. + +"Willy Hammond," was answered by Matthew. + +"Indeed! Is that his new three hundred dollar horse?" + +"Yes." + +"My! but he's a screamer!" + +"Isn't he! Most as fast as his young master." + +"Hardly," said one of the men, laughing. "I don't think anything in +creation can beat Hammond. He goes it with a perfect rush." + +"Doesn't he! Well; you may say what you please of him, he's as +good-hearted a fellow as ever walked; and generous to a fault." + +"His old dad will agree with you in the last remark," said Matthew. + +"No doubt of that, for he has to stand the bills," was answered. + +"Yes, whether he will or no, for I rather think Willy has, somehow or +other, got the upper hand of him." + +"In what way?" + +"It's Hammond and Son, over at the mill and distillery." + +"I know; but what of that!" + +"Willy was made the business man--ostensibly--in order, as the old man +thought, to get him to feel the responsibility of the new position, and +thus tame him down." + +"Tame HIM down! Oh, dear! It will take more than business to do that. +The curb was applied too late." + +"As the old gentleman has already discovered, I'm thinking, to his +sorrow." + +"He never comes here any more; does he, Matthew?" + +"Who?" + +"Judge Hammond." + +"Oh, dear, no. He and Slade had all sorts of a quarrel about a year +ago, and he's never darkened our doors since." + +"It was something about Willy and--." The speaker did not mention any +name, but winked knowingly and tossed his head toward the entrance of +the house, to indicate some member of Slade's family. + +"I believe so." + +"D'ye think Willy really likes her?" + +Matthew shrugged his shoulders, but made no answer. + +"She's a nice girl," was remarked in an under tone, "and good enough +for Hammond's son any day; though, if she were my daughter, I'd rather +see her in Jericho than fond of his company." + +"He'll have plenty of money to give her. She can live like a queen." + +"For how long?" + +"Hush!" came from the lips of Matthew. "There she is now." + +I looked up, and saw at a short distance from the house, and +approaching, a young lady, in whose sweet, modest face, I at once +recognized Flora Slade, Five years had developed her into a beautiful +woman. In her alone, of all that appertained to Simon Slade, there was +no deterioration. Her eyes were as mild and pure as when first I met +her at gentle sixteen, and her father said "My daughter," with such a +mingling of pride and affection in his tone. She passed near where I +was sitting, and entered the house. A closer view showed me some marks +of thought and suffering; but they only heightened the attraction of +her face. I failed not to observe the air of respect with which all +returned her slight nod and smile of recognition. + +"She's a nice girl, and no mistake--the flower of this flock," was +said, as soon as she passed into the house. + +"Too good for Willy Hammond, in my opinion," said Matthew. "Clever and +generous as people call him." + +"Just my opinion," was responded. "She's as pure and good, almost, as +an angel; and he?--I can tell you what--he's not the clean thing. He +knows a little too much of the world--on its bad side, I mean." + +The appearance of Slade put an end to this conversation. A second +observation of his person and countenance did not remove the first +unfavorable impression. His face had grown decidedly bad in expression, +as well as gross and sensual. The odor of his breath, as he took a +chair close to where I was sitting, was that of one who drank +habitually and freely; and the red, swimming eyes evidenced, too +surely, a rapid progress toward the sad condition of a confirmed +inebriate. There was, too, a certain thickness of speech, that gave +another corroborating sign of evil progress. + +"Have you seen anything of Frank this afternoon?" he inquired of +Matthew, after we had passed a few words. + +"Nothing," was the bar-keeper's answer. + +"I saw him with Tom Wilkins as I came over," said one of the men who +was sitting in the porch. + +"What was he doing with Tom Wilkins?" said Slade, in a fretted tone of +voice. "He doesn't seem very choice in his company." + +"They were gunning." + +"Gunning!" + +"Yes. They both had fowling-pieces. I wasn't near enough to ask where +they were going." + +This information disturbed Slade a good deal. After muttering to +himself a little while, he started up and went into the house. + +"And I could have told him a little more, had I been so inclined," said +the individual who mentioned the fact that Frank was with Tom Wilkins. + +"What more?" inquired Matthew. + +"There was a buggy in the case; and a champagne basket. What the latter +contained you can easily guess." + +"Whose buggy?" + +"I don't know anything about the buggy; but if 'Lightfoot' doesn't sink +in value a hundred dollars or so before sundown, call me a false +prophet." + +"Oh, no," said Matthew, incredulously. "Frank wouldn't do an outrageous +thing like that. Lightfoot won't be in a condition to drive for a month +to come." + +"I don't care. She's out now; and the way she was putting it down when +I saw her, would have made a locomotive look cloudy." + +"Where did he get her?" was inquired. + +"She's been in the six-acre field, over by Mason's Bridge, for the last +week or so," Matthew answered. "Well; all I have to say," he added, "is +that Frank ought to be slung up and well horse-whipped. I never saw +such a young rascal. He cares for no good, and fears no evil. He's the +worst boy I ever saw." + +"It would hardly do for you to call him a boy to his face," said one of +the men, laughing. + +"I don't have much to say to him in any way," replied Matthew, "for I +know very well that if we ever do get into a regular quarrel, there'll +be a hard time of it. The same house will not hold us afterward--that's +certain. So I steer clear of the young reprobate." + +"I wonder his father don't put him to some business," was remarked. +"The idle life he now leads will be his ruin." + +"He was behind the bar for a year or two." + +"Yes; and was smart at mixing a glass--but--" + +"Was himself becoming too good a customer?" + +"Precisely. He got drunk as a fool before reaching his fifteenth year." + +"Good gracious!" I exclaimed, involuntarily. + +"It's true, sir," said the last speaker, turning to me, "I never saw +anything like it. And this wasn't all bar-room talk, which, as you may +know, isn't the most refined and virtuous in the world. I wouldn't like +my son to hear much of it. Frank was always an eager listener to +everything that was said, and in a very short time became an adept in +slang and profanity. I'm no saint myself; but it's often made my blood +run cold to hear him swear." + +"I pity his mother," said I; for my thought turned naturally to Mrs. +Slade. + +"You may well do that," was answered. "I doubt if Cedarville holds a +sadder heart. It was a dark day for her, let me tell you, when Simon +Slade sold his mill and built this tavern. She was opposed to it at the +beginning." + +"I have inferred as much." + +"I know it," said the man. "My wife has been intimate with her for +years. Indeed, they have always been like sisters. I remember very well +her coming to our house, about the time the mill was sold, and crying +about it as if her heart would break. She saw nothing but sorrow and +trouble ahead. Tavern-keeping she had always regarded as a low +business, and the change from a respectable miller to a lazy +tavern-keeper, as she expressed it, was presented to her mind as +something disgraceful. I remember, very well, trying to argue the point +with her--assuming that it was quite as respectable to keep tavern as +to do anything else; but I might as well have talked to the wind. She +was always a pleasant, hopeful, cheerful woman before that time, but, +really, I don't think I've seen a true smile on her face since." + +"That was a great deal for a man to lose," said I. + +"What?" he inquired, not clearly understanding me. + +"The cheerfull face of his wife." + +"The face was but an index of her heart," said he. + +"So much the worse." + +"True enough for that. Yes, it was a great deal to lose. + +"What has he gained that will make up for this?" + +The man shrugged his shoulders. + +"What has he gained?" I repeated. "Can you figure it up?" + +"He's a richer man, for one thing." + +"Happier?" + +There was another shrug of the shoulders. "I wouldn't like to say that." + +"How much richer?" + +"Oh, a great deal. Somebody was saying, only yesterday, that he +couldn't be worth less than thirty thousand dollars." + +"Indeed? So much." + +"Yes." + +"How has he managed to accumulate so rapidly?" + +"His bar has a large run of custom. And, you know, that pays +wonderfully." + +"He must have sold a great deal of liquor in six years." + +"And he has. I don't think I'm wrong in saying that in the six years +which have gone by since the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was opened, more liquor +has been drank than in the previous twenty years." + +"Say forty," remarked a man who had been a listener to what we said. + +"Let it be forty then," was the according answer. + +"How comes this?" I inquired. "You had a tavern here before the 'Sickle +and Sheaf' was opened." + +"I know we had, and several places besides, where liquor was sold. But, +everybody far and near knew Simon Slade the miller, and everybody liked +him. He was a good miller, and a cheerful, social, chatty sort of man +putting everybody in a good humor who came near him. So it became the +talk everywhere, when he built this house, which he fitted up nicer +than anything that had been seen in these parts. Judge Hammond, Judge +Lyman, Lawyer Wilson, and all the big bugs of the place at once +patronized the new tavern, and of course, everybody else did the same. +So, you can easily see how he got such a run." + +"It was thought, in the beginning," said I, "that the new tavern was +going to do wonders for Cedarville." + +"Yes," answered the man laughing, "and so it has." + +"In what respect?" + +"Oh, in many. It has made some men richer, and some poorer." + +"Who has it made poorer?" + +"Dozens of people. You may always take it for granted, when you see a +tavern-keeper who has a good run at his bar, getting rich, that a great +many people are getting poor." + +"How so?" I wished to hear in what way the man who was himself, as was +plain to see, a good customer at somebody's bar, reasoned on the +subject. + +"He does not add to the general wealth. He produces nothing. He takes +money from his customers, but gives them no article of value in +return--nothing that can be called property, personal or real. He is +just so much richer and they just so much poorer for the exchange. Is +it not so?" + +I readily assented to the position as true, and then said-- + +"Who, in particular, is poorer?" + +"Judge Hammond, for one." + +"Indeed! I thought the advance in his property, in consequence of the +building of this tavern, was so great, that he was reaping a rich +pecuniary harvest." + +"There was a slight advance in property along the street after the +'Sickle and Sheaf' was opened, and Judge Hammond was benefited thereby. +Interested parties made a good deal of noise about it; but it didn't +amount to much, I believe." + +"What has caused the judge to grow poorer?" + +"The opening of this tavern, as I just said." + +"In what way did it affect him?" + +"He was among Slade's warmest supporters, as soon as he felt the +advance in the price of building lots, called him one of the most +enterprising men in Cedarville--a real benefactor to the place--and all +that stuff. To set a good example of patronage, he came over every day +and took his glass of brandy, and encouraged everybody else that he +could influence to do the same. Among those who followed his example +was his son Willy. There was not, let me tell you, in all the country +for twenty miles around, a finer young man than Willy, nor one of so +much promise, when this man-trap"--he let his voice fall, and glanced +around, as he thus designated Slade's tavern--"was opened; and now, +there is not one dashing more recklessly along the road to ruin. When +too late, his father saw that his son was corrupted, and that the +company he kept was of a dangerous character. Two reasons led him to +purchase Slade's old mill, and turn it into a factory and a distillery. +Of course, he had to make a heavy outlay for additional buildings, +machinery, and distilling apparatus. The reasons influencing him were +the prospect of realizing a large amount of money, especially in +distilling, and the hope of saving Willy, by getting him closely +engaged and interested in business. To accomplish, more certainly, the +latter end, he unwisely transferred to his son, as his own capital, +twenty thousand dollars, and then formed with him a regular +copartnership--giving Willy an active business control. + +"But the experiment, sir," added the man, emphatically, "has proved a +failure. I heard yesterday, that both mill and distillery were to be +shut up, and offered for sale." + +"They did not prove as money-making as was anticipated?" + +"No, not under Willy Hammond's management. He had made too many bad +acquaintances--men who clung to him because he had plenty of money at +his command, and spent it as freely as water. One-half of his time he +was away from the mill, and while there, didn't half attend to +business. I've heard it said--and I don't much doubt its truth--that +he's squandered his twenty thousand dollars, and a great deal more +besides." + +"How is that possible?" + +"Well; people talk, and not always at random. There's been a man +staying here, most of his time, for the last four or five years, named +Green. He does not do anything, and don't seem to have any friends in +the neighborhood. Nobody knows where he came from, and he is not at all +communicative on that head himself. Well, this man became acquainted +with young Hammond after Willy got to visiting the bar here, and +attached himself to him at once. They have, to all appearance, been +fast friends ever since; riding about, or going off on gunning or +fishing excursions almost every day, and secluding themselves somewhere +nearly every evening. That man, Green, sir, it is whispered, is a +gambler; and I believe it. Granted, and there is no longer a mystery as +to what Willy does with his own and his father's money." + +I readily assented to this view of the case. + +"And so assuming that Green is a gambler," said I, "he has grown +richer, in consequence of the opening of a new and more attractive +tavern in Cedarville." + +"Yes, and Cedarville is so much the poorer for all his gains; for I've +never heard of his buying a foot of ground, or in any way encouraging +productive industry. He's only a blood-sucker." + +"It is worse than the mere abstraction of money," I remarked; "he +corrupts his victims, at the same time that he robs them." + +"True." + +"Willy Hammond may not be his only victim," I suggested. + +"Nor is he, in my opinion. I've been coming to this bar, nightly, for a +good many years--a sorry confession for a man to make, I must own," he +added, with a slight tinge of shame; "but so it is. Well, as I was +saying, I've been coming to this bar, nightly, for a good many years, +and I generally see all that is going on around me. Among the regular +visitors are at least half a dozen young men, belonging to our best +families--who have been raised with care, and well educated. That their +presence here is unknown to their friends, I am quite certain--or, at +least, unknown and unsuspected by some of them. They do not drink a +great deal yet; but all try a glass or two. Toward nine o'clock, often +at an earlier hour, you will see one and another of them go quietly out +of the bar, through the sitting-room, preceded, or soon followed, by +Green and Slade. At any hour of the night, up to one or two, and +sometimes three o'clock, you can see light streaming through the rent +in a curtain drawn before a particular window, which I know to be in +the room of Harvey Green. These are facts, sir; and you can draw your +own conclusion. I think it a very serious matter." + +"Why does Slade go out with these young men?" I inquired. "Do you think +he gambles also?" + +"If he isn't a kind of a stool-pigeon for Harvey Green, then I'm +mistaken again." + +"Hardly. He cannot, already, have become so utterly unprincipled." + +"It's a bad school, sir, this tavern-keeping," said the man. + +"I readily grant you that." + +"And it's nearly seven years since he commenced to take lessons. A +great deal may be learned, sir, of good or evil, in seven years, +especially if any interest be taken in the studies." + +"True." + +"And it's true in this case, you may depend upon it. Simon Slade is not +the man he was, seven years ago. Anybody with half an eye can see that. +He's grown selfish, grasping, unscrupulous, and passionate. There could +hardly be a greater difference between men than exists between Simon +Slade the tavern-keeper, and Simon Slade the miller." + +"And intemperate, also?" I suggested. + +"He's beginning to take a little too much," was answered. + +"In that case, he'll scarcely be as well off five years hence as he is +now." + +"He's at the top of the wheel, some of us think." + +"What has led to this opinion?" + +"He's beginning to neglect his house, for one thing." + +"A bad sign." + +"And there is another sign. Heretofore, he has always been on hand, +with the cash, when desirable property went off, under forced sale, at +a bargain. In the last three or four months, several great sacrifices +have been made, but Simon Slade showed no inclination to buy. Put this +fact against another,--week before last, he sold a house and lot in the +town for five hundred dollars less than he paid for them, a year +ago--and for just that sum less than their true value." + +"How came that?" I inquired. + +"Ah! there's the question! He wanted money; though for what purpose he +has not intimated to any one, as far as I can learn." + +"What do you think of it?" + +"Just this. He and Green have been hunting together in times past; but +the professed gambler's instincts are too strong to let him spare even +his friend in evil. They have commenced playing one against the other." + +"Ah! you think so?" + +"I do; and if I conjecture rightly, Simon Slade will be a poorer man, +in a year from this time, than he is now." + +Here our conversation was interrupted. Some one asked my talkative +friend to go and take a drink, and he, nothing loath, left me without +ceremony. + +Very differently served was the supper I partook of on that evening, +from the one set before me on the occasion of my first visit to the +"Sickle and Sheaf." The table-cloth was not merely soiled, but +offensively dirty; the plates, cups, and saucers, dingy and sticky; the +knives and forks unpolished; and the food of a character to satisfy the +appetite with a very few mouthfuls. Two greasy-looking Irish girls +waited on the table, at which neither landlord nor landlady presided. I +was really hungry when the supper-bell rang; but the craving of my +stomach soon ceased in the atmosphere of the dining-room, and I was the +first to leave the table. + +Soon after the lamps were lighted, company began to assemble in the +spacious bar-room, where were comfortable seats, with tables, +newspapers, backgammon boards, dominoes, etc. The first act of nearly +every one who came in was to call for a glass of liquor; and sometimes +the same individual drank two or three times in the course of half an +hour, on the invitation of new comers who were convivially inclined. + +Most of those who came in were strangers to me. I was looking from face +to face to see if any of the old company were present, when one +countenance struck me as familiar. I was studying it, in order, if +possible, to identify the person, when some one addressed him as +"Judge." + +Changed as the face was, I now recognized it as that of Judge Lyman. +Five years had marred that face terribly. It seemed twice the former +size; and all its bright expression was gone. The thickened and +protruding eyelids half closed the leaden eyes, and the swollen lips +and cheeks gave to his countenance a look of all predominating +sensuality. True manliness had bowed itself in debasing submission to +the bestial. He talked loudly, and with a pompous dogmatism--mainly on +political subjects--but talked only from memory; for any one could see, +that thought came into but feeble activity. And yet, derationalized, so +to speak, as he was, through drink, he had been chosen a representative +in Congress, at the previous election, on the anti-temperance ticket, +and by a very handsome majority. He was the rum candidate; and the rum +interest, aided by the easily swayed "indifferents," swept aside the +claims of law, order, temperance, and good morals; and the district +from which he was chosen as a National Legislator sent him up to the +National Councils, and said in the act--"Look upon him we have chosen +as our representative, and see in him a type of our principles, our +quality, and our condition, as a community." + +Judge Lyman, around whom a little circle soon gathered, was very severe +on the temperance party, which, for two years, had opposed his +election, and which, at the last struggle, showed itself to be a +rapidly growing organization. During the canvass, a paper was published +by this party, in which his personal habits, character, and moral +principles were discussed in the freest manner, and certainly not in a +way to elevate him in the estimation of men whose opinion was of any +value. + +It was not much to be wondered at, that he assumed to think temperance +issues at the polls were false issues; and that when temperance men +sought to tamper with elections, the liberties of the people were in +danger; nor that he pronounced the whole body of temperance men as +selfish schemers and canting hypocrites. + +"The next thing we will have," he exclaimed, warming with his theme, +and speaking so loud that his voice sounded throughout the room, and +arrested every one's attention, "will be laws to fine any man who takes +a chew of tobacco, or lights a cigar. Touch the liberties of the people +in the smallest particular, and all guarantees are gone. The Stamp Act, +against which our noble forefathers rebelled, was a light measure of +oppression to that contemplated by these worse than fanatics." + +"You are right there, judge; right for once in your life, if you (hic) +were never right before!" exclaimed a battered-looking specimen of +humanity, who stood near the speaker, slapping Judge Lyman on the +shoulder familiarly as he spoke. "There's no telling what they will do. +There's (hic) my old uncle Josh Wilson, who's been keeper of the +Poor-house these ten years. Well, they're going to turn him out, if +ever they get the upper hand in Bolton county." + +"If? That word involves a great deal, Harry!" said Lyman. "We mus'n't +let them get the upper hand. Every man has a duty to perform to his +country in this matter, and every one must do his duty. But what have +they got against your Uncle Joshua? What has he been doing to offend +this righteous party?" + +"They've nothing against him, (hic) I believe. Only, they say, they're +not going to have a Poor-house in the county at all." + +"What! Going to turn the poor wretches out to starve?" said one. + +"Oh no! (hic)," and the fellow grinned, half shrewdly and half +maliciously, as he answered--"no, not that. But, when they carry the +day, there'll be no need of Poor-houses. At least, that's their +talk--and I guess maybe there's something in it, for I never knew a man +to go to the Poor-house, who hadn't (hic) rum to blame for his poverty. +But, you see, I'm interested in this matter. I go for keeping up the +Poor-house (hic); for I guess I'm travelling that road, and I shouldn't +like to get to the last milestone (hic) and find no snug quarters--no +Uncle Josh. You're safe for one vote, any how, old chap, on next +election day!" And the man's broad hand slapped the member's shoulder +again. "Huzza for the rummies! That's (hic) the ticket! Harry Grimes +never deserts his friends. True as steel!" + +"You're a trump!" returned Judge Lyman, with low familiarity. "Never +fear about the Poor-house and Uncle Josh. They're all safe." + +"But look here, judge," resumed the man. "It isn't only the Poor-house, +the jail is to go next." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes, that's their talk; and I guess they ain't far out of the way, +neither. What takes men to jail? You can tell us something about that, +judge, for you've jugged a good many in your time. Didn't pretty much +all of 'em drink rum (hic)?" + +But the judge answered nothing. + +"Silence (hic) gives consent," resumed Grimes. "And they say more; once +give 'em the upper hand--and they're confident of beating us--and the +Courthouse will be to let. As for judges and lawyers, they'll starve, +or go into some better business. So you see, (hic) judge, your +liberties are in danger. But fight hard, old fellow; and if you must +die, (hic) die game!" + +How well Judge Lyman relished this mode of presenting the case, was not +very apparent; he was too good a politician and office-seeker, to show +any feeling on the subject, and thus endanger a vote. Harry Grimes' +vote counted one, and a single vote sometimes gained or lost an +election. + +"One of their gags," he said, laughing. "But I'm too old a stager not +to see the flimsiness of such pretensions. Poverty and crime have their +origin in the corrupt heart, and their foundations are laid long and +long before the first step is taken on the road to inebriety. It is +easy to promise results; for only the few look at causes, and trace +them to their effects." + +"Rum and ruin (hic). Are they not cause and effect?" asked Grimes. + +"Sometimes they are," was the half extorted answer. + +"Oh, Green, is that you?" exclaimed the judge, as Harvey Green came in +with a soft cat-like step. He was, evidently, glad of a chance to get +rid of his familiar friend and elector. + +I turned my eyes upon the man, and read his face closely. It was +unchanged. The same cold, sinister eye; the same chiselled mouth, so +firm now, and now yielding so elastically; the same smile "from the +teeth outward"--the same lines that revealed his heart's deep, dark +selfishness. If he had indulged in drink during the five intervening +years, it had not corrupted his blood, nor added thereto a single +degree of heat. + +"Have you seen anything of Hammond this evening?" asked Judge Lyman. + +"I saw him an hour or two ago," answered Green. + +"How does he like his new horse?" + +"He's delighted with him." + +"What was the price?" + +"Three hundred dollars." + +"Indeed!" + +The judge had already arisen, and he and Green were now walking side by +side across the bar-room floor. + +"I want to speak a word with you," I heard Lyman say. + +And then the two went out together. I saw no more of them during the +evening. + +Not long afterward, Willy Hammond came in. Ah! there was a sad change +here; a change that in no way belied the words of Matthew the +bar-keeper. He went up to the bar, and I heard him ask for Judge Lyman. +The answer was in so low a voice that it did not reach my ear. + +With a quick, nervous motion, Hammond threw his hand toward a row of +decanters on the shelf behind the bar-keeper, who immediately set one +of them containing brandy before him. From this he poured a tumbler +half full, and drank it off at a single draught, unmixed with water. + +He then asked some further question, which I could not hear, +manifesting, as it appeared, considerable excitement of mind. In +answering him, Matthew glanced his eyes upward, as if indicating some +room in the house. The young man then retired, hurriedly, through the +sitting-room. + +"What's the matter with Willy Hammond tonight?" asked some one of the +bar-keeper. "Who's he after in such a hurry?" + +"He wants to see Judge Lyman," replied Matthew. + +"Oh!" + +"I guess they're after no good," was remarked. + +"Not much, I'm afraid." + +Two young men, well dressed, and with faces marked by intelligence, +came in at the moment, drank at the bar, chatted a little while +familiarly with the bar-keeper, and then quietly disappeared through +the door leading into the sitting-room. I met the eyes of the man with +whom I had talked during the afternoon, and his knowing wink brought to +mind his suggestion, that in one of the upper rooms gambling went on +nightly, and that some of the most promising young men of the town had +been drawn, through the bar attraction, into this vortex of ruin. I +felt a shudder creeping along my nerves. + +The conversation that now went on among the company was of such an +obscene and profane character that, in disgust, I went out. The night +was clear, the air soft, and the moon shining down brightly. I walked +for some time in the porch, musing on what I had seen and heard; while +a constant stream of visitors came pouring into the bar-room. Only a +few of these remained. The larger portion went in quickly, took their +glass, and then left, as if to avoid observation as much as possible. + +Soon after I commenced walking in the porch, I noticed an elderly lady +go slowly by, who, in passing, slightly paused, and evidently tried to +look through the bar-room door. The pause was but for an instant. In +less than ten minutes she came back, again stopped--this time +longer--and again moved off slowly, until she passed out of sight. I +was yet thinking about her, when, on lifting my eyes from the ground, +she was advancing along the road, but a few rods distant. I almost +started at seeing her, for there no longer remained a doubt on my mind, +that she was some trembling, heartsick woman, in search of an erring +son, whose feet were in dangerous paths. Seeing me, she kept on, though +lingeringly. She went but a short distance before returning; and this +time, she moved in closer to the house, and reached a position that +enabled her eyes to range through a large portion of the bar-room. A +nearer inspection appeared to satisfy her. She retired with quicker +steps; and did not again return during the evening. + +Ah! what a commentary upon the uses of an attractive tavern was here! +My heart ached, as I thought of all that unknown mother had suffered, +and was doomed to suffer. I could not shut out the image of her +drooping form as I lay upon my pillow that night; she even haunted me +in my dreams. + + + + +NIGHT THE SIXTH. + +MORE CONSEQUENCES. + + +The landlord did not make his appearance on the next morning until +nearly ten o'clock; and then he looked like a man who had been on a +debauch. It was eleven before Harvey Green came down. Nothing about him +indicated the smallest deviation from the most orderly habit. Clean +shaved, with fresh linen, and a face, every line of which was smoothed +into calmness, he looked as if he had slept soundly on a quiet +conscience, and now hailed the new day with a tranquil spirit. + +The first act of Slade was to go behind the bar and take a stiff glass +of brandy and water; the first act of Green, to order beefsteak and +coffee for his breakfast. I noticed the meeting between the two men, on +the appearance of Green. There was a slight reserve on the part of +Green, and an uneasy embarrassment on the part of Slade. Not even the +ghost of a smile was visible in either countenance. They spoke a few +words together, and then separated as if from a sphere of mutual +repulsion. I did not observe them again in company during the day. + +"There's trouble over at the mill," was remarked by a gentleman with +whom I had some business transactions in the afternoon. He spoke to a +person who sat in his office. + +"Ah! what's the matter?" said the other. + +"All the hands were discharged at noon, and the mill shut down." + +"How comes that?" + +"They've been losing money from the start." + +"Rather bad practice, I should say." + +"It involves some bad practices, no doubt." + +"On Willy's part?" + +"Yes. He is reported to have squandered the means placed in his hands, +after a shameless fashion." + +"Is the loss heavy?" + +"So it is said." + +"How much?" + +"Reaching to thirty or forty thousand dollars. But this is rumor, and, +of course, an exaggeration." + +"Of course. No such loss as that could have been made. But what was +done with the money? How could Willy have spent it? He dashes about a +great deal; buys fast horses, drinks rather freely, and all that; but +thirty or forty thousand dollars couldn't escape in this way." + +At the moment a swift trotting horse, bearing a light sulky and a man, +went by. + +"There goes young Hammond's three hundred dollar animal," said the last +speaker. + +"It was Willy Hammond's yesterday. But there has been a change of +ownership since then; I happen to know." + +"Indeed." + +"Yes. The man Green, who has been loafing about Cedarville for the last +few years--after no good, I can well believe--came into possession +to-day." + +"Ah! Willy must be very fickle-minded. Does the possession of a coveted +object so soon bring satiety?" + +"There is something not clearly understood about the transaction. I saw +Mr. Hammond during the forenoon, and he looked terribly distressed." + +"The embarrassed condition of things at the mill readily accounts for +this." + +"True; but I think there are causes of trouble beyond the mere +embarrassments." + +"The dissolute, spendthrift habits of his son," was suggested. "These +are sufficient to weigh down the father's spirits,--to bow him to the +very dust." + +"To speak out plainly," said the other, "I am afraid that the young man +adds another vice to that of drinking and idleness." + +"What?" + +"Gaining." + +"No!" + +"There is little doubt of it in my mind. And it is further my opinion, +that his fine horse, for which he paid three hundred dollars only a few +days ago, has passed into the hands of this man Green, in payment of a +debt contracted at the gaming table." + +"You shock me. Surely, there can be no grounds for such a belief." + +"I have, I am sorry to say, the gravest reasons for what I allege. That +Green is a professional gambler, who was attracted here by the +excellent company that assembled at the 'Sickle and Sheaf' in the +beginning of the lazy miller's pauper-making experiment, I do not in +the least question. Grant this, and take into account the fact that +young Hammond has been much in his company, and you have sufficient +cause for the most disastrous effects." + +"If this be really so," observed the gentleman, over whose face a +shadow of concern darkened, "then Willy Hammond may not be his only +victim." + +"And is not, you may rest assured. If rumor be true, other of our +promising young men are being drawn into the whirling circles that +narrow toward a vortex of ruin." + +In corroboration of this, I mentioned the conversation I had held with +one of the frequenters of Slade's bar room, on this very subject; and +also what I had myself observed on the previous evening. + +The man, who had until now been sitting quietly in a chair, started up, +exclaiming as he did so-- + +"Merciful heaven! I never dreamed of this! Whose sons are safe?" + +"No man's," was the answer of the gentleman in whose office we were +sitting--"No man's--while there are such open doors to ruin as you may +find at the 'Sickle and Sheaf.' Did not you vote the anti-temperance +ticket at the last election?" + +"I did," was the answer; "and from principle." + +"On what were your principles based?" was inquired. + +"On the broad foundations of civil liberty." + +"The liberty to do good or evil, just as the individual may choose?" + +"I would not like to say that. There are certain evils against which +there can be no legislation that would not do harm. No civil power in +this country has the right to say what a citizen shall eat or drink." + +"But may not the people, in any community, pass laws, through their +delegated law-makers, restraining evil-minded persons from injuring the +common good?" + +"Oh, certainly--certainly." + +"And are you prepared to affirm, that a drinking-shop, where young men +are corrupted, aye, destroyed, body and soul--does not work an injury +to the common good?" + +"Ah! but there must be houses of public entertainment." + +"No one denies this. But can that be a really Christian community which +provides for the moral debasement of strangers, at the same time that +it entertains them? Is it necessary that, in giving rest and +entertainment to the traveler, we also lead him into temptation?" + +"Yes--but--but--it is going too far to legislate on what we are to eat +and drink. It is opening too wide a door for fanatical oppression. We +must inculcate temperance as a right principle. We must teach our +children the evils of intemperance, and send them out into the world as +practical teachers of order, virtue and sobriety. If we do this, the +reform becomes radical, and in a few years there will be no bar-rooms, +for none will crave the fiery poison." + +"Of little value, my friend, will be, in far too many cases, your +precepts, if temptation invites our sons at almost every step of their +way through life. Thousands have fallen, and thousands are now +tottering, soon to fall. Your sons are not safe; nor are mine. We +cannot tell the day nor the hour when they may weakly yield to the +solicitation of some companion, and enter the wide open door of ruin. +And are we wise and good citizens to commission men to do the evil work +of enticement--to encourage them to get gain in corrupting and +destroying our children? To hesitate over some vague ideal of human +liberty when the sword is among us, slaying our best and dearest? Sir! +while you hold back from the work of staying the flood that is +desolating our fairest homes, the black waters are approaching your own +doors." + +There was a startling emphasis in the tones with which this last +sentence was uttered; and I do not wonder at the look of anxious alarm +that it called to the face of him whose fears it was meant to excite. + +"What do you mean, sir?" was inquired. + +"Simply, that your sons are in equal danger with others." + +"And is that all?" + +"They have been seen, of late, in the bar-room of the 'Sickle and +Sheaf.'" + +"Who says so?" + +"Twice within a week I have seen them going there," was answered. + +"Good heavens! No!" + +"It is true, my friend. But who is safe? If we dig pits, and conceal +them from view, what marvel if our own children fall therein?" + +"My sons going to a tavern?" The man seemed utterly confounded. "How +CAN I believe it? You must be in error, sir." + +"No. What I tell you is the simple truth. And if they go there--" + +The man paused not to hear the conclusion of the sentence, but went +hastily from the office. + +"We are beginning to reap as we have sown," remarked the gentleman, +turning to me as his agitated friend left the office. "As I told them +in the commencement it would be, so it is happening. The want of a good +tavern in Cedarville was over and over again alleged as one of the +chief causes of our want of thrift, and when Slade opened the 'Sickle +and Sheaf,' the man was almost glorified. The gentleman who has just +left us failed not in laudation of the enterprising landlord; the more +particularly, as the building of the new tavern advanced the price of +ground on the street, and made him a few hundred dollars richer. +Really, for a time, one might have thought, from the way people went +on, that Simon Slade was going to make every man's fortune in +Cedarville. But all that has been gained by a small advance in +property, is as a grain of sand to a mountain, compared with the +fearful demoralization that has followed." + +I readily assented to this, for I had myself seen enough to justify the +conclusion. + +As I sat in the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf" that evening, I +noticed, soon after the lamps were lighted, the gentleman referred to +in the above conversation, whose sons were represented as visitors to +the bar, come in quietly, and look anxiously about the room. He spoke +to no one, and, after satisfying himself that those he sought were not +there, went out. + +"What sent him here, I wonder?" muttered Slade, speaking partly to +himself, and partly aside to Matthew, the bar-keeper. + +"After the boys, I suppose," was answered. + +"I guess the boys are old enough to take care of themselves." + +"They ought to be," returned Matthew. + +"And are," said Slade. "Have they been here this evening?" + +"No, not yet." + +While they yet talked together, two young men whom I had seen on the +night before, and noticed particularly as showing signs of intelligence +and respectability beyond the ordinary visitors at a bar-room, came in. + +"John," I heard Slade say, in a low, confidential voice, to one of +them, "your old man was here just now." + +"No!" The young man looked startled--almost confounded. + +"It's a fact. So you'd better keep shady." + +"What did he want?" + +"I don't know." + +"What did he say?" + +"Nothing. He just came in, looked around, and then went out." + +"His face was as dark as a thunder-cloud," remarked Matthew. + +"Is No. 4 vacant?" inquired one of the young men. + +"Yes." + +"Send us up a bottle of wine and some cigars. And when Bill Harding and +Harry Lee come in, tell them where they can find us." + +"All right," said Matthew. "And now, take a friend's advice and make +yourselves scarce." + +The young men left the room hastily. Scarcely had they departed, ere I +saw the same gentleman come in, whose anxious face had, a little while +before, thrown its shadow over the apartment. He was the father in +search of his sons. Again he glanced around nervously; and this time +appeared to be disappointed. As he entered, Slade went out. + +"Have John and Wilson been here this evening?" he asked, coming up to +the bar and addressing Matthew. + +"They are not here;" replied Matthew, evasively. + +"But haven't they been here?" + +"They may have been here; I only came in from my supper a little while +ago." + +"I thought I saw them entering, only a moment or two ago." + +"They're not here, sir." Matthew shook his head and spoke firmly. + +"Where is Mr. Slade?" + +"In the house, somewhere." + +"I wish you would ask him to step here." + +Matthew went out, but in a little while came back with word that the +landlord was not to be found. + +"You are sure the boys are not here?" said the man, with a doubting, +dissatisfied manner. + +"See for yourself, Mr. Harrison!" + +"Perhaps they are in the parlor?" + +"Step in, sir," coolly returned Matthew. The man went through the door +into the sitting-room, but came back immediately. + +"Not there?" said Matthew. The man shook his head. "I don't think +you'll find them about here," added the bar-keeper. + +Mr. Harrison--this was the name by which Matthew addressed him--stood +musing and irresolute for some minutes. He could not be mistaken about +the entrance of his sons, and yet they were not there. His manner was +much perplexed. At length he took a seat, in a far corner of the +bar-room, somewhat beyond the line of observation, evidently with the +purpose of waiting to see if those he sought would come in. He had not +been there long, before two young men entered, whose appearance at once +excited his interest. They went up to the bar and called for liquor. As +Matthew set the decanter before them, he leaned over the counter, and +said something in a whisper. + +"Where?" was instantly ejaculated, in surprise, and both of the young +men glanced uneasily about the room. They met the eyes of Mr. Harrison, +fixed intently upon them. I do not think, from the way they swallowed +their brandy and water, that it was enjoyed very much. + +"What the deuce is he doing here?" I heard one of them say, in a low +voice. + +"After the boys, of course." + +"Have they come yet?" + +Matthew winked as he answered, "All safe." + +"In No. 4?" + +"Yes. And the wine and cigars all waiting for you." + +"Good." + +"You'd better not go through the parlor. Their old man's not at all +satisfied. He half suspects they're in the house. Better go off down +the street, and come back and enter through the passage." + +The young men, acting on this hint, at once retired, the eyes of +Harrison following them out. + +For nearly an hour Mr. Harrison kept his position, a close observer of +all that transpired. I am very much in error, if, before leaving that +sink of iniquity, he was not fully satisfied as to the propriety of +legislating on the liquor question. Nay, I incline to the opinion, +that, if the power of suppression had rested in his hands, there would +not have been, in the whole state, at the expiration of an hour, a +single dram-selling establishment. The goring of his ox had opened his +eyes to the true merits of the question. While he was yet in the +bar-room, young Hammond made his appearance. His look was wild and +excited. First he called for brandy, and drank with the eagerness of a +man long athirst. + +"Where is Green?" I heard him inquire, as he set his glass upon the +counter. + +"Haven't seen anything of him since supper," was answered by Matthew. + +"Is he in his room?" + +"I think it probable." + +"Has Judge Lyman been about here tonight?" + +"Yes. He spouted here for half an hour against the temperance party, as +usual, and then"--Matthew tossed his head toward the door leading to +the sitting-room. + +Hammond was moving toward this door, when, in glancing around the room, +he encountered the fixed gaze of Mr. Harrison--a gaze that instantly +checked his progress. Returning to the bar, and leaning over the +counter, he said to Matthew: + +"What has sent him here?" + +Matthew winked knowingly. + +"After the boys?" inquired Hammond. + +"Yes." + +"Where are they?" + +"Up-stairs." + +"Does he suspect this?" + +"I can't tell. If he doesn't think them here now, he is looking for +them to come in." + +"Do they know he is after them?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"All safe then?" + +"As an iron chest. If you want to see them, just rap at No. 4." + +Hammond stood for some minutes leaning on the bar, and then, not once +again looking toward that part of the room where Mr. Harrison was +seated, passed out through the door leading to the street. Soon +afterward Mr. Harrison departed. + +Disgusted as on the night before, with the unceasing flow of vile, +obscene, and profane language, I left my place of observation in the +bar-room and sought the open air. The sky was unobscured by a single +cloud, and the moon, almost at the full, shone abroad with more than +common brightness. I had not been sitting long in the porch, when the +same lady, whose movements had attracted my attention, came in sight, +walking very slowly--the deliberate pace assumed, evidently, for the +purpose of better observation. On coming opposite the tavern, she +slightly paused, as on the evening before, and then kept on, passing +down the street until she was beyond observation. + +"Poor mother!" I was still repeating to myself, when her form again met +my eyes. Slowly she advanced, and now came in nearer to the house. The +interest excited in my mind was so strong, that I could not repress the +desire I felt to address her, and so stepped from the shadow of the +porch. She seemed startled, and retreated backward several paces. + +"Are you in search of any one?" I inquired, respectfully. + +The woman now stood in a position that let the moon shine full upon her +face, revealing every feature. She was far past the meridian of life; +and there were lines of suffering and sorrow on her fine countenance. I +saw that her lips moved, but it was some time before I distinguished +the words. + +"Have you seen my son to-night? They say he comes here." + +The manner in which this was said caused a cold thrill to run over me. +I perceived that the woman's mind wandered. I answered: + +"No, ma'am; I haven't seen any thing of him." + +My tone of voice seemed to inspire her with confidence, for she came up +close to me, and bent her face toward mine. + +"It is a dreadful place," she whispered, huskily. "And they say he +comes here. Poor boy! He isn't what he used to be." + +"It is a very bad place," said I. "Come"--and I moved a step or two in +the direction from which I had seen her approaching--"come, you'd +better go away as quickly as possible." + +"But if he's here," she answered, not moving from where she stood, "I +might save him, you know." + +"I am sure you won't find him, ma'am," I urged. "Perhaps he is home, +now." + +"Oh, no! no!" And she shook her head mournfully. "He never comes home +until long after midnight. I wish I could see inside of the bar-room. +I'm sure he must be there." + +"If you will tell me his name, I will go in and search for him." + +After a moment of hesitation she answered: + +"His name is Willy Hammond." + +How the name, uttered so sadly, and yet with such moving tenderness by +the mother's lips, caused me to start--almost to tremble. + +"If he is in the house, ma'am," said I, firmly, "I will see him for +you." And I left her and went into the bar. + +"In what room do you think I will find young Hammond?" I asked of the +bar-keeper. He looked at me curiously, but did not answer. The question +had come upon him unanticipated. + +"In Harvey Green's room?" I pursued. + +"I don't know, I am sure. He isn't in the house to my knowledge. I saw +him go out about half an hour since." + +"Green's room is No.----?" + +"Eleven," he answered. + +"In the front part of the house?" + +"Yes." + +I asked no further question, but went to No. 11, and tapped on the +door. But no one answered the summons. I listened, but could not +distinguish the slightest sound within. Again I knocked; but louder. If +my ears did not deceive me, the chink of coin was heard. Still there +was neither voice nor movement. + +I was disappointed. That the room had inmates, I felt sure. +Remembering, now, what I had heard about light being seen in this room +through a rent in the curtain, I went down-stairs, and out into the +street. A short distance beyond the house, I saw, dimly, the woman's +form. She had only just passed in her movement to and fro. Glancing up +at the window, which I now knew to be the one in Green's room, light +through the torn curtain was plainly visible. Back into the house I +went, and up to No. 11. This time I knocked imperatively; and this time +made myself heard. + +"What's wanted?" came from within. I knew the voice to be that of +Harvey Green. + +I only knocked louder. A hurried movement and the low murmur of voices +was heard for some moments; then the door was unlocked and held partly +open by Green, whose body so filled the narrow aperture that I could +not look into the room. Seeing me, a dark scowl fell upon his +countenance. + +"What d'ye want?" he inquired, sharply. + +"Is Mr. Hammond here? If so, he is wanted downstairs." + +"No, he's not," was the quick answer. "What sent you here for him, hey?" + +"The fact that I expected to find him in your room," was my firm answer. + +Green was about shutting the door in my face, when some one placed a +hand on his shoulder, and said something to him that I could not hear. + +"Who wants to see him?" he inquired of me. + +Satisfied, now, that Hammond was in the room, I said, slightly +elevating my voice: + +"His mother." + +The words were an "open sesame" to the room. The door was suddenly +jerked open, and with a blanching face, the young man confronted me. + +"Who says my mother is down-stairs?" he demanded. + +"I come from her in search of you," I said. "You will find her in the +road, walking up and down in front of the tavern." + +Almost with a bound he swept by me, and descended the stairway at two +or three long strides. As the door swung open, I saw besides Green and +Hammond, the landlord and Judge Lyman. It needed not the loose cards on +the table near which the latter were sitting to tell me of their +business in that room. + +As quickly as seemed decorous, I followed Hammond. On the porch I met +him, coming in from the road. + +"You have deceived me, sir," said he, sternly--almost menacingly. + +"No, sir!" I replied. "What I told you was but too true. Look! There +she is now." + +The young man sprung around, and stood before the woman, a few paces +distant. + +"Mother! oh, mother! what HAS brought you here?" he exclaimed, in an +under tone, as he caught her arm, and moved away. He spoke--not +roughly, nor angrily--but with respect--half reproachfulness--and an +unmistakable tenderness. + +"Oh, Willy! Willy!" I heard her answer. "Somebody said you came here at +night, and I couldn't rest. Oh, dear. They'll murder you! I know they +will. Don't, oh!--" + +My ears took in the sense no further, though her pleading voice still +reached my ears. A few moments, and they were out of sight. + +Nearly two hours afterward, as I was ascending to my chamber, a man +brushed quickly by me. I glanced after him, and recognized the person +of young Hammond. He was going to the room of Harvey Green! + + + + +NIGHT THE SEVENTH. + +SOWING THE WIND. + + +The state of affairs in Cedarville, it was plain, from the partial +glimpses I had received, was rather desperate. Desperate, I mean, as +regarded the various parties brought before my observation. An eating +cancer was on the community, and so far as the eye could mark its +destructive progress, the ravages were tearful. That its roots were +striking deep, and penetrating, concealed from view, in many +unsuspected directions, there could be no doubt. What appeared on the +surface was but a milder form of the disease, compared with its hidden, +more vital, and more dangerous advances. + +I could not but feel a strong interest in some of these parties. The +case of young Hammond had, from the first, awakened concern; and now a +new element was added in the unlooked-for appearance of his mother on +the stage, in a state that seemed one of partial derangement. The +gentleman at whose office I met Mr. Harrison on the day before--the +reader will remember Mr. H. as having come to the "Sickle and Sheath" +in search of his son--was thoroughly conversant with the affairs of the +village, and I called upon him early in the day in order to make some +inquiries about Mrs. Hammond. My first question, as to whether he knew +the lady, was answered by the remark: + +"Oh, yes. She is one of my earliest friends." + +The allusion to her did not seem to awaken agreeable states of mind. A +slight shade obscured his face, and I noticed that he sighed +involuntarily. + +"Is Willy her only child?" + +"Her only living child. She had four; another son, and two daughters; +but she lost all but Willy when they were quite young. And," he added, +after a pause,--"it would have been better for her, and for Willy, too, +if he had gone to a better land with them." + +"His course of life must be to her a terrible affliction." said I. + +"It is destroying her reason," he replied, with emphasis, "He was her +idol. No mother ever loved a son with more self-devotion than Mrs. +Hammond loved her beautiful, fine-spirited, intelligent, affectionate +boy. To say that she was proud of him, is but a tame expression. +Intense love--almost idolatry--was the strong passion of her heart. How +tender, how watchful was her love! Except when at school, he was +scarcely ever separated from her. In order to keep him by her side, she +gave up her thoughts to the suggestion and maturing of plans for +keeping his mind active and interested in her society--and her success +was perfect. Up to the age of sixteen or seventeen, I do not think he +had a desire for other companionship than that of his mother. But this, +you know, could not last. The boy's maturing thought must go beyond the +home and social circle. The great world, that he was soon to enter, was +before him; and through loopholes that opened here and there he +obtained partial glimpses of what was beyond. To step forth into this +world, where he was soon to be a busy actor and worker, and to step +forth alone, next came in the natural order of progress. How his mother +trembled with anxiety, as she saw him leave her side! Of the dangers +that would surround his path, she knew too well; and these were +magnified by her fears--at least so I often said to her. Alas! how far +the sad reality has outrun her most fearful anticipations. + +"When Willy was eighteen--he was then reading law--I think I never saw +a young man of fairer promise. As I have often heard it remarked of +him, he did not appear to have a single fault. But he had a dangerous +gift--rare conversational powers, united with great urbanity of manner. +Every one who made his acquaintance became charmed with his society; +and he soon found himself surrounded by a circle of young men, some of +whom were not the best companions he might have chosen. Still, his own +pure instincts and honorable principles were his safeguard; and I never +have believed that any social allurements would have drawn him away +from the right path, if this accursed tavern had not been opened by +Slade." + +"There was a tavern here before the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was opened?" +said I. + +"Oh, yes. But it was badly kept, and the bar-room visitors were of the +lowest class. No respectable young man in Cedarville would have been +seen there. It offered no temptations to one moving in Willy's circle. +But the opening of the 'Sickle and Sheaf' formed a new era. Judge +Hammond--himself not the purest man in the world, I'm afraid--gave his +countenance to the establishment, and talked of Simon Slade as an +enterprising man who ought to be encouraged. Judge Lyman and other men +of position in Cedarville followed his bad example; and the bar-room of +the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was at once voted respectable. At all times of +the day and evening you could see the flower of our young men going in +and out, sitting in front of the bar-room, or talking hand-and-glove +with the landlord, who, from a worthy miller, regarded as well enough +in his place, was suddenly elevated into a man of importance, whom the +best in the village were delighted to honor. + +"In the beginning, Willy went with the tide, and, in an incredibly +short period, was acquiring a fondness for drink that startled and +alarmed his friends. In going in through Slade's open door, he entered +the downward way, and has been moving onward with fleet footsteps ever +since. The fiery poison inflamed his mind, at the same time that it +dimmed his noble perceptions. Fondness for mere pleasure followed, and +this led him into various sensual indulgences, and exciting modes of +passing the time. Every one liked him--he was so free, so +companionable, and so generous--and almost every one encouraged, rather +than repressed, his dangerous proclivities. Even his father, for a +time, treated the matter lightly, as only the first flush of young +life. 'I commenced sowing my wild oats at quite as early an age,' I +have heard him say. 'He'll cool off, and do well enough. Never fear.' +But his mother was in a state of painful alarm from the beginning. Her +truer instincts, made doubly acute by her yearning love, perceived the +imminent danger, and in all possible ways did she seek to lure him from +the path in which he was moving at so rapid a pace. Willy was always +very much attached to his mother, and her influence over him was +strong; but in this case he regarded her fears as chimerical. The way +in which he walked was, to him, so pleasant, and the companions of his +journey so delightful, that he could not believe in the prophesied +evil; and when his mother talked to him in her warning voice, and with +a sad countenance, he smiled at her concern, and made light of her +fears. + +"And so it went on, month after month, and year after year, until the +young man's sad declensions were the town talk. In order to throw his +mind into a new channel--to awaken, if possible, a new and better +interest in life--his father ventured upon the doubtful experiment we +spoke of yesterday; that of placing capital in his hands, and making +him an equal partner in the business of distilling and cotton-spinning. +The disastrous--I might say disgraceful--result you know. The young man +squandered his own capital and heavily embarrassed his father. + +"The effect of all this upon Mrs. Hammond has been painful in the +extreme. We can only dimly imagine the terrible suffering through which +she has passed. Her present aberration was first visible after a long +period of sleeplessness, occasioned by distress of mind. During the +whole of two weeks, I am told, she did not close her eyes; the most of +that time walking the floor of her chamber, and weeping. Powerful +anodynes, frequently repeated, at length brought relief. But, when she +awoke from a prolonged period of unconsciousness, the brightness of her +reason was gone. Since then, she has never been clearly conscious of +what was passing around her, and well for her, I have sometimes thought +it was, for even obscurity of intellect is a blessing in her case. Ah, +me! I always get the heart-ache, when I think of her." + +"Did not this event startle the young man from his fatal dream, if I +may so call his mad infatuation?" I asked. + +"No. He loved his mother, and was deeply afflicted by the calamity; but +it seemed as if he could not stop. Some terrible necessity appeared to +be impelling him onward. If he formed good resolutions--and I doubt not +that he did--they were blown away like threads of gossamer, the moment +he came within the sphere of old associations. His way to the mill was +by the 'Sickle and Sheaf'; and it was not easy for him to pass there +without being drawn into the bar, either by his own desire for drink, +or through the invitation of some pleasant companion, who was lounging +in front of the tavern." + +"There may have been something even more impelling than his love of +drink," said I. + +"What?" + +I related, briefly, the occurrences of the preceding night. + +"I feared--nay, I was certain--that he was in the toils of this man! +And yet your confirmation of the fact startles and confounds me," said +he, moving about his office in a disturbed manner. "If my mind has +questioned and doubted in regard to young Hammond, it questions and +doubts no longer. The word 'mystery' is not now written over the door +of his habitation. Great Father! and is it thus that our young men are +led into temptation? Thus that their ruin is premeditated, secured? +Thus that the fowler is permitted to spread his net in the open day, +and the destroyer licensed to work ruin in darkness? It is awful to +contemplate!" The man was strongly excited. + +"Thus it is," he continued; "and we who see the whole extent, origin, +and downward rushing force of a widely sweeping desolation, lift our +voices of warning almost in vain. Men who have everything at +stake--sons to be corrupted, and daughters to become the wives of young +men exposed to corrupting influences--stand aloof, questioning and +doubting as to the expediency of protecting the innocent from the +wolfish designs of bad men; who, to compass their own selfish ends, +would destroy them body and soul. We are called fanatics, ultraists, +designing, and all that, because we ask our law-makers to stay the +fiery ruin. Oh, no! we must not touch the traffic. All the dearest and +best interests of society may suffer; but the rum-seller must be +protected. He must be allowed to get gain, if the jails and poorhouses +are filled, and the graveyards made fat with the bodies of young men +stricken down in the flower of their years, and of wives and mothers +who have died of broken hearts. Reform, we are told, must commence at +home. We must rear temperate children, and then we shall have temperate +men. That when there are none to desire liquor, the rum-seller's +traffic will cease. And all the while society's true benefactors are +engaged in doing this, the weak, the unsuspecting, and the erring must +be left an easy prey, even if the work requires for its accomplishment +a hundred years. Sir! a human soul destroyed through the rum-seller's +infernal agency, is a sacrifice priceless in value. No considerations +of worldly gain can, for an instant, be placed in comparison therewith. +And yet souls are destroyed by thousands every year; and they will fall +by tens of thousands ere society awakens from its fatal indifference, +and lays its strong hand of power on the corrupt men who are scattering +disease, ruin, and death, broadcast over the land! + +"I always get warm on this subject," he added, repressing his +enthusiasm. "And who that observes and reflects can help growing +excited? The evil is appalling; and the indifference of the community +one of the strangest facts of the day." + +While he was yet speaking, the elder Mr. Hammond came in. He looked +wretched. The redness and humidity of his eyes showed want of sleep, +and the relaxed muscles of his face exhaustion from weariness and +suffering. He drew the person with whom I had been talking aside, and +continued an earnest conversation with him for many minutes--often +gesticulating violently. I could see his face, though I heard nothing +of what he said. The play of his features was painful to look upon, for +every changing muscle showed a new phase of mental suffering. + +"Try and see him, will you not?" he said, as he turned, at length, to +leave the office. + +"I will go there immediately," was answered. + +"Bring him home, if possible." + +"My very best efforts shall be made." + +Judge Hammond bowed and went out hurriedly. + +"Do you know the number of the room occupied by the man Green?" asked +the gentleman, as soon as his visitor had retired. + +"Yes. It is No. 11." + +"Willy has not been home since last night. His father, at this late +day, suspects Green to be a gambler. The truth flashed upon him only +yesterday; and this, added to his other sources of trouble, is driving +him, so he says, almost mad. As a friend, he wishes me to go to the +'Sickle and Sheaf,' and try and find Willy. Have you seen any thing of +him this morning?" + +I answered in the negative. + +"Nor of Green?" + +"No." + +"Was Slade about when you left the tavern?" + +"I saw nothing of him." + +"What Judge Hammond fears may be all too true--that, in the present +condition of Willy's affairs, which have reached the point of disaster, +his tempter means to secure the largest possible share of property yet +in his power to pledge or transfer,--to squeeze from his victim the +last drop of blood that remains, and then fling him, ruthlessly, from +his hands." + +"The young man must have been rendered almost desperate, or he would +never have returned, as he did, last night. Did you mention this to his +father?" + +"No. It would have distressed him the more, without effecting any good. +He is wretched enough. But time passes, and none is to be lost now. +Will you go with me?" + +I walked to the tavern with him; and we went into the bar together. Two +or three men were at the counter, drinking. + +"Is Mr. Green about this morning?" was asked by the person who had come +in search of young Hammond. + +"Haven't seen any thing of him." + +"Is he in his room?" + +"I don't know." + +"Will you ascertain for me?" + +"Certainly. Frank,"--and he spoke to the landlord's son, who was +lounging on a settee,--"I wish you would see if Mr. Green is in his +room." + +"Go and see yourself. I'm not your waiter," was growled back, in an +ill-natured voice. + +"In a moment I'll ascertain for you," said Matthew, politely. + +After waiting on some new customers, who were just entering, Matthew +went up-stairs to obtain the desired information. As he left the +bar-room, Frank got up and went behind the counter, where he mixed +himself a glass of liquor, and drank it off, evidently with real +enjoyment. + +"Rather a dangerous business for one so young as you are," remarked the +gentleman with whom I had come, as Frank stepped out of the bar, and +passed near where we were standing. The only answer to this was an +ill-natured frown, and an expression of face which said almost as +plainly as words, "It is none of your business." + +"Not there," said Matthew, now coming in. + +"Are you certain?" + +"Yes, sir." + +But there was a certain involuntary hesitation in the bar-keeper's +manner, which led to a suspicion that his answer was not in accordance +with the truth. We walked out together, conferring on the subject, and +both concluded that his word was not to be relied upon. + +"What is to be done?" was asked. + +"Go to Green's room," I replied, "and knock at the door. If he is +there, he may answer, not suspecting your errand." + +"Show me the room." + +I went up with him, and pointed out No. 11. He knocked lightly, but +there came no sound from within. He repeated the knock; all was silent. +Again and again he knocked, but there came back only a hollow +reverberation. + +"There's no one there," said he, returning to where I stood, and we +walked down-stairs together. On the landing, as we reached the lower +passage, we met Mrs. Slade. I had not, during this visit at Cedarville, +stood face to face with her before. Oh! what a wreck she presented, +with her pale, shrunken countenance, hollow, lustreless eyes, and bent, +feeble body. I almost shuddered as I looked at her. What a haunting and +sternly rebuking spectre she must have moved, daily, before the eyes of +her husband. + +"Have you noticed Mr. Green about this morning?" I asked. + +"He hasn't come down from his room yet," she replied. + +"Are you certain?" said my companion. "I knocked several times at the +door just now, but received no answer." + +"What do you want with him?" asked Mrs. Slade, fixing her eyes upon us. + +"We are in search of Willy Hammond; and it has been suggested that he +was with Green." + +"Knock twice lightly, and then three times more firmly," said Mrs. +Slade; and as she spoke, she glided past us with noiseless tread. + +"Shall we go up together?" + +I did not object; for, although I had no delegated right of intrusion, +my feelings were so much excited in the case, that I went forward, +scarcely reflecting on the propriety of so doing. + +The signal knock found instant answer. The door was softly opened, and +the unshaven face of Simon Slade presented itself. + +"Mr. Jacobs!" he said, with surprise in his tones. "Do you wish to see +me?" + +"No, sir; I wish to see Mr. Green," and with a quick, firm pressure +against the door, he pushed it wide open. The same party was there that +I had seen on the night before,--Green, young Hammond, Judge Lyman, and +Slade. On the table at which the three former were sitting, were cards, +slips of paper, an ink-stand and pens, and a pile of bank-notes. On a +side-table, or, rather, butler's tray, were bottles, decanters, and +glasses. + +"Judge Lyman! Is it possible?" exclaimed Mr. Jacobs, the name of my +companion. "I did not expect to find you here." + +Green instantly swept his hands over the table to secure the money and +bills it contained; but, ere he had accomplished his purpose, young +Hammond grappled three or four narrow strips of paper, and hastily tore +them into shreds. + +"You're a cheating scoundrel!" cried Green, fiercely, thrusting his +hand into his bosom as if to draw from thence a weapon; but the words +were scarcely uttered, ere Hammond sprung upon him with the fierceness +of a tiger, bearing him down upon the floor. Both hands were already +about the gambler's neck, and, ere the bewildered spectators could +interfere, and drag him off. Green was purple in the face, and nearly +strangled. + +"Call me a cheating scoundrel!" said Hammond, foaming at the mouth, as +he spoke,--"Me, whom you have followed like a thirsty blood-hound. Me! +whom you have robbed, and cheated, and debased from the beginning! Oh! +for a pistol to rid the earth of the blackest-hearted villain that +walks its surface. Let me go, gentlemen! I have nothing left in the +world to care for,--there is no consequence I fear. Let me do society +one good service before I die!" + +And, with one vigorous effort, he swept himself clear of the hands that +were pinioning him, and sprung again upon the gambler with the fierce +energy of a savage beast. By this time, Green had got his knife free +from its sheath, and, as Hammond was closing upon him in his blind +rage, plunged it into his side. Quick almost as lightning, the knife +was withdrawn, and two more stabs inflicted ere we could seize and +disarm the murderer. As we did so, Willy Hammond fell over with a deep +groan, the blood flowing from his side. + +In the terror and excitement that followed, Green rushed from the room. +The doctor, who was instantly summoned, after carefully examining the +wound, and the condition of the unhappy young man, gave it as his +opinion that he was fatally injured. + +Oh! the anguish of the father, who had quickly heard of the dreadful +occurrence, when this announcement was made. I never saw such fearful +agony in any human countenance. The calmest of all the anxious group +was Willy himself. On his father's face his eyes were fixed as if by a +kind of fascination. + +"Are you in much pain, my poor boy!" sobbed the old man, stooping over +him, until his long white hair mingled with the damp locks of the +sufferer. + +"Not much, father," was the whispered reply. "Don't speak of this to +mother, yet. I'm afraid it will kill her." + +What could the father answer? Nothing! And he was silent. + +"Does she know of it?" A shadow went over his face. + +Mr. Hammond shook his head. + +Yet, even as he spoke, a wild cry of distress was heard below. Some +indiscreet person had borne to the ears of the mother the fearful news +about her son, and she had come wildly flying toward the tavern, and +was just entering. + +"It is my poor mother," said Willy, a flush coming into his pale face. +"Who could have told her of this?" + +Mr. Hammond started for the door, but ere he had reached it, the +distracted mother entered. + +"Oh! Willy, my boy! my boy!" she exclaimed, in tones of anguish that +made the heart shudder. And she crouched down on the floor, the moment +she reached the bed whereon he lay, and pressed her lips--oh, so +tenderly and lovingly!--to his. + +"Dear mother! Sweet mother! Best of mothers!" He even smiled as he said +this; and, into the face now bent over him, looked up with glances of +unutterable fondness. + +"Oh, Willy! Willy! Willy! my son, my son!" And again her lips were laid +closely to his. + +Mr. Hammond now interfered, and endeavored to remove his wife, fearing +for the consequence upon his son. + +"Don't, father!" said Willy; "let her remain. I am not excited nor +disturbed. I am glad that she is here, now. It will be best for us +both." + +"You must not excite him, dear," said Mr. Hammond--"he is very weak." + +"I'll not excite him," answered the mother. "I'll not speak a word. +There, love"--and she laid her fingers softly upon the lips of her +son--"don't speak a single word." + +For only a few moments did she sit with the quiet formality of a nurse, +who feels how much depends on the repose of her patient. Then she began +weeping, moaning, and wringing her hands. + +"Mother!" The feeble voice of Willy stilled, instantly, the tempest of +feeling. "Mother, kiss me!" + +She bent down and kissed him. + +"Are you there, mother?" His eyes moved about, with a straining motion. + +"Yes, love, here I am." + +"I don't see you, mother. It's getting so dark. Oh, mother! mother!" he +shouted suddenly, starting up and throwing himself forward upon her +bosom--"save me! save me!" + +How quickly did the mother clasp her arms around him--how eagerly did +she strain him to her bosom! The doctor, fearing the worst +consequences, now came forward, and endeavored to release the arms of +Mrs. Hammond, but she resisted every attempt to do so. + +"I will save you, my son," she murmured in the ear of the young man. +"Your mother will protect you. Oh! if you had never left her side, +nothing on earth could have done you harm." + +"He is dead!" I heard the doctor whisper; and a thrill of horror went +through me. The words reached the ears of Mr. Hammond, and his groan +was one of almost mortal agony. + +"Who says he is dead?" came sharply from the lips of the mother, as she +pressed the form of her child back upon the bed from which he had +sprung to her arms, and looked wildly upon his face. One long scream of +horror told of her convictions, and she fell, lifeless, across the body +of her dead son! + +All in the room believed that Mrs. Hammond had only fainted. But the +doctor's perplexed, troubled countenance, as he ordered her carried +into another apartment, and the ghastliness of her face when it was +upturned to the light, suggested to every one what proved to be true. +Even to her obscured perceptions, the consciousness that her son was +dead came with a terrible vividness--so terrible, that it extinguished +her life. + +Like fire among dry stubble ran the news of this fearful event through +Cedarville. The whole town was wild with excitement. The prominent +fact, that Willy Hammond had been murdered by Green, whose real +profession was known by many, and now declared to all, was on every +tongue; but a hundred different and exaggerated stories as to the cause +and the particulars of the event were in circulation. By the time +preparations to remove the dead bodies of mother and son from the +"Sickle and Sheaf" to the residence of Mr. Hammond were completed, +hundreds of people, men, women, and children, were assembled around the +tavern and many voices were clamorous for Green; while some called out +for Judge Lyman, whose name, it thus appeared, had become associated in +the minds of the people with the murderous affair. The appearance, in +the midst of this excitement, of the two dead bodies, borne forth on +settees, did not tend to allay the feverish state of indignation that +prevailed. From more than one voice, I heard the words, "Lynch the +scoundrel!" + +A part of the crowd followed the sad procession, while the greater +portion, consisting of men, remained about the tavern. All bodies, no +matter for what purpose assembled, quickly find leading spirits who, +feeling the great moving impulse, give it voice and direction. It was +so in this case. Intense indignation against Green was firing every +bosom; and when a man elevated himself a few feet above the agitated +mass of humanity, and cried out: + +"The murderer must not escape!" + +A wild responding shout, terrible in its fierceness, made the air +quiver. + +"Let ten men be chosen to search the house and premises," said the +leading spirit. + +"Ay! ay! Choose them! Name them!" was quickly answered. + +Ten men were called by name, who instantly stepped in front of the +crowd. + +"Search everywhere; from garret to cellar; from hayloft to dog-kennel. +Everywhere! everywhere!" cried the man. + +And instantly the ten men entered the house. For nearly a quarter of an +hour, the crowd waited with increasing signs of impatience. These +delegates at length appeared, with the announcement that Green was +nowhere about the premises. It was received with a groan. + +"Let no man in Cedarville do a stroke of work until the murderer is +found," now shouted the individual who still occupied his elevated +position. + +"Agreed! agreed! No work in Cedarville until the murderer is found," +rang out fiercely. + +"Let all who have horses saddle and bridle them as quickly as possible, +and assemble, mounted, at the Court House." + +About fifty men left the crowd hastily. + +"Let the crowd part in the centre, up and down the road, starting from +a line in front of me." + +This order was obeyed. + +"Separate again, taking the centre of the road for a line." + +Four distinct bodies of men stood now in front of the tavern. + +"Now search for the murderer in every nook and corner, for a distance +of three miles from this spot; each party keeping to its own section; +the road being one dividing line, and a line through the centre of this +tavern the other. The horsemen will pursue the wretch to a greater +distance." + +More than a hundred acquiescing voices responded to this, as the man +sprung down from his elevation and mingled with the crowd, which began +instantly to move away on its appointed mission. + +As the hours went by, one, and another, and another, of the searching +party returned to the village, wearied with their efforts, or confident +that the murderer had made good his escape. The horsemen, too, began to +come in, during the afternoon, and by sundown, the last of them, worn +out and disappointed, made their appearance. + +For hours after the exciting events of the forenoon, there were but few +visitors at the "Sickle and Sheaf." Slade, who did not show himself +among the crowd, came down soon after its dispersion. He had shaved and +put on clean linen; but still bore many evidences of a night spent +without sleep. His eyes were red and heavy and the eyelids swollen; +while his skin was relaxed and colorless. As he descended the stairs, I +was walking in the passage. He looked shy at me, and merely nodded. +Guilt was written plainly on his countenance; and with it was blended +anxiety and alarm. That he might be involved in trouble, he had reason +to fear; for he was one of the party engaged in gambling in Green's +room, as both Mr. Jacobs and I had witnessed. + +"This is dreadful business," said he, as we met, face to face, half an +hour afterward. He did not look me steadily in the eyes. + +"It is horrible!" I answered. "To corrupt and ruin a young man, and +then murder him! There are few deeds in the catalogue of crime blacker +than this!" + +"It was done in the heat of passion," said the landlord, with something +of an apology in his manner. "Green never meant to kill him." + +"In peaceful intercourse with his fellow-men, why did he carry a deadly +weapon? There was murder in his heart, sir." + +"That is speaking very strongly." + +"Not stronger than the facts will warrant," I replied. "That Green is a +murderer in heart, it needed not this awful consummation to show. With +a cool, deliberate purpose, he has sought, from the beginning, to +destroy young Hammond." + +"It is hardly fair," answered Slade, "in the present feverish +excitement against Green, to assume such a questionable position. It +may do him a great wrong." + +"Did Willy Hammond speak only idle words, when he accused Green of +having followed him like a thirsty bloodhound?--of having robbed, and +cheated, and debased him from the beginning?" + +"He was terribly excited at the moment." + +"Yes," said I, "no ear that heard his words could for an instant doubt +that they were truthful utterances, wrung from a maddened heart." + +My earnest, positive manner had its effect upon Slade. He knew that +what I asserted, the whole history of Green's intercourse with young +Hammond would prove; and he had, moreover, the guilty consciousness of +being a party to the young man's ruin. His eyes cowered beneath the +steady gaze I fixed upon him. I thought of him as one implicated in the +murder, and my thoughts must have been visible in my face. + +"One murder will not justify another," said he. + +"There is no justification for murder on any plea," was my response. + +"And yet, if these infuriated men find Green, they will murder him." + +"I hope not. Indignation at a horrible crime has fearfully excited the +people. But I think their sense of justice is strong enough to prevent +the consequences you apprehend." + +"I would not like to be in Green's shoes," said the landlord, with an +uneasy movement. + +I looked him closely in the face. It was the punishment of the man's +crime that seemed so fearful in his eyes; not the crime itself. Alas! +how the corrupting traffic had debased him. + +My words were so little relished by Slade, that he found some ready +excuse to leave me. I saw little more of him during the day. + +As evening began to fall, the gambler's unsuccessful pursuers, one +after another, found their way to the tavern, and by the time night had +fairly closed in, the bar-room was crowded with excited and angry men, +chafing over their disappointment, and loud in their threats of +vengeance. That Green had made good his escape, was now the general +belief; and the stronger this conviction became, the more steadily did +the current of passion begin to set in a new direction. It had become +known to every one that, besides Green and young Hammond, Judge Lyman +and Slade were in the room engaged in playing cards. The merest +suggestion as to the complicity of these two men with Green in ruining +Hammond, and thus driving him mad, was enough to excite strong feelings +against them; and now that the mob had been cheated out of its victim, +its pent-up indignation sought eagerly some new channel. + +"Where's Slade?" some one asked, in a loud voice, from the centre of +the crowded bar-room. "Why does he keep himself out of sight?" + +"Yes; where's the landlord?" half a dozen voices responded. + +"Did he go on the hunt?" some one inquired. + +"No!" "No!" "No!" ran around the room. "Not he." + +"And yet, the murder was committed in his own house, and before his own +eyes!" + +"Yes, before his own eyes!" repeated one and another, indignantly. + +"Where's Slade? Where's the landlord? Has anybody seen him tonight? +Matthew, where's Simon Slade?" + +From lip to lip passed these interrogations; while the crowd of men +became agitated, and swayed to and fro. + +"I don't think he's home," answered the bar-keeper, in a hesitating +manner, and with visible alarm. + +"How long since he was here?" + +"I haven't seen him for a couple of hours." + +"That's a lie!" was sharply said. + +"Who says it's a lie?" Matthew affected to be strongly indignant. + +"I do!" And a rough, fierce-looking man confronted him. + +"What right have you to say so?" asked Matthew, cooling off +considerably. + +"Because you lie!" said the man, boldly. "You've seen him within a less +time than half an hour, and well you know it. Now, if you wish to keep +yourself out of this trouble, answer truly. We are in no mood to deal +with liars or equivocators. Where is Simon Slade?" + +"I do not know," replied Matthew, firmly. + +"Is he in the house?" + +"He may be, or he may not be. I am just as ignorant of his exact +whereabouts as you are." + +"Will you look for him?" + +Matthew stepped to the door, opening from behind the bar, and called +the name of Frank. + +"What's wanted?" growled the boy. + +"Is your father in the house?" + +"I don't know, nor don't care," was responded in the same ungracious +manner. + +"Someone bring him into the bar-room, and we'll see if we can't make +him care a little." + +The suggestion was no sooner made, than two men glided behind the bar, +and passed into the room from whence the voice of Frank had issued. A +moment after they reappeared, each grasping an arm of the boy, and +bearing him like a weak child between them. He looked thoroughly +frightened at this unlooked-for invasion of his liberty. + +"See here, young man." One of the leading spirits of the crowd +addressed him, as soon as he was brought in front of the counter. "If +you wish to keep out of trouble, answer our questions at once, and to +the point. We are in no mood for trifling. Where's your father?" + +"Somewhere about the house, I believe," Frank replied, in an humble +tone. He was no little scared at the summary manner with which he had +been treated. + +"How long since you saw him?" + +"Not long ago." + +"Ten minutes." + +"No; nearly half an hour." + +"Where was he then?" + +"He was going up-stairs." + +"Very well, we want him. See him, and tell him so." + +Frank went into the house, but came back into the bar-room after an +absence of nearly five minutes, and said that he could not find his +father anywhere. + +"Where is he then?" was angrily demanded. + +"Indeed, gentlemen, I don't know." Frank's anxious look and frightened +manner showed that he spoke truly. + +"There's something wrong about this--something wrong--wrong," said one +of the men. "Why should he be absent now? Why has he taken no steps to +secure the man who committed a murder in his own house, and before his +own eyes? + +"I shouldn't wonder if he aided him to escape," said another, making +this serious charge with a restlessness and want of evidence that +illustrated the reckless and unjust spirit by which the mob is ever +governed. + +"No doubt of it in the least!" was the quick and positive response. And +at once this erroneous conviction seized upon every one. Not a single +fact was presented. The simple, bold assertion, that no doubt existed +in the mind of one man as to Slade's having aided Green to escape, was +sufficient for the unreflecting mob. + +"Where is he? Where is he? Let us find him. He knows where Green is, +and he shall reveal the secret." + +This was enough. The passions of the crowd were at fever heat again. +Two or three men were chosen to search the house and premises, while +others dispersed to take a wider range. One of the men who volunteered +to go over the house was a person named Lyon, with whom I had formed +some acquaintance, and several times conversed with on the state of +affairs in Cedarville. He still remained too good a customer at the +bar. I left the bar at the same time that he did, and went up to my +room. We walked side by side, and parted at my door, I going in, and he +continuing on to make his searches. I felt, of course, anxious and much +excited, as well in consequence of the events of the day, as the +present aspect of things. My head was aching violently, and in the hope +of getting relief, I laid myself down. I had already lighted a candle, +and turned the key in my door to prevent intrusion. Only for a short +time did I lie, listening to the hum of voices that came with a hoarse +murmur from below, to the sound of feet moving along the passages, and +to the continual opening and shutting of doors, when something like +suppressed breathing reached my ears, I started up instantly, and +listened; but my quickened pulses were now audible to my own sense, and +obscured what was external. + +"It is only imagination," I said to myself. Still, I sat upright, +listening. + +Satisfied, at length, that all was mere fancy, I laid myself back on +the pillow, and tried to turn my thoughts away from the suggested idea +that some one was in the room. Scarcely had I succeeded in this, when +my heart gave a new impulse, as a sound like a movement fell upon my +ears. + +"Mere fancy!" I said to myself, as some one went past the door at the +moment. "My mind is overexcited." + +Still I raised my head, supporting it with my hand, and listened, +directing my attention inside, and not outside of the room. I was about +letting my head fall back upon the pillow, when a slight cough, so +distinct as not to be mistaken, caused me to spring to the floor, and +look under the bed. The mystery was explained. A pair of eyes glittered +in the candlelight. The fugitive, Green, was under my bed. For some +moments I stood looking at him, so astonished that I had neither +utterance nor decision; while he glared at me with a fierce defiance. I +saw that he was clutching a revolver. + +"Understand!" he said, in a grating whisper, "that I am not to be taken +alive." + +I let the blanket, which had concealed him from view, fall from my +hand, and then tried to collect my thoughts. + +"Escape is impossible," said I, again lifting the temporary curtain by +which he was hid. "The whole town is armed, and on the search; and +should you fall into the hands of the mob, in its present state of +exasperation, your life would not be safe an instant. Remain, then, +quiet, where you are, until I can see the sheriff, to whom you had +better resign yourself, for there's little chance for you except under +his protection." + +After a brief parley he consented that things should take this course, +and I went out, locking the room door after me, and started in search +of the sheriff. On the information I gave, the sheriff acted promptly. +With five officers, fully armed for defence, in case an effort were +made to get the prisoner out of their hands, he repaired immediately to +the "Sickle and Sheaf." I had given the key of my room into his +possession. + +The appearance of the sheriff, with his posse, was sufficient to start +the suggestion that Green was somewhere concealed in the house; and a +suggestion was only needed to cause the fact to be assumed, and +unhesitatingly declared. Intelligence went through the reassembling +crowd like an electric current, and ere the sheriff could manacle and +lead forth his prisoner, the stairway down which he had to come was +packed with bodies, and echoing with oaths and maledictions. + +"Gentlemen, clear the way!" cried the sheriff, as he appeared with the +white and trembling culprit at the head of the stairs. "The murderer is +now in the hands of the law, and will meet the sure consequences of his +crime." + +A shout of execration rent the air; but not a single individual stirred. + +"Give way, there! Give way!" And the sheriff took a step or two +forward, but the prisoner held back. + +"Oh, the murdering villain! The cursed blackleg! Where's Willy +Hammond?" was heard distinctly above the confused mingling of voices. + +"Gentlemen! the law must have its course; and no good citizen will +oppose the law. It is made for your protection--for mine--and for that +of the prisoner." + +"Lynch law is good enough for him," shouted a savage voice. "Hand him +over to us, sheriff, and we'll save you the trouble of hanging him, and +the county the cost of the gallows. We'll do the business right." + +Five men, each armed with a revolver, now ranged themselves around the +sheriff, and the latter said firmly: + +"It is my duty to see this man safely conveyed to prison; and I'm going +to do my duty. If there is any more blood shed here, the blame will +rest with you." And the body of officers pressed forward, the mob +slowly retreating before them. + +Green, overwhelmed with terror, held back. I was standing where I could +see his face. It was ghastly with mortal fear. Grasping his pinioned +arms, the sheriff forced him onward. After contending with the crowd +for nearly ten minutes, the officers gained the passage below; but the +mob was denser here, and blocking up the door, resolutely maintained +their position. + +Again and again the sheriff appealed to the good sense and justice of +the people. + +"The prisoner will have to stand a trial and the law will execute sure +vengeance." + +"No, it won't!" was sternly responded. + +"Who'll be judge in the case?" was asked. + +"Why, Judge Lyman!" was contemptuously answered. + +"A blackleg himself!" was shouted by two or three voices. + +"Blackleg judge, and blackleg lawyers! Oh, yes! The law will execute +sure vengeance! Who was in the room gambling with Green and Hammond?" + +"Judge Lyman!" "Judge Lyman!" was answered back. + +"It won't do, sheriff! There's no law in the country to reach the case +but Lynch law; and that the scoundrel must have. Give him to us!" + +"Never! On, men, with the prisoner!" cried the sheriff resolutely, and +the posse made a rush toward the door, bearing back the resisting and +now infuriated crowd. Shouts, cries, oaths, and savage imprecations +blended in wild discord; in the midst of which my blood was chilled by +the sharp crack of a pistol. Another and another shot followed; and +then, as a cry of pain thrilled the air, the fierce storm hushed its +fury in an instant. + +"Who's shot? Is he killed?" + +There was a breathless eagerness for the answer. + +"It's the gambler!" was replied. "Somebody has shot Green." + +A low muttered invective against the victim was heard here and there; +but the announcement was not received with a shout of exultation, +though there was scarcely a heart that did not feel pleasure at the +sacrifice of Harvey Green's life. + +It was true as had been declared. Whether the shot were aimed +deliberately, or guided by an unseen hand to the heart of the gambler, +was never known; nor did the most careful examination, instituted +afterward by the county, elicit any information that even directed +suspicion toward the individual who became the agent of his death. + +At the coroner's inquest, held over the dead body of Harvey Green, +Simon Slade was present. Where he had concealed himself while the mob +were in search of him, was not known. He looked haggard; and his eyes +were anxious and restless. Two murders in his house, occurring in a +single day, were quite enough to darken his spirits; and the more so, +as his relations with both the victims were not of a character to +awaken any thing but self-accusation. + +As for the mob, in the death of Green its eager thirst for vengeance +was satisfied. Nothing more was said against Slade, as a participator +in the ruin and death of young Hammond. The popular feeling was one of +pity rather than indignation toward the landlord; for it was seen that +he was deeply troubled. + +One thing I noticed, and it was that the drinking at the bar was not +suspended for a moment. A large proportion of those who made up the +crowd of Green's angry pursuers were excited by drink as well as +indignation, and I am very sure that, but for the maddening effects of +liquor, the fatal shot would never have been fired. After the fearful +catastrophe, and when every mind was sobered, or ought to have been +sobered, the crowd returned to the bar-room, where the drinking was +renewed. So rapid were the calls for liquor, that both Matthew and +Frank, the landlord's son, were kept busy mixing the various compounds +demanded by the thirsty customers. + +From the constant stream of human beings that flowed toward the "Sickle +and Sheaf," after the news of Green's discovery and death went forth, +it seemed as if every man and boy within a distance of two or three +miles had received intelligence of the event. Few, very, of those who +came, but went first into the bar-room; and nearly all who entered the +bar-room called for liquor. In an hour after the death of Green, the +fact that his dead body was laid out in the room immediately adjoining, +seemed utterly to pass from the consciousness of every one in the bar. +The calls for liquor were incessant; and, as the excitement of drink +increased, voices grew louder, and oaths more plentiful, while the +sounds of laughter ceased not for an instant. + +"They're giving him a regular Irish wake," I heard remarked, with a +brutal laugh. + +I turned to the speaker, and, to my great surprise, saw that it was +Judge Lyman, more under the influence of drink than I remembered to +have seen him. He was about the last man I expected to find here. If he +knew of the strong indignation expressed toward him a little while +before, by some of the very men now excited with liquor, his own free +drinking had extinguished fear. + +"Yes, curse him!" was the answer. "If they have a particularly hot +corner 'away down below,' I hope he's made its acquaintance before +this." + +"Most likely he's smelled brimstone," chuckled the judge. + +"Smelled it! If old Clubfoot hasn't treated him with a brimstone-bath +long before this, he hasn't done his duty. If I thought as much, I'd +vote for sending his majesty a remonstrance forthwith." + +"Ha! ha!" laughed the judge. "You're warm on the subject." + +"Ain't I? The blackleg scoundrel! Hell's too good for him." + +"H-u-s-h! Don't let your indignation run into profanity," said Judge +Lyman, trying to assume a serious air; but the muscles of his face but +feebly obeyed his will's feeble effort. + +"Profanity! Poh! I don't call that profanity. It's only speaking out in +meeting, as they say,--it's only calling black, black--and white, +white. You believe in a hell, don't you, judge?" + +"I suppose there is one; though I don't know very certain." + +"You'd better be certain!" said the other, meaningly. + +"Why so?" + +"Oh! because if there is one, and you don't cut your cards a little +differently, you'll be apt to find it at the end of your journey." + +"What do you mean by that?" asked the judge, retreating somewhat into +himself, and trying to look dignified. + +"Just what I say," was unhesitatingly answered. + +"Do you mean to insinuate any thing?" asked the judge, whose brows were +beginning to knit themselves. + +"Nobody thinks you a saint," replied the man, roughly. + +"I never professed to be." + +"And it is said"--the man fixed his gaze almost insultingly upon Judge +Lyman's face--"that you'll get about as hot a corner in the lower +regions as is to be found there, whenever you make the journey in that +direction." + +"You are insolent!" exclaimed the judge, his face becoming inflamed. + +"Take care what you say, sir!" The man spoke threateningly. + +"You'd better take care what YOU say." + +"So I will," replied the other. "But--" + +"What's to pay here?" inquired a third party, coming up at the moment, +and interrupting the speaker. + +"The devil will be to pay," said Judge Lyman, "if somebody don't look +out sharp." + +"Do you mean that for me, ha?" The man, between whom and himself this +slight contention had so quickly sprung up, began stripping back his +coat sleeves, like one about to commence boxing. + +"I mean it for anybody who presumes to offer me an insult." + +The raised voices of the two men now drew toward them the attention of +every one in the bar-room. + +"The devil! There's Judge Lyman!" I heard some one exclaim, in a tone +of surprise. + +"Wasn't he in the room with Green when Willy Hammond was murdered?" +asked another. + +"Yes, he was; and what's more, it is said he had been playing against +him all night, he and Green sharing the plunder." + +This last remark came distinctly to the ears of Lyman, who started to +his feet instantly, exclaiming fiercely: + +"Whoever says that is a cursed liar!" + +The words were scarcely out of his mouth, before a blow staggered him +against the wall, near which he was standing. Another blow felled him, +and then his assailant sprang over his prostrate body, kicking him, and +stamping upon his face and breast in the most brutal, shocking manner. + +"Kill him! He's worse than Green!" somebody cried out, in a voice so +full of cruelty and murder that it made my blood curdle. "Remember +Willy Hammond!" + +The terrible scene that followed, in which were heard a confused +mingling of blows, cries, yells, and horrible oaths, continued for +several minutes, and ceased only when the words--"Don't, don't strike +him any more! He's dead!" were repeated several times. Then the wild +strife subsided. As the crowd parted from around the body of Judge +Lyman, and gave way, I caught a single glance at his face. It was +covered with blood, and every feature seemed to have been literally +trampled down, until all was a level surface! Sickened at the sight, I +passed hastily from the room into the open air, and caught my breath +several times, before respiration again went on freely. As I stood in +front of the tavern, the body of Judge Lyman was borne out by three or +four men, and carried off in the direction of his dwelling. + +"Is he dead?" I inquired of those who had him in charge. + +"No," was the answer. "He's not dead, but terribly beaten," and they +passed on. + +Again the loud voices of men in angry strife arose in the bar-room. I +did not return there to learn the cause, or to witness the fiend-like +conduct of the men, all whose worst passions were stimulated by drink +into the wildest fervor. As I was entering my room, the thought flashed +through my mind that, as Green was found there, it needed only the bare +suggestion that I had aided in his concealment, to direct toward me the +insane fury of the drunken mob. + +"It is not safe to remain here." I said this to myself, with the +emphasis of a strong internal conviction. + +Against this, my mind opposed a few feeble arguments; but the more I +thought of the matter, the more clearly did I become satisfied, that to +attempt to pass the night in that room was to me a risk it was not +prudent to assume. + +So I went in search of Mrs. Slade, to ask her to have another room +prepared for me. But she was not in the house; and I learned, upon +inquiry, that since the murder of young Hammond, she had been suffering +from repeated hysterical and fainting fits, and was now, with her +daughter, at the house of a relative, whither she had been carried +early in the afternoon. + +It was on my lip to request the chambermaid to give me another room; +but this I felt to be scarcely prudent, for if the popular indignation +should happen to turn toward me, the servant would be the one +questioned, most likely, as to where I had removed my quarters. + +"It isn't safe to stay in the house," said I, speaking to myself. "Two, +perhaps three, murders have been committed already. The tiger's thirst +for blood has been stimulated, and who can tell how quickly he may +spring again, or in what direction?" + +Even while I said this, there came up from the bar-room louder and +madder shouts. Then blows were heard, mingled with cries and oaths. A +shuddering sense of danger oppressed me, and I went hastily +down-stairs, and out into the street. As I gained the passage, I looked +into the sitting-room, where the body of Green was laid out. Just then, +the bar-room door was burst open by a fighting party, who had been +thrown, in their fierce contention, against it. I paused only for a +moment or two; and even in that brief period of time, saw blows +exchanged over the dead body of the gambler! + +"This is no place for me," I said, almost aloud, and hurried from the +house, and took my way to the residence of a gentleman who had shown me +many kindnesses during my visits at Cedarville. There was needed +scarcely a word of representation on my part, to secure the cordial +tender of a bed. + +What a change! It seemed almost like a passage from Pandemonium to a +heavenly region, as I seated myself alone in the quiet chamber a +cheerful hospitality had assigned me, and mused on the exciting and +terrible incidents of the day. They that sow the wind shall reap the +whirlwind. How marked had been the realization of this prophecy, +couched in such strong but beautiful imagery! + +On the next day I was to leave Cedarville. Early in the morning I +repaired to the "Sickle and Sheaf." The storm was over, and all was +calm and silent as desolation. Hours before, the tempest had subsided; +but the evidences left behind of its ravaging fury were fearful to look +upon. Doors, chairs, windows, and table's were broken, and even the +strong brass rod that ornamented the bar had been partially wrenched +from its fastenings by strong hands, under an impulse of murder, that +only lacked a weapon to execute its fiendish purpose. Stains of blood, +in drops, marks, and even dried-up pools, were to be seen all over the +bar-room and passage floors, and in many places on the porch. + +In the sitting-room still lay the body of Green. Here, too, were many +signs to indicate a fierce struggle. The looking-glass was smashed to a +hundred pieces, and the shivered fragments lay yet untouched upon the +floor. A chair, which it was plain had been used as a weapon of +assault, had two of its legs broken short off, and was thrown into a +corner. And even the bearers on which the dead man lay were pushed from +their true position, showing that even in its mortal sleep, the body of +Green had felt the jarring strife of elements he had himself helped to +awaken into mad activity. From his face, the sheet had been drawn +aside; but no hand ventured to replace it; and there it lay, in its +ghastly paleness, exposed to the light, and covered with restless +flies, attracted by the first faint odors of putridity. With gaze +averted, I approached the body, and drew the covering decently over it. + +No person was in the bar. I went out into the stable-yard, where I met +the hostler with his head bound up. There was a dark blue circle around +one of his eyes, and an ugly-looking red scar on his cheek. + +"Where is Mr. Slade?" I inquired. + +"In bed, and likely to keep it for a week," was answered. + +"How comes that?" + +"Naturally enough. There was fighting all around last night, and he had +to come in for a share. The fool! If he'd just held his tongue, he +might have come out of it with a whole skin. But, when the rum is in, +the wit is out, with him. It's cost me a black eye and a broken head; +for how could I stand by and see him murdered outright?" + +"Is he very badly injured?" + +"I rather think he is. One eye is clean gone." + +"Oh, shocking!" + +"It's shocking enough, and no mistake." + +"Lost an eye?" + +"Too true, sir. The doctor saw him this morning, and says the eye was +fairly gouged out, and broken up. In fact, when we carried him upstairs +for dead, last night, his eye was lying upon his cheek. I pushed it +back with my own hand!" + +"Oh, horrible!" The relation made me sick. "Is he otherwise much +injured?" + +"The doctor thinks there are some bad hurts inside. Why, they kicked +and trampled upon him, as if he had been a wild beast! I never saw such +a pack of blood-thirsty devils in my life!" + +"So much for rum," said I. + +"Yes, sir; so much for rum," was the emphatic response. "It was the +rum, and nothing else. Why, some of the very men who acted the most +like tigers and devils, are as harmless persons as you will find in +Cedarville when sober. Yes, sir; it was the rum, and nothing else. Rum +gave me this broken head and black eye." + +"So you had been drinking also?" + +"Oh, yes. There's no use in denying that." + +"Liquor does you harm." + +"Nobody knows that better than I do." + +"Why do you drink, then?" + +"Oh, just because it comes in the way. Liquor is under my eyes and nose +all the time, and it's as natural as breathing to take a little now and +then. And when I don't think of it myself, somebody will think of it +for me, and say--'Come, Sam, let's take something.' So, you see, for a +body such as I am, there isn't much help for it." + +"But ain't you afraid to go on in this way? Don't you know where it +will all end?" + +"Just as well as anybody. It will make an end of me or--of all that is +good in me. Rum and ruin, you know, sir. They go together like twin +brothers." + +"Why don't you get out of the way of temptation?" said I. + +"It's easy enough to ask that question, sir; but how am I to get out of +the way of temptation? Where shall I go, and not find a bar in my road, +and somebody to say--'Come, Sam, let's take a drink'? It can't be done, +sir, nohow. I'm a hostler, and I don't know how to be anything else." + +"Can't you work on a farm?" + +"Yes; I can do something in that way. But, when there are taverns and +bar-rooms, as many as three or four in every mile all over the country, +how are you to keep clear of them? Figure me out that." + +"I think you'd better vote on the Maine Law side at next election," +said I. + +"Faith, and I did it last time!" replied the man, with a brightening +face--"and if I'm spared, I'll go the same ticket next year." + +"What do you think of the Law?" I asked. + +"Think of it! Bless your heart! if I was a praying man, which I'm sorry +to say I ain't--my mother was a pious woman, sir"--his voice fell and +slightly trembled--"if I was a praying man, sir, I'd pray, night and +morning, and twenty times every day of my life, for God to put it into +the hearts of the people to give us that Law. I'd have some hope then. +But I haven't much as it is. There's no use in trying to let liquor +alone." + +"Do many drinking men think as you do?" + +"I can count up a dozen or two myself. It isn't the drinking men who +are so much opposed to the Maine Law as your politicians. They throw +dust in the people's eyes about it, and make a great many, who know +nothing at all of the evils of drinking in themselves, believe some +bugbear story about trampling on the rights of I don't know who, nor +they either. As for rum-sellers' rights, I never could see any right +they had to get rich by ruining poor devils such as I am. I think, +though, that we have some right to be protected against them." + +The ringing of a bell here announced the arrival of some traveler, and +the hostler left me. + +I learned, during the morning, that Matthew, the bar-keeper, and also +the son of Mr. Slade, were both considerably hurt during the affrays in +the bar-room, and were confined, temporarily, to their beds. Mrs. Slade +still continued in a distressing and dangerous state. Judge Lyman, +though shockingly injured, was not thought to be in a critical +condition. + +A busy day the sheriff had of it, making arrests of various parties +engaged in the last night's affairs. Even Slade, unable as he was to +lift his head from his pillow, was required to give heavy bail for his +appearance at court. Happily, I escaped the inconvenience of being held +to appear as a witness, and early in the afternoon had the satisfaction +of finding myself rapidly borne away in the stage-coach. It was two +years before I entered the pleasant village of Cedarville again. + + + + +NIGHT THE EIGHTH. + +REAPING THE WHIRLWIND. + + +I was in Washington City during the succeeding month. It was the short, +or closing session, of a regular Congressional term. The implication of +Judge Lyman in the affair of Green and young Hammond had brought him +into such bad odor in Cedarville and the whole district from which he +had been chosen, that his party deemed it wise to set him aside, and +take up a candidate less likely to meet with so strong and, it might +be, successful an opposition. By so doing, they were able to secure the +election, once more, against the growing temperance party, which +succeeded, however, in getting a Maine Law man into the State +Legislature. It was, therefore, Judge Lyman's last winter at the +Federal Capital. + +While seated in the reading-room at Fuller's Hotel, about noon, on the +day after my arrival in Washington, I noticed an individual, whose face +looked familiar, come in and glance about, as if in search of some one. +While yet questioning my mind who he could be, I heard a man remark to +a person with whom he had been conversing: + +"There's that vagabond member away from his place in the House, again." + +"Who?" inquired the other. + +"Why. Judge Lyman," was answered. + +"Oh!" said the other, indifferently; "it isn't of much consequence. +Precious little wisdom does he add to that intelligent body." + +"His vote is worth something, at least, when important questions are at +stake." + +"What does he charge for it?" was coolly inquired. + +There was a shrug of the shoulders, and an arching of the eyebrows, but +no answer. + +"I'm in earnest, though, in the question," said the last speaker. + +"Not in saying that Lyman will sell his vote to the highest bidders?" + +"That will depend altogether upon whom the bidders may be. They must be +men who have something to lose as well as gain--men not at all likely +to bruit the matter, and in serving whose personal interests no +abandonment of party is required. Judge Lyman is always on good terms +with the lobby members, and may be found in company with some of them +daily. Doubtless, his absence from the House, now, is for the purpose +of a special meeting with gentlemen who are ready to pay well for votes +in favor of some bill making appropriations of public money for private +or corporate benefit." + +"You certainly can not mean all you say to be taken in its broadest +sense," was replied to this. + +"Yes; in its very broadest. Into just this deep of moral and political +degradation has this man fallen, disgracing his constituents, and +dishonoring his country." + +"His presence at Washington doesn't speak very highly in favor of the +community he represents." + +"No; still, as things are now, we cannot judge of the moral worth of a +community by the man sent from it to Congress. Representatives show +merely the strength of parties. The candidate chosen in party primary +meetings is not selected because he is the best man they have, and the +one fittest to legislate wisely in national affairs; but he who happens +to have the strongest personal friends among those who nominate, or who +is most likely to poll the highest vote. This is why we find,' in +Congress, such a large preponderance of tenth-rate men." + +"A man such as you represent Judge Lyman to be would sell his country, +like another Arnold." + +"Yes; if the bid were high enough." + +"Does he gamble?" + +"Gambling, I might say, is a part of his profession. Very few nights +pass, I am told, without finding him at the gaming-table." + +I heard no more. At all this, I was not in the least surprised; for my +knowledge of the man's antecedents had prepared me for allegations +quite as bad as these. + +During the week I spent at the Federal Capital, I had several +opportunities of seeing Judge Lyman, in the House and out of it,--in +the House only when the yeas and nays were called on some important +measure, or a vote taken on a bill granting special privileges. In the +latter case, his vote, as I noticed, was generally cast on the +affirmative side. Several times I saw him staggering on the Avenue, and +once brought into the House for the purpose of voting, in so drunken a +state, that he had to be supported to his seat. And even worse than +this--when his name was called, he was asleep, and had to be shaken +several times before he was sufficiently aroused to give his vote! + +Happily, for the good of his country, it was his last winter in +Washington. At the next session, a better man took his place. + +Two years from the period of my last visit to Cedarville, I found +myself approaching that quiet village again. As the church-spire came +in view, and house after house became visible, here and there, standing +out in pleasant relief against the green background of woods and +fields, all the exciting events which rendered my last visit so +memorable, came up fresh in my mind. I was yet thinking of Willy +Hammond's dreadful death, and of his broken-hearted mother, whose life +went out with his, when the stage rolled by their old homestead. Oh, +what a change was here! Neglect, decay, and dilapidation were visible, +let the eye fall where it would. The fences were down, here and there; +the hedges, once so green and nicely trimmed, had grown rankly in some +places, but were stunted and dying in others; all the beautiful walks +were weedy and grass-grown, and the box-borders dead; the garden, +rainbow-hued in its wealth of choice and beautiful flowers when I first +saw it, was lying waste,--a rooting-ground for hogs. A glance at the +house showed a broken chimney, the bricks unremoved from the spot where +they struck the ground; a moss grown roof, with a large limb from a +lightning-rent tree lying almost balanced over the eaves, and +threatening to fall at the touch of the first wind-storm that swept +over. Half of the vines that clambered about the portico were dead, and +the rest, untrained, twined themselves in wild disorder, or fell +groveling to the earth. One of the pillars of the portico was broken, +as were, also, two of the steps that went up to it. The windows of the +house were closed, but the door stood open, and, as the stage went +past, my eyes rested, for a moment, upon an old man seated in the hall. +He was not near enough to the door for me to get a view of his face; +but the white flowing hair left me in no doubt as to his identity. It +was Judge Hammond. + +The "Sickle and Sheaf" was yet the stage-house of Cedarville, and +there, a few minutes afterward, I found myself. The hand of change had +been here also. The first object that attracted my attention was the +sign-post, which at my earlier arrival, some eight or nine years +before, stood up in its new white garment of paint, as straight as a +plummet-line, bearing proudly aloft the golden sheaf and gleaming +sickle. Now, the post, dingy and shattered and worn from the frequent +contact of wheels, and gnawing of restless horses, leaned from its trim +perpendicular at an angle of many degrees, as if ashamed of the faded, +weather-worn, lying symbol it bore aloft in the sunshine. Around the +post was a filthy mud-pool, in which a hog lay grunting out its sense +of enjoyment. Two or three old empty whisky barrels lumbered up the +dirty porch, on which a coarse, bloated, vulgar-looking man sat leaning +against the wall--his chair tipped back on its hind legs--squinting at +me from one eye, as I left the stage and came forward toward the house. + +"Ah! is this you?" said he, as I came near to him, speaking thickly, +and getting up with a heavy motion. I now recognized the altered person +of Simon Slade. On looking at him closer, I saw that the eye which I +had thought only shut was in fact destroyed. How vividly, now, uprose +in imagination the scenes I had witnessed during my last night in his +bar-room; the night when a brutal mob, whom he had inebriated with +liquor, came near murdering him. + +"Glad to see you once more, my boy! Glad to see you! I--I--I'm not +just--you see. How are you? How are you?" + +And he shook my hand with a drunken show of cordiality. + +I felt shocked and disgusted. Wretched man! down the crumbling sides of +the pit he had digged for other feet, he was himself sliding, while not +enough strength remained even to struggle with his fate. + +I tried for a few minutes to talk with him; but his mind was altogether +beclouded, and his questions and answers incoherent; so I left him, and +entered the bar-room. + +"Can I get accommodations here for a couple of days?" I inquired of a +stupid, sleepy-looking man, who was sitting in a chair behind the bar. + +"I reckon so," he answered, but did not rise. + +I turned, and walked a few paces toward the door, and then walked back +again. + +"I'd like to get a room," said I. + +The man got up slowly, and going to a desk, fumbled about it for a +while. At length he brought out an old, dilapidated bank-book, and +throwing it open on the counter, asked me, with an indifferent manner, +to write down my name. + +"I'll take a pen, if you please." + +"Oh, yes!" And he hunted about again in the desk, from which, after a +while, he brought forth the blackened stump of a quill, and pushed it +toward me across the counter. + +"Ink," said I--fixing my eyes upon him with a look of displeasure. + +"I don't believe there is any," he muttered. "Frank," and he called the +landlord's son, going to the door behind the bar as he did so. + +"What d'ye want?" a rough, ill-natured voice answered. + +"Where's the ink?" + +"Don't know anything about it." + +"You had it last. What did you do with it?" + +"Nothing!" was growled back. + +"Well, I wish you'd find it." + +"Find it yourself, and--" I cannot repeat the profane language he used. + +"Never mind," said I. "A pencil will do just as well." And I drew one +from my pocket. The attempt to write with this, on the begrimed and +greasy page of the register, was only partially successful. It would +have puzzled almost any one to make out the name. From the date of the +last entry, it appeared that mine was the first arrival, for over a +week, of any person desiring a room. + +As I finished writing my name, Frank came stalking in, with a cigar in +his mouth, and a cloud of smoke around his head. He had grown into a +stout man--though his face presented little that was manly, in the true +sense of the word. He was disgustingly sensual. On seeing me, a slight +flush tinged his cheeks. + +"How do you do?" he said, offering me his hand. "Peter,"--he turned to +the lazy-looking bar-keeper--"tell Jane to have No. 11 put in order for +a gentleman immediately, and tell her to be sure and change the bed +linen." + +"Things look rather dull here," I remarked, as the bar-keeper went out +to do as he had been directed. + +"Rather; it's a dull place, anyhow." + +"How is your mother?" I inquired. + +A slight, troubled look came into his face, as he answered: + +"No better." + +"She's sick, then?" + +"Yes; she's been sick a good while; and I'm afraid will never be much +better." His manner was not altogether cold and indifferent, but there +was a want of feeling in his voice. + +"Is she at home?" + +"No, sir." + +As he showed no inclination to say more on the subject, I asked no +further questions, and he soon found occasion to leave me. + +The bar room had undergone no material change, so far as its furniture +and arrangements were concerned; but a very great change was apparent +in the condition of these. The brass rod around the bar, which, at my +last visit was brightly polished, was now a greenish-black, and there +came from it an unpleasant odor of verdigris. The walls were fairly +coated with dust, smoke, and fly-specks, and the windows let in the +light but feebly through the dirt-obscured glass. The floor was filthy. +Behind the bar, on the shelves designed for a display of liquors, was a +confused mingling of empty or half-filled decanters, cigar-boxes, +lemons and lemon-peel, old newspapers, glasses, a broken pitcher, a +hat, a soiled vest, and a pair of blacking brushes, with other +incongruous things, not now remembered. The air of the room was loaded +with offensive vapors. + +Disgusted with every thing about the bar, I went into the sitting-room. +Here, there was some order in the arrangement of the dingy furniture; +but you might have written your name in dust on the looking-glass and +table. The smell of the torpid atmosphere was even worse than that of +the bar-room. So I did not linger here, but passed through the hall, +and out upon the porch, to get a draught of pure air. + +Slade still sat leaning against the wall. + +"Fine day this," said he, speaking in a mumbling kind of voice. + +"Very fine," I answered. + +"Yes, very fine." + +"Not doing so well as you were a few years ago," said I. + +"No--you see--these--these 'ere blamed temperance people are ruining +everything." + +"Ah! Is that so?" + +"Yes. Cedarville isn't what it was when you first came to the 'Sickle +and Sheaf.' I--I--you see. Curse the temperance people! They've ruined +every thing, you see. Every thing! Ruined--" + +And he muttered and mouthed his words in such a way, that I could +understand but little he said; and, in that little, there was scarcely +any coherency. So I left him, with a feeling of pity in my heart for +the wreck he had become, and went into the town to call upon one or two +gentlemen with whom I had business. + +In the course of the afternoon, I learned that Mrs. Slade was in an +insane asylum, about five miles from Cedarville. The terrible events of +the day on which young Hammond was murdered completed the work of +mental ruin, begun at the time her husband abandoned the quiet, +honorable calling of a miller, and became a tavern-keeper. Reason could +hold its position no longer. When word came to her that Willy and his +mother were both dead, she uttered a wild shriek, and fell down in a +fainting fit. From that period the balance of her mind was destroyed. +Long before this, her friends saw that reason wavered. Frank had been +her idol. A pure, bright, affectionate boy he was, when she removed +with him from their pleasant cottage-home, where all the surrounding +influences were good, into a tavern, where an angel could scarcely +remain without corruption. From the moment this change was decided on +by her husband, a shadow fell upon her heart. She saw, before her +husband, her children, and herself, a yawning pit, and felt that, in a +very few years, all of them must plunge down into its fearful darkness. + +Alas! how quickly began the realization of her worst fears in the +corruption of her worshipped boy! And how vain proved all effort and +remonstrance, looking to his safety, whether made with himself or his +father! From the day the tavern was opened, and Frank drew into his +lungs full draughts of the changed atmosphere by which he was now +surrounded, the work of moral deterioration commenced. The very smell +of the liquor exhilarated him unnaturally; while the subjects of +conversation, so new to him, that found discussion in the bar-room, +soon came to occupy a prominent place in his imagination, to the +exclusion of those humane, child-like, tender, and heavenly thoughts +and impressions it had been the mother's care to impart and awaken. Ah! +with what an eager zest does the heart drink in of evil. And how almost +hopeless is the case of a boy, surrounded, as Frank was, by the +corrupting, debasing associations of a bar-room! Had his father +meditated his ruin, he could not have more surely laid his plans for +the fearful consummation; and he reaped as he had sown. With a selfish +desire to get gain, he embarked in the trade of corruption, ruin, and +death, weakly believing that he and his could pass through the fire +harmless. How sadly a few years demonstrated his error, we have seen. + +Flora, I learned, was with her mother, devoting her life to her. The +dreadful death of Willy Hammond, for whom she had conceived a strong +attachment, came near depriving her of reason also. Since the day on +which that awful tragedy occurred, she had never even looked upon her +old home. She went away with her unconscious mother, and ever since had +remained with her--devoting her life to her comfort. Long before this, +all her own and mother's influence over her brother had come to an end. +It mattered not how she sought to stay his feet, so swiftly moving +along the downward way, whether by gentle entreaty, earnest +remonstrance, or tears; in either case, wounds for her own heart were +the sure consequences, while his steps never lingered a moment. A swift +destiny seemed hurrying him on to ruin. The change in her father--once +so tender, so cheerful in his tone, so proud of and loving toward his +daughter--was another source of deep grief to her pure young spirit. +Over him, as well as over her brother, all her power was lost; and he +even avoided her, as though her presence were an offense to him. And +so, when she went out from her unhappy home, she took with her no +desire to return. Even when imagination bore her back to the "Sickle +and Sheaf," she felt an intense, heart-sickening repulsion toward the +place where she had first felt the poisoned arrows of life; and in the +depths of her spirit she prayed that her eyes might never look upon it +again. In her almost cloister-like seclusion, she sought to gather the +mantle of oblivion about her heart. + +Had not her mother's condition made Flora's duty a plain one, the true, +unselfish instincts of her heart would have doubtless led her back to +the polluted home she had left, there, in a kind of living death, to +minister as best she could to the comfort of a debased father and +brother. But she was spared that trial--that fruitless sacrifice. + +Evening found me once more in the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf." +The sleepy, indifferent bar-keeper, was now more in his element--looked +brighter, and had quicker motions. Slade, who had partially recovered +from the stupefying effects of the heavy draughts of ale with which he +washed down his dinner, was also in a better condition, though not +inclined to talk. He was sitting at a table, alone, with his eyes +wandering about the room. Whether his thoughts were agreeable or +disagreeable, it was not easy to determine. Frank was there, the centre +of a noisy group of coarse fellows, whose vulgar sayings and profane +expletives continually rung through the room. The noisiest, coarsest, +and most profane was Frank Slade; yet did not the incessant volume of +bad language that flowed from his tongue appear in the least to disturb +his father. + +Outraged, at length, by this disgusting exhibition, that had not even +the excuse of an exciting cause, I was leaving the bar-room, when I +heard some one remark to a young man who had just come in: "What! you +here again, Ned? Ain't you afraid your old man will be after you, as +usual?" + +"No," answered the person addressed, chuckling inwardly, "he's gone to +a prayer-meeting." + +"You'll at least have the benefit of his prayers," was lightly remarked. + +I turned to observe the young man more closely. His face I remembered, +though I could not identify him at first. But, when I heard him +addressed soon after as Ned Hargrove, I had a vivid recollection of a +little incident that occurred some years before, and which then made a +strong impression. The reader has hardly forgotten the visit of Mr. +Hargrove to the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf," and the +conversation among some of its inmates, which his withdrawal, in +company with his son, then occasioned. The father's watchfulness over +his boy, and his efforts to save him from the allurements and +temptations of a bar-room, had proved, as now appeared, unavailing. The +son was several years older; but it was sadly evident, from the +expression of his face, that he had been growing older in evil faster +than in years. + +The few words that I have mentioned as passing between this young man +and another inmate of the bar-room, caused me to turn back from the +door, through which I was about passing, and take a chair near to where +Hargrove had seated himself. As I did so, the eyes of Simon Slade +rested on the last-named individual. + +"Ned Hargrove!" he said, speaking roughly--"if you want a drink, you'd +better get it, and make yourself scarce." + +"Don't trouble yourself," retorted the young man, "you'll get your +money for the drink in good time." + +This irritated the landlord, who swore at Hargrove violently, and said +something about not wanting boys about his place who couldn't stir from +home without having "daddy or mammy running after them." + +"Never fear!" cried out the person who had first addressed +Hargrove--"his old man's gone to a prayer-meeting. We shan't have the +light of his pious countenance here to-night." + +I fixed my eyes upon the young man to see what effect this coarse and +irreverent allusion to his father would have. A slight tinge of shame +was in his face; but I saw that he had not sufficient moral courage to +resent the shameful desecration of a parent's name. How should he, when +he was himself the first to desecrate that name? + +"If he were forty fathoms deep in the infernal regions," answered +Slade, "he'd find out that Ned was here, and get half an hour's leave +of absence to come after him. The fact is, I'm tired of seeing his +solemn, sanctimonious face here every night. If the boy hasn't spirit +enough to tell him to mind his own business, as I have done more than +fifty times, why, let the boy stay away himself." + +"Why don't you send him off with a flea in his ear, Ned?" said one of +the company, a young man scarcely his own age. "My old man tried that +game with me, but he soon found that I could hold the winning cards." + +"Just what I'm going to do the very next time he comes after me." + +"Oh, yes! So you've said twenty times," remarked Frank Slade, in a +sneering, insolent manner. + +Edward Hargrove had not the spirit to resent this; he only answered: + +"Just let him show himself here to-night, and you will see." + +"No, we won't see," sneered Frank. + +"Wouldn't it be fun!" was exclaimed. "I hope to be on hand, should it +ever come off." + +"He's as 'fraid as death of the old chap," laughed a sottish-looking +man, whose age ought to have inspired him with some respect for the +relation between father and son, and doubtless would, had not a long +course of drinking and familiarity with debasing associates blunted his +moral sense. + +"Now for it!" I heard uttered, in a quick, delighted voice. "Now for +fun! Spunk up to him, Ned! Never say die!" + +I turned toward the door, and there stood the father of Edward +Hargrove. How well I remembered the broad, fine forehead, the steady, +yet mild eyes, the firm lips, the elevated, superior bearing of the man +I had once before seen in that place, and on a like errand. His form +was slightly bent now; his hair was whiter; his eyes farther back in +his head; his face thinner and marked with deeper lines; and there was +in the whole expression of his face a touching sadness. Yet, superior +to the marks of time and suffering, an unflinching resolution was +visible in his countenance, that gave to it a dignity, and extorted +involuntary respect. He stood still, after advancing a few paces, and +then, his searching eyes having discovered his son, he said mildly, yet +firmly, and with such a strength of parental love in his voice that +resistance was scarcely possible: + +"Edward! Edward! Come, my son." + +"Don't go." The words were spoken in an undertone, and he who uttered +them turned his face away from Mr. Hargrove, so that the old man could +not see the motion of his lips. A little while before, he had spoken +bravely against the father of Edward; now, he could not stand up in his +presence. + +I looked at Edward. He did not move from where he was sitting, and yet +I saw that to resist his father cost him no light struggle. + +"Edward." There was nothing imperative--nothing stern--nothing +commanding in the father's voice; but its great, its almost +irresistible power, lay in its expression of the father's belief that +his son would instantly leave the place. And it was this power that +prevailed. Edward arose, and, with eyes cast upon the floor, was moving +away from his companions, when Frank Slade exclaimed: + +"Poor, weak fool!" + +It was a lightning flash of indignation, rather than a mere glance from +the human eye, that Mr. Hargrove threw instantly upon Frank; while his +fine form sprung up erect. He did not speak, but merely transfixed him +with a look. Frank curled his lip impotently, as he tried to return the +old man's withering glances. + +"Now look here!" said Simon Slade, in some wrath, "there's been just +about enough of this. I'm getting tired of it. Why don't you keep Ned +at home? Nobody wants him here." + +"Refuse to sell him liquor," returned Mr. Hargrove. + +"It's my trade to sell liquor," answered Slade, boldly. + +"I wish you had a more honorable calling," said Hargrove, almost +mournfully. + +"If you insult my father, I'll strike you down!" exclaimed Frank Slade, +starting up and assuming a threatening aspect. + +"I respect filial devotion, meet it where I will," calmly replied Mr. +Hargrove,--"I only wish it had a better foundation in this case. I only +wish the father had merited----" + +I will not stain my page with the fearful oath that Frank Slade yelled, +rather than uttered, as, with clenched fist, he sprung toward Mr. +Hargrove. But ere he had reached the unruffled old man--who stood +looking at him as one would look into the eyes of a wild beast, +confident that he could not stand the gaze--a firm hand grasped his +arm, and a rough voice said: + +"Avast, there, young man! Touch a hair of that white head, and I'll +wring your neck off." + +"Lyon!" As Frank uttered the man's name, he raised his fist to strike +him. A moment the clenched hand remained poised in the air; then it +fell slowly to his side, and he contented himself with an oath and a +vile epithet. + +"You can swear to your heart's content. It will do nobody any harm but +yourself," coolly replied Mr. Lyon, whom I now recognized as the person +with whom I had held several conversations during previous visits. + +"Thank you, Mr. Lyon," said Mr. Hargrove, "for this manly interference. +It is no more than I should have expected from you." + +"I never suffer a young man to strike an old man," said Lyon firmly. +"Apart from that, Mr. Hargrove, there are other reasons why your person +must be free from violence where I am." + +"This is a bad place for you, Lyon," said Mr. Hargrove; "and I've said +so to you a good many times." He spoke in rattier an undertone. "Why +WILL you come here?" + +"It's a bad place, I know," replied Lyon, speaking out boldly, "and we +all know it. But habit, Mr. Hargrove--habit. That's the cursed thing! +If the bar-rooms were all shut up, there would be another story to +tell. Get us the Maine law, and there will be some chance for us." + +"Why don't you vote the temperance ticket?" asked Mr. Hargrove. + +"Why did I? you'd better ask," said Lyon. + +"I thought you voted against us." + +"Not I. Ain't quite so blind to my own interest as that. And, if the +truth were known, I should not at all wonder if every man in this room, +except Slade and his son, voted on your side of the house." + +"It's a little strange, then," said Mr. Hargrove, "that with the +drinking men on our side, we failed to secure the election." + +"You must blame that on your moderate men, who see no danger and go +blind with their party," answered Lyon. "We have looked the evil in the +face, and know its direful quality." + +"Come! I would like to talk with you, Mr. Lyon." + +Mr. Hargrove, his son, and Mr. Lyon went out together. As they left the +room, Frank Slade said: + +"What a cursed liar and hypocrite he is!" + +"Who?" was asked. + +"Why, Lyon," answered Frank, boldly. + +"You'd better say that to his face." + +"It wouldn't be good for him," remarked one of the company. + +At this Frank started to his feet, stalked about the room, and put on +all the disgusting airs of a drunken braggart. Even his father saw the +ridiculous figure he cut, and growled out: + +"There, Frank, that'll do. Don't make a miserable fool of yourself!" + +At which Frank retorted, with so much of insolence that his father flew +into a towering passion, and ordered him to leave the bar-room. + +"You can go out yourself if you don't like the company. I'm very well +satisfied," answered Frank. + +"Leave this room, you impudent young scoundrel!" + +"Can't go, my amiable friend," said Frank, with a cool self-possession +that maddened his father, who got up hastily, and moved across the +bar-room to the place where he was standing. + +"Go out, I tell you!" Slade spoke resolutely. + +"Would be happy to oblige you," Frank said, in a taunting voice; "but, +'pon my word, it isn't at all convenient." + +Half intoxicated as he was, and already nearly blind with passion, +Slade lifted his hand to strike his son. And the blow would have fallen +had not some one caught his arm, and held him back from the meditated +violence. Even the debased visitors of this bar-room could not stand by +and see nature outraged in a bloody strife between father and son; for +it was plain from the face and quickly assumed attitude of Frank, that +if his father had laid his hand upon him, he would have struck him in +return. + +I could not remain to hear the awful imprecations that father and son, +in their impotent rage, called down from heaven upon each other's +heads. It was the most shocking exhibition of depraved human nature +that I had ever seen. And so I left the bar-room, glad to escape from +its stifling atmosphere and revolting scenes. + + + + +NIGHT THE NINTH. + +A FEARFUL CONSUMMATION. + + +Neither Slade nor his son was present at the breakfast-table on the +next morning. As for myself, I did not eat with much appetite. Whether +this defect arose from the state of my mind, or the state of the food +set before me, I did not stop to inquire; but left the stifling, +offensive atmosphere of the dining-room in a very few moments after +entering that usually attractive place for a hungry man. + +A few early drinkers were already in the bar-room--men with shattered +nerves and cadaverous faces, who could not begin the day's work without +the stimulus of brandy or whisky. They came in, with gliding footsteps, +asked for what they wanted in low voices, drank in silence, and +departed. It was a melancholy sight to look upon. + +About nine o'clock the landlord made his appearance. He, too, came +gliding into the bar-room, and his first act was to seize upon a brandy +decanter, pour out nearly half a pint of the fiery liquid, and drink it +off. How badly his hand shook--so badly that he spilled the brandy both +in pouring it out and in lifting the glass to his lips! What a +shattered wreck he was! He looked really worse now than he did on the +day before, when drink gave an artificial vitality to his system, a +tension to his muscles, and light to his countenance. The miller of ten +years ago, and the tavern-keeper of today! Who could have identified +them as one? + +Slade was turning from the bar, when a man? came in. I noticed an +instant change in the landlord's countenance. He looked startled; +almost frightened. The man drew a small package from his pocket, and +after selecting a paper therefrom, presented it to Slade, who received +it with a nervous reluctance, opened, and let his eye fall upon the +writing within. I was observing him closely at the time, and saw his +countenance flush deeply. In a moment or two it became pale +again--paler even than before. + +"Very well--all right. I'll attend to it," said the landlord, trying to +recover himself, yet swallowing with every sentence. + +The man who was no other than a sheriff's deputy, and who gave him a +sober, professional look, then went out with a firm step, and an air of +importance. As he passed through the outer door, Slade retired from the +bar-room. + +"Trouble coming," I heard the bar-keeper remark, speaking partly to +himself and partly with the view, as was evident from his manner, of +leading me to question him. But this I did not feel that it was right +to do. + +"Got the sheriff on him at last," added the bar-keeper. + +"What's the matter, Bill?" inquired a man who now came in with a +bustling, important air, and leaned familiarly over the bar. "Who was +Jenkins after?" + +"The old man," replied the bar-keeper, in a voice that showed pleasure +rather than regret. + +"No!" + +"It's a fact." Bill, the bar-keeper, actually smiled. + +"What's to pay?" said the man. + +"Don't know, and don't care much." "Did he serve a summons or an +execution?" + +"Can't tell." + +"Judge Lyman's suit went against him." + +"Did it?" + +"Yes; and I heard Judge Lyman swear, that if he got him on the hip, +he'd sell him out, bag and basket. And he's the man to keep his word." + +"I never could just make out," said the bar-keeper, "how he ever came +to owe Judge Lyman so much. I've never known of any business +transactions between them." + +"It's been dog eat dog, I rather guess," said the man. + +"What do you mean by that?" inquired the bar-keeper. + +"You've heard of dogs hunting in pairs?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"Well, since Harvey Green got his deserts, the business of fleecing our +silly young fellows, who happened to have more money than wit or +discretion, has been in the hands of Judge Lyman and Slade. They hunted +together, Slade holding the game, while the judge acted as +blood-sucker. But that business was interrupted about a year ago; and +game got so scarce that, as I suggested, dog began to eat dog. And here +comes the end of the matter, if I'm not mistaken. So mix us a stiff +toddy. I want one more good drink at the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' before the +colors are struck." + +And the man chuckled at his witty effort. + +During the day, I learned that affairs stood pretty much as this man +had conjectured. Lyman's suits had been on sundry notes payable on +demand; but nobody knew of any property transactions between him and +Slade. On the part of Slade, no defense had been made--the suit going +by default. The visit of the sheriff's officer was for the purpose of +serving an execution. + +As I walked through Cedarville on that day, the whole aspect of the +place seemed changed. I questioned with myself, often, whether this +were really so, or only the effect of imagination. The change was from +cheerfulness and thrift, to gloom and neglect. There was, to me, a +brooding silence in the air; a pause in the life-movement; a folding of +the hands, so to speak, because hope had failed from the heart. The +residence of Mr. Harrison, who, some two years before, had suddenly +awakened to a lively sense of the evil of rum-selling, because his own +sons were discovered to be in danger, had been one of the most tasteful +in Cedarville. I had often stopped to admire the beautiful shrubbery +and flowers with which it was surrounded; the walks so clear--the +borders so fresh and even--the arbors so cool and inviting. There was +not a spot upon which the eye could rest, that did not show the hand of +taste. When I now came opposite to this house, I was not longer in +doubt as to the actuality of a change. There were no marked evidences +of neglect; but the high cultivation and nice regard for the small +details were lacking. The walks were cleanly swept; but the box-borders +were not so carefully trimmed. The vines and bushes that in former +times were cut and tied so evenly, could hardly have felt the keen +touch of the pruning-knife for months. + +As I paused to note the change, a lady, somewhat beyond the middle age, +came from the house. I was struck by the deep gloom that overshadowed +her countenance. Ah! said I to myself, as I passed on, how many dear +hopes, that once lived in that heart, must have been scattered to the +winds. As I conjectured, this was Mrs. Harrison, and I was not +unprepared to hear, as I did a few hours afterward, that her two sons +had fallen into drinking habits; and, not only this, had been enticed +to the gaming-table. Unhappy mother! What a life-time of wretchedness +was compressed for thee into a few short years! + +I walked on, noting, here and there, changes even more marked than +appeared about the residence of Mr. Harrison. Judge Lyman's beautiful +place showed utter neglect; and so did one or two others that, on my +first visit to Cedarville, charmed me with their order, neatness, and +cultivation. In every instance, I learned, on inquiring, that the +owners of these, or some members of their families, were, or had been, +visitors at the "Sickle and Sheaf"; and that the ruin, in progress or +completed, began after the establishment of that point of attraction in +the village. + +Something of a morbid curiosity, excited by what I saw, led me on to +take a closer view of the residence of Judge Hammond than I had +obtained on the day before. The first thing that I noticed, on +approaching the old, decaying mansion, were handbills, posted on the +gate, the front-door, and on one of the windows. A nearer inspection +revealed their import. The property had been seized, and was now +offered at sheriff's sale! + +Ten years before, Judge Hammond was known as the richest man in +Cedarville; and now, the homestead which he had once so loved to +beautify--where all that was dearest to him in life once +gathered--worn, disfigured, and in ruins, was about to be wrested from +him. I paused at the gate, and leaning over it, looked in with saddened +feelings upon the dreary waste within. No sign of life was visible. The +door was shut--the windows closed--not the faintest wreath of smoke was +seen above the blackened chimney-tops. How vividly did imagination +restore the life, and beauty, and happiness, that made their home there +only a few years before,--the mother and her noble boy, one looking +with trembling hope, the other with joyous confidence, into the +future,--the father, proud of his household treasures, but not their +wise and jealous guardian. + +Ah! that his hands should have unbarred the door, and thrown it wide, +for the wolf to enter that precious fold! I saw them all in their sunny +life before me; yet, even as I looked upon them, their sky began to +darken. I heard the distant mutterings of the storm, and soon the +desolating tempest swept down fearfully upon them. I shuddered as it +passed away, to look upon the wrecks left scattered around. What a +change! + +"And all this," said I, "that one man, tired of being useful, and eager +to get gain, might gather in accursed gold!" + +Pushing open the gate, I entered the yard, and walked around the +dwelling, my footsteps echoing in the hushed solitude of the deserted +place. Hark! was that a human voice? + +I paused to listen. + +The sound came, once more, distinctly to my ears, I looked around, +above, everywhere, but perceived no living sign. For nearly a minute I +stood still, listening. Yes; there it was again--a low, moaning voice, +as of one in pain or grief. I stepped onward a few paces; and now saw +one of the doors standing ajar. As I pushed this door wide open, the +moan was repeated. Following the direction from which the sound came, I +entered one of the large drawing-rooms. The atmosphere was stifling, +and all as dark as if it were midnight. Groping my way to a window, I +drew back the bolt and threw open the shutter. Broadly the light fell +across the dusty, uncarpeted floor, and on the dingy furniture of the +room. As it did so, the moaning voice which had drawn me thither +swelled on the air again; and now I saw, lying upon an old sofa, the +form of a man. It needed no second glance to tell me that this was +Judge Hammond. I put my hand upon him, and uttered his name; but he +answered not. I spoke more firmly, and slightly shook him; but only a +piteous moan was returned. + +"Judge Hammond!" I now called aloud, and somewhat imperatively. + +But it availed nothing. The poor old man aroused not from the stupor in +which mind and body were enshrouded. + +"He is dying!" thought I; and instantly left the house in search of +some friends to take charge of him in his last, sad extremity. The +first person to whom I made known the fact shrugged his shoulders, and +said it was no affair of his, and that I must find somebody whose +business it was to attend to him. My next application was met in the +same spirit; and no better success attended my reference of the matter +to a third party. No one to whom I spoke seemed to have any sympathy +for the broken-down old man. Shocked by this indifference, I went to +one of the county officers, who, on learning the condition of Judge +Hammond, took immediate steps to have him removed to the Alms-house, +some miles distant. + +"But why to the Alms-house?" I inquired, on learning his purpose. "He +has property." + +"Everything has been seized for debt," was the reply. + +"Will there be nothing left after his creditors are satisfied?" + +"Very few, if any, will be satisfied," he answered. "There will not be +enough to pay half the judgments against him." + +"And is there no friend to take him in,--no one, of all who moved by +his side in the days of prosperity, to give a few hours' shelter, and +soothe the last moments of his unhappy life?" + +"Why did you make application here?" was the officer's significant +question. + +I was silent. + +"Your earnest appeals for the poor old man met with no words of +sympathy?" + +"None." + +"He has, indeed, fallen low. In the days of his prosperity, he had many +friends, so called. Adversity has shaken them all like dead leaves from +sapless branches." + +"But why? This is not always so." + +"Judge Hammond was a selfish, worldly man. People never liked him much. +His favoring, so strongly, the tavern of Slade, and his distillery +operations, turned from him some of his best friends. The corruption +and terrible fate of his son--and the insanity and death of his +wife--all were charged upon him in people's minds, and every one seemed +to turn from him instinctively after the fearful tragedy was completed. +He never held tip his head afterward. Neighbors shunned him as they +would a criminal. And here has come the end at last. He will be taken +to the poorhouse, to die there--a pauper!" + +"And all," said I, partly speaking to myself, "because a man, too lazy +to work at an honest calling, must needs go to rum-selling." + +"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," remarked the +officer with emphasis, as he turned from me to see that his directions +touching the removal of Mr. Hammond to the poor-house were promptly +executed. + +In my wanderings about Cedarville during that day, I noticed a small +but very neat cottage, a little way from the centre of the village. +There was not around it a great profusion of flowers and shrubbery; but +the few vines, flowers, and bushes that grew green and flourishing +about the door, and along the clean walks, added to the air of taste +and comfort that so peculiarly marked the dwelling. + +"Who lives in that pleasant little spot?" I asked of a man whom I had +frequently seen in Blade's bar-room. He happened to be passing the +house at the same time that I was. + +"Joe Morgan," was answered. + +"Indeed!" I spoke in some surprise. "And what of Morgan? How is he +doing?" + +"Very well." + +"Doesn't he drink?" + +"No. Since the death of his child, he has never taken a drop. That +event sobered him, and he has remained sober ever since." + +"What is he doing?" + +"Working at his old trade." + +"That of a miller?" + +"Yes. After Judge Hammond broke down, the distillery apparatus and +cotton spinning machinery were all sold and removed from Cedarville. +The purchaser of what remained, having something of the fear of God, as +well as regard for man, in his heart, set himself to the restoration of +the old order of things, and in due time the revolving mill-wheel was +at its old and better work of grinding corn and wheat for bread. The +only two men in Cedarville competent to take charge of the mill were +Simon Slade and Joe Morgan. The first could not be had, and the second +came in as a matter of course." + +"And he remains sober and industrious?" + +"As any man in the village," was the answer. + +I saw but little of Slade or his son during the day. But both were in +the bar-room at night, and both in a condition sorrowful to look upon. +Their presence, together, in the bar-room, half intoxicated as they +were, seemed to revive the unhappy temper of the previous evening, as +freshly as if the sun had not risen and set upon their anger. + +During the early part of the evening, considerable company was present, +though not of a very select class. A large proportion were young men. +To most of them the fact that Slade had fallen into the sheriff's hands +was known; and I gathered from some aside conversation which reached my +ears, that Frank's idle, spendthrift habits had hastened the present +crisis in his father's affairs. He, too, was in debt to Judge Lyman--on +what account, it was not hard to infer. + +It was after nine o'clock, and there were not half a dozen persons in +the room, when I noticed Frank Slade go behind the bar for the third or +fourth time. He was just lifting a decanter of brandy, when his father, +who was considerably under the influence of drink, started forward, and +laid his hand upon that of his son. Instantly a fierce light gleamed +from the eyes of the young man. + +"Let go of my hand!" he exclaimed. + +"No, I won't. Put up that brandy bottle--you're drunk now." + +"Don't meddle with me, old man!" angrily retorted Frank. "I'm not in +the mood to bear anything more from YOU." + +"You're drunk as a fool now," returned Slade, who had seized the +decanter. "Let go the bottle." + +For only an instant did the young man hesitate. Then he drove his +half-clenched hand against the breast of his father, who went +staggering several paces from the counter. Recovering himself, and now +almost furious, the landlord rushed forward upon his son, his hand +raised to strike him. + +"Keep off!" cried Frank. "Keep off! If you touch me, I'll strike you +down!" At the same time raising the half-filled bottle threateningly. + +But his father was in too maddened a state to fear any consequences, +and so pressed forward upon his son, striking him in the face the +moment he came near enough to do so. + +Instantly, the young man, infuriated by drink and evil passions, threw +the bottle at his father's head. The dangerous missile fell, crashing +upon one of his temples, shivering it into a hundred pieces. A heavy, +jarring fall too surely marked the fearful consequences of the blow. +When we gathered around the fallen man, and made an effort to lift him +from the floor, a thrill of horror went through every heart. A mortal +paleness was already on his marred face, and the death-gurgle in his +throat! In three minutes from the time the blow was struck, his spirit +had gone upward to give an account of the deeds done in the body. + +"Frank Slade! you have murdered your father!" + +Sternly were these terrible words uttered. It was some time before the +young man seemed to comprehend their meaning. But the moment he +realized the awful truth, he uttered an exclamation of horror. Almost +at the same instant, a pistol-shot came sharply on the ear. But the +meditated self-destruction was not accomplished. The aim was not surely +taken; and the ball struck harmlessly against the ceiling. + +Half an hour afterward, and Frank Slade was a lonely prisoner in the +county jail! + +Does the reader need a word of comment on this fearful consummation? +No; and we will offer none. + + + + +NIGHT THE TENTH. + +THE CLOSING SCENE AT THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." + + +On the day that succeeded the evening of this fearful tragedy, placards +were to be seen all over the village, announcing a mass meeting at the +"Sickle and Sheaf" that night. + +By early twilight, the people commenced assembling. The bar, which had +been closed all day, was now thrown open, and lighted; and in this +room, where so much of evil had been originated, encouraged and +consummated, a crowd of earnest-looking men were soon gathered. Among +them I saw the fine person of Mr. Hargrove. Joe Morgan--or rather, Mr. +Morgan--was also one of the number. The latter I would scarcely have +recognized, had not some one near me called him by name. He was well +dressed, stood erect, and though there were many deep lines on his +thoughtful countenance, all traces of his former habits were gone. +While I was observing him, he arose, and addressing a few words to the +assemblage, nominated Mr. Hargrove as chairman of the meeting. To this +a unanimous assent was given. + +On taking the chair, Mr. Hargrove made a brief address, something to +this effect. + +"Ten years ago," said he, his voice evincing a slight unsteadiness as +he began, but growing firmer as he proceeded, "there was not a happier +spot in Bolton county than Cedarville. Now, the marks of ruin are +everywhere. Ten years ago, there was a kind-hearted, industrious miller +in Cedarville, liked by every one, and as harmless as a little child. +Now, his bloated, disfigured body lies in that room. His death was +violent, and by the hand of his own son!" + +Mr. Hargrove's words fell slowly, distinctly, and marked by the most +forcible emphasis. There was scarcely one present who did not feel a +low shudder run along his nerves, as the last words were spoken in a +husky whisper. + +"Ten years ago," he proceeded, "the miller had a happy wife, and two +innocent, glad-hearted children. Now, his wife, bereft of reason, is in +a mad-house, and his son the occupant of a felon's cell, charged with +the awful crime of parricide!" + +Briefly he paused, while his audience stood gazing upon him with +half-suspended respiration. + +"Ten years ago," he went on, "Judge Hammond was accounted the richest +man in Cedarville. Yesterday he was carried, a friendless pauper, to +the Alms-house; and to-day he is the unmourned occupant of a pauper's +grave! Ten years ago, his wife was the proud, hopeful, loving mother of +a most promising son. I need not describe what Willy Hammond was. All +here knew him well. Ah! what shattered the fine intellect of that +noble-minded woman? Why did her heart break? Where is she? Where is +Willy Hammond?" + +A low, half-repressed groan answered the speaker. + +"Ten years ago, you, sir," pointing to a sad-looking old man, and +calling him by name, "had two sons--generous, promising, manly-hearted +boys. What are they now? You need not answer the question. Too well is +their history and your sorrow known. Ten years ago, I had a +son,--amiable, kind, loving, but weak. Heaven knows how I sought to +guard and protect him! But he fell also. The arrows of destruction +darkened the very air of our once secure and happy village. And who is +safe? Not mine, nor yours! + +"Shall I go on? Shall I call up and pass in review before you, one +after another, all the wretched victims who have fallen in Cedarville +during the last ten years? Time does not permit. It would take hours +for the enumeration! No; I will not throw additional darkness into the +picture. Heaven knows it is black enough already! But what is the root +of this great evil? Where lies the fearful secret? Who understands the +disease? A direful pestilence is in the air--it walketh in darkness, +and wasteth at noonday. It is slaying the first-born in our houses, and +the cry of anguish is swelling on every gale. Is there no remedy?" + +"Yes! yes! There is a remedy!" was the spontaneous answer from many +voices. + +"Be it our task, then, to find and apply it this night," answered the +chairman, as he took his seat. + +"And there is but one remedy," said Morgan, as Mr. Hargrove sat down. +"The accursed traffic must cease among us. You must cut off the +fountain, if you would dry up the stream. If you would save the young, +the weak, and the innocent--on you God has laid the solemn duty of +their protection--you must cover them from the tempter. Evil is strong, +wily, fierce, and active in the pursuit of its ends. The young, the +weak, and the innocent can no more resist its assaults, than the lamb +can resist the wolf. They are helpless, if you abandon them to the +powers of evil. Men and brethren! as one who has himself been well-nigh +lost--as one who, daily, feels and trembles at the dangers that beset +his path--I do conjure you to stay the fiery stream that is bearing +every thing good and beautiful among you to destruction. Fathers! for +the sake of your young children, be up now and doing. Think of Willy +Hammond, Frank Slade, and a dozen more whose names I could repeat, and +hesitate no longer! Let us resolve, this night, that from henceforth +the traffic shall cease in Cedarville. Is there not a large majority of +citizens in favor of such a measure? And whose rights or interests can +be affected by such a restriction? Who, in fact, has any right to sow +disease and death in our community? The liberty, under sufferance, to +do so, wrongs the individual who uses it, as well as those who become +his victims. Do you want proof of this? Look at Simon Slade, the happy, +kind-hearted miller; and at Simon Slade, the tavern-keeper. Was he +benefited by the liberty to work harm to his neighbor? No! no! In +heaven's name, then, let the traffic cease! To this end, I offer these +resolutions:-- + +"Be it resolved by the inhabitants of Cedarville, That from this day +henceforth, no more intoxicating drink shall be sold within the limits +of the corporation. + +"Resolved, further, That all the liquors in the 'Sickle and Sheaf' be +forthwith destroyed, and that a fund be raised to pay the creditors of +Simon Slade therefor, should they demand compensation. + +"Resolved, That in closing up all other places where liquor is sold, +regard shall be had to the right of property which the law secures to +every man. + +"Resolved, That with the consent of the legal authorities, all the +liquor for sale in Cedarville be destroyed, provided the owners thereof +be paid its full value out of a fund specially raised for that purpose." + +But for the calm yet resolute opposition of one or two men, these +resolutions would have passed by acclamation. A little sober argument +showed the excited company that no good end is ever secured by the +adoption of wrong means. + +There were, in Cedarville, regularly constituted authorities, which +alone had the power to determine public measures, or to say what +business might or might not be pursued by individuals. And through +these authorities they must act in an orderly way. + +There was some little chafing at this view of the case. But good sense +and reason prevailed. Somewhat modified, the resolutions passed, and +the more ultra-inclined contented themselves with carrying out the +second resolution, to destroy forthwith all the liquor to be found on +the premises; which was immediately done. After which the people +dispersed to their homes, each with a lighter heart, and better hopes +for the future of their village. + +On the next day, as I entered the stage that was to bear me from +Cedarville, I saw a man strike his sharp axe into the worn, faded, and +leaning post that had, for so many years, borne aloft the "Sickle and +Sheaf"; and, just as the driver gave word to his horses, the false +emblem which had invited so many to enter the way of destruction, fell +crashing to the earth. + + + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Ten Nights in a Bar Room, by T. S. Arthur + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM *** + +***** This file should be named 4744.txt or 4744.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/4/7/4/4744/ + +Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. 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Arthur + +Release Date: December, 2003 [Etext #4744] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on March 12, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM + +BY T. S. ARTHUR + + + + + +NIGHT THE FIRST. + +THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." + + +Ten years ago, business required me to pass a day in Cedarville. +It was late in the afternoon when the stage set me down at the +"Sickle and Sheaf," a new tavern, just opened by a new landlord, +in a new house, built with the special end of providing +"accommodations for man and beast." As I stepped from the dusty +old vehicle in which I had been jolted along a rough road for some +thirty miles, feeling tired and hungry, the good-natured face of +Simon Slade, the landlord, beaming as it did with a hearty +welcome, was really a pleasant sight to see, and the grasp of his +hand was like that of a true friend. + +I felt as I entered the new and neatly furnished sitting-room +adjoining the bar, that I had indeed found a comfortable resting- +place after my wearisome journey. + +"All as nice as a new pin," said I, approvingly, as I glanced +around the room, up to the ceiling--white as the driven snow--and +over the handsomely carpeted floor. "Haven't seen anything so +inviting as this. How long have you been open?" + +"Only a few months," answered the gratified landlord. "But we are +not yet in good going order. It takes time, you know, to bring +everything into the right shape. Have you dined yet?" + +"No. Everything looked so dirty at the stage-house, where we +stopped to get dinner, that I couldn't venture upon the experiment +of eating. How long before your supper will be ready?" + +"In an hour," replied the landlord. + +"That will do. Let me have a nice piece of tender steak, and the +loss of dinner will soon be forgotten." + +"You shall have that, cooked fit for an alderman," said the +landlord. "I call my wife the best cook in Cedarville." + +As he spoke, a neatly dressed girl, about sixteen years of age, +with rather an attractive countenance, passed through the room. + +"My daughter," said the landlord, as she vanished through the +door. There was a sparkle of pride in the father's eyes, and a +certain tenderness in the tones of his voice, as he said "My +daughter" that told me she was very dear to him. + +"You are a happy man to have so fair a child," said I, speaking +more in compliment than with a careful choice of words. + +"I am a happy man," was the landlord's smiling answer; his fair, +round face, unwrinkled by a line of care or trouble, beaming with +self-satisfaction. "I have always been a happy man, and always +expect to be. Simon Slade takes the world as it comes, and takes +it easy. My son, sir," he added, as a boy, in his twelfth year, +came in. "Speak to the gentleman." + +The boy lifted to mine a pair of deep blue eyes, from which +innocence beamed, as he offered me his hand, and said, +respectfully--"How do you do, sir?" I could not but remark the +girl-like beauty of his face, in which the hardier firmness of the +boy's character was already visible. + +"What is your name?" I asked. + +"Frank, sir." + +"Frank is his name," said the landlord--"we called him after his +uncle. Frank and Flora--the names sound pleasant to the ears. But +you know parents are apt to be a little partial and over fond." + +"Better that extreme than its opposite," I remarked. + +"Just what I always say. Frank, my son,"--the landlord spoke to +the boy--"there's some one in the bar. You can wait on him as well +as I can." + +The lad glided from the room in ready obedience. + +"A handy boy that, sir; a very handy boy. Almost as good, in the +bar as a man. He mixes a toddy or a punch just as well as I can." + +"But," I suggested, "are you not a little afraid of placing one so +young in the way of temptation?" + +"Temptation!" The open brows of Simon Slade contracted a little. +"No, sir!" he replied, emphatically. "The till is safer under his +care than it would be in that of one man in ten. The boy comes, +sir, of honest parents. Simon Slade never wronged anybody out of a +farthing." + +"Oh," said I, quickly, "you altogether misapprehend me. I had no +reference to the till, but to the bottle." + +The landlord's brows were instantly unbent, and a broad smile +circled over his good-humored face. + +"Is that all? Nothing to fear, I can assure you. Frank has no +taste for liquor, and might pour it out for mouths without a drop +finding its way to his lips. Nothing to apprehend there, sir-- +nothing." + +I saw that further suggestions of danger would be useless, and so +remained silent. The arrival of a traveler called away the +landlord, and I was left alone for observation and reflection. The +bar adjoined the neat sitting-room, and I could see, through the +open door, the customer upon whom the lad was attending. He was a +well-dressed young man--or rather boy, for he did not appear to be +over nineteen years of age--with a fine, intelligent face, that +was already slightly marred by sensual indulgence. He raised the +glass to his lips, with a quick, almost eager motion, and drained +it at a single draught. + +"Just right," said he, tossing a sixpence to the young bar-tender. +"You are first rate at a brandy-toddy. Never drank a better in my +life." + +The lad's smiling face told that he was gratified by the +compliment. To me the sight was painful, for I saw that this +youthful tippler was on dangerous ground. + +"Who is that young man in the bar?" I asked, a few minutes +afterward, on being rejoined by the landlord. + +Simon Slade stepped to the door and looked into the bar for a +moment. + +Two or three men were there by this time; but he was at no loss in +answering my question. + +"Oh, that's a son of Judge Hammond, who lives in the large brick +house as you enter the village. Willy Hammond, as everybody +familiarly calls him, is about the finest young man in our +neighborhood. There is nothing proud or put-on about him--nothing +--even if his father is a judge, and rich into the bargain. Every +one, gentle or simple, likes Willy Hammond. And then he is such +good company. Always so cheerful, and always with a pleasant story +on his tongue. And he's so high-spirited withal, and so honorable. +Willy Hammond would lose his right hand rather than be guilty of a +mean action." + +"Landlord!" The voice came loud from the road in front of the +house, and Simon Slade again left me to answer the demands of some +new-comer. I went into the bar-room, in order to take a closer +observation of Willy Hammond, in whom an interest, not unmingled +with concern, had already been awakened in my mind. I found him +engaged in a pleasant conversation with a plain-looking farmer, +whose homely, terse, common sense was quite as conspicuous as his +fine play of words and lively fancy. The farmer was a substantial +conservative, and young Hammond a warm admirer of new ideas and +the quicker adaptation of means to ends. I soon saw that his +mental powers were developed beyond his years, while his personal +qualities were strongly attractive. I understood better, after +being a silent listener and observer for ten minutes, why the +landlord had spoken of him so warmly. + +"Take a brandy-toddy, Mr. H--?" said Hammond, after the discussion +closed, good humoredly. "Frank, our junior bar-keeper here, beats +his father, in that line." + +"I don't care if I do," returned the farmer; and the two passed up +to the bar. + +"Now, Frank, my boy, don't belie my praises," said the young man; +"do your handsomest." + +"Two brandy-toddies, did you say?" Frank made inquiry with quite a +professional air. + +"Just what I did say; and let them be equal to Jove's nectar." + +Pleased at this familiarity, the boy went briskly to his work of +mixing the tempting compound, while Hammond looked on with an +approving smile. + +"There," said the latter, as Frank passed the glasses across the +counter, "if you don't call that first-rate, you're no judge." And +he handed one of them to the farmer, who tasted the agreeable +draught, and praised its flavor. As before, I noticed that Hammond +drank eagerly, like one athirst--emptying his glass without once +taking it from his lips. + +Soon after the bar-room was empty; and then I walked around the +premises, in company with the landlord, and listened to his praise +of everything and his plans and purposes for the future. The +house, yard, garden, and out-buildings were in the most perfect +order; presenting, in the whole, a model of a village tavern. + +"Whatever I do, sir," said the talkative Simon Slade, "I like to +do well. I wasn't just raised to tavern-keeping, you must know; +but I am one who can turn his hand to almost any thing." + +"What was your business?" I inquired. + +"I'm a miller, sir, by trade," he answered--"and a better miller, +though I say it myself, is not to be found in Bolton county. I've +followed milling these twenty years, and made some little money. +But I got tired of hard work, and determined to lead an easier +life. So I sold my mill, and built this house with the money. I +always thought I'd like tavern-keeping. It's an easy life; and, if +rightly seen after, one in which a man is sure to make money." + +"You were still doing a fair business with your mill?" + +"Oh, yes. Whatever I do, I do right. Last year, I put by a +thousand dollars above all expenses, which is not bad, I can +assure you, for a mere grist mill. If the present owner comes out +even, he'll do well!" + +"How is that?" + +"Oh, he's no miller. Give him the best wheat that is grown, and +he'll ruin it in grinding. He takes the life out of every grain. I +don't believe he'll keep half the custom that I transferred with +the mill." + +"A thousand dollars, clear profit, in so useful a business, ought +to have satisfied you," said I. + +"There you and I differ," answered the landlord. "Every man +desires to make as much money as possible, and with the least +labor. I hope to make two or three thousand dollars a year, over +and above all expenses, at tavern-keeping. My bar alone ought to +yield me that sum. A man with a wife and children very naturally +tries to do as well by them as possible." + +"Very true; but," I ventured to suggest, "will this be doing as +well by them as if you had kept on at the mill?" + +"Two or three thousand dollars a year against one thousand! Where +are your figures, man?" + +"There may be something beyond money to take into the account," +said I. + +"What?" inquired Slade, with a kind of half credulity. + +"Consider the different influences of the two callings in life-- +that of a miller and a tavern-keeper." + +"Well, say on." + +"Will your children be as safe from temptation here as in their +former home?" + +"Just as safe," was the unhesitating answer. "Why not?" + +I was about to speak of the alluring glass in the case of Frank, +but remembering that I had already expressed a fear in that +direction, felt that to do so again would be useless, and so kept +silent. + +"A tavern-keeper," said Slade, "is just as respectable as a +miller--in fact, the very people who used to call me 'Simon' or +'Neighbor Dustycoat,' now say 'Landlord,' or 'Mr. Slade,' and +treat me in every way more as if I were an equal than ever they +did before." + +"The change," said I, "may be due to the fact of your giving +evidence of possessing some means. Men are very apt to be +courteous to those who have property. The building of the tavern +has, without doubt, contributed to the new estimation in which you +are held." + +"That isn't all," replied the landlord. "It is because I am +keeping a good tavern, and thus materially advancing the interests +of Cedarville, that some of our best people look at me with +different eyes." + +"Advancing the interests of Cedarville! In what way?" I did not +apprehend his meaning. + +"A good tavern always draws people to a place, while a miserable +old tumble-down of an affair, badly kept, such as we have had for +years, as surely repels them. You can generally tell something +about the condition of a town by looking at its taverns. If they +are well kept, and doing a good business, you will hardly be wrong +in the conclusion that the place is thriving. Why, already, since +I built and opened the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' property has advanced +over twenty per cent along the whole street, and not less than +five new houses have been commenced." + +"Other causes, besides the simple opening of a new tavern, may +have contributed to this result," said I. + +"None of which I am aware. I was talking with Judge Hammond only +yesterday--he owns a great deal of ground on the street--and he +did not hesitate to say, that the building and opening of a good +tavern here had increased the value of his property at least five +thousand dollars. He said, moreover, that he thought the people of +Cedarville ought to present me with a silver pitcher; and that, +for one, he would contribute ten dollars for that purpose." + +The ringing of the supper bell interrupted further conversation; +and with the best of appetites, I took my way to the room, where a +plentiful meal was spread. As I entered, I met the wife of Simon +Slade, just passing out, after seeing that every thing was in +order. I had not observed her before; and now could not help +remarking that she had a flushed, excited countenance, as if she +had been over a hot fire, and was both worried and fatigued. And +there was, moreover, a peculiar expression of the mouth, never +observed in one whose mind is entirely at ease--an expression that +once seen is never forgotten. The face stamped itself instantly on +my memory; and I can even now recall it with almost the original +distinctness. How strongly it contrasted with that of her smiling, +self-satisfied husband, who took his place at the head of his +table with an air of conscious importance. I was too hungry to +talk much, and so found greater enjoyment in eating than in +conversation. The landlord had a more chatty guest by his side, +and I left them to entertain each other, while I did ample justice +to the excellent food with which the table was liberally provided. + +After supper I went to the sitting-room, and remained there until +the lamps were lighted. A newspaper occupied my time for perhaps +half an hour; then the buzz of voices from the adjoining bar-room, +which had been increasing for some time, attracted my attention, +and I went in there to see and hear what was passing. The first +person upon whom my eyes rested was young Hammond, who sat talking +with a man older than himself by several years. At a glance, I saw +that this man could only associate himself with Willy Hammond as a +tempter. Unscrupulous selfishness was written all over his +sinister countenance; and I wondered that it did not strike every +one, as it did me, with instant repulsion. There could not be, I +felt certain, any common ground of association, for two such +persons, but the dead level of a village bar-room. I afterward +learned, during the evening, that this man's name was Harvey +Green, and that he was an occasional visitor at Cedarville, +remaining a few days, or a few weeks at a time, as appeared to +suit his fancy, and having no ostensible business or special +acquaintance with anybody in the village. + +"There is one thing about him," remarked Simon Slade, in answering +some question that I put in reference to the man, "that I don't +object to; he has plenty of money, and is not at all niggardly in +spending it. He used to come here, so he told me, about once in +five or six months; but his stay at the miserably kept tavern, the +only one then in Cedarville, was so uncomfortable, that he had +pretty well made up his mind never to visit us again. Now, +however, he has engaged one of my best rooms, for which he pays me +by the year, and I am to charge him full board for the time he +occupies it. He says that there is something about Cedarville that +always attracts him; and that his health is better while here than +it is anywhere except South during the winter season. He'll never +leave less than two or three hundred dollars a year in our +village--there is one item, for you, of advantage to a place in +having a good tavern." + +"What is his business?" I asked. "Is he engaged in any trading +operations?" + +The landlord shrugged his shoulders, and looked slightly +mysterious, as he answered: + +"I never inquire about the business of a guest. My calling is to +entertain strangers. If they are pleased with my house, and pay my +bills on presentation, I have no right to seek further. As a +miller, I never asked a customer, whether he raised, bought, or +stole his wheat. It was my business to grind it, and I took care +to do it well. Beyond that, it was all his own affair. And so it +will be in my new calling. I shall mind my own business and keep +my own place." + +Besides young Hammond and this Harvey Green, there were in the +bar-room, when I entered, four others besides the landlord. Among +these was a Judge Lyman--so he was addressed--a man between forty +and fifty years of age, who had a few weeks before received the +Democratic nomination for member of Congress. He was very +talkative and very affable, and soon formed a kind of centre of +attraction to the bar-room circle. Among other topics of +conversation that came up was the new tavern, introduced by the +landlord, in whose mind it was, very naturally, the uppermost +thought. + +"The only wonder to me is," said Judge Lyman, "that nobody had wit +enough to see the advantage of a good tavern in Cedarville ten +years ago, or enterprise enough to start one. I give our friend +Slade the credit of being a shrewd, far-seeing man; and, mark my +word for it, in ten years from to-day he will be the richest man +in the county." + +"Nonsense--Ho! ho!" Simon Slade laughed outright. "The richest +man! You forget Judge Hammond." + +"No, not even Judge Hammond, with all deference for our clever +friend Willy," and Judge Lyman smiled pleasantly on the young man. + +"If he gets richer, somebody will be poorer!" The individual who +tittered these words had not spoken before, and I turned to look +at him more closely. A glance showed him to be one of a class seen +in all bar-rooms; a poor, broken-down inebriate, with the inward +power of resistance gone--conscious of having no man's respect, +and giving respect to none. There was a shrewd twinkle in his +eyes, as he fixed them on Slade, that gave added force to the +peculiar tone in which his brief but telling sentence was uttered. +I noticed a slight contraction on the landlord's ample forehead, +the first evidence I had yet seen of ruffled feelings. The remark, +thrown in so untimely (or timely, some will say), and with a kind +of prophetic malice, produced a temporary pause in the +conversation. No one answered or questioned the intruder, who, I +could perceive, silently enjoyed the effect of his words. But soon +the obstructed current ran on again. + +"If our excellent friend, Mr. Slade," said Harvey Green, "is not +the richest man in Cedarville at the end of ten years, he will at +least enjoy the satisfaction of having made his town richer." + +"A true word that," replied Judge Lyman--"as true a word as ever +was spoken. What a dead-and-alive place this has been until within +the last few months. All vigorous growth had stopped, and we were +actually going to seed." + +"And the graveyard, too," muttered the individual who had before +disturbed the self-satisfied harmony of the company, remarking +upon the closing sentence of Harvey Green. "Come, landlord," he +added, as he strode across to the bar, speaking in a changed, +reckless sort of a way, "fix me up a good hot whisky-punch, and do +it right; and here's another sixpence toward the fortune you are +bound to make. It's the last one left--not a copper more in my +pockets," and he turned them inside-out, with a half-solemn, half- +ludicrous air. "I send it to keep company in your till with four +others that have found their way into that snug place since +morning, and which will be lonesome without their little friend." + +I looked at Simon Slade; his eyes rested on mine for a moment or +two, and then sunk beneath my earnest gaze. I saw that his +countenance flushed, and that his motions were slightly confused. +The incident, it was plain, did not awaken agreeable thoughts. +Once I saw his hand move toward the sixpence that lay upon the +counter; but whether to push it back or draw it toward the till, I +could not determine. The whisky-punch was in due time ready, and +with it the man retired to a table across the room, and sat down +to enjoy the tempting beverage. As he did so, the landlord quietly +swept the poor unfortunate's last sixpence into his drawer. The +influence of this strong potation was to render the man a little +more talkative. To the free conversation passing around him he +lent an attentive ear, dropping in a word, now and then, that +always told upon the company like a well-directed blow. At last, +Slade lost all patience with him, and said, a little fretfully: + +"Look here, Joe Morgan, if you will be ill-natured, pray go +somewhere else, and not interrupt good feeling among gentlemen." + +"Got my last sixpence," retorted Joe, turning his pockets inside- +out again. "No more use for me here to-night. That's the way of +the world. How apt a scholar is our good friend Dustycoat, in this +new school! Well, he was a good miller--no one ever disputed that +--and it's plain to see that he is going to make a good landlord. I +thought his heart was a little too soft; but the indurating +process has begun, and, in less than ten years, if it isn't as +hard as one of his old mill-stones, Joe Morgan is no prophet. Oh, +you needn't knit your brows so, friend Simon, we're old friends; +and friends are privileged to speak plain." + +"I wish you'd go home. You're not yourself tonight," said the +landlord, a little coaxingly, for he saw that nothing was to be +gained by quarreling with Morgan. "Maybe my heart is growing +harder," he added, with affected good-humor; "and it is time, +perhaps. One of my weaknesses, I have heard even you say, was +being too woman-hearted." + +"No danger of that now," retorted Joe Morgan. "I've known a good +many landlords in my time, but can't remember one that was +troubled with the disease that once afflicted you." + +Just at this moment the outer door was pushed open with a slow, +hesitating motion; then a little pale face peered in, and a pair +of soft blue eyes went searching about the room. Conversation was +instantly hushed, and every face, excited with interest, turned +toward the child, who had now stepped through the door. She was +not over ten years of age; but it moved the heart to look upon the +saddened expression of her young countenance, and the forced +bravery therein, that scarcely overcame the native timidity so +touchingly visible. + +"Father!" I have never heard this word spoken in a voice that sent +such a thrill along every nerve. It was full of sorrowful love-- +full of a tender concern that had its origin too deep for the +heart of a child. As she spoke, the little one sprang across the +room, and laying her hands upon the arm of Joe Morgan, lifted her +eyes, that were ready to gush over with tears, to his face. + +"Come father! won't you come home?" I hear that low, pleading +voice even now, and my heart gives a quicker throb. Poor child! +Darkly shadowed was the sky that bent gloomily over thy young +life. + +Morgan arose, and suffered the child to lead him from the room. He +seemed passive in her hands. I noticed that he thrust his fingers +nervously into his pocket, and that a troubled look went over his +face as they were withdrawn. His last sixpence was in the till of +Simon Slade! + +The first man who spoke was Harvey Green, and this not for a +minute after the father and his child had vanished through the +door. + +"If I was in your place, landlord"--his voice was cold and +unfeeling--"I'd pitch that fellow out of the bar-room the next +time he stepped through the door. He's no business here, in the +first place; and, in the second, he doesn't know how to behave +himself. There's no telling how much a vagabond like him injures a +respectable house." + +"I wish he would stay away," said Simon, with a perplexed air. + +"I'd make him stay away," answered Green. + +"That may be easier said than done," remarked Judge Lyman. "Our +friend keeps a public-house, and can't just say who shall or shall +not come into it." + +"But such a fellow has no business here. He's a good-for-nothing +sot. If I kept a tavern, I'd refuse to sell him liquor." + +"That you might do," said Judge Lyman; "and I presume your hint +will not be lost on our friend Slade." + +"He will have liquor, so long as he can get a cent to buy it +with," remarked one of the company; "and I don't see why our +landlord here, who has gone to so much expense to fit up a tavern, +shouldn't have the sale of it as well as anybody else. Joe talks a +little freely sometimes; but no one can say that he is +quarrelsome. You've got to take him as he is, that's all." + +"I am one," retorted Harvey Green, with a slightly ruffled manner, +"who is never disposed to take people as they are when they choose +to render themselves disagreeable. If I was Mr. Slade, as I +remarked in the beginning, I'd pitch that fellow into the road the +next time he put his foot over my door step." + +"Not if I were present," remarked the other, coolly. + +Green was on his feet in a moment, and I saw, from the flash of +his eyes, that he was a man of evil passions. Moving a pace or two +in the direction of the other, he said sharply. + +"What is that, sir?" + +The individual against whom his anger was so suddenly aroused was +dressed plainly, and had the appearance of a working man. He was +stout and muscular. + +"I presume you heard my words. They were spoken distinctly," he +replied, not moving from where he sat, nor seeming to be in the +least disturbed. But there was a cool defiance in the tones of his +voice and in the steady look of his eyes. + +"You're an impertinent fellow, and I'm half tempted to chastise +you." + +Green had scarcely finished the sentence, ere he was lying full +length upon the floor. The other had sprung upon him like a tiger, +and with one blow from his heavy fist, struck him down as if he +had been a child. For a moment or two, Green lay stunned and +bewildered--then, starting up with a savage cry, that sounded more +bestial than human, he drew a long knife from a concealed sheath, +and attempted to stab his assailant, but the murderous purpose was +not accomplished, for the other man, who had superior strength and +coolness, saw the design, and with a well directed blow almost +broke the arm of Green, causing the knife to leave his hand and +glide far across the room. + +"I'm half tempted to wring your neck off," exclaimed the man, +whose name was Lyon, now much excited, and seizing Green by the +throat, he strangled him until his face grew black. "Draw a knife +on me, ha! You murdering villain!" And he gripped him tighter. + +Judge Lyman and the landlord now interfered, and rescued Green +from the hands of his fully aroused antagonist. For some time they +stood growling at each other, like two parted dogs struggling to +get free, in order to renew the conflict, but gradually cooled +off. In a little while Judge Lyman drew Green aside, and the two +men left the bar-room to other. In the door, as they were +retiring, the former slightly nodded to Willy Hammond, who soon +followed them, going into the sitting room, and from thence, as I +could perceive, upstairs to an apartment above. + +"Not after much good," I heard Lyon mutter to himself. "If Judge +Hammond don't look a little closer after that boy of his, he'll be +sorry for it, that's all" + +"Who is this Green?" I asked of Lyon, finding myself alone with +him in the bar-room soon after. + +"A blackleg, I take it," was his unhesitating answer. + +"Does Judge Lyman suspect his real character?" + +"I don't know anything about that, but I wouldn't be afraid to bet +ten dollars, that if you could look in upon them now, you would +find cards in their hands." + +"What a school, and what teachers for the youth who just went with +them!" I could not help remarking. + +"Willy Hammond?" + +"Yes." + +"You may well say that. What can his father be thinking about to +leave him exposed to such influences!" + +"He's one of the few who are in raptures about this tavern, +because its erection has slightly increased the value of his +property about here, but if he is not the loser of fifty per cent +for every one gained, before ten years go by, I'm very much in +error." + +"How so?" + +"It will prove, I fear, the open door to ruin to his son." + +"That's bad," said I. + +"Bad! It is awful to think of. There is not a finer young man in +the country, nor one with better mind and heart, than Willy +Hammond. So much the sadder will be his destruction. Ah, sir! this +tavern-keeping is a curse to any place." + +"But I thought, just now, that you spoke in favor of letting even +the poor drunkard's money go into the landlord's till, in order to +encourage his commendable enterprise in opening so good a tavern." + +"We all speak with covert irony sometimes," answered the man, "as +I did then. Poor Joe Morgan! He is an old and early friend of +Simon Slade. They were boys together, and worked as millers under +the same roof for many years. In fact, Joe's father owned the +mill, and the two learned their trade with him. When old Morgan +died, the mill came into Joe's hands. It was in rather a worn-out +condition, and Joe went in debt for some pretty thorough repairs +and additions of machinery. By and by, Simon Slade, who was hired +by Joe to run the mill, received a couple of thousand dollars at +the death of an aunt. This sum enabled him to buy a share in the +mill, which Morgan was very glad to sell in order to get clear of +his debt. Time passed on, and Joe left his milling interest almost +entirely in the care of Slade, who, it must be said in his favor, +did not neglect the business. But it somehow happened--I will not +say unfairly--that at the end of ten years, Joe Morgan no longer +owned a share in the mill. The whole property was in the hands of +Slade. People did not much wonder at this; for while Slade was +always to be found at the mill, industrious, active, and attentive +to customers, Morgan was rarely seen on the premises. You would +oftener find him in the woods, with a gun over his shoulder, or +sitting by a trout brook, or lounging at the tavern. And yet +everybody liked Joe, for he was companionable, quick-witted, and +very kind-hearted. He would say sharp things, sometimes, when +people manifested little meannesses; but there was so much honey +in his gall, that bitterness rarely predominated. + +"A year or two before his ownership in the mill ceased, Morgan +married one of the sweetest girls in our town--Fanny Ellis, that +was her name, and she could have had her pick of the young men. +Everybody affected to wonder at her choice; and yet nobody really +did wonder, for Joe was an attractive young man, take him as you +would, and just the one to win the heart of a girl like Fanny. +What if he had been seen, now and then, a little the worse for +drink! What if he showed more fondness for pleasure than for +business! Fanny did not look into the future with doubt or fear. +She believed that her love was strong enough to win him from all +evil allurements: and, as for this world's goods, they were +matters in which her maiden fancies rarely busied themselves. + +"Well. Dark days came for her, poor soul! And yet, in all the +darkness of her earthly lot, she has never, it is said, been +anything but a loving, forbearing, self-denying wife to Morgan. +And he--fallen as he is, and powerless in the grasp of the monster +intemperance--has never, I am sure, hurt her with a cruel word. +Had he added these, her heart would, long ere this, have broken. +Poor Joe Morgan! Poor Fanny! Oh, what a curse is this drink!" + +The man, warming with his theme, had spoken with an eloquence I +had not expected from his lips. Slightly overmastered by his +feelings, he paused for a moment or two, and then added: + +"It was unfortunate for Joe, at least, that Slade sold his mill, +and became a tavern-keeper; for Joe had a sure berth, and wages +regularly paid. He didn't always stick to his work, but would go +off on a spree every now and then; but Slade bore with all this, +and worked harder himself to make up for his hand's shortcoming. +And no matter what deficiency the little store-room at home might +show, Fanny Morgan never found her meal barrel empty without +knowing where to get it replenished. + +"But, after Slade sold his mill, a sad change took place. The new +owner was little disposed to pay wages to a hand who would not +give him all his time during working hours; and in less than two +weeks from the day he took possession, Morgan was discharged. +Since then, he has been working about at one odd job and another, +earning scarcely enough to buy the liquor it requires to feed the +inordinate thirst that is consuming him. I am not disposed to +blame Simon Slade for the wrong-doing of Morgan; but here is a +simple fact in the case--if he had kept on at the useful calling +of a miller, he would have saved this man's family from want, +suffering, and a lower deep of misery than that into which they +have already fallen. I merely state it, and you can draw your own +conclusions. It is one of the many facts, on the other side of +this tavern question, which it will do no harm to mention. I have +noted a good many facts besides, and one is, that before Slade +opened the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' he did all in his power to save his +early friend from the curse of intemperance; now he has become his +tempter. Heretofore, it was his hand that provided the means for +his family to live in some small degree of comfort; now he takes +the poor pittance the wretched man earns, and dropping it in his +till, forgets the wife and children at home who are hungry for the +bread this money should have purchased. + +"Joe Morgan, fallen as he is, sir, is no fool. His mind sees +quickly yet; and he rarely utters a sentiment that is not full of +meaning. When he spoke of Blade's heart growing as hard in ten +years as one of his old mill-stones, he was not uttering words at +random, nor merely indulging in a harsh sentiment, little caring +whether it were closely applicable or not. That the indurating +process had begun, he, alas! was too sadly conscious." + +The landlord had been absent from the room for some time. He left +soon after Judge Lyman, Harvey Green, and Willy Hammond withdrew, +and I did not see him again during the evening. His son Frank was +left to attend at the bar; no very hard task, for not more than +half a dozen called in to drink from the time Morgan left until +the bar was closed. + +While Mr. Lyon was giving me the brief history just recorded, I +noticed a little incident that caused a troubled feeling to +pervade my mind. After a man, for whom the landlord's son had +prepared a fancy drink, had nearly emptied his glass, he set it +down upon the counter and went out. A tablespoonful or two +remained in the glass, and I noticed Frank, after smelling at it +two or three times, put the glass to his lips and sip the +sweetened liquor. The flavor proved agreeable; for, after tasting +it, he raised the glass again and drained every drop. + +"Frank!" I heard a low voice, in a warning tone, pronounce the +name, and glancing toward a door partly open, that led from the +inside of the bar to the yard, I saw the face of Mrs. Slade. It +had the same troubled expression I had noticed before, but now +blended with anxiety. + +The boy went out at the call of his mother; and when a new +customer entered, I noticed that Flora, the daughter, came in to +wait upon him. I noticed, too, that while she poured out the +liquor, there was a heightened color on her face, in which I +fancied that I saw a tinge of shame. It is certain that she was +not in the least gracious to the person on whom she was waiting; +and that there was little heart in her manner of performing the +task. + +Ten o'clock found me alone and musing in the barroom over the +occurrences of the evening. Of all the incidents, that of the +entrance of Joe Morgan's child kept the most prominent place in my +thoughts. The picture of that mournful little face was ever before +me; and I seemed all the while to hear the word "Father," uttered +so touchingly, and yet with such a world of childish tenderness. +And the man, who would have opposed the most stubborn resistance +to his fellow-men, had they sought to force him from the room, +going passively, almost meekly out, led by that little child--I +could not, for a time, turn my thoughts from the image thereof! +And then thought bore me to the wretched home, back to which the +gentle, loving child had taken her father, and my heart grew faint +in me as imagination busied itself with all the misery there. + +And Willy Hammond. The little that I had heard and seen of him +greatly interested me in his favor. Ah! upon what dangerous ground +was he treading. How many pitfalls awaited his feet--how near they +were to the brink of a fearful precipice, down which to fall was +certain destruction. How beautiful had been his life-promise! How +fair the opening day of his existence! Alas! the clouds were +gathering already, and the low rumble of the distant thunder +presaged the coming of a fearful tempest. Was there none to warn +him of the danger? Alas! all might now come too late, for so few +who enter the path in which his steps were treading will hearken +to friendly counsel, or heed the solemn warning. Where was he now? +This question recurred over and over again. He had left the bar- +room with Judge Lyman and Green early in the evening, and had not +made his appearance since. Who and what was Green? And Judge +Lyman, was he a man of principle? One with whom it was safe to +trust a youth like Willy Hammond? + +While I mused thus, the bar-room door opened, and a man past the +prime of life, with a somewhat florid face, which gave a strong +relief to the gray, almost white hair that, suffered to grow +freely, was pushed back, and lay in heavy masses on his coat +collar, entered with a hasty step. He was almost venerable in +appearance; yet there was in his dark, quick eyes the brightness +of unquenched loves, the fires of which were kindled at the altars +of selfishness and sensuality. This I saw at a glance. There was a +look of concern on his face, as he threw his eyes around the bar- +room; and he seemed disappointed, I thought, at finding it empty. + +"Is Simon Slade here?" + +As I answered in the negative, Mrs. Slade entered through the door +that opened from the yard, and stood behind the counter. + +"Ah, Mrs. Slade! Good evening, madam!" he said. + +"Good evening, Judge Hammond." + +"Is your husband at home?" + +"I believe he is," answered Mrs. Slade. "I think he is somewhere +about the house." + +"Ask him to step here, will you?" + +Mrs. Slade went out. Nearly five minutes went by, during which +time Judge Hammond paced the floor of the bar-room uneasily. Then +the landlord made his appearance. The free, open, manly, self- +satisfied expression of his countenance, which I had remarked on +alighting from the stage in the afternoon, was gone. I noticed at +once the change, for it was striking. He did not look steadily +into the face of Judge Hammond, who asked him, in a low voice, if +his son had been there during the evening. + +"He was here," said Slade. + +"When?" + +"He came in some time after dark and stayed, maybe, an hour." + +"And hasn't been here since?" + +"It's nearly two hours since he left the bar-room," replied the +landlord. + +Judge Hammond seemed perplexed. There was a degree of evasion in +Slade's manner that he could hardly help noticing. To me it was +all apparent, for I had lively suspicions that made my observation +acute. + +Judge Hammond crossed his arms behind him, and took three or four +strides about the floor. + +"Was Judge Lyman here to-night?" he then asked. + +"He was," answered Slade. + +"Did he and Willy go out together?" + +The question seemed an unexpected one for the landlord. Slade +appeared slightly confused, and did not answer promptly. + +"I--I rather think they did," he said, after a brief hesitation. + +"Ah, well! Perhaps he is at Judge Lyman's. I will call over +there." + +And Judge Hammond left the bar-room. + +"Would you like to retire, sir?" said the landlord, now turning to +me, with a forced smile--I saw that it was forced. + +"If you please," I answered. + +He lit a candle and conducted me to my room, where, overwearied +with the day's exertion, I soon fell asleep, and did not awake +until the sun was shining brightly into my windows. + +I remained at the village a portion of the day, but saw nothing of +the parties in whom the incidents of the previous evening had +awakened a lively interest. At four o'clock I left in the stage, +and did not visit Cedarville again for a year. + + + + + +NIGHT THE SECOND. + +THE CHANGES OF A YEAR. + + +A cordial grasp of the hand and a few words of hearty welcome +greeted me as I alighted from the stage at the "Sickle and Sheaf," +on my next visit to Cedarville. At the first glance, I saw no +change in the countenance, manner, or general bearing of Simon +Slade, the landlord. With him, the year seemed to have passed like +a pleasant summer day. His face was round, and full, and rosy, and +his eyes sparkled with that good humor which flows from intense +self-satisfaction. Everything about him seemed to say--"All 'right +with myself and the world." + +I had scarcely expected this. From what I saw during my last brief +sojourn at the "Sickle and Sheaf," the inference was natural, that +elements had been called into activity, which must produce changes +adverse to those pleasant states of mind that threw an almost +perpetual sunshine over the landlord's countenance. How many +hundreds of times had I thought of Tom Morgan and Willy Hammond-- +of Frank, and the temptations to which a bar-room exposed him. The +heart of Slade must, indeed, be as hard as one of his old mill- +stones, if he could remain an unmoved witness of the corruption +and degradation of these. + +"My fears have outrun the actual progress of things," said I to +myself, with a sense of relief, as I mused alone in the still +neatly arranged sitting-room, after the landlord, who sat and +chatted for a few minutes, had left me. "There is, I am willing to +believe, a basis of good in this man's character, which has led +him to remove, as far as possible, the more palpable evils that +ever attach themselves to a house of public entertainment. He had +but entered on the business last year. There was much to be +learned, pondered, and corrected. Experience, I doubt not, has led +to many important changes in the manner of conducting the +establishment, and especially in what pertains to the bar." + +As I thought thus, my eyes glanced through the half-open door, and +rested on the face of Simon Slade. He was standing behind his bar +--evidently alone in the room--with his head bent in a musing +attitude. At first I was in some doubt as to the identity of the +singularly changed countenance. Two deep perpendicular seams lay +sharply defined on his forehead--the arch of his eyebrows was +gone, and from each corner of his compressed lips, lines were seen +reaching half-way to the chin. Blending with a slightly troubled +expression, was a strongly marked selfishness, evidently brooding +over the consummation of its purpose. For some moments I sat +gazing on his face, half doubting at times if it were really that +of Simon Slade. Suddenly a gleam flashed over it--an ejaculation +was uttered, and one clenched hand brought down, with a sharp +stroke, into the open palm of the other. The landlord's mind had +reached a conclusion, and was resolved upon action. There were no +warm rays in the gleam of light that irradiated his countenance-- +at least none for my heart, which felt under them an almost icy +coldness. + +"Just the man I was thinking about." I heard the landlord say, as +some one entered the bar, while his whole manner underwent a +sudden change. + +"The old saying is true," was answered in a voice, the tones of +which were familiar to my ears. + +"Thinking of the old Harry?" said Slade. + +"Yes." + +"True, literally, in the present case," I heard the landlord +remark, though in a much lower tone; "for, if you are not the +devil himself, you can't be farther removed than a second cousin." + +A low, gurgling laugh met this little sally. There was something +in it so unlike a human laugh, that it caused my blood to trickle, +for a moment, coldly along my veins. + +I heard nothing more except the murmur of voices in the bar, for a +hand shut the partly opened door that led from the sitting room. + +Whose was that voice? I recalled its tones, and tried to fix in my +thought the person to whom it belonged, but was unable to do so. I +was not very long in doubt, for on stepping out on the porch in +front of the tavern, the well remembered face of Harvey Green +presented itself. He stood in the bar-room door, and was talking +earnestly to Slade, whose back was toward me. I saw that he +recognized me, although I had not passed a word with him on the +occasion of my former visit, and there was a lighting up of his +countenance as if about to speak--but I withdrew my eyes from his +face to avoid the unwelcome greeting. When I looked at him again, +I saw that he was regarding me with a sinister glance, which was +instantly withdrawn. In what broad, black characters was the word +TEMPTER written on his face! How was it possible for anyone to +look thereon, and not read the warning inscription! + +Soon after, he withdrew into the bar-room and the landlord came +and took a seat near me on the porch. + +"How is the 'Sickle and Sheaf' coming on?" I inquired. + +"First rate," was the answer--"First rate." + +"As well as you expected?" + +"Better." + +"Satisfied with your experiment?" + +"Perfectly. Couldn't get me back to the rumbling old mill again, +if you were to make me a present of it." + +"What of the mill?" I asked. "How does the new owner come on?" + +"About as I thought it would be." + +"Not doing very well?" + +"How could it be expected when he didn't know enough of the +milling business to grind a bushel of wheat right? He lost half of +the custom I transferred to him in less than three months. Then he +broke his main shaft, and it took over three weeks to get in a new +one. Half of his remaining customers discovered by this time, that +they could get far better meal from their grain at Harwood's mill +near Lynwood, and so did not care to trouble him any more. The +upshot of the whole matter is, he broke down next, and had to sell +the mill at a heavy loss." + +"Who has it now?" + +"Judge Hammond is the purchaser." + +"He is going to rent it, I suppose?" + +"No; I believe he means to turn it into some kind of a factory-- +and, I rather think, will connect therewith a distillery. This is +a fine grain-growing country, as you know. If he does set up a +distillery he'll make a fine thing of it. Grain has been too low +in this section for some years; this all the farmers have felt, +and they are very much pleased at the idea. It will help them +wonderfully. I always thought my mill a great thing for the +farmers; but what I did for them was a mere song compared to the +advantage of an extensive distillery." + +"Judge Hammond is one of your richest men?" + +"Yes--the richest in the county. And what is more, he's a shrewd, +far-seeing man, and knows how to multiply his riches." + +"How is his son Willy coming on?" + +"Oh! first-rate." + +The landlord's eyes fell under the searching look I bent upon him. + +"How old is he now?" + +"Just twenty." + +"A critical age," I remarked. + +"So people say; but I didn't find it so," answered Slade, a little +distantly. + +"The impulses within and the temptations without, are the measure +of its dangers. At his age, you were, no doubt, daily employed at +hard work." + +"I was, and no mistake." + +"Thousands and hundreds of thousands are indebted to useful work, +occupying many hours through each day, and leaving them with +wearied bodies at night, for their safe passage from yielding +youth to firm, resisting manhood. It might not he with you as it +is now, had leisure and freedom to go in and out when you pleased +been offered at the age of nineteen." + +"I can't tell as to that," said the landlord, shrugging his +shoulders. "But I don't see that Willy Hammond is in any especial +danger. He is a young man with many admirable qualities--is +social-liberal--generous almost to a fault--but has good common +sense, and wit enough, I take it, to keep out of harm's way." + +A man passing the house at the moment, gave Simon Slade an +opportunity to break off a conversation that was not, I could see, +altogether agreeable. As he left me, I arose and stepped into the +bar-room. Frank, the landlord's son, was behind the bar. He had +grown considerably in the year--and from a rather delicate, +innocent-looking boy, to a stout, bold lad. His face was rounder, +and had a gross, sensual expression, that showed itself +particularly about the mouth. The man Green was standing beside +the bar talking to him, and I noticed that Frank laughed heartily, +at some low, half obscene remarks that he was making. In the midst +of these, Flora, the sister of Frank, a really beautiful girl, +came in to get something from the bar. Green spoke to her +familiarly, and Flora answered him with a perceptibly heightening +color. + +I glanced toward Frank, half expecting to see an indignant flush +on his young face. But no--he looked on with a smile! "Ah!" +thought I, "have the boy's pure impulses so soon died out in this +fatal atmosphere? Can he bear to see those evil eyes--he knows +they are evil--rest upon the face of his sister? or to hear those +lips, only a moment since polluted with vile words, address her +with the familiarity of a friend?" + +"Fine girl, that sister of yours, Frank! Fine girl!" said Green, +after Flora had withdrawn--speaking of her with about as much +respect in his voice as if he were praising a fleet racer or a +favorite hound. + +The boy smiled, with a pleased air. + +"I must try and find her a good husband, Frank. I wonder if she +wouldn't have me?" + +"You'd better ask her," said the boy, laughing. + +"I would if I thought there was any chance for me." + +"Nothing like trying. Faint heart never won fair lady," returned +Frank, more with the air of a man than a boy. How fast he was +growing old! + +"A banter, by George!" exclaimed Green, slapping his hands +together. "You're a great boy, Frank! a great boy! I shall have to +talk to your father about you. Coming on too fast. Have to be put +back in your lessons--hey!" + +And Green winked at the boy, and shook his finger at him. Frank +laughed in a pleased way, as he replied: "I guess I'll do." + +"I guess you will," said Green, as, satisfied with his colloquy, +he turned off and left the bar-room. + +"Have something to drink, sir?" inquired Frank, addressing me in a +bold, free way. + +I shook my head. + +"Here's a newspaper," he added. + +I took the paper and sat down--not to read, but to observe. Two or +three men soon came in, and spoke in a very familiar way to Frank, +who was presently busy setting out the liquors they had called +for. Their conversation, interlarded with much that was profane +and vulgar, was of horses, horse-racing, gunning, and the like, to +all of which the young bar-tender lent an attentive ear, putting +in a word now and then, and showing an intelligence in such +matters quite beyond his age. In the midst thereof, Mr. Slade made +his appearance. His presence caused a marked change in Frank, who +retired from his place among the men, a step or two outside of the +bar, and did not make a remark while his father remained. It was +plain from this, that Mr. Slade was not only aware of Frank's +dangerous precocity, but had already marked his forwardness by +rebuke. + +So far, all that I had seen and heard impressed me unfavorably, +notwithstanding the declaration of Simon Slade, that everything +about the "Sickle and Sheaf" was coming on "first-rate," and that +he was "perfectly satisfied" with his experiment. Why, even if the +man had gained, in money, fifty thousand dollars by tavern-keeping +in a year, he had lost a jewel in the innocence of his boy that +was beyond all valuation. "Perfectly satisfied?" Impossible! He +was not perfectly satisfied. How could he be? The look thrown upon +Frank when he entered the bar-room, and saw him "hale fellow, well +met," with three or four idle, profane, drinking customers, +contradicted that assertion. + +After supper, I took a seat in the bar-room, to see how life moved +on in that place of rendezvous for the surface-population of +Cedarville. Interest enough in the characters I had met there a +year before remained for me to choose this way of spending the +time, instead of visiting at the house of a gentleman who had +kindly invited me to pass an evening with his family. + +The bar-room custom, I soon found, had largely increased in a +year. It now required, for a good part of the time, the active +services of both the landlord and his son to meet the calls for +liquor. What pained me most, was to see the large number of lads +and young men who came in to lounge and drink; and there was +scarcely one of them whose face did not show marks of sensuality, +or whose language was not marred by obscenity, profanity, or +vulgar slang. The subjects of conversation were varied enough, +though politics was the most prominent. In regard to politics I +heard nothing in the least instructive; but only abuse of +individuals and dogmatism on public measures. They were all +exceedingly confident in assertion; but I listened in vain for +exposition, or even for demonstrative facts. He who asseverated in +the most positive manner, and swore the hardest, carried the day +in the petty contests. + +I noticed, early in the evening, and at a time when all the +inmates of the room were in the best possible humor with +themselves, the entrance of an elderly man, on whose face I +instantly read a deep concern. It was one of those mild, yet +strongly marked faces, that strike you at a glance. The forehead +was broad, the eyes large and far back in their sockets, the lips +full but firm. You saw evidences of a strong, but well-balanced +character. As he came in, I noticed a look of intelligence pass +from one to another; and then the eyes of two or three were fixed +upon a young man who was seated not far from me, with his back to +the entrance, playing at dominoes. He had a glass of ale by his +side. The old man searched about the room for some moments, before +his glance rested upon the individual I have mentioned. My eyes +were full upon his face, as he advanced toward him, as yet unseen. +Upon it was not a sign of angry excitement, but a most touching +sorrow. + +"Edward!" he said, as he laid his hand gently on the young man's +shoulder. The latter started at the voice, and crimsoned deeply. A +few moments he sat irresolute. + +"Edward, my son!" It would have been a cold, hard heart indeed +that softened not under the melting tenderness of these tones. The +call was irresistible, and obedience a necessity. The powers of +evil had, yet, too feeble a grasp on the young man's heart to hold +him in thrall. Rising with a half-reluctant manner, and with a +shamefacedness that it was impossible to conceal, he retired as +quietly as possible. The notice of only a few in the bar-room was +attracted by the incident. + +"I can tell you what," I heard the individual, with whom the young +man had been playing at dominoes, remark--himself not twenty years +of age--"if my old man were to make a fool of himself in this way +--sneaking around after me in bar-rooms-he'd get only his trouble +for his pains. I'd like to see him try it, though! There'd be a +nice time of it, I guess. Wouldn't I creep off with him, as meek +as a lamb! Ho! ho!" + +"Who is that old gentleman who came in just now?" I inquired of +the person who thus commented on the incident which had just +occurred. + +"Mr. Hargrove is his name." + +"And that was his son?" + +"Yes; and I'm only sorry he doesn't possess a little more spirit." + +"How old is he?" + +"About twenty." + +"Not of legal age, then?" + +"He's old enough to be his own master." + +"The law says differently," I suggested. + +In answer, the young man cursed the law, snapping his fingers in +its imaginary face as he did so. + +"At least you will admit," said I, "that Edward Hargrove, in the +use of a liberty to go where he pleases, and do what he pleases, +exhibits but small discretion." + +"I will admit no such thing. What harm is there, I would like to +know, in a social little game such as we were playing? There were +no stakes--we were not gambling." + +I pointed to the half-emptied glass of ale left by young Hargrove. + +"Oh! oh!" half sneered, half laughed a man, twice the age of the +one I had addressed, who sat near by, listening to our +conversation. I looked at him for a moment, and then said: + +"The great danger lies there, without doubt. If it were only a +glass of ale and a game of dominoes--but it doesn't stop there, +and well the young man's father knows it." + +"Perhaps he does," was answered. "I remember him in his younger +days; and a pretty high boy he was. He didn't stop at a glass of +ale and a game of dominoes; not he! I've seen him as drunk as a +lord many a time; and many a time at a horse-race, or cock-fight, +betting with the bravest. I was only a boy, though a pretty old +boy; but I can tell you, Hargrove was no saint." + +"I wonder not, then, that he is so anxious for his son," was my +remark. "He knows well the lurking dangers in the path he seems +inclined to enter." + +"I don't see that they have done him much harm. He sowed his wild +oats--then got married, and settled down into a good, substantial +citizen. A little too religious and pharisaical, I always thought; +but upright in his dealings. He had his pleasures in early life, +as was befitting the season of youth--why not let his son taste of +the same agreeable fruit? He's wrong, sir--wrong! And I've said as +much to Ned. I only wish the boy had shown the right spunk this +evening, and told the old man to go home about his business." + +"So do I," chimed in the young disciple in this bad school. "It's +what I'd say to my old man, in double quick time, if he was to +come hunting after me." + +"He knows better than to do that," said the other, in a way that +let me deeper into the young man's character. + +"Indeed he does. He's tried his hand on me once or twice during +the last year, but found it wouldn't do, no how; Tom Peters is out +of his leading-strings." + +"And can drink his glass with any one, and not be a grain the +worse for it." + +"Exactly, old boy!" said Peters, slapping his preceptor on the +knee. "Exactly! I'm not one of your weak-headed ones. Oh no!" + +"Look here, Joe Morgan!"--the half-angry voice of Simon Slade now +rung through the bar-room,--"just take yourself off home!" + +I had not observed the entrance of this person. He was standing at +the bar, with an emptied glass in his hand. A year had made no +improvement in his appearance. On the contrary, his clothes were +more worn and tattered; his countenance more sadly marred. What he +had said to irritate the landlord, I know not; but Slade's face +was fiery with passion, and his eyes glared threateningly at the +poor besotted one, who showed not the least inclination to obey. + +"Off with you, I say! And never show your face here again. I won't +have such low vagabonds as you are about my house. If you can't +keep decent and stay decent, don't intrude yourself here." + +"A rum-seller talk of decency!" retorted Morgan. "Pah! You were a +decent man once, and a good miller into the bargain. But that +time's past and gone. Decency died out when you exchanged the pick +and facing-hammer for the glass and muddler. Decency! Pah! How you +talk! As if it were any more decent to sell rum than to drink it." + +There was so much of biting contempt in the tones, as well as the +words of the half-intoxicated man, that Slade, who had himself +been drinking rather more freely than usual, was angered beyond +self-control. Catching up an empty glass from the counter, he +hurled it with all his strength at the head of Joe Morgan. The +missive just grazed one of his temples, and flew by on its +dangerous course. The quick sharp cry of a child startled the air, +followed by exclamations of alarm and horror from many voices. + +"It's Joe Morgan's child!" "He's killed her!" "Good heavens!" Such +were the exclamations that rang through the room. I was among the +first to reach the spot where a little girl, just gliding in +through the door, had been struck on the forehead by the glass, +which had cut a deep gash, and stunned her into insensibility. The +blood flowed instantly from the wound, and covered her face, which +presented a shocking appearance. As I lifted her from the floor, +upon which she had fallen, Morgan, into whose very soul the +piercing cry of his child had penetrated, stood by my side, and +grappled his arms around her insensible form, uttering as he did +so heart-touching moans and lamentations. + +"What's the matter? Oh, what's the matter?" It was a woman's +voice, speaking in frightened tones. + +"It's nothing! Just go out, will you, Ann?" I heard the landlord +say. + +But his wife--it was Mrs. Slade--having heard the shrieks of pain +and terror uttered by Morgan's child, had come running into the +bar-room--heeded not his words, but pressed forward into the +little group that stood around the bleeding girl. + +"Run for Doctor Green, Frank," she cried in an imperative voice, +the moment her eyes rested on the little one's bloody face. + +Frank came around from behind the bar, in obedience to the word; +but his father gave a partial countermand, and he stood still. +Upon observing which, his mother repeated the order, even more +emphatically. + +"Why don't you jump, you young rascal!" exclaimed Harvey Green. +"The child may be dead before the doctor can get here." + +Frank hesitated no longer, but disappeared instantly through the +door. + +"Poor, poor child!" almost sobbed Mrs. Slade, as she lifted the +insensible form from my arms. "How did it happen? Who struck her?" + +"Who? Curse him! Who but Simon Slade?" answered Joe Morgan, +through his clenched teeth. + +The look of anguish, mingled with bitter reproach, instantly +thrown upon the landlord by his wife, can hardly be forgotten by +any who saw it that night. + +"Oh, Simon! Simon! And has it come to this already?" What a world +of bitter memories, and sad forebodings of evil, did that little +sentence express. "To this already"--Ah! In the downward way, how +rapidly the steps do tread--how fast the progress! + +"Bring me a basin of water, and a towel, quickly!" she now +exclaimed. + +The water was brought, and in a little while the face of the child +lay pure and as white as snow against her bosom. The wound from +which the blood had flowed so freely was found on the upper part +of the forehead, a little to the side, and extending several +inches back, along the top of the head. As soon as the blood +stains were wiped away, and the effusion partially stopped, Mrs. +Slade carried the still insensible body into the next room, +whither the distressed, and now completely sobered father, +accompanied her. I went with them, but Slade remained behind. + +The arrival of the doctor was soon followed by the restoration of +life to the inanimate body. He happened to be at home, and came +instantly. He had just taken the last stitch in the wound, which +required to be drawn together, and was applying strips of adhesive +plaster, when the hurried entrance of some one caused me to look +up. What an apparition met my eyes! A woman stood in the door, +with a face in which maternal anxiety and terror blended +fearfully. Her countenance was like ashes--her eyes straining +wildly--her lips apart, while the panting breath almost hissed +through them. + +"Joe! Joe! What is it? Where is Mary? Is she dead?" were her eager +inquiries. + +"No, Fanny," answered Joe Morgan, starting up from where he was +actually kneeling by the side of the reviving little one, and +going quickly to his wife. "She's better now. It's a bad hurt, but +the doctor says it's nothing dangerous. Poor, dear child!" + +The pale face of the mother grew paler--she gasped--caught for +breath two or three times--a low shudder ran through her frame-- +and then she lay white and pulseless in the arms of her husband. +As the doctor applied restoratives, I had opportunity to note more +particularly the appearance of Mrs. Morgan. Her person was very +slender, and her face so attenuated that it might almost be called +shadowy. Her hair, which was a rich chestnut brown, with a slight +golden lustre, had fallen from her comb, and now lay all over her +neck and bosom in beautiful luxuriance. Back from her full temples +it had been smoothed away by the hand of Morgan, that all the +while moved over her brow and temples with a caressing motion that +I saw was unconscious, and which revealed the tenderness of +feeling with which, debased as he was, he regarded the wife of his +youth, and the long suffering companion of his later and evil +days. Her dress was plain and coarse, but clean and well fitting; +and about her whole person was an air of neatness and taste. She +could not now be called beautiful; yet in her marred features-- +marred by suffering and grief--were many lineaments of beauty; and +much that told of a true, pure woman's heart beating in her bosom. +Life came slowly back to the stilled heart, and it was nearly half +an hour before the circle of motion was fully restored. + +Then, the twain, with their child, tenderly borne in the arms of +her father, went sadly homeward, leaving more than one heart +heavier for their visit. + +I saw more of the landlord's wife on this occasion than before. +She had acted with a promptness and humanity that impressed me +very favorably. It was plain, from her exclamations on learning +that her husband's hand inflicted the blow that came so near +destroying the child's life, that her faith for good in the +tavern-keeping experiment had never been strong. I had already +inferred as much. Her face, the few times I had seen her, wore a +troubled look; and I could never forget its expression, nor her +anxious, warning voice, when she discovered Frank sipping the +dregs from a glass in the bar-room. + +It is rarely, I believe, that wives consent freely to the opening +of taverns by their husbands; and the determination on the part of +the latter to do so, is not unfrequently attended with a breach of +confidence and good feeling never afterward fully healed. Men look +close to the money result; women to the moral consequences. I +doubt if there be one dram-seller in ten, between whom and his +wife there exists a good understanding--to say nothing of genuine +affection. And, in the exceptional cases, it will generally be +found that the wife is as mercenary, or careless of the public +good, as her husband. I have known some women to set up grog- +shops; but they were women of bad principles and worse hearts. I +remember one case, where a woman, with a sober, church-going +husband, opened a dram-shop. The husband opposed, remonstrated, +begged, threatened--but all to no purpose. The wife, by working +for the clothing stores, had earned and saved about three hundred +dollars. The love of money, in the slow process of accumulation, +had been awakened; and, in ministering to the depraved appetites +of men who loved drink and neglected their families, she saw a +quicker mode of acquiring the gold she coveted. And so the dram- +shop was opened. And what was the result? The husband quit going +to church. He had no heart for that; for, even on the Sabbath day, +the fiery stream was stayed not in his house. Next he began to +tipple. Soon, alas! the subtle poison so pervaded his system that +morbid desire came; and then he moved along quick-footed in the +way of ruin. In less than three years, I think, from the time the +grog-shop was opened by his wife, he was in a drunkard's grave. A +year or two more, and the pit that was digged for others by the +hands of the wife, she fell into herself. After breathing an +atmosphere poisoned by the fumes of liquor, the love of tasting it +was gradually formed, and she, too, in the end, became a slave to +the Demon Drink. She died at last, poor as a beggar in the street. +Ah! this liquor-selling is the way to ruin; and they who open the +gates, as well as those who enter the downward path, alike go to +destruction. But this is digressing. + +After Joe Morgan and his wife left the "Sickle and Sheaf," with +that gentle child, who, as I afterward learned, had not, for a +year or more, laid her little head to sleep until her father +returned home and who, if he stayed out beyond a certain hour, +would go for him, and lead him back, a very angel of love and +patience--I re-entered the bar-room, to see how life was passing +there. Not one of all I had left in the room remained. The +incident which had occurred was of so painful a nature, that no +further unalloyed pleasure was to be had there during the evening, +and so each had retired. In his little kingdom the landlord sat +alone, his head resting on his hand, and his face shaded from the +light. The whole aspect of the man was that of one in self- +humiliation. As I entered he raised his head, and turned his face +toward me. Its expression was painful. + +"Rather an unfortunate affair," said he. "I'm angry with myself, +and sorry for the poor child. But she'd no business here. As for +Joe Morgan, it would take a saint to bear his tongue when once set +a-going by liquor. I wish he'd stay away from the house. Nobody +wants his company. Oh, dear!" + +The ejaculation, or rather groan, that closed the sentence showed +how little Slade was satisfied with himself, notwithstanding this +feeble attempt at self-justification. + +"His thirst for liquor draws him hither," I remarked. "The +attraction of your bar to his appetite is like that of the magnet +to the needle. He cannot stay away." + +"He MUST stay away!" exclaimed the landlord, with some vehemence +of tone, striking his fist upon the table by which he sat. "He +MUST stay away! There is scarcely an evening that he does not +ruffle my temper, and mar good feelings in all the company. Just +see what he provoked me to do this evening. I might have killed +the child. It makes my blood run cold to think of it! Yes, sir--he +must stay away. If no better can be done, I'll hire a man to stand +at the door and keep him out." + +"He never troubled you at the mill," said I. "No man was required +at the mill door?" + +"No!" And the landlord gave emphasis to the word by an oath, +ejaculated with a heartiness that almost startled me. I had not +heard him swear before. "No; the great trouble was to get him and +keep him there, the good-for-nothing, idle fellow!" + +"I am afraid," I ventured to suggest, "that things don't go on +quite so smoothly here as they did at the mill. Your customers are +of a different class." + +"I don't know about that; why not?" He did not just relish my +remark. + +"Between quiet, thrifty, substantial farmers, and drinking bar- +room loungers, are many degrees of comparison." + +"Excuse me, sir!" Simon Slade elevated his person. "The men who +visit my bar-room, as a general thing, are quite as respectable, +moral, and substantial as any who came to the mill--and I believe +more so. The first people in the place, sir, are to be found here. +Judge Lyman and Judge Hammond; Lawyer Wilks and Doctor Maynard; +Mr. Grand and Mr. Lee; and dozens of others--all our first people. +No, sir; you mustn't judge all by vagabonds like Joe Morgan." + +There was a testy spirit manifested that I did not care to +provoke. I could have met his assertion with facts and inferences +of a character to startle any one occupying his position, who was +in a calm, reflective state; but to argue with him then would have +been worse than idle; and so I let him talk on until the +excitement occasioned by my words died out for want of new fuel. + + + + + +NIGHT THE THIRD + +JOE MORGAN'S CHILD. + + +I don't see anything of your very particular friend, Joe Morgan, +this evening," said Harvey Green, leaning on the bar and speaking +to Slade. It was the night succeeding that on which the painful +and exciting scene with the child had occurred. + +"No," was answered--and to the word was added a profane +imprecation. "No; and if he'll just keep away from here, he may go +to--on a hard-trotting horse and a porcupine saddle as fast as he +pleases. He's tried my patience beyond endurance, and my mind is +made up that he gets no more drams at this bar. I've borne his +vile tongue and seen my company annoyed by him just as long as I +mean to stand it. Last night decided me. Suppose I'd killed that +child?" + +"You'd have had trouble then, and no mistake." + +"Wouldn't I? Blast her little picture! What business has she +creeping in here every night?" + +"She must have a nice kind of a mother," remarked Green, with a +cold sneer. + +"I don't know what she is now," said Slade, a slight touch of +feeling in his voice--"heart-broken, I suppose. I couldn't look at +her last night; it made me sick. But there was a time when Fanny +Morgan was the loveliest and best woman in Cedarville. I'll say +that for her. Oh, dear! What a life her miserable husband has +caused her to lead." + +"Better that he were dead and out of the way." + +"Better a thousand times," answered Slade. "If he'd only fall down +some night and break his neck, it would be a blessing to his +family." + +"And to you in particular," laughed Green. + +"You may be sure it wouldn't cost me a large sum for mourning," +was the unfeeling response. + +Let us leave the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf," and its cold- +hearted inmates, and look in upon the family of Joe Morgan, and +see how it is in the home of the poor inebriate. We will pass by a +quick transition. + +"Joe!" The thin white hand of Mrs. Morgan clasps the arm of her +husband, who has arisen up suddenly, and now stands by the partly +opened door. "Don't go out to-night, Joe. Please, don't go out." + +"Father!" A feeble voice calls from the corner of an old settee, +where little Mary lies with her head bandaged. + +"Well, I won't then!" is replied--not angrily, nor even fretfully +--but in a kind voice. + +"Come and sit by me, father." How tenderly, yet how full of +concern is that low, sweet voice. "Come, won't you?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"Now hold my hand, father." + +Joe takes the hand of little Mary, that instantly tightens upon +his. + +"You won't go away and leave me to-night, will you, father? Say +you won't." + +"How very hot your hand is, dear. Does your head ache?" + +"A little; but it will soon feel better." + +Up into the swollen and disfigured face of the fallen father, the +large, earnest blue eyes of the child are raised. She does not see +the marred lineaments; but only the beloved countenance of her +parent. + +"Dear father!" + +"What, love?" + +"I wish you'd promise me something." + +"What, dear?" + +"Will you promise?" + +"I can't say until I hear your request. If I can promise, I will." + +"Oh, you can promise--you can, father!" + +How the large blue eyes dance and sparkle! + +"What is it, love?" + +"That you will never go into Simon Slade's bar any more." + +The child raises herself, evidently with a painful effort; and +leans nearer to her father. + +Joe shakes his head, and poor Mary drops back upon her pillow with +a sigh. Her lids fall, and the long lashes lie strongly relieved +on her colorless cheeks. + +"I won't go there to-night, dear. So let your heart be at rest." + +Mary's lids unclose, and two round drops, released from their +clasp, glide slowly over her face. + +"Thank you, father--thank you. Mother will be so glad." + +The eyes closed again; and the father moved uneasily. His heart is +touched. There is a struggle within him. It is on his lips to say +that he will never drink at the "Sickle and Sheaf" again; but +resolution just lacks the force of utterance. + +"Father!" + +"Well, dear?" + +"I don't, think I'll be well enough to go out in two or three +days. You know the doctor said that I would have to keep very +still, for I had a great deal of fever." + +"Yes, poor child." + +"Now, won't you promise me one thing?" + +"What is it, dear?" + +"Not to go out in the evening until I get well." + +Joe Morgan hesitated. + +"Just promise me that, father. It won't be long; I shall be up +again in a little while." + +How well the father knows what is in the heart of his child. Her +fears are all for him. Who is to go up after her poor father, and +lead him home when the darkness of inebriety is on his spirit, and +external perception so dulled that not skill enough remains to +shun the harm that lies in his path? + +"Do promise just that, father, dear." + +He cannot resist the pleading voice and look. "I promise it, Mary; +so shut your eyes now and go to sleep. I'm afraid this fever will +increase." + +"Oh! I'm so glad--so glad!" + +Mary does not clasp her hands, nor show strong external signs of +pleasure; but how full of a pure, unselfish joy is that low- +murmured ejaculation, spoken in the depths of her spirit, as well +as syllabled by her tongue! + +Mrs. Morgan has been no unconcerned witness of all this; but +knowing the child's influence over her father, she has not +ventured a word. More was to be gained, she was sure, by silence +on her part; and so she kept silent. Now she comes nearer to them, +and says, as she lets a hand rest on the shoulder of her husband: + +"You feel better for that promise already; I know you do." + +He looks up to her, and smiles faintly. He does feel better, but +is hardly willing to acknowledge it. + +Soon after Mary is sleeping. It does not escape the observation of +Mrs. Morgan that her husband grows restless; for he gets up +suddenly, every now and then, and walks quickly across the room, +as if in search of something. Then sits down, listlessly--sighs-- +stretches himself, and says, "Oh dear!" What shall she do for him? +How is the want of his accustomed evening stimulus to be met? She +thinks, and questions, and grieves inwardly. Poor Joe Morgan! His +wife understands his case, and pities him from her heart. But what +can she do? Go out and get him something to drink? "Oh, no! no! +no! never!" She answered the thought audibly almost, in the +excitement of her feelings. An hour has passed--Joe's restlessness +has increased instead of diminishing. What is to be done? Now Mrs. +Morgan has left the room. She has resolved upon something, for the +case must be met. Ah! here she comes, after an absence of five +minutes, bearing in her hand a cup of strong coffee. + +"It was kind and thoughtful in you, Fanny," says Morgan, as with a +gratified look he takes the cup. But his hand trembles, and he +spills a portion of the contents as ho tries to raise it to his +lips. How dreadfully his nerves are shattered! Unnatural +stimulants have been applied so long, that all true vitality seems +lost. And now the hand of his wife is holding the cup to his lips, +and he drinks eagerly. + +"This is dreadful--dreadful! Where will it end? What is to be +done?" + +Fanny suppresses a sob, as she thus gives vent to her troubled +feelings. Twice, already, has her husband been seized with the +drunkard's madness; and, in the nervous prostration consequent +upon even a brief withdrawal of his usual strong stimulants, she +sees the fearful precursor of another attack of this dreadful and +dangerous malady. In the hope of supplying the needed tone she has +given him strong coffee; and this for the time, produces the +effect desired. The restlessness is allayed, and a quiet state of +body and mind succeeds. It needs but a suggestion to induce him to +retire for the night. After being a few minutes in bed, sleep +steals over him, and his heavy breathing tells that he is in the +world of dreams. + +And now there comes a tap at the door. + +"Come in," is answered. + +The latch is lifted, the door swings open, and a woman enters. + +"Mrs. Slade! "The name is uttered in a tone of surprise. + +"Fanny, how are you this evening?" Kindly, yet half sadly, the +words are said. + +"Tolerable, I thank you." + +The hands of the two women are clasped, and for a few moments they +gaze into each other's face. What a world of tender commiseration +is in that of Mrs. Slade! + +"How is little Mary to-night?" + +"Not so well, I'm afraid. She has a good deal of fever." + +"Indeed! Oh, I'm sorry! Poor child! what a dreadful thing it was! +Oh! Fanny! you don't know how it has troubled me. I've been +intending to come around all day to see how she was, but couldn't +get off until now." + +"It came near killing her," said Mrs. Morgan. + +"It's in God's mercy she escaped. The thought of it curdles the +very blood in my veins. Poor child! is this her on the settee?" + +"Yes." + +Mrs. Slade takes a chair, and sitting by the sleeping child, gazes +long upon her pale sweet face. Now the lips of Mary part--words +are murmured--what is she saying? + +"No, no, mother; I can't go to bed yet. Father isn't home. And +it's so dark. There's no one to lead him over the bridge. I'm not +afraid. Don't--don't cry so, mother--I'm not afraid! Nothing will +hurt me." + +The child's face flushes. She moans, and throws her arms about +uneasily. Hark again. + +"I wish Mr. Slade wouldn't look so cross at me. He never did when +I went to the mill. He doesn't take me on his knee now, and stroke +my hair. Oh, dear! I wish father wouldn't go there any more. +Don't, don't, Mr. Slade. Oh! oh!"--the ejaculation prolonged into +a frightened cry, "My head! my head!" + +A few choking sobs are followed by low moans; and then the child +breathes easily again. But the flush does not leave her cheek; and +when Mrs. Slade, from whose eyes the tears come forth drop by +drop, and roll down her face, touches it lightly, she finds it hot +with fever. + +"Has the doctor seen her to-day, Fanny?" + +"No, ma'am." + +"He should see her at once. I will go for him"; and Mrs. Slade +starts up and goes quickly from the room. In a little while she +returns with Doctor Green, who sits down and looks at the child +for some moments with a sober, thoughtful face. Then he lays his +fingers on her pulse and times its beat by his watch--shakes his +head, and looks graver still. + +"How long has she had fever?" he asks. + +"All day." + +"You should have sent for me earlier." + +"Oh, doctor! She is not dangerous, I hope?" Mrs. Morgan looks +frightened. + +"She's a sick child, madam." + +"You've promised, father."--The dreamer is speaking again.--"I'm +not well enough yet. Oh, don't go, father; don't! There! He's +gone! Well, well! I'll try and walk there--I can sit down and rest +by the way. Oh, dear! How tired I am! Father! Father!" + +The child starts up and looks about her wildly. + +"Oh, mother, is it you?" And she sinks back upon her pillow, +looking now inquiringly from face to face. + +"Father--where is father?" she asks. + +"Asleep, dear." + +"Oh! Is he? I'm glad." + +Her eyes close wearily. + +"Do you feel any pain, Mary?" inquired the doctor. + +"Yes, sir--in my head. It aches and beats so." + +The cry of "Father" had reached the ears of Morgan, who is +sleeping in the next room, and roused him into consciousness. He +knows the doctor's voice. Why is he here at this late hour? "Do +you feel any pain, Mary?" The question he hears distinctly, and +the faintly uttered reply also. He is sober enough to have all his +fears instantly excited. There is nothing in the world that he +loves as he loves that child. And so he gets up and dresses +himself as quickly as possible; the stimulus of anxiety giving +tension to his relaxed nerves. + +"Oh, father!" The quick ears of Mary detect his entrance first, +and a pleasant smile welcomes him. + +"Is she very sick, doctor?" he asks, in a voice full of anxiety. + +"She's a sick child, sir; you should have sent for me earlier." +The doctor speaks rather sternly, and with a purpose to rebuke. + +The reply stirs Morgan, and he seems to cower half timidly under +the words, as if they were blows. Mary has already grasped her +father's hand, and holds on to it tightly. + +After examining the case a little more closely, the doctor +prepares some medicine, and, promising to call early in the +morning, goes away. Mrs. Slade follows soon after; but, in parting +with Mrs. Morgan, leaves something in her hand, which, to the +surprise of the latter, proves to be a ten-dollar bill. The tears +start to her eyes; and she conceals the money in her bosom-- +murmuring a fervent "God bless her!" + +A simple act of restitution is this on the part of Mrs. Slade, +prompted as well by humanity as a sense of justice. With one hand +her husband has taken the bread from the family of his old friend, +and thus with the other she restores it. + +And now Morgan and his wife are alone with their sick child. +Higher the fever rises, and partial delirium seizes upon her over- +excited brain. She talks for a time almost incessantly. All her +trouble is about her father; and she is constantly referring to +his promise not to go out in the evening until she gets well. How +tenderly and touchingly she appeals to him; now looking up into +his face in partial recognition; and now calling anxiously after +him, as if he had left her and was going away. + +"You'll not forget your promise, will you, father?" she says, +speaking so calmly, that he thinks her mind has ceased to wander. + +"No, dear; I will not forget it," he answers, smoothing her hair +gently with his hand. + +"You'll not go out in the evening again, until I get well?" + +"No, dear." + +"Father!" + +"What, love?" + +"Stoop down closer; I don't want mother to hear; it will make her +feel so bad." + +The father bends his ear close to the lips of Mary. How he starts +and shudders! What has she said?--only these brief words: + +"I shall not get well, father; I'm going to die." + +The groans, impossible to repress, that issued through the lips of +Joe Morgan, startled the ears of his wife, and she came quickly to +the bedside. + +"What is it? What is the matter, Joe?" she inquired, with a look +of anxiety. + +"Hush, father. Don't tell her. I only said it to you." And Mary +put a finger on her lips, and looked mysterious. "There, mother-- +you go away; you've got trouble enough, any how. Don't tell her, +father." + +But the words, which came to him like a prophecy, awoke such pangs +of fear and remorse in the heart of Joe Morgan, that it was +impossible for him to repress the signs of pain. For some moments +he gazed at his wife--then stooping forward, suddenly, he buried +his face in the bed-clothes, and sobbed bitterly. + +A suggestion of the truth now flashed through the mind of Mrs. +Morgan, sending a thrill of pain along every nerve. Ere she had +time to recover herself, the low, sweet voice of Mary broke upon +the hushed air of the room, and she sung: + + "Jesus can make a dying bed + Feel soft as downy pillows are, + While on His breast I lean my head, + And breathe my life out, sweetly, there." + +It was impossible for Mrs. Morgan longer to repress her feelings. +As the softly breathed strain died away, her sobs broke forth, and +for a time she wept violently. + +"There," said the child,--"I didn't mean to tell you. I only told +father, because--because he promised not to go to the tavern any +more until I got well; and I'm not going to get well. So, you see, +mother, he'll never go again--never--never--never. Oh, dear! how +my head pains. Mr. Slade threw it so hard. But it didn't strike +father; and I'm so glad. How it would have hurt him--poor father! +But he'll never go there any more; and that will be so good, won't +it, mother?" + +A light broke over her face; but seeing that her mother still +wept, she said: + +"Don't cry. Maybe I'll be better." + +And then her eyes closed heavily, and she slept again. + +"Joe," said Mrs. Morgan, after she had in a measure recovered +herself--she spoke firmly--"Joe, did you hear what she said?" + +Morgan only answered with a groan. + +"Her mind wanders; and yet she may have spoken only the truth." + +He groaned again. + +"If she should die, Joe--" + +"Don't; oh, don't talk so, Fanny. She's not going to die. It's +only because she's a little light-headed." + +"Why is she light-headed, Joe?" + +"It's the fever--only the fever, Fanny." + +"It was the blow, and the wound on her head, that caused the +fever. How do we know the extent of injury on the brain? Doctor +Green looked very serious. I'm afraid, husband, that the worst is +before us. I've borne and suffered a great deal--only God knows +how much--I pray that I may have strength to bear this trial also. +Dear child! She is better fitted for heaven than for earth, and it +may be that God is about to take her to Himself. She's been a +great comfort to me--and to you, Joe, more like a guardian angel +than a child." + +Mrs. Morgan had tried to speak very firmly; but as sentence +followed sentence, her voice lost more and more of its even tone. +With the closing words all self-control vanished; and she wept +bitterly. What could her feeble, erring husband do, but weep with +her? + +"Joe,"--Mrs. Morgan aroused herself as quickly as possible, for +she had that to say which she feared she might not have the heart +to utter--"Joe, if Mary dies, you cannot forget the cause of her +death." + +"Oh, Fanny! Fanny!" + +"Nor the hand that struck the cruel blow." "Forget it? Never! And +if I forgive Simon Slade--" + +"Nor the place where the blow was dealt," said Mrs. Morgan, +interrupting him. + +"Poor--poor child!" moaned the conscience-stricken man. + +"Nor your promise, Joe--nor your promise given to our dying +child." + +"Father! Father! Dear father!" Mary's eyes suddenly unclosed, as +she called her father eagerly. + +"Here I am, love. What is it?" And Joe Morgan pressed up to the +bedside. + +"Oh! it's you, father! I dreamed that you had gone out, and--and-- +but you won't will you, dear father?" + +"No, love--no." + +"Never any more until I get well?" + +"I must go out to work, you know, Mary." + +"At night, father. That's what I mean. You won't, will you?" + +"No, dear, no." + +A soft smile trembled over the child's face; her eyelids drooped +wearily, and she fell off into slumber again. She seemed not so +restless as before--did not moan, nor throw herself about in her +sleep. + +"She's better, I think," said Morgan, as he bent over her, and +listened to her softer breathing. + +"It seems so," replied his wife. "And now, Joe, you must go to bed +again. I will lie down here with Mary, and be ready to do any +thing for her that she may want." + +"I don't feel sleepy. I'm sure I couldn't close my eyes. So let me +sit up with Mary. You are tired and worn out." + +Mrs. Morgan looked earnestly into her husband's face. His eyes +were unusually bright, and she noticed a slight nervous +restlessness about his lips. She laid one of her hands on his, and +perceived a slight tremor. + +"You must go to bed," she spoke firmly. "I shall not let you sit +up with Mary. So go at once." And she drew him almost by force +into the next room. + +"It's no use, Fanny. There's not a wink of sleep in my eyes. I +shall lie awake anyhow. So do you get a little rest." Even as he +spoke there were nervous twitchings of his arms and shoulders; and +as he entered the chamber, impelled by his wife, he stopped +suddenly and said: + +"What is that?" + +"Where?" asked Mrs. Morgan. + +"Oh, it's nothing--I see. Only one of my old boots. I thought it a +great black cat." + +Oh! what a shudder of despair seized upon the heart of the +wretched wife. Too well she knew the fearful signs of that +terrible madness from which, twice before, he had suffered. She +could have looked on calmly and seen him die--but, "Not this--not +this! Oh, Father in heaven!" she murmured, with such a heart- +sinking that it seemed as if life itself would go out. + +"Get into bed, Joe; get into bed as quickly as possible." + +Morgan was now passive in the hands of his wife, and obeyed her +almost like a child. He had turned down the bed-clothes, and was +about getting in, when he started back, with a look of disgust and +alarm. + +"There's nothing there, Joe. What's the matter with you?" + +"I'm sure I don't know, Fanny," and his teeth rattled together, as +he spoke. "I thought there was a great toad under the clothes." + +"How foolish you are!"--yet tears were blinding her eyes as she +said this. "It's only fancy. Get into bed and shut your eyes. I'll +make you another cup of strong coffee. Perhaps that will do you +good. You're only a little nervous. Mary's sickness has disturbed +you." + +Joe looked cautiously under the bedclothes, as he lifted them up +still farther, and peered beneath. + +"You know there's nothing in your bed, see!" + +And Mrs. Morgan threw with a single jerk all the clothes upon the +floor. + +"There now! look for yourself. Now shut your eyes," she continued +as she spread the sheet and quilt over him after his head was on +the pillow. "Shut them tight and keep them so until I boil the +water and make a cup of coffee You know as well as I do that it's +nothing but fancy." + +Morgan closed his eyes firmly, and drew the clothes over his head. + +"I'll be back in a few minutes" said his wife going hurriedly to +the door. Ere leaving, however she partly turned her head and +glanced back. There sat her husband upright and staring fearfully. + +"Don't Fanny! don't go away!" he cried in a frightened voice. + +Joe! Joe! why will you be so foolish? It's nothing but +imagination. Now do lie down and shut your eyes. Keep them shut. +There now. + +And she laid a hand over his eyes and pressed it down tightly. + +"I wish Doctor Green was here" said the wretched man. "He could +give me something" + +"Shall I go for him?" + +"Go Fanny! Run over right quickly" + +"But you won't keep in bed" + +"Yes I will. There, now" And he drew the clothes over his face +"There I'll lie just so until you come back. Now run Fanny, and +don't stay a minute" + +Scarcely stopping to think Mrs. Morgan went hurriedly from the +room and drawing an old shawl over her head started with swift +feet for the residence of Doctor Green which was not very far +away. The kind doctor understood at a word the sad condition of +her husband and promised to attend him immediately. Back she flew +at even a wilder speed her heart throbbing with vague +apprehension. Oh! what a fearful cry was that which smote her ears +as she came within a few paces of home. She knew the voice, +changed as it was by terror, and a shudder almost palsied her +heart. At a single bound she cleared the intervening space and in +the next moment was in the room where she had left her husband. +But he was not there! With suspended breath, and feet that +scarcely obeyed her will, she passed into the chamber where little +Mary lay. Not here! + +"Joe! husband!" she called in a faint voice. + +"Here he is, mother." And now she saw that Joe had crept into the +bed behind the sick child and that her arm was drawn tightly +around his neck. + +"You won't let them hurt me, will you dear?" said the pool +frightened victim of a terrible mania. + +"Nothing will hurt you father," answered Mary, in a voice that +showed her mind to be clear, and fully conscious of her parent's +true condition. + +She had seen him thus before. Ah! what an experience for a child! + +"You're an angel--my good angel, Mary," he murmured, in a voice +yet trembling with fear "Pray for me, my child. Oh ask your father +in heaven to save me from these dreadful creatures. There now!" he +cried, rising up suddenly and looking toward the door. "Keep out! +Go away! You can't come in here. This is Mary's room, and she's an +angel. Ah, ha! I knew you wouldn't dare come in here-- + + "A single saint can put to flight + Ten thousand blustering sons of night" + +He added in a half wandering way yet with an assured voice, as he +laid himself back upon his pillow and drew the clothes over his +head. + +"Poor father!" sighed the child as she gathered both arms about +his neck! "I will be your good angel. Nothing shall hurt you +here." + +I knew I would be safe where you were," he whispered--"I knew it, +and so I came. Kiss me, love. + +How pure and fervent was the kiss laid instantly upon his lips! +There was a power in it to remand the evil influences that were +surrounding and pressing in upon him like a flood. All was quiet +now, and Mrs. Morgan neither by word nor movement disturbed the +solemn stillness that reigned in the apartment. In a few minutes +the deepened breathing of her husband gave a blessed intimation +that he was sinking into sleep. Oh, sleep! sleep! How tearfully, +in times past, had she prayed that he might sleep; and yet no +sleep came for hours and days--even though powerful opiates were +given--until exhausted nature yielded, and then sleep had a long, +long struggle with death. Now the sphere of his loving, innocent +child seemed to have overcome, at least for the time, the evil +influences that were getting possession even of his external +senses. Yes, yes, he was sleeping! Oh, what a fervent "Thank God!" +went up from the heart of his stricken wife. + +Soon the quick ears of Mrs. Morgan detected the doctor's +approaching footsteps, and she met him at the door with a finger +on her lips. A whispered word or two explained the better aspect +of affairs, and the doctor said, encouragingly: + +"That's good, if he will only sleep on." + +"Do you think he will, doctor?" was asked anxiously. + +"He may. But we cannot hope too strongly. It would be something +very unusual." + +Both passed noiselessly into the chamber. Morgan still slept, and +by his deep breathing it was plain that he slept soundly. And +Mary, too, was sleeping, her face now laid against her father's, +and her arms still about his neck. The sight touched even the +doctor's heart and moistened his eyes. For nearly half an hour he +remained; and then, as Morgan continued to sleep, he left medicine +to be given immediately, and went home, promising to call early in +the morning. + +It is now past midnight, and we leave the lonely, sad-hearted +watcher with her sick ones. + +I was sitting, with a newspaper in my hand--not reading, but +musing--at the "Sickle and Sheaf," late in the evening marked by +the incidents just detailed. + +"Where's your mother?" I heard Simon Slade inquire. He had just +entered an adjoining room. + +"She's gone out somewhere," was answered by his daughter Flora. + +"Where?" + +"I don't know." + +"How long has she been away?" + +"More than an hour." + +"And you don't know where she went to?" + +"No, sir." + +Nothing more was said, but I heard the landlord's heavy feet +moving backward and forward across the room for some minutes. + +"Why, Ann! where have you been?" The door of the next room had +opened and shut. + +"Where I wish you had been with me," was answered in a very firm +voice. + +"Where?" + +"To Joe Morgan's." + +"Humph!" Only this ejaculation met my ears. But something was said +in a low voice, to which Mrs. Slade replied with some warmth: + +"If you don't have his child's blood clinging for life to your +garments, you may be thankful." + +"What do you mean?" he asked, quickly. + +"All that my words indicate. Little Mary is very ill!" + +"Well, what of it?" + +"Much. The doctor thinks her in great danger. The cut on her head +has thrown her into a violent fever, and she is delirious. Oh, +Simon! if you had heard what I heard to-night." + +"What?" was asked in a growling tone. + +"She is out of her mind, as I said, and talks a great deal. She +talked about you." + +"Of me! Well, what had she to say?" + +"She said--so pitifully--'I wish Mr. Slade wouldn't look so cross +at me. He never did when I went to the mill. He doesn't take me on +his knee now, and stroke my hair. Oh, dear!' Poor child! She was +always so good." + +"Did she say that?" Slade seemed touched. + +"Yes, and a great deal more. Once she screamed out, 'Oh, don't! +don't, Mr. Slade! don't! My head! my head!' It made my very heart +ache. I can never forget her pale, frightened face, nor her cry of +fear. Simon--if she should die!" + +There was a long silence. + +"If we were only back to the mill." It was Mrs. Slade's voice. + +"There, now! I don't want to hear that again," quickly spoke out +the landlord. "I made a slave of myself long enough." + +"You had at least a clear conscience," his wife answered. + +"Do hush, will you?" Slade was now angry. "One would think, by the +way you talk sometimes, that I had broken every command of the +Decalogue." + +"You will break hearts as well as commandments, if you keep on for +a few years as you have begun--and ruin souls as well as +fortunes." + +Mrs. Slade spoke calmly, but with marked severity of tone. Her +husband answered with an oath, and then left the room, banging the +door after him. In the hush that followed I retired to my chamber, +and lay for an hour awake, pondering on all I had just heard. What +a revelation was in that brief passage of words between the +landlord and his excited companion! + + + + + +NIGHT THE FOURTH. + +DEATH OF LITTLE MARY MORGAN. + + +"Where are you going, Ann? "It was the landlord's voice. Time--a +little after dark. + +"I'm going over to see Mrs. Morgan," answered his wife. + +"What for?" + +"I wish to go," was replied. + +"Well, I don't wish you to go," said Slade, in a very decided way. + +"I can't help that, Simon. Mary, I'm told, is dying, and Joe is in +a dreadful way. I'm needed there--and so are you, as to that +matter. There was a time when, if word came to you that Morgan or +his family were in trouble--" + +"Do hush, will you!" exclaimed the landlord, angrily. "I won't be +preached to in this way any longer." + +"Oh, well; then don't interfere with my movements, Simon; that's +all I have to say. I'm needed over there, as I just said, and I'm +going." + +There were considerable odds against him, and Slade, perceiving +this, turned off, muttering something that his wife did not hear, +and she went on her way. A hurried walk brought her to the +wretched home of the poor drunkard, whose wife met her at the +door. + +"How is Mary?" was the visitor's earnest inquiry. + +Mrs. Morgan tried to answer the question; but, though her lips +moved, no sounds issued therefrom. + +Mrs. Slade pressed her hands tightly in both of hers; and then +passed in with her to the room where the child lay. A stance +sufficed to tell Mrs. Slade that death had already laid his icy +fingers upon her brow. + +"How are you, dear?" she asked, as she bent over and kissed her. + +"Better, I thank you!" replied Mary, in a low whisper. + +Then she fixed her eyes upon her mother's face with a look of +inquiry. + +"What is it, love?" + +"Hasn't father waked up yet?" + +"No, dear." + +"Won't he wake up soon?" + +"He's sleeping very soundly. I wouldn't like to disturb him." + +"Oh, no; don't disturb him. I thought, maybe, he was awake." + +And the child's lids drooped languidly, until the long lashes lay +close against her cheeks. + +There was silence for a little while, and then Mrs. Morgan said in +a half-whisper to Mrs. Slade: + +"Oh, we've had such a dreadful time with poor Joe. He got in that +terrible way again last night. I had to go for Doctor Green and +leave him all alone. When I came back, he was in bed with Mary; +and she, dear child, had her arms around his neck, and was trying +to comfort him; and would you believe it, he went off to sleep, +and slept in that way for a long time. The doctor came, and when +he saw how it was, left some medicine for him, and went away. I +was in such hopes that he would sleep it all off. But about twelve +o'clock he started up, and sprung out of bed with an awful scream. +Poor Mary! she too had fallen asleep. The cry wakened her, and +frightened her dreadfully. She's been getting worse ever since, +Mrs. Slade. + +"Just as he was rushing out of the room, I caught him by the arm, +and it took all my strength to hold him. + +"'Father! father!' Mary called after him as soon as she was awake +enough to understand what was the matter--'Don't go out, father; +there's nothing here.' + +"He looked back toward the bed, in a frightful way. + +"'See, father!' and the dear child turned down the quilt and +sheet, in order to convince him that nothing was in the bed. 'I'm +here,' she added. 'I'm not afraid. Come, father. If there's +nothing here to hurt me, there's nothing to hurt you.' + +"There was something so assuring in this, that Joe took a step or +two toward the bed, looking sharply into it as he did so. From the +bed his eyes wandered up to the ceiling, and the old look of +terror came into his face. + +"'There it is now! Jump out of bed, quick! Jump out, Mary!' he +cried. 'See! it's right over your head.' + +"Mary showed no sign of fear as she lifted her eyes to the +ceiling, and gazed steadily for a few moments in that direction. + +"'There's nothing there, father,' said she, in a confident voice. + +"'It's gone now,' Joe spoke in a tone of relief. 'Your angel-look +drove it away. Aha! There it is now, creeping along the floor!' he +suddenly exclaimed, fearfully; starting away from where he stood. + +"'Here, father'! Here!' Mary called to him, and he sprung into the +bed again; while she gathered her arms about him tightly, saying +in a low, soothing voice, 'Nothing can harm you here, father.' + +"Without a moment's delay, I gave him the morphine left by Doctor +Green. He took it eagerly, and then crouched down in the bed, +while Mary continued to assure him of perfect safety. So long as +he was clearly conscious as to where he was, he remained perfectly +still. But, as soon as partial slumber came, he would scream out, +and spring from the bed in terror and then it would take us +several minutes to quiet him again. Six times during the night did +this occur; and as often, Mary coaxed him back. The morphine I +continued to give as the doctor had directed. By morning, the +opiates had done their work, and he was sleeping soundly. When the +doctor came, we removed him to his own bed. He is still asleep; +and I begin to feel uneasy, lest he should never awake again. I +have heard of this happening." + +"See if father isn't awake," said Mary, raising her head from the +pillow. She had not heard what passed between her mother and Mrs. +Slade, for the conversation was carried on in low voices. + +Mrs. Morgan stepped to the door, and looked into the room where +her husband lay. + +"He is still asleep, dear," she remarked, coming back to the bed. + +"Oh! I wish he was awake. I want to see him so much. Won't you +call him, mother?" + +"I have called him a good many times. But you know the doctor gave +him opium. He can't wake up yet." + +"He's been sleeping a very long time; don't you think so, mother?" + +"Yes, dear, it does seem a long time. But it is best for him. +He'll be better when he wakes." + +Mary closed her eyes, wearily. How deathly white was her face--how +sunken her eyes--how sharply contracted her features! + +"I've given her up, Mrs. Slade," said Mrs. Morgan, in a low, +rough, choking whisper, as she leaned nearer to her friend. "I've +given her up! The worst is over; but, oh! it seemed as though my +heart would break in the struggle. Dear child! In all the darkness +of my way, she has helped and comforted me. Without her, it would +have been the blackness of darkness." + +"Father! father!" The voice of Mary broke out with a startling +quickness. + +Mrs. Morgan turned to the bed, and laying her hand on Mary's arm +said: + +"He's still sound asleep, dear." + +"No, he isn't, mother. I heard him move. Won't you go in and see +if he is awake?" + +In order to satisfy the child, her mother left the room. To her +surprise, she met the eyes of her husband as she entered the +chamber where he lay. He looked at her calmly. + +"What does Mary want with me?" he asked. + +"She wishes to see you. She's called you so many times. Shall I +bring her in here?" + +"No. I'll get up and dress myself." + +"I wouldn't do that. You've been sick." + +"Father! father!" The clear, earnest voice of Mary was heard +calling. + +"I'm coming, dear," answered Morgan. + +"Come quick, father, won't you?" + +"Yes, love." And Morgan got up and dressed himself--but with +unsteady hands, and every sign of nervous prostration. In a little +while, with the assistance of his wife, he was ready, and +supported by her, came tottering into the room where Mary was +lying. + +"Oh, father!"--What a light broke over her countenance.--"I've +been waiting for you so long. I thought you were never going to +wake up. Kiss me, father." + +"What can I do for you, Mary?" asked Morgan, tenderly, as he laid +his face down upon the pillow beside her. + +"Nothing, father. I don't wish for anything. I only wanted to see +you." + +"I'm here now, love." + +"Dear father!" How earnestly, yet tenderly she spoke, laying her +small hand upon his face. "You've always been good to me, father." + +"Oh, no. I've never been good to anybody," sobbed the weak, +broken-spirited man, as he raised himself from the pillow. + +How deeply touched was Mrs. Slade, as she sat, the silent witness +of this scene! + +"You haven't been good to yourself, father--but you've always been +good to us." + +"Don't, Mary! don't say anything about that," interrupted Morgan. +"Say that I've been very bad--very wicked. Oh, Mary, dear! I only +wish that I was as good as you are; I'd like to die, then, and go +right away from this evil world. I wish there was no liquor to +drink--no taverns--no bar-rooms. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I wish I was +dead." + +And the weak, trembling, half-palsied man laid his face again upon +the pillow beside his child, and sobbed aloud. + +What an oppressive silence reigned for a time through the room! + +"Father." The stillness was broken by Mary. Her voice was clear +and even. "Father, I want to tell you something." + +"What is it, Mary?" + +"There'll be nobody to go for you, father." The child's lips now +quivered, and tears filled into her eyes. + +"Don't talk about that, Mary. I'm not going out in the evening any +more until you get well. Don't you remember I promised?" + +"But, father"--She hesitated. + +"What, dear?" + +"I'm going away to leave you and mother." + +"Oh, no--no--no, Mary! Don't say that."--The poor man's voice was +broken.--"Don't say that! We can't let you go, dear." + +"God has called me." The child's voice had a solemn tone, and her +eyes turned reverently upward. + +"I wish He would call me! Oh, I wish He would call me!" groaned +Morgan, hiding his face in his hands. "What shall I do when you +are gone? Oh, dear! Oh. dear!" + +"Father!" Mary spoke calmly again. "You are not ready to go yet. +God will let you live here longer, that you may get ready." + +"How can I get ready without you to help me, Mary? My angel +child!" + +"Haven't I tried to help you, father, oh, so many times?" said +Mary. + +"Yes--yes--you've always tried." + +"But it wasn't any use. You would go out--you would go to the +tavern. It seemed most as if you couldn't help it." + +Morgan groaned in spirit. + +"Maybe I can help you better, father, after I die. I love you so +much, that I am sure God will let me come to you, and stay with +you always, and be your angel. Don't you think he will, mother?" + +But Mrs. Morgan's heart was too full. She did not even try to +answer, but sat, with streaming eyes, gazing upon her child's +face. + +"Father. I dreamed something about you, while I slept to-day." +Mary again turned to her father. + +"What was it, dear?" + +"I thought it was night, and that I was still sick. You promised +not to go out again until I was well. But you did go out; and I +thought you went over to Mr. Slade's tavern. When I knew this, I +felt as strong as when I was well, and I got up and dressed +myself, and started out after you. But I hadn't gone far, before I +met Mr. Slade's great bull-dog, Nero, and he growled at me so +dreadfully that I was frightened and ran back home. Then I started +again, and went away round by Mr. Mason's. But there was Nero in +the road, and this time he caught my dress in his mouth and tore a +great piece out of the skirt. I ran back again, and he chased me +all the way home. Just as I got to the door. I looked around, and +there was Mr. Slade, setting Nero on me. As soon as I saw Mr. +Slade, though he looked at me very wicked, I lost all my fear, and +turning around, I walked past Nero, who showed his teeth, and +growled as fiercely as ever, but didn't touch me. Then Mr. Slade +tried to stop me. But I didn't mind him, and kept right on, until +I came to the tavern, and there you stood in the door. And you +were dressed so nice. You had on a new hat and a new coat; and +your boots were new, and polished just like Judge Hammond's. I +said: 'Oh father! is this you?' And then you took me up in your +arms and kissed me, and said: 'Yes, Mary, I am your real father. +Not old Joe Morgan--but Mr. Morgan now.' It seemed all so strange, +that I looked into the bar-room to see who was there. But it +wasn't a bar-room any longer; but a store full of goods. The sign +of the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was taken down; and over the door I now +read your name, father. Oh! I was so glad, that I awoke--and then +I cried all to myself, for it was only a dream." + +The last words were said very mournfully, and with a drooping of +Mary's lids, until the tear-gemmed lashes lay close upon her +cheeks. Another period of deep silence followed--for the oppressed +listeners gave no utterance to what was in their hearts. Feeling +was too strong for speech. Nearly five minutes glided away, and +then Mary whispered the name of her father, but without opening +her eyes. + +Morgan answered, and bent down his ear. + +"You will only have mother left," she said--"only mother. And she +cries so much when you are away." + +"I won't leave her, Mary, only when I go to work," said Morgan, +whispering back to the child. "And I'll never go out at night any +more." + +"Yes; you promised me that." + +"And I'll promise more." + +"What, father?" + +"Never to go into a tavern again." + +"Never!" + +"No, never. And I'll promise still more." + +"Father?" + +"Never to drink a drop of liquor as long as I live." + +"Oh, father! dear, dear father!" And with a cry of joy Mary +started up and flung herself upon his breast. Morgan drew his arms +tightly around her, and sat for a long time, with his lips pressed +to her cheek--while she lay against his bosom as still as death. +As death? Yes: for when the father unclasped his arms, the spirit +of his child was with the angels of the resurrection! + +It was my fourth evening in the bar-room of the 'Sickle and +Sheaf'. The company was not large, nor in very gay spirits. All +had heard of little Mary's illness; which followed so quickly on +the blow from the tumbler, that none hesitated about connecting +the one with the other. So regular had been the child's visits, +and so gently excited, yet powerful her influence over her father, +that most of the frequenters at the 'Sickle and Sheaf' had felt +for her a more than common interest; which the cruel treatment she +received, and the subsequent illness, materially heightened. + +"Joe Morgan hasn't turned up this evening," remarked some one. + +"And isn't likely to for a while" was answered. + +"Why not?" inquired the first speaker. + +"They say the man with the poker is after him." + +"Oh, dear that's dreadful. Its the second or third chase, isn't +it?" + +"Yes." + +"He'll be likely to catch him this time." + +"I shouldn't wonder." + +"Poor devil! It won't be much matter. His family will be a great +deal better without him." + +"It will be a blessing to them if he dies." + +"Miserable, drunken wretch!" muttered Harvey Green who was +present. "He's only in the way of everybody. The sooner he's off, +the better." + +The landlord said nothing. He stood leaning across the bar, +looking more sober than usual. + +"That was rather an unlucky affair of yours Simon. They say the +child is going to die." + +"Who says so?" Slade started, scowled and threw a quick glance +upon the speaker. + +"Doctor Green." + +"Nonsense! Doctor Green never said any such thing." + +"Yes, he did though." + +"Who heard him?" + +"I did." + +"You did?" + +"Yes." + +"He wasn't in earnest?" A slight paleness overspread the +countenance of the landlord. "He was, though. They had an awful +time there last night." + +"Where?" + +"At Joe Morgan's. Joe has the mania, and Mrs. Morgan was alone +with him and her sick girl all night." + +"He deserves to have it; that's all I've got to say." Slade tried +to speak with a kind of rough indifference. + +"That's pretty hard talk," said one of the company. + +"I don't care if it is. It's the truth. What else could he +expect?" + +"A man like Joe is to be pitied," remarked the other. + +"I pity his family," said Slade. + +"Especially little Mary." The words were uttered tauntingly, and +produced murmurs of satisfaction throughout the room. + +Slade started back from where he stood, in an impatient manner, +saying something that I did not hear. + +"Look here, Simon, I heard some strong suggestions over at Lawyer +Phillips' office to-day." + +Slade turned his eyes upon the speaker. + +"If that child should die, you'll probably have to stand a trial +for man-slaughter." + +"No--girl-slaughter," said Harvey Green, with a cold, inhuman +chuckle. + +"But I'm in earnest." said the other. "Mr. Phillips said that a +case could be made out of it." + +"It was only an accident, and all the lawyers in Christendom can't +make anything more of it," remarked Green, taking the side of the +landlord, and speaking with more gravity than before. + +"Hardly an accident," was replied. + +"He didn't throw at the girl." + +"No matter. He threw a heavy tumbler at her father's head. The +intention was to do an injury; and the law will not stop to make +any nice discriminations in regard to the individual upon whom the +injury was wrought. Moreover, who is prepared to say that he +didn't aim at the girl?" + +"Any man who intimates such a thing is a cursed liar!" exclaimed +the landlord, half maddened by the suggestion. + +"I won't throw a tumbler at your head," coolly remarked the +individual whose plain speaking had so irritated Simon Slade, +"Throwing tumblers I never thought a very creditable kind of +argument--though with some men, when cornered, it is a favorite +mode of settling a question. Now, as for our friend the landlord, +I am sorry to say that his new business doesn't seem to have +improved his manners or his temper a great deal. As a miller, he +was one of the best-tempered men in the world, and wouldn't have +harmed a kitten. But, now, he can swear, and bluster, and throw +glasses at people's heads, and all that sort of thing, with the +best of brawling rowdies. I'm afraid he's taking lessons in a bad +school--I am." + +"I don't think you have any right to insult a man in his own +house," answered Slade, in a voice dropped to a lower key than the +one in which he had before spoken. + +"I had no intention to insult you," said the other. "I was only +speaking supposititiously, and in view of your position on a trial +for manslaughter, when I suggested that no one could prove, or say +that you didn't mean to strike little Mary, when you threw the +tumbler." + +"Well, I didn't mean to strike her: and I don't believe there is a +man in this bar-room who thinks that I did--not one." + +"I'm sure I do not," said the individual with whom he was in +controversy. "Nor I"--"Nor I" went round the room. + +"But, as I wished to set forth," was continued, "the case will not +be so plain a one when it finds its way into court, and twelve +men, to each of whom you may be a stranger, come to sit in +judgment upon the act. The slightest twist in the evidence, the +prepossessions of a witness, or the bad tact of the prosecution, +may cause things to look so dark on your side as to leave you but +little chance. For my part, if the child should die, I think your +chances for a term in the state's prison are as eight to ten; and +I should call that pretty close cutting." + +I looked attentively at the man who said this, all the while he +was speaking, but could not clearly make out whether he were +altogether in earnest, or merely trying to worry the mind of +Slade. That he was successful in accomplishing the latter, was +very plain; for the landlord's countenance steadily lost color, +and became overcast with alarm. With that evil delight which some +men take in giving pain, others, seeing Slade's anxious looks, +joined in the persecution, and soon made the landlord's case look +black enough; and the landlord himself almost as frightened as a +criminal just under arrest. + +"It's bad business, and no mistake," said one. + +"Yes, bad enough. I wouldn't be in his shoes for his coat," +remarked another. + +"For his coat? No, not for his whole wardrobe," said a third. + +"Nor for the 'Sickle and Sheaf thrown into the bargain," added a +fourth. + +"It will be a clear case of manslaughter, and no mistake. What is +the penalty?" + +"From two to ten years in the penitentiary," was readily answered. + +"They'll give him five. I reckon." + +"No--not more than two. It will be hard to prove malicious +intention." + +"I don't know that. I've heard him curse the girl and threaten her +many a time. Haven't you?" + +"Yes"--"Yes"--"I have, often," ran round the bar-room. + +"You'd better hang me at once," said Slade, affecting to laugh. + +At this moment, the door behind Slade opened, and I saw his wife's +anxious face thrust in for a moment. She said something to her +husband, who uttered a low ejaculation of surprise, and went out +quickly. + +"What's the matter now?" asked one of another. + +"I shouldn't wonder if little Mary Morgan was dead," was +suggested. + +"I heard her say dead," remarked one who was standing near the +bar. + +"What's the matter, Frank?" inquired several voices, as the +landlord's son came in through the door out of which his father +had passed. + +"Mary Morgan is dead," answered the boy. + +"Poor child! Poor child!" sighed one, in genuine regret at the not +unlooked for intelligence. "Her trouble is over." + +And there was not one present, but Harvey Green, who did not utter +some word of pity or sympathy. He shrugged his shoulders, and +looked as much of contempt and indifference as he thought it +prudent to express. + +"See here, boys," spoke out one of the company, "can't we do +something for poor Mrs. Morgan? Can't we make up a purse for her?" + +"That's it," was quickly responded; "I'm good for three dollars; +and there they are," drawing out the money and laying it upon the +counter. + +"And here are five to go with them," said I, quickly stepping +forward, and placing a five-dollar bill along side of the first +contribution. + +"Here are five more," added a third individual. And so it went on, +until thirty dollars were paid down for the benefit of Mrs. +Morgan. + +"Into whose hands shall this be placed?" was next asked. + +"Let me suggest Mrs. Slade," said I. "To my certain knowledge, she +has been with Mrs. Morgan to-night. I know that she feels in her a +true woman's interest." + +"Just the person," was answered. "Frank, tell your mother we would +like to see her. Ask her to step into the sitting-room." + +In a few moments the boy came back, and said that his mother would +see us in the next room, into which we all passed. Mrs. Slade +stood near the table, on which burned a lamp. I noticed that her +eyes were red, and that there was on her countenance a troubled +and sorrowful expression. + +"We have just heard," said one of the company, "that little Mary +Morgan is dead." + +"Yes--it is too true," answered Mrs. Slade, mournfully. "I have +just left there. Poor child! she has passed from an evil world." + +"Evil it has indeed been to her," was remarked. + +"You may well say that. And yet, amid all the evil, she been an +angel of mercy. Her last thought in dying was of her miserable +father. For him, at any time, she would have laid down her life +willingly." + +"Her mother must be nearly broken-hearted. Mary is the last of her +children." + +"And yet the child's death may prove a blessing to her." + +"How so?" + +"Her father promised Mary, just at the last moment--solemnly +promised her--that, henceforth, he would never taste liquor. That +was all her trouble. That was the thorn in her dying pillow. But +he plucked it out, and she went to sleep, lying against his heart. +Oh, gentlemen! it was the most touching sight I ever saw." + +All present seemed deeply moved. + +"They are very poor and wretched." was said. + +"Poor and miserable enough," answered Mrs.' Slade. + +"We have just been taking up a collection for Mrs. Morgan. Here is +the money, Mrs. Slade--thirty dollars--we place it in your hands +for her benefit. Do with it, for her, as you may see best." + +"Oh, gentlemen!" What a quick gleam went over the face of Mrs. +Slade. "I thank you, from my heart, in the name of that unhappy +one, for this act of true benevolence. To you the sacrifice has +been small, to her the benefit will be great indeed. A new life +will, I trust be commenced by her husband, and this timely aid +will be something to rest upon, until he can get into better +employment than he now has. Oh, gentlemen! let me urge on you, one +and all, to make common cause in favor of Joe Morgan. His purposes +are good now, he means to keep his promise to his dying child-- +means to reform his life. Let good impulses that led to that act +of relief further prompt you to watch over him and, if you see him +about going astray, to lead him kindly back into the right path. +Never--oh' never encourage him to drink, but rather take the glass +from his hand, if his own appetite lead him aside and by all the +persuasive influence you possess, induce him to go out from the +place of temptation. + +"Pardon my boldness in saying so much" added Mrs. Slade, +recollecting herself and coloring deeply as she did so "My +feelings have led me away." + +And she took the money from the table where it had been placed, +and retired toward the door + +"You have spoken well madam" was answered "And we thank you for +reminding us of our duty." + +"One word more--and forgive the earnest heart from which it +comes"--said Mrs. Slade in a voice that trembled on the words she +uttered "I cannot help speaking, gentlemen! Think if some of you +be not entering the road wherein Joe Morgan has so long been +walking. Save him in heaven's name! but see that ye do not +yourselves become castaways!" + +As she said this she glided through the door and it closed after +her. + +"I don't know what her husband would say to that," was remarked +after a few moments of surprised silence. + +"I don't care what HE would say, but I'll tell you what _I_ will +say" spoke out a man whom I had several times noticed as a rather +a free tippler "The old lady has given us capital advice, and I +mean to take it, for one. I'm going to try to save Joe Morgan, +and--myself too. I've already entered the road she referred to; +but I'm going to turn back. So good-night to you all; and if Simon +Slade gets no more of my sixpences, he may thank his wife for it-- +God bless her!" + +And the man drew his hat with a jerk over his forehead, and left +immediately. + +This seemed the signal for dispersion, and all retired--not by way +of the bar-room, but out into the hall, and through the door +leading upon the porch that ran along in front of the house. Soon +after the bar was closed, and a dead silence reigned throughout +the house. I saw no more of Slade that night. Early in the +morning, I left Cedarville; the landlord looked very sober when he +bade me good-bye through the stage-door, and wished me a pleasant +journey. + + + + + +NIGHT THE FIFTH. + +SOME OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF TAVERN-KEEPING. + + +Nearly five years glided away before business again called me to +Cedarville. I knew little of what passed there in the interval, +except that Simon Slade had actually been indicted for +manslaughter, in causing the death of Morgan's child. He did not +stand a trial, however, Judge Lyman having used his influence, +successfully, in getting the indictment quashed. The judge, some +people said, interested himself in Slade more than was just +seemly--especially, as he had, on several occasions, in the +discharge of his official duties, displayed what seemed an over- +righteous indignation against individuals arraigned for petty +offences. The impression made upon me by Judge Lyman had not been +favorable. He seemed a cold, selfish, scheming man of the world. +That he was an unscrupulous politician, was plain to me, in a +single evening's observation of his sayings and doings among the +common herd of a village bar-room. + +As the stage rolled, with a gay flourish of our driver's bugle, +into the village, I noted here and there familiar objects, and +marked the varied evidences of change. Our way was past the +elegant residence and grounds of Judge Hammond, the most beautiful +and highly cultivated in Cedarville. At least, such it was +regarded at the time of my previous visit. But, the moment my eyes +rested upon the dwelling and its various surroundings, I perceived +an altered aspect. Was it the simple work of time? or, had +familiarity with other and more elegantly arranged suburban homes, +marred this in my eyes by involuntary contrast? Or had the hand of +cultivation really been stayed, and the marring fingers of neglect +suffered undisturbed to trace on every thing disfiguring +characters? + +Such questions were in my thoughts, when I saw a man in the large +portico of the dwelling, the ample columns of which, capped in +rich Corinthian, gave the edifice the aspect of a Grecian temple. +He stood leaning against one of the columns--his hat off, and his +long gray hair thrown back and resting lightly on his neck and +shoulders. His head was bent down upon his breast, and he seemed +in deep abstraction. Just as the coach swept by, he looked up, and +in the changed features I recognized Judge Hammond. His complexion +was still florid, but his face had grown thin, and his eyes were +sunken. Trouble was written in every lineament. Trouble? How +inadequately does the word express my meaning! Ah! at a single +glance, what a volume of suffering was opened to the gazer's eye. +Not lightly had the foot of time rested there, as if treading on +odorous flowers, but heavily, and with iron-shod heel. This I saw +at a glance; and then, only the image of the man was present to my +inner vision, for the swiftly rolling stage-coach had borne me +onward past the altered home of the wealthiest denizen of +Cedarville. In a few minutes our driver reined up before the +"Sickle and Sheaf," and as I stepped to the ground, a rotund, +coarse, red-faced man, whom I failed to recognize as Simon Slade +until he spoke, grasped my hand, and pronounced my name. I could +not but contrast, in thought, his appearance with what it was when +I first saw him, some six years previously; nor help saying to +myself: + +"So much for tavern-keeping!" + +As marked a change was visible everywhere in and around the +"Sickle and Sheaf." It, too, had grown larger by additions of +wings and rooms; but it had also grown coarser in growing larger. +When built, all the doors were painted white, and the shutters +green, giving to the house a neat, even tasteful appearance. But +the white and green had given place to a dark, dirty brown, that +to my eyes was particularly unattractive. The bar-room had been +extended, and now a polished brass rod, or railing, embellished +the counter, and sundry ornamental attractions had been given to +the shelving behind the bar--such as mirrors, gilding, etc. +Pictures, too, were hung upon the walls, or more accurately +speaking; coarse colored lithographs, the subjects of which, if +not really obscene, were flashing, or vulgar. In the sitting-room, +next to the bar, I noticed little change of objects, but much in +their condition. The carpet, chairs, and tables were the same in +fact, but far from being the same in appearance. The room had a +close, greasy odor, and looked as if it had not been thoroughly +swept and dusted for a week. + +A smart young Irishman was in the bar, and handed me the book in +which passenger's names were registered. After I had recorded +mine, he directed my trunk to be carried to the room designated as +the one I was to occupy. I followed the porter, who conducted me +to the chamber which had been mine at previous visits. Here, too, +were evidences of change; but not for the better. Then the room +was as sweet and clean as it could be; the sheets and pillow-cases +as white as snow, and the furniture shining with polish. Now all +was dusty and dingy, the air foul, and the bed-linen scarcely +whiter than tow. No curtain made softer the light as it came +through the window; nor would the shutters entirely keep out the +glare, for several of the slats were broken. A feeling of disgust +came over me, at the close smell and foul appearance of +everything; so, after washing my hands and face, and brushing the +dust from my clothes, I went down stairs. The sitting-room was +scarcely more attractive than my chamber; so I went out upon the +porch and took a chair. Several loungers were here; hearty, +strong-looking, but lazy fellows, who, if they had anything to do, +liked idling better than working. One of them leaned his chair +back against the wall of the house, and was swinging his legs with +a half circular motion, and humming "Old Folks at Home." Another +sat astride of a chair, with his face turned toward, and his chin +resting upon, the back. He was in too lazy a condition of body and +mind for motion or singing. A third had slidden down in his chair, +until he sat on his back, while his feet were elevated above his +head, and rested against one of the pillars that supported the +porch; while a fourth lay stretched out on a bench, sleeping, his +hat over his face to protect him from buzzing and biting flies. + +Though all but the sleeping man eyed me inquisitively, as I took +my place among them, not one changed his position. The rolling of +eye-balls cost but little exertion; and with that effort they were +contented. + +"Hallo! who's that?" one of these loungers suddenly exclaimed, as +a man went swiftly by in a light sulky; and he started up, and +gazed down the road, seeking to penetrate the cloud of dust which +the fleet rider had swept up with hoofs and wheels. + +"I didn't see." The sleeping man aroused himself, rubbed his eyes, +and gazed along the road. + +"Who was it, Matthew?" The Irish bar-keeper now stood in the door. + +"Willy Hammond," was answered by Matthew. + +"Indeed! Is that his new three hundred dollar horse?" + +"Yes." + +"My! but he's a screamer!" + +"Isn't he! Most as fast as his young master." + +"Hardly," said one of the men, laughing. "I don't think anything +in creation can beat Hammond. He goes it with a perfect rush." + +"Doesn't he! Well; you may say what you please of him, he's as +good-hearted a fellow as ever walked; and generous to a fault." + +"His old dad will agree with you in the last remark," said +Matthew. + +"No doubt of that, for he has to stand the bills," was answered. + +"Yes, whether he will or no, for I rather think Willy has, somehow +or other, got the upper hand of him." + +"In what way?" + +"It's Hammond and Son, over at the mill and distillery." + +"I know; but what of that!" + +"Willy was made the business man--ostensibly--in order, as the old +man thought, to get him to feel the responsibility of the new +position, and thus tame him down." + +"Tame HIM down! Oh, dear! It will take more than business to do +that. The curb was applied too late." + +"As the old gentleman has already discovered, I'm thinking, to his +sorrow." + +"He never comes here any more; does he, Matthew?" + +"Who?" + +"Judge Hammond." + +"Oh, dear, no. He and Slade had all sorts of a quarrel about a +year ago, and he's never darkened our doors since." + +"It was something about Willy and--." The speaker did not mention +any name, but winked knowingly and tossed his head toward the +entrance of the house, to indicate some member of Slade's family. + +"I believe so." + +"D'ye think Willy really likes her?" + +Matthew shrugged his shoulders, but made no answer. + +"She's a nice girl," was remarked in an under tone, "and good +enough for Hammond's son any day; though, if she were my daughter, +I'd rather see her in Jericho than fond of his company." + +"He'll have plenty of money to give her. She can live like a +queen." + +"For how long?" + +"Hush!" came from the lips of Matthew. "There she is now." + +I looked up, and saw at a short distance from the house, and +approaching, a young lady, in whose sweet, modest face, I at once +recognized Flora Slade, Five years had developed her into a +beautiful woman. In her alone, of all that appertained to Simon +Slade, there was no deterioration. Her eyes were as mild and pure +as when first I met her at gentle sixteen, and her father said "My +daughter," with such a mingling of pride and affection in his +tone. She passed near where I was sitting, and entered the house. +A closer view showed me some marks of thought and suffering; but +they only heightened the attraction of her face. I failed not to +observe the air of respect with which all returned her slight nod +and smile of recognition. + +"She's a nice girl, and no mistake--the flower of this flock," was +said, as soon as she passed into the house. + +"Too good for Willy Hammond, in my opinion," said Matthew. "Clever +and generous as people call him." + +"Just my opinion," was responded. "She's as pure and good, almost, +as an angel; and he?--I can tell you what--he's not the clean +thing. He knows a little too much of the world--on its bad side, I +mean." + +The appearance of Slade put an end to this conversation. A second +observation of his person and countenance did not remove the first +unfavorable impression. His face had grown decidedly bad in +expression, as well as gross and sensual. The odor of his breath, +as he took a chair close to where I was sitting, was that of one +who drank habitually and freely; and the red, swimming eyes +evidenced, too surely, a rapid progress toward the sad condition +of a confirmed inebriate. There was, too, a certain thickness of +speech, that gave another corroborating sign of evil progress. + +"Have you seen anything of Frank this afternoon?" he inquired of +Matthew, after we had passed a few words. + +"Nothing," was the bar-keeper's answer. + +"I saw him with Tom Wilkins as I came over," said one of the men +who was sitting in the porch. + +"What was he doing with Tom Wilkins?" said Slade, in a fretted +tone of voice. "He doesn't seem very choice in his company." + +"They were gunning." + +"Gunning!" + +"Yes. They both had fowling-pieces. I wasn't near enough to ask +where they were going." + +This information disturbed Slade a good deal. After muttering to +himself a little while, he started up and went into the house. + +"And I could have told him a little more, had I been so inclined," +said the individual who mentioned the fact that Frank was with Tom +Wilkins. + +"What more?" inquired Matthew. + +"There was a buggy in the case; and a champagne basket. What the +latter contained you can easily guess." + +"Whose buggy?" + +"I don't know anything about the buggy; but if 'Lightfoot' doesn't +sink in value a hundred dollars or so before sundown, call me a +false prophet." + +"Oh, no," said Matthew, incredulously. "Frank wouldn't do an +outrageous thing like that. Lightfoot won't be in a condition to +drive for a month to come." + +"I don't care. She's out now; and the way she was putting it down +when I saw her, would have made a locomotive look cloudy." + +"Where did he get her?" was inquired. + +"She's been in the six-acre field, over by Mason's Bridge, for the +last week or so," Matthew answered. "Well; all I have to say," he +added, "is that Frank ought to be slung up and well horse-whipped. +I never saw such a young rascal. He cares for no good, and fears +no evil. He's the worst boy I ever saw." + +"It would hardly do for you to call him a boy to his face," said +one of the men, laughing. + +"I don't have much to say to him in any way," replied Matthew, +"for I know very well that if we ever do get into a regular +quarrel, there'll be a hard time of it. The same house will not +hold us afterward--that's certain. So I steer clear of the young +reprobate." + +"I wonder his father don't put him to some business," was +remarked. "The idle life he now leads will be his ruin." + +"He was behind the bar for a year or two." + +"Yes; and was smart at mixing a glass--but--" + +"Was himself becoming too good a customer?" + +"Precisely. He got drunk as a fool before reaching his fifteenth +year." + +"Good gracious!" I exclaimed, involuntarily. + +"It's true, sir," said the last speaker, turning to me, "I never +saw anything like it. And this wasn't all bar-room talk, which, as +you may know, isn't the most refined and virtuous in the world. I +wouldn't like my son to hear much of it. Frank was always an eager +listener to everything that was said, and in a very short time +became an adept in slang and profanity. I'm no saint myself; but +it's often made my blood run cold to hear him swear." + +"I pity his mother," said I; for my thought turned naturally to +Mrs. Slade. + +"You may well do that," was answered. "I doubt if Cedarville holds +a sadder heart. It was a dark day for her, let me tell you, when +Simon Slade sold his mill and built this tavern. She was opposed +to it at the beginning." + +"I have inferred as much." + +"I know it," said the man. "My wife has been intimate with her for +years. Indeed, they have always been like sisters. I remember very +well her coming to our house, about the time the mill was sold, +and crying about it as if her heart would break. She saw nothing +but sorrow and trouble ahead. Tavern-keeping she had always +regarded as a low business, and the change from a respectable +miller to a lazy tavern-keeper, as she expressed it, was presented +to her mind as something disgraceful. I remember, very well, +trying to argue the point with her--assuming that it was quite as +respectable to keep tavern as to do anything else; but I might as +well have talked to the wind. She was always a pleasant, hopeful, +cheerful woman before that time, but, really, I don't think I've +seen a true smile on her face since." + +"That was a great deal for a man to lose," said I. + +"What?" he inquired, not clearly understanding me. + +"The cheerfull face of his wife." + +"The face was but an index of her heart," said he. + +"So much the worse." + +"True enough for that. Yes, it was a great deal to lose. + +"What has he gained that will make up for this?" + +The man shrugged his shoulders. + +"What has he gained?" I repeated. "Can you figure it up?" + +"He's a richer man, for one thing." + +"Happier?" + +There was another shrug of the shoulders. "I wouldn't like to say +that." + +"How much richer?" + +"Oh, a great deal. Somebody was saying, only yesterday, that he +couldn't be worth less than thirty thousand dollars." + +"Indeed? So much." + +"Yes." + +"How has he managed to accumulate so rapidly?" + +"His bar has a large run of custom. And, you know, that pays +wonderfully." + +"He must have sold a great deal of liquor in six years." + +"And he has. I don't think I'm wrong in saying that in the six +years which have gone by since the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was opened, +more liquor has been drank than in the previous twenty years." + +"Say forty," remarked a man who had been a listener to what we +said. + +"Let it be forty then," was the according answer. + +"How comes this?" I inquired. "You had a tavern here before the +'Sickle and Sheaf' was opened." + +"I know we had, and several places besides, where liquor was sold. +But, everybody far and near knew Simon Slade the miller, and +everybody liked him. He was a good miller, and a cheerful, social, +chatty sort of man putting everybody in a good humor who came near +him. So it became the talk everywhere, when he built this house, +which he fitted up nicer than anything that had been seen in these +parts. Judge Hammond, Judge Lyman, Lawyer Wilson, and all the big +bugs of the place at once patronized the new tavern, and of +course, everybody else did the same. So, you can easily see how he +got such a run." + +"It was thought, in the beginning," said I, "that the new tavern +was going to do wonders for Cedarville." + +"Yes," answered the man laughing, "and so it has." + +"In what respect?" + +"Oh, in many. It has made some men richer, and some poorer." + +"Who has it made poorer?" + +"Dozens of people. You may always take it for granted, when you +see a tavern-keeper who has a good run at his bar, getting rich, +that a great many people are getting poor." + +"How so?" I wished to hear in what way the man who was himself, as +was plain to see, a good customer at somebody's bar, reasoned on +the subject. + +"He does not add to the general wealth. He produces nothing. He +takes money from his customers, but gives them no article of value +in return--nothing that can be called property, personal or real. +He is just so much richer and they just so much poorer for the +exchange. Is it not so?" + +I readily assented to the position as true, and then said-- + +"Who, in particular, is poorer?" + +"Judge Hammond, for one." + +"Indeed! I thought the advance in his property, in consequence of +the building of this tavern, was so great, that he was reaping a +rich pecuniary harvest." + +"There was a slight advance in property along the street after the +'Sickle and Sheaf' was opened, and Judge Hammond was benefited +thereby. Interested parties made a good deal of noise about it; +but it didn't amount to much, I believe." + +"What has caused the judge to grow poorer?" + +"The opening of this tavern, as I just said." + +"In what way did it affect him?" + +"He was among Slade's warmest supporters, as soon as he felt the +advance in the price of building lots, called him one of the most +enterprising men in Cedarville--a real benefactor to the place-- +and all that stuff. To set a good example of patronage, he came +over every day and took his glass of brandy, and encouraged +everybody else that he could influence to do the same. Among those +who followed his example was his son Willy. There was not, let me +tell you, in all the country for twenty miles around, a finer +young man than Willy, nor one of so much promise, when this man- +trap"--he let his voice fall, and glanced around, as he thus +designated Slade's tavern--"was opened; and now, there is not one +dashing more recklessly along the road to ruin. When too late, his +father saw that his son was corrupted, and that the company he +kept was of a dangerous character. Two reasons led him to purchase +Slade's old mill, and turn it into a factory and a distillery. Of +course, he had to make a heavy outlay for additional buildings, +machinery, and distilling apparatus. The reasons influencing him +were the prospect of realizing a large amount of money, especially +in distilling, and the hope of saving Willy, by getting him +closely engaged and interested in business. To accomplish, more +certainly, the latter end, he unwisely transferred to his son, as +his own capital, twenty thousand dollars, and then formed with him +a regular copartnership--giving Willy an active business control. + +"But the experiment, sir," added the man, emphatically, "has +proved a failure. I heard yesterday, that both mill and distillery +were to be shut up, and offered for sale." + +"They did not prove as money-making as was anticipated?" + +"No, not under Willy Hammond's management. He had made too many +bad acquaintances--men who clung to him because he had plenty of +money at his command, and spent it as freely as water. One-half of +his time he was away from the mill, and while there, didn't half +attend to business. I've heard it said--and I don't much doubt its +truth--that he's squandered his twenty thousand dollars, and a +great deal more besides." + +"How is that possible?" + +"Well; people talk, and not always at random. There's been a man +staying here, most of his time, for the last four or five years, +named Green. He does not do anything, and don't seem to have any +friends in the neighborhood. Nobody knows where he came from, and +he is not at all communicative on that head himself. Well, this +man became acquainted with young Hammond after Willy got to +visiting the bar here, and attached himself to him at once. They +have, to all appearance, been fast friends ever since; riding +about, or going off on gunning or fishing excursions almost every +day, and secluding themselves somewhere nearly every evening. That +man, Green, sir, it is whispered, is a gambler; and I believe it. +Granted, and there is no longer a mystery as to what Willy does +with his own and his father's money." + +I readily assented to this view of the case. + +"And so assuming that Green is a gambler," said I, "he has grown +richer, in consequence of the opening of a new and more attractive +tavern in Cedarville." + +"Yes, and Cedarville is so much the poorer for all his gains; for +I've never heard of his buying a foot of ground, or in any way +encouraging productive industry. He's only a blood-sucker." + +"It is worse than the mere abstraction of money," I remarked; "he +corrupts his victims, at the same time that he robs them." + +"True." + +"Willy Hammond may not be his only victim," I suggested. + +"Nor is he, in my opinion. I've been coming to this bar, nightly, +for a good many years--a sorry confession for a man to make, I +must own," he added, with a slight tinge of shame; "but so it is. +Well, as I was saying, I've been coming to this bar, nightly, for +a good many years, and I generally see all that is going on around +me. Among the regular visitors are at least half a dozen young +men, belonging to our best families--who have been raised with +care, and well educated. That their presence here is unknown to +their friends, I am quite certain--or, at least, unknown and +unsuspected by some of them. They do not drink a great deal yet; +but all try a glass or two. Toward nine o'clock, often at an +earlier hour, you will see one and another of them go quietly out +of the bar, through the sitting-room, preceded, or soon followed, +by Green and Slade. At any hour of the night, up to one or two, +and sometimes three o'clock, you can see light streaming through +the rent in a curtain drawn before a particular window, which I +know to be in the room of Harvey Green. These are facts, sir; and +you can draw your own conclusion. I think it a very serious +matter." + +"Why does Slade go out with these young men?" I inquired. "Do you +think he gambles also?" + +"If he isn't a kind of a stool-pigeon for Harvey Green, then I'm +mistaken again." + +"Hardly. He cannot, already, have become so utterly unprincipled." + +"It's a bad school, sir, this tavern-keeping," said the man. + +"I readily grant you that." + +"And it's nearly seven years since he commenced to take lessons. A +great deal may be learned, sir, of good or evil, in seven years, +especially if any interest be taken in the studies." + +"True." + +"And it's true in this case, you may depend upon it. Simon Slade +is not the man he was, seven years ago. Anybody with half an eye +can see that. He's grown selfish, grasping, unscrupulous, and +passionate. There could hardly be a greater difference between men +than exists between Simon Slade the tavern-keeper, and Simon Slade +the miller." + +"And intemperate, also?" I suggested. + +"He's beginning to take a little too much," was answered. + +"In that case, he'll scarcely be as well off five years hence as +he is now." + +"He's at the top of the wheel, some of us think." + +"What has led to this opinion?" + +"He's beginning to neglect his house, for one thing." + +"A bad sign." + +"And there is another sign. Heretofore, he has always been on +hand, with the cash, when desirable property went off, under +forced sale, at a bargain. In the last three or four months, +several great sacrifices have been made, but Simon Slade showed no +inclination to buy. Put this fact against another,--week before +last, he sold a house and lot in the town for five hundred dollars +less than he paid for them, a year ago--and for just that sum less +than their true value." + +"How came that?" I inquired. + +"Ah! there's the question! He wanted money; though for what +purpose he has not intimated to any one, as far as I can learn." + +"What do you think of it?" + +"Just this. He and Green have been hunting together in times past; +but the professed gambler's instincts are too strong to let him +spare even his friend in evil. They have commenced playing one +against the other." + +"Ah! you think so?" + +"I do; and if I conjecture rightly, Simon Slade will be a poorer +man, in a year from this time, than he is now." + +Here our conversation was interrupted. Some one asked my talkative +friend to go and take a drink, and he, nothing loath, left me +without ceremony. + +Very differently served was the supper I partook of on that +evening, from the one set before me on the occasion of my first +visit to the "Sickle and Sheaf." The table-cloth was not merely +soiled, but offensively dirty; the plates, cups, and saucers, +dingy and sticky; the knives and forks unpolished; and the food of +a character to satisfy the appetite with a very few mouthfuls. Two +greasy-looking Irish girls waited on the table, at which neither +landlord nor landlady presided. I was really hungry when the +supper-bell rang; but the craving of my stomach soon ceased in the +atmosphere of the dining-room, and I was the first to leave the +table. + +Soon after the lamps were lighted, company began to assemble in +the spacious bar-room, where were comfortable seats, with tables, +newspapers, backgammon boards, dominoes, etc. The first act of +nearly every one who came in was to call for a glass of liquor; +and sometimes the same individual drank two or three times in the +course of half an hour, on the invitation of new comers who were +convivially inclined. + +Most of those who came in were strangers to me. I was looking from +face to face to see if any of the old company were present, when +one countenance struck me as familiar. I was studying it, in +order, if possible, to identify the person, when some one +addressed him as "Judge." + +Changed as the face was, I now recognized it as that of Judge +Lyman. Five years had marred that face terribly. It seemed twice +the former size; and all its bright expression was gone. The +thickened and protruding eyelids half closed the leaden eyes, and +the swollen lips and cheeks gave to his countenance a look of all +predominating sensuality. True manliness had bowed itself in +debasing submission to the bestial. He talked loudly, and with a +pompous dogmatism--mainly on political subjects--but talked only +from memory; for any one could see, that thought came into but +feeble activity. And yet, derationalized, so to speak, as he was, +through drink, he had been chosen a representative in Congress, at +the previous election, on the anti-temperance ticket, and by a +very handsome majority. He was the rum candidate; and the rum +interest, aided by the easily swayed "indifferents," swept aside +the claims of law, order, temperance, and good morals; and the +district from which he was chosen as a National Legislator sent +him up to the National Councils, and said in the act--"Look upon +him we have chosen as our representative, and see in him a type of +our principles, our quality, and our condition, as a community." + +Judge Lyman, around whom a little circle soon gathered, was very +severe on the temperance party, which, for two years, had opposed +his election, and which, at the last struggle, showed itself to be +a rapidly growing organization. During the canvass, a paper was +published by this party, in which his personal habits, character, +and moral principles were discussed in the freest manner, and +certainly not in a way to elevate him in the estimation of men +whose opinion was of any value. + +It was not much to be wondered at, that he assumed to think +temperance issues at the polls were false issues; and that when +temperance men sought to tamper with elections, the liberties of +the people were in danger; nor that he pronounced the whole body +of temperance men as selfish schemers and canting hypocrites. + +"The next thing we will have," he exclaimed, warming with his +theme, and speaking so loud that his voice sounded throughout the +room, and arrested every one's attention, "will be laws to fine +any man who takes a chew of tobacco, or lights a cigar. Touch the +liberties of the people in the smallest particular, and all +guarantees are gone. The Stamp Act, against which our noble +forefathers rebelled, was a light measure of oppression to that +contemplated by these worse than fanatics." + +"You are right there, judge; right for once in your life, if you +(hic) were never right before!" exclaimed a battered-looking +specimen of humanity, who stood near the speaker, slapping Judge +Lyman on the shoulder familiarly as he spoke. "There's no telling +what they will do. There's (hic) my old uncle Josh Wilson, who's +been keeper of the Poor-house these ten years. Well, they're going +to turn him out, if ever they get the upper hand in Bolton +county." + +"If? That word involves a great deal, Harry!" said Lyman. "We +mus'n't let them get the upper hand. Every man has a duty to +perform to his country in this matter, and every one must do his +duty. But what have they got against your Uncle Joshua? What has +he been doing to offend this righteous party?" + +"They've nothing against him, (hic) I believe. Only, they say, +they're not going to have a Poor-house in the county at all." + +"What! Going to turn the poor wretches out to starve?" said one. + +"Oh no! (hic)," and the fellow grinned, half shrewdly and half +maliciously, as he answered--"no, not that. But, when they carry +the day, there'll be no need of Poor-houses. At least, that's +their talk--and I guess maybe there's something in it, for I never +knew a man to go to the Poor-house, who hadn't (hic) rum to blame +for his poverty. But, you see, I'm interested in this matter. I go +for keeping up the Poor-house (hic); for I guess I'm travelling +that road, and I shouldn't like to get to the last milestone (hic) +and find no snug quarters--no Uncle Josh. You're safe for one +vote, any how, old chap, on next election day!" And the man's +broad hand slapped the member's shoulder again. "Huzza for the +rummies! That's (hic) the ticket! Harry Grimes never deserts his +friends. True as steel!" + +"You're a trump!" returned Judge Lyman, with low familiarity. +"Never fear about the Poor-house and Uncle Josh. They're all +safe." + +"But look here, judge," resumed the man. "It isn't only the Poor- +house, the jail is to go next." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes, that's their talk; and I guess they ain't far out of the +way, neither. What takes men to jail? You can tell us something +about that, judge, for you've jugged a good many in your time. +Didn't pretty much all of 'em drink rum (hic)?" + +But the judge answered nothing. + +"Silence (hic) gives consent," resumed Grimes. "And they say more; +once give 'em the upper hand--and they're confident of beating us +--and the Courthouse will be to let. As for judges and lawyers, +they'll starve, or go into some better business. So you see, (hic) +judge, your liberties are in danger. But fight hard, old fellow; +and if you must die, (hic) die game!" + +How well Judge Lyman relished this mode of presenting the case, +was not very apparent; he was too good a politician and office- +seeker, to show any feeling on the subject, and thus endanger a +vote. Harry Grimes' vote counted one, and a single vote sometimes +gained or lost an election. + +"One of their gags," he said, laughing. "But I'm too old a stager +not to see the flimsiness of such pretensions. Poverty and crime +have their origin in the corrupt heart, and their foundations are +laid long and long before the first step is taken on the road to +inebriety. It is easy to promise results; for only the few look at +causes, and trace them to their effects." + +"Rum and ruin (hic). Are they not cause and effect?" asked Grimes. + +"Sometimes they are," was the half extorted answer. + +"Oh, Green, is that you?" exclaimed the judge, as Harvey Green +came in with a soft cat-like step. He was, evidently, glad of a +chance to get rid of his familiar friend and elector. + +I turned my eyes upon the man, and read his face closely. It was +unchanged. The same cold, sinister eye; the same chiselled mouth, +so firm now, and now yielding so elastically; the same smile "from +the teeth outward"--the same lines that revealed his heart's deep, +dark selfishness. If he had indulged in drink during the five +intervening years, it had not corrupted his blood, nor added +thereto a single degree of heat. + +"Have you seen anything of Hammond this evening?" asked Judge +Lyman. + +"I saw him an hour or two ago," answered Green. + +"How does he like his new horse?" + +"He's delighted with him." + +"What was the price?" + +"Three hundred dollars." + +"Indeed!" + +The judge had already arisen, and he and Green were now walking +side by side across the bar-room floor. + +"I want to speak a word with you," I heard Lyman say. + +And then the two went out together. I saw no more of them during +the evening. + +Not long afterward, Willy Hammond came in. Ah! there was a sad +change here; a change that in no way belied the words of Matthew +the bar-keeper. He went up to the bar, and I heard him ask for +Judge Lyman. The answer was in so low a voice that it did not +reach my ear. + +With a quick, nervous motion, Hammond threw his hand toward a row +of decanters on the shelf behind the bar-keeper, who immediately +set one of them containing brandy before him. From this he poured +a tumbler half full, and drank it off at a single draught, unmixed +with water. + +He then asked some further question, which I could not hear, +manifesting, as it appeared, considerable excitement of mind. In +answering him, Matthew glanced his eyes upward, as if indicating +some room in the house. The young man then retired, hurriedly, +through the sitting-room. + +"What's the matter with Willy Hammond tonight?" asked some one of +the bar-keeper. "Who's he after in such a hurry?" + +"He wants to see Judge Lyman," replied Matthew. + +"Oh!" + +"I guess they're after no good," was remarked. + +"Not much, I'm afraid." + +Two young men, well dressed, and with faces marked by +intelligence, came in at the moment, drank at the bar, chatted a +little while familiarly with the bar-keeper, and then quietly +disappeared through the door leading into the sitting-room. I met +the eyes of the man with whom I had talked during the afternoon, +and his knowing wink brought to mind his suggestion, that in one +of the upper rooms gambling went on nightly, and that some of the +most promising young men of the town had been drawn, through the +bar attraction, into this vortex of ruin. I felt a shudder +creeping along my nerves. + +The conversation that now went on among the company was of such an +obscene and profane character that, in disgust, I went out. The +night was clear, the air soft, and the moon shining down brightly. +I walked for some time in the porch, musing on what I had seen and +heard; while a constant stream of visitors came pouring into the +bar-room. Only a few of these remained. The larger portion went in +quickly, took their glass, and then left, as if to avoid +observation as much as possible. + +Soon after I commenced walking in the porch, I noticed an elderly +lady go slowly by, who, in passing, slightly paused, and evidently +tried to look through the bar-room door. The pause was but for an +instant. In less than ten minutes she came back, again stopped-- +this time longer--and again moved off slowly, until she passed out +of sight. I was yet thinking about her, when, on lifting my eyes +from the ground, she was advancing along the road, but a few rods +distant. I almost started at seeing her, for there no longer +remained a doubt on my mind, that she was some trembling, +heartsick woman, in search of an erring son, whose feet were in +dangerous paths. Seeing me, she kept on, though lingeringly. She +went but a short distance before returning; and this time, she +moved in closer to the house, and reached a position that enabled +her eyes to range through a large portion of the bar-room. A +nearer inspection appeared to satisfy her. She retired with +quicker steps; and did not again return during the evening. + +Ah! what a commentary upon the uses of an attractive tavern was +here! My heart ached, as I thought of all that unknown mother had +suffered, and was doomed to suffer. I could not shut out the image +of her drooping form as I lay upon my pillow that night; she even +haunted me in my dreams. + + + + + +NIGHT THE SIXTH. + +MORE CONSEQUENCES. + + +The landlord did not make his appearance on the next morning until +nearly ten o'clock; and then he looked like a man who had been on +a debauch. It was eleven before Harvey Green came down. Nothing +about him indicated the smallest deviation from the most orderly +habit. Clean shaved, with fresh linen, and a face, every line of +which was smoothed into calmness, he looked as if he had slept +soundly on a quiet conscience, and now hailed the new day with a +tranquil spirit. + +The first act of Slade was to go behind the bar and take a stiff +glass of brandy and water; the first act of Green, to order +beefsteak and coffee for his breakfast. I noticed the meeting +between the two men, on the appearance of Green. There was a +slight reserve on the part of Green, and an uneasy embarrassment +on the part of Slade. Not even the ghost of a smile was visible in +either countenance. They spoke a few words together, and then +separated as if from a sphere of mutual repulsion. I did not +observe them again in company during the day. + +"There's trouble over at the mill," was remarked by a gentleman +with whom I had some business transactions in the afternoon. He +spoke to a person who sat in his office. + +"Ah! what's the matter?" said the other. + +"All the hands were discharged at noon, and the mill shut down." + +"How comes that?" + +"They've been losing money from the start." + +"Rather bad practice, I should say." + +"It involves some bad practices, no doubt." + +"On Willy's part?" + +"Yes. He is reported to have squandered the means placed in his +hands, after a shameless fashion." + +"Is the loss heavy?" + +"So it is said." + +"How much?" + +"Reaching to thirty or forty thousand dollars. But this is rumor, +and, of course, an exaggeration." + +"Of course. No such loss as that could have been made. But what +was done with the money? How could Willy have spent it? He dashes +about a great deal; buys fast horses, drinks rather freely, and +all that; but thirty or forty thousand dollars couldn't escape in +this way." + +At the moment a swift trotting horse, bearing a light sulky and a +man, went by. + +"There goes young Hammond's three hundred dollar animal," said the +last speaker. + +"It was Willy Hammond's yesterday. But there has been a change of +ownership since then; I happen to know." + +"Indeed." + +"Yes. The man Green, who has been loafing about Cedarville for the +last few years--after no good, I can well believe--came into +possession to-day." + +"Ah! Willy must be very fickle-minded. Does the possession of a +coveted object so soon bring satiety?" + +"There is something not clearly understood about the transaction. +I saw Mr. Hammond during the forenoon, and he looked terribly +distressed." + +"The embarrassed condition of things at the mill readily accounts +for this." + +"True; but I think there are causes of trouble beyond the mere +embarrassments." + +"The dissolute, spendthrift habits of his son," was suggested. +"These are sufficient to weigh down the father's spirits,--to bow +him to the very dust." + +"To speak out plainly," said the other, "I am afraid that the +young man adds another vice to that of drinking and idleness." + +"What?" + +"Gaining." + +"No!" + +"There is little doubt of it in my mind. And it is further my +opinion, that his fine horse, for which he paid three hundred +dollars only a few days ago, has passed into the hands of this man +Green, in payment of a debt contracted at the gaming table." + +"You shock me. Surely, there can be no grounds for such a belief." + +"I have, I am sorry to say, the gravest reasons for what I allege. +That Green is a professional gambler, who was attracted here by +the excellent company that assembled at the 'Sickle and Sheaf' in +the beginning of the lazy miller's pauper-making experiment, I do +not in the least question. Grant this, and take into account the +fact that young Hammond has been much in his company, and you have +sufficient cause for the most disastrous effects." + +"If this be really so," observed the gentleman, over whose face a +shadow of concern darkened, "then Willy Hammond may not be his +only victim." + +"And is not, you may rest assured. If rumor be true, other of our +promising young men are being drawn into the whirling circles that +narrow toward a vortex of ruin." + +In corroboration of this, I mentioned the conversation I had held +with one of the frequenters of Slade's bar room, on this very +subject; and also what I had myself observed on the previous +evening. + +The man, who had until now been sitting quietly in a chair, +started up, exclaiming as he did so-- + +"Merciful heaven! I never dreamed of this! Whose sons are safe?" + +"No man's," was the answer of the gentleman in whose office we +were sitting--"No man's--while there are such open doors to ruin +as you may find at the 'Sickle and Sheaf.' Did not you vote the +anti-temperance ticket at the last election?" + +"I did," was the answer; "and from principle." + +"On what were your principles based?" was inquired. + +"On the broad foundations of civil liberty." + +"The liberty to do good or evil, just as the individual may +choose?" + +"I would not like to say that. There are certain evils against +which there can be no legislation that would not do harm. No civil +power in this country has the right to say what a citizen shall +eat or drink." + +"But may not the people, in any community, pass laws, through +their delegated law-makers, restraining evil-minded persons from +injuring the common good?" + +"Oh, certainly--certainly." + +"And are you prepared to affirm, that a drinking-shop, where young +men are corrupted, aye, destroyed, body and soul--does not work an +injury to the common good?" + +"Ah! but there must be houses of public entertainment." + +"No one denies this. But can that be a really Christian community +which provides for the moral debasement of strangers, at the same +time that it entertains them? Is it necessary that, in giving rest +and entertainment to the traveler, we also lead him into +temptation?" + +"Yes--but--but--it is going too far to legislate on what we are to +eat and drink. It is opening too wide a door for fanatical +oppression. We must inculcate temperance as a right principle. We +must teach our children the evils of intemperance, and send them +out into the world as practical teachers of order, virtue and +sobriety. If we do this, the reform becomes radical, and in a few +years there will be no bar-rooms, for none will crave the fiery +poison." + +"Of little value, my friend, will be, in far too many cases, your +precepts, if temptation invites our sons at almost every step of +their way through life. Thousands have fallen, and thousands are +now tottering, soon to fall. Your sons are not safe; nor are mine. +We cannot tell the day nor the hour when they may weakly yield to +the solicitation of some companion, and enter the wide open door +of ruin. And are we wise and good citizens to commission men to do +the evil work of enticement--to encourage them to get gain in +corrupting and destroying our children? To hesitate over some +vague ideal of human liberty when the sword is among us, slaying +our best and dearest? Sir! while you hold back from the work of +staying the flood that is desolating our fairest homes, the black +waters are approaching your own doors." + +There was a startling emphasis in the tones with which this last +sentence was uttered; and I do not wonder at the look of anxious +alarm that it called to the face of him whose fears it was meant +to excite. + +"What do you mean, sir?" was inquired. + +"Simply, that your sons are in equal danger with others." + +"And is that all?" + +"They have been seen, of late, in the bar-room of the 'Sickle and +Sheaf.'" + +"Who says so?" + +"Twice within a week I have seen them going there," was answered. + +"Good heavens! No!" + +"It is true, my friend. But who is safe? If we dig pits, and +conceal them from view, what marvel if our own children fall +therein?" + +"My sons going to a tavern?" The man seemed utterly confounded. +"How CAN I believe it? You must be in error, sir." + +"No. What I tell you is the simple truth. And if they go there--" + +The man paused not to hear the conclusion of the sentence, but +went hastily from the office. + +"We are beginning to reap as we have sown," remarked the +gentleman, turning to me as his agitated friend left the office. +"As I told them in the commencement it would be, so it is +happening. The want of a good tavern in Cedarville was over and +over again alleged as one of the chief causes of our want of +thrift, and when Slade opened the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' the man was +almost glorified. The gentleman who has just left us failed not in +laudation of the enterprising landlord; the more particularly, as +the building of the new tavern advanced the price of ground on the +street, and made him a few hundred dollars richer. Really, for a +time, one might have thought, from the way people went on, that +Simon Slade was going to make every man's fortune in Cedarville. +But all that has been gained by a small advance in property, is as +a grain of sand to a mountain, compared with the fearful +demoralization that has followed." + +I readily assented to this, for I had myself seen enough to +justify the conclusion. + +As I sat in the bar-room of the "Sickle and Sheaf" that evening, I +noticed, soon after the lamps were lighted, the gentleman referred +to in the above conversation, whose sons were represented as +visitors to the bar, come in quietly, and look anxiously about the +room. He spoke to no one, and, after satisfying himself that those +he sought were not there, went out. + +"What sent him here, I wonder?" muttered Slade, speaking partly to +himself, and partly aside to Matthew, the bar-keeper. + +"After the boys, I suppose," was answered. + +"I guess the boys are old enough to take care of themselves." + +"They ought to be," returned Matthew. + +"And are," said Slade. "Have they been here this evening?" + +"No, not yet." + +While they yet talked together, two young men whom I had seen on +the night before, and noticed particularly as showing signs of +intelligence and respectability beyond the ordinary visitors at a +bar-room, came in. + +"John," I heard Slade say, in a low, confidential voice, to one of +them, "your old man was here just now." + +"No!" The young man looked startled--almost confounded. + +"It's a fact. So you'd better keep shady." + +"What did he want?" + +"I don't know." + +"What did he say?" + +"Nothing. He just came in, looked around, and then went out." + +"His face was as dark as a thunder-cloud," remarked Matthew. + +"Is No. 4 vacant?" inquired one of the young men. + +"Yes." + +"Send us up a bottle of wine and some cigars. And when Bill +Harding and Harry Lee come in, tell them where they can find us." + +"All right," said Matthew. "And now, take a friend's advice and +make yourselves scarce." + +The young men left the room hastily. Scarcely had they departed, +ere I saw the same gentleman come in, whose anxious face had, a +little while before, thrown its shadow over the apartment. He was +the father in search of his sons. Again he glanced around +nervously; and this time appeared to be disappointed. As he +entered, Slade went out. + +"Have John and Wilson been here this evening?" he asked, coming up +to the bar and addressing Matthew. + +"They are not here;" replied Matthew, evasively. + +"But haven't they been here?" + +"They may have been here; I only came in from my supper a little +while ago." + +"I thought I saw them entering, only a moment or two ago." + +"They're not here, sir." Matthew shook his head and spoke firmly. + +"Where is Mr. Slade?" + +"In the house, somewhere." + +"I wish you would ask him to step here." + +Matthew went out, but in a little while came back with word that +the landlord was not to be found. + +"You are sure the boys are not here?" said the man, with a +doubting, dissatisfied manner. + +"See for yourself, Mr. Harrison!" + +"Perhaps they are in the parlor?" + +"Step in, sir," coolly returned Matthew. The man went through the +door into the sitting-room, but came back immediately. + +"Not there?" said Matthew. The man shook his head. "I don't think +you'll find them about here," added the bar-keeper. + +Mr. Harrison--this was the name by which Matthew addressed him-- +stood musing and irresolute for some minutes. He could not be +mistaken about the entrance of his sons, and yet they were not +there. His manner was much perplexed. At length he took a seat, in +a far corner of the bar-room, somewhat beyond the line of +observation, evidently with the purpose of waiting to see if those +he sought would come in. He had not been there long, before two +young men entered, whose appearance at once excited his interest. +They went up to the bar and called for liquor. As Matthew set the +decanter before them, he leaned over the counter, and said +something in a whisper. + +"Where?" was instantly ejaculated, in surprise, and both of the +young men glanced uneasily about the room. They met the eyes of +Mr. Harrison, fixed intently upon them. I do not think, from the +way they swallowed their brandy and water, that it was enjoyed +very much. + +"What the deuce is he doing here?" I heard one of them say, in a +low voice. + +"After the boys, of course." + +"Have they come yet?" + +Matthew winked as he answered, "All safe." + +"In No. 4?" + +"Yes. And the wine and cigars all waiting for you." + +"Good." + +"You'd better not go through the parlor. Their old man's not at +all satisfied. He half suspects they're in the house. Better go +off down the street, and come back and enter through the passage." + +The young men, acting on this hint, at once retired, the eyes of +Harrison following them out. + +For nearly an hour Mr. Harrison kept his position, a close +observer of all that transpired. I am very much in error, if, +before leaving that sink of iniquity, he was not fully satisfied +as to the propriety of legislating on the liquor question. Nay, I +incline to the opinion, that, if the power of suppression had +rested in his hands, there would not have been, in the whole +state, at the expiration of an hour, a single dram-selling +establishment. The goring of his ox had opened his eyes to the +true merits of the question. While he was yet in the bar-room, +young Hammond made his appearance. His look was wild and excited. +First he called for brandy, and drank with the eagerness of a man +long athirst. + +"Where is Green?" I heard him inquire, as he set his glass upon +the counter. + +"Haven't seen anything of him since supper," was answered by +Matthew. + +"Is he in his room?" + +"I think it probable." + +"Has Judge Lyman been about here tonight?" + +"Yes. He spouted here for half an hour against the temperance +party, as usual, and then"--Matthew tossed his head toward the +door leading to the sitting-room. + +Hammond was moving toward this door, when, in glancing around the +room, he encountered the fixed gaze of Mr. Harrison--a gaze that +instantly checked his progress. Returning to the bar, and leaning +over the counter, he said to Matthew: + +"What has sent him here?" + +Matthew winked knowingly. + +"After the boys?" inquired Hammond. + +"Yes." + +"Where are they?" + +"Up-stairs." + +"Does he suspect this?" + +"I can't tell. If he doesn't think them here now, he is looking +for them to come in." + +"Do they know he is after them?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"All safe then?" + +"As an iron chest. If you want to see them, just rap at No. 4." + +Hammond stood for some minutes leaning on the bar, and then, not +once again looking toward that part of the room where Mr. Harrison +was seated, passed out through the door leading to the street. +Soon afterward Mr. Harrison departed. + +Disgusted as on the night before, with the unceasing flow of vile, +obscene, and profane language, I left my place of observation in +the bar-room and sought the open air. The sky was unobscured by a +single cloud, and the moon, almost at the full, shone abroad with +more than common brightness. I had not been sitting long in the +porch, when the same lady, whose movements had attracted my +attention, came in sight, walking very slowly--the deliberate pace +assumed, evidently, for the purpose of better observation. On +coming opposite the tavern, she slightly paused, as on the evening +before, and then kept on, passing down the street until she was +beyond observation. + +"Poor mother!" I was still repeating to myself, when her form +again met my eyes. Slowly she advanced, and now came in nearer to +the house. The interest excited in my mind was so strong, that I +could not repress the desire I felt to address her, and so stepped +from the shadow of the porch. She seemed startled, and retreated +backward several paces. + +"Are you in search of any one?" I inquired, respectfully. + +The woman now stood in a position that let the moon shine full +upon her face, revealing every feature. She was far past the +meridian of life; and there were lines of suffering and sorrow on +her fine countenance. I saw that her lips moved, but it was some +time before I distinguished the words. + +"Have you seen my son to-night? They say he comes here." + +The manner in which this was said caused a cold thrill to run over +me. I perceived that the woman's mind wandered. I answered: + +"No, ma'am; I haven't seen any thing of him." + +My tone of voice seemed to inspire her with confidence, for she +came up close to me, and bent her face toward mine. + +"It is a dreadful place," she whispered, huskily. "And they say he +comes here. Poor boy! He isn't what he used to be." + +"It is a very bad place," said I. "Come"--and I moved a step or +two in the direction from which I had seen her approaching--"come, +you'd better go away as quickly as possible." + +"But if he's here," she answered, not moving from where she stood, +"I might save him, you know." + +"I am sure you won't find him, ma'am," I urged. "Perhaps he is +home, now." + +"Oh, no! no!" And she shook her head mournfully. "He never comes +home until long after midnight. I wish I could see inside of the +bar-room. I'm sure he must be there." + +"If you will tell me his name, I will go in and search for him." + +After a moment of hesitation she answered: + +"His name is Willy Hammond." + +How the name, uttered so sadly, and yet with such moving +tenderness by the mother's lips, caused me to start--almost to +tremble. + +"If he is in the house, ma'am," said I, firmly, "I will see him +for you." And I left her and went into the bar. + +"In what room do you think I will find young Hammond?" I asked of +the bar-keeper. He looked at me curiously, but did not answer. The +question had come upon him unanticipated. + +"In Harvey Green's room?" I pursued. + +"I don't know, I am sure. He isn't in the house to my knowledge. I +saw him go out about half an hour since." + +"Green's room is No.----?" + +"Eleven," he answered. + +"In the front part of the house?" + +"Yes." + +I asked no further question, but went to No. 11, and tapped on the +door. But no one answered the summons. I listened, but could not +distinguish the slightest sound within. Again I knocked; but +louder. If my ears did not deceive me, the chink of coin was +heard. Still there was neither voice nor movement. + +I was disappointed. That the room had inmates, I felt sure. +Remembering, now, what I had heard about light being seen in this +room through a rent in the curtain, I went down-stairs, and out +into the street. A short distance beyond the house, I saw, dimly, +the woman's form. She had only just passed in her movement to and +fro. Glancing up at the window, which I now knew to be the one in +Green's room, light through the torn curtain was plainly visible. +Back into the house I went, and up to No. 11. This time I knocked +imperatively; and this time made myself heard. + +"What's wanted?" came from within. I knew the voice to be that of +Harvey Green. + +I only knocked louder. A hurried movement and the low murmur of +voices was heard for some moments; then the door was unlocked and +held partly open by Green, whose body so filled the narrow +aperture that I could not look into the room. Seeing me, a dark +scowl fell upon his countenance. + +"What d'ye want?" he inquired, sharply. + +"Is Mr. Hammond here? If so, he is wanted downstairs." + +"No, he's not," was the quick answer. "What sent you here for him, +hey?" + +"The fact that I expected to find him in your room," was my firm +answer. + +Green was about shutting the door in my face, when some one placed +a hand on his shoulder, and said something to him that I could not +hear. + +"Who wants to see him?" he inquired of me. + +Satisfied, now, that Hammond was in the room, I said, slightly +elevating my voice: + +"His mother." + +The words were an "open sesame" to the room. The door was suddenly +jerked open, and with a blanching face, the young man confronted +me. + +"Who says my mother is down-stairs?" he demanded. + +"I come from her in search of you," I said. "You will find her in +the road, walking up and down in front of the tavern." + +Almost with a bound he swept by me, and descended the stairway at +two or three long strides. As the door swung open, I saw besides +Green and Hammond, the landlord and Judge Lyman. It needed not the +loose cards on the table near which the latter were sitting to +tell me of their business in that room. + +As quickly as seemed decorous, I followed Hammond. On the porch I +met him, coming in from the road. + +"You have deceived me, sir," said he, sternly--almost menacingly. + +"No, sir!" I replied. "What I told you was but too true. Look! +There she is now." + +The young man sprung around, and stood before the woman, a few +paces distant. + +"Mother! oh, mother! what HAS brought you here?" he exclaimed, in +an under tone, as he caught her arm, and moved away. He spoke--not +roughly, nor angrily--but with respect--half reproachfulness--and +an unmistakable tenderness. + +"Oh, Willy! Willy!" I heard her answer. "Somebody said you came +here at night, and I couldn't rest. Oh, dear. They'll murder you! +I know they will. Don't, oh!--" + +My ears took in the sense no further, though her pleading voice +still reached my ears. A few moments, and they were out of sight. + +Nearly two hours afterward, as I was ascending to my chamber, a +man brushed quickly by me. I glanced after him, and recognized the +person of young Hammond. He was going to the room of Harvey Green! + + + + + +NIGHT THE SEVENTH + +SOWING THE WIND. + + +The state of affairs in Cedarville, it was plain, from the partial +glimpses I had received, was rather desperate. Desperate, I mean, +as regarded the various parties brought before my observation. An +eating cancer was on the community, and so far as the eye could +mark its destructive progress, the ravages were tearful. That its +roots were striking deep, and penetrating, concealed from view, in +many unsuspected directions, there could be no doubt. What +appeared on the surface was but a milder form of the disease, +compared with its hidden, more vital, and more dangerous advances. + +I could not but feel a strong interest in some of these parties. +The case of young Hammond had, from the first, awakened concern; +and now a new element was added in the unlooked-for appearance of +his mother on the stage, in a state that seemed one of partial +derangement. The gentleman at whose office I met Mr. Harrison on +the day before--the reader will remember Mr. H. as having come to +the "Sickle and Sheath" in search of his son--was thoroughly +conversant with the affairs of the village, and I called upon him +early in the day in order to make some inquiries about Mrs. +Hammond. My first question, as to whether he knew the lady, was +answered by the remark: + +"Oh, yes. She is one of my earliest friends." + +The allusion to her did not seem to awaken agreeable states of +mind. A slight shade obscured his face, and I noticed that he +sighed involuntarily. + +"Is Willy her only child?" + +"Her only living child. She had four; another son, and two +daughters; but she lost all but Willy when they were quite young. +And," he added, after a pause,--"it would have been better for +her, and for Willy, too, if he had gone to a better land with +them." + +"His course of life must be to her a terrible affliction." said I. + +"It is destroying her reason," he replied, with emphasis, "He was +her idol. No mother ever loved a son with more self-devotion than +Mrs. Hammond loved her beautiful, fine-spirited, intelligent, +affectionate boy. To say that she was proud of him, is but a tame +expression. Intense love--almost idolatry--was the strong passion +of her heart. How tender, how watchful was her love! Except when +at school, he was scarcely ever separated from her. In order to +keep him by her side, she gave up her thoughts to the suggestion +and maturing of plans for keeping his mind active and interested +in her society--and her success was perfect. Up to the age of +sixteen or seventeen, I do not think he had a desire for other +companionship than that of his mother. But this, you know, could +not last. The boy's maturing thought must go beyond the home and +social circle. The great world, that he was soon to enter, was +before him; and through loopholes that opened here and there he +obtained partial glimpses of what was beyond. To step forth into +this world, where he was soon to be a busy actor and worker, and +to step forth alone, next came in the natural order of progress. +How his mother trembled with anxiety, as she saw him leave her +side! Of the dangers that would surround his path, she knew too +well; and these were magnified by her fears--at least so I often +said to her. Alas! how far the sad reality has outrun her most +fearful anticipations. + +"When Willy was eighteen--he was then reading law--I think I never +saw a young man of fairer promise. As I have often heard it +remarked of him, he did not appear to have a single fault. But he +had a dangerous gift--rare conversational powers, united with +great urbanity of manner. Every one who made his acquaintance +became charmed with his society; and he soon found himself +surrounded by a circle of young men, some of whom were not the +best companions he might have chosen. Still, his own pure +instincts and honorable principles were his safeguard; and I never +have believed that any social allurements would have drawn him +away from the right path, if this accursed tavern had not been +opened by Slade." + +"There was a tavern here before the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was +opened?" said I. + +"Oh, yes. But it was badly kept, and the bar-room visitors were of +the lowest class. No respectable young man in Cedarville would +have been seen there. It offered no temptations to one moving in +Willy's circle. But the opening of the 'Sickle and Sheaf' formed a +new era. Judge Hammond--himself not the purest man in the world, +I'm afraid--gave his countenance to the establishment, and talked +of Simon Slade as an enterprising man who ought to be encouraged. +Judge Lyman and other men of position in Cedarville followed his +bad example; and the bar-room of the 'Sickle and Sheaf' was at +once voted respectable. At all times of the day and evening you +could see the flower of our young men going in and out, sitting in +front of the bar-room, or talking hand-and-glove with the +landlord, who, from a worthy miller, regarded as well enough in +his place, was suddenly elevated into a man of importance, whom +the best in the village were delighted to honor. + +"In the beginning, Willy went with the tide, and, in an incredibly +short period, was acquiring a fondness for drink that startled and +alarmed his friends. In going in through Slade's open door, he +entered the downward way, and has been moving onward with fleet +footsteps ever since. The fiery poison inflamed his mind, at the +same time that it dimmed his noble perceptions. Fondness for mere +pleasure followed, and this led him into various sensual +indulgences, and exciting modes of passing the time. Every one +liked him--he was so free, so companionable, and so generous--and +almost every one encouraged, rather than repressed, his dangerous +proclivities. Even his father, for a time, treated the matter +lightly, as only the first flush of young life. 'I commenced +sowing my wild oats at quite as early an age,' I have heard him +say. 'He'll cool off, and do well enough. Never fear.' But his +mother was in a state of painful alarm from the beginning. Her +truer instincts, made doubly acute by her yearning love, perceived +the imminent danger, and in all possible ways did she seek to lure +him from the path in which he was moving at so rapid a pace. Willy +was always very much attached to his mother, and her influence +over him was strong; but in this case he regarded her fears as +chimerical. The way in which he walked was, to him, so pleasant, +and the companions of his journey so delightful, that he could not +believe in the prophesied evil; and when his mother talked to him +in her warning voice, and with a sad countenance, he smiled at her +concern, and made light of her fears. + +"And so it went on, month after month, and year after year, until +the young man's sad declensions were the town talk. In order to +throw his mind into a new channel--to awaken, if possible, a new +and better interest in life--his father ventured upon the doubtful +experiment we spoke of yesterday; that of placing capital in his +hands, and making him an equal partner in the business of +distilling and cotton-spinning. The disastrous--I might say +disgraceful--result you know. The young man squandered his own +capital and heavily embarrassed his father. + +"The effect of all this upon Mrs. Hammond has been painful in the +extreme. We can only dimly imagine the terrible suffering through +which she has passed. Her present aberration was first visible +after a long period of sleeplessness, occasioned by distress of +mind. During the whole of two weeks, I am told, she did not close +her eyes; the most of that time walking the floor of her chamber, +and weeping. Powerful anodynes, frequently repeated, at length +brought relief. But, when she awoke from a prolonged period of +unconsciousness, the brightness of her reason was gone." Since +then, she has never been clearly conscious of what was passing +around her, and well for her, I have sometimes thought it was, for +even obscurity of intellect is a blessing in her case. Ah, me! I +always get the heart-ache, when I think of her." "Did not this +event startle the young man from his fatal dream, if I may so call +his mad infatuation?" I asked. + +"No. He loved his mother, and was deeply afflicted by the +calamity; but it seemed as if he could not stop. Some terrible +necessity appeared to be impelling him onward. If he formed good +resolutions--and I doubt not that he did--they were blown away +like threads of gossamer, the moment he came within the sphere of +old associations. His way to the mill was by the 'Sickle and +Sheaf'; and it was not easy for him to pass there without being +drawn into the bar, either by his own desire for drink, or through +the invitation of some pleasant companion, who was lounging in +front of the tavern." + +"There may have been something even more impelling than his love +of drink," said I. + +"What?" + +I related, briefly, the occurrences of the preceding night. + +"I feared--nay, I was certain--that he was in the toils of this +man! And yet your confirmation of the fact startles and confounds +me," said he, moving about his office in a disturbed manner. "If +my mind has questioned and doubted in regard to young Hammond, it +questions and doubts no longer. The word 'mystery' is not now +written over the door of his habitation. Great Father! and is it +thus that our young men are led into temptation? Thus that their +ruin is premeditated, secured? Thus that the fowler is permitted +to spread his net in the open day, and the destroyer licensed to +work ruin in darkness? It is awful to contemplate!" The man was +strongly excited. + +"Thus it is," he continued; "and we who see the whole extent, +origin, and downward rushing force of a widely sweeping +desolation, lift our voices of warning almost in vain. Men who +have everything at stake--sons to be corrupted, and daughters to +become the wives of young men exposed to corrupting influences-- +stand aloof, questioning and doubting as to the expediency of +protecting the innocent from the wolfish designs of bad men; who, +to compass their own selfish ends, would destroy them body and +soul. We are called fanatics, ultraists, designing, and all that, +because we ask our law-makers to stay the fiery ruin. Oh, no! we +must not touch the traffic. All the dearest and best interests of +society may suffer; but the rum-seller must be protected. He must +be allowed to get gain, if the jails and poorhouses are filled, +and the graveyards made fat with the bodies of young men stricken +down in the flower of their years, and of wives and mothers who +have died of broken hearts. Reform, we are told, must commence at +home. We must rear temperate children, and then we shall have +temperate men. That when there are none to desire liquor, the rum- +seller's traffic will cease. And all the while society's true +benefactors are engaged in doing this, the weak, the unsuspecting, +and the erring must be left an easy prey, even if the work +requires for its accomplishment a hundred years. Sir! a human soul +destroyed through the rum-seller's infernal agency, is a sacrifice +priceless in value. No considerations of worldly gain can, for an +instant, be placed in comparison therewith. And yet souls are +destroyed by thousands every year; and they will fall by tens of +thousands ere society awakens from its fatal indifference, and +lays its strong hand of power on the corrupt men who are +scattering disease, ruin, and death, broadcast over the land! + +"I always get warm on this subject," he added, repressing his +enthusiasm. "And who that observes and reflects can help growing +excited? The evil is appalling; and the indifference of the +community one of the strangest facts of the day." + +While he was yet speaking, the elder Mr. Hammond came in. He +looked wretched. The redness and humidity of his eyes showed want +of sleep, and the relaxed muscles of his face exhaustion from +weariness and suffering. He drew the person with whom I had been +talking aside, and continued an earnest conversation with him for +many minutes--often gesticulating violently. I could see his face, +though I heard nothing of what he said. The play of his features +was painful to look upon, for every changing muscle showed a new +phase of mental suffering. + +"Try and see him, will you not?" he said, as he turned, at length, +to leave the office. + +"I will go there immediately," was answered. + +"Bring him home, if possible." + +"My very best efforts shall be made." + +Judge Hammond bowed and went out hurriedly. + +"Do you know the number of the room occupied by the man Green?" +asked the gentleman, as soon as his visitor had retired. + +"Yes. It is No. 11." + +"Willy has not been home since last night. His father, at this +late day, suspects Green to be a gambler. The truth flashed upon +him only yesterday; and this, added to his other sources of +trouble, is driving him, so he says, almost mad. As a friend, he +wishes me to go to the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' and try and find Willy. +Have you seen any thing of him this morning?" + +I answered in the negative. + +"Nor of Green?" + +"No." + +"Was Slade about when you left the tavern?" + +"I saw nothing of him." + +"What Judge Hammond fears may be all too true--that, in the +present condition of Willy's affairs, which have reached the point +of disaster, his tempter means to secure the largest possible +share of property yet in his power to pledge or transfer,--to +squeeze from his victim the last drop of blood that remains, and +then fling him, ruthlessly, from his hands." + +"The young man must have been rendered almost desperate, or he +would never have returned, as he did, last night. Did you mention +this to his father?" + +"No. It would have distressed him the more, without effecting any +good. He is wretched enough. But time passes, and none is to be +lost now. Will you go with me?" + +I walked to the tavern with him; and we went into the bar +together. Two or three men were at the counter, drinking. + +"Is Mr. Green about this morning?" was asked by the person who had +come in search of young Hammond. + +"Haven't seen any thing of him." + +"Is he in his room?" + +"I don't know." + +"Will you ascertain for me?" + +"Certainly. Frank,"--and he spoke to the landlord's son, who was +lounging on a settee,--"I wish you would see if Mr. Green is in +his room." + +"Go and see yourself. I'm not your waiter," was growled back, in +an ill-natured voice. + +"In a moment I'll ascertain for you," said Matthew, politely. + +After waiting on some new customers, who were just entering, +Matthew went up-stairs to obtain the desired information. As he +left the bar-room, Frank got up and went behind the counter, where +he mixed himself a glass of liquor, and drank it off, evidently +with real enjoyment. + +"Rather a dangerous business for one so young as you are," +remarked the gentleman with whom I had come, as Frank stepped out +of the bar, and passed near where we were standing. The only +answer to this was an ill-natured frown, and an expression of face +which said almost as plainly as words, "It is none of your +business." + +"Not there," said Matthew, now coming in. + +"Are you certain?" + +"Yes, sir." + +But there was a certain involuntary hesitation in the bar-keeper's +manner, which led to a suspicion that his answer was not in +accordance with the truth. We walked out together, conferring on +the subject, and both concluded that his word was not to be relied +upon. + +"What is to be done?" was asked. + +"Go to Green's room," I replied, "and knock at the door. If he is +there, he may answer, not suspecting your errand." + +"Show me the room." + +I went up with him, and pointed out No. 11. He knocked lightly, +but there came no sound from within. He repeated the knock; all +was silent. Again and again he knocked, but there came back only a +hollow reverberation. + +"There's no one there," said he, returning to where I stood, and +we walked down-stairs together. On the landing, as we reached the +lower passage, we met Mrs. Slade. I had not, during this visit at +Cedarville, stood face to face with her before. Oh! what a wreck +she presented, with her pale, shrunken countenance, hollow, +lustreless eyes, and bent, feeble body. I almost shuddered as I +looked at her. What a haunting and sternly rebuking spectre she +must have moved, daily, before the eyes of her husband. + +"Have you noticed Mr. Green about this morning"?" I asked. + +"He hasn't come down from his room yet," she replied. + +"Are you certain?" said my companion. "I knocked several times at +the door just now, but received no answer." + +"What do you want with him?" asked Mrs. Slade, fixing her eyes +upon us. + +"We are in search of Willy Hammond; and it has been suggested that +he was with Green." + +"Knock twice lightly, and then three times more firmly," said Mrs. +Slade; and as she spoke, she glided past us with noiseless tread. + +"Shall we go up together?" + +I did not object; for, although I had no delegated right of +intrusion, my feelings were so much excited in the case, that I +went forward, scarcely reflecting on the propriety of so doing. + +The signal knock found instant answer. The door was softly opened, +and the unshaven face of Simon Slade presented itself. + +"Mr. Jacobs!" he said, with surprise in his tones. "Do you wish to +see me?" + +"No, sir; I wish to see Mr. Green," and with a quick, firm +pressure against the door, he pushed it wide open. The same party +was there that I had seen on the night before,--Green, young +Hammond, Judge Lyman, and Slade. On the table at which the three +former were sitting, were cards, slips of paper, an ink-stand and +pens, and a pile of bank-notes. On a side-table, or, rather, +butler's tray, were bottles, decanters, and glasses. + +"Judge Lyman! Is it possible?" exclaimed Mr. Jacobs, the name of +my companion. "I did not expect to find you here." + +Green instantly swept his hands over the table to secure the money +and bills it contained; but, ere he had accomplished his purpose, +young Hammond grappled three or four narrow strips of paper, and +hastily tore them into shreds. + +"You're a cheating scoundrel!" cried Green, fiercely, thrusting +his hand into his bosom as if to draw from thence a weapon; but +the words were scarcely uttered, ere Hammond sprung upon him with +the fierceness of a tiger, bearing him down upon the floor. Both +hands were already about the gambler's neck, and, ere the +bewildered spectators could interfere, and drag him off. Green was +purple in the face, and nearly strangled. + +"Call me a cheating scoundrel!" said Hammond, foaming at the +mouth, as he spoke,--"Me, whom you have followed like a thirsty +blood-hound. Me! whom you have robbed, and cheated, and debased +from the beginning! Oh! for a pistol to rid the earth of the +blackest-hearted villain that walks its surface. Let me go, +gentlemen! I have nothing left in the world to care for,--there is +no consequence I fear. Let me do society one good service before T +die'" + +And, with one vigorous effort, he swept himself clear of the hands +that were pinioning him, and sprung again upon the gambler with +the fierce energy of a savage beast. By this time, Green had got +his knife free from its sheath, and, as Hammond was closing upon +him in his blind rage, plunged it into his side. Quick almost as +lightning, the knife was withdrawn, and two more stabs inflicted +ere we could seize and disarm the murderer. As we did so, Willy +Hammond fell over with a deep groan, the blood flowing from his +side. + +In the terror and excitement that followed, Green rushed from the +room. The doctor, who was instantly summoned, after carefully +examining the wound, and the condition of the unhappy young man, +gave it as his opinion that he was fatally injured. + +Oh! the anguish of the father, who had quickly heard of the +dreadful occurrence, when this announcement was made. I never saw +such fearful agony in any human countenance. The calmest of all +the anxious group was Willy himself. On his father's face his eyes +were fixed as if by a kind of fascination. + +"Are you in much pain, my poor boy!" sobbed the old man, stooping +over him, until his long white hair mingled with the damp locks of +the sufferer. + +"Not much, father," was the whispered reply. "Don't speak of this +to mother, yet. I'm afraid it will kill her." + +What could the father answer? Nothing! And he was silent. + +"Does she know of it?" A shadow went over his face. + +Mr. Hammond shook his head. + +Yet, even as he spoke, a wild cry of distress was heard below. +Some indiscreet person had borne to the ears of the mother the +fearful news about her son, and she had come wildly flying toward +the tavern, and was just entering. + +"It is my poor mother," said Willy, a flush coming into his pale +face. "Who could have told her of this?" + +Mr. Hammond started for the door, but ere he had reached it, the +distracted mother entered. + +"Oh! Willy, my boy! my boy!" she exclaimed, in tones of anguish +that made the heart shudder. And she crouched down on the floor, +the moment she reached the bed whereon he lay, and pressed her +lips--oh, so tenderly and lovingly!--to his. + +"Dear mother! Sweet mother! Best of mothers!" He even smiled as he +said this; and, into the face now bent over him, looked up with +glances of unutterable fondness. + +"Oh, Willy! Willy! Willy! my son, my son!" And again her lips were +laid closely to his. + +Mr. Hammond now interfered, and endeavored to remove his wife, +fearing for the consequence upon his son. + +"Don't, father!" said Willy; "let her remain. I am not excited nor +disturbed. I am glad that she is here, now. It will be best for us +both." + +"You must not excite him, dear," said Mr. Hammond--"he is very +weak." + +"I'll not excite him," answered the mother. "I'll not speak a +word. There, love"--and she laid her fingers softly upon the lips +of her son--"don't speak a single word." + +For only a few moments did she sit with the quiet formality of a +nurse, who feels how much depends on the repose of her patient. +Then she began weeping, moaning, and wringing her hands. + +"Mother!" The feeble voice of Willy stilled, instantly, the +tempest of feeling. "Mother, kiss me!" + +She bent down and kissed him. + +"Are you there, mother?" His eyes moved about, with a straining +motion. + +"Yes, love, here I am." + +"I don't see you, mother. It's getting so dark. Oh, mother! +mother!" he shouted suddenly, starting up and throwing himself +forward upon her bosom--"save me! save me!" + +How quickly did the mother clasp her arms around him--how eagerly +did she strain him to her bosom! The doctor, fearing the worst +consequences, now came forward, and endeavored to release the arms +of Mrs. Hammond, but she resisted every attempt to do so. + +"I will save you, my son," she murmured in the ear of the young +man. "Your mother will protect you. Oh! if you had never left her +side, nothing on earth could have done you harm." + +"He is dead!" I heard the doctor whisper; and a thrill of horror +went through me. The words reached the ears of Mr. Hammond, and +his groan was one of almost mortal agony. + +"Who says he is dead?" came sharply from the lips of the mother, +as she pressed the form of her child back upon the bed from which +he had sprung to her arms, and looked wildly upon his face. One +long scream of horror told of her convictions, and she fell, +lifeless, across the body of her dead son! + +All in the room believed that Mrs. Hammond had only fainted. But +the doctor's perplexed, troubled countenance, as he ordered her +carried into another apartment, and the ghastliness of her face +when it was upturned to the light, suggested to every one what +proved to be true. Even to her obscured perceptions, the +consciousness that her son was dead came with a terrible +vividness--so terrible, that it extinguished her life. + +Like fire among dry stubble ran the news of this fearful event +through Cedarville. The whole town was wild with excitement. The +prominent fact, that Willy Hammond had been murdered by Green, +whose real profession was known by many, and now declared to all, +was on every tongue; but a hundred different and exaggerated +stories as to the cause and the particulars of the event were in +circulation. By the time preparations to remove the dead bodies of +mother and son from the "Sickle and Sheaf" to the residence of Mr. +Hammond were completed, hundreds of people, men, women, and +children, were assembled around the tavern and many voices were +clamorous for Green; while some called out for Judge Lyman, whose +name, it thus appeared, had become associated in the minds of the +people with the murderous affair. The appearance, in the midst of +this excitement, of the two dead bodies, borne forth on settees, +did not tend to allay the feverish state of indignation that +prevailed. From more than one voice, I heard the words, "Lynch the +scoundrel!" + +A part of the crowd followed the sad procession, while the greater +portion, consisting of men, remained about the tavern. All bodies, +no matter for what purpose assembled, quickly find leading spirits +who, feeling the great moving impulse, give it voice and +direction. It was so in this case. Intense indignation against +Green was firing every bosom; and when a man elevated himself a +few feet above the agitated mass of humanity, and cried out: + +"The murderer must not escape!" + +A wild responding shout, terrible in its fierceness, made the air +quiver. + +"Let ten men be chosen to search the house and premises," said the +leading spirit. + +"Ay! ay! Choose them! Name them!" was quickly answered. + +Ten men were called by name, who instantly stepped in front of the +crowd. + +"Search everywhere; from garret to cellar; from hayloft to dog- +kennel. Everywhere! everywhere!" cried the man. + +And instantly the ten men entered the house. For nearly a quarter +of an hour, the crowd waited with increasing signs of impatience. +These delegates at length appeared, with the announcement that +Green was nowhere about the premises. It was received with a +groan. + +"Let no man in Cedarville do a stroke of work until the murderer +is found," now shouted the individual who still occupied his +elevated position. + +"Agreed! agreed! No work in Cedarville until the murderer is +found," rang out fiercely. + +"Let all who have horses saddle and bridle them as quickly as +possible, and assemble, mounted, at the Court House." + +About fifty men left the crowd hastily. + +"Let the crowd part in the centre, up and down the road, starting +from a line in front of me." + +This order was obeyed. + +"Separate again, taking the centre of the road for a line." + +Four distinct bodies of men stood now in front of the tavern. + +"Now search for the murderer in every nook and corner, for a +distance of three miles from this spot; each party keeping to its +own section; the road being one dividing line, and a line through +the centre of this tavern the other. The horsemen will pursue the +wretch to a greater distance." + +More than a hundred acquiescing voices responded to this, as the +man sprung down from his elevation and mingled with the crowd, +which began instantly to move away on its appointed mission. + +As the hours went by, one, and another, and another, of the +searching party returned to the village, wearied with their +efforts, or confident that the murderer had made good his escape. +The horsemen, too, began to come in, during the afternoon, and by +sundown, the last of them, worn out and disappointed, made their +appearance. + +For hours after the exciting events of the forenoon, there were +but few visitors at the "Sickle and Sheaf." Slade, who did not +show himself among the crowd, came down soon after its dispersion. +He had shaved and put on clean linen; but still bore many +evidences of a night spent without sleep. His eyes were red and +heavy and the eyelids swollen; while his skin was relaxed and +colorless. As he descended the stairs, I was walking in the +passage. He looked shy at me, and merely nodded. Guilt was written +plainly on his countenance; and with it was blended anxiety and +alarm. That he might be involved in trouble, he had reason to +fear; for he was one of the party engaged in gambling in Green's +room, as both Mr. Jacobs and I had witnessed. + +"This is dreadful business," said he, as we met, face to face, +half an hour afterward. He did not look me steadily in the eyes. + +"It is horrible!" I answered. "To corrupt and ruin a young man, +and then murder him! There are few deeds in the catalogue of crime +blacker than this!" + +"It was done in the heat of passion," said the landlord, with +something of an apology in his manner. "Green never meant to kill +him." + +"In peaceful intercourse with his fellow-men, why did he carry a +deadly weapon? There was murder in his heart, sir." + +"That is speaking very strongly." + +"Not stronger than the facts will warrant," I replied. "That Green +is a murderer in heart, it needed not this awful consummation to +show. With a cool, deliberate purpose, he has sought, from the +beginning, to destroy young Hammond." + +"It is hardly fair," answered Slade, "in the present feverish +excitement against Green, to assume such a questionable position. +It may do him a great wrong." + +"Did Willy Hammond speak only idle words, when he accused Green of +having followed him like a thirsty bloodhound?--of having robbed, +and cheated, and debased him from the beginning?" + +"He was terribly excited at the moment." + +"Yes," said I, "no ear that heard his words could for an instant +doubt that they were truthful utterances, wrung from a maddened +heart." + +My earnest, positive manner had its effect upon Slade. He knew +that what I asserted, the whole history of Green's intercourse +with young Hammond would prove; and he had, moreover, the guilty +consciousness of being a party to the young man's ruin. His eyes +cowered beneath the steady gaze I fixed upon him. I thought of him +as one implicated in the murder, and my thoughts must have been +visible in my face. + +"One murder will not justify another," said he. + +"There is no justification for murder on any plea," was my +response. + +"And yet, if these infuriated men find Green, they will murder +him." + +"I hope not. Indignation at a horrible crime has fearfully excited +the people. But I think their sense of justice is strong enough to +prevent the consequences you apprehend." + +"I would not like to be in Green's shoes," said the landlord, with +an uneasy movement. + +I looked him closely in the face. It was the punishment of the +man's crime that seemed so fearful in his eyes; not the crime +itself. Alas! how the corrupting traffic had debased him. + +My words were so little relished by Slade, that he found some +ready excuse to leave me. I saw little more of him during the day. + +As evening began to fall, the gambler's unsuccessful pursuers, one +after another, found their way to the tavern, and by the time +night had fairly closed in, the bar-room was crowded with excited +and angry men, chafing over their disappointment, and loud in +their threats of vengeance. That Green had made good his escape, +was now the general belief; and the stronger this conviction +became, the more steadily did the current of passion begin to set +in a new direction. It had become known to every one that, besides +Green and young Hammond, Judge Lyman and Slade were in the room +engaged in playing cards. The merest suggestion as to the +complicity of these two men with Green in ruining Hammond, and +thus driving him mad, was enough to excite strong feelings against +them; and now that the mob had been cheated out of its victim, its +pent-up indignation sought eagerly some new channel. + +"Where's Slade?" some one asked, in a loud voice, from the centre +of the crowded bar-room. "Why does he keep himself out of sight?" + +"Yes; where's the landlord?" half a dozen voices responded. + +"Did he go on the hunt?" some one inquired. + +"No!" "No!" "No!" ran around the room. "Not he." + +"And yet, the murder was committed in his own house, and before +his own eyes!" + +"Yes, before his own eyes!" repeated one and another, indignantly. + +"Where's Slade? Where's the landlord? Has anybody seen him +tonight? Matthew, where's Simon Slade?" + +From lip to lip passed these interrogations; while the crowd of +men became agitated, and swayed to and fro. + +"I don't think he's home," answered the bar-keeper, in a +hesitating manner, and with visible alarm. + +"How long since he was here?" + +"I haven't seen him for a couple of hours." + +"That's a lie!" was sharply said. + +"Who says it's a lie?" Matthew affected to be strongly indignant. + +"I do!" And a rough, fierce-looking man confronted him. + +"What right have you to say so?" asked Matthew, cooling off +considerably. + +"Because you lie!" said the man, boldly. "You've seen him within a +less time than half an hour, and well you know it. Now, if you +wish to keep yourself out of this trouble, answer truly. We are in +no mood to deal with liars or equivocators. Where is Simon Slade?" + +"I do not know," replied Matthew, firmly. + +"Is he in the house?" + +"He may be, or he may not be. I am just as ignorant of his exact +whereabouts as you are." + +"Will you look for him?" + +Matthew stepped to the door, opening from behind the bar, and +called the name of Frank. + +"What's wanted?" growled the boy. + +"Is your father in the house?" + +"I don't know, nor don't care," was responded in the same +ungracious manner. + +"Someone bring him into the bar-room, and we'll see if we can't +make him care a little." + +The suggestion was no sooner made, than two men glided behind the +bar, and passed into the room from whence the voice of Frank had +issued. A moment after they reappeared, each grasping an arm of +the boy, and bearing him like a weak child between them. He looked +thoroughly frightened at this unlooked-for invasion of his +liberty. + +"See here, young man." One of the leading spirits of the crowd +addressed him, as soon as he was brought in front of the counter. +"If you wish to keep out of trouble, answer our questions at once, +and to the point. We are in no mood for trifling. Where's your +father?" + +"Somewhere about the house, I believe," Frank replied, in an +humble tone. He was no little scared at the summary manner with +which he had been treated. + +"How long since you saw him?" + +"Not long ago." + +"Ten minutes." + +"No; nearly half an hour." + +"Where was he then?" + +"He was going up-stairs." + +"Very well, we want him. See him, and tell him so." + +Frank went into the house, but came back into the bar-room after +an absence of nearly five minutes, and said that he could not find +his father anywhere. + +"Where is he then?" was angrily demanded. + +"Indeed, gentlemen, I don't know." Frank's anxious look and +frightened manner showed that he spoke truly. + +"There's something wrong about this--something wrong--wrong," said +one of the men. "Why should he be absent now? Why has he taken no +steps to secure the man who committed a murder in his own house, +and before his own eyes? + +"I shouldn't wonder if he aided him to escape," said another, +making this serious charge with a restlessness and want of +evidence that illustrated the reckless and unjust spirit by which +the mob is ever governed. + +"No doubt of it in the least!" was the quick and positive +response. And at once this erroneous conviction seized upon every +one. Not a single fact was presented. The simple, bold assertion, +that no doubt existed in the mind of one man as to Slade's having +aided Green to escape, was sufficient for the unreflecting mob. + +"Where is he? Where is he? Let us find him. He knows where Green +is, and he shall reveal the secret." + +This was enough. The passions of the crowd were at fever heat +again. Two or three men were chosen to search the house and +premises, while others dispersed to take a wider range. One of the +men who volunteered to go over the house was a person named Lyon, +with whom I had formed some acquaintance, and several times +conversed with on the state of affairs in Cedarville. He still +remained too good a customer at the bar. I left the bar at the +same time that he did, and went up to my room. We walked side by +side, and parted at my door, I going in, and he continuing on to +make his searches. I felt, of course, anxious and much excited, as +well in consequence of the events of the day, as the present +aspect of things. My head was aching violently, and in the hope of +getting relief, I laid myself down. I had already lighted a +candle, and turned the key in my door to prevent intrusion. Only +for a short time did I lie, listening to the hum of voices that +came with a hoarse murmur from below, to the sound of feet moving +along the passages, and to the continual opening and shutting of +doors, when something like suppressed breathing reached my ears, I +started up instantly, and listened; but my quickened pulses were +now audible to my own sense, and obscured what was external. + +"It is only imagination," I said to myself. Still, I sat upright, +listening. + +Satisfied, at length, that all was mere fancy, I laid myself back +on the pillow, and tried to turn my thoughts away from the +suggested idea that some one was in the room. Scarcely had I +succeeded in this, when my heart gave a new impulse, as a sound +like a movement fell upon my ears. + +"Mere fancy!" I said to myself, as some one went past the door at +the moment. "My mind is overexcited." + +Still I raised my head, supporting it with my hand, and listened, +directing my attention inside, and not outside of the room. I was +about letting my head fall back upon the pillow, when a slight +cough, so distinct as not to be mistaken, caused me to spring to +the floor, and look under the bed. The mystery was explained. A +pair of eyes glittered in the candlelight. The fugitive, Green, +was under my bed. For some moments I stood looking at him, so +astonished that I had neither utterance nor decision; while he +glared at me with a fierce defiance. I saw that he was clutching a +revolver. + +"Understand!" he said, in a grating whisper, "that I am not to be +taken alive." + +I let the blanket, which had concealed him from view, fall from my +hand, and then tried to collect my thoughts. + +"Escape is impossible," said I, again lifting the temporary +curtain by which he was hid. "The whole town is armed, and on the +search; and should you fall into the hands of the mob, in its +present state of exasperation, your life would not be safe an +instant. Remain, then, quiet, where you are, until I can see the +sheriff, to whom you had better resign yourself, for there's +little chance for you except under his protection." + +After a brief parley he consented that things should take this +course, and I went out, locking the room door after me, and +started in search of the sheriff. On the information I gave, the +sheriff acted promptly. With five officers, fully armed for +defence, in case an effort were made to get the prisoner out of +their hands, he repaired immediately to the "Sickle and Sheaf." I +had given the key of my room into his possession. + +The appearance of the sheriff, with his posse, was sufficient to +start the suggestion that Green was somewhere concealed in the +house; and a suggestion was only needed to cause the fact to be +assumed, and unhesitatingly declared. Intelligence went through +the reassembling crowd like an electric current, and ere the +sheriff could manacle and lead forth his prisoner, the stairway +down which he had to come was packed with bodies, and echoing with +oaths and maledictions. + +"Gentlemen, clear the way!" cried the sheriff, as he appeared with +the white and trembling culprit at the head of the stairs. "The +murderer is now in the hands of the law, and will meet the sure +consequences of his crime." + +A shout of execration rent the air; but not a single individual +stirred. + +"Give way, there! Give way!" And the sheriff took a step or two +forward, but the prisoner held back. + +"Oh, the murdering villain! The cursed blackleg! Where's Willy +Hammond?" was heard distinctly above the confused mingling of +voices. + +"Gentlemen! the law must have its course; and no good citizen will +oppose the law. It is made for your protection--for mine--and for +that of the prisoner." + +"Lynch law is good enough for him," shouted a savage voice. "Hand +him over to us, sheriff, and we'll save you the trouble of hanging +him, and the county the cost of the gallows. We'll do the business +right." + +Five men, each armed with a revolver, now ranged themselves around +the sheriff, and the latter said firmly: + +"It is my duty to see this man safely conveyed to prison; and I'm +going to do my duty. If there is any more blood shed here, the +blame will rest with you." And the body of officers pressed +forward, the mob slowly retreating before them. + +Green, overwhelmed with terror, held back. I was standing where I +could see his face. It was ghastly with mortal fear. Grasping his +pinioned arms, the sheriff forced him onward. After contending +with the crowd for nearly ten minutes, the officers gained the +passage below; but the mob was denser here, and blocking up the +door, resolutely maintained their position. + +Again and again the sheriff appealed to the good sense and justice +of the people. + +"The prisoner will have to stand a trial and the law will execute +sure vengeance." + +"No, it won't!" was sternly responded. + +"Who'll be judge in the case?" was asked. + +"Why, Judge Lyman!" was contemptuously answered. + +"A blackleg himself!" was shouted by two or three voices. + +"Blackleg judge, and blackleg lawyers! Oh, yes! The law will +execute sure vengeance! Who was in the room gambling with Green +and Hammond?" + +"Judge Lyman!" "Judge Lyman!" was answered back. + +"It won't do, sheriff! There's no law in the country to reach the +case but Lynch law; and that the scoundrel must have. Give him to +us!" + +"Never! On, men, with the prisoner!" cried the sheriff resolutely, +and the posse made a rush toward the door, bearing back the +resisting and now infuriated crowd. Shouts, cries, oaths, and +savage imprecations blended in wild discord; in the midst of which +my blood was chilled by the sharp crack of a pistol. Another and +another shot followed; and then, as a cry of pain thrilled the +air, the fierce storm hushed its fury in an instant. + +"Who's shot? Is he killed?" + +There was a breathless eagerness for the answer. + +"It's the gambler!" was replied. "Somebody has shot Green." + +A low muttered invective against the victim was heard here and +there; but the announcement was not received with a shout of +exultation, though there was scarcely a heart that did not feel +pleasure at the sacrifice of Harvey Green's life. + +It was true as had been declared. Whether the shot were aimed +deliberately, or guided by an unseen hand to the heart of the +gambler, was never known; nor did the most careful examination, +instituted afterward by the county, elicit any information that +even directed suspicion toward the individual who became the agent +of his death. + +At the coroner's inquest, held over the dead body of Harvey Green, +Simon Slade was present. Where he had concealed himself while the +mob were in search of him, was not known. He looked haggard; and +his eyes were anxious and restless. Two murders in his house, +occurring in a single day, were quite enough to darken his +spirits; and the more so, as his relations with both the victims +were not of a character to awaken any thing but self-accusation. + +As for the mob, in the death of Green its eager thirst for +vengeance was satisfied. Nothing more was said against Slade, as a +participator in the ruin and death of young Hammond. The popular +feeling was one of pity rather than indignation toward the +landlord; for it was seen that he was deeply troubled. + +One thing I noticed, and it was that the drinking at the bar was +not suspended for a moment. A large proportion of those who made +up the crowd of Green's angry pursuers were excited by drink as +well as indignation, and I am very sure that, but for the +maddening effects of liquor, the fatal shot would never have been +fired. After the fearful catastrophe, and when every mind was +sobered, or ought to have been sobered, the crowd returned to the +bar-room, where the drinking was renewed. So rapid were the calls +for liquor, that both Matthew and Frank, the landlord's son, were +kept busy mixing the various compounds demanded by the thirsty +customers. + +From the constant stream of human beings that flowed toward the +"Sickle and Sheaf," after the news of Green's discovery and death +went forth, it seemed as if every man and boy within a distance of +two or three miles had received intelligence of the event. Few, +very, of those who came, but went first into the bar-room; and +nearly all who entered the bar-room called for liquor. In an hour +after the death of Green, the fact that his dead body was laid out +in the room immediately adjoining, seemed utterly to pass from the +consciousness of every one in the bar. The calls for liquor were +incessant; and, as the excitement of drink increased, voices grew +louder, and oaths more plentiful, while the sounds of laughter +ceased not for an instant. + +"They're giving him a regular Irish wake," I heard remarked, with +a brutal laugh. + +I turned to the speaker, and, to my great surprise, saw that it +was Judge Lyman, more under the influence of drink than I +remembered to have seen him. He was about the last man I expected +to find here. If he knew of the strong indignation expressed +toward him a little while before, by some of the very men now +excited with liquor, his own free drinking had extinguished fear. + +"Yes, curse him!" was the answer. "If they have a particularly hot +corner 'away down below,' I hope he's made its acquaintance before +this." + +"Most likely he's smelled brimstone," chuckled the judge. + +"Smelled it! If old Clubfoot hasn't treated him with a brimstone- +bath long before this, he hasn't done his duty. If I thought as +much, I'd vote for sending his majesty a remonstrance forthwith." + +"Ha! ha!" laughed the judge. "You're warm on the subject." + +"Ain't I? The blackleg scoundrel! Hell's too good for him." + +"H-u-s-h! Don't let your indignation run into profanity," said +Judge Lyman, trying to assume a serious air; but the muscles of +his face but feebly obeyed his will's feeble effort. + +"Profanity! Poh! I don't call that profanity. It's only speaking +out in meeting, as they say,--it's only calling black, black--and +white, white. You believe in a hell, don't you, judge?" + +"I suppose there is one; though I don't know very certain." + +"You'd better be certain!" said the other, meaningly. + +"Why so?" + +"Oh! because if there is one, and you don't cut your cards a +little differently, you'll be apt to find it at the end of your +journey." + +"What do you mean by that?" asked the judge, retreating somewhat +into himself, and trying to look dignified. + +"Just what I say," was unhesitatingly answered. + +"Do you mean to insinuate any thing?" asked the judge, whose brows +were beginning to knit themselves. + +"Nobody thinks you a saint," replied the man, roughly. + +"I never professed to be." + +"And it is said"--the man fixed his gaze almost insultingly upon +Judge Lyman's face--"that you'll get about as hot a corner in the +lower regions as is to be found there, whenever you make the +journey in that direction." + +"You are insolent!" exclaimed the judge, his face becoming +inflamed. + +"Take care what you say, sir!" The man spoke threateningly. + +"You'd better take care what YOU say." + +"So I will," replied the other. "But--" + +"What's to pay here?" inquired a third party, coming up at the +moment, and interrupting the speaker. + +"The devil will be to pay," said Judge Lyman, "if somebody don't +look out sharp." + +"Do you mean that for me, ha?" The man, between whom and himself +this slight contention had so quickly sprung up, began stripping +back his coat sleeves, like one about to commence boxing. + +"I mean it for anybody who presumes to offer me an insult." + +The raised voices of the two men now drew toward them the +attention of every one in the bar-room. + +"The devil! There's Judge Lyman!" I heard some one exclaim, in a +tone of surprise. + +"Wasn't he in the room with Green when Willy Hammond was +murdered?" asked another. + +"Yes, he was; and what's more, it is said he had been playing +against him all night, he and Green sharing the plunder." + +This last remark came distinctly to the ears of Lyman, who started +to his feet instantly, exclaiming fiercely: + +"Whoever says that is a cursed liar!" + +The words were scarcely out of his mouth, before a blow staggered +him against the wall, near which he was standing. Another blow +felled him, and then his assailant sprang over his prostrate body, +kicking him, and stamping upon his face and breast in the most +brutal, shocking manner. + +"Kill him! He's worse than Green!" somebody cried out, in a voice +so full of cruelty and murder that it made my blood curdle. +"Remember Willy Hammond!" + +The terrible scene that followed, in which were heard a confused +mingling of blows, cries, yells, and horrible oaths, continued for +several minutes, and ceased only when the words--"Don't, don't +strike him any more! He's dead!" were repeated several times. Then +the wild strife subsided. As the crowd parted from around the body +of Judge Lyman, and gave way, I caught a single glance at his +face. It was covered with blood, and every feature seemed to have +been literally trampled down, until all was a level surface! +Sickened at the sight, I passed hastily from the room into the +open air, and caught my breath several times, before respiration +again went on freely. As I stood in front of the tavern, the body +of Judge Lyman was borne out by three or four men, and carried off +in the direction of his dwelling. + +"Is he dead?" I inquired of those who had him in charge. + +"No," was the answer. "He's not dead, but terribly beaten," and +they passed on. + +Again the loud voices of men in angry strife arose in the bar- +room. I did not return there to learn the cause, or to witness the +fiend-like conduct of the men, all whose worst passions were +stimulated by drink into the wildest fervor. As I was entering my +room, the thought flashed through my mind that, as Green was found +there, it needed only the bare suggestion that I had aided in his +concealment, to direct toward me the insane fury of the drunken +mob. + +"It is not safe to remain here." I said this to myself, with the +emphasis of a strong internal conviction. + +Against this, my mind opposed a few feeble arguments; but the more +I thought of the matter, the more clearly did I become satisfied, +that to attempt to pass the night in that room was to me a risk it +was not prudent to assume. + +So I went in search of Mrs. Slade, to ask her to have another room +prepared for me. But she was not in the house; and I learned, upon +inquiry, that since the murder of young Hammond, she had been +suffering from repeated hysterical and fainting fits, and was now, +with her daughter, at the house of a relative, whither she had +been carried early in the afternoon. + +It was on my lip to request the chambermaid to give me another +room; but this I felt to be scarcely prudent, for if the popular +indignation should happen to turn toward me, the servant would be +the one questioned, most likely, as to where I had removed my +quarters. + +"It isn't safe to stay in the house," said I, speaking to myself. +"Two, perhaps three, murders have been committed already. The +tiger's thirst for blood has been stimulated, and who can tell how +quickly he may spring again, or in what direction?" + +Even while I said this, there came up from the bar-room louder and +madder shouts. Then blows were heard, mingled with cries and +oaths. A shuddering sense of danger oppressed me, and I went +hastily down-stairs, and out into the street. As I gained the +passage, I looked into the sitting-room, where the body of Green +was laid out. Just then, the bar-room door was burst open by a +fighting party, who had been thrown, in their fierce contention, +against it. I paused only for a moment or two; and even in that +brief period of time, saw blows exchanged over the dead body of +the gambler! + +"This is no place for me," I said, almost aloud, and hurried from +the house, and took my way to the residence of a gentleman who had +shown me many kind nesses during my visits at Cedarville. There +was needed scarcely a word of representation on my part, to secure +the cordial tender of a bed. + +What a change! It seemed almost like a passage from Pandemonium to +a heavenly region, as I seated myself alone in the quiet chamber a +cheerful hospitality had assigned me, and mused on the exciting +and terrible incidents of the day. They that sow the wind shall +reap the whirlwind. How marked had been the realization of this +prophecy, couched in such strong but beautiful imagery! + +On the next day I was to leave Cedarville. Early in the morning I +repaired to the "Sickle and Sheaf." The storm was over, and all +was calm and silent as desolation. Hours before, the tempest had +subsided; but the evidences left behind of its ravaging fury were +fearful to look upon. Doors, chairs, windows, and table's were +broken, and even the strong brass rod that ornamented the bar had +been partially wrenched from its fastenings by strong hands, under +an impulse of murder, that only lacked a weapon to execute its +fiendish purpose. Stains of blood, in drops, marks, and even +dried-up pools, were to be seen all over the bar-room and passage +floors, and in many places on the porch. + +In the sitting-room still lay the body of Green. Here, too, were +many signs to indicate a fierce struggle. The looking-glass was +smashed to a hundred pieces, and the shivered fragments lay yet +untouched upon the floor. A chair, which it was plain had been +used as a weapon of assault, had two of its legs broken short off, +and was thrown into a corner. And even the bearers on which the +dead man lay were pushed from their true position, showing that +even in its mortal sleep, the body of Green had felt the jarring +strife of elements he had himself helped to awaken into mad +activity. From his face, the sheet had been drawn aside; but no +hand ventured to replace it; and there it lay, in its ghastly +paleness, exposed to the light, and covered with restless flies, +attracted by the first faint odors of putridity. With gaze +averted, I approached the body, and drew the covering decently +over it. + +No person was in the bar. I went out into the stable-yard, where I +met the hostler with his head bound up. There was a dark blue +circle around one of his eyes, and an ugly-looking red scar on his +cheek. + +"Where is Mr. Slade?" I inquired. + +"In bed, and likely to keep it for a week," was answered. + +"How comes that?" + +"Naturally enough. There was fighting all around last night, and +he had to come in for a share. The fool! If he'd just held his +tongue, he might have come out of it with a whole skin. But, when +the rum is in, the wit is out, with him. It's cost me a black eye +and a broken head; for how could I stand by and see him murdered +outright?" + +"Is he very badly injured?" + +"I rather think he is. One eye is clean gone." + +"Oh, shocking!" + +"It's shocking enough, and no mistake." + +"Lost an eye?" + +"Too true, sir. The doctor saw him this morning, and says the eye +was fairly gouged out, and broken up. In fact, when we carried him +upstairs for dead, last night, his eye was lying upon his cheek. I +pushed it back with my own hand!" + +"Oh, horrible!" The relation made me sick. "Is he otherwise much +injured?" + +"The doctor thinks there are some bad hurts inside. Why, they +kicked and trampled upon him, as if he had been a wild beast! I +never saw such a pack of blood-thirsty devils in my life!" + +"So much for rum," said I. + +"Yes, sir; so much for rum," was the emphatic response. "It was +the rum, and nothing else. Why, some of the very men who acted the +most like tigers and devils, are as harmless persons as you will +find in Cedarville when sober. Yes, sir; it was the rum, and +nothing else. Rum gave me this broken head and black eye." + +"So you had been drinking also?" + +"Oh, yes. There's no use in denying that." + +"Liquor does you harm." + +"Nobody knows that better than I do." + +"Why do you drink, then?" + +"Oh, just because it comes in the way. Liquor is under my eyes and +nose all the time, and it's as natural as breathing to take a +little now and then. And when I don't think of it myself, somebody +will think of it for me, and say--'Come, Sam, let's take +something.' So, you see, for a body such as I am, there isn't much +help for it." + +"But ain't you afraid to go on in this way? Don't you know where +it will all end?" + +"Just as well as anybody. It will make an end of me or--of all +that is good in me. Rum and ruin, you know, sir. They go together +like twin brothers." + +"Why don't you get out of the way of temptation?" said I. + +"It's easy enough to ask that question, sir; but how am I to get +out of the way of temptation? Where shall I go, and not find a bar +in my road, and somebody to say--'Come, Sam, let's take a drink'? +It can't be done, sir, nohow. I'm a hostler, and I don't know how +to be anything else." + +"Can't you work on a farm?" + +"Yes; I can do something in that way. But, when there are taverns +and bar-rooms, as many as three or four in every mile all over the +country, how are you to keep clear of them? Figure me out that." + +"I think you'd better vote on the Maine Law side at next +election," said I. + +"Faith, and I did it last time!" replied the man, with a +brightening face--"and if I'm spared, I'll go the same ticket next +year." + +"What do you think of the Law?" I asked. + +"Think of it! Bless your heart! if I was a praying man, which I'm +sorry to say I ain't--my mother was a pious woman, sir"--his voice +fell and slightly trembled--"if I was a praying man, sir, I'd +pray, night and morning, and twenty times every day of my life, +for God to put it into the hearts of the people to give us that +Law. I'd have some hope then. But I haven't much as it is. There's +no use in trying to let liquor alone." + +"Do many drinking men think as you do?" + +"I can count up a dozen or two myself. It isn't the drinking men +who are so much opposed to the Maine Law as your politicians. They +throw dust in the people's eyes about it, and make a great many, +who know nothing at all of the evils of drinking in themselves, +believe some bugbear story about trampling on the rights of I +don't know who, nor they either. As for rum-sellers' rights, I +never could see any right they had to get rich by ruining poor +devils such as I am. I think, though, that we have some right to +be protected against them." + +The ringing of a bell here announced the arrival of some traveler, +and the hostler left me. + +I learned, during the morning, that Matthew, the bar-keeper, and +also the son of Mr. Slade, were both considerably hurt during the +affrays in the bar-room, and were confined, temporarily, to their +beds. Mrs. Slade still continued in a distressing and dangerous +state. Judge Lyman, though shockingly injured, was not thought to +be in a critical condition. + +A busy day the sheriff had of it, making arrests of various +parties engaged in the last night's affairs. Even Slade, unable as +he was to lift his head from his pillow, was required to give +heavy bail for his appearance at court. Happily, I escaped the +inconvenience of being held to appear as a witness, and early in +the afternoon had the satisfaction of finding myself rapidly borne +away in the stage-coach. It was two years before I entered the +pleasant village of Cedarville again. + + + + + +NIGHT THE EIGHTH. + +REAPING THE WHIRLWIND. + + +I was in Washington City during the succeeding month. It was the +short, or closing session, of a regular Congressional term. The +implication of Judge Lyman in the affair of Green and young +Hammond had brought him into such bad odor in Cedarville and the +whole district from which he had been chosen, that his party +deemed it wise to set him aside, and take up a candidate less +likely to meet with so strong and, it might be, successful an +opposition. By so doing, they were able to secure the election, +once more, against the growing temperance party, which succeeded, +however, in getting a Maine Law man into the State Legislature. It +was, therefore, Judge Lyman's last winter at the Federal Capital. + +While seated in the reading-room at Fuller's Hotel, about noon, on +the day after my arrival in Washington, I noticed an individual, +whose face looked familiar, come in and glance about, as if in +search of some one. While yet questioning my mind who he could be, +I heard a man remark to a person with whom he had been conversing: + +"There's that vagabond member away from his place in the House, +again." + +"Who?" inquired the other. + +"Why. Judge Lyman," was answered. + +"Oh!" said the other, indifferently; "it isn't of much +consequence. Precious little wisdom does he add to that +intelligent body." + +"His vote is worth something, at least, when important questions +are at stake." + +"What does he charge for it?" was coolly inquired. + +There was a shrug of the shoulders, and an arching of the +eyebrows, but no answer. + +"I'm in earnest, though, in the question," said the last speaker. + +"Not in saying that Lyman will sell his vote to the highest +bidders?" + +"That will depend altogether upon whom the bidders may be. They +must be men who have something to lose as well as gain--men not at +all likely to bruit the matter, and in serving whose personal +interests no abandonment of party is required. Judge Lyman is +always on good terms with the lobby members, and may be found in +company with some of them daily. Doubtless, his absence from the +House, now, is for the purpose of a special meeting with gentlemen +who are ready to pay well for votes in favor of some bill making +appropriations of public money for private or corporate benefit." + +"You certainly can not mean all you say to be taken in its +broadest sense," was replied to this. + +"Yes; in its very broadest. Into just this deep of moral and +political degradation has this man fallen, disgracing his +constituents, and dishonoring his country." + +"His presence at Washington doesn't speak very highly in favor of +the community he represents." + +"No; still, as things are now, we cannot judge of the moral worth +of a community by the man sent from it to Congress. +Representatives show merely the strength of parties. The candidate +chosen in party primary meetings is not selected because he is the +best man they have, and the one fittest to legislate wisely in +national affairs; but he who happens to have the strongest +personal friends among those who nominate, or who is most likely +to poll the highest vote. This is why we find,' in Congress, such +a large preponderance of tenth-rate men." + +"A man such as you represent Judge Lyman to be would sell his +country, like another Arnold." + +"Yes; if the bid were high enough." + +"Does he gamble?" + +"Gambling, I might say, is a part of his profession. Very few +nights pass, I am told, without finding him at the gaming-table." + +I heard no more. At all this, I was not in the least surprised; +for my knowledge of the man's antecedents had prepared me for +allegations quite as bad as these. + +During the week I spent at the Federal Capital, I had several +opportunities of seeing Judge Lyman, in the House and out of it,-- +in the House only when the yeas and nays were called on some +important measure, or a vote taken on a bill granting special +privileges. In the latter case, his vote, as I noticed, was +generally cast on the affirmative side. Several times I saw him +staggering on the Avenue, and once brought into the House for the +purpose of voting, in so drunken a state, that he had to be +supported to his seat. And even worse than this--when his name was +called, he was asleep, and had to be shaken several times before +he was sufficiently aroused to give his vote! + +Happily, for the good of his country, it was his last winter in +Washington. At the next session, a better man took his place. + +Two years from the period of my last visit to Cedarville, I found +myself approaching that quiet village again. As the church-spire +came in view, and house after house became visible, here und +there, standing out in pleasant relief against the green +background of woods and fields, all the exciting events which +rendered my last visit so memorable, came up fresh in my mind. I +was yet thinking of Willy Hammond's dreadful death, and of his +broken-hearted mother, whose life went out with his, when the +stage rolled by their old homestead. Oh, what a change was here! +Neglect, decay, and dilapidation were visible, let the eye fall +where it would. The fences were down, here and there; the hedges, +once so green and nicely trimmed, had grown rankly in some places, +but were stunted and dying in others; all the beautiful walks were +weedy and grass-grown, and the box-borders dead; the garden, +rainbow-hued in its wealth of choice and beautiful flowers when I +first saw it, was lying waste,--a rooting-ground for hogs. A +glance at the house showed a broken chimney, the bricks unremoved +from the spot where they struck the ground; a moss grown roof, +with a large limb from a lightning-rent tree lying almost balanced +over the eaves, and threatening to fall at the touch of the first +wind-storm that swept over. Half of the vines that clambered about +the portico were dead, and the rest, untrained, twined themselves +in wild disorder, or fell groveling to the earth. One of the +pillars of the portico was broken, as were, also, two of the steps +that went up to it. The windows of the house were closed, but the +door stood open, and, as the stage went past, my eyes rested, for +a moment, upon an old man seated in the hall. He was not near +enough to the door for me to get a view of his face; but the white +flowing hair left me in no doubt as to his identity. It was Judge +Hammond. + +The "Sickle and Sheaf" was yet the stage-house of Cedarville, and +there, a few minutes afterward, I found myself. The hand of change +had been here also. The first object that attracted my attention +was the sign-post, which at my earlier arrival, some eight or nine +years before, stood up in its new white garment of paint, as +straight as a plummet-line, bearing proudly aloft the golden sheaf +and gleaming sickle. Now, the post, dingy and shattered and worn +from the frequent contact of wheels, and gnawing of restless +horses, leaned from its trim perpendicular at an angle of many +degrees, as if ashamed of the faded, weather-worn, lying symbol it +bore aloft in the sunshine. Around the post was a filthy mud-pool, +in which a hog lay grunting out its sense of enjoyment. Two or +three old empty whisky barrels lumbered up the dirty porch, on +which a coarse, bloated, vulgar-looking man sat leaning against +the wall--his chair tipped back on its hind legs--squinting at me +from one eye, as I left the stage and came forward toward the +house. + +"Ah! is this you?" said he, as I came near to him, speaking +thickly, and getting up with a heavy motion. I now recognized the +altered person of Simon Slade. On looking at him closer, I saw +that the eye which I had thought only shut was in fact destroyed. +How vividly, now, uprose in imagination the scenes I had witnessed +during my last night in his bar-room; the night when a brutal mob, +whom he had inebriated with liquor, came near murdering him. + +"Glad to see you once more, my boy! Glad to see you! I--I--I'm not +just--you see. How are you? How are you?" + +And he shook my hand with a drunken show of cordiality. + +I felt shocked and disgusted. Wretched man! down the crumbling +sides of the pit he had digged for other feet, he was himself +sliding, while not enough strength remained even to struggle with +his fate. + +I tried for a few minutes to talk with him; but his mind was +altogether beclouded, and his questions and answers incoherent; so +I left him, and entered the bar-room. + +"Can I get accommodations here for a couple of days?" I inquired +of a stupid, sleepy-looking man, who was sitting in a chair behind +the bar. + +"I reckon so," he answered, but did not rise. + +I turned, and walked a few paces toward the door, and then walked +back again. + +"I'd like to get a room," said I. + +The man got up slowly, and going to a desk, fumbled about it for a +while. At length he brought out an old, dilapidated bank-book, +and throwing it open on the counter, asked me, with an indifferent +manner, to write down my name. + +"I'll take a pen, if you please." + +"Oh, yes!" And he hunted about again in the desk, from which, +after a while, he brought forth the blackened stump of a quill, +and pushed it toward me across the counter. + +"Ink," said I--fixing my eyes upon him with a look of displeasure. + +"I don't believe there is any," he muttered. "Frank," and he +called the landlord's son, going to the door behind the bar as he +did so. + +"What d'ye want?" a rough, ill-natured voice answered. + +"Where's the ink?" + +"Don't know anything about it." + +"You had it last. What did you do with it?" + +"Nothing!" was growled back. + +"Well, I wish you'd find it." + +"Find it yourself, and--" I cannot repeat the profane language he +used. + +"Never mind," said I. "A pencil will do just as well." And I drew +one from my pocket. The attempt to write with this, on the +begrimed and greasy page of the register, was only partially +successful. It would have puzzled almost any one to make out the +name. From the date of the last entry, it appeared that mine was +the first arrival, for over a week, of any person desiring a room. + +As I finished writing my name, Frank came stalking in, with a +cigar in his mouth, and a cloud of smoke around his head. He had +grown into a stout man--though his face presented little that was +manly, in the true sense of the word. He was disgustingly sensual. +On seeing me, a slight flush tinged his cheeks. + +"How do you do?" he said, offering me his hand. "Peter,"--he +turned to the lazy-looking bar-keeper--"tell Jane to have No. 11 +put in order for a gentleman immediately, and tell her to be sure +and change the bed linen." + +"Things look rather dull here," I remarked, as the bar-keeper went +out to do as he had been directed. + +"Rather; it's a dull place, anyhow." + +"How is your mother?" I inquired. + +A slight, troubled look came into his face, as he answered: + +"No better." + +"She's sick, then?" + +"Yes; she's been sick a good while; and I'm afraid will never be +much better." His manner was not altogether cold and indifferent, +but there was a want of feeling in his voice. + +"Is she at home?" + +"No, sir." + +As he showed no inclination to say more on the subject, I asked no +further questions, and he soon found occasion to leave me. + +The bar room had undergone no material change, so far as its +furniture and arrangements were concerned; but a very great change +was apparent in the condition of these. The brass rod around the +bar, which, at my last visit was brightly polished, was now a +greenish-black, and there came from it an unpleasant odor of +verdigris. The walls were fairly coated with dust, smoke, and fly- +specks, and the windows let in the light but feebly through the +dirt-obscured glass. The floor was filthy. Behind the bar, on the +shelves designed for a display of liquors, was a confused mingling +of empty or half-filled decanters, cigar-boxes, lemons and lemon- +peel, old newspapers, glasses, a broken pitcher, a hat, a soiled +vest, and a pair of blacking brushes, with other incongruous +things, not now remembered. The air of the room was loaded with +offensive vapors. + +Disgusted with every thing about the bar, I went into the sitting- +room. Here, there was some order in the arrangement of the dingy +furniture; but you might have written your name in dust on the +looking-glass and table. The smell of the torpid atmosphere was +even worse than that of the bar-room. So I did not linger here, +but passed through the hall, and out upon the porch, to get a +draught of pure air. + +Slade still sat leaning against the wall. + +"Fine day this," said he, speaking in a mumbling kind of voice. + +"Very fine," I answered. + +"Yes, very fine." + +"Not doing so well as you were a few years ago," said I. + +"No--you see--these--these 'ere blamed temperance people are +ruining everything." + +"Ah! Is that so?" + +"Yes. Cedarville isn't what it was when you first came to the +'Sickle and Sheaf.' I--I--you see. Curse the temperance people! +They've ruined every thing, you see. Every thing! Ruined--" + +And he muttered and mouthed his words in such a way, that I could +understand but little he said; and, in that little, there was +scarcely any coherency. So I left him, with a feeling of pity in +my heart for the wreck he had become, and went into the town to +call upon one or two gentlemen with whom I had business. + +In the course of the afternoon, I learned that Mrs. Slade was in +an insane asylum, about five miles from Cedarville. The terrible +events of the day on which young Hammond was murdered completed +the work of mental ruin, begun at the time her husband abandoned +the quiet, honorable calling of a miller, and became a tavern- +keeper. Reason could hold its position no longer. When word came +to her that Willy and his mother were both dead, she uttered a +wild shriek, and fell down in a fainting fit. From that period the +balance of her mind was destroyed. Long before this, her friends +saw that reason wavered. Frank had been her idol. A pure, bright, +affectionate boy he was, when she removed with him from their +pleasant cottage-home, where all the surrounding influences were +good, into a tavern, where an angel could scarcely remain without +corruption. From the moment this change was decided on by her +husband, a shadow fell upon her heart. She saw, before her +husband, her children, and herself, a yawning pit, and felt that, +in a very few years, all of them must plunge down into its fearful +darkness. + +Alas! how quickly began the realization of her worst fears in the +corruption of her worshipped boy! And how vain proved all effort +and remonstrance, looking to his safety, whether made with himself +or his father! From the day the tavern was opened, and Frank drew +into his lungs full draughts of the changed atmosphere by which he +was now surrounded, the work of moral deterioration commenced. The +very smell of the liquor exhilarated him unnaturally; while the +subjects of conversation, so new to him, that found discussion in +the bar-room, soon came to occupy a prominent place in his +imagination, to the exclusion of those humane, child-like, tender, +and heavenly thoughts and impressions it had been the mother's +care to impart and awaken. Ah! with what an eager zest does the +heart drink in of evil. And how almost hopeless is the case of a +boy, surrounded, as Frank was, by the corrupting, debasing +associations of a bar-room! Had his father meditated his ruin, he +could not have more surely laid his plans for the fearful +consummation; and he reaped as he had sown. With a selfish desire +to get gain, he embarked in the trade of corruption, ruin, and +death, weakly believing that he and his could pass through the +fire harmless. How sadly a few years demonstrated his error, we +have seen. + +Flora, I learned, was with her mother, devoting her life to her. +The dreadful death of Willy Hammond, for whom she had conceived a +strong attachment, came near depriving her of reason also. Since +the day on which that awful tragedy occurred, she had never even +looked upon her old home. She went away with her unconscious +mother, and ever since had remained with her--devoting her life to +her comfort. Long before this, all her own and mother's influence +over her brother had come to an end. It mattered not how she +sought to stay his feet, so swiftly moving along the downward way, +whether by gentle entreaty, earnest remonstrance, or tears; in +either case, wounds for her own heart were the sure consequences, +while his steps never lingered a moment. A swift destiny seemed +hurrying him on to ruin. The change in her father--once so tender, +so cheerful in his tone, so proud of and loving toward his +daughter--was another source of deep grief to her pure young +spirit. Over him, as well as over her brother, all her power was +lost; and he even avoided her, as though her presence were an +offense to him. And so, when she went out from her unhappy home, +she took with her no desire to return. Even when imagination bore +her back to the "Sickle and Sheaf," she felt an intense, heart- +sickening repulsion toward the place where she had first felt the +poisoned arrows of life; and in the depths of her spirit she +prayed that her eyes might never look upon it again. In her almost +cloister-like seclusion, she sought to gather the mantle of +oblivion about her heart. + +Had not her mother's condition made Flora's duty a plain one, the +true, unselfish instincts of her heart would have doubtless led +her back to the polluted home she had left, there, in a kind of +living death, to minister as best she could to the comfort of a +debased father and brother. But she was spared that trial--that +fruitless sacrifice. + +Evening found me once more in the bar-room of the "Sickle and +Sheaf." The sleepy, indifferent bar-keeper, was now more in his +element--looked brighter, and had quicker motions. Slade, who had +partially recovered from the stupefying effects of the heavy +draughts of ale with which he washed down his dinner, was also in +a better condition, though not inclined to talk. He was sitting at +a table, alone, with his eyes wandering about the room. Whether +his thoughts were agreeable or disagreeable, it was not easy to +determine. Frank was there, the centre of a noisy group of coarse +fellows, whose vulgar sayings and profane expletives continually +rung through the room. The noisiest, coarsest, and most profane +was Frank Slade; yet did not the incessant volume of bad language +that flowed from his tongue appear in the least to disturb his +father. + +Outraged, at length, by this disgusting exhibition, that had not +even the excuse of an exciting cause, I was leaving the bar-room, +when I heard some one remark to a young man who had just come in: +"What! you here again, Ned? Ain't you afraid your old man will be +after you, as usual?" + +"No," answered the person addressed, chuckling inwardly, "he's +gone to a prayer-meeting." + +"You'll at least have the benefit of his prayers," was lightly +remarked. + +I turned to observe the young man more closely. His face I +remembered, though I could not identify him at first. But, when I +heard him addressed soon after as Ned Hargrove, I had a vivid +recollection of a little incident that occurred some years before, +and which then made a strong impression. The reader has hardly +forgotten the visit of Mr. Hargrove to the bar-room of the "Sickle +and Sheaf," and the conversation among some of its inmates, which +his withdrawal, in company with his son, then occasioned. The +father's watchfulness over his boy, and his efforts to save him +from the allurements and temptations of a bar-room, had proved, as +now appeared, unavailing. The son was several years older; but it +was sadly evident, from the expression of his face, that he had +been growing older in evil faster than in years. + +The few words that I have mentioned as passing between this young +man and another inmate of the bar-room, caused me to turn back +from the door, through which I was about passing, and take a chair +near to where Hargrove had seated himself. As I did so, the eyes +of Simon Slade rested on the last-named individual. + +"Ned Hargrove!" he said, speaking roughly--"if you want a drink, +you'd better get it, and make yourself scarce." + +"Don't trouble yourself," retorted the young man, "you'll get your +money for the drink in good time." + +This irritated the landlord, who swore at Hargrove violently, and +said something about not wanting boys about his place who couldn't +stir from home without having "daddy or mammy running after them." + +"Never fear!" cried out the person who had first addressed +Hargrove--"his old man's gone to a prayer-meeting. We shan't have +the light of his pious countenance here to-night." + +I fixed my eyes upon the young man to see what effect this coarse +and irreverent allusion to his father would have. A slight tinge +of shame was in his face; but I saw that he had not sufficient +moral courage to resent the shameful desecration of a parent's +name. How should he, when he was himself the first to desecrate +that name? + +"If he were forty fathoms deep in the infernal regions," answered +Slade, "he'd find out that Ned was here, and get half an hour's +leave of absence to come after him. The fact is, I'm tired of +seeing his solemn, sanctimonious face here every night. If the boy +hasn't spirit enough to tell him to mind his own business, as I +have done more than fifty times, why, let the boy stay away +himself." + +"Why don't you send him off with a flea in his ear, Ned?" said one +of the company, a young man scarcely his own age. "My old man +tried that game with me, but he soon found that I could hold the +winning cards." + +"Just what I'm going to do the very next time he comes after me." + +"Oh, yes! So you've said twenty times," remarked Frank Slade, in a +sneering, insolent manner. + +Edward Hargrove had not the spirit to resent this; he only +answered: + +"Just let him show himself here to-night, and you will see." + +"No, we won't see," sneered Frank. + +"Wouldn't it be fun!" was exclaimed. "I hope to be on hand, should +it ever come off." + +"He's as 'fraid as death of the old chap," laughed a sottish- +looking man, whose age ought to have inspired him with some +respect for the relation between father and son, and doubtless +would, had not a long course of drinking and familiarity with +debasing associates blunted his moral sense. + +"Now for it!" I heard uttered, in a quick, delighted voice. "Now +for fun! Spunk up to him, Ned! Never say die!" + +I turned toward the door, and there stood the father of Edward +Hargrove. How well I remembered the broad, fine forehead, the +steady, yet mild eyes, the firm lips, the elevated, superior +bearing of the man I had once before seen in that place, and on a +like errand. His form was slightly bent now; his hair was whiter; +his eyes farther back in his head; his face thinner and marked +with deeper lines; and there was in the whole expression of his +face a touching sadness. Yet, superior to the marks of time and +suffering, an unflinching resolution was visible in his +countenance, that gave to it a dignity, and extorted involuntary +respect. He stood still, after advancing a few paces, and then, +his searching eyes having discovered his son, he said mildly, yet +firmly, and with such a strength of parental love in his voice +that resistance was scarcely possible: + +"Edward! Edward! Come, my son." + +"Don't go." The words were spoken in an undertone, and he who +uttered them turned his face away from Mr. Hargrove, so that the +old man could not see the motion of his lips. A little while +before, he had spoken bravely against the father of Edward; now, +he could not stand up in his presence. + +I looked at Edward. He did not move from where he was sitting, and +yet I saw that to resist his father cost him no light struggle. + +"Edward." There was nothing imperative--nothing stern--nothing +commanding in the father's voice; but its great, its almost +irresistible power, lay in its expression of the father's belief +that his son would instantly leave the place. And it was this +power that prevailed. Edward arose, and, with eyes cast upon the +floor, was moving away from his companions, when Frank Slade +exclaimed: + +"Poor, weak fool!" + +It was a lightning flash of indignation, rather than a mere glance +from the human eye, that Mr. Hargrove threw instantly upon Frank; +while his fine form sprung up erect. He did not speak, but merely +transfixed him with a look. Frank curled his lip impotently, as he +tried to return the old man's withering glances. + +"Now look here!" said Simon Slade, in some wrath, "there's been +just about enough of this. I'm getting tired of it. Why don't you +keep Ned at home? Nobody wants him here." + +"Refuse to sell him liquor," returned Mr. Hargrove. + +"It's my trade to sell liquor," answered Slade, boldly. + +"I wish you had a more honorable calling," said Hargrove, almost +mournfully. + +"If you insult my father, I'll strike you down!" exclaimed Frank +Slade, starting up and assuming a threatening aspect. + +"I respect filial devotion, meet it where I will," calmly replied +Mr. Hargrove,--"I only wish it had a better foundation in this +case. I only wish the father had merited----" + +I will not stain my page with the fearful oath that Frank Slade +yelled, rather than uttered, as, with clenched fist, he sprung +toward Mr. Hargrove. But ere he had reached the unruffled old man +--who stood looking at him as one would look into the eyes of a +wild beast, confident that he could not stand the gaze--a firm +hand grasped his arm, and a rough voice said: + +"Avast, there, young man! Touch a hair of that white head, and +I'll wring your neck off." + +"Lyon!" As Frank uttered the man's name, he raised his fist to +strike him. A moment the clenched hand remained poised in the air; +then it fell slowly to his side, and he contented himself with an +oath and a vile epithet. + +"You can swear to your heart's content. It will do nobody any harm +but yourself," coolly replied Mr. Lyon, whom I now recognized as +the person with whom I had held several conversations during +previous visits. + +"Thank you, Mr. Lyon," said Mr. Hargrove, "for this manly +interference. It is no more than I should have expected from you." + +"I never suffer a young man to strike an old man," said Lyon +firmly. "Apart from that, Mr. Hargrove, there are other reasons +why your person must be free from violence where I am." + +"This is a bad place for you, Lyon," said Mr. Hargrove; "and I've +said so to you a good many times." He spoke in rattier an +undertone. "Why WILL you come here?" + +"It's a bad place, I know," replied Lyon, speaking out boldly, +"and we all know it. But habit, Mr. Hargrove--habit. That's the +cursed thing! If the bar-rooms were all shut up, there would be +another story to tell. Get us the Maine law, and there will be +some chance for us." + +"Why don't you vote the temperance ticket?" asked Mr. Hargrove. + +"Why did I? you'd better ask," said Lyon. + +"I thought you voted against us." + +"Not I. Ain't quite so blind to my own interest as that. And, if +the truth were known, I should not at all wonder if every man in +this room, except Slade and his son, voted on your side of the +house." + +"It's a little strange, then," said Mr. Hargrove, "that with the +drinking men on our side, we failed to secure the election." + +"You must blame that on your moderate men, who see no danger and +go blind with their party," answered Lyon. "We have looked the +evil in the face, and know its direful quality." + +"Come! I would like to talk with you, Mr. Lyon." + +Mr. Hargrove, his son, and Mr. Lyon went out together. As they +left the room, Frank Slade said: + +"What a cursed liar and hypocrite he is!" + +"Who?" was asked. + +"Why, Lyon," answered Frank, boldly. + +"You'd better say that to his face." + +"It wouldn't be good for him," remarked one of the company. + +At this Frank started to his feet, stalked about the room, and put +on all the disgusting airs of a drunken braggart. Even his father +saw the ridiculous figure he cut, and growled out: + +"There, Frank, that'll do. Don't make a miserable fool of +yourself!" + +At which Frank retorted, with so much of insolence that his father +flew into a towering passion, and ordered him to leave the bar- +room. + +"You can go out yourself if you don't like the company. I'm very +well satisfied," answered Frank. + +"Leave this room, you impudent young scoundrel!" + +"Can't go, my amiable friend," said Frank, with a cool self- +possession that maddened his father, who got up hastily, and moved +across the bar-room to the place where he was standing. + +"Go out, I tell you!" Slade spoke resolutely. + +"Would be happy to oblige you," Frank said, in a taunting voice; +"but, 'pon my word, it isn't at all convenient." + +Half intoxicated as he was, and already nearly blind with passion, +Slade lifted his hand to strike his son. And the blow would have +fallen had not some one caught his arm, and held him back from the +meditated violence. Even the debased visitors of this bar-room +could not stand by and see nature outraged in a bloody strife +between father and son; for it was plain from the face and quickly +assumed attitude of Frank, that if his father had laid his hand +upon him, he would have struck him in return. + +I could not remain to hear the awful imprecations that father and +son, in their impotent rage, called down from heaven upon each +other's heads. It was the most shocking exhibition of depraved +human nature that I had ever seen. And so I left the bar-room, +glad to escape from its stifling atmosphere and revolting scenes. + + + + + +NIGHT THE NINTH. + +A FEARFUL CONSUMMATION. + + +Neither Slade nor his son was present at the breakfast-table on +the next morning. As for myself, I did not eat with much appetite. +Whether this defect arose from the state of my mind, or the state +of the food set before me, I did not stop to inquire; but left the +stifling, offensive atmosphere of the dining-room in a very few +moments after entering that usually attractive place for a hungry +man. + +A few early drinkers were already in the bar-room--men with +shattered nerves and cadaverous faces, who could not begin the +day's work without the stimulus of brandy or whisky. They came in, +with gliding footsteps, asked for what they wanted in low voices, +drank in silence, and departed. It was a melancholy sight to look +upon. + +About nine o'clock the landlord made his appearance. He, too, came +gliding into the bar-room, and his first act was to seize upon a +brandy decanter, pour out nearly half a pint of the fiery liquid, +and drink it off. How badly his hand shook--so badly that he +spilled the brandy both in pouring it out and in lifting the glass +to his lips! What a shattered wreck he was! He looked really worse +now than he did on the day before, when drink gave an artificial +vitality to his system, a tension to his muscles, and light to his +countenance. The miller of ten years ago, and the tavern-keeper of +today! Who could have identified them as one? + +Slade was turning from the bar, when a man? came in. I noticed an +instant change in the landlord's countenance. He looked startled; +almost frightened. The man drew a small package from his pocket, +and after selecting a paper therefrom, presented it to Slade, who +received it with a nervous reluctance, opened, and let his eye +fall upon the writing within. I was observing him closely at the +time, and saw his countenance flush deeply. In a moment or two it +became pale again--paler even than before. + +"Very well--all right. I'll attend to it," said the landlord, +trying to recover himself, yet swallowing with every sentence. + +The man who was no other than a sheriff's deputy, and who gave him +a sober, professional look, then went out with a firm step, and an +air of importance. As he passed through the outer door, Slade +retired from the bar-room. + +"Trouble coming," I heard the bar-keeper remark, speaking partly +to himself and partly with the view, as was evident from his +manner, of leading me to question him. But this I did not feel +that it was right to do. + +"Got the sheriff on him at last," added the bar-keeper. + +"What's the matter, Bill?" inquired a man who now came in with a +bustling, important air, and leaned familiarly over the bar. "Who +was Jenkins after?" + +"The old man," replied the bar-keeper, in a voice that showed +pleasure rather than regret. + +"No!" + +"It's a fact." Bill, the bar-keeper, actually smiled. + +"What's to pay?" said the man. + +"Don't know, and don't care much." "Did he serve a summons or an +execution?" + +"Can't tell." + +"Judge Lyman's suit went against him." + +"Did it?" + +"Yes; and I heard Judge Lyman swear, that if he got him on the +hip, he'd sell him out, bag and basket. And he's the man to keep +his word." + +"I never could just make out," said the bar-keeper, "how he ever +came to owe Judge Lyman so much. I've never known of any business +transactions between them." + +"It's been dog eat dog, I rather guess," said the man. + +"What do you mean by that?" inquired the bar-keeper. + +"You've heard of dogs hunting in pairs?" + +"Oh, yes." + +"Well, since Harvey Green got his deserts, the business of +fleecing our silly young fellows, who happened to have more money +than wit or discretion, has been in the hands of Judge Lyman and +Slade. They hunted together, Slade holding the game, while the +judge acted as blood-sucker. But that business was interrupted +about a year ago; and game got so scarce that, as I suggested, dog +began to eat dog. And here comes the end of the matter, if I'm not +mistaken. So mix us a stiff toddy. I want one more good drink at +the 'Sickle and Sheaf,' before the colors are struck." + +And the man chuckled at his witty effort. + +During the day, I learned that affairs stood pretty much as this +man had conjectured. Lyman's suits had been on sundry notes +payable on demand; but nobody knew of any property transactions +between him and Slade. On the part of Slade, no defense had been +made--the suit going by default. The visit of the sheriff's +officer was for the purpose of serving an execution. + +As I walked through Cedarville on that day, the whole aspect of +the place seemed changed. I questioned with myself, often, whether +this were really so, or only the effect of imagination. The change +was from cheerfulness and thrift, to gloom and neglect. There was, +to me, a brooding silence in the air; a pause in the life- +movement; a folding of the hands, so to speak, because hope had +failed from the heart. The residence of Mr. Harrison, who, some +two years before, had suddenly awakened to a lively sense of the +evil of rum-selling, because his own sons were discovered to be in +danger, had been one of the most tasteful in Cedarville. I had +often stopped to admire the beautiful shrubbery and flowers with +which it was surrounded; the walks so clear--the borders so fresh +and even--the arbors so cool and inviting. There was not a spot +upon which the eye could rest, that did not show the hand of +taste. When I now came opposite to this house, I was not longer in +doubt as to the actuality of a change. There were no marked +evidences of neglect; but the high cultivation and nice regard for +the small details were lacking. The walks were cleanly swept; but +the box-borders were not so carefully trimmed. The vines and +bushes that in former times were cut and tied so evenly, could +hardly have felt the keen touch of the pruning-knife for months. + +As I paused to note the change, a lady, somewhat beyond the middle +age, came from the house. I was struck by the deep gloom that +overshadowed her countenance. Ah! said I to myself, as I passed +on, how many dear hopes, that once lived in that heart, must have +been scattered to the winds. As I conjectured, this was Mrs. +Harrison, and I was not unprepared to hear, as I did a few hours +afterward, that her two sons had fallen into drinking habits; and, +not only this, had been enticed to the gaming-table. Unhappy +mother! What a life-time of wretchedness was compressed for thee +into a few short years! + +I walked on, noting, here and there, changes even more marked than +appeared about the residence of Mr. Harrison. Judge Lyman's +beautiful place showed utter neglect; and so did one or two others +that, on my first visit to Cedarville, charmed me with their +order, neatness, and cultivation. In every instance, I learned, on +inquiring, that the owners of these, or some members of their +families, were, or had been, visitors at the "Sickle and Sheaf"; +and that the ruin, in progress or completed, began after the +establishment of that point of attraction in the village. + +Something of a morbid curiosity, excited by what I saw, led me on +to take a closer view of the residence of Judge Hammond than I had +obtained on the day before. The first thing that I noticed, on +approaching the old, decaying mansion, were handbills, posted on +the gate, the front-door, and on one of the windows. A nearer +inspection revealed their import. The property had been seized, +and was now offered at sheriff's sale! + +Ten years before, Judge Hammond was known as the richest man in +Cedarville; and now, the homestead which he had once so loved to +beautify--where all that was dearest to him in life once gathered +--worn, disfigured, and in ruins, was about to be wrested from +him. I paused at the gate, and leaning over it, looked in with +saddened feelings upon the dreary waste within. No sign of life +was visible. The door was shut--the windows closed--not the +faintest wreath of smoke was seen above the blackened chimney- +tops. How vividly did imagination restore the life, and beauty, +and happiness, that made their home there only a few years +before,--the mother and her noble boy, one looking with trembling +hope, the other with joyous confidence, into the future,--the +father, proud of his household treasures, but not their wise and +jealous guardian. + +Ah! that his hands should have unbarred the door, and thrown it +wide, for the wolf to enter that precious fold! I saw them all in +their sunny life before me; yet, even as I looked upon them, their +sky began to darken. I heard the distant mutterings of the storm, +and soon the desolating tempest swept down fearfully upon them. I +shuddered as it passed away, to look upon the wrecks left +scattered around. What a change! + +"And all this," said I, "that one man, tired of being useful, and +eager to get gain, might gather in accursed gold!" + +Pushing open the gate, I entered the yard, and walked around the +dwelling, my footsteps echoing in the hushed solitude of the +deserted place. Hark! was that a human voice? + +I paused to listen. + +The sound came, once more, distinctly to my ears, I looked around, +above, everywhere, but perceived no living sign. For nearly a +minute I stood still, listening. Yes; there it was again--a low, +moaning voice, as of one in pain or grief. I stepped onward a few +paces; and now saw one of the doors standing ajar. As I pushed +this door wide open, the moan was repeated. Following the +direction from which the sound came, I entered one of the large +drawing-rooms. The atmosphere was stifling, and all as dark as if +it were midnight. Groping my way to a window, I drew back the bolt +and threw open the shutter. Broadly the light fell across the +dusty, uncarpeted floor, and on the dingy furniture of the room. +As it did so, the moaning voice which had drawn me thither swelled +on the air again; and now I saw, lying upon an old sofa, the form +of a man. It needed no second glance to tell me that this was +Judge Hammond. I put my hand upon him, and uttered his name; but +he answered not. I spoke more firmly, and slightly shook him; but +only a piteous moan was returned. + +"Judge Hammond!" I now called aloud, and somewhat imperatively. + +But it availed nothing. The poor old man aroused not from the +stupor in which mind and body were enshrouded + +"He is dying!" thought I; and instantly left the house in search +of some friends to take charge of him in his last, sad extremity. +The first person to whom I made known the fact shrugged his +shoulders, and said it was no affair of his, and that I must find +somebody whose business it was to attend to him. My next +application was met in the same spirit; and no better success +attended my reference of the matter to a third party. No one to +whom I spoke seemed to have any sympathy for the broken-down old +man. Shocked by this indifference, I went to one of the county +officers, who, on learning the condition of Judge Hammond, took +immediate steps to have him removed to the Alms-house, some miles +distant. + +"But why to the Alms-house?" I inquired, on learning his purpose. +"He has property." + +"Everything has been seized for debt," was the reply. + +"Will there be nothing left after his creditors are satisfied?" + +"Very few, if any, will be satisfied," he answered. "There will +not be enough to pay half the judgments against him." + +"And is there no friend to take him in,--no one, of all who moved +by his side in the days of prosperity, to give a few hours' +shelter, and soothe the last moments of his unhappy life?" + +"Why did you make application here?" was the officer's significant +question. + +I was silent. + +"Your earnest appeals for the poor old man met with no words of +sympathy?" + +"None." + +"He has, indeed, fallen low. In the days of his prosperity, he had +many friends, so called. Adversity has shaken them all like dead +leaves from sapless branches." + +"But why? This is not always so." + +"Judge Hammond was a selfish, worldly man. People never liked him +much. His favoring, so strongly, the tavern of Slade, and his +distillery operations, turned from him some of his best friends. +The corruption and terrible fate of his son--and the insanity and +death of his wife--all were charged upon him in people's minds, +and every one seemed to turn from him instinctively after the +fearful tragedy was completed. He never held tip his head +afterward. Neighbors shunned him as they would a criminal. And +here has come the end at last. He will be taken to the poorhouse, +to die there--a pauper!" + +"And all," said I, partly speaking to myself, "because a man, too +lazy to work at an honest calling, must needs go to rum-selling." + +"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," remarked +the officer with emphasis, as he turned from me to see that his +directions touching the removal of Mr. Hammond to the poor-house +were promptly executed. + +In my wanderings about Cedarville during that day, I noticed a +small but very neat cottage, a little way from the centre of the +village. There was not around it a great profusion of flowers and +shrubbery; but the few vines, flowers, and bushes that grew green +and flourishing about the door, and along the clean walks, added +to the air of taste and comfort that so peculiarly marked the +dwelling. + +"Who lives in that pleasant little spot?" I asked of a man whom I +had frequently seen in Blade's bar-room. He happened to be passing +the house at the same time that I was. + +"Joe Morgan," was answered. + +"Indeed!" I spoke in some surprise. "And what of Morgan? How is he +doing?" + +"Very well." + +"Doesn't he drink?" + +"No. Since the death of his child, be has never taken a drop. That +event sobered him, and he has remained sober ever since." + +"What is he doing?" "Working at his old trade." + +"That of a miller?" + +"Yes. After Judge Hammond broke down, the distillery apparatus and +cotton spinning machinery were all sold and removed from +Cedarville. The purchaser of what remained, having something of +the fear of God, as well as regard for man, in his heart, set +himself to the restoration of the old order of things, and in due +time the revolving mill-wheel was at its old and better work of +grinding corn and wheat for bread. The only two men in Cedarville +competent to take charge of the mill were Simon Slade and Joe +Morgan. The first could not be had, and the second came in as a +matter of course." + +"And he remains sober and industrious?" + +"As any man in the village," was the answer. + +I saw but little of Slade or his son during the day. But both were +in the bar-room at night, and both in a condition sorrowful to +look upon. Their presence, together, in the bar-room, half +intoxicated as they were, seemed to revive the unhappy temper of +the previous evening, as freshly as if the sun had not risen and +set upon their anger. + +During the early part of the evening, considerable company was +present, though not of a very select class. A large proportion +were young men. To most of them the fact that Slade had fallen +into the sheriff's hands was known; and I gathered from some aside +conversation which reached my ears, that Frank's idle, spendthrift +habits had hastened the present crisis in his father's affairs. +He, too, was in debt to Judge Lyman--on what account, it was not +hard to infer. + +It was after nine o'clock, and there were not half a dozen persons +in the room, when I noticed Frank Slade go behind the bar for the +third or fourth time. He was just lifting a decanter of brandy, +when his father, who was considerably under the influence of +drink, started forward, and laid his hand upon that of his son. +Instantly a fierce light gleamed from the eyes of the young man. + +"Let go of my hand!" he exclaimed. + +"No, I won't. Put up that brandy bottle--you're drunk now." + +"Don't meddle with me, old man!" angrily retorted Frank. "I'm not +in the mood to bear anything more from YOU." + +"You're drunk as a fool now," returned Slade, who had seized the +decanter. "Let go the bottle." + +For only an instant did the young man hesitate. Then he drove his +half-clenched hand against the breast of his father, who went +staggering several paces from the counter. Recovering himself, and +now almost furious, the landlord rushed forward upon his son, his +hand raised to strike him. + +"Keep off!" cried Frank. "Keep off! If you touch me, I'll strike +you down!" At the same time raising the half-filled bottle +threateningly. + +But his father was in too maddened a state to fear any +consequences, and so pressed forward upon his son, striking him in +the face the moment he came near enough to do so. + +Instantly, the young man, infuriated by drink and evil passions, +threw the bottle at his father's head. The dangerous missile fell, +crashing upon one of his temples, shivering it into a hundred +pieces. A heavy, jarring fall too surely marked the fearful +consequences of the blow. When we gathered around the fallen man, +and made an effort to lift him from the floor, a thrill of horror +went through every heart. A mortal paleness was already on his +marred face, and the death-gurgle in his throat! In three minutes +from the time the blow was struck, his spirit had gone upward to +give an account of the deeds done in the body. + +"Frank Slade! you have murdered your father!" + +Sternly were these terrible words uttered. It was some time before +the young man seemed to comprehend their meaning. But the moment +he realized the awful truth, he uttered an exclamation of horror. +Almost at the same instant, a pistol-shot came sharply on the ear. +But the meditated self-destruction was not accomplished. The aim +was not surely taken; and the ball struck harmlessly against the +ceiling. + +Half an hour afterward, and Frank Slade was a lonely prisoner in +the county jail! + +Does the reader need a word of comment on this fearful +consummation? No; and we will offer none. + + + + + +NIGHT THE TENTH. + +THE CLOSING SCENE AT THE "SICKLE AND SHEAF." + + +On the day that succeeded the evening of this fearful tragedy, +placards were to be seen all over the village, announcing a mass +meeting at the "Sickle and Sheaf" that night. + +By early twilight, the people commenced assembling. The bar, which +had been closed all day, was now thrown open, and lighted; and in +this room, where so much of evil had been originated, encouraged +and consummated, a crowd of earnest-looking men were soon +gathered. Among them I saw the fine person of Mr. Hargrove. Joe +Morgan--or rather, Mr. Morgan--was also one of the number. The +latter I would scarcely have recognized, had not some one near me +called him by name. He was well dressed, stood erect, and though +there were many deep lines on his thoughtful countenance, all +traces of his former habits were gone. While I was observing him, +he arose, and addressing a few words to the assemblage, nominated +Mr. Hargrove as chairman of the meeting. To this a unanimous +assent was given. + +On taking the chair, Mr. Hargrove made a brief address, something +to this effect. + +"Ten years ago," said he, his voice evincing a slight unsteadiness +as he began, but growing firmer as he proceeded, "there was not a +happier spot in Bolton county than Cedarville. Now, the marks of +ruin are everywhere. Ten years ago, there was a kind-hearted, +industrious miller in Cedarville, liked by every one, and as +harmless as a little child. Now, his bloated, disfigured body lies +in that room. His death was violent, and by the hand of his own +son!" + +Mr. Hargrove's words fell slowly, distinctly, and marked by the +most forcible emphasis. There was scarcely one present who did not +feel a low shudder run along his nerves, as the last words were +spoken in a husky whisper. + +"Ten years ago," he proceeded, "the miller had a happy wife, and +two innocent, glad-hearted children. Now, his wife, bereft of +reason, is in a mad-house, and his son the occupant of a felon's +cell, charged with the awful crime of parricide!" + +Briefly he paused, while his audience stood gazing upon him with +half-suspended respiration. + +"Ten years ago," he went on, "Judge Hammond was accounted the +richest man in Cedarville. Yesterday he was carried, a friendless +pauper, to the Alms-house; and to-day he is the unmourned occupant +of a pauper's grave! Ten years ago, his wife was the proud, +hopeful, loving mother of a most promising son. I need not +describe what Willy Hammond was. All here knew him well. Ah! what +shattered the fine intellect of that noble-minded woman? Why did +her heart break? Where is she? Where is Willy Hammond?" + +A low, half-repressed groan answered the speaker. + +"Ten years ago, you, sir," pointing to a sad-looking old man, and +calling him by name, "had two sons--generous, promising, manly- +hearted boys. What are they now? You need not answer the question. +Too well is their history and your sorrow known. Ten years ago, I +had a son,--amiable, kind, loving, but weak. Heaven knows how I +sought to guard and protect him! But he fell also. The arrows of +destruction darkened the very air of our once secure and happy +village. And who is safe? Not mine, nor yours! + +"Shall I go on? Shall I call up and pass in review before you, one +after another, all the wretched victims who have fallen in +Cedarville during the last ten years? Time does not permit. It +would take hours for the enumeration! No; I will not throw +additional darkness into the picture. Heaven knows it is black +enough already! But what is the root of this great evil? Where +lies the fearful secret? Who understands the disease? A direful +pestilence is in the air--it walketh in darkness, and wasteth at +noonday. It is slaying the first-born in our houses, and the cry +of anguish is swelling on every gale. Is there no remedy?" + +"Yes! yes! There is a remedy!" was the spontaneous answer from +many voices. + +"Be it our task, then, to find and apply it this night," answered +the chairman, as he took his seat. + +"And there is but one remedy," said Morgan, as Mr. Hargrove sat +down. "The accursed traffic must cease among us. You must cut off +the fountain, if you would dry up the stream. If you would save +the young, the weak, and the innocent--on you God has laid the +solemn duty of their protection--you must cover them from the +tempter. Evil is strong, wily, fierce, and active in the pursuit +of its ends. The young, the weak, and the innocent can no more +resist its assaults, than the lamb can resist the wolf. They are +helpless, if you abandon them to the powers of evil. Men and +brethren! as one who has himself been well-nigh lost--as one who, +daily, feels and trembles at the dangers that beset his path--I do +conjure you to stay the fiery stream that is bearing every thing +good and beautiful among you to destruction. Fathers! for the sake +of your young children, be up now and doing. Think of Willy +Hammond, Frank Slade, and a dozen more whose names I could repeat, +and hesitate no longer! Let us resolve, this night, that from +henceforth the traffic shall cease in Cedarville. Is there not a +large majority of citizens in favor of such a measure? And whose +rights or interests can be affected by such a restriction? Who, in +fact, has any right to sow disease and death in our community? The +liberty, under sufferance, to do so, wrongs the individual who +uses it, as well as those who become his victims. Do you want +proof of this? Look at Simon Slade, the happy, kind-hearted +miller; and at Simon Slade, the tavern-keeper. Was he benefited by +the liberty to work harm to his neighbor? No! no! In heaven's +name, then, let the traffic cease! To this end, I offer these +resolutions:-- + +"Be it resolved by the inhabitants of Cedarville, That from this +day henceforth, no more intoxicating drink shall be sold within +the limits of the corporation. + +"Resolved, further, That all the liquors in the 'Sickle and Sheaf' +be forthwith destroyed, and that a fund be raised to pay the +creditors of Simon Slade therefor, should they demand +compensation. + +"Resolved, That in closing up all other places where liquor is +sold, regard shall be had to the right of property which the law +secures to every man. + +"Resolved, That with the consent of the legal authorities, all the +liquor for sale in Cedarville be destroyed, provided the owners +thereof be paid its full value out of a fund specially raised for +that purpose." + +But for the calm yet resolute opposition of one or two men, these +resolutions would have passed by acclamation. A little sober +argument showed the excited company that no good end is ever +secured by the adoption of wrong means. + +There were, in Cedarville, regularly constituted authorities, +which alone had the power to determine public measures, or to say +what business might or might not be pursued by individuals. And +through these authorities they must act in an orderly way. + +There was some little chafing at this view of the case. But good +sense and reason prevailed. Somewhat modified, the resolutions +passed, and the more ultra-inclined contented themselves with +carrying out the second resolution, to destroy forthwith all the +liquor to be found on the premises; which was immediately done. +After which the people dispersed to their homes, each with a +lighter heart, and better hopes for the future of their village. + +On the next day, as I entered the stage that was to bear me from +Cedarville, I saw a man strike his sharp axe into the worn, faded, +and leaning post that had, for so many years, borne aloft the +"Sickle and Sheaf"; and, just as the driver gave word to his +horses, the false emblem which had invited so many to enter the +way of destruction, fell crashing to the earth. + +THE END. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Ten Nights in a Bar Room, by T. S. 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