HARPERS NEW. MONTHLY MAGAZINE. No. CCIIILJUNE, 1871.VoL XLIII. GENERAL AVERAGE. A SOtTTII STREET ECLOGUE. B~ THE AUTHOR OF NOTHING TO WEAR HIS SPEOS ON HIS NOSE AND HIS PEN iN THE INK. THE fair reader, or gentle, as her eye, his, Strikes these lines, will please pause, while this query I press Do yOU know what a GENERAL AVERAGE is? If you do, skip the next twenty lines, more or less- A brief legal opening, in which I intend All the light I can shed very freely to lend On a snbject all Skippers must needs comprehend. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year iSTi, by Harper-and Brothers, in the Office of the Libra.. nan of Congress, at Washington. VOL. XLIH.No. 253.i 2 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Some things we all dread, and not least among these The dangers and perils and risks of the seas; Since the hoar Sindbad first scared slumber away, To the last Marine List, just published to-day, Insatiable Ocean has ceased not to vex Our lives with his storms and disasters and wrecks, As truly this moment as when Horace penned His ode to his outward-bound, sea-going friend, All voyages are ventures, each good ship that sails The toy of the tempest, the sport of the gales; Still Africus, Eurus, and Notus will blow Through the cleft thunder-cloud or whirlwind of snow; Round ancient Charybdis the breakers still roar, And wave chases wave to some wreck-sprinkled shore. Thus, circled with perils, ship, cargo, and freight, Involved in one common adventure and fate, When disaster befalls, tis equal and fair That all the full burden of rescue should bear, Each paying its just and proportionate share, Which joint contribution, on this equal scale, Is called General Average, whence hangs our tale. In South Street, or near it, as all men must know, Dealt and dweltit is not a great while ago The great house of MERcATOR, PEINCEPS, & Co., Herculean pillars of credit and trade, Whose ships and commissions their fortune had made, Whose names Commerce wrote on her earliest page, In her pre-Alaliama, palmier age, And still led the list of the wealthiest firms, Gazetted full oft in those flattering terms, Our highly respected, well known, influential, Whereby, as a species of world-wide credential, The freest of Presses so fondly evinces The trust which it puts in all Merckant Princes. Mercator, the senior, in name and in fact, If gray hairs must count, but in shrewdness and tact, The traders twin levers, less thoroughly versed Than Princeps, our hero, long-headed, long-pursed, Born merchant, self-made, and rough-natured, but then Worn smooth by long contact and friction with men; As sharp as the win d f his native down East, In large matters liber~W but close in the least; His heart, like his house-door, close barred, double locked, Yet thrown open wide to the first friend who knocked; A rough diamond, you say; yes, could we but plan it, That diamonds, instead of pure carbon, were granite; Thus lavish, yet close, in his lifes complex plan, His own coast-wise steamers resembled the man Capacious, well-timbered, and sound to the core, Fit to sail the broad seas, yet hugging the shore! GENERAL AVERAGE. Enter Princeps one day, brisk, eager for work To whom, pen in hand, rushes Balance, chief clerk, His sheet full of figures, his face full of doubt, A man in a maze, with no clew to get out. There is trouble, Sir, here, in this Average ease; For once, we are caught in a rather tight place. It is now, as you know, some six weeks or more Our steamer Spread Eagle that night went ashore On Far Rockaway beach, and up to this day No adjustment is reached, the cause of delay A couple of casesjust two and no other Consigned, it appears, to one Moses & Brother. According to usage, each owner should state What his shipment is worth, at fair market rate, Sign the Average bond, which binds him to bear Of the loss, when adjusted, his ascertained share Pay freight, take his goods, and so end the affair. This all, with the single e~ception I named Of Moses & Brother, whose goods are unclaimed, Have done; we have written for value and prices, Demanding their invoice, but get no advices; What courtesy called for we did and beyond, Sent twice to their store with the Average bond, But all to no purpose; and so, I suppose, While waiting their pleasure we never shall close. Princeps played with his watch seal, musing the while, Then seated himself, and remarked, with a smile, His specs on his nose and his pen in the ink, There is a short method of leading, I think, This horse to the water, and making him drink; rrhe papers may lie on ~ay desk, if you please, While I drop a line to these sly consignees. Without further preface, he rapidly wrote, In his firm, steady hand, a brief business note As follows, see letter-press copy below: Uounting-House of MERCATOR, PRINCEPS, & Co. (Here fill in, at pleasure, street, number, and date.) Afessrs. MOsEs & BROTHER, Cents, IVe would state That two eases ex Spread Eagle, 211 1 d~ 2, Per manifest shipped and belonging to you, Weight and contents unknown, appear to be lost; Not being aware of their value or cost, The acUusters remain unable to close Their Average statement. If, as we suppose, The loss of these goods upon us has to fall, Would feel much obliged should you give us a call, With proof of the cost, which we trust will be low. Yours mo. truly, MERCATOR, PEINCEPS, & Co. 3 4 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. That same afternoon, in the half-opened door, Sat Moses & Brother in front of his store, His eye and his ear, through the soft summer air, Caught the sights and the sounds of Second-Hand Square, That chosen retreat where few Gentiles repair. As patriarchs mused in the folds of their tents, He quietly reckoned his dollars and cents; life sat, for although overhead the sign ran Thus, MosEs & BROTHER, it meant but one man. The Lease, it is true, was renewed, term by term, And rent duly paid, in the name of the firm, But save as thus viewed in ~the eye of the La~v, The mythical brother no eye ever saw. The truth was that Moses so relished a lie, Twas fraud in a purchase induced him to buy; lie scarce made a sale unless this he could do At once sell his goods and his customer too; So he made his firm name one continuous cheat, And hung out the fraud in face of the street. If queries respecting his partner were pressed, Alein bruder was always reported out West ; While further inquiry, no matter how strict, Elicited nothing beyond a u,e~ss nicht I Well, there, in the light of the fast-setting sun, Sat this brace of copartuers rolled into one; No pose for a painter, it must be confessed, For Moses appearance was none of the best. Alas! for the ease with which races decay, What was Absalom once is Fagin to-day. Yet Fagin himself, that arch filcher of wipes, Was one of a constant succession of types, Since Gentile and Jew, Roman, Saxon, and Cdt, From glories ancestral the same lapse have felt. That Moses descent might be rapid and easy, Nature made him, it seemed, remarkably greasy; Low-browed, heavy-featured, gross, pimpled, and fat, He looked as though life had its source in a vat; A being he seemed whose least contact would soil, Who whatever he touched he was certain to spoil, Whose hand whosoever should grasp would strike oil ! Thus seated contemplative, Moses was found By the prompt penny-postman, footing his round, Who halted, with gesture official, and drew From his plump letter pouch Princeps billetdoux; And saying in passing, A letter for you, Delivered it deftly in Moses moist hand. With his quick, native craft the missive he scanned, And cautiously grasped it, as though something showed It was loaded and primed, and about to explode; Then furtively gazing around him, withdrew, Still eying the letter, from all outward view, GENERAL AVERAGE. As a dog who in public lights on a bone, Sneaks off like a thief to enjoy it alone. Could the Public, as Moses slipped from its eye, Have planted itself in his place on the sly, And keyholed him there for a minute or more, As he read Princeps letter inside of his door, It would have discovered, by this rapid glance Interviewing him thus, as if in advance, As he slowly perused, reperused it, and then, More slowly than ever, perused it again (As though, like a Bill in due course of proceeding In Senate or House, it must have its third reading) How quickly his first transient look of alarm Was melted away and dissolved by the charm Of an audible smile, which seemed to begin In the soles of his shoes, welled up past his chin, And flooded his face with a broad, unctuous grin. As he dwelt on the note, each line, every word, The depths of his fraudulent being it stirred, Evoked from the dark, murky slime of his thought, The germ of a promising swindle he caught. The two cases are lost ; yes, thus the note read. Lost goods, like dead men, tell no tales, Moses said. AND FLOODED IllS FACE WITH A IIROAI), UNCTUOUS GRIN. 6 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. If lost, their true value will never be told, Then how easy, at once, to increase it tenfold! They admit they must pay; then is it not plain Their loss may be turned into Moses great gain ? And broader, more unctuous, the grin of delight Suffused all his face as he vanished from sight. Next morn, lubricated anew, and alert, With unwonted lustrations from yesterdays dirt, Metamorphosed, besides, in clean, ruffled shirt, Princeps letter in hand by way of credential, With meek, humble air and salute deferential, His voice and his bow both pitched equally low, Moses greeted Mercator, Princeps, & Co. Our merchant received him as genial and bland As the bright summer morning, grasping his hand, With a glance at the note, a nod of the head, Its about those lost cases youre calling ? he said. Moses opened at once, as always his wont, In very bad English, a true German grunt, Yah, zwei cases, and then broke down, with an air Of utter and helpless and hopeless despair. To Queens English true, Princeps knew but this much, Or fancied he knew, that all German was Dutch ; Long usage had certified this to his ear Zwei lager was Dutch for two glasses of beer. So he met Moses boldly, thrusting a brace Of fingers directly in front of his face, His voice, at the real you poor foreigner screech, Cried, Moses! well give you zwei hundred for each ! Zwei hundert? zwei tausend! screamed Moses, aghast; And then the pent volume broke forth, full and fast, As in the oil region bursts suddenly out Some sputtering, dense, oleaginous spout. A long lamentation, the burden of which Was still the zwei casesthose found, he was rich Those lost, he was lost zum teufel gegangen, Without a resource save himselbst to erhartgen. The goods were a style which could nowhere be got, Each case a choice order, an extra fine lot ; And he swore and re-swore, in all the Dutch tenses, That four tausend in gold would not pay expenses. Come, come, Princeps cried, when at last the oil-spout, Like so many others, began to give out, Take three thousand cashquite enough, my good friend, For both casesand bring the affair to an end. But this, like new strokes of the drill on the rock, A fresh fountain of feeling served to unlock. With new zeal our polyglot Moses began To play the nnfortunate, badly used man; Rehearsed the same story, protested and swore, Gave figures and dates, and wound up as before GENERAL AVERAGE. 7 With this brave assertion to clinch the last nail, And put beyond question the truth of his tale: Dose dings vot I dell you is all recht and fair; If you doubt mein own wort, mein 6ruder will schwear I Very well, Princeps said; it hardly seems just; But being our loss, if we must, why, we must. Four thousand it is. Mr. Balance, please note The bargain concluded ; and so Balance wrote Some mystical figures, and pausing again, Politely extended to Moses a pen. For forms sake, the Average bond you must sign Value. $4000here on this line. And now, Princeps said, I must hurry away; Bank meeting at twelve; I shall lose, if I stay, Five dollars in gold. Call to-morrow, at ten, When your check will be signed. Good-by until then. Moses left in great glee; descending the stair, His foot felt no pressure, he trode upon air; He had spoiled the Philistines, captured their gold Had come, seen, and conquered, like C~esar of old. The tortuous annals of Second-Hand Square Had nothing with this happy stroke to compare; His own private ventures, at home and abroad, Had never achieved so successful a fraud; Its brilliant horizon showed only one speck The fact that he had not yet handled the check. But this passing cloud brought no doubt to his mind; The bargain was closed, and the contract was signed. So homeward, rejoicing, he went on his way, Revolving the wondrous success of the day. As his ancestral creed deemed every day lost Which did not enrich him at somebodys cost, So gainful a morning might well stir his sense With virtues warm glow, its own rich recompense. The prize he had drawn was so wholly his own, It heightened its charm to enjoy it alone; Not the wife of his youth, the Rachel and Leah Of Moses & Brother, should gain an idea Of the great golden secret close hid in his breas Like some rare, precious oil condensed and compressed, Till the moment should come its wealth to unfold, And flash in full view the four tausend in gold On time to a second, the last stroke of ten Found Moses, next day, at our merchants again. The greeting of Princeps was even more bland Than yesterdays welcome; he grasped Moses hand, Wringing out the moist fat in his firm, down East grip, As a chandler might squeeze a prime tallow dip. Prompt as ever; no grass grows under your shoes, Friend Moses; Ill give you the best of good news: 8 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. We were wrong, it appears, and all wish you joy, Those two cases are found gefunden! old boy ! (This phrase I should say that last evening our wary Friend Princeps had culled from a Dutch dictionary, And boldly delivered it ore rotundo), But to Moses it came as a voice de pro fundo. Cefanden I he stammered, and sank in a chair, Then turned to the window, pale, gasping for air. Princeps followed him up. What wonderful luck! There, Moses, they come, on that large yellow truck. He silently pointed, like Death with his dart; Moses stared with a dying mans glare at the cart, Which bore the two cases, a sorry exhibit, Like a pair of old rogues en route to the gibbet. Drowning men catch at straws; he seized one last lie, Which rose to his lips as the cartman drove by; A sharp, cunning glance from the window he sent, Then cried, Dose are not the zwei cctse~ I meant! GEFUNDEN! GENERAL AVERAGE. 9 It must be they come by the next steamer trip; Now I dinks of it, so! it was not this ship. Warming up to his work, the old scamp commences One by one, to unlie his first false pretenses; For one falsehood before he now utters six, Declares the zwei cases are really worth nia~ Old rags, refuse stuff, all bought for a song, And finally vows that they do not belong To Moses & Brother, but just came consigned For a friend, whose address he cant call to mind; With other choice fictions, a similar strain, Winding up with the old, familiar refrain, Vot I dells you dis dime is all on der square; If you doubt mein own wort, mein bruder will sehwear I Too late 1 Princeps cried; the adjustment is made; By the value you fixed your share must be paid. Just forty per cent. on four thousand is due; The measure you meted is measured to you. Tis a charge on the goodsyou say they are trash; So cart them away, and pay over the cash, Your average share, sixteen hundred, in gold, Or suit will be brought, and the lies you have told Will more than suffice, unless justice fail, To lock up your whole firm in Ludlow Street jail. Heneeforwardhere Prineeps gazed solemnly round On his clerks, who all stared in silence profound, Impressively raising his voice and his hand, XVith pulpit-like air, as if taking his stand On high moral ground, as a teacher of youth Henceforth, Messrs. Moses, pray stick to the truth. You see, from the painful reverse of to-day, That lying, though pleasant, is not sure to pay; You learn that the way of transgressors~ is hard; Beware lest, in futureto speak by the card Betrayed by your greed for this worlds filthy lucre, You are euchred by those whom you seek to euchre. You often have read of, oft witnessed, perhap~, The exit of Shylock, in total collapse, Under Portias consecutive, vigorous raps; But Princeps declares no Shakspearean page, Nor Old Bowery boards, nor Booths classic stage, Nor height of high Tragedy ever discloses Such an outburst of rage as the exit of Moses. To say he boiled over is certainly not A tithe of the truth; you must fancy the pot, Suspended so long in this figure of speech, By which our weak language endeavors to reach A rage past portrayal by pen or by pencil Must fancy, I say, this time-honored utensil, Brimful, in this instance, with all Moses oil, Breaking up in one vast ferruginous boil, 10 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. / K Flaniincr foi th, cornet-like, on its fierce, fiery path, A gi eat gi easy hissino red globule of wrath An explosion x~ as heard a volcanic splutter, A x olley of oaths which no Christian could utter; And the countino- ioom door came to with a flap, Like the ancient ti aditional thunder-clap, hi x~ hich evil spn its have always retired, When suddenly warned that their time has expired; And just at the moment he seemed to depart, The two cases were heard to go offon the cart! For shame ! cried Mercator, as Princeps that night, At his bountiful board, in the warm crimson light, Told about the discomfited Israelite. Charge me with my share of the ill-gotten profit, And give to the poor whatever comes of it. I wonder, old friend, how it was, when you wrote That ingenious but most disingenuous note, Your own monster fib did not stick in your throat. It did, and it does ! exclaimed Princeps; in vain My efforts to wash it down now with Champagne; A GREAT, GREASY, HISSING, RED GLOBULE OF WRATH TIJE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 11 For ill-advised words one should surely sit dumb, So I quaff, penitential, this bumper of Mumm! Oh, friends! I confess to the damaging fact, Of my virtuous life the one doubtful act, For which, I admit, it perhaps is but meet That I should do penance in some public sheet. Yet let the strict censor, while justly he blames, The sinner absolve, though the sin he proclaims; Considering this, ere he casts the first stone, Were he from down East what himself might have done, When Truth stepped aside, and Conscience withdrew, To leave a clear field for a Yankee and Jew ! WM. ALLEN BUTLER. THE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. THE Custom-house of the city of New York collects nearly five-sixths of the imposts, or duties on the imports, of the whole country. The machinery which successfully carries on such an important branch of the government was the result of Congressional legislation, in- spired hy the genius of Alexander Hamilton, and officially approved March 2, 1799. The act was entitled, An act to regulate the col- lection of duties on imports and tonnage. The work was done so well that no succeeding Con- gress, through threescore-and - ten years, has ever presumed to make the slightest material alteration; and it is probable, if the innovating spirit of the day ever invades these practically arranged details, that a less excellent system, and interminable confusion, will be the result. The administrative officers of the customs are a Collector, Naval Officer, and Surveyor. The departments under these several superior officers are independent of each other; yet, for the avoidance of too frequent appeal to the Secre- tary of the Treasury, who is the chief financial officer of the government, the Collector of the Port has certain discretionary powers. The law for the establishment of our custom-houses thus generally defines the duties of the officers named: TIlE OOLLEOTOn 5 aECEPTION-ROOM.

TIJE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 11 For ill-advised words one should surely sit dumb, So I quaff, penitential, this bumper of Mumm! Oh, friends! I confess to the damaging fact, Of my virtuous life the one doubtful act, For which, I admit, it perhaps is but meet That I should do penance in some public sheet. Yet let the strict censor, while justly he blames, The sinner absolve, though the sin he proclaims; Considering this, ere he casts the first stone, Were he from down East what himself might have done, When Truth stepped aside, and Conscience withdrew, To leave a clear field for a Yankee and Jew ! WM. ALLEN BUTLER. THE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. THE Custom-house of the city of New York collects nearly five-sixths of the imposts, or duties on the imports, of the whole country. The machinery which successfully carries on such an important branch of the government was the result of Congressional legislation, in- spired hy the genius of Alexander Hamilton, and officially approved March 2, 1799. The act was entitled, An act to regulate the col- lection of duties on imports and tonnage. The work was done so well that no succeeding Con- gress, through threescore-and - ten years, has ever presumed to make the slightest material alteration; and it is probable, if the innovating spirit of the day ever invades these practically arranged details, that a less excellent system, and interminable confusion, will be the result. The administrative officers of the customs are a Collector, Naval Officer, and Surveyor. The departments under these several superior officers are independent of each other; yet, for the avoidance of too frequent appeal to the Secre- tary of the Treasury, who is the chief financial officer of the government, the Collector of the Port has certain discretionary powers. The law for the establishment of our custom-houses thus generally defines the duties of the officers named: TIlE OOLLEOTOn 5 aECEPTION-ROOM.

TIJE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 11 For ill-advised words one should surely sit dumb, So I quaff, penitential, this bumper of Mumm! Oh, friends! I confess to the damaging fact, Of my virtuous life the one doubtful act, For which, I admit, it perhaps is but meet That I should do penance in some public sheet. Yet let the strict censor, while justly he blames, The sinner absolve, though the sin he proclaims; Considering this, ere he casts the first stone, Were he from down East what himself might have done, When Truth stepped aside, and Conscience withdrew, To leave a clear field for a Yankee and Jew ! WM. ALLEN BUTLER. THE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. THE Custom-house of the city of New York collects nearly five-sixths of the imposts, or duties on the imports, of the whole country. The machinery which successfully carries on such an important branch of the government was the result of Congressional legislation, in- spired hy the genius of Alexander Hamilton, and officially approved March 2, 1799. The act was entitled, An act to regulate the col- lection of duties on imports and tonnage. The work was done so well that no succeeding Con- gress, through threescore-and - ten years, has ever presumed to make the slightest material alteration; and it is probable, if the innovating spirit of the day ever invades these practically arranged details, that a less excellent system, and interminable confusion, will be the result. The administrative officers of the customs are a Collector, Naval Officer, and Surveyor. The departments under these several superior officers are independent of each other; yet, for the avoidance of too frequent appeal to the Secre- tary of the Treasury, who is the chief financial officer of the government, the Collector of the Port has certain discretionary powers. The law for the establishment of our custom-houses thus generally defines the duties of the officers named: TIlE OOLLEOTOn 5 aECEPTION-ROOM. 12 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. The Collector shall receive all reports, mani- fests, and documents to be mnde or exhibited on the entry of any ship or vessel; shall record, on books to he kept for that purpose, all mani- fests; shall receive the entries of all ships or vessels, and of the goods, wares, and merchan- dise imported in them; shall estimate the amount of the duties payahle thereupon, in- dorsing said amount on the respective entries; shall receive all moneys paid for duties, and take all honds for securing the payment thereof; shall, with the approbation of the Secretary of the Treasury, employ proper personagesweigh- ers, gaugers, measurers, and inspectorsat the l)ort within his district. The Naval Officer shall receive copies of all manifests and entries; shall estimate the duties on all goods, wares, and merchandise subject to duty (and no duties shall be received without such estimate), and shall keep a separate rec- ord thereof; and shall countersign all permits, clearances, certificates, debentures, and other (locuments granted hy the Collector. He shall also examine the Colleetors abstract of duties, his accounts, receipts, bonds, and expenditures, and, if found correct, shall certify the same. The Surveyor shall superintend and direct all inspectors, weighers, measurers, and gaugers; shall visit and inspect the ships and vessels; shall return in writing every morning to the Collector the name and nationality of all vessels which shall have arrived from foreign ports; shall examine all goods, wares, and merchan- (use imported, to see that they agree with the inspectors return; and shall see that all goods intended for exportation correspond with the entries, and permits granted therefor; and the said Surveyor shall, in all cases, he suhject to the Collector. The appraisers department is simply for the purpose of deciding the Qarket values and du- tiable character of all goods imported, so that the imposts can be laid with correctness. Other than this it has no connection with the Custom- house. If it were not for imposts there would he ~o custom-houses. We should therefore say, as a preliminary necessity for the full understanding of the workings of the Custom-house, that the manner or method hy which the tariff is im- posed is designated as either ad valorem ox spe- cific. Ad valorern duties are predicated upon the market price, so much per cent. on each dol- lars declared value; thus, for instance, silks, satins, and velvets are charged 60 per cent, ad valorem. Spec~fic duties are based upon the quantity of merchandise imported; thus, for instance, ev- ery pound of tea is taxed fifteen cents, the duty heing charged without regard to value. Ad valorem is considered theoretically best for the government and importer, while specific is simplest and safest. The temptation under the ad valorem system is constantly to undervalue the goods subject to impost; hence the necessity of that cum- bersome adjunct, the appraisers department. With specific duties the appraiser is almost dis- pensed withonly measurers, weighers, and gaugeis are needed. Each system has its ad- vantages and disadvantages. The English are controlled hy the ad valorem method; the na- tion of traders has decided it to be the best. Our tariff, by adopting specific and ad valorem duties, combines and exaggerates all the evils of both. The first Collector of the port of New York, under Federal organization, was General John Lamb. a distinguished officer of the Revolu- tion, who commanded at ~Yest Point at the time of Arnolds defection; a gentleman who added to a prominent military reputation the further merit of being as a private citizen an accel)ted correspondent of Washington, Clinton, Patrick Henry, and other distinguished men of his time. As the political struggles involved in the ap- pointment of a Collector of New York in this later day attract much public attention, and call forth a great deal of bitterness of feeling, personal scandal, and newspaper comment, it may possiI)ly be a subject of some curious in- terest to recall the fact that the appointment of General Lamh by President Washington was the end of a struggle for office as fierce and bitter as ever preceded such an event under any succeeding administration. The first session of Congress after the election of President and Vice-President was held in New York, and as a result General Washing- ton even more than his successors, was imme- diately surrounded by all the aspirants for the office, their friends, and the local excitement. It was urged that General Lamb was a polit- ical oJ)1)oneat of tke President, ~vhich was true and, moreover, that General Lamb, though it GENERAL JOhN LAMa. THE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 13 was known he desired the appointment, would not personally ask for it. The political ob- jection Washington did not consider, but he was much embarrassed because General Lamb would not apply in person for the office. The old soldier, however, resolutely refused to move from this determination. To all friends he said, No man knows better than the President whether I have acquired claims upon the gov- ernment by services to the country. For sev- eral days the President withheld the nomination, and such men as Alexander Hamilton, Colonel Troup, the Clintons, the Rutgers, Colonel Wil- lett, and Colonel Burr were active in effecting the final decision. On the 6th day of August, 1789, General Lambs name was sent to the Senate, and he was unanimously confirmed. Upon the announcement there was intense indignation among the political friends of the administration. They said that a man who came near having his house burued down be- cause of his unrelenting opposition to the tri- uml)hant party was, nevertheless, the recip- ient of the best paying office in the gift of the government; and thus was set the precedent for the political squabbles and heart-burnings which have been more or less prevalent ever since over the nomination of a Collector of the port of New York. General Lamb occupied as a private resi- dence what was in its day considered a first- class housea two-story and atticsituated in Wall Street, corner of Gardners ~Lane, now known as Hanover Street. In the back-room, ground-floor, the newly appointed official, with one clerk to assist him, in the fall of the year 1789, opened in New York the first Ctistom- house under Federal authority. Previously to this time the importations from abroad and at home, into New York city, were made under provincial laws. Very little is preserved re- garding these early times. One authentic item is probably characteristic of the coast-wise trade, viz., we have mention that the Snow, loaded with water-melons, arrived from Patchogue, Long Island. From the private residence of the first Col- lector, the Custom-house was removed into the old Government House, then opposite Bowl- iug Green, and facing the Battery. It remained there a number of years, and was then estab- lished in a four-story brick building corner of Nassau and Pine streets, where it remained un- til it was established in the really splendid ed- ifice corner of Wall and Nassau, fronting on Broad Street. This building was erected un- der the administration of General Jackson, and at the time was cited by political opponents, and with great effect, as one of the evidences of the extravagance and corruption of the party in power. Although built for a permanent Custom-house, the commerce of the country in- creased so rapidly that the building never af- forded accommodation for the demand made upon its resources. In the year 1863 the government leased, and subsequently bought for $1,000,000, the present Custom-house, originally built as the Mer- chants Exchange. The whole front on Wall Street is simply afefade of solid granite, coin- posed of square blocks and heavy-looking col- umns of bluish-gray granite. On the whole front there is not a window the utility of which is not almost or entirely destroyed by the follies of the original design. The rotunda, which is the noticeable room of the building, is, from the floor to the spring of the dome, nearly a hun- dred feet in height, and is so situated as to ab- solutely absorb all the available space of one of the most valuable squares of ground in any city of the world. All the rest of the rooms, facing on four streets, are small, badly shaped, and, from their thick walls, are as dark as casemates, and suggest to the most casual observer the in- tenor of a vast and dilapidated fortress, turned to the use of people engaged in civil pursuits. The desks in the rotunda run parallel with the wall, and form one large and one interior circle, with space between to accommodate the hundreds of people who have business ~vith the Custom-house officials. To the rotunda are assigned the deputy-collectors and clerks, whose services are demanded in all the preliminary and closing acts of business routine. Here are four deputy-collectors, three chief clerks, five entry clerks, bond clerk and assist- ant; chief clerk, and foreign clearance clerk, and his two assistants; three amend- meut clerks, three order clerks, two in- voice clerks, and two coast-wise clerks. These designated officials include those who come in constant contact with the merchants, brokers, coast-wise captains, and all others who, not knowing where to go, rush into the rotun- da, and ask questions, and finally get the in- formation they desire, and are happy, or become so confused that they retire in disgust. The hours of business are from 10 AM. to 3 Flu.; and in all that time, to the uninitiated, it is a babel of confusion and discordant tongues. rhe moment, however, the four-faced clock, which forms such a conspicuous object on its slender column, erected in the very centre of the rotunda, through its long and short hands indicates the hour of 3 F.M., no ghosts at cock- crowing more rapidly vanish into thin air, or more effectually disappear, than do the mem- bers of the noisy crowd which for five hours have kept alive the interior of this great room, dedicated to commerce. It is not generally known, but visitors, es- pecially ladies, are always welcome to the gal- leries which command this scene of industry, and, without intruding or interfering with the busy crowd below, can overlook one of the most interesting and instructive sights to be witnessed in this city. Attached to all the departments of the Cus- tom-house are some eleven hundred clerks, whose united pay amounts to about $250,000 per month. The Collectors stated salary per annum is $6000; deputy-collectors, $3000. 14 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. From this last-named sum the remuneration rapidly decreases down to $500 per annum, paid the humble sweepers and messengers, The cus- toms on imports are collected in the New York Custom-house at a cost of from one to one and a half per cent.greatly less than in the internal revenue department, and just half of what it costs to collect the imposts in England. In fact, so economically conducted is the NewYork Custom- house regarding its expenses that the govern- ment literally pays nothing; for the fees col- lected on entries, protests, registers, and other documents amount, in the course of a year, to a sum quite equal to the salaries paid to all the officers legitimately attached to departments. As it is the business of the Custom-house to collect duties on foreign importations, we will illustrate, as far as possible, from a literal ex- ample, the manner of the proceeding, by going through some of the details connected with the purchase and introduction into the country of what is called an invoice of merchandise, Messrs. Morton, Briggs, and Co., merchants, residing in New York city, desire to import certain goods, which, on this occasion, were bought on the frontier of France, and shipped from Hamburg. The agent of these merchants at that city, according to instructions, buys the merchandise named, and then makes out in- voices in triplicate, viz., three detailed descrip- tions, including their quantity, quality, and cost. The American consul residing at Hamburg cer- tifies that the agent personally appeared before him, and made a declaration, under oath, of the UNITFu STATES cUSTOM-ROusE, WALL STREET, NEW YORK, THE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 15 truth of this invoice. The consul is further required to file one copy of the in- voice in his office, to de- liver another to the agent of Morton, Briggs, and Co., and to transmit the third to the Collector of the port of New York. The goods are in the mean time placed on hoard of the steamship George Washiagton, in the port of Hamburg, with a hill of lading made out hy the shipping agent, which is personally signed hy the officer of the vessel who receives the goods. The steamer starts on her voyage, hound forNe~v York, and, by means of the ocean telegraph, that fact is instantly known on this side of the Atlantic. At Sandy I-look, the gate- way to our magnificent harhor, is a United States telegraph station and look-out. Vessels in- ward-hound, the moment they are discovered, are announced from Sandy hook to the old Barge- office, the head-quarters of the inspectors attached to the surveyors depart- ment. This Barge-office is the small white and pictur- esque and most familiar structure on the Battery, which has been for more than a quarter of a century an object of interest to people inward-hound from a long seavoyage. Built, from the necessity of its location, on piles, every strongly heating wave that rolls from the prow of a steam-driven craft rocks it to and fro, after the manner of a scow at anchor. This writhing and twisting has had the effect to crack and tear down more or less of the plaster- ing of the interior walls, and to let in the search- ing rain through the shingled roof. To these primitive defects must be added the wear and tear consequent upon nearly two hundred in- spectors and other United States officials of the customs, with innumerable hangers-on, who, when off duty, make it their head-quarters. rhe result is that the interior of the Barge-office is entitled to the distinction of being the most dilapidated and repulsive (so far as the mate- rials of the strncture are concerned) of any pub- lic edifice in any Christian country under the sun. But it suggests an apology for its want of neatness and general beauty, and claims even our admiration, on account of the jolly little cupola on its top, which, though modest enough through the day, at sundown opens its bright, cheerful eye, throws its glancing welcome over the bay, and winks and blinks and coquets, as only a revolving light can, with all the way- ward craft imprudent enough to be out in the harbor after dark. The Surveyors deputy, ~vho has charge of the inspectors, on the announcement that the steamship George IVasAiagtoa is off soundings, selects two officers, at the moment unemploy- ed, and they are at once, in a revenue cutter, dispatched to the steamer. From the moment the inspectors go on board the passengers bag- gage and the cargo are in charge of the United States officials. On the arrival at the dock the passengers are first attended to; and, to facili ROTUNDA OF TUE cusToM-DousE. 16 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. tate matters, their property is examined on the ship, and in all cases where no evidence exists of any attempt at fraud, an appraisement is made, the duty collected, and the passengers go ashore. The inspectors attention is next called to the delivery of the cargo, and every individ- ual package, bale, or case is noted by them, and the final result, with the ships manifest, is sent to the Surveyors office. On this return of the inspectors ~vill be found, among the oth- ers, the packages imported by Messrs. Morton, Briggs, and Co., their marks correctly copied, the bonded warehouse to which they are as- signed, and the day of the week, the month, and year of their arrival, and the name of the ship in ~vhich they were imported. The invoice of the goods, now in possession of the merchant, is placed in the hands of a broker, who proceeds to make out an entry according to the form prescribed by law, which entry is in duplicateone copy for the Collect- or and one for the Naval Office. The entry in this form, stating in full all the particulars re- quired, together with the invoice and bill of lading, are presented to an entry clerk in the rotunda, who examines the entry by the invoice and bills of lading; and, if found correct, will, on the entry, estimate the duties on the invoice value and quantity, certify the invoice, and grant a permit in due form for the final de- livery of the goods, and also calculate and mark on the entry the American gold value of the foreign certification of value. The entry and accompanying papers are then taken to the Na- val Office, where like examinations and calcu- lations are made; and, if found correct, the Na- val Office entry clerk checks the entry, invoice, and permit. The papers are then taken to the rotunda again, and a deputy-collector admin- isters the oath, and designates the package or packages to be sent to the appraisers stores for examination, marking the same on the entry, invoice, and permit. To the entry is also at- tached the proper inland revenue stamp, which on an entry of $500 and upward is $1. All this having been done, we now have the entry with what may be called its first statement; while, upon examination, it will he perceived that the francs are turned into American curren- cy, and the duties are $1927, and checked by the Collectors cashierPaid, January 1, 1870. J. T. C. The boxes sent to the appraisers stores are opened, and the experts proceed to examine their contents; and they note upon the invoice that they find that case 2606 contains embroid- ered and cotton lace curtains; that 2610 con- tains colored cottons, 250 X 39 inchesover 100 and under 200 threads to the square inchde- manding 54 cents per square yard (specific) and 20 per cent. (ad valorem) duty. The ap- praisers also return one case (2605) colored gingham handkerchiefsover 100 and under 200 threads to the square inchdemanding 64 cents per square yard (specific) and 15 pet cent. (ad valorem) duty; and classify the re maining cases as containing embroidered cot- ton lace curtains, demanding 35 per cent. (ad valorem) duty. These nice calculations of the numher of threads to the square inch are made with a powerful glass, which is so adjusted that it mag- nifies a lined off square inch sufficiently to easi- ly count the threads. The invoice, with these carefully made cal- culations marked thereon, is sent to an amend- ment clerk in the rotunda, who col)ies the re- turn made by the appraisers with red inkia which ink all subsequent alterations are made and then proceeds to make up the duty ac- cording to the appraisers report, without anx regard to the original calculations of the entry clerk. By this second examination it will be seen that the amendment clerk finds the duties, in- stead of $1927, to be $2069 73, making an increase due the government of $142 73; and this statement will be found ~vritten on the en- try, over the internal revenue stamp. The hroker, on behalf of Morton, Briggs, and Co., objects to the classification of the apprais- ers on case 2610, and calls for a reconsidera- tion; which reconsideration is always granted. The invoice is returned by the Collector to the appraisers, with instructions to reconsider. Now the appraisers, on re-examination of the goods, acknowledge their error, and reclassify case 2610, and return it as colored cottons un- der 100 threads to the square inch, and under five ounces to the square yard. They had pie- viously stated that the colored cottons contain- ed over 100 and under 200 threads to the square inch. This apparently slight difference in the text- ure, which is only discovered by microscopic examination, changes the entire duty from 5~ cents a square yard, and 20 per cent., to 34 cents a square yard, and 10 per cent. The specific duty is lessened nearly one-half, and the ad valorem duty just one-half; and this radical change is predicated on the number of threads contained in the square inch. The invoice thus corrected is returned again to the amendment clerk, who crosses off, as will be perceived, his first statement, and then goes to work and makes up an eutirely new calcula- tion, the sum total of which is $1959 99mak- ing the increase due the government $32 99, instead of $142 73. It will be perceived by this, at best, very im- perfect statement of the routine of the Custom- house, that three distinct calculations have been made upon the entry before the final result is reached. And this is not one-half the work done, be- cause the same routine is pursued in the Naval Office, acting as if it were in no way connected with the Collectors departmentthe Naval Of- fice, in accordance with the fundamental law, acting as a check on the Collectors office; and the final auditing check of the Naval office is indicated on this entry by the letters B. 31. 0. TILE NEW Y~RK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 0 z 0 17 18 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. In the mean time the boxes at the appraisers office are nailed up, corded, and sealed, and no- tice is sent to Messrs. Morton, Briggs, and Co. that they owe the government $32 99 addition- al duty; upon which being paid the goods at the appraisers office are delivered into the merchants possession. rhe three statements of duties, it will be no- ticed, stand as follows: First one $1927 00 Deposit amount paid. Second one.... $2069 73 Objected to by merchant. Third one $1959 99 Final duty. The $32 99 being paid in addition to the first-stated amount. Such is a meagre outline of the routine at- tending the calculation and collection of duties upon an entry, which is one of the simplest and least complex examples that probably could be given as an illustration. The popular idea of the business of a Col- lector of the port of New York is that he is cre- ated to distribute political rewards to needy office-seekers. This fallacy comes from many natural causes. His official duties, which are arduous and most responsible, are quietly per- formed. A thousand intricate questions are constantly discussed affecting the interests of merchants, shippers, and importers of which the law creates the Collector the arbiter, and holds him pecuniarily responsible if he makes a mistake. With this responsibility upon his shoulders, he has added to the legitimate cares and perplexities those more annoying which come from his political relations with the ad- ministration placing him in power. He may make suggestions to the head of the Treasury Department which are of incalculable benefit to the commerce of the country; he may lessen the expenses of the Custom-house; he may ~vi n golden opinions for his good sense and patient industry from the merchants and importersbut these things call forth no pub- lic notice. They are not sensational, and the press is silent. But the whirligigs of politics, however in- significant, are sources of unfailing attention. The partisans and office-seekers, who often, day after day, block np the ante-room of the Collectors office, make public opinion; and the press, though a questionable advocate, is a pos- itive censor. The hopes, successes, and disap- pointments of a fe~v active, energetic individ- uals excite more sympathy and create more no- toriety than does the faithful management of the vast machinery which successfully and cheaply collects almost the entire imposts of the country, and affords facilities to a worlds commerce. Passing from one of the narrow corridors which thread the court of the Custom-house building, you step into an ante-room, which is in charge of a messenger and the Collectors private secretary. Then passing through a narrow hall-way, you reach the Collectors re- ception-room, the windows of which look out upon William and Wall streets. In the centre of t.his room is the desk of the special deput) collector, who performs the general duties o~ the department. The ante-room adjoining, the entrance to which is festooned by the national ensign, is the Collectors private office. A curious history ~vould be the incidents con- nected with these two rooms. A little observ- ation enables one to discriminate in the often waiting crowd between the business man and the seeker for an office. The sturdy, weather- beaten skipper, abashed though he may be by the number of ~vell-dressed l)eople around him, carries no marks of subserviency or depend- ence on his honest face. He has a plain. straightforward story to tell the Collector about his craft; and when he has finished he leaves the presence with the satisfaction of having done his duty; he wants no favorsnothing but his rights. That tall and remarkably well-preserved man, so scrupulously dressed, and who but for his white hair and whiskers would pass for forty years of age, is one of our oldest and most hon- ored merchants. He has argosies on every sea. The Collector leaves all to attend to him. The statement is clearly made, the answer given, the two shake hands arid separate, every thing seems satisfactory and agreeable. But the crowd still remains; you can see from the anxious faces, and the patient sitting for long hours, that there is other business than looking after comn~rcial matters. It is painful sometimes to witness the nervous anxiety of these office-seekers, whose present life, and the happiness of those dependent upon them, are centred in the success of their pursuit. They fumble over their letters of recommendation and indorsement, they grow weary, and become charged with self-debasement, as, unnoticed, time wears on. A thousand applicants for fifty loaves of bread. The Collector himself, depend- ent upon political influence for his position, can not treat rudely these men, whose earnest efforts have contributed more or less to his ele- vation. As an administration wears on, and the Col- lector gets firmer in his seat, he devotes mere time to his legitimate duties, and less to polit UNSUCJE5SFUL oswieE-sEEiiaa. THE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 7~~7 ical necessities. From six days of the week, to receive applications for appointments, we find eventually three days are designated, and at last comes the fearful announcement on the outside entrance of the Collectors sanctum that no more applications for office will be re- ceived. The crowd that surges against this barrier is angry and jolly by turns. The man ~vitb his arms full of indorsemeats is jostled by the rough, whose effective claim for favor is tbat he broke up a primary meeting of tbe opposition, and punched tbe head of tbe gen- tleman who protested against his method of proceeding, he did. Office-seekers, as much as they are ridiculed and denounced by tbe outs, are the legit- imate fruit of our democratic institutions. Dreamers may talk of civil service bills, wbere merit alone is to keep and command the patronage of tbe government; hut such uto- pianism as this is only practicable where the political power is no longer with the masses. Under our present organization of government tbe offices, from the President down to the humblest applicant for patronage, are the prop- erty of the electors at the polls, and must be by them distributed, as a rule, for political serv- ices, capacity being of secondary consideration. The constant change of clerks which char- acterizes the operation of the present system is, after all, a greater hardship on the individ- uals than on the public; for it does not neces- sarily follow that the government is deprived of the constant services of men who show great capacity for special departments of business. Mr. C. P. Clinch, the Assistant Collector of the port of New York, has been in office more than thirty years. Probably, although miserably paid, he has brought to bear and given an ad- Ininistrative ability to the service of the gov- ernment which, if directed to his personal in- terests, would have made him one of the most eminent and successful of our leading business men. To him are referred all matters pertaining to the practical detail and judicial meaning of the tariff or revenue laws; and we presume that his clear head, vast experience, and entire recol- lection of all laws of precedence have saved the government millions of dollars; and he has 19 4)FFIOE-5EEKERS AT TH DOOR OF TIlE cOLLEcTORs OFFIcE. 20 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. at the same time done justice fearlessly, when the merchants had just claims upon the public treasury. Mr. S. G. Ogden, the head of the first divi- sion, tile auditors department, has held his position more than twenty-five years. On him rests the responsible duty of accounting to the treasury for all disbursements, returns of du- ties, and excess of deposits, drawbacks, ad- justments of damages, statistics of imports, exports, tonnage; he has also the archives and records, and correspondence relating to his di- vision, in his keeping. Mr. Ogden has been frequently solicited to take charge of important monetary institutions offering liberal salaries and facilities for business; but he has main- tained, at a sacrifice of wealth, his position in the Custom-house, and has administered his responsible duties with unvarying satisfaction to the government, and the vast constituency which, as claimants on the public treasury, do business at his office. Illustrative of the per- fect system which prevails in this important division of the Custom-house, it is only neces- sary to state that there is forwarded to the Treasury Department at Washington, each day, the current amount that has been collected as fees and duties; and we presume that this daily bulletin is a sort of monetary index to the Sec- retary of the Treasury, indicating the confi- dence of the importing merchants in the present. and prospective prosperity of the country. The subjoined table shows the amount of duties collected during the last three years. It not only gives the amount collected, but also the gradual increase in three ye~ rs: 1868 113 29 712 62 1869 125,019,718 09 1879 13 ,37t1,99555 The oldest office-holder in the Custom-house is Mr. Von Buskirk, Assistant to the Survey- ora gentleman over eighty years of ige; and, as may be supposed, he has many remark- ble intellectual qualifications for the perform- ance of the duties of his office, as well as ex- traordinary physical health. He was appointed January 7, 1831, under the administration of General Andrew Jackson; and for forty years, from his having had his head-quarters at the Barge-office, his face has been familiar to the im- porters and sea-faring men of our city. Under his orders are the inspectors (nearly two hun- dred in number, who are placed in charge of the arriving ships), and consequently Mr. Von Buskirk may be said to have the foreign com- merce of our harbor under his immediate su- pervision. All the details of the duties of unlading ships, and seeing that they are properly dis- patched on their voyages, are under his control; and when ambitious superior officers have pre- sumed to depart from his established usage, the change, when put in practice, has heen found unadvisable. His memory is so perfect that he can recall instantly the name of any inspector on duty, and state on what ship he is stationed, or if he is waiting orders. And the vast routine and particulars of six months work are equally at his command. Until within a few years that is, up to seventyhe made it his daily business to visit every s/up under his charge in the harbor of New York, and to personally see that his subordinates were doing their duty. His official station and personal merits always commanded marked attention from the masters of these vessels, but he woul not accept even the slightest refreshment; yet he always exacts for his representatives, while on duty, cabin fare and a sailors proverbial hospitality. His life has been absolutely absorbed by the duties of his position. In illustrating them by word or performance he is intelligent, quick, and full of interesting reminiscences; but he never seems to take the slightest interest in matters outside of his world. As ships arrive on Sunday as well as week- days, he has never had a moments release from jona L. voa ausania. labor. From sunrise to sunset, all the year round, seven days in the week, he has ever been at his post; and, what is most remarkable, his strong constitution and temperate habits have narrowed down his loss of thne by sick- ness in a quarter of a century to less than an average of six hours in a year. He may be said to never go above Twentieth Street; and the last time he was in the Central Park was as a soldier in the war of 1812, when he was stationed at MGowans Passa picturesque ravine near the still existing remains of the old powder-house. The active generation about and in the Cus- tom-house has no recollection of th~ t institu- tion except as associated with the familiar face of Louise. For a quarter of a century, at least, she has, by prescriptive right only, had her little stand of cake and fruit in the vestibule of the Naval Office. Reticent and remarkably quiet, she has attended to her business, and through good and ill times has pursued her way with a regularity only equaled by the old doe of Trinity. She was a buxom lass some few THE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 21 LOUISE. years ago, and now gives a picturesque interest to the grim business-like associations with which she is surrounded. Administrations rise and disappear, collectors and others, men of the hour, flourish and pass away, but Louise seems to he destined yet to outlive many dy- nasties, illustrating, in her humble way, that contentment, constant employment, and out-of- door pursuits, are the most valuable adjuncts of life. The practical man of the Custom-house, not officially connected with it, is the broker. Ife has the peculiarities and idiosyncrasies of his profession as distinctly marked as are those of the lawyer and doctor. His dealings are with Custom-house clerks; and as these clerks are made up of the most multifarious materials, in- cluding men who, in their better days, were merchants, bankers, emhassadors, governors of States, and so running down to the rough, who represents the scum of a ward primary meeting, the broker has to play many parts to accom- plish easy-going success. If eminent in his business, he is posted up in all the charges and complications of the different tariffs, and in all the laws and Supreme Court decisions affecting them. He knows, at sight, the exact way through which every kind of goods imported must pass to reach the retailers counter. The broker is a necessity to the merchant; and it is infinitely cheaper to call in his assistance than for the merchant to attempt to manage his Custom- house business himself. The largest importing houses pay specific salaries, and have their brokers, the same as they do their other clerks. The lab or of running one entry through all ~ its stages of examinations, liquidations, and checks is almost as much work as fifty. Five dollars is the current fee for passing an entry; and as brokers, under a press of business, will sometimes get through fifty a day, it is not sur- prising that they acquire handsome fortunes. The animal income of some of these men is more than the salary of the President of the United States, and often two or three times larger than the stated pay of the Collector of the Port. But entries are most frequently in their course like true love, and do not necessarily run smoothly. Weeks and months may be consumed in the preliminaries of a final settlement. An invoice, where there are two or more to one entry, in its circulation through the fifty differ- cut hands of the Custom-house clerks, may be- come mislaid. A delay occurs in having an in- voice reconsidered. The gauger may make a mistake; the weigher may have neglected some article enumerated. An amendment clerk in the Collectors office cant agree with the amendment clerk of the Naval Office as regards the amount of duty. Some article may be im- ported not clearly indicated in the details of the tariff, and a decision must be obtained from the Treasury Department at Washington. A simple parasol, by being composed of wood, silk, steel, whalebone, and an ivory handle, has every element of possible discussion involved as to its legitimate l)lace for duty consideration. The importer, if his interests suffer, as they oft- en do, by this, to him, unnecessary routine, relieves his pent-up and impotent indignation in loud denunciations of the Custom-house of- ficials, and holds them responsible for personal- ly interfering with his legitimate business, when really these officials have every desire, from natural inclination and official pride, to get through with the work, but are helpless to move except within the requirements of that imper- ative law of the Custom-house, Alexander Hamiltons Act of 1799. lAvoIuTE OF THE PRIMARY. 22 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. The broker, as a general rule, if he has any sentiment at all, has a great unexpressed and undemonstrated contempt for the Custom-house clerk. That dignitary, however ignorant or disagreeable he may be, has infinite opportunity to oblige the broker, and he also commands the red tape, by which he can, if so disposed, tie up the brokers power to expedite business. The broker also knows that he can make no- thing by deceiving a new appointee, for in the course of his, the brokers, routine he must come in contact with some old mousing clerk, somewhere in the labyrinths of the Custom- house, who, understanding his duties, will do nothing until the mistake is corrected. The consequence is that no ~varm friendships or ex- Pressed dislikes characterize the intercourse of brokers and Custom-house officials. The Custom-house also has its brokers, whose miserable incomes are eked out by charging not only their legitimate fees, but by adding good round additions, for moneys, they say, given to Custom-house clerks to obtain unusual facilities every c eat represented to be thus paid going into the pockets of the unprincipled agent. These unworthy representatives also get a few dimes, wrongfully taken, from smack cap- tains and down East skippers. In these de- generate times every profession, from divinity to custom-house brokerage, has its black sheep. The Custom-house brokers boy is a wonder- ful creation pf artificial humanityone of the most curious parasites, indeed, which, like a barnacle, fasten on the great carcass of com- merce. His chief business is to take an entry THE BROKERS BOY. and travel through the intricate passages of the building, and get the proper officials to put or. the entry the proper checks and they do this difficult work after the manner a Skye terrier hunts a rat. They know all the different di- visions in the building, whether of the Col- lector, Naval Officer, or Surveyor. They know the particular value of these departments, and the clerks at the head of them, whom they des- ignate among themselves not by their names, but by some supposed personal peculiarity. Hence their language is very technical, and only understood among themselves. They have all the cheek of a full-blossomed bro- ker, added to a want of reverence for any thing on the earth, or under it, which is frightful to c~mternplate. They can be seen, in business hours, running about from division to division, flaunting a paper in front of their faces, yelling, whistling, and calling to each other. Reaching the de- sired desk, they rudely squirm in front of some old gentleman, and others of more juvenile ap- pearance, waiting their turn, thrust their documents in the clerk~s face, and are wait- ed on instantly, to get them out of the way. At the precise hour of 3 P.M. they mysterious- ly disappear. We have spent much time and observation to see a Custom-house brokers boy after that hour, but all in vain; and we have somotimes nearly admitted the conclusion that they are packed away, when not officially en- gaged, in some of the old vaults which in Wall Street are said to yawn under the temples ded- icated to Mammon. Brokers, in addition to their daily business, act as claim agents, and, taking advantage of oversights, frequently make large sums. A few years ago one of these claim agents dis- covered that a very important concession to the merchant, established in 1799, namely, the draft, or an allowance of one pound to every hundred pounds of weighable goods, had fallen into disuse, and was no longer observed by Custom-house officials. The claim agent went ~uietly to merchants of his acquaintance, and them that in certain transactions they nan pate too much duties. The natural ar- rangeu~ent in such cases followed, the mer- chant agreeing to pay a large percentage of all moneys recovered from the government. When the agent had obtained the business of a sufficient number of importers he com- menced protesting and appealing against the liquidation of weighable goods without allow- ance for draftviz., the turning of the bar in weighing in favor of the merchant. The broker had but six months to carry on his business of claiming drawbacks when the Secretary of the Treasury saw the point, and very properly obtained the passage of a law by Congress abolishing the draft ; and yet, in that short time, there was recovered from the United States, as (luties unjustly paid, over eighty thousand dollars in gold. high tariffs and high duties are encouragers THE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 23 of illicit traffic and smuggling. Just as we ap- proach free trade the inducement to defraud the government ceases to exist. The ingenuity displayed by smugglers, under the present cx- istiug order of things, affords, in its illustration, the most amusing, and often the most melan- choly, incidents connected with the collection of the customs. Smuggling on the person assumes the most varied forms, and volumes of illustrative anecdotes could be collected. The two im- portant questions asked the passenger upon landing on our shores by the Custom-house de- tective are: Have you any thing dutiable about you? Have you more than one watch ? If these questions are answered in the nega- tive, and the slightest suspiciots exists of pre- varication, a strict search ensues. The inge- unity of the smuggler, especially in concealing jewels, furnishes most remarkable instances. Even the ears and the nostrils have been made temporary depositories of valuable diamonds. The success generally of these desperate expe- dients depends entirely upon the nerve of the ])arty interested. Many a smuggler has es- caped detection after the severest personal ex- amination, but at last excited suspicion, and subsequent exposure, by a want of po~er over his or her nervons system. An illustration of this kind of betrayal oc- curred where a man of the most favorable ap- pearance, upon saying he had but one watch, broke into a profuse perspiration. But for this he would have departed in peace. A strict search resulted in finding nothing, and upon hearing this decision he sank back in a chair, utterly prostrated. This tell-tale weakness provoked a third examination, when two ladys watches, very small in size, but of great value, vere found, covered with pitch and then buried one under each of his armpits. Very young infants and small children are used as instruments for smuggling. On one occasion an immigrant family, man and wife and two nearly grown-up daughters, presented themselves. They were very affable and easy in their manners, and, without much trouble to them, were pronounced all right ; and while the proper proceedings were in progress for their dismissal one of the officers saw a handsome lit- tle boy standing alone, and, struck by his attract- ive appearance, and not knowing to whom he belonged, he spoke to the child, and attempted to sky-lark with him. The officer was sur- prised to find the child could not bend his body; on examination it was found that his clothing was quilted with valuable articles of silk manufacture and silver spoons. The little fello~v belonged to the family the members of which had just been pronounced all right. A gentlemanly looking but poorly clad pas- senger, from his intelligent expression of face and agreeable manners, was treated with marked consideration. The officers were so easily satisfied that he was honest that they took no special notice of a stuall lap-cloth, much worn, which was hanging on his arm. A detective, at the time off duty, noticed a carriage waiting for some person, and asked the driver for whom it was intended, and Jehn pointed to the passenger who was approaching with the lap-cloth, as usual, on his armn. There was something apparently inconsistent in hav- ing a carriage for such a man. A suspicion be- ing excited, the officer seized the lap-cloth. On a critical search it was found to be lined or padded with Brussels lace, that sold, at pub- lic auction, for eleven thousand dollars. The fool smuggler is illustrated by a man, said to be from the western part of the State of New York, who got a dianmond worth sixteen thou- sand dollars safely through without paying the duties. This gem he sold for its full value, and subsequently bragged of his smartness. The fact came to the knowledge of the gov- ernment, and the proceeds of the sale were con- fiscated. Ladies are always particularly restive under the examinations of Custom-house detectives~ and, however well or delicately treated, feel themselves aggrieved, especially at the different estimate from their own the official puts upon what is a wardrobe. We may be pardoned possibly if we add here, as the result of the vast experience of the oldest and most skilled gov- ernment officers, that they never saw a woman, whatever may have been her social condition, who did not, under any and all circumstances, complain of tariff laws as an imposition and legalized robbery. And we add, as a conse- quence, that when the sex achieve suffrage, free-traders will ever be in ascendency in the halls of Congress. As smugglers, women are more successful than men. The complications of their dress favor the business. The modern chignon was for a time a most excellent depository for smuggled goods. A woman is remembered who was so successful that she was constantly crossing the ocean for the purpose, and in a few years acquired a handsome competency. It is a strange metamorphosis that these adventurers sometimes undergo ~vhen caught in their work. Some years since a very pretty woman, remark- able for a full bust, broad hips, and plethoric person generally, presented herself for examin- ation. She was very polite and affable, and came very near escaping detection. Bat the female detective then employed at Castle Gar- den no sooner put her eyes on the rotund fig- ure of the object under inspection than she invited the party to a private intervie~v. It was incredible what a change was soon effect- ed. Suffice it to say that the apparently well- fed and portly dame of a few moments before, stripped of innumerable dry-goods, stepped into public gaze reduced to a wonderfully thin and rather skeletonized individual. As there is no penalty for smuggling on the person except forfeiture, she went sorrowfully away. Our laws are even more merciful than this; for all goods thus seized can be redeemed, though con- 24 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. fiscated, by the payment of an honestly made appraisement. These personal seizures have the merit of novelty, but do little to affect the aggregate revenue. The smuggling that is of national importance is carried on by importers of mer- chandise. It is the duty of an importer to add to the first cost of his goods the usual commis- sions; next, all inland charges, by railroad or otherwise, from the place where the purchase was made to the point of shipment; and he is to take from the invoice no discount that is not allowed by the seller. This means, that when the goods reach New York their entire cost should be on the invoice, and on this cost the duty is assessed; and if this is not done, the government is defrauded, and the goods are liable to forfeiture. The most destructive smuggling to the inter- ests of the government is therefore carried on by importers who, in spite of all precautions, manage to successfully undervalue the cost of their goods. This is most successfully done by a collusion between the manufacturer in Europe and the importer here, through means of false invoices, and by false swearing, which perjury is generally done by an attorney. This machinery also includes sending private letters of what is the real cost of the goods misrepre- sented on the invoice. The manufacturer in Europe who has his agent here for the sale of his merchandise can manipulate his business so as to export his mer- chandise under the smallest rate of tariff duty that is possible within the law. The foreign cx- porter is therefore able to undersell in the mar- ket the American merchant who has no partner- ship with European houses. For this reason, or some other, the importing business is almost en- tirely in the bands of foreign merchants. Our native business men, even when they buy in the same market with their more successful rivals, of the same manufacturers, importing in the same ships, and paying the same rate of duties, are, by some infallible cause they can not un- derstand, driven from the field. The quarterly sale of unclaimed goods in times past was a spirited afhLir, because the purchasers had the excitement which attends placing ones interest on chance. In the vast amount of business done at the New York Cus- tom-house it is not remarkable that large quan- tities of merchandise, for which no owner ap- pears, accumulate in the public stores. Some of this property is abandoned from the death of the shippers; lost to the o~vners because of mis- direction, or left unclaimed from inaMity to pay the duties. At all events, the collection is a curious one, and includes altuost every thing known and unknown in commerce, in size varying from huge boxes of factory ma- chinery down to a photograph in a laper case. Until recently this debris was sold as it was re- ceived, without being examined by the Custom- house officers. An immense box, for instance, marked with some mysterious combination of letters, covered over with marks obtained in foreign ports, would be put up by the govern- ment auctioneer. The speculative customers had a line field for the imagination: this box FzMALz SMUGGLER aEFORE EXAMINATION. FEMALE SMUGGLER AFTER EXAMINATION. THE NEW YORK CUSTOM-HOUSE. 25 might be filled with costly silks or fine laces; a fortune would possibly be made by its pos- session. The bidding is spirited. Tbe lucky purchaser carts bis prize home; with trembling bands and eager eyes be tears asunder the ob- truding boards, andfinds that he is the hap- py owner of a botanists herbarium, the dead and dried leaves crumbling under his touch, as if symbolical of the vanity of his disappointed hopes. A cask of liquor brought from the sunniest side of France: experienced eyes perceive that it is intact; it may he brandy of the purest quality; possibly an importation of some epi- curean millionaire, who died of the gout before the brandy reached our harbor. There is a chance to tickle the palate and fill the purse. Down goes the prize to the speculator. He starts the hunga sour, gaseous exhalation stings his nose; and what might have been the cheapest of manufactured claret is now vinegar of unhealthy smell and taste. But prizes were sometimes obtained. By accident the costly scientific revolving machin- ery of a light-house was sold for a few dollars to a lucky purchaser, which the government me- deemed at its intrinsic value. An old, time-~vorn box, two feet square, filled with second-hand clothing, designated by unintelligible marks, left, it was supposed, in Custom-house hands by some poor immigrant, was knocked down at a nominal sum of a few shillings to a pro- fessed snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. The purchaser found his prize to consist of a well- worn dressing-gown of decidedly coarse mate- rials. The impulse was to throw it in the fire, or sell it for paper rags. A second thought, and a close examination,resulted in finding this old rohe, instead of being lined with raw cot- ton, made thick and comfortable by innumer- able layers of the finest Brussels lace, the com- mercial value of which proved to be several thou- sand dollars. The custom now is to open all unclaimed goods, and sell them hy their appraised value. In spite of this, the speculative spimit often pushes its victims on to absurd purchases. Quite recently a piece of har steel, two inches square hy five inches long, evidently imported as a fine specimen by some one interested in the manufacture of the article, was placed be- fore the crowd, and its character and value fairly stated. Yet the idea obtained that this was something preciousthat a smuggler had put in this form silver and goldand a large price was obtained. A box containing old family plate of quaint pattern, broken and much worn, of Sheffield manufacture, was in- sisted upon by the suspicious as being silver in disguise. Prices were again liberal; and the assayer of the junk-shop, and not the buyer, was eventually benefited. This curious dispo- sition on the part of certain people to venture large sums at auction upon things sold un- sight and unseen displays itself not only in the Custom-house, but where hotels and express companies on the same plan dispose of unclaimn- ed goods to the disciples of Fortuna, the most capricious of all the gods. Mistakes of newly fledged officials are some- times amusing. A newly appointed inspector was sent to the wharf to discharge a cargo from a recently arrived vessel. Some time having elapsed, and no report coming to the Surveyors office, the delinquent official, on be- ing questioned, stated that he had discharged the goods to the owners, without permits or other red tape emnbarrassments, and appear- ed to be thoroughly satisfied ~vith this easy and simple method of discharging his duties, with- out regard to the duties due the government. Another new inspector received a free per- mit, worded as follows : Personal effects oldofficer examine. In the course of time the document reached its head-quarters, in- dorsed, Examination waived, as no old officer could be found. Appraisers, by misunderstanding badly writ- ten invoices, and without personal examination, guessing at what was before them, have return- ed colored cottons as Cologne-bottles, plums as hams, and delaines as demijohns. It requires very little imagination to comprehend ho~v easily miserably constructed chirography would, to superficial examiners, suggest the mistakes alluded to. Odd or unusual things, coming before the appraisers for the first time, are often the occa- sion of ludicrous if not serious mistakes. Some years ago a compound, from its texture and smell, was pronounced licorice-paste. A speci- men lying around loose was nibbled at, and one of the officials who was suffering from a cold appropriated a lump as a specific remedy for his ailing, and others followed his example. The official and his friends the next day were not at their desks. On inquiry, all the parties were strangely sick. A chemist (after the phy- sician) was finally invoked; and, after consid- erable experimenting, he found the supposed licorice-paste to be an extract of logwood. Some wine on one occasion attracted unmmsual notice, from the fact that it was not only of ex- cellent qimality, but put imp in a new style of bot- tle. Oue specimen after another was con- smimed by tasting, when suddehly the con- scientious appraisers and their volunteer assist- ants grew pale about their eyes. There then ensued a rebellion in their stomachs, and a Ca- tastrophe with all its disgusting phenomena fol- lowed which off sommudings in a storm would have been termed a terrible sea-sickness. A critical examination developed that the patients had been dosing themselves with newly prepared tincture of colchicmmm, recommended by its c omupounder as a specific for rheumatism and gout. The mention of colehicum cock- tails by the irreverent Custom-house hangers- on, when the joke was a new one, was suvarma- bly accompanied by expressions of mock sym. pathy and derisive lauglmter. Somne years ago a distimiguished Amnerican 213 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. agriculturist visiting Europe imported a Norman stallion. When the gentleman left the United States animals of the kind mentioned were ad- mitted into the country free of duty. When the steed arrived at our (locks, in charge of a French groom who commanded hut an imper- fect knowledge of the English language, a tariff had heen instituted which compelled the stor- age of the stallion until the duty was paid. The honded warehouse for the equine goods was a halter, ~vith one end tied to the foreign importation, and the other to the dock spile. Contrary to the grooms expectations, a free permit was not granted; hut the regu- lar order was issued to have the article ap- praised. For this purpose the official pro- ceeded where it ~~as supposed the importa- tion was; hut the enraged groom, in his in- dignation at what he thought ~vas an unnecessary delay and annoyance, had cut the halter; and the remarkable exhihition follo~ved of a dutiable article trying to smuggle itself. The stallion ~vas finally arrested, and, after herculean ef- forts, was brought before the United States ap- praiser. That official, in attempting to perform his duty, was kicked heels over head, and picked up under such unhappy circumstances that sev- eral small office-seekers were made for several hours comfortable with the idea that there would be a vacancy in the appraisers department. The duty, after a while, was laid and col- lected; but the principle was estahlished for all time, as a common law of the Custotn-house, that Norman stallions are troublesome to keep in bond, and that it is dangerous to attempt their personal examination when making an appraisement. In this connection we should not omit to mention that a celehrated financier and mer- chant got a large number of mules through a suburban custom-house without the tariff exac- tion, on the ground that the animals were ex- clusively imported for breeding purposes. It is the fashion of the day to speak derisively of Custom-house officials. They are supposed to be idlers, and, if opportunity offers, dishon- est. To the charge of having nothing to do we would reply that a clerical force carries on the great business of the commerce centring in New York city, with correctness and l)ron~pti- tude, that is less in number thati ~vould be em- ployed by any private corporation to do the same work. In the fiscal year of 186566, the busiest ever known in the Custom-house, the Custom-house officials attended to all the de- tails of the importation of goods, the duties on which amounted to one hundred and thirty- four millions of dollars. The integrity of cus- torns officials compares most favorably when brought in contrast with the almost daily pub- lished record of defalcations of presidents, tell- ers, and less prominent officers of banks and other monetary institutions; and it should be remembered that no dishonest customs official can exist unless he is seduced into his fraudu- lent course by some unprincipled merchant trader. And yet the press and public opinioa launch their condemnation on the poor clerk, but never breathe a word of censure upon the plotter of the mischief; and receiver of the lions share of the dishonestly obtained plunder. Ex- amination vill sho~v that the officials of the Custom-house are poorly paid, hold their places by uncertain tenure, do efficient work, and are entitled to honor and esteem for their efficient public service and undoubted integrity. ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF. LOGGERHEAD KEY is the westernmost land visible on the Florida Reef, though a broad extent of shoals indicates an onward and further westward design, to be ~vrought by the ever-increasing myriads of limestone workers. The island is about half a mile in length, and is the largest of the group. Its flora, to the botanist, is of great interest, though the casual observer would doubtless tarry here briefly. To the latter the seemingly boundless sea of cactus, ~vhich spreads over the whole interior, would prove a sufficient barrier to further ex- ploration. To the former the rare forms of trail- ing ipommas, and other of the convolvulacete, would surely repay the visit. Accustomed as we are to see the convolvulus or morning-glory family represented by slender climbing vines, blooming in the inornitig, here the first object ~ve encounter is a stout trailing l)laflt, quite as large as a pumpkin vine, and running like it, too, flat upon the ground, bear- ing great re(l trumpet-flowersgiant glories in mid-day, closing at evening and morning. The broad reach of white sand has a gay ap- pearance where it bears upon its face this curi- ous plantIpomwa pes-c(tJ)rw it is namedthe large glossy leaves being cleft, and otherwise shaped like a goats foot, hence its specific name. Another flue large variety is called bona nox, bearing large white cups that bloom just after dark, and close at daylight. Here, then, is an evening-glory, deriving its last name from its habit of blooming late. Some of the ipommas have the two forms in one; that is, they are mainly climbing plants, bitt throw down at different heights long wire-like trails, very scantily provided with leaves. These off- shoots are perfectly uniform in size, and are sometimes six feet in length before putting out a leaf. The leaves of this trail are wholly dif- ferent in shape and color from those of the up- right or timain phut; they are a neat halberd- shape, or spear-shape, while the others are a perfect heart. When the trail touches the

213 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. agriculturist visiting Europe imported a Norman stallion. When the gentleman left the United States animals of the kind mentioned were ad- mitted into the country free of duty. When the steed arrived at our (locks, in charge of a French groom who commanded hut an imper- fect knowledge of the English language, a tariff had heen instituted which compelled the stor- age of the stallion until the duty was paid. The honded warehouse for the equine goods was a halter, ~vith one end tied to the foreign importation, and the other to the dock spile. Contrary to the grooms expectations, a free permit was not granted; hut the regu- lar order was issued to have the article ap- praised. For this purpose the official pro- ceeded where it ~~as supposed the importa- tion was; hut the enraged groom, in his in- dignation at what he thought ~vas an unnecessary delay and annoyance, had cut the halter; and the remarkable exhihition follo~ved of a dutiable article trying to smuggle itself. The stallion ~vas finally arrested, and, after herculean ef- forts, was brought before the United States ap- praiser. That official, in attempting to perform his duty, was kicked heels over head, and picked up under such unhappy circumstances that sev- eral small office-seekers were made for several hours comfortable with the idea that there would be a vacancy in the appraisers department. The duty, after a while, was laid and col- lected; but the principle was estahlished for all time, as a common law of the Custotn-house, that Norman stallions are troublesome to keep in bond, and that it is dangerous to attempt their personal examination when making an appraisement. In this connection we should not omit to mention that a celehrated financier and mer- chant got a large number of mules through a suburban custom-house without the tariff exac- tion, on the ground that the animals were ex- clusively imported for breeding purposes. It is the fashion of the day to speak derisively of Custom-house officials. They are supposed to be idlers, and, if opportunity offers, dishon- est. To the charge of having nothing to do we would reply that a clerical force carries on the great business of the commerce centring in New York city, with correctness and l)ron~pti- tude, that is less in number thati ~vould be em- ployed by any private corporation to do the same work. In the fiscal year of 186566, the busiest ever known in the Custom-house, the Custom-house officials attended to all the de- tails of the importation of goods, the duties on which amounted to one hundred and thirty- four millions of dollars. The integrity of cus- torns officials compares most favorably when brought in contrast with the almost daily pub- lished record of defalcations of presidents, tell- ers, and less prominent officers of banks and other monetary institutions; and it should be remembered that no dishonest customs official can exist unless he is seduced into his fraudu- lent course by some unprincipled merchant trader. And yet the press and public opinioa launch their condemnation on the poor clerk, but never breathe a word of censure upon the plotter of the mischief; and receiver of the lions share of the dishonestly obtained plunder. Ex- amination vill sho~v that the officials of the Custom-house are poorly paid, hold their places by uncertain tenure, do efficient work, and are entitled to honor and esteem for their efficient public service and undoubted integrity. ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF. LOGGERHEAD KEY is the westernmost land visible on the Florida Reef, though a broad extent of shoals indicates an onward and further westward design, to be ~vrought by the ever-increasing myriads of limestone workers. The island is about half a mile in length, and is the largest of the group. Its flora, to the botanist, is of great interest, though the casual observer would doubtless tarry here briefly. To the latter the seemingly boundless sea of cactus, ~vhich spreads over the whole interior, would prove a sufficient barrier to further ex- ploration. To the former the rare forms of trail- ing ipommas, and other of the convolvulacete, would surely repay the visit. Accustomed as we are to see the convolvulus or morning-glory family represented by slender climbing vines, blooming in the inornitig, here the first object ~ve encounter is a stout trailing l)laflt, quite as large as a pumpkin vine, and running like it, too, flat upon the ground, bear- ing great re(l trumpet-flowersgiant glories in mid-day, closing at evening and morning. The broad reach of white sand has a gay ap- pearance where it bears upon its face this curi- ous plantIpomwa pes-c(tJ)rw it is namedthe large glossy leaves being cleft, and otherwise shaped like a goats foot, hence its specific name. Another flue large variety is called bona nox, bearing large white cups that bloom just after dark, and close at daylight. Here, then, is an evening-glory, deriving its last name from its habit of blooming late. Some of the ipommas have the two forms in one; that is, they are mainly climbing plants, bitt throw down at different heights long wire-like trails, very scantily provided with leaves. These off- shoots are perfectly uniform in size, and are sometimes six feet in length before putting out a leaf. The leaves of this trail are wholly dif- ferent in shape and color from those of the up- right or timain phut; they are a neat halberd- shape, or spear-shape, while the others are a perfect heart. When the trail touches the ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF. 27 ground it takes root; and if a favorable sup- port is at hand the trail gives off an upright branch, which at once puts out leaves of the heart-shape and lighter color of the parent. The spear-leaved runner now keeps on, a dark, smooth stem, for several feet, or yards even, takes root again, and puts forth anothei~, upright or not, according to circumstances. If there are no objects within reach for the trails to climb upon, or their shoots rather, the runners keep on a long distance, taking root at short intervals. In the course of the sea- son many of these runners will appear on one plant, thus making a growth of imniense ex- panse, and one which, we will see before closing, has an important part in the mainte- nance as well as in the building of these reef islands. On this key is Loggerhead Light, well known to the coast-wise shipping, and serv- 7 ing by day as well as by night as a guide to those in or outward bound. Eighteen miles away to the suthard and eastard this light is made as you approach the gulf; and then it behooves the master to raise it slowly and cautiously as he rounds the point. The Scylla and Charybdis of the dreaded reef are then left astern, ~vhile deep water and hours of rest are his ahead. The immense height of the tower, ~vhich is of elegant pro- 2 portions, is rendered necessary on account of the extremely low elevation of the island, and the vast tract of dangerous shoals that lies to the westward. Within that forbidden circle the advanced works of the submarine laborers are ever changing and progressing. Notwith ______ 7 ~ q ~ __ BUIJMARINE Oaw~v ATiUN~. 25 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. standing the charts of this region are very per- fect, vessels are constantly getting ashore at various points. On the eastward border of the group is a narrow channel, with depth of water sufficient for the largest vessels. This is a cut- off of thirty miles for vessels hound up the gulf; but mistakes are constantly occurring. A chart belonging to the office of engineers at Fort Jefferson has marked upon it circumstan- tially the records of a host of vessels whose last abiding-place is here. We have spoken of the flora, hut not much can be said of the fauna of these islands. The spirit-crabs reigned supreme on Loggerhead until the Bosn took over some of our pet rab- bits, the lop-ear kind. Much to our surprise, they increased rapidly, and seemed to thrive; and now there are as many as can conveniently be accommodated with forage. Some of our pet goats were left there also, and it is to be hoped that whoever is the present incumbent of the island sovereignty may treat them with something like the care bestowed on them of old by the Bosn and his companions; for they will surely give back in payment rich and whole- some milk, and old Bon, upon occasion, an af- fectionate butt. Along the southern shore of this key is a deep channel which leads out from the inner harbor, connecting with the deeper water of the Gnlf. On the confines of this channel may be seen in clear water a perfect forest of coral tree coral, we call it, on account of its great size. The view from the gunwale of the boat as we drift along is of exceeding interest. Amonig the various traps, as the Bosn calls them, that constitute the outfit of the Cerlew, is a square box, open at the top, and fitted with a glass bottom. Now it matters not if the sea is rough, if so be it is not tumultuous, with this box placed on the surface, a marvelous expo- sure of the hidden forms of the deep is at once before us. Looking through the clear glass, which annihilates every ripple, the swaying tops of this coral forest are in full view. The deli- cate, flower-like polyps in full expansion, like so many catkins of minute form, upon the branches. The least touch or jar would send every one of these little flower-like animal mouths instantly out of sight, within the porous structure ~vhich constitutes their shell or skele- ton. The coral tree then looks like the hare trunk and branches of a vegetable tree denuded of its leaves and fruit. Yet a brown film, or membrane, is observed covering the whole, ~vhich is the connecting tunic that holds and unites the community as one. Epluritus enema is their motto; and how many in one we may imagine when we contemplate the individual blocks that lie upon the reef, or even one of the single trees of this forest beneath our eye. A fine specimen of this animal tree was taken from here and sent to the Museum of Compara- tive Zoology at Cambridge. It measured six feet in height, and nine feet in circumference, the branches being about two inches in diame ter. As we look through our glass box the polyps are seen expanded, millions of star-like, blossom-like mouths. Some of the tips of branches are white, and denuded of the soft brown membrane which constitutes the mantle; and here we see the cause. Lying across the top branches is a great caterpillar-like worm, longer than your hand. As we introduce our hook under and slowly lift him, we see that he has had fully an inch of the extremity of a branch in his mouth. He has sucked it bare of flesh, this coral worm, or aphroditacean. In moving about over the coral he has disturbed the polyps, and many have withdrawn their heads. Some of the polyp heads are seen, however; little star-shaped bodies, with a mouth in the centre of the row of lentacles. The large polyp head at the extremity of one branch, shown in the sketch, is characteristic of the madrepores, and is not understood to he differ- ent from the other smaller ones in its functions. The class of animals designated by natu- ralists the aphroditacem is, for several reasons, little known; and I presume many would says Gui boao? but the wonderful forms of some though a few are certainly repulsive-looking and the extraordinary appendages of others, render them worthy of notice. Some curious forms of this class are found in the northern waters. One that the fishermen frequently bring up on their hooks on the fish- ing-hanks is so covered with short brown bris- tles or hairs, and is so formed, that it has the appearance of a mole or mouse, and is desig- nated as sea-mouse. These creatures seem to have been honored with classic titles to an unusual extent. Like thousands of marine forms, the individual species have no common names; Amphitrite, Enphrosyne, ~1Enone, Eu- nice, Nereis, Hesione, Clvmene, Polynoe, are some of the generic titles. The great hairy worm before us, like some of our caterpillars of the trees, Imas barbed bris- tles, wlmich readily penetrate the flesh, and cause acute Jamn. Looking a little deeper, we see a huge block TILE CORAL WORM. ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF. 29 of astrei~, or star-corala perfect hemisphere, with its polyp flowers all in bloom. The surface in several places shows curious conical plumes, of a pattern like the pompons of a soldiers cap, and colored like them, red and white, in distinct hands. These are the tentacles and heads of a worm which builds its lime tube on the rock when small; then as the coral gro~vs around it the tube is completely enveloped. As fast as the coral encroaches on the worm, he throws out new courses of masonry, keeping pace with the astrea, and vying with him in the exhibition of a beautiful tuft of plumes upon his front. This is the sabella. Another vari- ety has a golden - yellow cup - like series of plumes, and contrasts gayly ~vith the brown of the surrounding mantles of astreLe. Besides the great beauty of form and color, the sabell~ have a complicated structure along their bod- ies, which accouats for their rapid motion when disturbed. They unfold or bloom out slo~vly, like flowers; but a set of hooks, by which they grasp the sides of the tube, gives thetrr power for rapid retreat. An elegant object for the aquarium is one of these sabelke in a small block of astreat. The little star mouths of the coral, and the lar- ger plumes, furnish a perpetual bouquet of an- imal flowers, quite as prettily colored as those of the garden. Other species of this family form tubes of sand, and of pieces of shell and sea-weed. In the tube of one large kind, that builds on the open, shallow mud-flats, one is constantly surprised to notice the various de- signs resort~cl to for concealment. We have often watched them while they were finishing the mouth of the tube. Without an exception, they searched for a larger fragment of shell to fit over the mouth as a door, placing it ob- liquely in such manner that it would remain closed excepting when pushed open from with in. As the worm never leaves the tube entire- ly, the entrance to the castle is well protected when he retires within. Over the door he con- trives to hang a blade of marine grass, a species of zostera. This grass is introduced in the masonry as it progresses near completion; the tube being made up of regular layers of shell- fragments, roughly laid on the outside, but evenly on the inner. We are apt to be a little more curious in the contemplation of this work- manship, as it seems to indicate the presence of some attribute differing from mere instinct. The showy conch spreads his soft mantle over the inner surface of his shell covering, and there deposits the material, from time to time, that is eliminated therein; always preserving a set forum, and a coloring strictly according to the pattern allotted it by nature. The larva of the butterfly reaches a period when his appetite fails him; a stock of coiled threads lies ready within to spin into a snug abiding-place. But the sabella is left literally to shift for himself, dependent on the accidental presence of frag- ments of other forms, vegetable and animal. So far as the work is concernedthe masonry, to speak exactlythe human hand would find it difficult to construct a nicer fabric out of the same materials. In Mr. Woods admirable book, Homes without Hands, are recorded numerous in- teresting examples; but I think this exhibits a feature so resembling the action of mind we can not but wonder. There are innumerable little plates of limethe joints of a species of coral- lineforming a large portion of the material which makes up the sand of the beaches. The sahella selects these, and lays theum flat-wise, one on another, securing always a perfectly smooth face within, as the stone-mason builds his wall. Here and there a piece of grass is introduced, which, with the larger piece at the entrance, serves to deceive intruders into the belief that the structure is only a part of the inanimate earth and ddbris. The work of the moth-miller larva is ah~ost alike in one respect the extraordinary faculty of selecting and ar- ranging in exact pattern the material within its reach. This creature, so universally dreaded by the housekeeper, forms a cocoon-like tube, open at both ends, out of the material on which it feedscotton or woolen. It is a very pleasing object under the microscope, or even the common magnifying-glassa much more pleasing object there than on your coat. When the worm eats on a fabric of several colors the case, or cocoon, is sure to be made of the fibres of that fabric, and the colors are so arranged that one is loth to believe that some other agency has not been in force. On my study table a green cloth with yellow fibres fur- nishes to the moth a set patternconcentric rings of green and yellow, each as distinct as the pattern on the cloth. A common figure on the moth-cases is formed of two ends trans- versely figured with red, while the centre is white. In all cases the fibres are selected and woven in as artistically as if it were done by the hand of man. In this cocoon the worm eats its fill, and then lies dormant until a new life comes to it in the shape of a moth-miller; the case bursts, and the winged. creature frees him- self; to flit his brief hour, and perpetuate the mysterious cycle of his existence. Some fishes present extraordinary structure, worthy of a place in this our exhibition of the wonderful. The aaableps, a fish of the Ama- zon River, has a metubrane drawn horizontally across its eyes on the upper half, dividing the pupil into two distinct parts. This fish has the habit of swimming or leaping on the sur- face of th.e water like the frog, and has its head partly above the surface; here, then, is a most unusual adaptation of means to end. The fish is thus enabled to see equally well in or out of water. It is instructive as ~vell as amusing to watch closely the strange marine forms in their native element. Here just by us, as we look steadily through the glass, is an odd creat- ure that would be overlooked, and thought to be a part of the weedy bottom, were we not keen in our vision. It is a fish called the mal 30 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. theaone that has no fins for s~vimming, but as to appear like an inanimate object, a part of is provided with short feet, like paddles, that the sea bottom. As a compensation this creat- suffice to move it on the muddy bottom. Slug- ore is furnished with the means of angling for gish in the extreme, but formed and colored so itself. Directly under the nose and over thc mouth ________ ___ - ____________ - 7 is a depression or pit, from the roof of which aug s a curiously colored appendage. The broad mouth, just under this, rests on the dank I mud, and the wary eyes keep vigilant watch. Does a hungry prawn or an inquisitive crab es- say to inspect too closely this attractive and luscious looking morselwhich all this time is gradually becoming inflated, twisting and writh- ing like a wormyawns a deep gulf, and prawn or crab is drawn within without ceremony. In the sketch, behind the malthea is a good rep- resentation of the Astree urqes, or argus-eyed starcoral, as it appears in the living state. The resemblance to the sea-anemone is well shown. as it looks like a community of that form. The difference chiefly consists in the addition here of a hard lime skeleton. The sea-anemone is larger and single, with no hard parts. So with shellfish. The conch has one shell, the oys- ter two, and the aplysia and slugs none. Most of the sluggish fishes have a~)pendages - ~ around the mouth. The lophius, or bellows- ____ fish, which seems to be mostly mouth, is prop- erly named angler, for he has a long slender iod projecting from his forehead, on the end ot wInch is a soft pulpy tuft of flesh. This rod is movable, and as the fish lies flat upon the mud his enormous mouth spread like a dip-net to receive his fare, he eagles, fishes, ~vith the tempting bait, moving it up and ~owii and on dl sides, alluring equally small and large fishes within reach, and closing upoti them with his enormous jaws. The English fishermen call them fishing-frogs, amid return them with great care to the sea when caught, as they regard them valuable destroyers of the dog-fish, an en- emy of the cod-fishers. TUE MALTiiEA. ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF. 31 Our sketch represents the anatomy of the strokes when an enemy approaches. The fish fishing-rod of the lophius. It is one of the seems conscious of his power, and shows fight most remarkable structures, exactly resembling as long as we continue to tease him. A cnt the links of a chain. Such organs are usually from this lancet is quite as efThctive as one from articulated like an ordinary joint, hut this is a steel, as it has a keen edge. very unusual deviation. The little flag of flesh Another curious form we see passing along that serves as bait or decoy is, of course, a part the roots of this coral grove, near the bottom. of the inclosing membrane. It is the hammer-head shark. They are not The surgeon-fish (Acunt/wrus pldebotomns) is largethis one about two feet in lengthhut another remarkable indigene of these waters. have the most unaccountable head upon their On each side, near the base of the tail, is a tri- shoulders, albeit the body is comely as any other angular blade, much like the fleam of a horse i shark. The iron part, or head, of a sledge-ham- lancet. This is entirely concealed in a sheath, mer well represents this creatures anterior cx- but is instantly thrown out and used with rapid tremity. An eye on each front corner of the __ ____________ protuberances, and a month in the centre of the under face. This is a most extraordinary form, or deviation from the normal. To our limited comprehension it seems wholly unac- countable, though its habits may call for some such development. Several varieties of lumpfish, toad-fish, and poretipine-fish are common here. Diodons, tetraodons, balistes, and a host of such forms we met in these searches after the curious. The porcupine-fish is an odd fish, most certain- ly, blowing himself to a perfect ball, beset with long, sharp spines. File-fish, with their ser- rated weapon erect on the back, ply in and out among the branches. The cow-fish, with his armor of mail, sallies foith, conscious of most perfect protection. But of all the beautiful torms the angel-fish exceeds them. Gorgeous, indecd, is this winged color-bearer; broad bands of velvet-black and golden-yellow con- trast richly with the azure-blue; sailing ma- jestically in and out of the brown thickets of coral, the clear sea-water showing every hue to advantage. Almost alivays within our sight, too, are several little azure-blue fishes that glow with the ltistre of bright metal. Drifting with the tide, we have l~assed from the deep water to the shallow flats of Bush Key Lagoon. Here we meet great numbers of the Portuguese men-o-war, or physalia~one of THE LOL~LU5, oa IIELLOW5-F1511. 1 1 I I ~ ~t [~ :~ - 7 1117 32 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the first and most attractive marine objects that engage the attention of the visitor. The phy- salia during the warmer months is an ever-pres- ent object on the waters of the Gulf; myriads of these gorgeously colored creatures float in and out with the tide. The jelly-fishes are usu- ally inconspicuous, being nearly colorless, and confined beneath the surface. The physalia, one of the class, is an exception, being confined to the surface, and never descendiug beneath the wave; in shape like a Chinese shoe with upturned toe, or like an ancient galley, with silken sails and canopy, its lo~v-banked oars trailing from its hull. Its color is indigo-blue, merging into a lighter azure on the upper ridge, where stands a silvery-white ruffle, lustrous as satin, and fringed with rose-tinted folds. Un- derneath, the bladder is a trifle thicker, of a darker hue, and is sufficiently fleshy to contain the little more of organic structure that is re- quired for the support of this mere thread of jelly-fish existence. Here are mouths and suck- ers, and around these openings are long fleshy streamers, or tentacles, so called, charged with venomous weapons that lasso and paralyze their prey at the same instant. Surely here is a gal- Spring to this craft with a lightsome leap, And launch afar on the calm blue deep; The imps of the sea. may yell and rave, And summon all forces beneath the wave; hut they shall keep a respectful distance from this fairy monitor. We have noticed a very remarkable associ- ation of this creature with a small species of fish, which has never been recordeda fact which seems hitherto to have escaped the ob- servation of naturalists. When the physalia is dipped up in the usual manner, nothing un- common is found with it; but let us look care- fully through our glass box, in the direction of the tentacles, and we see one, two, or three small fishes that are exactly of the same color as the physalia. Indeed, so close is the resem- blance in color, they appear at first like por- tions of one and the same animal. The larger fish is not longer than the little finger of your hand; and if you have seen sticklebacks you will say, How alike they are !harring the color. It is most unaccountable that so highly or- ganized forms as fishes should live ivithin the dread portals of this virulent form, which has not the faculty of distinguishing between friend and foe, so low is it in the anitnal scale. The physalia floats like a huge monitor, its powerful ~vorks below the water-line. As it floats over a shoal of fishes, the least touch draws fire, and the victim is killed and drawn up in an instant, while the little blee-jaclcs ma- nceuvre within, among the tentacles, as if man- ning the armament. The sailors, who are fond of calling this the Portuguese man-o-war, hard- ly realize how much closer the comparison is than most others of their invention. The fra- ternity of the trepang and its attendant fish is remarkable; but much more so is this exam- ple; for here the fishes are constantly within reach of deadly weapons, hut are never touched by them, or injured, rather. If we remove physalia from the water, which can be safely done by seizing the crest of the bladder, we shall see the fishes dart about in great trepida- tion, as if in search of protection. Drop l)hy ley fit for a naiad or fairy. Imagine Culprit Fay I // _____ IL ____ THE PHYSALIA. ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF. 33 salia back again, and the fishes return at once, though they had disappeared from sight. A large glass jar, made for such purposes, we have dipped under them, and thus brought the ob- jects in close view for observation. Having casually viewed this potent little war vessel, its works and armament, and seen its capacity for mischief~ let us examine more closely, and inspect its batteries. We have seen that this is a jelly-fish, having the additional appendage of a showy float, which keeps it wholly on the surface. rhis creature is properly a compound animal, the slimy mass that depends from the under surface being made up of organs that serve various purposes in its economy. It will serve our purpose better, however, to omit the more complex parts, or those not of interest to the general reader. It seems, too, that the free use of common names is likely to be of service in rendering natural objects more familiar and attractive. In speaking of the caryophillia we call it the cuplet, after the excellent plan of Mr. Gosse, as it is known in some localities as the cup coral. The only species of manicina on the reef is so much like a kidney in shape and size, we have adopted the trivial term kidney coral. The 2llieandrina cerebrformis is easily rec- ognized as brain coral. The labyrinth and leaf corals would also seem well named. Probably no one branch of marine zoology is so difficult to comprehend by the casual or occasional ob- server as that which includes the corals. Even at this day some books persist in calling the polyps insects; and some scientific authors care- lessly speak of the polyps coming out and going in to their holes, as if they were not in the same relation to the white coral branch, so familiar to most, as the bony part of our bodies are to our flesh. But to resume. We are desirous of seeing the wonderful armament of the physalia. Mr. Gosse, the English naturalist, intimates that the same organs, or similar, that in the sea- anemone furnish such virulent weapons, are seen in the physalia. He was the first to show the uses and unfold the anatomy of them. The physalia, when VoT,. XLIII.No. 2553 near a fish, or nny living object, throws down one or more of its long tentacles, sometimes several yards in extent. it should be remem- bered here that this creature is far below even the shell-fish, and, of course, has no eyes. The least touch serves to paralyze the prey; then a loop is formed in the tentacle, which, with oth- ers, draws the victim upto the numerous mouths, or suckers, that depend from its base. When the tentacle comes in contact with the prey it contracts and throws out from numerous pores on its surface fine thread-like coils. These are white, and just perceptible to the naked eye. As they strike the prey numerous missiles, like so many loaded shells, are projected into the flesh; these missiles then explode, and discharge barbed wire-like arrows, which are charged with the poisonous fluid that proves so irritating, and even deadly to the smaller animals. This struc- ture, for offensive warfare, is much more com- plicated than those of the defensive character. The missiles thrown out from the ejected threads are oblong bodies, not nnlike cylindrical pro- jectiles (to continue our comparison with mod- ern ordnance), and contain not a modern style of charge, but an ancient one, in the form of barbed javelins. Instead of bursting, like the shell, its coiled weapon is projected out from the opening at one end, the missile being there- by unfolded, or turned wrong side out. How much like a battery, and the movements in firing it! The long threads are like so many guns run in battery, thrust out from the port- holes, and, like the mitrailleuse, discharging from numerous hores the loaded shells. With- in the case which holds the barbed weapon is the poisonous fluid, which is either thrown out through the barbs, as in the serpents fang, or lies in contact with them, and is conveyed into the wounds on their surface. These organs are so very minute that they were not until lately observed, or, rather, their uses were not until lately rightly interpreted. It was supposed that they were reproductive organs. The poisonous effect was supposed to he due to the slimy se- cretion of the tentacles. In view of this pow- er, it is a matter of great ~vonder that the little blue fishes escape the fatal touch; but nature seems to have intended them as companions. The blue fishes are to the physalia, as the nat- uralist would say, parasitic. They are never seen elsewhere, but always under the tentacles of the physalia. It is an interesting fact, too, that the sea-anemone which makes its home on the back of the crab is never found alone. The lip of a perch that had imprudently put his nose within reach of a tentacle was exam- med under the microscope, and seen to be com- pletely studded with the darts, ~vhose poisonous points had carried death with them. The younger Charley of our boat-party once inadvertently swam over one. The ugly tenta- cles clung to his chest and abdomen, affecting him most gravely. It is impossible to convey in words the appearance of his face, its horror- stricken expression. He was rendered helpless TENTACLE OF THE PHYSALIA. 34 HARPERS NEW MON~?HLY MAGAZINE. in a moment; but several soldiers were at hand, who conveyed him to the shore and disentan- gled the fearful mass of tentacles. Large welts remained upon the skin, of a dark color, and millions of the minute barbs were plunged un- der the flesh. The most serious symptom was the difficult breathingdyspncea. Great nerv- otis irritation, and occasional sinking or pros- tration of the powers of life occurred, requiring free use of powerful stimulants. The vast extent of the poisonous influence here was probably the cause of such serious symptoms. A little more would cause death. A thorough bathing with soap-suds proved the best remedy, though the suffering lasted sever- al hours. There are two other forms allied to this jelly- fish that are seldom seen in perfection except at sea, away from the shore. Voyagers in the Gulf region see them from the deck, and are told that they are the young, or a portion of the physalia, simply because they look like the larger in color, and because they have no com- mon name. Poipita and vellela are pretty names enough, without more common onesthe latter meaning little boat. They have the same dark blue membranous covering, though strikingly different in form. If you ask the ship captain, he tells you it is a man-o-war with its upper gear carried away. These two forms are so pretty and interesting, and so surely met with on a voyage through the Gulf Stream, that I venture to surmise our renders will be glad to know something more of them. As the ship glides into the Gulf Stream the alert virtuoso has ample material for his amuse- isient. At times when the physalis~ are abundant on the sea there will be seen equally numerous the two other members of this family or order siphonophorw, of the class of acalephs. An English writer asserts that the vellela is nor- mally a parasite of physalia; but such is not the case. Vellehe are seen often in great numbers when no physalite are in sight. The writer in question judges from the fact of the two being found stranded on the shores of England, where they are strangers. I sailed through an im- mense fleet of vellehe between Key Largo and Cape Florida, and not one physalia was in sight. The vellela is composed of an oval plate, of the appearance of isinglass, very thin. An equally thin plate of the same material, which is twisted in the graceful form of the line of beauty, stands vertically along the upper surface. This structure is covered with the blue membrane, and has depending from its float, which rests lightly on the water, a row of short tentacles arranged along its edge. In the centre is the fleshy stomach and its months. The whole object looks like a little flat-boat with one fore-and-aft sail close hauled on the wind. The porpita is a perfectly circular form, of the same isinglass-like character, about an inch and a half in diameter, thin, and having no up- right sail. Its under parts are similar to the vellela, and the color the same indigo-blue. This form is like a little monitor, with works all below, and no top-hamper. The beaches are often strewed with the skeleton frames of these creatures after a storm. During one of the bright, clear days, when the sea is like glass, not a ripple upon its sur- face, the aspect of the Gulf Stream is charm- ing beyond description. The three objects just noticed are seen on all sides, their glowing col- ors and bright, ltistrous reflections a source of constant adutiration. The dolphin, with his gorgeous, iridescent flanks, is quite constantly in sight, just under the surface, darting back and forth, vaulting, and frequently turning on his side, like some gaudily dressed pantomimist. We have, in imagination, drifted around a lagoon of the reef, looking down among the deep-sea corals, and scanning the surface for the curious there. Meantime, lest we tire in looking upon this the lowest form of animal life, we will sail back to that locality on the reef where a higher animal finds shelter, though lo~v he may be of his classthe military prison. Many were the strange characters confined here during the war; and many were the de- vices for earning a little money for the purchase of tobacco, that indispensable morceau of the soldier and sailor. Among the rather question- able methods was one instituted by a young man of good education, and skilled in the use of water-colors. He furnished to order or otherwise pressed mosses in wreaths or on cartes de visite. Great quantities of the real moss, or algce, were pressed and sold there, but the pris- otters could not always procure it. Our young man was impressed with the belief that a wreath could be painted in water-colors, adding, per- haps, here and there, sparingly, a twig of the real article, whereby much extraordinary care and vexation would be saved, and a steady busi- ness insured. He, therefore, lost no time in putting into practice this highly ingenious if not praiseworthy method; and much goldor its equivalentdid the young man put into his pocket thereby. If any reader has a souvenir from the Dry Tortugas in the shape of a wreath or bouquet of ocean flowers, let him not hold it the less. valuable, ~for a microscope can hardly detect the difference. If our young man did deceive, he did his level best. The strangest of all characters here was Harry Blank, sentenced to hard labor for three years, or during the war : charges, larceny and de- sertion. Blank was about nineteen years of age. I-Ic was slight in figure, lithe, and supple to an extraordinary extent. His forehead was very low and narrow; face small; and altogether he was perfectly monkey-like in appearance. Of course he was very soon in the guard-house for some infraction of discipline. After a little it became necessary to handcuff him. His hands were so remarkably small that brace- lots could not be kept on him; but he played several dodges before this was discovered. - ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF. 35 His hand was a marvel of suppleness, as was also his whole frame. Harry was constantly evading the sentry, and in mischief. He seemed to care for nothing except as a means for making fun or mischief. On one occasion he seized a broom, and whistled himself by the sentinel, say- ing he had been sent to sweep the store-house, where he contrived to secrete and convey articles of clothing, and sell them before being detected. Once he crept into the engineers store-house, and set the molasses running from a hogshead, as a monkey would, from pure mischief; telling it next day as a joke. His was a most perfect example of what the phrenologist would call a full development in the region of secretive- ness and destructiveness, with very small frontal organs. So completely troublesome was the scape-grace, the commanding officer or- dered him chained to the dungeon floor; but here he soon became sick, and was allowed the freedom of the room. Eventually he was given the range of the corridor for air during the day. In this apartment an embrasure opened out over the ditch, or moat. The sentinel being concealed from this window in his beat, Harry deemed it favorable for a new enterprise. He let himself down just as the work people went to dinner, at an hour when the garrison was in the enjoyment of the noonday siesta. It was an easy matter to swim across the moat, run along the moat wall to the bakery, swim again, and climb in an embrasure by aid of the water- pipes. The coast clear, he helped himself in the bakery, and stepped into the dining-room of an old woman, wife of a boss workman. Here he pocketed a lot of daguerreotypes and mantel ornaments, peeped into the next room, where the old woman was quietly at work, and then decamped, getting back without any one observing him. This theft was a mystery for several weeks, the daguerreotypes proving a se- rious loss, when the scamp told it circumstan- tially to the surgeon as a good joke. He had broken the articles, and thrown them into the ditch. After this an iron collar was made and fastened on his neck, beset with long spikes. This was, of course, too much for comfort; and, with the ball and chain on his ankles, he soon began to fail. Any thing like a thorough sur- veillance of him involved measures that were manifestly cruel. He was not vicious, was per- fectly good-natured, but seemed constantly im- pelled to mischief. On one occasion only he showed a disposition to retaliate. An official of the work department, who had brutally treated him, passed in and out frequently, and Harry managed to secrete a musket from the adjoining guard-room, and cover his enemy, but was arrested before any harm was done. The same official was frightfully cut in the throat a few days after by another prisoner who had been maltreated by him. Harry, as a character, is introduced here though a curious creature for observationto show how potent is kind treatment as compared with the opposite. We are not disposed to in- sist that this is the most feasible method of treating thieves, or one likely to be profitable to the state, unless we allow our institutions the luxury of benevolent, painstaking men of the cloth. Suffice it to say the kind lady who assisted the surgeon in his endeavors to shield this godless creature from the heavy penalties laid upon him agrees with him that the result of our experiment, though not perfect, was a source of great gratification. It had come to this pass. Harry Blank had so often been the subject of complaint, and every device been used for restraining him, he was again made fast to the floor of the dungeon, the comman- dant being wholly out of patience with him. He was here kept until the scurvy rendered him almost helpless. The surgeon then assumed the responsibility, and determined to hold him for a trial. He was put in hospital, and re- stored to his usual health after a few weeks of treatment. During his stay in the hospital he was under promise of good behavior. He gave his word to the surgeon that he would not leave without liberty. He was trusted on that promise; was allowed the freedom of the garrison, as well as the hospital, precisely in the same manner as other patientsthat is, liberty to go and come, always reporting the fact to the ward-master. He was, for good behavior, installed as a nurse, and no one of the nurses was ~more attentive and useful. Books of interest, with illustra- tions, were freely given him, as well as to other prisoners. Not tracts, if you please; re- ligious tracts are not always the most useful in such cases; the dose is too strong. They are sometimes administered ad nauseam. A 1 ITAuRY BLANK. 36 IIAEPEWS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. more quiet and faithful servant than he was not to he found; and several months passed, during which time Harry was steadily at his post, en- joying all the liberty of the island, serving oc- casionally as boatman for the health officer, and not once was there cause for complaint. Un- happily a temporary absence of the surgeon gave Hairy a chance to escape, and he made trial. Secreting himself at night, he set out on a flight of steps that was just buoyant enough to support him. He paddled this to Logger- head, where he secreted himself in the cactus hushes, but was captured in the morning. He was thrown into the dungeon again, but soon effected his releaseI fear for another world. He started in company with a man who had been arrested here for attempting the release of the Lincoln state prisoners. The night was fearfully stormy, and, as the boat was a mere shell, it is pretty certain that this was the last of Harry Blank. Another prisoner, of the opposite character a perverse, stubborn, dangerous character after undergoing every kind of punishment that could be devised by those in charge, came under a similar treatment, with equally good me- suits. Without question a good work could be tlone by chaplains at such military posts, were they assigned to them. A pleasant little experiment ~vas instituted here by our prot~g~, Harry, which shows hini possessed of something like the Mark Tapleyan philosophyto be jolly nuder the most adverse circumstances. Harry desired the luxury of a bath at the sea-side during the great heat of the summer, and obtained permission to indulge therein nnder the eye of the sentinel, though the commandant pointed significantly at the jewels on his legs. On reaching the wharf Blank seized a stick of cord-wood, threw the chain over it with a turn or two to make se- cure, and shoved off into deep water for a swim mnch to the surprise and amusement of the crowd, and much to the horror of the sentry, who feared that his charge had exceeded in- structions. THE HINT OF DAWN. FROM the green hollows of the sea Where, halt the circle of the hours, The sheltering waves flowed over me, I rose, and sought my skyey bowers. The happy west winds blew about Their sweetest airsthe trumpets they When all the serried spears of day Went bristling down their lofty rout, Beneath vast oriflammes tossed out In rippling interchange to greet me; While pale glad stars thronged forth to meet me Wtth silvery-fine aerial shout; And swift the news from sky to sky was blown, And all the arch~ of heaven I made my own! 0 though thus regent of the dusky deep, Witch of its mysteries, while every blush That on my cheeks swart outline fain would sleep Dies neath my listless eyes exceeding hush, Yet toward the limit of my power I sweep. At last, with all my creeping scouts withdrawn, I hang and listen for some sound of doom, Some far faint voice of morning and of bloom A rustle in the nest beside the sheaf, A dropping of the dew from leaf to leaf When underneath the shadows stirs the dawn. Ay me! our frosty argents tarnished are! Reel fast, my realm, from your sublime adorning. Divided sceptre yield with sullen scorning, Challenge the east from farthest gorge and scaur! Yet, alas! gulfed within the primal charm, Twilight most simmer to a golden calm, And ye, a silent spectral host, must fleet, Ilurled headlong in precipitous retreat Down huge abysses black with sudden ya~vning, The great shield of the sea upon your arm, Tossing above tumultuous spume and harm Till orient winds blow all the heavens sweet. When, climbing opaline slopes, a star Leans on resplendent battlements of warning, With glittering spear and casque, looks from afar Oer the serene of morning! ImAnava EXPERIMENT.

36 IIAEPEWS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. more quiet and faithful servant than he was not to he found; and several months passed, during which time Harry was steadily at his post, en- joying all the liberty of the island, serving oc- casionally as boatman for the health officer, and not once was there cause for complaint. Un- happily a temporary absence of the surgeon gave Hairy a chance to escape, and he made trial. Secreting himself at night, he set out on a flight of steps that was just buoyant enough to support him. He paddled this to Logger- head, where he secreted himself in the cactus hushes, but was captured in the morning. He was thrown into the dungeon again, but soon effected his releaseI fear for another world. He started in company with a man who had been arrested here for attempting the release of the Lincoln state prisoners. The night was fearfully stormy, and, as the boat was a mere shell, it is pretty certain that this was the last of Harry Blank. Another prisoner, of the opposite character a perverse, stubborn, dangerous character after undergoing every kind of punishment that could be devised by those in charge, came under a similar treatment, with equally good me- suits. Without question a good work could be tlone by chaplains at such military posts, were they assigned to them. A pleasant little experiment ~vas instituted here by our prot~g~, Harry, which shows hini possessed of something like the Mark Tapleyan philosophyto be jolly nuder the most adverse circumstances. Harry desired the luxury of a bath at the sea-side during the great heat of the summer, and obtained permission to indulge therein nnder the eye of the sentinel, though the commandant pointed significantly at the jewels on his legs. On reaching the wharf Blank seized a stick of cord-wood, threw the chain over it with a turn or two to make se- cure, and shoved off into deep water for a swim mnch to the surprise and amusement of the crowd, and much to the horror of the sentry, who feared that his charge had exceeded in- structions. THE HINT OF DAWN. FROM the green hollows of the sea Where, halt the circle of the hours, The sheltering waves flowed over me, I rose, and sought my skyey bowers. The happy west winds blew about Their sweetest airsthe trumpets they When all the serried spears of day Went bristling down their lofty rout, Beneath vast oriflammes tossed out In rippling interchange to greet me; While pale glad stars thronged forth to meet me Wtth silvery-fine aerial shout; And swift the news from sky to sky was blown, And all the arch~ of heaven I made my own! 0 though thus regent of the dusky deep, Witch of its mysteries, while every blush That on my cheeks swart outline fain would sleep Dies neath my listless eyes exceeding hush, Yet toward the limit of my power I sweep. At last, with all my creeping scouts withdrawn, I hang and listen for some sound of doom, Some far faint voice of morning and of bloom A rustle in the nest beside the sheaf, A dropping of the dew from leaf to leaf When underneath the shadows stirs the dawn. Ay me! our frosty argents tarnished are! Reel fast, my realm, from your sublime adorning. Divided sceptre yield with sullen scorning, Challenge the east from farthest gorge and scaur! Yet, alas! gulfed within the primal charm, Twilight most simmer to a golden calm, And ye, a silent spectral host, must fleet, Ilurled headlong in precipitous retreat Down huge abysses black with sudden ya~vning, The great shield of the sea upon your arm, Tossing above tumultuous spume and harm Till orient winds blow all the heavens sweet. When, climbing opaline slopes, a star Leans on resplendent battlements of warning, With glittering spear and casque, looks from afar Oer the serene of morning! ImAnava EXPERIMENT. AN EXCURSION TO WATKINS GLEN. 37 AN EXCURSION TO WATKINS GLEN. By PORTE CRAYON. THE wise Solomon snubs a class of people who are eternally babbling about the su- periority of the former days, and lamenting the decease of the good old times; but if any one has reason to complain, it is surely the modern traveler, who may be permitted to look back with envy and regret to those by-gone ages when the means of locomotion were so limited, and popular credulity so unlimited. When the tourist, on taking up his staff and scrip, or settling himself in his dug-out for an excursion, was stimulated by the reasonable hope of seeing something new under the sun; in the days when Jason went in search of the golden fleece; when sage Ulysses spent so many adventurous years paddling about in that shal- low puddle, the Mediterranean; when the pious neas made that famous subterranean jour- ney to explore a country which the pious folks of the present day are not supposed to visit when traveled Herodotus told his entertaining stories; and when, instead of one great over- shadowing publishing concern, every prince and hero entertained a Harper of his own to pub- lish his life and actions, not in cloth and gilt bound volumes, to he sneered at and discredit- ed by unfriendly and hireling critics, but issued viva voce at high festivals and jolly suppers, to audiences filled with meat and drink and ami- able credulity. Those were, indeed, the days for travelers, bards, historians, and all other professors of the imaginative arts. But since the insatiable An- glo-Saxon has done our world so thoroughly, where shall we direct our restless steps with the rational hope of discovering a novelty, or what chance for indulgence in the poetic luxury of aberration, when any free-school brat may ques- tion your facts or criticise your geography? Indeed, for the romance of travel, we may as well concede that the surface of our present establishment is about used up, and until the coming man discovers a practicable entrance to the interior, or perfects aerial navigation suf- ficiently to enable us to visit our neighboring Lunatics, the tourist may as well lay aside pen and pencil, take half a dozen magazines and newspapers, light his pipe, and imitate the clev- er M. Gonzalez with his Voyages en Pan- toufles. In accordance with the foregoing reflections we had sat down in our slippers, lighted our pipe, and cut the leaves of our fresh magazine, when the mail brought us an invitation to visit the region of the minor lakes in Western New York. At the reading the air was balmy with the buds and blossoms of early May; the bluebirds warbled lovingly as they worked at their cot- tage-building in the eaves; and boon Nature seemed to have put on all her blandishments to induce acceptance. Then we were promised a select company in a special car. Among the excursionists there would be editors, artists, clergymen, scholars, poets, and philosophers, such as travel to gath- er ideas rather than dimes; men who live and labor to develop the true, the beautiful, the elevated, rather than to heap up the mere means of living; whose labors are so often fu- tile and whose lives failures for lack of those very means, which old Gradgrind accumulates so easily, and dont know how to spend. We were to meet in Baltimore, at the d~p6t. of the Northern Central Railroad, on Monday, the 9th of May. The hour of starting 12.40 by bell and whistle. Accepted. GLEN ~IOUNTAIN uousz.

AN EXCURSION TO WATKINS GLEN. 37 AN EXCURSION TO WATKINS GLEN. By PORTE CRAYON. THE wise Solomon snubs a class of people who are eternally babbling about the su- periority of the former days, and lamenting the decease of the good old times; but if any one has reason to complain, it is surely the modern traveler, who may be permitted to look back with envy and regret to those by-gone ages when the means of locomotion were so limited, and popular credulity so unlimited. When the tourist, on taking up his staff and scrip, or settling himself in his dug-out for an excursion, was stimulated by the reasonable hope of seeing something new under the sun; in the days when Jason went in search of the golden fleece; when sage Ulysses spent so many adventurous years paddling about in that shal- low puddle, the Mediterranean; when the pious neas made that famous subterranean jour- ney to explore a country which the pious folks of the present day are not supposed to visit when traveled Herodotus told his entertaining stories; and when, instead of one great over- shadowing publishing concern, every prince and hero entertained a Harper of his own to pub- lish his life and actions, not in cloth and gilt bound volumes, to he sneered at and discredit- ed by unfriendly and hireling critics, but issued viva voce at high festivals and jolly suppers, to audiences filled with meat and drink and ami- able credulity. Those were, indeed, the days for travelers, bards, historians, and all other professors of the imaginative arts. But since the insatiable An- glo-Saxon has done our world so thoroughly, where shall we direct our restless steps with the rational hope of discovering a novelty, or what chance for indulgence in the poetic luxury of aberration, when any free-school brat may ques- tion your facts or criticise your geography? Indeed, for the romance of travel, we may as well concede that the surface of our present establishment is about used up, and until the coming man discovers a practicable entrance to the interior, or perfects aerial navigation suf- ficiently to enable us to visit our neighboring Lunatics, the tourist may as well lay aside pen and pencil, take half a dozen magazines and newspapers, light his pipe, and imitate the clev- er M. Gonzalez with his Voyages en Pan- toufles. In accordance with the foregoing reflections we had sat down in our slippers, lighted our pipe, and cut the leaves of our fresh magazine, when the mail brought us an invitation to visit the region of the minor lakes in Western New York. At the reading the air was balmy with the buds and blossoms of early May; the bluebirds warbled lovingly as they worked at their cot- tage-building in the eaves; and boon Nature seemed to have put on all her blandishments to induce acceptance. Then we were promised a select company in a special car. Among the excursionists there would be editors, artists, clergymen, scholars, poets, and philosophers, such as travel to gath- er ideas rather than dimes; men who live and labor to develop the true, the beautiful, the elevated, rather than to heap up the mere means of living; whose labors are so often fu- tile and whose lives failures for lack of those very means, which old Gradgrind accumulates so easily, and dont know how to spend. We were to meet in Baltimore, at the d~p6t. of the Northern Central Railroad, on Monday, the 9th of May. The hour of starting 12.40 by bell and whistle. Accepted. GLEN ~IOUNTAIN uousz. 38 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGA~LNE. ENTlIANOF TO WATKINS GLFN. AN EXCURSION TO WATKINS GLEN. 39 All aboard! Fizzlesqueakding-dong rumble-rumble, and away we go, out of the hurry-skurry, smoke, and suffocation of the d& - piit into the open air and sunlight. Puffing and rolling onward through the long, weari- some vistas of hrick and mortar streets, until at length, the dusty corporation limits passed, our noses scent the incense-laden breath of the country. The free, buxom, artless country, all l)uds and blossoms and blushes, like a May queenher bashful charms enhanced by a thin veil of violet haze, whose transparency but stim- ulates the ardent glances of her accepted lover, the stin. Reclining on spring-cushioned, cut velvet seats, realizing the luxury, if not the poetry, of motion, our excursionists revel in the perfumed atmosphere and tender-tinted landscapes, di- luted a little and the garishness toned down by dense clouds of tobacco smoke, and express their resthetic emotions in stenographic phrase- ology. Fine day. Very. Nice weather. Hottish. Puff; puff. Cigar ? Thank you, noprefer a pipe. Puff; puff. What baskets are those ? Grub. And the bottles? Ale and Bourbon. Ab! how invigorating and appetizing! What? pure country air and water? Try this alewith a toast A country duck, But a city cook. heres another to the same purpose: A country lass In a city dress. But, like the light skirmishing which preludes the general engagement, this presently closed in more earnest conversation; for our company was composed of men of travel, elegant culture, and varied abilitiesmany-sided men, as the Germans call them, who are readily jostled into social congruity, whose characteristic angulari- ties are easily adjusted, like hexagonal figures; whose differences and (logmatisms were domi- neered and harmonized by a mysterious sym- })athy, like that which unites the votaries of a common religion. Fellow-worshipers at the shrine of the beautiful, this sweet May day was dedicated to their divinity. The universal majesty, before whom all conceits, prejudices, and opinions bend the knee; in whose homage all ages, languages, and civilizations unite at the gates of whose temple all the ascending paths of human progress must finally meet; in whose service all sincere and honorable work- ers, whether in politics, society, science, art, or religion, are brethren. Most people go through the world with eyes and hearts both blind to its greatest beauties and highest enjoyments; or if they look at all, it is through a gimlet-hole, at such objects only as may be connected with their own narrow oc- cupations and interests. Thus, while our un- tiring Yankee has pretty thoroughly reconnoi- tered the agricultural, mineral, manufacturing, commercial, and gullible capacities of our broad inheritance, called (why mince matters?) the Western Continent, its nobler resources and attractions are so commonly ignored that the tourist, with artistic and poetic eyes, in passing through regions which have been pastured, plowed, catacombed with mines, gridironed with railroads, and smoked by factory chimneys for years, stumbles continually upon delightful sur- prises, natural picture - galleries of exquisite beauty and surpassing grandeur, of which the world has never heard, and which are scarcely known, much less appreciated, by the busy muck-rakes in their immediate vicinity. Thus, in sweeping across Central Pennsylva- nia, we saw a region teeming with intelligent industry and material wealth, covered with well- cultivated farms, and dotted with thriving ~il- lages and stately cities. We had heard of these things, boastfully reiterated, and were not disappointed. But we had in addition what we had never heard talked ofa succes- sion of the most beautiful scenic pictures that ever regaled the eye of an artist or warmed the fancy of a poet. We do not remember to have seen any where a panorama superior to that exhibited by the broad Susquehanna, with its green islands, limpid waters, and blue mount- ain embankments. As we glided smoothly and rapidly along the well-conducted thoroughfare, it was enjoyable as an opium dream to watch how each vanishing picture was replaced by an- other equally charming ere one had time to re- gret its passage. It was, indeed, quite equal to standing on a corner in Charles Street, on a pleasant after- noon, with a full stream of Baltimore beauties flowing along the sidewalks. Having left York, Harrisburg, and Sunbury behind, evening overtook us as we approached Wilhiamsport, one hundred and seventy-eight miles distant from our starting-point. There is a limit to all emotions, even to our purest and most healthful enjoyments, and we experienced a certain sense of relief when Mo- ther Night kindly drew her curtain over the pie tures. We had seen quite enough for one day, and having switched off in front of the Herdic House, we land and say good-by until to-mor- row morning. This elegant railroad hotel and summer re- sort is the nucleus of a handsomely improved suburb of Williamsporta town of fifteen or t~venty thousand inhabitants, living and thriv- ing on saw-mills and the lumber trade. In size and appointments the Herdic com- pares with our first-class city hotels, with the advantage, however, of being located in the 40 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. midst of an extensive and umbrageous park, where its guests may sit in the shade and in- dulge in rural conceits, uninterrupted by the harsh screaming of the locomotives; for here all movements of trains are arranged by silent signalswhich may be noted, by-the-way, as an advance toward a higher civilization in railway management. After a nights repose and a solid breakfast we took the road again, leaving the Susque- hanna and running up the fertile and picturesque valley of the Lycoming. As we ascend, the hills grow wilder and more abrupt, the valley more limited, and the scen- ery, although still charming, loses much of its breadth and grandeur. On this portion of the route there are numerous summer resorts, which offer mineral waters, pure air, and trout- fishing to the wearied cit who would escape for a season from the heat and business of the town. At Hinnequa, the most ambitious of these hotels, the attractions consist of a sulphur spring and a bearthe ~vater weakly mineral- ized, and the bear rather small and uninterest- ing. Rising from the valley by the inclined planes we cross a summit level which shows us a more open and cultivated coun- try, with a wider hori- zon, and divers fresh- looking villages, with an inordinate pro- l)ortion of church steeples. At length we find ourselves in the State of New York, and, during a brief stop- page, catch a glimpse of Elmira, a beauti- ful to~vn with whole streets of handsome villas and ornate cot- tages embowered in trees and blooming shrubbery. Anon we enter the Slashes, at the head of Seneca Lake, and after running for sev- eral miles through water up to the hubs of the car - wheels, emerge at Watkins. This pretty Wlluge stands high and dry at the head of lake navigation, overlook- ing the submerged meadows through which we had trav- eled, and command- ing a charming view of the lake and the grand amphitheatre of hills which encircle its head waters. The look-out in every direction was pleasant, and the air hazy with the perfume of flowers and blooming orchards. Seneca, like a blue mirror framed in gently sloping hills, is beau- tiful exceedingly ; but we had by this time be- come familiarized with pretty things, and en- joyed it mildly. Dinner was served, and after that we sallied forth to see the village wondec the Glen. Our route led us directly up the main street of the town, with pretty cottages and orna- mented grounds on either side. The surround- ing country appeared so smooth-featured that we wondered, as we walked, ~vhere those sav- age scenes, vaguely described to us, could be located. About half a mile from our hotel we reached a bridge spanning a limpid streamn. Looking to the right, a quarter of a mile distant, we per- ceive this stream issues from a cavernous open- ing at the base of a perpendicular cliff some three hundred feet in height above the road. As we approach nearer we see a steep rustic vIz~v FROM GLEN ALPHA. AN EXCURSION TO WATKINS GLEN. 41 stairway raised against the face of the rock, crossing the fissure by a narrow bridge, and connecting with other steps xvhich are hidden beneath the shadows of overhanging trees. Still nearer, the impressiveness of the scene is reinforced by a de~p-toned, subterraneous roaring, and glimpses of a column of water leaping from a height of thirty feet into a black caldron beneath the bridge. Now we see the sharp-cut, narrow rift ex- tending from the summit to the base of the cliffclosed in above the bridge by masses of evergreen foliage; below, all bare and black, like the mouth of a cavern. It was not necessary for our guide to name it. This is the entrance to the Glen, and with one accord we all stood still to take in the full measure of its impressiveness. This, said the poet, is a suggestive gate- way to a region of wonders. And this, said the artist, is worthy of a sketch. And, having selected his point of view, he went to work with crayon and sketch- book, while the rest of the company entered the Glen and disappeared from our sight. Attracted by the novelty, some boys who had been angling for minnows left their sport, and gathered around to stare. Presently the artist made an impatient gesture, and quoted the An- cient Mariner Water, water every where, And not a drop to drink. My boy, said he, addressing one of the juve- nile gapers, wouldnt you like to have a hand in getting up this picture ? The boy seemed a little mystified, btit ex- pressed his willingness to be useful in any way that he could. Then run to that house and get me a cup of water. The errand was promptly accom- plished, and rewarded by thanks and a small item of fractional currency. Thankee yourself, replied the boy, with effusion. I say, mister, Im jist going down here to fish a little; and if you want any thing more, jist call me, for I likes to run errands for people that gives me money. Our sketcher was not thirsty, as we had sup- posed, but only in need of water to liquefy his India ink, to deepen the shadows of his picture. It was speedily completed, and pronounced a success. The artist observed, with some com- placency, that the rudest drawing conveyed ideas more graphically and geographically than the most elaborate word-painting; and yet, he continued, looking up and around, how feeble all our arts appear in the majestic pres- ence of nature Then we go forward together; mount the stairway, light with expectancy; crossing the bridge, not without a tremor as we glance down- ward into the black, tumultuous abyss. Ascend- ing a few more steps we turn a corner, and are in the Glen. A dramatic surprisestartling, savage, hideous! But we are not yet hope- lessly engulfedswallowed by these horrible jaws; for, looking outward, we may still catch a glimpse of the bright, luxurious world we are leaving. There ~ve may see the stream, glad of its escape from the torturing tumult of its dark prison, dancing in the golden sunlight, hastening through blooming orchards and green meadows down to the lake, rejoicing like a wandering child that has found its mother; over all the blue mountains and bright sky the most smiling and loving of natures pictures, set in a narro~v frame of black, slimy, frightful crags. But it becomes us not to linger here, to gaze upon this melting beauty. Kiss your hand to her like a knightly lover, say farewell, and summon up your spirit for the rugged work before us. It is like the sudden plunge from peace into war. We anticipate with fear and trembling. We recoil with horror from the verge. We take the frantic leap; and, now now that our blood is up, we feel that the red glare ceases to offend, but even stimulates the eye more gratefully than the gentle blue. War has its horrible charms, its grand emotions, its glories, which at times render the memory of peace insipid. So, now we have fairly entered the Glen, and adjusted our faculties to the sub- ject, we will find therein wonders, sublimhies, grim beauties, and tumultuous excitements fully to compensate us for the tame, easy-going world we have left outside. Encouraged by the success of his external picture, our artist made his entree with an air of assurance; but ere he had reached Glen Alpha his countenance fell, and his look of complacency departed. This, he exclaimed, is stunning! Rem- brantesque! Gustave Dor~sque !confounded chaos! Theres no place to sit down, no point of view, no perspectiveunless one lies on his back and looks upward, or leans over a hand- rail face downward. To get a picture here the horizontal line must be perpendicular, with the vanishing point in the clouds or the bowels of the earth. Advancing, however, a short distance into Glen Alpha, the prospect began to improve, for there were four cascades in perspective, and a glimpse of blue sky through the narrow rift above. Choosing a convenient seat just beneath a projecting ledge, secure from annoyance of the dripping water or a chance fragment of rock scaling from above, the artist again began his labors. As the work progressed, and by the skillful management of light and shade the flat surface of the paper began to exhibit the cav- ernous depths and distances of the actual scene before us, the workman resumed his strain of cheerful enthusiasm: What a glorious picture this would make if skillfully rendered in color, by such a hand, for example, as that of Church or Bierstadt! And yet, he continued, there appears to be little or no color in itall light and shado~v, sharply de- fined, with very little middle tint or gradation. HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. GLEN ALVIIA. 42 / \7 AN EXCURSION TO WATKINS GLEN. 48 One might sup- pose, too, that these grim, Si- lent, hard-featured rocks were steady sitters, and the laughing, dancing cascades, all froth and motion, were hard to catch; hut it is just the re- verse. The leaping waters perform theirgvmnastic ev- olutions, foaming, fretting, flashing, dimpling, by cer- tain rules, so rapid- ly and continuous- ly repeated that the eye soon catch- es the method, and the likeness is easi- lyfixed; hutwhat with the changing shadows from the clouds, or the sun- light creeping over their foreheads, the rocks are con- tinually showing new profiles and changing their as- pect, so as fre- quently to lose all resemblance to themselves from hour to hour But here comes something to en- liven our solitude a comely ma- tron, followed by two little girls carrying baskets. They mount the dizzy ladders, and hasten along the slippery, shelving paths with an incurious assurance which indi- cates that they are not strangers here. Now they turn aside, and scrambling up the banks, hegin to fill their baskets with choice specimens of mosses, ferns, and wild flowers. These are some tasteful dwellers in the village below, ~vho gather material in this wild conservatory to re- plenish their vases, borders, and hanging bas- kets at home. When they were gone there followed up from the gorge below a confusion of articulate sounds loud talking mingled with shouts and merry laughter. Then came a troop of young peol)le gentlemen and ladies, doubtless, but it sounds pleasanter to call them boys and girls. From their eager gestures and wondering exclama tions it is easy to see they are strangers, doing the Glen for the first time. We will, moreover, risk our rel)utation on the assertion that the last couple are loverselse why do they linger so far behind their fellows, instead of emula- ting their adventurous activity? Why, instead of screaming, screeching, and exclaiming in tones that drown the laughter of the water-falls, do they glide along the narrow paths so quiet- ly, looking on the surrounding sublimities with cold glances of dutiful admiration, and lighten- ing with enthusiasm only when their faces are turned inward toward each other? Why clings she so timorously to his arm, claiming protec- tion where there is no sianger? Why does he watch and guide each step of hers with knightly THE CATHEDRAL. 44 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. tenderness, when she could take better care of her draggled skirts walking alone? How those gay colors and animated figures warm up and humanize these heartless rocks and water-falls! I wish they would stop for ten minutes; my pencil yearns for just such a group to enliven the foreground of this damp and dis- mal sepulchre. They did not tarry, however, and the moment after voices were heard as if descending from the clouds: Come up here, Josey! Hurry, hurry! What a lovely view! Aroused from their trance by these calls the rear-guard hastened forward, and the visitors disappeared amidst the intricacies of the ra- vine like a gleam of sunlight suddenly quenched, leaving the Glen enshrouded in deeper shadows than before. I wish they had tarried a while longer, said the artist, as he resumed his work; I wish they had waited; for, with all natures grandeurs and sublimities, the world would be dreary without them. Under the influence of these reflections the sketch was hastily finished, and we, too, re- sumed our explorations. Perched like an eagles nest upon the brow AaOvE THE cATlIas)r.AI.. of the cliff which overhangs the abyss from which we emerged, we first beheld an edifice, the work of human hands, whose architectural features are singularly adapted to the wild and rugged nature around it. Ascending a long flight of steps, steep but secure, we reached the broad veranda of the Mountain House, and, with agreeable surprise at the sudden transition, find ourselves high up out of the cavernous Glen, in the genial sun- light, and surrounded by a gay and excited company of visitors, all agog with what they have seen and what they still expect to see. The change was as dramatic as an entre-act in Per Freischdtz or Robert le Diable, when the curtain falls on the terrors of the Wolfs Glen or the Haunted Cloister, and one steps out to stretch his legs in the saloon, in the society of ice-creams, lemonades, simper- ing smiles, and every-day affectations. We had all these refreshments at the Mount- ain House, and, what was more, we enjoyed them with a zest. Our companions were all there waiting, and we found them discussing the Glen over some empty glasses and a table slopped with ale. Hillo, Porte, what have you made of it? Show us your sketch- es.~ First, let our poet laureate recite his verses composed on the occasion. Verses 1 exclaim- ed the poet. I give it up. The place re- minds me of the Mammoth Cave with the lid lifted off; but as for verses al- though rhymes come pat and plentiful, I could make no reason out of it all. I sat upon a wet rock down there, and for half an hour puzzled myself by stringing together all the wondering, thundering, roaring, pouring, flashing, splashing, crashing, dashing, roaming, foaming, rumbling, tumbling, jagged, cragged, onerous, sonorous adjectives that I could think of, until I got such a buzzing in my ears that I was fain to come up here and calm my excited im- agination with a glass of beer. AN EXCURSION TO WATKINS GLEN. 45 And, pray, can you tell us the name of this ? said the art- 1st, exhil)iting a wild flower of singular lieauty. I plucked it as I came along. That, replied the J)rofessor, isah-- that is that is snapping his fingers three times, and tap- ping his forehead ha- ])atiently that is my memory is vexa- tionslv bad. Im glad youve N forgotten it, said the laureate, for I am sure it is some jaw l)reaking Latin or Greek derivative that might wither so sweet a blossom in the bap- tism. The professor re- torted, with some as- perity, Its name be- longs to a technical vocabulary with which every scholar, and es- pecially a rhymer, should be acquainted, as it might help you out of many a metrical hobble, and, perhaps, save the sense of your verses on a pinch. Save me from such assistance ! ex- claimed the poet. They wonld be like a handful of gravel in my rhyming mill. Here the discussion was terminated by the departure of the gay party we had seen be- low. And is there more of it ? asked one with eagerness. More of it! They say that we have seen nothing compared to what is to come. Why, it is frightful to think of, Joe, whispered the pretty girl whom we had re- marked in Glen Alpha. Dont be scared, Kate, but just stick close to me, and Ill insure you safe through worse places than this Glen. And Kate clasped his arm as if she had made up her mind to stick through thick and thin. There go our future electors, observed our conservative friend. What is the world coming to? When women get into public life all the romance of chivalry must perish and be forgotten. Nonsense! cried the poet. Did you see him make an umbrella of his hat when they passed under that dripping rock? Talk to me of the decadence of chivalry, when any cock- sparrow of a merchants clerk is ready to sacri- fice a new hat to protect his sweethearts false curls! I tell you the sentiment is ineradicable, perennial Sempervirens is the botanical term, sug- gested the professor. Our friend perceived that the poet had just emptied his third glass, so he ignored the inter- Tiiii OA5OA])E. 46 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ruption, and addressed his discourse pointedly in another direction. When woman insists on giving up the sacred seclusion of domestic life, abandoning the dig- nified and elevated position in society which high civilization has accorded to her, and de- scends into the filthy arena of politics Then, interrupted the poet, she will bring her broom with her, and sweep the dirt out of it, and make it a fit place for gentlemen and good citizens, as she has swept and puri- fied every other arena to which she has been admitted. As the suhject was supposed to be one of gen- eral interest the company soon became involved in a general and simultaneous debate, the con- clusion of which it was difficult to foresee, as all talked and none listened. At this stage the champion of the dames withdrew from the lists, and occupied himself in scribbling over the blank page of a letter with a lead-pencil. In an incredibly short time he rose to his feet with the paper in his hand, and stopping the talk with an authoritative ahem, he said Gentlemen, this is really not worth talking about, and so please listen to my vie~vs, iii verse: ON WOMANS RIGHTS. ce qui ne vaut pus le peine dStre diton le chaste. Thunder and earthquakes! what a scare; Sultan and Pope for war prepare, A new rebellions brewing. In all the newspapers we note Our women have resolved to vote: Twill be mankinds undoing. Twill quite upset that ancient board Of registration, which ignorcd her rights, by nature given From mundane politics debarred, Dismissed her to be registered With marriagesin heaven. Oh, woman, in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and bard to please Thus sings the Scottish poet. Will she be more uncertain when In politics, more false and mean Than we have found her fellow-men? If so, wed like to know it. Shell practice law; God help the judge; The printed code may pass for fudge, Scarce worth his Honors reading. When law and logic fail shell weep, In fluent tears her kerchief steep; Then wholl reverse her pleading? 7- / (1k\~~ AN EXCURSION TO WATKINS GLEN. 41 The thoughts enough to strike one dumb, Youre sickthe lady doctors come Your fevered pulse to finger. At once your heart begins to drum Tis in the pericardium; This case is like to linger. Our churches next will he perplexed; In pulpit shell cxpouhd her text Shes half divine already. Mullerwe quote forgotten law Taceat in ecciesia (Woman in church must hold her jaw) What language to a lady! A-soldiering with right good-will, Shell gayly march to camp and drill, With musket, fife, and drumming. The lines shell dress with nicest skill, And een when sallying forth to kill, Still dress to look becoming. When empty drums sound loud alarms Shell march, arrayed in all her charms, To meet the opposing gender. Still lovelier mid impending storms, She only need present her arms Dont shoot, girlswell surrender. Victorious in election races, Our halls of state at length she graces, Regardless of expenses. Then policy, in all high places, Will be to cheapen foreign laces And multiply the census. Well, let her have it as she will, Shell be the sculptors model still, Queen of the poets rhymes. The painter still his pallet mix To match the warm life in her cheeks, As in the good old times. Yes, let it come, for evermore Twill be as it has been before Since apples grew in Eden: Should she invite we all must bite; Refusal would not be polite, Nor sanctioned by good-breeding. Then courage, boys, fair play for all, Though girls should vote the sky wont fall, So love we one another. The candidates we nominate Be blue-eyed Mary, blushing Kate; And if theyll but reciprocate Well rule the world together. This effusion was received with loud applause and a rattling of glasses. The company rose and resumed their walk; and the debate was dbandoned, not without some murmuring. The professor hinted that there was more wit in the French motto than in the verses; while the con- servative was shocked at the levity manifested in the consideration of so awful a suhject. The path for some distance now winds along a hill-side sunlit and spangled with wild flowers. Far below, nuder the shadows of pines, cedars, ~~nd hemlocks, half hidden by the dark foliage, the persistent stream toils through the contort- ed windings of Glen Obseura. Down there it appears as if Nature had been trying experi- ments to ascertain what might be done with water and rocks without actually stultifying her own laws or overleapiug the narrow limit be- tween facts and impossibilities; and queer work she has made of it. En reefe the professor lectured on the botany of the Glen, declaring that, except in an arti- ficial conservatory, he had never seen so great a variety in one locality. Many of the plants found here are exotic in this region outside; and the growth embraces a climatic range from Labrador to the Carolinas. But as we crossed a narrow foot-bridge all eyes were lifted upward, while the handfuls of innocent fresh-gathered flowers were cast care- lessly into the rushing current of forgetfulness. We stood at the entrance of the Cathedral; and from the consideration of microcosmic infinity our minds were suddenly turned to a scene of infinite grandeur. This is, by common consent, the most striking view in the Glen; and it is certainly very impress- ive and emotional, with its towering cliffs, its broad flag-stone flodring, its transparent, glassy pools, reflecting the blue heavens and the over- hanging sunlit trees; its flashing water-fall, like a high altar, adorning its upper extremity; its shelving strata, supported by rows of gigantic caryatides, weird mimicry of the sculptors art. But why waste words? The artist has al- ready pointed his crayons, selected his point of view, and assumed the task of description. He says the view is grand, open, charming; but not near so astounding and impressive nor so picturesque as sonic others. But this is not the age for new dogmas, even in matters of taste; and we magnanimously invite each vis- itor to see for himself, and enjoy his own opinions. This picture finished, we move on, crossing LOTT a. i)AVI5~ ACEi) 57. 48 HAIIPEWS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. more streams and climbing more stair-ways. into tbis sudden abyss. Yet they come like a From this bridge just at tbe bead of the Cathe- shower of light, aqueous meteors darting down- dral Fall we may pause and look back without ward into the gloom. fearing the fate of unhappy Orpheus or Lots At every turn here there is material for a wife. We bave one of the most characteristic wonderful picture, and when our time is limited views of water-carved rocks and boiling waters it is difficult to make n selection. Still for- in tbe Glen. Just in the centre, wbere the con- ward, we wind along a shelving path tbat gives torted outline of the upper shelf meets the dark a dry passage under the waterfall on the left. shadow of the nether gulf, we see a huge head Beyond there is still a mile or more to be cx- l)obbing grotesquely up and down, with curling 1)lored, full of curious and pretty things; but locks of ghastly whiteness, like those of Un- we have climbed so many ladders, steps, and dines frightful uncle, Khulebom. This is the stair-ways that we must he approaching the level head of the Cathedral Cascade. of the upper world; indeed, the diminished Now forward, and up a few shelving steps in height of the cliffs indicates this sufficiently, the rock, and we have before us the scene and may account for our diminishing interest. which, in our opinion, climaxes all the beauties Then we know Nature is under bonds never to and subhimities of the Glen. repeat herself; and we begin to suspect she The main stream descends in a perspective must be getting straitened for new patterns of of sparkling cascades, uniting a succession of water-falls. She had better consult Harpers circular pools in deep stone basins or wells, Bazar of last season, or close the exhibition. grooved and polished like finely wrought mar- A short distance above we met the faithful ble. On either side the cliffs rise to an awful and ingenious road-maker of the Glen, who in height, showing rocky entablatures, with archi- formed us that the practicable highway ended trave, frieze, and cornice as clean cut and ~vell for the present in a certain dark pool of un- proportioned as those of a Grecian temple. known depth. The news was not unwelcome, Over these come pouring adventurous stream- for we felt as if we had been spending the day lets from the upper worldfoolish young creat- with the Undines. ares that have wandered and fallen un~vittingly Retracing our steps, we observed many beau- tiful points which in the eagerness of our advance we had over- looked. There is a deep circular well, ~vhose obscurity is par- tially lighted by the shimmer of a slender cascade, which is one of the most remarka- He objects in the col- lection. Returned to the Mountain House, we began to suspect it was near dinner time, and concluded to go back to town by the short road across the lull. here again was a scene in dramatic con- trast with those we had just turned our backs on. The pretty vil- lage, the lake, and the horizon of hills all melting and swimming in the warm golden sunlight just as we had left them, but warmer. Where are we now? Whose are these beau- tiful grounds, with flower-starred turf and groups of stately ever- greens? Tombs! ah, yes! we are passing THE PATELAReim. through the cemetery. ANNE FURNESS. 49 Thus alwav s, after our day of hope and achieve ment, this is our nearest way home. Yet the view of so glorious a resting-place might cheer our hearts even amidst the gloom of the dark valley. Thus ended our first day at the Glen. Some of the company remained a week or more, steaming tip and down the lake, and visiting other objects of interest in this delight- ful region. There are other glens niid ~vater- falls, of themselves well worthy the attention of the tourist, whose wonders and beauties are second only to the Glen at Watkins. There are pleasant drives through a country dotted with neat villages, blooming with or- chards and vineyards, abounding in all agreea- ble and picturesque objects; but we returned to the Glen day after day, and found that, instead of palling, its weird charms rather grew upon us~ At each visit some ne~v beauty was devel- oped, some curious nook or angle, unremarked before, arrested our attention and we took leave regretfully, impressed with the belief that we had not seen the half of its wonders. In conclusion, we would commend the spot to some of our great landscape artists, as l)iom ising subjects worthy of their powers. To the invalid there is no more healthful or invigora ting resort. To complete its claims to their re gard there is now in process of erection a large and convenient sanitarium, where the malinger- ing public may he dosed with pure air, exer- cise, and cheerful recreationnatures medi- cineson scientific principles. If any one doubts the superior healthfulness of this region let him visit our ancient friend, Thomas Terrvberrv, who lives at the head of the Glen. This pmitriarch, still brisk and merry as a cricket, alert on his feet as a boy, with all his faculties clear and sound, boasts that he is ninety-seven years of age. No~v as we have the best local authority for asserting that he has been ninety-seven for the last sixteen years, we may safely predict that lie can live sixteen years longer without getting much ahead of his century. No l)lace is more easy of access than \Vat- kins, located directly on the great lines of travel to and from Niagara, of which the Glen is a worthy pendant; and any modern Dr. Syntax, philosophically curious in sight-seeing, may have the opportunity to decide whether it is more enjoyable to take ones quantum of sub- limnity in one stunning, foaming gulp, or to sip it more coolly and luxuriously through a spin- dling tunnel three miles in length. ANNE FURNESS. B~ THE AUTHOR OF MABELS PimounEsS, AuKT MARGARETS TROUBLE, VEitONIcA, ETC. CHAPTER XXXVJI. X ~ OTHER was crying when I went into the Li room. She hastily wiped her eyes, and turned her back to the light when she saw mc. But I had l)ercei~ed the tears. Did you see your grandfather ? she asked, in a quick, confused way. XVhat did he say ? I briefly told her of my grandfathers absence from Horsiugham, and of his being expected back at night. She gave a little sigh, partly of disappointment, partly of reliet~ She had dreaded the time ~vhen my grandfather should learn the truth. Then, before I spoke of the letter, which I had slipped into my pocket, I in my turn questioned her. What is the matter, mother? Youre not youre not fretting for me ? Not repenting what we did this morning? Dear mother, Im & ure it was a right thing to do, and I am so thankful that we accomplished it. No, dear. I have not been fretting about that. Then is there any new grief come to von ? She hesitated for seine time to answer, saying it was nothing; she had been foolish in taking it so much to heart. At length, fearing that I should think the matter worse than it really was, she told me that she had had two troubles since I had been absent. The first had been Flowers very unexpected appearance. My fa- iher was in Rorsiugham. Mother was alone Von. XLIILNo. 253.4 in the house. Flower had walked in, with un- abashed front, and requested to see her. I-Ic had come, he said, for his money. A quarters wages were owing to him, which he peremp- torily demanded. Mother told him Hint he had forfeited all right to his wages by running away from the house, in the manner lie had done, without a word of warning ; but that if money was really due to himwhich she did not at all knowit might be that his master would pay him some portion of it, if lie al)plied for it in a proper mannem. She (mother) could do nothing for hini. lIe must speak with Mr. Furness. But this did not suit Flower. He tried to persuade her into giving him some money then and there. She aught have been weak enough to do so, in order to get rid of him, hind she had the means; but she had them not. On this the fellow grew very insolent; threatened all sorts of vague vengeance; declared that it had been a bad day for him when lie came into such a beggarly house; and, in fine, was unreasonable and insolent, as was the nature of him. But through his vague threats of vengeance some- thing definite had pierced. Re knew all about Mr. Gervase Lacer. Miss Anne would not much like him to spread what he knew in Rorsinghamn. All that he had said that time Mr. Furness blackgmmarded him for it had been trueand more! Why had he denied it, then, amid begged pardon? Why, because Mr. Lacer

ANNE FURNESS. 49 Thus alwav s, after our day of hope and achieve ment, this is our nearest way home. Yet the view of so glorious a resting-place might cheer our hearts even amidst the gloom of the dark valley. Thus ended our first day at the Glen. Some of the company remained a week or more, steaming tip and down the lake, and visiting other objects of interest in this delight- ful region. There are other glens niid ~vater- falls, of themselves well worthy the attention of the tourist, whose wonders and beauties are second only to the Glen at Watkins. There are pleasant drives through a country dotted with neat villages, blooming with or- chards and vineyards, abounding in all agreea- ble and picturesque objects; but we returned to the Glen day after day, and found that, instead of palling, its weird charms rather grew upon us~ At each visit some ne~v beauty was devel- oped, some curious nook or angle, unremarked before, arrested our attention and we took leave regretfully, impressed with the belief that we had not seen the half of its wonders. In conclusion, we would commend the spot to some of our great landscape artists, as l)iom ising subjects worthy of their powers. To the invalid there is no more healthful or invigora ting resort. To complete its claims to their re gard there is now in process of erection a large and convenient sanitarium, where the malinger- ing public may he dosed with pure air, exer- cise, and cheerful recreationnatures medi- cineson scientific principles. If any one doubts the superior healthfulness of this region let him visit our ancient friend, Thomas Terrvberrv, who lives at the head of the Glen. This pmitriarch, still brisk and merry as a cricket, alert on his feet as a boy, with all his faculties clear and sound, boasts that he is ninety-seven years of age. No~v as we have the best local authority for asserting that he has been ninety-seven for the last sixteen years, we may safely predict that lie can live sixteen years longer without getting much ahead of his century. No l)lace is more easy of access than \Vat- kins, located directly on the great lines of travel to and from Niagara, of which the Glen is a worthy pendant; and any modern Dr. Syntax, philosophically curious in sight-seeing, may have the opportunity to decide whether it is more enjoyable to take ones quantum of sub- limnity in one stunning, foaming gulp, or to sip it more coolly and luxuriously through a spin- dling tunnel three miles in length. ANNE FURNESS. B~ THE AUTHOR OF MABELS PimounEsS, AuKT MARGARETS TROUBLE, VEitONIcA, ETC. CHAPTER XXXVJI. X ~ OTHER was crying when I went into the Li room. She hastily wiped her eyes, and turned her back to the light when she saw mc. But I had l)ercei~ed the tears. Did you see your grandfather ? she asked, in a quick, confused way. XVhat did he say ? I briefly told her of my grandfathers absence from Horsiugham, and of his being expected back at night. She gave a little sigh, partly of disappointment, partly of reliet~ She had dreaded the time ~vhen my grandfather should learn the truth. Then, before I spoke of the letter, which I had slipped into my pocket, I in my turn questioned her. What is the matter, mother? Youre not youre not fretting for me ? Not repenting what we did this morning? Dear mother, Im & ure it was a right thing to do, and I am so thankful that we accomplished it. No, dear. I have not been fretting about that. Then is there any new grief come to von ? She hesitated for seine time to answer, saying it was nothing; she had been foolish in taking it so much to heart. At length, fearing that I should think the matter worse than it really was, she told me that she had had two troubles since I had been absent. The first had been Flowers very unexpected appearance. My fa- iher was in Rorsiugham. Mother was alone Von. XLIILNo. 253.4 in the house. Flower had walked in, with un- abashed front, and requested to see her. I-Ic had come, he said, for his money. A quarters wages were owing to him, which he peremp- torily demanded. Mother told him Hint he had forfeited all right to his wages by running away from the house, in the manner lie had done, without a word of warning ; but that if money was really due to himwhich she did not at all knowit might be that his master would pay him some portion of it, if lie al)plied for it in a proper mannem. She (mother) could do nothing for hini. lIe must speak with Mr. Furness. But this did not suit Flower. He tried to persuade her into giving him some money then and there. She aught have been weak enough to do so, in order to get rid of him, hind she had the means; but she had them not. On this the fellow grew very insolent; threatened all sorts of vague vengeance; declared that it had been a bad day for him when lie came into such a beggarly house; and, in fine, was unreasonable and insolent, as was the nature of him. But through his vague threats of vengeance some- thing definite had pierced. Re knew all about Mr. Gervase Lacer. Miss Anne would not much like him to spread what he knew in Rorsinghamn. All that he had said that time Mr. Furness blackgmmarded him for it had been trueand more! Why had he denied it, then, amid begged pardon? Why, because Mr. Lacer 50 HARPERS NEW MONThLY MAGAZINE. had tipped him to hold his tongue. A nice, respectable son-in-law Mr. Furuess had got hold of! And Flower would take care that all Hors- ingham knew his story. B Ut presently he had broken out in a still more insulting and ruffian- ly strain. Well, he wished Miss Anne joy, then, of the letters she had written to Lacer, that was all! She might be sure they would be made public enougb if it suited Lacers book to do so, unless Mr. Furness would buy him off. And finally Flower took his departure, after treating my mother to this scene, with a volley of coarse sneers and low abuse, which he utter- ed aloud on his way through the kitchen and across the garden, for the benefit of the two women-servants and any others who might be at hand to bear. What did he mean, Anne, by letters you had written to Gervase Lacer? asked my moth- er. The man was not quite sober, but I do not believe he was so intoxicated as not to know what he was saying. You never wrote to Mr. Lacer, did you ? I wrote to him twice. Once at your bid- (hag to ask him to dine or drink tea herea mere commonplace note of three lines. The other time I wrote to him was after I bad learn- ed from him that my father was concerned in having a race-horse trained secretly. I was disturbed by the thought night and day. I kept turning it over this way and that way in my mind. At length I wrote a little letter to Mr. Lacer, asking him if there were no means to preventto prevent all the trouble that did happen, after all. It ~vas not very wise ,per- haps, so to write. But I was so restless and unhappy I could have caught at the merest straw. The letter was one whichnowall the world might read. Of course, darling! But I was douhtftil of the fact of your having vritten at all. And how did Flower ascertain it ? Perhaps he posted the letter; I dont re- member. Nor is it worth a second thought. Dearest mother, dont let such a wretchs low malignity disttirb you. But you had a second trouble, you said. What was it ? The second trouble, Anne, is a more seri- ous one. AndIm afraid it will hurt you a good deal. Your father ~vent to Horsiugham. He was obliged to do so. There he heard that Matthe~v Kitchen bad put an execution into the Arkwrights house. That was a blow to him, for I think it opened his eyes to the hard, grasping character of the man. Father has al- ways said that Matthew was more reasonable and forbearing than people gave him credit for. Then there came worse. He saw Mrs. Ark- wright somewherein a shop or in the street and she began to rail npon him, laying her misfortunes at his door. Poor father She is violent, mother. But considerfive little children! And then her husband, whom she so idolizes Oh, Anne, I cant forgive her! It was too unjust. Your father attacked publicly in that way! Charged with the ruin of her family! It was too monstrous. And the worst is that father has so taken it to heart! He wont hear me blame the woman. No, he says; she was right, perhaps. I bring trouble and mis- ery on every one. My name is a by-word where it had been honored for generations! And so he goes on. It was cruel. I cant for- give her. And are we not making sacrifices to do right? Shall not we, too, be forced to go away from our pleasant home, and give up all we have in the world ? I felt that that was no time to plead or make excuses for Mrs. Arkwright. I thought that the letter I had brought with me would be the best means of soothing my mother, and turning her thoughts away from the thorny present to green pastures where we might hope, at least, for peace. I took it from my pocket, and held it up be- fore her eyes, telling her at the same time how I had come by it, and that grandfather had di- recte(l she should open it in his absence. Moth- ers face paled and flushed, and paled again, as she devoured the square, red-sealed envelope with her eyes. Oh, Anne ! she said, and clasped her hands tightly together. Oh, Anne! if it should heif it is Surely it is a bearer of good tidings, dear mother. The matter was nearly settled before. Ought not father to be present when we opeu it? Where is he? Let me call him. He is wandering about the shrubbery. But stay, Anne! Dont go, my child! If it should not be good news, after all! Let us spare him the chance of disappointment. Give it to me. Her hands shook so much that she tore the cover across in trying to open the letter. And she breathed quickly, and kept her lips parted, like a person parching with thirst. There were two lettersone from Colonel Fisher to my grandfather, the other from the new proprietor of the Scotch estate to Colonel Fisher himself. Mother looked at the latter first. It was very briefa few lines, as I could perceive without distinguishing the words, very neat and straight, and headed by a big gilt mono- gram. Mother kept her eyes fixed upon it for a much longer time than it could have taken to master its contents. She seemed to be reading it over and over again. At length, as she did not look up, I said, in a low voice, Well, mother ? But the chill of her silence had struck to my heart. I knewI knew! She glanced at me for a moment, and heaving a deep, long sigh, shook her head slightly. Then she hooked down again at the letter lying open on her lap. I took it tip and read it. But to this hour I can not recollect a word of it, although I gather- ed the sense of it instantly. It seemed to me as if the paper were covered by one wordNo! no! no! no !iti characters that quivered be- fore my quivering eyes. ANNE FURNESS. 51 We remained a long time without speaking. Then we tried to cheer each other. This one chance had failed, hot there would he others. We had had no right to make sure of success on the first attempt. So little trouble had been taken, after all. And so forth. You have not looked at the other letter, mother, said I. What does Colonel Fisher say? He may have heard of something else. Colonel Fisher! The words were echoed in my fathers voice, and ny father stood in the room. There was no help for it. He must read the ill news without any preparation. He soon dispatched the straight, neat lines, with their ostentations gilt monogram; read them almost at a glance, and tossed the note down on the table. Then lie took up Colonel Fishers letter to grandfather, and began to read it. My dear Doctor Hewson Why this is addressed to your father, Lucy. Yes; he is away, and left word that any letter from Scotland was to be sent here. I was to open it. Father then read the Colonels letter, hut not aloud. We watched his face. It did not move, or change much, except that a doll red color spread itself over his forehead and cheeks. I have said that my father was a tall man, stal- wart and upright. During these last few weeks he had become howed, and his head hung for~vard on his hreast with a moody air. It was as if failure and shame and disappoint- ment and remorse had been ponderable things, whose burden was laid upon his shoulders. He did not speak a word, but folded the let- ter again, laying it on the table before him, and smoothing it with the palm of his hand with a slo~v, monotonous motion. Mother, uneasy at his silence, began to talk in as unconcerned a manner as she could as- sume. It was a disappointment, of course; hut who could get a suitable situation at the very first attempt? Father might find some- thing in England. Perhaps he would like that better than going off to the Highlands. It might turn out well after all, might it not? Mr. Cudberry had spoken only the other day of a large estate in one of the eastern counties that he had heard of; the property of a minor; and the guardians wanted a responsible person as steward and general manager. And thus poor mother went on, gathering together what crumbs of comfort she could find, for her hus- bands disappointment. Disappointment! Was it disappointment? There was an inscrutable look in his face that attracted my attentive eyes to it incessantly, and as incessantly baffled their scrutinya look that made his face strangely unfamiliar to me, if I may use such a phrase. We speak of a face being liqhted up, and we all know what is meant by it. We know what it is to see the eves, those windows ofethe soul, shine with an inward fire. In my fathers countenance I could fancy that the reverse had taken place. Light after light had been quenched. The sun of the spirit had grown dim. The face was not altered as by age or imbecility. No, the lines were firm, the brows and jaw strong as ever. But behind that mask there was not light, but darkness. But I feel how inadequate are my words to convey the impression it made upon me. XYhile mother was speaking he continued to smooth the folded letter with the palm of his band, neither looking up nor making any other movement. When she paused he said in a queer, apathetic manner, and iti a monotonous tone, very unlike his old, robust voice, which had a wide range of notes in it, I suppose that your father would take care of you and Anne, if I were gone, Lucy ? Gone, George darling! Gone where ? Father shook his hcad. That I cant tell, said he, in the same manner as before. If you were obliged to he away for a time, of course we could be at Mortlands, Anne and I. But I had hoped we should all remain to- gether. Your father is displeased ~vith me; very justly. But Idontthinkhe wouldvisit iton youand the girl. The words droppetl out slowly, slowly, from his mouth, as rain still drips from the eaves when the force of a shower has long spent it- self. Father would do any thing in the world for us, or for you~ dear George! Indeed, in- deed he would. For me? He can do nothing for me. But he is a good man. I have always known that. Yoti must not say he can do nothing be- cause this first trial has failed. You are cast down by it. But let us look the state of the case fairly in the face. All debts will be paid. That is the first and chief comfort, is it not? You ~vill leave Water-Eardley owing no man a shilling. Nay, perhaps there may remain a little money in hand from the sale. If you have to wait a few weeks before finding em- ployment, we have a home to go to, and a wel- come. Mortlands would shelter us all, George dear. With your knowledge and experience and recommendations, it is difficult to suppose that you would be long without a situation. And you would not be foolishly proud. Yea would take any honest employment to start with. Why, when I see how clear and straight our way lies, I wonder that we can be despond- ent. It seems almost ungrateful, darling As mother spoke she had put her hand on fathers shoulder caressingly, and now stooped down and kissed his forehead. He did not re- spond to the caress, but looked up at her with haggard eyes, and said: It is easy to talk of things being clear and straight, and of all debts being honorably paid. Debts! Who knows whether there is enough to cover them? Who knows whether you and 52 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Anne have not beggared yourselves for nothing? shall von not curse me in your hearts if it turns out to be so? George ! cried my mother, and turned away from him, weeping. Nothing so cut her to the heart ns any word from him ~vhich seemed to sho~v that he fancied he had lost her love. It was a weary, dreary day, all that remained of it. But in the evening there was a hill moon, and we coaxed my hither to go with us into the garden. It was not warm, hut a serene, still night, nnd ~xe wrapped shawls round us and paced ahout the garden paths, among the flow- ers and shrubs, looking so spirit-pale it, the moonlight. Then we sat down on a garden bench, and lingered there until quite late. It was long since we three had been together un- disturhed. Mother sat encircled in my fathers aria. her head leaned upon his shoulder. One of her hands clasped his hand the other held one of mine. her face was upturned to the serene sky, and it looked, I thought, like one of the ~vhite, sxveet flowers at her feet. Father gre~~ less moody and despondent un- der the sweet, calm influences of the time and phice. He spoke more unreservedly than he had previously done ahotit Colonel Fishers letter. We (mother and I) had not read it. But he told us that it threw blame on him for not havhig writteti promptly to the gentleman whom he wished to employ him. That this latter was a touchy, self-important personage, who had considered himself affronted by his offer being treated with aplJarent indifference. That, consequently, he (the owner of the estate) had caused inquiries to be made, in the hope, Colonel Fisher said, of receiving answers unfa- vorable to my fathers character and fitness for the place. And questions so asked are gener- ally answered in the sense of the questioner. The result had been the neat, straightly written, gilt-monogrammeti note, briefly regretting to be obliged to decliiie Mr. IF urness s services. I remembered mothers urgent entreaties to may father to write to Scotland and make stren- uous application for tIme place before the fatal September races; and I was penetrated hv the angelic sweetness which led her to comfort and cheer niy father without one word of blame or even of regret, tor his self-willed infatuation. He felt it too, and spoke to her very softly and tenderly, and listened to her prophecies of fu- ture happy days in store for us, until the dull a~)athy and gloom which had enveloped him all day seemed to break here and there, as a cloud breaks, and to give us glimpses of his real, frank self. Well, Lucymy good Lucy! My perfect wife! I will try to hope against hope, he said, slowly. But I have a clog that youthank God !have not. And it weighs me down sorely, heavilya trouble d conscience, Lucy. But it may be thmtt all is not quite lost and ruined. If only My father never finished that sentence. But lie repeated the ~vords several times broodiugly, atid, as it were, to himself. If only ChAPTER XXXVIII. TImE next morning, early, not much after seven oclock, the Brookfield carrier, on his way from Horsiugham, brought mother a note from my graimdfather. It must have been written over- night, immediately after his arrival at Mort lands. The original of it lies before me, creased and faded by the years it has passed in mothers little Tunbridgewarc box, into which she I)ut it that morning after she and I had read it. This is the note My DEAREST Lucy,I am much put out by finding on my return home, not Donald Ayrhie, but a longish letter from him, to say that he has left hlorsiugham riltogether. I left hitn in charge of sonic poor patients. He fulfilled his trust loyally until the last moment. Then, being asstired that I ~vas coining hack, he fairly ran away. lie tefls mae that he found living on at Mortlands, where every room in the house, every shrub in the gartlen, is iu(his solubly associateti with Anne, was tnore than he could bear. The constant expectatiomi half hope, half fearof being brought face to face with her, kept hium on the rack. That I take to lie the truth, but riot all the trtith. l)isnppointed love is hard to bear; but I think he might have borne it. But there was jeal- ousy! 1)onald is capable of being unspeakably jealous, and he was met at every trim in Hors imighiam by reports of Annes engagement to that mann Lacer. Kettmrahi tells me it is spoken of by every one. But thiimk of the foolish hail going off in that way! Well, old folks shomdd not belie to win affection from their jummiors. I had fancied lie was fond of nie. And Ito tell yoti the truth, Lucythere is not much I would not do to got him back again. Bnt I dont know how to set about it. About Lacer is it true ? Lucy, Lucy, be careful ! As to Anne Let a nian think of the unhikehiest choice for a womnami to umake that his imagina- tion can compass, nine times omit of ten shell beat him by itmakimi g one umihikehier. And yet I tbomight I knew Ammime better. Oh, children, clmibhremm, for Gods sake dont be rash! I feel very lonely, and more heavy-hearted thmair I remember since your mother died. I loved that boy like a son. I ieee him like a son. He is a fine fellow, though he has deserted rue in this way. How I wish Child, I aiim selfish, like the rest of the world, arid harp upon my own special theme too much. Anne took a Scotch letter away, Keturab tells me. May it contain good imews! Urge George not on any account to delay writing himself There has been too mmmcli delay already. Moreovem, Keturab says that Anne is not look- hug wellpale, thin, lauuguid. I must see her. ANNE FURNESS. 53 But to-morrow, and the next day, and the day after that my hands ~vill be full, and no Don- ald to help me. By the end of the week I will come to Water-Eardley. I suppose George wont refuse to shake hands with me. I write this partly to let you know that I am not un mindful of von all, and partlvhecause I am self- ish, like the rest of the worldto ease my own heart a little. Always your loving father, ABEL HEwsox. Send to me, or say to me, or write to me the truth ahout Anne and thatLacer. If she is not engaged to him the news will he the hest cordial von could give me. It is had for a wom- an not to marry the right luau; hut to marry the wrong one If, on the other hand, it must he, and there is no help for it, put this in the fire, and say nothing about it to the child. A woman never forgives sinister auguries ahout her future husbandespecially if they come true. And Anne may want me some day. I would have no harrier hetween us that might make it difficult to her proud spirit to come to me for such counsel and help as I can give her. A. II. That was the letter; one very characteristic of my grandfather in every way. We who knew him understood the weight and value of each word in it very accurately. And we were sure that Donalds departure had heen a heavy blow to him. Whither 1)onald had gone was not stated. Perhaps my grandfather did not know it himself. But in all likelihood he would have gone to London, we said. There had been a talk of his doing so, in order to complete the studies necessary for his profession, mouths ago. But that would have been very difierent fruB his present ahrupt departure. That would have heen a temporary ahsence, duly prepared for and foreseen, and with the prospect of ultimately re- turning to Horsiugham at no distant date. I think it was very wrong of Donald to leave grandfather in that ~vay, said I. But as I said the words with cold severity I had hard work to keep down my teal~s, and there was that painful lump in my throat, which I suppose most peol)le have experienced. We can, at all events, give dear grand- father the cordial he sl)eaks of, ans~vered my mother, not looking at me, but at her coffee-cup we wore at hreakfast. It will comfort him to know thatthat report is untrue. I wish from the bottom of my heart that we were away from the place and the people in it! I exclaimed, bitterly. I had chosen to hlame Donald for going away, hut I myself felt a long- ing to fly from all the surroundings and associ- ations which had hecome odious to me. Mothers little half-suppressed sigh involun tarilv reproached me for the selfishness of my sl)eecll, I wish that we were away ! Were we not going away from the place that had been her happy home for many bright years from the place that held little harolds grave? Poor, patient, uncomplaining mother! I will try to he a comfort to you, darling mother ! I said, kissing her penitently. She looked a little surprised at this exclamation, fol- lowing almost immediately the expression of my wish that we were away from Horsiugham. She had not followed the sequence of my ideas. Father had not yet left his bed. I have men- tioned how he had gradually come to he a con- firmed sluggard, and what a trouble this had heen to my mother, until heavier griefs had made that seem insignificant hy contrast. But now we said to each other that it would be nec- essary for father to return to his old active habits, if any good were to he done either in the way of seeking employment or in keeping it when ohtained. I (lid not like to rouse him this morning, said mother, for it was hroad daylight hefore he fell asleep. lie was so restless and miser- able. I thought, said I, that my father had gone to hed in a calmer frame of mind than I had seen him in for some time. Yes; at first it seemed so. But I think it was only seeming. lie put on a more hopeful manner to please me. But that letter from Scotland hurt him more than you can fancy. What was the use of trying to get trusted? he said. No one would trust a man who had been false to his own family, and had ruined himself and them. And to be watched and snsl)ected, and to have his fault thrown in his teeth by strangers, was more than he could bear. I dont think father is well. All that is morhid and unlike himself. I think we ought to get grandfather to see him. No ; he is not well. But when I told him I thought so he shook his head, and said that I)r. llewson could do him no good. There ~vas only one medicine that could cure him. What did he mean by that ? lie meant that he should not he hetter until his mind was more at peace. And who can wonder at that? I had fallen asleep, and woke up in the middle of the night, to find your father wandering about the rooTa. The n~oon was setting, and I could just (himnly see him near the oaken press that stands in the recess in our bedroom. I called to him, and he bade me go to sleep again, lie had heen too restless to lie in bed, so had been walking about to try and tire himself out. Tllis morning, when it was quite daylight, he began to sleep, as I told you, and I had not the heart to disturb him when I got ul). Mother and I sat quietly in her little sitting- room. I was sewing, and she was making out a lista very sllort listof things that she should wish to keep when Water-Eardlev and its con- tents were sold. We had as yet learned no particlllars as to the dis1)osal of the settlement money that had been given up. We had heard enough, however, to be sure that Mr. Whifiless clainl wOlIld not swallow it all. There were, doubtless, other debtsso called, of honor which mother could not reckon up. Debts in 54 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the town there were. But these, we thought, could not possibly amount to more than the sale of the lease and stock and furniture would amply cover. Father owes Matthew Kitchen money, said I, hesitatingly. Yes; hut that can not he much. We have not been buying carriages, at least I said moth- Cr, with a faint smile. Matthews grandfatherold Mr. Green was, I have heard, a money-lender. You re- member that Mr. Cudberry told you so once, mother. Perhaps father was in Mr. Greens (lebt when the old man died. And if soas Matthew ~vas the sole heir Mother looked up at me uneasily. Do you know any thing, Anne ? she asked. I told her, for the first time, of the conversa- tion I had been a witness to hetween my father and Matthew Kitchen. She mused a little, and then said: Matthew is a hard, grasping man. I dont expect much mercy from him. But he can not claim more than his due, and his due can notcan not, surely be so large hut that ~ve shall manage to clear all scores with him. theres the portrait of Georges mother; that lie would like to keep, I kno~v. And I wonder if I might have the work-box he gave me be- tbre we were married! Though it is fitted with silver, it is old-fashioned now, and I should not think it could fetch much. And mother went on with her list. Oh, maam, will you step into the kitchen? Now directly, please! Theres t~vo men wants master, and I told em he was abed, and they said they couldnt help that I Sarah, the house-maid, uttered all this with breathless rapidity, and her pale face added to the impression her agitated speech made upon tis. Mother rose up from her chair like a figure moved by a spring. Who are the men? What do they want ? she said, in a tremhling voice. Oh, maam, I dont know; butI think leastways, Im amost certain, as one on em is a sheriffs officer. I know him by sight. Joe Scott his name is. Andandplease, maam, added Sarah, beginning to cry, partly from sym- path), partly from excitement, they say theyre in possession. CHAPTER XXXIX. I MUST state as briefly and clearly as I can the facts which we only learned piecemeal, and with dismay and confusion of mind indescriba- ble. Indeed, it was long hefore we became acquainted with much that I shall here set down. My father had given a bill of sale over all his property at Water-Eardley to Matthew Kitchen. The latter had worked and schemed to this end for a long time past. Most likely had had some such plan in his mind from the time when he first discovered that my father was, to a cer- tam extent, in old Greens power. The sums that father had borrowedfirst of the old man, and afterward of his grandson, Matthewdid not, when all usurious advantage was taken, amount to more than half the real value of the property at Water-Eardley. Nevertheless, when Matthew Kitchen had not only (leclined to muke further advances, but had pressed for the pay- ment of the existing debts on the ground that he held no sufficient security for his lunacy, and could not afford to run the risk of losing it, father had desperately given the bill of sale; and, still more desperately, had trusted to Mat- thews promise that lie would not put it into execution unless no other hope remained of in- demnifying himself. The news of fathers disastrous racing specu- lation had spread through Horsiugham. It was known that my mothers marriage-settlement had been given up for the payment of her bus- hands gamhling dehts. Moreover, the rumor had spread throughout the town that Furness of Water-Eardley was about to sell his furni- ture and property for the benefit of his credit- ors. The trades-people to whom my father owed money were well satisfied enough with this pros- pect. Not so Mr. Matthew Kitchen. There would doubtless be enough to pay all claims if the property were soldas must be reckoned oneven much under its value. But his bare due did not satisfy Matthew. He held the bill of sale, and resolved to enforce his power while there was yet time. The men who had come on the dismal errand of informing my father that no stick or straw in Water-Eardley manor-house, or on Water-Eard- ley farm, belonged to him any longer, were civil enough. I fancy such men mostly are so. For gratuitous incivility some soit of emotion is necessary malice, angem, resentment, sullen- ness, some feeling or other. These men in the present case had none. The whole matter ~vas to them one of absolute indifference. rIme man whom Sarah had called Joe Scott spoke to my mother with uncovered head and bated breath. It was a show of respect due to misfortune. His business lay with misfortune, as a funeral un- dertakers business lies with death and mourn- ing. Ho~v could he be specially sorry for us? But he understood that a grave and regretful demeanor was decent under the circumstances, and he did his best to assume one. Mother looked about her confusedly, like a person who has been suddenly and roughly roused from sleep. I do not understand it, she said. Could I not speak with Mr. Kitchen? It is impossi- ble that my hushand can owe him the worth of all the property here! Evesy thing? Oh, it must be a mistake! It is impossible No mistake, mnnam. Mm. Kitchen holds a bill of sale, you know. You can say whatever you have a miuid to, to him, maam. Weve nothing to do with that. Only we must carmy otmt our instructions, you kno~v. Ladies mostly ANNE FURNESS. 55 dont understand these things. Youd better let Mr. Furness know as soon as possible, maam. Ycs, dear mother, whispered I in her ear, father ought to be roused without delay. Quite so, miss. In fact, hehe must be told, sooner or later, you know, said Joe Scott. I looked round the kitchen. The two wom- en servants stood helplessly whimpering and biting their fingers. At the open door appeared two oi~ three heads, eagerly looking in. They darted out of sight on my directing my gaze toward them. I had recognized them as be- longing to some of the farm laborers. Is there any one here, said I, who will go to Dr. Hewsons house, Mortlands, and carry a note for me as quickly as possible ? Two voices answered, Me, miss ! and the peeping heads reappeared. The messenger I chose was a cow-boy, a lad of fourteen, swift of foot, as I knew, and acquainted with my grand- fathers house. I scrawled a couple of lines, imploring grandfather to come to us at once, and watched the lad set off with my note at the full speed of his long, uncouth legs. Mother had followed me into the sitting-room, whither I had run to write, and stood there now, with her hands press~d to her forehead. Writing the note and sending it off had taken little more than a couple of minutes. Darling mother, said I, father must he awakened! Shall I do it? Shall I go to him for you? She took her hands from her head quickly, and then passed them once or twice over her brows, pressing down her cLosed eyelids. No, Anne, she said, speaking hurriedly, like one who can not brook an instants delay, and yet not moving from the spot where she stood. No, no, my child! I must do it. I must tell him. He will bear it better from me. I waited an instant or two, expecting to see her go. Finding she still did not move, I again offered to go in her stead. She made two or three quick steps toward the door, and then suddenly stopped, and burst out into silent, bitter weeping. Dearest, darling mother! let me go! I am stronger than you. I will tell father. No, no! she said, trying to restrain her tears, that streamed down her cheeks. It is not that. I will tell him. Butoh, Anne, this will break his heart! Then she went quickly out of the room, and I heard her step ascending the staircase. I stood at the window and looked out on the garden beds that my eyes had rested on so many thousand times. It was a beautiful au- tumn day. The distant woods had a thin veil of silver vapor softening their variegated tints. But overhead the sky was clear, and the sun shone brightly. All was peace and silence. Only the low of cattle came up from the river- side meadows now and then, with a tone by distance made not unmusicaL But to me all was loathsomethe silence as the sound, the sunshine as the shade, the very perfume of the flowers. To a sick palate no savor is delicious; and my soul was sick. All my senses seemed turned into instruments of pain, instead of pleasure. I could not cry; I could do nothing but stand as~ if I had lost all power to move, miserably waiting for mother to return, and feeling sore in ~very nerve. Presently she did return, after an absence which really had been brief, although in pass- ing the minutes had seemed to me almost un- bearably lengthened out. Wh~~t does he say? How did hehow did he bear it, dear ? He said only a word or two; kissed me, and bade me go down to the men and tell them he would be read.y directly. Then he was calmer than you had feared ? He was calm; but oh! there was an awful look in his face. A look almost likelike one insane, added jnother, after a long pause, and in a horrified whisper. And a strong shudder shook her from head to foot. I clasped her tightly in my arms. I could not speak. She had suddenly touched on a secret fear which I had tried to hide even from myself. Without another word she left me, and ~vent to the kitchen to give the men my fathers message; and I remained still standing at the window as before. Whats that ? I found myself uttering the words aloud, in a half whisper, while my heart throbbed with a rapidity that was agonizing. I had been startled by a sound that seemed to make every fibre in my body quiverthe report of a pistol. Something rushed along the passage, and passed the open door. I saw a fluttering gar- ment, and the vision of a white, set face, with wide, staring eyes. It was my mothers face. She flew up the stairs with a swiftness that was awfulsuperhuman. Others followed her quick- ly; but she outstripped them as a winged creat- ure might. There was a seconds pause, and thenoh, my God! the agony of that sound! Shriek upon shriek pierced the ear, like stab upon stab of a sharp, cruel sword. I mounted the stairs in a sort of frenzy, unconscious of my footsteps, as if a great wind had taken me and whirled me upward. There was a crowd of people in the room al- readythe servants, some of the farm laborers, and the two who had come on Matthew Kitch- en s errand. I could not see my mother, but those dreadful shrieks continued. Two or three women had gathered about her; the others sur- rounded the bed. When they became aware that I was among them some of the men cried out to me to go away, that was no place for me. The man named Scott even took me by the arm to lead me from the room, but I struggled and resisted. Mother! mother! Let me go to mother! I remember crying out those words over and over again. I was trembling so convulsively 56 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. - that my teeth chattered in my head; but I still struggled to reach my mother. In the move- ment thus caused among them the herd of peo- ple round the bed parted, and I saw No; even now I can not write it; I can not think of it. My hand is cold; my fingers quiv- er. All the anguish comes back again; all ~he old scars throb and ache. I see my mothers form flung, with wild hair, across the bed~the women struggling to raise her, to drag her back her~clinched hands clutching at the coverlet. I see an awful stain slowly spreading, creeping, winding horribly along the floor. I see a ghastly heap upon the bed; then all is red before my eyes; my ears are full of a roaring sound like the surging of the sea; the ground rocks and heaves and sinks from under me, and I plunge down, down into a black gulf of unconsciousness! A BOHEMJAN HOUSEHOLD. THE hour of two P.M., and aJl was still as the grave at 219! Suddenly a tall, athletic figure stole on tip- toe from the kitchen staircase, crossed the cor- ridor, and halted at the closed oaken door op- posite. Then a heavy bullet-head, surrounded with a mop of frowzy hair, bent to the key-hole. Maam! said Bridget, in a stentorian whisper. ~Not a sound within. Maam ! said Bridget, a little louder. No answer. A flaming color slowly ascended from the nape of Bridgets neck to her forehead, and a few emphatic monosyllables escaped from her lips. By an immense effort the descendant of the OHaras governed her temper. Stooping she picked up from the hall a jagged hair-pin. In- serting this in the key-hole she drew it to and fro with a lour~ rasping sound. Once in a while she varied the monotony of this ear-torture by scraping on the panels of the door with her nails. In about five minutesthere was heard a groan. Be gorra, said Bridget, I thought Id fetch her ; and kept on with her music. A louder, more agonizing groan, a rustle of drapery, and a decided step across the floor. Imbecile wretch! said the voice of a wom- an, what is it you desire ? Cant ye open the door? said Bridget. Not the seventieth part of an inch, replied the voice. How dare you come jabbering to me at this hour of the day? Get away as quick- ly as you can. If youd only open the door on a crack, maam, it d be all Id ask. Its mighty incon- vanient talkin through a dale boord; it takes the heart out o me, maam, it does indade; and Im just bate outintirely. Come, honey, open the doortheies a jewel ! The key creaked in the key-hole; the door opened an inch. Speak, then; speak quickly, said the voice, and begone ! I wouldnt bother ye for the world, honey, if it wasnt that Ive the greatest bargain on hand, and if I wait till the night Im sore afraid Ill lose it. Sure, Miss Polly, Im drnv to death! Theres nothin left o me but skin an bone, and here roun the corner theres a jewel to be had for the askin. Oh, Miss Polly, if ye could only know how the jints o me knees and the very toes o me ache wid the scrubbin and delvin from mornin till night; an for three and sixpence a dayjust think of ittheres help to be had! Splendid help! A full-grown craythur, able to fetch and to carry, from morn- in till night. Thank God I aint partikler about his hide so long as hell work chape! A negro ? said the voice. Be gorra its worse, said Bridget. Its a yellow haythen nagur, wid eyes like slits in his Lead, an ye could hang a gridiron on aich of his cheek-bones; an divil a name has the blackguard but just Changonly that, as Im a Christian ! A Chinese! I wouldnt care the toss of a pin if it was the divil himself, so long as hed come for three and sixpence a day! The door opened an inch further, the voice softened a little. Im afraid hell be a nuisance, Bridget. We cant have any Peeping Toms about, bab- bling the affairs of the household. Suppose he should talk to the neighbors! Talk, is it! He hasnt got a word in his cheek, I tell ye. Hes a haythen, a savage! Thats the beauty of him! Do ye think, now, if he could talk hed come for three and six- pence a day ? But how can he be of service then, Biddy? Niver ye mind about that, honey. Only say I can have him, an be gorra if he aint of sarvice it wont be your fault, nor mine naythum. He can scrub and wash as like a hnuan cray- thur as yed care to see. An if we dont get him well lose a jewel, Miss Polly. The door closed an inch. Do as you like, Bridget; only let me alone. But, remember, watch him well. Divil a fear, maam; hes as innocent as a baby. Then I may take him at three and six- pence a day? The door closed, the key turned again in the key-hole. At three and sixpence a day ? whispered Bridget, hoarsely. No answer. Bridget muttered another emphatic mono- syllable under her breath, and went down the kitchen stairs. The next day Chang became one of the household at 219. On that very morning Solomon Savage start- ed in the early stage for the city. His nephew and heir had caused him a deal of anxiety late ly. He had purchased his place in the country to suit Freds romantic taste. He had given up his comfortable quarters up-town, his early

56 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. - that my teeth chattered in my head; but I still struggled to reach my mother. In the move- ment thus caused among them the herd of peo- ple round the bed parted, and I saw No; even now I can not write it; I can not think of it. My hand is cold; my fingers quiv- er. All the anguish comes back again; all ~he old scars throb and ache. I see my mothers form flung, with wild hair, across the bed~the women struggling to raise her, to drag her back her~clinched hands clutching at the coverlet. I see an awful stain slowly spreading, creeping, winding horribly along the floor. I see a ghastly heap upon the bed; then all is red before my eyes; my ears are full of a roaring sound like the surging of the sea; the ground rocks and heaves and sinks from under me, and I plunge down, down into a black gulf of unconsciousness! A BOHEMJAN HOUSEHOLD. THE hour of two P.M., and aJl was still as the grave at 219! Suddenly a tall, athletic figure stole on tip- toe from the kitchen staircase, crossed the cor- ridor, and halted at the closed oaken door op- posite. Then a heavy bullet-head, surrounded with a mop of frowzy hair, bent to the key-hole. Maam! said Bridget, in a stentorian whisper. ~Not a sound within. Maam ! said Bridget, a little louder. No answer. A flaming color slowly ascended from the nape of Bridgets neck to her forehead, and a few emphatic monosyllables escaped from her lips. By an immense effort the descendant of the OHaras governed her temper. Stooping she picked up from the hall a jagged hair-pin. In- serting this in the key-hole she drew it to and fro with a lour~ rasping sound. Once in a while she varied the monotony of this ear-torture by scraping on the panels of the door with her nails. In about five minutesthere was heard a groan. Be gorra, said Bridget, I thought Id fetch her ; and kept on with her music. A louder, more agonizing groan, a rustle of drapery, and a decided step across the floor. Imbecile wretch! said the voice of a wom- an, what is it you desire ? Cant ye open the door? said Bridget. Not the seventieth part of an inch, replied the voice. How dare you come jabbering to me at this hour of the day? Get away as quick- ly as you can. If youd only open the door on a crack, maam, it d be all Id ask. Its mighty incon- vanient talkin through a dale boord; it takes the heart out o me, maam, it does indade; and Im just bate outintirely. Come, honey, open the doortheies a jewel ! The key creaked in the key-hole; the door opened an inch. Speak, then; speak quickly, said the voice, and begone ! I wouldnt bother ye for the world, honey, if it wasnt that Ive the greatest bargain on hand, and if I wait till the night Im sore afraid Ill lose it. Sure, Miss Polly, Im drnv to death! Theres nothin left o me but skin an bone, and here roun the corner theres a jewel to be had for the askin. Oh, Miss Polly, if ye could only know how the jints o me knees and the very toes o me ache wid the scrubbin and delvin from mornin till night; an for three and sixpence a dayjust think of ittheres help to be had! Splendid help! A full-grown craythur, able to fetch and to carry, from morn- in till night. Thank God I aint partikler about his hide so long as hell work chape! A negro ? said the voice. Be gorra its worse, said Bridget. Its a yellow haythen nagur, wid eyes like slits in his Lead, an ye could hang a gridiron on aich of his cheek-bones; an divil a name has the blackguard but just Changonly that, as Im a Christian ! A Chinese! I wouldnt care the toss of a pin if it was the divil himself, so long as hed come for three and sixpence a day! The door opened an inch further, the voice softened a little. Im afraid hell be a nuisance, Bridget. We cant have any Peeping Toms about, bab- bling the affairs of the household. Suppose he should talk to the neighbors! Talk, is it! He hasnt got a word in his cheek, I tell ye. Hes a haythen, a savage! Thats the beauty of him! Do ye think, now, if he could talk hed come for three and six- pence a day ? But how can he be of service then, Biddy? Niver ye mind about that, honey. Only say I can have him, an be gorra if he aint of sarvice it wont be your fault, nor mine naythum. He can scrub and wash as like a hnuan cray- thur as yed care to see. An if we dont get him well lose a jewel, Miss Polly. The door closed an inch. Do as you like, Bridget; only let me alone. But, remember, watch him well. Divil a fear, maam; hes as innocent as a baby. Then I may take him at three and six- pence a day? The door closed, the key turned again in the key-hole. At three and sixpence a day ? whispered Bridget, hoarsely. No answer. Bridget muttered another emphatic mono- syllable under her breath, and went down the kitchen stairs. The next day Chang became one of the household at 219. On that very morning Solomon Savage start- ed in the early stage for the city. His nephew and heir had caused him a deal of anxiety late ly. He had purchased his place in the country to suit Freds romantic taste. He had given up his comfortable quarters up-town, his early A BOHEMIAN HOUSEHOLD. 57 newspaper, his social chat at the club, his peep at the new pictures, his opening nights at the comedies; had been content to settle down for the rest of his days among these lakes and mountains, just to please Fred. Because, be- sides being his nephew and heir, Fred was the only child of his dead sister, and his uncles idol. And now Fred wouldnt be content in the country for a week at a time ;.he was alway~ coining excuses to go to the city, and.the house was like a tomb without him. He was dreamy and abstracted. Something was the matter with the lad, and this something was connected with these altogether uncalled-for raids upon the city. Mr. Savage wrote to his lawyer to find out the mystery, and got this reply: Solomon Savage, Esq.: DEAR Sui,Your nephew spends the most of his time at No. 219 Blank Street. Cant tell much ahout the house or its inmates. Should suppose they were a queer set, Yours respectfully, JosEPa FERRET. Queer! What could the man mean by queer ? Mr. Savage, becoming thoroughly alarmed, determined upon solving the mystery himself. All the way down in the stage and jolting along in the cars Mr. Savage repeated to himself the word queer. At about the hour of two P.M. an old gentle- man might have been seen walking down Blank Street. He wore a shining suit of hroadcloth, a broad-brimmed white hat, linen of the finest material elaborately ruffled, unexceptionable boots and gloves, tortoise-shell eyeglasses, aud carried a gold-headed cane. His face wore an expression of mild benignity. Good-nature beamed from his blue eves, good health from his smooth, florid skin; good family from the arch in his nose and his foot, and good spirits from the merry crows-feet about every comfort- able wrinkle. Altogether he was about as win- ning-looking an old gentleman as one would care to see. He walked slowly, scrutinizing as he went the street and the passers-by. At last he came to 2i9one of those old mansions on the east side of town that wear so ponderous, so substantial, so spacious a look, and yet from which all glory has departed. 219 had the appearance of possessing at one time a romantic history, but that time had long gone by. Now it might be an infirmary, a boarding- house, or a private asylum. Still the street was broad, houses and shops seemed commonplace enough, nothing queer that he could see. The old gentleman walked slowly up the steps; his color rose a little, but his face wore a look of determination, such as a soldier wears enter- ing action. He took from his pocket a heavy silver card-case, and pulled gently the bell- handle. No answer. Five minutes passed, and he pulled again; this time a little less gently. Then he waited. Five minutes more passed, and the shaggy white eyebrows of the old gentleman drew close together; his florid face reddened impatiently; he pulled the bell roughly; a loud peal resound- ed sepulchrally through the lower regions of the house. Presently a shuffling step approached the door, a heavy bolt shot back, there was heard the clanking of a chain. The door opened an inch and a half; a broad, flat nose, the tip of a frowzy head, appeared; a capacious mouth opened. . What is it ye want ? it said. The old gentleman looked disapprovingly at this apparition, and extended a card from the silver card-case. The card was sniffed at curiously. What is it ye want ? was repeated. Give that card to your master, and tell I wouldnt for a hundred pound go near the masther; it d be as much as my life was worth Give that card to your mistress, and tell Bother the card! Tell me your business, and Ill see to it. My dear woman, said the old gentleman, benignly, my business is not with the servants of the household. At the same time Mr. Sav- age extended a gold piece, as a sop to this ob.. durate Cerberus. Then git along to the divil wid your cards and your money, an dont be takin up peoples time wid yer chat! The door closed heavily within an inch of the old gentlemans nose. He remained, thun- der-struck, upon the sill. He looked about him appealingly; then he slowly descended the steps. His face lost its look of mild benignity, a gleam of anger darted from his blue eyes, the crows-feet took a fierce expression. Loudly resounded his gold-headed cane upon the pave- ment. Plainly the old gentleman felt himself insulted. It was hard. His appearance was certain. ly calculated to win respect; but the noble blood of the OHaras was at that time hot with rage. She had been cheated six ounces in the meat. If St. Patrick himself had appeared at the door he would have met with a grim recep- tion. Be careful of the door, she said, five min- utes after, to her Chinese confrere, an dont for your life let a soul near the house! Im goin to that baste of a butchers, an Ill be back in a jiffy. Chang looked up mildly from his work. He was moppingthe kitchenmopping it in a way that delighted the breast of Bridget OHara. Go on wid yer work, man, she said, and dont stir from the kitchen whilst Im gone 1 Chang smiled vacantly. The divil take the haythen! he dont hear a word I say, said Bridget; but hes safe to lave here for a minit or two. There niver was such savin in soap and slop before in the house. What a jewel he is, to be sure, at three and sixpence a day! Be gorra, if he was a Chris- tian I couldnt be fonder of him! Other folks 58 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. can have their petsIm sure if theres a divil born its Toffyand why shouldnt I have mine? Go on, me boy, she said, absolutely patting his pigtail; youre doin finely, me man ! And off went Bridget to the butchers. Now as she crossed the corner an old gentle man saw her from the opposite side of the way. He started. That bullet-head, that broad, fiat nose and capacious mouth, were familiar to him. Was it possible the abusive Cerberus had left her post? Swiftly he retraced his steps; quickly he reached 219. Again he as- cended the steps, rang the bell, and waited. Rang again, and waitedand again. Fiercely, loudly, desperately he tugged at the bell. No answer. Heavens and earth! what kind of people lived here? Was it a deaf and dumb asylum? With one last, despairing pull he descended the steps. Defeat was in his downcast look, despair was in his slow footfall. This house was absolutely, then, denied him. There was no getting in for love nor money. But as he passed the basement window, dejectedly, he saw a face that attracted his attention. It was yellow and melancholy and mild-eyed. The cheek-bones were high, the eyes were long and narrow. The fingers that rested upon the win- dow-sill had nails of a prodigious length, hut scrupulously clean. There was neatness about the creature, and humility. His pigtail was nicely braided, and put up out of the dust in a round ball on the top of his head. Mr. Savage went down the area steps, and looked in the window, smiling benignantly. Chang also smiled. Mr. Savage smiled still more benignantly, and pointed to the area door. Chang smiled, but seemed not to understand this pantomime. Mr. Savage walked to the door, and knocked gently, looking at the win- dow appealingly. He waited there a while, and knocked again. The door remaining closed, he returned to the window. Chang was there, still smiling blandly, but vacantly. Mr. Sav- age said one word in a low tone. He was sel- dom, if ever, profanehe consideDed it a vul- garitybut the word certainly sounded like profanity. Cant get in, he said, for love nor money! Suddenly it occurred to him that he had not shown his bit of gold to Chang. It was the color of his skineven of the balls of his eyes; it might please him somehow. He took it from his pocket, and held it out to Chang in- vitingly. Chang looked at it curiously, as if he never before had seen any thing like it. Then he extended his long-nailed fingers to- ward it. Finding the pane of glass between them, he drew back reluctantly. Mr. Savage pointed to the door, coaxingly, as he would to a child. Chang looked in the direction of the door, and smiled innocently. Mr. Savage went to the door, and knocked very gently. Chang followed softly, mechanically unloosed the chain, and, as Mr. Savage passed into the hall, he looked after him abstractedly, holding the bit of gold in his long, slim hand. Poor fel- low! said Mr. Savage, its almost a shame to take advantage of such simplicity. As Mr. Savage went softly up the kitchen stairs, Chang put his plaything under his pig- tail, relocked the door, and commenced polish- ing the tins. When Bridget returned they shone marvel- ously, so that she could see herself in every inch of the dish-pan. Och, ye jewel! she said, again patting his pigtail. How chape ye are at three and six- pence a day 1 Chang turned a yellow-white when she touch.: ed his pigtail. The Chinese have a reverence for this portion of their toilet that perhaps Christians do not understand. In the menu time Mr. Savage had reached the wide corridor that extended the whole length of the house. A circular staircase was before him, at the top of which beamed a strong light. Upon one of the uppermost balusters, in the full radiance of this light, there was a black object. It was not a cat nor a dog. What was it? A chicken? a jet black chick- en? No; for two fierce black eyes shone furi- ously down upon him with more intelligence and malignity than ever gleamed in the eyes of a chicken. The house was frightfully still. On either side of the corridor heavy oaken doors remained hopelessly closed. Mr. Savage paused and looked up again, fascinated by those fierce black eyes. Suddenly he heard a groan. It came from the room on the left. Then a low, sobbing sound, and a heavy fall. The old gentleman stepped hastily forward, the blood freezing in his veins. Murdered! Dead! cried a womans voice. And I alive! Mr. Savage paused at the heavy oaken door paused, and collected his ~vits. Oh, misery I repeated the agonized voice of a woman. Murdered! Dead! And I alive ! Mr. Savage remembered that he was alone and unarmed, and prudently stepped into a neighboring closet. Almost closing the door, he remained perfectly still. Evidently there was foul play in this house, and he could do nothing, situated as he was, but listen and wait. Besides, the crime was committed. There could be no help rendered now. The sobbing continued, and at intervals he heard the heart-rending complaint of the wo- man: Murdered! Dead! And I alive ! It might have been a quarter of an hour that this continued; and whenever Mr. Savage looked up he found the eyes peering curiously and savagely down. Then the door on the right opened, and he heard the silken rustle of a womans drapery. There passed close by himso close that he inhaled a delicate, sweet perfumea woman of thirty or thereabout: a blonde, with pale yellow hair dra~vn back from A BOHEMIAN HOUSEHOLD. 59 her forehead, eyes of a deep lustrous violet, a small sensitive mouth, and beautiful chin. Her hands were white and slim, the nails rosy and marvelously shaped. Mr. Savage noticed the hands particularly, for she clasped and un- clasped them with a movement of sorrow or agony. She stopped at the door on the left and tapped softly. Estelle! she said; let me in for a mo- ment. A light footstep approached the doorit opened, and the woman entered, leaving it ajar. Estelle, she said, in a tone of grief and excitement, I have killed him! Estelle, the deed is done; but oh! oh! how sorry I am. It seems to me that I shall never get over the sacrilege of it. Oh, it was fearful! It was too, too pitiful! Dear aunt, replied a girlish voice dear Folly, dont think of it in such a light! It had to be, you knowwe needed the money so much ! But you dont know, Estelleyon cant tell how wretchedly I feel about it. I was so fond of himI had just begun to be so interested in him. And I too, Folly. I did admire him so much ! And I could have managed it, Estelle. If I had only had time I could have let him live! But I was compelled to do it immediately, and now he is dead! Let me go back, Estelle; I must be aloneI am heart-brokeu! Dear auntdear Folly, I am so sorry for you ! The drapery rustled by the closet again, the sweet perfume fell under his nostrils, the door on the right closed, and Mr. Savage remained terror-stricken, bewildered. Before he could even collect his faculties the voice of the girl in the room on the left was heard again: Murdered! Dead! And I alive! Mr. Savage felt cold to the marrow of his bones. What crime had been committed by these two delicate women ?these creatures, whose nearness was to him a charm in spite of himself. Whom had this pale, passionate blonde killed, and whom did this girlish Estelle lament so pitiably? A question shaped itself in his mind, but faltered on his lips. The one word, Fred, escaped them. Then he sank back, livid and trembling, in his closet. Fred was young and lovable and interesting. Fred had money, a watch, diamond pin and studs. Great Heaven! could such a thing be possible? Fer- ret, the lawyer, had said this was the only house Fred frequented, and the inmates were a queer set. Ah, the word queer was too mild! As Mr. Savage leaned back in his closet, plunged in this painful reverie, a door open- ed on the upper floor; he raised his eyes, and there, by the side of the malignant creature with the black eyes, stood a man! A loose dressing-gown hung about him in awkward folds, a scarlet cap rested on the back of his head, from under which a mop of reddish hair fell almost to his shoulders. His face was flaming red, even to the tip of his nose, and across his cheek was a deeper staina smear that was crimson, yes, blood-red! Folly, shouted this new apparition, Fol- ly, Folly, pretty Foll Caw! cried the discordant voice of the bird by his side. Shut up, Mephistopheles ! said the man, Folly, Folly! Caw, caw ! cried the bird. If you dont shut up, Toffy, Ill wring your neck.Folly! Come, Folly, come! why drive me to necessity? Come, I tell you! Foll-e-e-e! Now, Folly, he continued to shout, if you dont come out, Ill commence to count! Folly, will you ?one. Folly, will you ?two. Folly, will you ?three! Crash, bang, came an immense billet of wood bumping down the stairs! The door on the right opened, the blonde ap- peared on the threshold. No longer paletwo angry spots burned on either cheek. Idiot! she said, in a voice of suppressed rage. Wretch of infamy, what do you want ? Loveliest and best, he cried, leaning over the balusters, I want a leg Youll find one in your room there. Folly, beloved, dont bring me the leg of a boy this timeone of a man, sweetest, muscular and well formed ! Its just like your carelessness, leaving them lying about in that way! Theyre all rotting away, and the rats have been nibbling them ! Never mind, charmer; theres plenty more where they came from ! Shiftless imbecile! Heaven knows what will be the result of your criminal carelessness. If I coined my very hearts blood into money it would all go the same way ! Folly disappeared for a moment, and soon went up the stairs with a burden that struck a chill to the bones of Mr. Savage. What, then, was this sanguinary monster? A devourer of human legs! Gracious Heavens! perhaps this new dainty was the leg of his beloved Fred. And these two women pitied and deplored, hated and abhorred, this horrible infirmity, but fed it unscrupulously. A cold sweat burst from the pores of the horrified Mr. Savage. He felt like Fatima in the fatal closet of Blue Beard. Dearly had he paid for his curiosity. Almost a groan burst from his lips. This, then, was the burden that had rested on Freds mind. Lured to this fearful den, fascinated and iuthralled by these women, he had fallen a prey to their in- famous wiles, and now perhaps he was foully murdered, his poor bones nibbled by noxious reptiles. Mr. Savage clinched his teeth to keep silence. He resolved upon an immediate re- treat, but determined to return with a corps of police. These crimes should be known and avenged. But upon stepping forward he found, almost under his feet, Mephistopheles, the cro~v! Caw! cried the creature, and Mr. Savage started with dismay. Caw, caw, caw 60 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Mr. Savage endeavored to thrust the bird aside, but it ruffled its feathers, hopped up and down, and screeched defiantly. The divil seize the black baste, said Bridg- et from the kitchen. Whats the matther with him now Caw, caw, caw! screamed the bird, loud- er than ever. Toffy, silence there ! shouted the monster from the upper floor. Caw, caw I shrieked Mephistopheles, dash- ing himself against the closet door. Polly appeared from her room, pale again and composed. What is it, Mephistopheles ? she said, ma- jestically. Poor Toffy ! said the musical voice of Es- telle; whats the matter with poor Toffy ? Caw, caw! screamed the crow, becoming more and more furious and excited. Ill tell you what, said the monster from above, theres somebody in that closet. Such a sudden scuttling of petticoats then took place as was wonderful to see. Polly re- treated to her door-way, Estelle fairly barred herself in, and Bridget remained on the kitchen stair-way. If it aint a ghost Ill tackle it, said Bridg- et; but Ive known for this many a day that Toffy was a divil; and, be gorra, it might be the ould gintleman himself come afther him! If youre not cowardly as well as lazy, said Polly to the monster, youll come down and see. Then a heavy, lounging step was heard on the stairs, and down came the sanguinary vil- lain. Mr. Savage knew then that his time was come. In a moment a sad retrospection oc- cupied his mind, as it will that of a drowning man. He even thought of his legs, and for the first time in his life regretted that they were more than ordinarily well-shaped and muscular for one of his years. Having breathed one short prayer, Mr. Savage opened the door, and confronted his adversaries. Murderers, he said, do your worst! Add my poor body to the rest of your victims. My nephew has already fallen a prey to your infamy. I am but an old man, and do not dread to follow him! Mr. Savage folded his arms, and looked about him with grim defiance. Surprise and conster- nation fell upon the group of listeners. The sanguinary monster cast a look upon Polly sig- nificant and suggestive. He whispered some- thing behind his hand. Poor old man ! said Polly; hes so hand- some and so becomingly dressed. Im so sorry for him, Tom. Ah, madam, said Mr. Savage, since you have commenced to pity me, I know what I may expect. Even thus you deplored the fate of your last victim. He was young and lovable, but you killed him, nevertheless What 11 we do with him ? said Tom. How did the craythur get in ? said Bridg- et. lie was at the door this morning, but I put him away wid a flea in his ear. Shall I let him go, Poll ? said Tom. Ah no; lets keep him for a while, and see what we can do with him, said Polly; and ac- cordingly Tom sprang suddenly forward, and opening the door of a little room, thrust Mr. Savage in, and locked the door upon the out- side. Five minutes after the house was as still as ever. Mr. Savage gave himself up for lost. This, then, was one of those dens of crime and horror at which the world grew pale. He did not dare look at the walls of his prison, fearing they would narrow about him. He feared to take a step forward, feeling certain that the carpet concealed a trap-door. How would they kill him? he wondered. One thing was certain theyd manage it skillfully to save his legs. Gracious Heavens! was he, then, to die? The old gentleman raised the hat from his head and wiped the perspiration from his fore- head. His knees trembled beneath him. And yet he ~vas not a coward. If it had been the will of heaven that he should die an open, commonplace death, he could have met it like a manas one who has no crime upon his con- science. But to be caught in this horrible trap and butchered! The, thought was terri- ble! Every moment the love of life grew stronger within him. He looked about him despairingly. Then he listened attentively. He thougbt he heard a peculiar step. It was low and shuffling; not only these, but soft and dragging; it was the step of Chang. The features of Mr. Savage immediately lost their terrified expression, a gleam of hope shone in his face. He took from his pocket a piece of gold and thrust it beneath the door, just far enough to be perceptible without being avail- able. But the step of Chang went on. The heart of Mr. Savage sank within him. His gold was exhausted, and he feared a greenback wouldnt seem like a toy in the eyes of the Chinese. Nevertheless, he placed a five-dollar greenback by the side of the gold piece. Chang opened the front-door and commenced polishing the knobs. Once in a while he looked at the pretty gold piece and the funny paper with pictures on it under the door by his side. Then he gazed abstractedly about him with his mild, melancholy eyes. The spacious corridor was dark and still. Chang walked slowly to the room that contained Mr. Savage. Innocently he turned the key in the lock. Oat darted poor Mr. Savageout the door and down the street. Chang picked up the play- things from under his feet and shut the door of the room. He seemed to like the paper with funny pictures on it almost as well as he did the gold piece. He put them both under his pigtail, and went on polishing the knobs. How they did shine when Bridget came up th~ stairs! Och, ye darlint! More power to your A BOHEMIAN HOUSEHOLD. 61 elbow ! she said, and again patted his pigtail approvingly. And again did the poor savage shrink from this familiarity. Out darted poor Mr. Savage, breathlessly, wildly. His gray hairs streamed behind him. His eyes wore a strained, enger expression. People gazed upon him wonderingly. At last he reached Freds lodgings. Stumbling up the stairs, when he reached the landing he saw a light in the front-room. His heart com- menced to beat wildly. Who lighted the gas? Surely not his boy, his beloved lad! If he was yet aliveif they had both escaped! He stag- gered forward, opened the door, and saw Fred sitting in his arm-chair, his feet on the window- sill, smoking his meerschaum! The poor old gentleman fell upon his nephews neck and sobbed outright. My boy! my dear lad ! he cried. Alive and well! Freds meerschaum fell to the ground, and broke in pieces on the floor. He got upon his feet, still with his uncles arms about him. Why, uncle ! he said; Uncle Sol! what can be the matter ? Oh, Fred, my boy! gasped the old gentle- man. Such an escape! Thank God, we are both alive and well! Such an escape ! A railroad accident ? said Fred, forcing his uncle into the arm-chair, and taking his hat and gloves~ Worse than that, Fred; far worse. A garroter ? Fred asked, taking off his uncles boots, and loosening his neck-tie. Worse, oh, much worse ! gasped the old gentleman. But what brought you to town ? said Fred, mixing for his uncle a glass of brandy- and-water. Ah ! sighed Mr. Savage; its a long story, Fred. Bjit you shall hear it all, my boy. If you had only been as candid with me as I s~hall be with von, [should not have seen this terrible day. But I wont complain; since you are saved, I wont complain. Mr. Savage paused, and looked at his neph- ew. Certainly Fred was exceedingly handsome. As he stood there, flushed and expectant, he looked like a young Apollo. Mr. Savage look- ed upon him, and took a long breath of relief. Ho~v did he ever escape with such legs? he thought. There was altogether an appetizing look about his nephew that would have tempt- ed a cannibal. What do you think of a monster that de- vours human legs ? said Mr. Savage. Fred started, and looked at his uncle in amazement. And a pale, yellow - haired woman that murders people, and gets broken-hearted with remorse Fred grew pale, and still stared at his uncle. And a girl with a voice like an angel, that shrieks about somebody being murdered, and leaving her aliveand a devil inside of a bird for a watch-dogand a room with a trap-door? My God! said Fred, in a whisper, hes gone mad. No, said Mr. Savage, I aint mad, al- though Ive had enough to make me so. Do you doubt the existence of all these things? Go to 219 Blank Street, and youll find them. When his uncle mentioned this number and this street, Freds face shone with a sudden light; a~color flamed into his check. 219, he repeated, softly. Yes, 219, replied his uncle. Ive been there to-day. You ! cried Fred. And why did you go there? and how did you get in ? Now these were embarrassing questions. Mr. Savage was compelled then to own that he had played the spy. It had a nasty sound about it that jarred upon the old gentleman grievously. But did not the end in this case justify the means? At all events, the story must be told. And told it was, thoroughly and graphically. Mr. Savage, having drunk his brandy- and-water, resting in comfortable security in his arm-chair, with Fred for an auditor, entered into the spir- it of the narrative. He described the frowzy Cerberus, the innocent and child-like Chang, the pale, lustrous-eyed Polly, the musical-voiced Estelle, the diabolical Mephistopheles, and the sanguinary Tom. The old gentleman was so taken up with his story that he failed to notice its effect upon Fred. At first his nephew was inclined to laugh, then to be grave, and at last an expres- sion of vexed perplexity rested upon his face. His uncle waxed impatient with his contin- ued silence. Do you mean to say, Sir, he cried, t that you are indifferent to the horrors I have de- scribed? Can you listen unmoved to scenes like these going on in the heart of a Christian community? What do you mean, Fred, by staring in that stupid way? Havent you been listening to me Ye-es, Sir, stammered Fred, collecting his faculties. II am so horrified that I dont know what to say or do. IId like to think it over, Sir. Would you mind, Uncle Sol, if I went out for a little walk ? Now, Fred, my boy, said his uncle, quite satisfied with his nephews emotion, dont let the matter excite you too much. By the prov- idence of God and the guileless simplicity of that Chinese, I have escaped, probably, a fear- ful death. Heaven knows what crimes have been committed in that house, or how deep the cellars may be with human gore and the hones of their victims! But, to-morrow the whole matter shall be thoroughly investigated. To- night I must striveto restore repose to my shat- tered nerves. Of course, my boy, go out for a walk; the air will do you good. But return early and get to bed, so that we shall be pre- pared for the morning. As for me, I shall get to bed immediately. Mr. Savage went to bed, and, what with ex 62 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. citement, fatigue, and brandy-and-water, soon snored lustily. Fred made an elaborate toilet, and then went out. He walked rapidly across town, and reaching Street, stopped at 219. One would scarcely have known the house for the gloomy and repelling mansion of the morn- ing. Lights gleamed from the windows; sounds of revelry and mirth were beard from the first story; the great hall door was opened wide, leaving the pretty little vestibule, with its lace and_curtains, the inviting portal. Fred ran lightly up the steps, and through the vestibule, pausing for a moment at the door of the room on the right. A girlish laugh fell upon his ear, and in a moment a flush of emo- tion sprang into his face. Then he entered. The scene before him was alluring. A lofty room, brilliantly lighted, warmly car- peted, tastefully furnished. In its centre a din- ing-table, upon which, the heavier articles being removed, there rested a dainty repast of fruits and pastries. At one corner gleamed a de- canter of wine and some half-filled glasses. At this table sat two charming women and a man, One of the womena blonde, with lustrous eyes of a deep violet, pale, high brow, and hair of a faint golden colorwent over to Fred, and put out to him a charming hand. The man, of per- haps thirty-five, in a negligent toilet of drab pants and vest, brown velvet coat, and flowing neckerchief; raised high his glass of wine. LA. la bonne heure!, he cried. Dinner is over, but Bridget shall fetch you in a plate. The other woman, a girl of perhaps twenty, with eyes like stars, a warm olive skin, and hair falling in thick curls upon a beautiful neck, scarcely arose from her chair; but her eyes were full of a tender and questioning interest. Come, Fred, said Tom, have a glass of wine. No, said Fred, averting his eyes from the beautiful brunette, ~vhile a hot flush leaped into his cheek. Before I ever touch my lips to a morsel in this house again I must have an ex- planation! Nobody is fonder of a joke than I am. The untrammeled freedom of our lives here has been very pleasant to me; but there is a limit to every thing. The dearest person in the world to me, except one, has been ex- posed to the most agonizing terror and wanton insult in this house to-day. To amuse an idle moment, you have condescended to torture the kindest, the best creature in the world. Hold there! said Tom. Those are hard words. What the deuce do you mean? Be kind enough to explain as you go along. I have only to say that the old gentleman for whose benefit the comedy was enacted here to-day at two oclock was my uncle. Tom looked at Folly, Polly looked at Estelle. I cant make him out, said Tom. What does he mean Do you deny, then, said Fred, that at two oclock to day you put on an old dressing- gown and scarlet cap, smeared a streak of red paint over your face, and, throwing a billet of wood down the stairs, called for the leg of a man, well-formed and muscular ? Tom reddened a little. Of course I dont, he said. I was in a confounded hurry finishing a picture, and I wanted a model. The legs were in Follys room, and when shes writing you might as well try to arouse the dead. As for my toilet, youll allow me to choose that for myself; I suppose. A mans house is his castle. But how about Folly and Estelle ? said Fred, his voice softening. Why in the world did Folly declare to Estelle that she had mur- dered a man, and was heart-broken about it ? Oh, Fred, you goose! said Folly. I was in the very height of my novel, when they de- clared I must kill my hero to make an effect. Just fancy how wretchedly I felt about it! I only went in where Estelle was studying her part to get a little consolation from her. Estelle started; a look of half amusement and half vexation stole over her face. You dont mean to say, Fred, you heard me practicing for the rehearsal to-morrow ? I didnt, said Fred; but my uncle did! He was in the closet yonder! The insane gentleman ! burst from the lips of the three. We thought he was a lu- natic, and shut him up in the room until we could make some inquiries about him. Half an hour after he was gone! Ho* the deuce did he get out ? rhen it was not a joke upon the old gen- tleman? I thought you couldnt be capable of such cruelty. I beg your pardon, Tom; you know I never intrude upon you in the middle of the day, and I thought you had got the whole thing up as a joke! A joke! repeated Tom. By Jove! he frightened us as much as we did him. We thought he was a maniac. How the deuce did he get out? How did he get in ? said Folly. sure- ly Bridget did not No, indeed, said Fred; she even refused a five-dollar gold piece; you must have hired something new in the way of a servant. Mv uncle described a mild-eyed melancholy creat- ure, with a yellow skin, and long, narrow eyes Ah ! said Folly. With an innocent, abstracted gaze, and a smile that was Child-like and bland, said Tom. Exactly, said Fred. He didnt seem to know the nature of gold except as a plaything; hut when he opened the door to see what it was my uncle slipped in Oh, Folly, Folly ! sighed Tom, sinking hack in his chair. Biddy wanted him so much, Tom, said Folly; only three and sixpence a day, dear! Ruined by Chinese cheap labor! murmur- ed Tom. And although, pursued Fred, my un- cles gold was exhausted when you had secured A BOHEMIAN HOUSEHOLD. 63 him in the room, the creature seemed to like the pictures on a greenback just as well. While he was admiring one of them my uncle slipped out. That heathen Chinee! sighed Tom. He came to my lodgings more dead than alive. Poor old boy! How the deuce did you manage it? I didnt manage it at all; I thought first Id come down here and see you. I dont suppose hell take to us now, said Tom. Im afraid its all up with you and Estelle. If I thought that, said Fred, Id go out and shoot myself! Estelle moved a little nearer to him, and put her hand softly upon his, as it lay on the table. Fred grasped it fervently. Youll be faithful to me, he said; faithful and fond, even if my uncle does prove a little obdurate ? Of course she will, said Polly. Come, Fred, cheer up. Tom, dont get stupid! Wheres the use in ha.ving genius if we cant tide over a little scrape of this kind? Come: lets consult together. I tell you what, said Tom, casting a look of genuine admiration upon his wife, if Polly takes the matter in hand its all right. Then they drew their chairs closer together, and the result of the consultation was that Fred left the house with a more hopeful countenance. Mr. Savage slept soundly all night; but when he got up and dressed himself he looked about him in vexation, and called to his nephew that he had lost his gold-headed cane. I left it in that den of infamy, he said; I remember it now. It is on the floor of that room with the trap-door. We must go to the chief of po- lice, Fred, the first thing this morning. Certainly, uncle, said Fred; and while a comfortable breakfast was preparing he handed his urfcle a new novel to look over. The old gentleman was soon deep in its pages, and kept it by his side when his chocolate was poured out. A charming thing, he said, tapping the cover; fresh and pure and wholesome. Ill take it down in the country with me, Fred. Im happy enoughto be acquainted with the authoress, said Fred. You dont tell me so! Some sha~p-visaged virago, with short hair and spectacles ? Quite the contrary. Shes a charming woman, gentle and winning. Id like to see her, said Mr. Savage. But the first thing to be attended to is this terrible nest of criminals. Of course, said Fred. But on their way down town Fred proposed that they should step isito one of the galleries. His uncle, who had been in his time an amateur, willingly assented. He was immediately attracted by a little cab- inet picture before which Fred had paused. Theres delicacy and force in that little thing, said Mr. Savage. Ive a mind to buy it, Fred, if I can get it reasonable enough. I think you can, said his nephew, for I know the artist is hard up just now. Tom Ingoldsbys a capital fellow, but hes something of a spendthrift. Hes the husband of the authoress I was speaking to you about~ this morning. You must introduce me, Fred; Id like it of all things. Wed have a capital chance this morning, if it wasnt for this other matter. Mrs. In- goldabys niece is studying for the stage, and theyve given me tickets for a private rehearsal this morning. Therell be lots of nice people there. If we only had time we could go. Now if there was one thing above another that Mr. Savage liked it was the drama; and this rehearsal, which would be attended by all sorts of nice people, seemed very tempting to him. I suppose, he said, turning to his nephew, we might put the other matter off for a few hours ? To tell the truth, said Fred, its very difficult to see the chief of police at this hour in the day. Well go to the rehearsal, said Mr. Savage. They had scarcely entered the hall when a gentleman, elaborately and carefully dressed, approached them, and Fred presented him to his uncle as Mr. Ingoldsby, the artist. Mr. Savage shook hands with him warmly, complimented him upon his picture in the gal- lery, but looked at him a little fixedly. It seemed to the old gentleman that his face was a little familiar to him. My wifes behind the scenes, said the art- ist; suppose we sit together. Then they sat down, and while waiting for the performance to commence, entered into conversation. Immediately the old gentleman plunged into the subject that most occupied his mind, and detailed his adventure of the previous day to his new acquaintance. Mr. Ingoldsby appeared stricken with horror. Its my duty to see to this matter at once, concluded Mr. Savage; my first visit after leaving this hall shall be to that house with a corps of police. I live down that way, said the artist; Ill go ~vith you. Then the curtain went up. Nothing could exceed the enthusiasm with which Mr. Savage greeted the young aspirant for Thespian honors. He declared he had never seen a sweeter, a purer face; that her voice was the voice of an angel. It reminded him somehow of a girl that had died long ago in the bloom of her youth, but whose memory would be green in the heart of Mr. Savage till it was cold in death. Tears came into his eyes, his voice trembled with emotion. He shouted, he pounded with his feethow he regretted his gold-headed cane! I left a valuable memento in that den yes- terday, he said, turning to the artist, on the floor of the room with the trap-door. 64 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Perhaps the Chinese suggested Mr. In- goldsby. Not at all, Sir, said Mr. Savage; the poor creature wouldnt know the value of it. The play reached its climax; the young act- ress, supposing her lover to be foully mur- dered, fell upon the stage in an agony of grief. Murdered! Dead ! cried the musical voice. And I alive! Mr. Savage looked about him, bewildered. Ive certainly seen this play before, he said. The rehearsal was over. Every bbdy pro- nounced it a perfect success; but as they were about leaving the hall Mr. Savage started, and clutched the arm of his nephew. Hab ! he cried, looking upon a graceful, majestic figure approaching them. Gracious Heaven! its the murderess of 219 ! Nonsense, said the artist; its my wife, Mrs. Ingoldsby. The the authoress ? stammered Mr. Savage. Of course, said Fred. Let me intro- duce you, uncle. II should be happy, said Mr. Savage, still staring upon her with distended eyes; but surely the resemblance is startling. Follys charming face, her luminous eyes, were ver~r pleasing to the old gentlemanher low voice sounded excellently in his ears; but ~vhen, Fred and Tom walking behind them, she took his arm, and they walked down the street together, he could not divest himself of an in- creasing nervousness. I thought your last novel a charming thing, he said, by way of opening the conversation. Im very glad, said Folly; but I like the one in press much betteronly they would make me kill my hero. You cant tell how l)adly I felt about it, dear Mr. Savage; I felt as if I had committed a murder. I went into Estelles room, where she was practicing her part, and complained to her bitterly about it. I suppose Im a goose; but I always get so in- terested in my own creations. II think thats natural, said Mr. Sav- age, gazing with bewilderment upon the un- gloved hand that lay upon his arm. It was a pretty hand, with taper fingers and rosy nails; bnt the old gentleman looked upon it with a species of petrifaction. My husband is just the same with his pic- tures, continued Folly. One would think the whole world hung breathless upon his fin- ishing a sketch; and he scarcely eats or drinks while he is at work. He wears an old dressing- gown, a scarlet cap, and just as likely as not therell be a streak of paint over his face Hah ! said Mr. Savage, starting. Yes, indeed, pursued Folly, laughing heartily; and then he shouts over the balus- ters for his models, and that does make me so enraged, for you know Im busy too, and I hate to be bothered. Why, yesterday I scarce- ly heard him calling me till he threw a billet of wood down the stairs. Mr. Savage put his hand nervously through his abundant white hair, and wiped the perspi- ration from his forehead. Dear, dear,~~ said Folly, I dont know what any one would think if they happened in upon us unawares. But, of course, we take good care that nothing of that kind happens. Biddys the faithfulest creature in the world, and what with bolts and bars and chains, were perfectly secure. In the evening we put aside all labor and enjoy ourselves. Wont you dine with us to-night, Mr. Savage? Well be so glad, for I want to introduce you to my niece Estelle; theres a particular reason why I want you to be fond of her. Youll come, wont you ? II think not, stammered Mr. Savage. Now, Mr. Savage, said Folly, coa~ingly, you mustnt refuse. Just a little dinner, sans ceiimonie, you know; there wont be any one present except us, unless its Tofty, the crow. We live at 219 Blank Street. Mr. Savage dropped the arm of his compan- ion. He turned red and pale by turns. Madam, he said my dear madam, Ive made an awful ass of myself! II Mr. Savage absolutely trembled. Dear Mr. Savage, said Folly, in the most dulcet of entreaties, and taking his arm again caressingly, Im so sorry, oh, so sorry! We wanted you to be so fond of us all; and now, just because you happened upon us in that un- lucky moment, and we were idiots enough to think you were wandering in your mind, youll never care for us again! 1Ithink you are an angel, madam; I do indeed, faltered the poor old gentleman. But IIm afraid Ive committed an unpar- donable outrage. Why, certainly not ! said Folly. What more natural than that you should desire to know all about your nephew? Dear Mr. Sav- age, youll come to-night, wont you ? - And Mr. Savage, with a sigh half of satisfae- tion and half of embarrassment, l)romised hed come. Who can describe the emotions of Mr. Sav- age when he again entered 219? Who can depict the rapture of Fred, the amusement of Tom, the delight of Folly, the joy of Estelle, the rage of Toffy, the amazement of Bridget, and the mild abstraction of Chang? By-the-way, said Tom, we found your gold-headed cane. In the trunk of that wicked Chang, said Folly. Foor lad ! said Mr. Savage; he liked the shining gold head. Yes, said Tom; he said it was muchee goodee. Estelle did not go upon the stage. She and Fred were married in the fall. Tom liked the lakes and mountains so well that he took the whole family down on a visit to Mr. Savage to get some sketches. But of all the Bohemian household Mr. Sav- ages favorite was Folly. THE AMERICAN BARON. 65 THE AMERICAN BARON. BY THE AUTHOR OF THE DODGE CLUB, THE CRYPTOGRAM, ETC. CHAPTER XV. THE AMERICAN BARON. A T.any other time Mrs. Willoughby would perhaps have manceuvred Minnie out of the room; but on the present occasion the ad- vent of the Italian was an inexpressible relief. Mrs. Willoughby was not prepared for a scene like this. The manners, the language, and the acts of Rufus K. Guna had filled her with sim- ple horror: She was actually bewildered, and her presence of mind was utterly gone. As for Minnie, she was quite helpless, and sat, looking frightened. The Baron Atramonte might have been one of the excellent of the earthhe might have been brave and loyal and jnst and true and tender, but his manner was one to which they were unaccustomed, and consequently Mrs. Willoughby was quite overcome. The arrival of Girasole, therefore, was greet- ed by her with joy. She at once rose to meet him, and could not help infusing into her greet- ing a warmth which she had never shown him before. Girasoles handsome eyes sparkled with delight, and when Mrs. Willoughby point- edly made way for him to seat himself next to Minnie his cup of joy was full. Mrs. Wil- loughbys only idea at that moment was to throw some obstacle between Minnie and that dreadful person who claimed her as his own, and had taken such shocking liberties. She did not know that, Girasole was in Rome, and now accepted his arrival at that opportune mo- ment as something little less than providential. Voa. XLIII.No. 253.5 And now, actuated still by the idea of throw- ing further obstacles between Minnie and the Baron, she herself ~vent over to the latter, and began a series of polite remarks about the weather and about Rome; while Girasole, eager to avail himself of his unexpected privilege, conversed with Minnie in a low voice in his broken English. This arrangement was certainly not very agreeable to the Baron. His flow of spirits seemed to be checked at once, and his volu- bility ceased. He made only monosyllabic an- swers to Mrs. Willoughbys remarks, and his eyes kept wandering over beyond her to Min- nie, and scrutinizing the Italian who was thus monopolizing her at the very moment when he was beginning to have a realizing sense of her presence. He looked puzzled. He could not understand it at all. He felt that some wrong was done by somebody. He fell into an un- gracious mood. He hated the Italian who had thus come between him and his happiness, and who chatted with Minnie, in his abominable broken English, just like an old acquaintance. He couldnt understand it. He felt an unpleas- ant restraint thrown over him, and began to meditate a departure, and a call at some more favorable time later in the evening. But he wanted to have a few more words with Mm, and so he tried to sit out the Italian. But the Italian was as determined as the American. It was the first chance that he had had to get a word with Minnie since he was in Milan, and he was eager to avail himself of it. Mrs. Willoughby, on her part, having thus dis- comfited the Baron, was not unmindful of the other danger; so she moved her seat to a posi- tion near enough to overlook and check Gira- sole, nud then resumed those formal, chilling, heartless, but perfectly polite remarks which she had been administering to the Baron since Girasoles arrival. At length Mrs. Willoughby began to be dread- fully bored, and groaned in spirit over the sit- uation in which Minnie had placed herself, and racked her brains to find some way of retreat from these two determined lovers, who thus set at naught the usages of society for their own convenience. She grew indignant. She won- dered if they would ever go. She wondered if it were not possible to engage the Count and the Baron in a conversation by themselves, and, under cover of it, withdraw. Finally she began to think whether she would not be justified in being rude to them, since they were so incon- siderate. She thought over this, and was rap- idly coming to the decision that some act of rudeness was her only hope, when, to her im- mense relief, the servant entered and announced Lord Hawbury. The entrance of the welcome guest into the -& : HAW]3UBY, AS IM A LIVING sizxzz

THE AMERICAN BARON. 65 THE AMERICAN BARON. BY THE AUTHOR OF THE DODGE CLUB, THE CRYPTOGRAM, ETC. CHAPTER XV. THE AMERICAN BARON. A T.any other time Mrs. Willoughby would perhaps have manceuvred Minnie out of the room; but on the present occasion the ad- vent of the Italian was an inexpressible relief. Mrs. Willoughby was not prepared for a scene like this. The manners, the language, and the acts of Rufus K. Guna had filled her with sim- ple horror: She was actually bewildered, and her presence of mind was utterly gone. As for Minnie, she was quite helpless, and sat, looking frightened. The Baron Atramonte might have been one of the excellent of the earthhe might have been brave and loyal and jnst and true and tender, but his manner was one to which they were unaccustomed, and consequently Mrs. Willoughby was quite overcome. The arrival of Girasole, therefore, was greet- ed by her with joy. She at once rose to meet him, and could not help infusing into her greet- ing a warmth which she had never shown him before. Girasoles handsome eyes sparkled with delight, and when Mrs. Willoughby point- edly made way for him to seat himself next to Minnie his cup of joy was full. Mrs. Wil- loughbys only idea at that moment was to throw some obstacle between Minnie and that dreadful person who claimed her as his own, and had taken such shocking liberties. She did not know that, Girasole was in Rome, and now accepted his arrival at that opportune mo- ment as something little less than providential. Voa. XLIII.No. 253.5 And now, actuated still by the idea of throw- ing further obstacles between Minnie and the Baron, she herself ~vent over to the latter, and began a series of polite remarks about the weather and about Rome; while Girasole, eager to avail himself of his unexpected privilege, conversed with Minnie in a low voice in his broken English. This arrangement was certainly not very agreeable to the Baron. His flow of spirits seemed to be checked at once, and his volu- bility ceased. He made only monosyllabic an- swers to Mrs. Willoughbys remarks, and his eyes kept wandering over beyond her to Min- nie, and scrutinizing the Italian who was thus monopolizing her at the very moment when he was beginning to have a realizing sense of her presence. He looked puzzled. He could not understand it at all. He felt that some wrong was done by somebody. He fell into an un- gracious mood. He hated the Italian who had thus come between him and his happiness, and who chatted with Minnie, in his abominable broken English, just like an old acquaintance. He couldnt understand it. He felt an unpleas- ant restraint thrown over him, and began to meditate a departure, and a call at some more favorable time later in the evening. But he wanted to have a few more words with Mm, and so he tried to sit out the Italian. But the Italian was as determined as the American. It was the first chance that he had had to get a word with Minnie since he was in Milan, and he was eager to avail himself of it. Mrs. Willoughby, on her part, having thus dis- comfited the Baron, was not unmindful of the other danger; so she moved her seat to a posi- tion near enough to overlook and check Gira- sole, nud then resumed those formal, chilling, heartless, but perfectly polite remarks which she had been administering to the Baron since Girasoles arrival. At length Mrs. Willoughby began to be dread- fully bored, and groaned in spirit over the sit- uation in which Minnie had placed herself, and racked her brains to find some way of retreat from these two determined lovers, who thus set at naught the usages of society for their own convenience. She grew indignant. She won- dered if they would ever go. She wondered if it were not possible to engage the Count and the Baron in a conversation by themselves, and, under cover of it, withdraw. Finally she began to think whether she would not be justified in being rude to them, since they were so incon- siderate. She thought over this, and was rap- idly coming to the decision that some act of rudeness was her only hope, when, to her im- mense relief, the servant entered and announced Lord Hawbury. The entrance of the welcome guest into the -& : HAW]3UBY, AS IM A LIVING sizxzz 66 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. room where the unwelcome ones were seated was to Mrs. Willoughby like light in a dark place. To Minnie also it brought immense re- lief ia her difficult position. The ladies rose, and were about to greet the new-corner, when, to their amazement, the Baron sprang forward, caught Lord Hawburys hand, and wrung it over and over again with the most astonishing vehemence. Hawbury, as I~m a living sinner! Thun- deration! Where did you come from? Gocid again! Darn it all, Hawbury, this is real good! And how well you look! How are you? All right, and right side up? Whod have thought it? It aint you, really, now, is it? Darn me if I ever was so astonished in my life! Youre the last man Id have expected. Yes, Sir. You may bet high on that. Ah, really, said Hawbury, my dear fel- low! Flattered, Im sure. And how goes it with you? Deuced odd place to find you, old boy. And Im deuced glad to see you, you know, and all that sort of thing. And he wrung the Barons hand quite as heartily as the other wrung his; and the ex- pression on his face was of as much cordiality and pleasure as that upon the face of the other. Then Hawbury greeted the ladies, and apolo- gized by stating that the Baron was a very old and tried friend, whom he had not seen for years; which intelligence surprised Mrs. Wil- loughby greatly, and brought a faint ray of something like peace to poor Minnie. The ladies were not imprisoned much lon- ger. Girasole threw a black look at Lord Hawbury, and retreated. After a few moments chat Hawbury also retired, and made the Baron go with him. And the Baron went without any urging. He insisted, however, on shaking hands heartily with both of the ladies, especial- ly Minnie, whose poor little hand he nearly crushed into a pulp; and to the latter he whis- pered the consoling assurance that he would come to see her on the following day. After which he followed his friend out. Then he took Hawbury over to his own quar- ters, and Hawbury made himself very much at home in a rocking-chair, which the Baron re- garded as the pride and joy and glory of his room. By Jove ! cried Hawbury. This is deuced odd, do you know, old chap; and I cant imagine how the mischief you got here ! This led to long explanations, and a long conversation, which was protracted far into the night, to the immense enjoyment of both of the friends. The Baron was, as Lord Hawbury had said, an old friend. He bad become acquainted with him many years before upon the prairies of America, near the Rocky Mountains. The Baron had rescued him from Indians, by whom he had been entrapped, and the two friends had wandered far over those regions, enduring per- ils, fighting enemies, and roughing it in general. This rough life had made each ones better na ture visible to the other, and had led to the formation of a friendship full of mutual appre- ciation of the others best qualities. Now it is just possible that if they had not known one another, Hawbury might have thought the Bar- on a boor, and the Baron aught have called Hawbury a thundering snob ; but as it was, the possible boor and the possible snob each though1~ the other one of the finest fellows in the world. But youre not a Roman Catholic, said Hawbury, as the Baron explained his position among the Zonaves. Whats the odds? Alls fish that comes to their net. To get an office in the Church may require a profession of faith, but were not so particular in the army. I take the oath, and they let me go. Besides, I have Roman Cath olic leanings. Roman Catholic leanings ? Yes; I like the Pope. Hes a fine man, Sira fine man. I regard that man more like a father than any thing else. There isnt one of us but would lay down our lives for that old gentleman. But you never go to confession, and youre not a member of the Church. No, but then Im a member of the army, and I have long chats with some of the En glish-speaking priests. There are some first-- rate fellows among them, too. Yes, Sir. I dont see much of a leaning in all that. Leaning? Why, its all leaning. Why, look here. I remember the time when I was- a grim, true-blue Puritan. Well, I aint that now. I used to think the Pope was the.Beast of the Pocalypse. Well, now I think hes the finest old gentleman I ever saw. I didnt use to go to Catholic chapel. Well, now Im there often, and I rather kind o like it. Besides, Im ready to argue with them all day and all night, and what more can they expect from a fighting man? You see, after our war I got my hand in, and. couldnt stop fighting. The Indians wouldnt. dotoo much throat - cutting and savagery. So I came over here, took a fancy to the Pope, enlisted, was at Mentana, fit there, got promot- ed, went home, couldnt stand it, and here I am, back again; though how long Im going to. be here is moren I can tell. The fact is, I feel kind of onsettled. Why so Oh, its an aggravating place, at the best. How ? Theres such an everlasting waste of re sources such tarnation bad management. Fact is, Ive noted that its always the ease wherever you trust ministers to do business. Theyre sure to make a mess of it. Ive known lots of cases. Why, thats always the way witlt us. Look at our stock-companies of any kind, our religious societies, and our publishing houses wherever they get a ministerial committee, the whole concern goes to blazes. I know that. Yes, Sir. Now thats the case here. Heres THE AMERICAN BARON. 67 a fine country. Why, round this here city theres a country, Sir, that, if properly man- aged, might beat any of our prairiesand look at it. Then, again, they complain of poverty. Why, I can tell you, from my own observation, that theyve got enough capital locked up, lying useless, in this here city, to regenerate it all, and put it on its feet. This capital wants to be utilized. Its been lying too long without pay- ing interest. Its time that it stopped. Why, I tell you what it is, if they were to sell out what they have here lying idle, and realize, theyd get enough money to form an endow- ment fund for the Pope and his court so big that his Holiness and every official in the place might get salaries all round out of the interest that would enable them to live likewell, I was going to say like princes, but theres a lot of princes in Rome that live so shabby that the comparison aint worth nothing. Why, see here now, continued the Baron, warming with his theme, which seemed to be a congenial one; just look here; see the posi- tion of this Roman court. They can actually levy taxes on the whole world. Voluntary con- tributions, Sir~ are a wonderful power. Think of our missionary societiesour Sabbath-school organizations in the States. Think of the wealth, the activity, and the action of all our great char- itable, philanthropic, and religious bodies. What supports them all? Voluntary contributions. Now what I mean to say is thisI mean to say that if a proper organization was arranged here, they could get annual receipts from the whole round globe that would make the Pope the richest man on it. Why, in that case Roths- child wouldnt be a circumstance. The Pope might go into banking himself, and control the markets of the world. But no. Theres a lot of ministers here, and they havent any head for it. I wish theyd give me a chance. Id make things spin. Then, again, theyve got other things here thats ruining them. Theres too much repres- sion, and that dont do for the immortal mind. My idea is that every man was created free and equal, and has a right to do just as he darn pleases; but you cant beat that into the heads of the governing class here. No, Sir. The fact is, what Rome wants is a republic. It 11 come, too, some day. The great mistake of his Holinesss life is that he didnt put himself at the head of the movement in 48. He had the chance, but he got frightened, and backed down. Whereas if he had been a real, live Yankee, nowif he had been like some of our Western parsonshed have put himself on the tiptop of the highest wave, and gone in. Why, he could have had all Italy at his right hand by this time, instead of having it all against him. Theres where he made his little mistake. If I were Pope Id fight the enemy with their own weapons. Id accept the situation. Id go in head over heels for a republic. Id have Rome the capital, myself president, Garibaldi com mander-in-chief Mazzini secretary of state a man, Sir, that can lick even Bill Seward him- self in a regular, old-fashioned, tojigney, sub- tile, diplomatic note. And in that case, with a few live men at the head of affairs, where would Victor Emanuel be? Emphatically, no- where! Why, Sir, continued the Baron, Id en- gage t1 take this city as it is, and the office of Pope, and run the whole Roman Catholic Church, till it knocked out all opposition by the simple and natural process of absorbing all opponents. We want a republic here in Rome. We want freedom, Sir. Where is the Chw,ch making its greatest triumphs to-day? In the States, Sir. If the Catholic Church made, it- self free and liberal and go-ahead; if it kept~ up with the times; if it was imbued with the spirit of progress, and pitched aside all old- fashioned traditions why, I tell you, Sir, it would be a little the tallest organization on this green globe of ours. Yes, Sir I While Hawbury and the Baron were thus engaged in high discourse, Mrs.Willoughby and Minnie were engaged in discourses of a less elevated but more engrossing character. After the ladies had escaped. they went up stairs. Lady Dairymple had retired some time before to her own room, and they h~d the apartment to themselves. Minnie flung herself into a chair and looked bewildered; Mrs. Wil- loughby took another chair opposite, and said nothing for a long time. Well, said Minnie at last, you neednt be so cross, Kitty; I didnt bring him here. Cross! said her sister; Im not cross. Well, youre showing temper, at any rate; and you know you are, and I think it very unkind in you,when I have so much to trouble me. Why, really, Minnie darling, I dont know what to say. Well, why dont you tell me what you think of him, and all that sort of thing? You might, you know. Think of him l repeated Mrs.Willoughby, elevating her eyebrows. Yes, think of him; and you neednt go and make faces about him, at any rate. Did I make faces? Well, dear, said Mrs. Willoughby, patiently, Ill tell you what I think of him. Im afraid of him. Well, then, said Minnie, in a tone of triumph, now you know how I feel. Sup- pose he saved your life, and then came in his awfully boisterous way to see you; and got you alone, and began that way, and really quite overwhelmed you, you know; and then, when you were really almost stunned, suppose he went and proposed to you? Now, then I And Minnie ended this question with the air of one who could not be answered, and knew it. Hes awfulperfectly awful ! said Mrs. Willoughby. And the way he treated you! It was so shocking. I know; and thats just the horrid way he 68 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. always does, said Minnie, in a plaintive tone. Im sure I dont know what to do with him. And then hes Lord Hawburys friend. So what are we to do ? I dont know, unless we leave Rome at once. But I dont want to leave Rome, said Min- nie. I hate being chased away from places by peopleand theyd be sure to follow me, you knowand I dont know what to do. And oh, Kitty darling, Ive just thought of some- thing. It would be so nice. What do you think of it? What is it? Why, this. You know the Pope ? No, I dont. Oh, well, youve seen him, you know. Yes; hut what has he got to do with it ? Why, Ill get you to take me, and Ill go to him, and tell him all about it, and ahout all these horrid men; and Ill ask him if he cant do something or other to help me. They have dispensations and things, you know, that the Pope gives; and I want him to let me dispense with these awful people. Nonsense ! said Mrs. Willoughby. I dont see any nonsense in it at all. Im in earnest, said Minnie; and I think its a great shame. Nonsense! said her sister again; the only thing is for you to stay in your room. But I dont want to stay in my room, and I cant. Oh dear! what can I do with this child ? exclaimed Mrs. Willoughby, ~vhose patience was giving way. Upon this Minnie ~vent over and kissed her, and begged to be forgiven; and offered to do any thing that darling Kitty ~vnnted her to do. Afterthis they talk- ed a good deal over their difficulty, but without being able to see their way out of it more clearly. That evening they were walking up and down the balcony of the house. It was a quadrangular edifice, and they had a suit of rooms on the sec- ond and third stories. They were on the balcony of the third story, which looked down into the court-yard below. A fountain was in the middle of this, and the moon was shining brightly. The ladies were standing looking dows, when Minnie gently touched her sisters arm, and whispered, Look at the man! Where? By the fountain. Mrs. Willoughby looked, and saw the face of a man who was standing on the other side of the fountain. His bead rose above it, and his face was turned toward them. He evidently did not know that he was seen, but was watch- ing the ladies, thinking that he himself was un- observed. The moment that Mrs. Willoughby looked at the face she recognized it. Come in, said she to Minnie. And draw- ing her sister after her, she ~vent into the house. I knew the face; didnt you, Kitty dear ? said Minnie. Its so easy to tell it. It was Scone Dacres. But what in the world does he want? Oh dear! I hone he wont bother me. ~LOOK AT THE MKE! THE AMERICAN BARON. 69 she comes home. Come along, parson, and CHAPTER XVI. make yourself quite at home. Oh, never mind, THE INTRUDER. young man, he continued to the servant; I JUDGING from the Barons own words, it will know the way. Come along, parson. And be perceived that his comprehension of the sit- with these words lie led the way into the re- uation was a little different from the actual fact. ception-rooni, in which he had been before. His idea was that his last letter had been re- An elderly lady was seated there whom the ceived by Minnie in England, whereupon she Baron recognized as having seen before. It was had been seized with such an ungovernable Lady IDalrymple, whose name was, of course, longing to see him that she at once set out for unknown to him, since he had only exchanged Rome. She had not sent him any message, for a few words on his former visit. But as he was she wished to surprise him. She had done so naturally chivalrous, and as he was bent on mak- effectually. He was not merely surprised; he ing friends with all in the house, and as he was was overwhelmed, overjoyed, intoxicated with also in a glorious state of good-will to the en- joy. This was indeed kind, he thoughtthe tire human race, he at once advanced to the true part of a fond girl, who thus cast aside all lady and made a low bow. silly scruples, and followed the dictates of her How do you do, maam ? own noble and loving heart. Lady Dalrymple bowed good-naturedly, for Now the fact that he had made a partial fail- she was good-natured to a fault. ure of his first visit to his charmer did not in I suppose you remember me, maam, said the slightest degree disconcert him. He was the Baron, in rather a loud voice; for, as the naturally joyous, hilarious, and sanguine. His lady was elderly, he had a vague idea that she courage never faltered, nor could the brightness was deafwhich impression, I may mention, of his soul be easily dimmed. A disappoint- was altogether unfoundedI suppose you re- ment on one day gave him but little trouble. member me, maam? But I havent had the It was quickly thrown off, and then his buoyant pleasure of a regular introduction to you; so spirit looked forward for better fortune on the well waive ceremony, if you choose, and Ill in- next day. The little disappointment which he troduce myself. Im the Baron Atramonte, and had did not, therefore, prevent him from letting this is my very particular friend, the Reverend his reason feast and his soul flow with Lord Saul Tozer. Hawbury; nor, when that festive season was Im happy to make your acquaintance, over, did it prevent him from indulging in the said Lady Dalrymple, with a smile, and not brightest anticipations for the following day. taking the Barons offered handnot, however, On the afternoon of that day, then, the Baron from pride, but simply from. lazinessfor she directed his steps toward the hotel where his hated the bother, and didnt consider it good charmer resided, his heart beating high, and the taste. generous blood mantling his cheek, and all that I called here, maam, said the Baron, with- sort of thing. But the Baron was not alone, out noticing that Lady Dairymple had not in- He had a companion, and this companion was troduced herself I called here, maam, to see an acquaintance whom he had made that morn- my young friend, Miss Minnie Pay. Im very ing. This companion was very tall, very thin, sorry that she aint at home; but since I am very sallow, with long, straggling locks of rusty here, I rather think Ill just set down and wait black hair, white neck-tie, and a suit of rather for her. I spose you couldnt tell me, maam, seedy black clothes. In fact, it was the very about how long it 11 be before she comes in ? stranger who had been arrested almost under Lady Dairymple hadnt any idea. his eyes as a Garibaldian. His case had come All right, said the Baron; the longer under the notice of the Baron, who had visit- she keeps me waiting, the more welcome shell ed him, and found him not to be a Garibaldian be when she does come. Thats all Ive got to at all, but a fellow-countryman in distressin say. short, no less a person than the Reverend Saul So the Baron handed a chair to the Rever- Tozer, an esteemed clergyman, who had been end Saul, and then selecting other for him- traveling through Europe for the benefit of his self in a convenient position, nsconced him- health and the enlargement of his knowledge. self in it as snugly as possible, and sat in silence This fellow-conutrymen in distress had at once for a few minutes. Lady Dalrymple took no been released by the Barons influence; and, notice of him whatever, but appeared to be en- not content with giving him his liberty, he de- grossed with some trifle of needle-work. termined to take him under his protection, and After about five minutes the Baron resumed offered to introduce him to society; all of which the task of making himself agreeable. generous offices were fully appreciated by the He cleared his throat. grateful clergyman. Long in these parts, maam ? he asked. The Barons steps were first directed toward Not very long, said Lady Dalrymple, with the place above mentioned, and the Reverend her usual bland good-nature. Saul accompanied him. On reaching it he A nice place this, continued the Baron. knocked, a~d asked for Miss Pay. Yes. Not at home, was the reply. And do you keep your health, maam? in- Oh, well, said he, Ill go in and wait till quired the Baron, with some anxiety. 70 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Thanks, said Lady Dairymple; which ob- servation set the Barons mind wondering what she meant by that. Pray, maam, said he, after a pause, might you be any relation to a young lady friend of mine thats staying here named Minnie Fay ? A little, said Lady Dalrymple; which re- mark set the Baron again wondering. And he was about to return to the charge with another and more direct question, when his attention was arrested by the sound of footsteps on the stairs; so he sat bolt upright, and stared hard at the door. There was the rustle of a dress. The Baron rose. So did the Reverend Saul Tozer. The lady appeared. It was not Minnie. It was Mrs. Willoughby. Now during the Barons visit there had been some excitement up stairs. The ladies had told the servants that they were not at home to any callers that day. They had found with con- sternation how carelessly the Baron had brushed aside their little cobweb regulation, and had heard his voice as he strove to keep up an easy conversation with their aunt. Whereupon an earnest debate arose. They felt that it was not fair to leave their aunt alone with the Baron, and that one of them should go to the rescue. To Mrs. Willoughbys amazement, Minnie was anxious to go. To this she utterly objected. Minnie insisted, and Mrs. Willoughby was in despair. In vain she reproached that most whimsical of young ladies. In vainshe remind- ed her of the Barons rudeness on a former oc- casion. Minnie simply reminded her that the Baron had saved her life. At last Mrs. Wil- loughby actually had to resort to entreaties, and thus she persuaded Minnie not to go down. So she went down herself, but in fear and trem- bling, for she did not know at what moment her voluble and utterly unreliable sister might take it into her head to follow her. The Baron, who had risen, full of expecta- tion, stood looking at her, full of disappoint- ment, which was very strongly marked on his face. Then he recollected that Minnie was not at home, and that he must wait till she did get home. This thought, and the hope that he would not now have long to wait, brought back his friendly glow, and his calm and his peace and his good-will toward the whole human rage, including the ladies in the room. He ther~ore bowed very low, and, ad- vancing, he made an effort to shake hands; but Mrs. Willoughby had already known the dread pressure which the Baron gave, and evaded him by a polite bow. Thereupon the Baron introduced the Reverend Saul Tozer. The Baron took out his watch, looked at it, frowned, coughed, put it back, and then drummed with his fingers on the arm of the chair. Will it be long, maam, asked the Baron, before Minnie gets back ? She is not out, said Mrs. Willoughby. Not out ? No. Why, the thundering fool of a servant went and told me that she was not at home She is at home, said Mrs. Willoughby, sweetly. What! at home ! cried the Baron. And does she know Im here ? She does. Then why in thunder dont she come down ? cried the Baron, wonderingly. Because she is indisposed. Indisposed? Yes. This was the information which Mrs. Wil- loughby had decided to give to the Baron. Min- nie had stipulated that his feelings should not be hurt; and this seemed to her to be the easi- est mode of dealing with him. Indisposed! cried the Baron. Yes. Oh dear! Oh, I hope, maamI do hope, ma am, that she aint very bad. Is it any thing seriousor what ? Not very serious; she has to keep her room, though. She aint sick abed, I hope ? Oh nonot so bad as that Oh dear! its all 7ne, I know. Im to blame. She made this journeythe poor lit- tle pet !just to see me; and the fatigue and the excitement have all been too much. Oh, I might have known it! Oh, I remember now how pale she looked yesterday! Oh dear! what 11 I do if any thing happens to her? Oh, do tell meis she better ?did she pass a good night ?docs she suffer any pain ?can I do any thing for her ?will you take a little mes- sage from me to her ? She is quite easy now, thanks, said Mrs. Willoughby; but we have to keep her per- fectly quiet; the slightest excitement may be dangerous. Meanwhile the Reverend Saul had become wearied with sitting dumb, and began to look around for some suitable means of taking part in the conversation. As the Baron had intro- duced him to society, he felt that it was his duty to take some part so as to assert himself both as a man, a scholar, and a clergyman. So, as he found the Baron was monopolizing Mrs. Willoughby, he gradually edged over till he came within ear-shot of Lady Dalrymple, and then began to work his way toward a con- versation. This, mnam, he began, is truly an in- teresting spot. Lady Dalrymple bowed. Yes, manm. Ive been for the past few days surveying the ruins of antiquity. It is truly a soal-stirring spectacle. So I have heard, remarked Lady Dalrym- ple, cheerfully. Every thing around us, maam, continued the Reverend Saul, in a dismal voice, is sub- ject to dissolution, or is nctuall~ dissolving. How forcible air the words of the Psalmist: Our days air as the grass; or, like the morn- THE AMERICAN BARON. 71 ing flower, when blasting winds sweep oer the vale, they wither in an hour. Yes, maam, I have this week stood in the Roman Forum. The Coliseum, also, maam, is a wonderful place. It was built by the Flavian emperors, and when completed could hold eighty thousand spectators seated, with about twenty thousand standing. In hot weather these spectators were protected from the rays of the sun by means of a~vnings. It is a mighty fabric, maam I should think so, said Lady Dalrymple. The arch of Titus, maam, is a fine ruin. It was originally built by the emperor of that name to commemorate the conquest of Jerusa- lem. The arch of Septimius Severus was built by the Emperor of that name, and the arch of Constantine was built by the emperor of that name. They are all very remarkable struc- tures. Im charmed to hear you say so. Its true, maum; hut, let me add, maam, that the ruins of this ancient city do not offer to my eyes a spectacle half so melancholy as the great moral ruin which is presented by the modern city. For, maam, when I look around, what do I see? I behold the Babylon of the Apocalypse! Pray, maam, have you ever re- flected much on that ? Not to any great extent, said Lady Dal- rymple, who now began to feel bored, and so arose to her feet. The Reverend Saul Tozer was just getting on a full head of conversational steam, and was just fairly under way, when this sad and chilling occurrence took place. She rose and bowed to the gentlemen, and began to retreat. All this time the Baron had been pouring forth to Mrs. Willoughby his excited interroga- tories about Minnies health, and had asked her to take a message. This Mrs. Willoughby re- fused at first. Oh no! said she; it will really disturb her too much. What she wants most is per- fect quiet. Her health is really very delicate, and I am excessively anxious about her. But does shedoes sheis shecan she valk about her own room ? stammered the Baron. A little, said Mrs. Willoughby. Oh, I hope in a few weeks she niay be able to come down. But the very greatest care and quiet are needed, for she is in such a very delicate state that we watch her night and day. A few weeks ! echoed the Baron, in dis- may. Watch her night and day Oh, you know, it is the only chance for her recovery. She is so delicate. The Baron looked at Mrs. Willoughby with a pale face, upon which there was real suffer- ing and real misery. Cant I do something ? he gasped. Wont you take a message to her? It ought to do her good. Perhaps she thinks Im neglecting her. Perhaps she thinks I aint here enough. Tell her Im ready to give up my office, and even my title of nobility, and come and live here, if it 11 be any comfort to her. Oh, really, Sir, you quite mistake her, said Mrs. Willoughby. It has no reference to you whatever. Its a nervous affection, accompa- nied with general debility and neuralgia. Oh no, you dont know her, said the Bar- on, incredulously. I know her. I know what it is. But she walks, dont she ? Yes, a littlejust across the room; still even that is too much. She is very, very weak, and must be quite kept free from excitement. Even the excitement of your visits is bad for her. Her pulse isisalwaysaccelerated andsheI Oh, dear me While Mrs. Willoughby had been making up this last sentence she was startled by a rustling on the stairs. It was the rustle of a females dress. An awful thought occurred to her, which distracted her, and confused her in the middle of her sentence, and made her scarce able to articulate her words. And as she spoke them the rustle drew nearer, and she heard the sound of feet descending the stairs, until at last the footstcps approached the door, and Mrs. Wil- loughby, to her utter horror, saw Minnie herself. Now as to the Baron, in the course of his animated conversation with Mrs. Willoughby, and in his excited entreaties to her to carry a message up to the invalid, he had turned round with his back to the door. It was about the time that Lady Dalrymple had begun to beat a retreat. As she advanced the Baron saw her, and, with his usual politeness, moved ever so far to one side, bowing low as he did so. Lady Dalrymple passed, the Baron raised himself, and as Mrs. Willoughby was yet speaking, and had just reached the exclamation which con- cluded her last remark, lie was astounded by the sudden appearance of Minnie herself at the door. The effect of this sudden appearance was overwhelming. Mrs. Willoughby stood thun- der-struck, and the Baron utterly bewildered. The latter recovered his faculties first. It was just as Lady Dalrymple was passing out. With a bound he sprang toward Miiinie, and caught her in his arms, uttering a series of inarticulate cries. Oh, Mm! and you did come down, did you? Aiid you couldnt stay up there, could you? I wanted to send a message to you. Poor little Mm! youre so weak. Is it any thing serious? Oh, my darling little Mm! But sit down on this here seat. Dont stand; youre too weak. Why didnt you send, and Id have carried you down? But tell me now, honest, wasnt it rue that brought this on? Never mind, Ill never leave you again. This is the style which the gallant Baron adopted to express his sontiments concerning Minnie; and the result was that he succeeded in giving utterance to words that were quite as incoherent as any that Minnie herself in her most rambling moods, had ever uttered. The Baron now gave himself up to joy. He 72 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. took no notice of any body. He sat by Min- nies side on a sofa, and openly held her hand. The Reverend Saul Tozer looked on with an approving smile, and surveyed the scene like a father. Mrs. Willoughbys soul was on fire with indignation at Minnies folly and the Bar- ons impudence. She was also indignant that hcr little conventional falsehoods had been sud- denly disproved by the act of Minnie herself. Yet she did not know what to say, and so she went to a chair, and flung herself into it in fierce anger. As for Minnie herself, she had come down to the Baron, and appeared rather to enjoy the situation. She talked ahout Rome and Naples, and asked him all about himself, and the Baron explained his whole situation down to the mi- nutest detail. She was utterly indifferent to her sister. Once or twice the Baron made a move to go, but did not succeed. He finally settled himself down apparently for the rest of the day; but Mrs. Willoughby at last interposed. She walked forward. She took Minnies hand, and spoke to her in a tone which she but seldom used. You shall not stay here any longer! she cried. Come. And Minnie obeyed at once. The Baron insisted on a tender adieu. Mrs. Willoughby stood by, with flashing eyes and heaving breast. Minnie followed her up stairs in silence. You silly child ! she cried. Are you mad? What made you come down? You broke your promise WellwellI couldnt help it, and he is so deliciously rude; and do you know, Kitty dear- est, I really begin to feel quite fond of him. Now listen, child. You shall never see him again. I dont see why not, whimpered Minnie. And Fm going to telegraph to papa. I wouldnt have the responsibility of you another week for the world. Now, Kitty, youre horrid. CHAPTER XVII. TIlE BARON 5 ASSAULTS. ON the eventful afternoon when the Baron had effected~ an entrance into the heart of the enemys country, another caller had come there one equally intent and equally determined, but not quite so aggressive. This was the Count Girasole. The same answer was given to him which had been given to the Baron, but with far different effect. The Baron had care- lessly brushed the slight obstacle aside. To the Count it was an impenetrable barrier. It was a bitter disappointment, too; for he had been filled with the brightest hopes and expectations by the reception with which he had met on his last visit. That reception had made him be- lieve that they had changed their sentiments and their attitude toward him, and that for the future he would be received in the same fashion. He had determined, therefore, to make the most of this favorable change, and so he at once re- peated his call. This time, however, his hopes were crushed. What made it worse, he had seen the entrance of the Baron and the Reverend Saul, and knew by this that instead of being a favored mortal in the eyes of these ladies, he was really, in their estimation, placed below these comparative strangers. By the language of Lord Hawbury on his previous call, he knew that the acquaintance of the Baron with Mrs. Willoughby was but recent. The disappointment of the Count filled him with rage, and revived all his old feelings and plans and projects. The Count was not one who could suffer in silence. He was a crafty, wily, subtle, scheming Italian, whose fertile brain was full of plans to achieve his desires, and who preferred to accomplish his aims by a tortuous path, rather than by a straight one. This repulse revived old projects, and he took his departure with several little schemes in his mind, some of which, at least, were destined to bear fruit afterward. On the following day the Baron called once more. The ladies in the mean time had talked over the situation, but were unable to see what they were to do with a man who insisted on forcing his way into their house. Their treat- ment would have been easy enough if it had not been for Minnie. She insisted that they should not be unkind to him. lie had saved her life, she said, and she could not treat him with rudeness. Lady Dalrymple was in despair, and Mrs. Willoughby at her wits end, while Ethel, to whom the circumstance was made known, was roused by it from her sadness, and tried to remonstrate with Minnie. All her ef- forts, however, were as vain as those of her friends. Minnie could not be induced to take any decided stand. She insisted on seeing him whenever he called, on the ground that it would be unkind not to. And will you insist on seeing Girasole also ? asked Mrs. Willoughby. I dont know. Im awfully sorry for him; said Minnie. Well, then, Captnin Kirby will be here next. Of course you will see him ? I suppose so, said Minnie, resignedly. And how long do you think this sort of thing can go on? Theyll meet, and blood will he shed. Oh dear! Im afraid so. Then Im not going to allow it. Ive tele- graphed to papa. Hell see whether you are going to have your own ~vay or not. Im sure I dont see what dear papa can do. He wont let you see those horrid men. He wont be cruel enough to lock me up in the house. I do wish he would come and take me a~vay. I dont want them. Theyre all horrid. THE AMERICAN BARON. 73 This last one this Gunn is the most terrible man I ever saw. Oh, Kitty dear- est! How can you say so? Why, his rude- ness and violence are ])erfectly irresistible. Hes charming. He bullies one so deli- ciously. Mrs. Willoughby at this turned away in despair. Minnies very pe- culiar situation was certainly one which required a speedy change. The forced entrance of the Baron had thrown conster- nation into the fami ly. Ethel herself bad heen roused, and took a part in the dehate. She hegan to see Min- nie in a new light, and Hawburys attention to her hegan to as- sume the nppearance of a very mournful joke. To her mind Minnie Was now the subject of desperate attention from five men. Thus 1. Lord Hawhury. 2. Count Girasole. 3. Scone Dacres. 4. Baron Atramonte. 5. Captain Kirby, of whom Mrs. Willoughby had just told her. And of these, four had saved her life, and consequently had the strongest possible claims on her. And the only satisfaction which Ethel could gain out of this was the thought that Ha~vbury, at least, had not saved Minnies life. And now to proceed. The Baron called, as has heen said, on the following day. This time he did not hring the Reverend Saul with him. He wished to see Minnie alone, and felt the presence of third per- sons to be rather unpleasant. On reaching the place he was told, as before, that the ladies were not at home. Now the Baron remembered that on the pre- ceding day the servant had said the same, while all the time the ladies were home. He was charitably inclined to suppose that it was a mistake, and not a deliberate lie; and, as he was in a frame of good-will to mankind, he adopted this first theory. All right, young man, said he; but as MIN, ITS ME V you lied yesterdaynader a mistakeI prefer seeing for myself to-day. So the Baron brushed by the servant, and went in. He entered the room. No one was there. He waited a little while, and thought. He was too impatient to wait long. He could not trust these lying servants. So he determ- ined to try for himself. Her room was up stairs, somewhere in the story above. So he went out of the room, and up the stairs, until his head was on a level with the floor of the story above. Then he called: Mm ! No answer. MIN! in a louder voice. No answer. MIN! its ME ! still louder. No answer. a perfect yell. At this last shout there was a response. One of the doors opened, and a lady made her ap- pearance, while at two other doors appeared two maids. The lady was young and beauti- ful, and her face was stern, and her dark eyes looked indignantly toward the Baron. 74 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Who are you ? she asked, abruptly; and what do you want ? Me? Im the Baron Atramonte; and I want Mm. Dont you know where she is ? Who? Mm. Mm ? asked the other, in amazement. Yes. My MijiMinnie, you know. Min- nie Fay. At this the lady looked at the Baron with utter horror. I want her. Shes not at home, said the lady. Well, really, its too bad. I must see her. Is she out? Yes. Really? Honor bright now The lady retired and shut the door. Well, darn it all, you neednt be so pep- pery, muttered the Baron. I didnt say any thing. I only asked a civil question. Out, hey? Well, she must be this time. If shed been in, shed have made her appearance. Well, Id best go out and hunt her up. They dont seem to me altogether so cordial as Id like to have them. Theyre just a leetle too risto- cratic. With these observations to himself, the Bar- on descended the stairs, and made his way to the door. Here he threw an engaging smile upon the servant, and made a remark which set the other on the broad grin for the remainder of the day. After this the Baron took his de- parture. The Baron this time went to some stables, and reappeared in a short time mounted upon a gallant steed, and careering down the Corso. In due time he reached the Piazza del Popolo, and then he ascended the Pincian Hill. Here he rode about for some time, and finally his perseverance was rewarded. He was looking down from the summit of the hill upon the Pi- azza below, when he caught sight of a barouche, in which were three ladies. One of these sat on the front seat, and her white face and short gold- en hair seemed to indicate to him the one he sought. In an instant he put spurs to his horse, and rode down the hill as quick as possible, to the great alarm of the crowds who were going up and down. In a short time he had caught up with the carriage. He was right. It was the right one, and Minnie was there, together with Lady Dalrymple and Mrs. Willoughby. The ladies, on learning of his approach, exhibited no emotion. They were prepared for this, and re- signed. They had determined that Minnie should have no more interviews with him in- doors; and since they could not imprison her altogether, they would have to submit for the present to his advances. Bnt they were rapidly becoming desperate. Lord Hawbury was riding by the carriage as the Baron came up. Hallo ! said he to the former. How do? and how are you all? Why, Ive been hunting all over creation. Well, Minnie, how goes it? Peel lively? Thats right. Keep out in the open air. Take all the exercise you can, and eat as hard as you can. You live too quiet as a general thing, and want to knock around more. But well fix all that, wont we, Mm, before a month of Sundays ? The advent of the Baron in this manner, and his familiar address to Minnie, filled Hawbury with amazement. He had been surprised at finding him with the ladies on the previous day, but there was nothing in his demeanor which was at all remarkable. Now, however, he no- ticed the very great familiarity of his tone and manner toward Minnie, and was naturally amazed. The Baron had not confided to him his secret, and he could not understand the cause of such intimacy between the representa- tives of such different classes. He therefore list- ened with inexpressible astonishment to the Bar- ons language, and to Minnies artless replies. Minnie was sitting on the front seat of the barouche, and was alone in that seat. As the gentlemen rode on each side of the carriage her face was turned toward them. Hawbury rode back, so that he was beside Lady Dalrym- ple; but the Baron rode forward, on the other side, so as to bring himself as near to Minnie as possible. The Baron was exceedingly hap- py. His happiness showed itself in the flush of his face, in the glow of his eyes, and in the general exuberance and all-embracing swell of his manner. His voice was loud, his gestures demonstrative, and his remarks were ~ddressed by turns to each one in the company. The others soon gave up the attempt to talk, and left it all to the Baron. Lady Dalrymple and Mrs. Willoughby exchanged glances~of despair. Hawbury still looked on in surprise, while Min- nie remained perfectly calm, perfectly self-pos- sessed, and conversed with her usual simplicity. As the party thus rode on they met a horse- man, who threw a rapid glance over all of them. It was Girasole. The ladies bowed, and Mrs. Willoughby wished that he had come a little before, so that he could have taken the place beside the carriage where the Baron now was. But the place was now appropriated, and thore was no chance for the Count. Girasole threw a dark look over them, which rested more partic- ularly on Ilawbury. Hawbury nodded lightly at the Count nnd didnt appear to take any further notice of him. All this took up but a few moments, and the Count passed on. Shortly after they met another horseman. He sat erect, pale, sad, with a solemn, earnest glow in his melancholy eyes. Minnies back was turned toward him, so that she could not see his face, but his eyes were fixed upon Mrs. Willoughby. She looked back at him and bowed, as did also Lady Dalrymple. He took off his hat, and the carriage rolled past. Then he turned and looked after it, bareheaded, and Minnie caught sight of him, and smiled and bowed. And then in a few moments more the crowd swallowed up Scone Dacres. THE AMERICAN BARON. 75 The Baron thus enjoyed himself in a large, exuberant fashion, and monopolized the con- versation in a large, exuberant way. He out- did himself. He confided to the ladies his plans for the regeneration of the Roman Church and the Roman State. He told stories of his adventures in the Rocky Mountains. He men- tioned the state of his finances, and his pros- pects for the future, lie was as open, as free, and as communicative as if he had heen at home, with fond sisters and admiring brothers around him. The ladies were disgusted at it all; and by the ladies I mean only Mrs. Willoughby and ILady Dalrymple. For Minnie was notshe actually listened in delight. It was not con- ventional. Very well. Neither was the Bar on. And for that matter, neither was she. He was a child of nature. So was she. His rudeness, his aggressiveness, his noise, his talk- ativeness, his egotism, his confidences about himselfall these did not make him so very disagreeable to her as to her sister and aunt. So Minnie treated the Baron with the utmost complaisance, and Hawbury was surprised, and Mrs. Willoughby and Lady Dalrymple were dis- gusted; but the Baron was delighted, and his soul was filled with perfect joy. Too soon for him was this drive over. But the end came, and they reached the hotel. Hawbury left them, but the Baron lingered. The spot was too sweet, the charm too dearhe could not tetir himself away. In fact, he actually followed the ladies into the house. I think Ill just make myself comfortable in here, Mm, till you come down, said the Baron. And with these words he walked into the reception-room, where he selected a place on a sofa, and composed himself to wait pa- tiently for Minnie to come down. So he waited, and waited, and waitedbut Minnie did not come. At last he grew impa- tient. He walked out, and up the stairs, and listened. He heard ladies voices. He spoke. Mm ! No answer. MIN! louder. No answer. MIN! HALLO-O-O-O No answer. a perfect shout. At this a door was opened violently, and Mrs. Willoughby walked out. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glanced fire. Sir, she said, this is intolerable! You must be intoxicated. Go away at once, or I shall certainly have you turned out of the house. And saying this she went back, shut the door, and locked it. The Baron was thunder-struck, lie had never been treated so in his life. He was cut to the heart. His feelings were deeply wounded. Darn it ! he muttered. Whats all this for? I aint been doing any thing. He walked out very thoughtfully. He couldnt understand it at all. He was troubled for some time. But at last his buoyant spirit rose su- perior to this temporary depression. To-mor- row would explain all, he thought. Yes, to- morrow would make it all right. To-morrow he ~vould see Mm, and get her to tell him.what in thunder the row was. Shed have to tell, for he could never find out. So he made up his mind to keep his soul in patience. That evening Hawbury was over at the Bar- ons quarters, by special invitation, and the Baron decided to ask his advice. So in the course of the evening, while in the full, easy, and confidential mood that arises out of social intercourse, he told Ilawbury his whole story beginning with the account of his first meeting with Minnie, and his rescue of her, and her ac- ceptance of him, down to this very day, when he had been so terribly snubbed by Mrs. Wil- loughby. To all this Hawbury listened in amaze- ment. It was completely new to him. He ~von- dered particularly to find another man who had saved the life of this quiet, timid little girl. The Baron asked his advice, but Hawbury declined giving any. He said he couldnt ad- vise any man iu a love-affair. Every man must trust to himself. No ones advice could be of any avail. Hawbury, in fact, was puzzled, but he said the best he could. The Baron himself was fully of Hawburys opinion. He swore that it was truth, and declared the man that followed anothers advice iu a love-affair was a darned fool that didnt deserve to win his gal. There followed a general conversation on things of a different kind. The Baron again discoursed on church and state. He theu ex- hibited some curiosities. Among other things a skull. He used it to hold his tobacco. He declared that it was the skull of an ancient Roman. On the inside was a paper pasted there, on which he had written the following: Oh, Im the skull of a Roman bold That fit in the ancient war; From East to West I bore the flag Of S. P. Q. and R. In East and West, and North and South, We made the nations fear us~i- Both Nebuchadnezzar and Hannibal, And Pharaoh too, and Pyrrhus. We took their statutes from the Greeks, And lots of manuscripts too; We set adrift on his world-wide tramp The original wandering Jew. But at last the beggarly Dutchman came, With his lager and sauerkraut; And wherever that beggarly Dutchman went He made a terrible rout. Wo ist der Deutschers Vaterland? Is it near the ocean wild? Is it where the feathery palm-trees grow? Not there, not there, my child. But its somewhere down around the Rhine; And now that Bismareks come, Down goes Napoleon to the ground, And away goes the Pope from Rome HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. THE HORRORS OF SAN DOMINGO. CUBA is called the Queen of the Antilles. President of our republic sent a commission Close by her throue, aud nearer the morn- there to spy out its attractions, i has been a iug sun, sits the right roy~ 1 princess, San Do- coveted spot. mingo, not less rich, beautiful, and seductive, For almost se ~enty years the civilized world and sharing with her Majesty the wooings of has held the negro population of that island to suitors. be only restrained human fiends, whose race That famous island, fertile in every thing was vholly responsible for those terrible events that grows in the tropics, abounding in metals there vaguely comprehende under the title of and minerals, with broad valleys and sunny sa- the horrors of San Domingo. It has been vannas of exquisite beauty, and mountains ris- the ungenerous task of a class of writers and ing sometimes more than seven thousand feet speakers in this country, fins the time of the above the bosom of the ocean, and covered Ninth Congress, to alarm the timid and unin- with magnificent forests of the richest cabinet formed people with the cry of horrors of San woods, is blessed with a salubrity of climate Domingo ~henever a proposition was made to which makes existence there a perfect joy. educate the slaves, or to elevate them to the From the moment when Columbus discov- dignity of free sen and citizens. They have ered that island, and the inhabitants believed declaimed eheusently about the natural fe- he had descended fros the skies, until the rocity of the negro when left to uncontrolled 76

HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. THE HORRORS OF SAN DOMINGO. CUBA is called the Queen of the Antilles. President of our republic sent a commission Close by her throue, aud nearer the morn- there to spy out its attractions, i has been a iug sun, sits the right roy~ 1 princess, San Do- coveted spot. mingo, not less rich, beautiful, and seductive, For almost se ~enty years the civilized world and sharing with her Majesty the wooings of has held the negro population of that island to suitors. be only restrained human fiends, whose race That famous island, fertile in every thing was vholly responsible for those terrible events that grows in the tropics, abounding in metals there vaguely comprehende under the title of and minerals, with broad valleys and sunny sa- the horrors of San Domingo. It has been vannas of exquisite beauty, and mountains ris- the ungenerous task of a class of writers and ing sometimes more than seven thousand feet speakers in this country, fins the time of the above the bosom of the ocean, and covered Ninth Congress, to alarm the timid and unin- with magnificent forests of the richest cabinet formed people with the cry of horrors of San woods, is blessed with a salubrity of climate Domingo ~henever a proposition was made to which makes existence there a perfect joy. educate the slaves, or to elevate them to the From the moment when Columbus discov- dignity of free sen and citizens. They have ered that island, and the inhabitants believed declaimed eheusently about the natural fe- he had descended fros the skies, until the rocity of the negro when left to uncontrolled 76 THE HORRORS OF SAN DOMINGO. 77 fi eedom of action, and pointed to the horrors of San Domingo as an illustration. They have falsified history by representing the patriot and martyr Toussaint LOuverture, the black gen- eral-in-chief of San Domingo seventy years ago, as the high-priest at the altar of sacrifice, where- on perished thousands of innocent white people of the island. They have painted the conduct of the blacks there in the most hideous colors, without a pleasant tint to relieve the eye of the horrified beholder, while they have indicated in faintest outline the provocations which excited the negroes to savage deeds. They have care- fully concealed the fact that the horrors of San Domingo are quite as fairly chargeable to the natural ferocity of the white race as to that of the negro race. I propose to illustrate that fact in this paper by an inside view of affairs in that island at the beginning of this centurypartly given me by oral communica- tions from the late Admiral Charles Stewart, of our navy, in the summer of 1863, and partly by a series of letters from Cape Fran9ais (now Cape Haytien), written in the year 1802 by a Philadel- phia lady to Aaron Burr, then Vice-President of the United States. Stewart was then a midship- man in our navy, about twenty-three years of age, on duty in the West Indies, and on inti- mate terms with many of the French and creole officers at the Cape. A glance at the antecedent history of San Domingo seems necessary for an intelligent comprehension of the events at the period in question. Let us see. Almost as guileless as the cultivators of Eden in their purity, and as kind as good an- gels, were the inhabitants of San Domingowhen Spanish eyes first looked upon it, and Spanish lips first changed its aboriginal name of Hayti, or mountainous. These people, Columbus wrote for the ears of his sovereigns, love their neighbors as themselves; their discourse is ever sweet and gentle, and accompanied by a smile. I swear to your Majesties there is not in the world a better nation or a better land. The strange tidings spread through the Span- ish court. The Satan of Spanish avarice was aroused and coveted that goodly land, for there were rumors of gold among its lofty hills. In less than three years Spanish adventurers, by no means heavenly in their natures, were seat- ed upon the northern verge of the island; and in their eager haste for riches and vigorous search for gold they soon destroyed the loving natives, whom they made their slaves, by hard work and cruel treatment in the mines. This was the first of the horrors of San Domingo. Among the murderers was that Cort~z who afterward, in search of other mines and their products, carried unutterable woe into Mexico. Castilians took the place of the gentler people, and became numerous. They also grew rich upon the labor of other slavesnegroes from Africa. Two hundred years rolled away, and the Sa- tan of French covetousness looked wishfully upon the islandfrom afar. Galliebuccaneers, whohov- ered upon Tortugas, near, and upon the north- ern coasts of San Domingo, where their vices made them a disgrace to human nature, asked Louis the Fourteenth for government protec- tion in exchange for a part of their winnings in the profession of robbery. A governor was quickly sent, with a French flag, some French soldiers, and a few French cannon, and Louis took the bribe. The freebooters and the sol- diers took possession of the western portion of the island, and called it Hayti, the original name of the whole country. The Spaniards frown- ed, but to no purpose. The French had Might, the supple champion of royalty, on their side, and laughed at the impotent anger of the Cas- tilians. Immigrants came from France. Pop- ulation and wealth rapidly increased; and to- ward the close of another century one-half of the sugar used in Europe was made in San Domingo. When almost another century bad passed away since the buccaneer conquest the French portion of the island contained half a million souls. Of these a little more than thirty-eight thousand were white people, nearly twenty- eight thousnnd were free people of color, most- ly mulattoes, and the remainder were negro slaves. Many of the mulattoes owned large estates. Not a few had been liberally educated in France, and many households were models of elegance and refinement, wherein happily dwelt young Frenchmen with beautiful quad- roon wives. But the free people of color were excluded from all the political privileges accord- ed to the white inhabitants. When the revolutionary cry of liberty, equal- ity, and fraternity came over the sea from vol- canic France, the white islanders eagerly echoed it, and sent deputies to the National Assembly. The proscribed free people of color, stirred with a hope of emancipation, and equally loyal to the new government, asked to be admitted to the vaunted fraternity. Their demand was not only rejected with scorn, but the dusky Lacomb, who had been thought worthy of a place at the table of Counts Maurepas and Vergennes, in the moth- er country, was banged for his impertinence in presenting to the colonial Legislature of San Domingo a petition asking the rights of citizen- ship for his class; and pale Boudi~re was torn in pieces by a French mob for offering a similar petition in behalf of the proscribed race. Insult and outrage aroused the slumbering hatred of the mulattoes into fearful action. Vincent Og~, who in France had associated on terms of equality with Lafayette and his rev- olutionary compeers, soon stood at the head of a small armed force of mulattoes, and respect- fully but boldly demanded a recognition of the political equality of his mixed race, but did not go so far as to ask the like boon for the tens of thousands of the darker toilers there who were his brethren and bond-slaves. That ~vas in the autumn of 1790. Og~s aspirations, so mani- fested, were terribly punished. lie and his 78 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. brother were tortured to death by being broken upon a wheel in the most cruel manner, and a large number of his armed followers were mur- dered by order of the French authorities of the island. These horrors of San Domingo shocked the sensibilities of the European French, and the famous society of Les Amis (les Noirsthe Friends of the Blacksprocured a decree by the National Convention in May, 1791, which declared that the people of color in San Do- mingo born of free parents were entitled to all the privileges of French citizens. The mu- lattoes rejoiced, hut the intelligent slaves, who, inspired by the wild cry of freedom that came from the French democracy, had dared to hope for emancipation, were disappointed and made sullen because of the partiality shown to their mongrel brethren. The slave-holders were alarmed, for they saw In the decree a prelude to either general emancipation or fearful insur- rections, and they unwisely induced the colonial governor to suspend the operations of that de- cree until they could appeal to the home gov- ernment. This interference greatly exasperated the free colored population, and they were about to take up arms and kindle a fierce civil war, when a new element of trouble appeared. The slaves arose in insurrection, but were loth to affiliate with the mulattoes. The white people were alarmed beyond measure by the double menace, for it was an armed protest of more than 400,000 persons against the injustice of less than 40,000. The terrified French quickly consented to the demands of the mulattoes in order to keep them quiet and friendly, and the malcontents were peaceable for a while. That was in September, 1791. Meanwhile the voice of the planters against the decree of May had been potential in the National Assembly. The decree was repealed. When that unwelcome news reached San Do- mingo it created the most fearful agitation. The mulattoes flew to arms, and some of them speedily coalesced with the insurgent negroes. The French faced the terrible calamity with the greatest fortitude and courage, and so was begun a civil war which was carried on for sev- eral years with the greatest ferocity by both parties. At this juncture an extraordinary person emerged from obscurity. It was Francis Do- minique Toussaint, a negro of pure blood, and grandson of an African prince. He was a small, slender man, who was so thin in his boy- hood that he was called the little lath. He was now between forty and fifty years of age, and had been all his life a slave on the estate of the Count de Nod, whose manager, M. Bayou de Libertas, had educated him, and placed him in positions of trust. He was studious, thought- ful, and religious. He warmly sympathized with his enslaved race in their attitude of arm- ed combatants for their own freedom, lie had read with profound interest the Abbd Raynals essays on the multifarious evil effects of slavery, and h~td long pondered peaceful schemes for the emancipation of his race in San Domingo. He was yet powerfully impressed by Raynals pic- tures of the great wrong; and in the servile in- surrection which now invited his co-operation he thought he saw a way opened through a Red Sea by which his people might pass to a land of liberty. Toussaints soul glowed with an intense de- sire to assist in the liberation of his people, and so soon as he could secure the safety of M. Bayou, his benefactor, and that of his family and some personal property, he joined the in- surgent blacks. His delay had excited their suspicions and displeasure. They now received him with open arms. His knowledge of the medicinal properties of the flora of the island caused his immediate employment in the med- ical department. His military genius, hitherto unsuspected, was quickly developed, and he was promoted first to the staff of his chief, and then to the rank of a brigadier-general. It was not long before he was acknowledged to be supe- rior in martial ability to the other black com- manders, who were either incompetent or fero~- cions and cruel. Very soon San Domingo pre- sented a most pitiful spectacle. The beautiful princess of the Antilles was made to bleed from a thousand wounds. Her radiant beauty was marred by the iron heel of War, and her rich garments were trailed in the dust and cinders of fiery Discord. French commissioners were sent from time to time to quench the flames of civil war, if possible, by mediation; but they were unsuc- cessful. Even the white inhabitants, divided into royalist and republican factions as fierce as those in France, were irreconcilable ene- mies. The black leaders, regarding the Na- tional Convention as their foe, took the royalist side after the beheading of Louis the Sixteenth, in 1793, and, accepting.the proffered aid of the King of Spain, refused to listen to propositions from the republican government of France. Very soon new troubles appeared, which finally produced beneficent results. The Span- iards and the English invaded the western part of the island. The latter captured the whole western coast, seized Port-au-Prince, the cap- ital, and besieged the French governor, General Laveaux, and his troops in Port-de-Paix. This was the last stronghold held by the French, and it was in imminent danger, for the garrison was weakened by disease and famine. Woeful was now the plight of San Domingo! Englishmen, Frenchmen, Spaniards, mulattoes, and blacks were contending for the mastery. The latter were overwhelming in numbers; and when the English invasion was threatened, the French commissioners resolved to conciliate them by a proclamation of universal freedom. That was done in August, 1793. In February following the National Convention confirmed the acts of the commissioners, formally guaranteed the freedom of all the inhabitants of the French THE HORRORS OF SAN DOMINGO. 79 colony, and made Hayti an integral part of France. Toussaint, whose sole object in joining his insurgent people was to secure their freedom, saw in this guarantee of a great nation the only chance for the accomplishment of his holy pur- pose. He relied upon the faith of France. If her government in San Domingo should be firmly established, he believed that the emanci- pation of his race would he fully secured. He was then virtual commander-in-chief of the black forces. He openly declared his fealty to France, and formed a junction with the little army under the governor. So energetically and successfully did he work to bring all parties to the same conclusion that General Laveaux ex- claimed, Mais cet koiamefait ouverture partout But this man opens the way every where. From that time he was called by the name of LOuvertureThe Openingand he is known in history as Toussaint LOuverture. Toussaint now entered upon a campaign against the enemies of the French with great vigor. The English and Spanish united to op- pose him, and some of the mulattoes refused to join the blacks. But Toussaints troops (num- bering far less than the allies) looked upon him as almost an inspired leader, and followed him with enthusiasm. He won victories every where. The Spaniards were subdued, after a long con- test, and expelled; and in 1796 Toussaint was appointed by Sonthanax, the French commis- sioner, commander-in-chief of the whole island of San Domingo, which was then, by treaty, a French possession. In 1797 he drove the En- glish into the sea, and being then virtually gov- ernor of the whole insular domain, he restored peace and order, and took measures to establish the industries of the island upon a prosperous footing. Commerce and agriculture were re- vived; and, while he sought by just means to benefit his own race, the rights of the white peo- ple were scrupulously maintained. Their es- tates were restored, and their persons and prop- erty were proteoted. But while Toussaint was so laboring benevo- lently and patriotically, he was opposed and misrepresented by H~douville, a new commis- sioner, who became inter~sely jealous of the ne- gro chief because of his growing popularity. He sowed seeds of bitter discord between Tous- saint and Rigaud, the jealous and ambitious leader of the mulattoes, whom he officially freed from the control of the general-in-chief, and so prepared the elements of another civil war. Having thoroughly rooted this mischieg H~dou- ville hastened to France, and laid complaints against Toussaint before the Directory. The general had already sent a true statement of the condition of public affairs on the island, which the government accepted. Toussaint was justified, and H~douville was censured. But the civil war broke out, and raged fearful- ly between the blacks and mulattoes nearly the whole of the year 1799, when the latter were snbdued, and their chief fled to France. In this work Toussaint ~vas ably helped by Des- salines, a native of Guinea, who, though unedu- cated, had been raised to the rank of lieutenant- general. He was brave, active, and cruel, and thousands of the mulattoes were slaughtered by his orders, in spite of the remonstrances of Tous- saint. The new French commissioner in place of H~douviile was treacherous to France, San Do- mingo, and humanity. He was in secret league with the planters in devising means for the re- establishment of slavery, and he attempted to give official countenance to the slave-trade. Toussaint, satisfied that his presence was dan- gerous to the peace of his country, sent him to France, and late in 1800 took possession of the eastern part of the island, whose inhabitants were yet in allegiance to Spain. He assumed the government of all San Domingo, and was working wisely and successfully in the estab- lishment of a happy and prosperous republic, when a blow from an unexpected quarter de- stroyed all his bright hopes of liberty, equality, and fraternity for his race in the Antilles. Toussaint had proceeded to organize a civil government by choosing an administrative coun- cil composed of nine men, eight of whom were white proprietors of estates, and one was a mu- latto. He also determined to establish a con- stitutional government. An admirable instru- ment for that purpose was drawn up by his council, in which he was named president for life; the authority of France was acknowledged; no distinction was made between the citizens on account of race or color; and free trade was established. This constitution Toussaint sent, with an autograph letter, to Bonaparte, then First Consul of Francein other words, an al- most irresponsible dictator by the grace of bay- onets. The usurpers court was then beset by swarms of refugee planters clamoring loudly for the restoration of slavery in San Domingo. His wife, Josephine, a native of the Antilles, was an eloquent pleader for their cause. The treaty of peace at Amiens had just closed the Conti- nental war, and there were thousands of unem- ployed soldiers ready to oppose the ambitious designs of the selfish adventurer. He had won no renown in Hayti, for the black race there had achieved, their freedom without his counte- nance. The praises bestowed upon Toussaint as a military leader aroused that mean jealousy of rivals in applause for which Bonaparte was conspicuous; and the comparisons which had been freely drawn between him and the black hero excited his cruel animosity. His haughty pride was offended because Toussaint had es- tablished a government and was made ruler for life, without previous suggestions from the Corsican. On considering these things Bonaparte re- solved to please the Haytian planters, employ dangerous soldiers, and crush the great black leader, who was innocently sharing with him the worlds applause. So when Vincent, the bearer of Toussaints constitution to the pres 80 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. ence of the First Consul, laid it before him, Bo- napartes instant and angry reply was, lie is a revolted slave whom we must Punish. The honor of France is outraged. His obsequious council, or legislature, of Paris, passed an act, and he issued a decree, for the restoration of the French colonies to their condition before the year 1789. This would re-establish slavery in San Domingo, and blot out the name of Tons- saint LOuverture from the list of ruling magis- trates. Bonapartes chosen instrument for the com- mission of his xheditat~d crime in San Domingo was his brother-in-law, General Le Clerc. He was a man of brilliant genius, small in stature, and winning in deportment, and had lately mar- ried Bonapartes favorite sister, the beautiful and fascinating Pauline, to whom the First Con- sul had given San Domingo as a marriage-por- tion. With almost thirty thousand veteran troops and full sixty war vessels he sailed for San Domingo late ia 1801, taking with him his wife and infant boy. Among his commanders were Higaud, the fugitive mulatto just mention- ed, and Boyer and Petion, also mulattoes, and all sons of French planters ia San Domingo, who had them educated in France. They were ene- mies of Toussaint, and eager to deprive him of his well-earned power. The expedition arrived on the coast of San Domingo in January, 1802. Without making a formal declaration of ivar, Le Clerc, confident in his strength, attempted to enter Cape Fran- ~ais (now Cape Haytien), on the northern coast of the island, while his ships blocked the mouth of the harbor. The Cape, as it was usually call- ed, was then a fine city of about twenty thou- sand inhabitants, chiefly French and creoles. Christophe, a pure negro, and formerly a slave, was then one of the most trusted of Toussaints commanders. He was governorof that northern province, and was in the city when the invaders appeared and demanded an instant surrender of the place. Christophe asked for two days de- lay, that he might consult Toussaint, when Le Clerc contemptuously granted him but half an hour. Anticipating this, Christophe had, the day before, sent all the white men out to the plain in the rear of the city, where they might be watched by his black trool)s. Now he mount- ed his horse, and rode through the town, order- ing the women and children to flee to the mount- ains near by, for he was going to burn the city. The scene that follo~ved this order was a most pitiable one, according to the account of Admi- ral Stewart, ~vho was there. The women, seiz- ing such light articles of value as they could carry away, were seen hurrying with children in their arms, and sometimes little frightened flocks following, while others were supporting the tot- tering steps of mothers and grandmothers, as all climbed in crowds the mountain that rises im- mediately behind the city. Toilsome and l)eril- ous was that flight among sharp rocks and sharp- er brambles, where no path had ever been beat- en. Many a tender foot left its print upon leaves or stones in blood. Many who had never known hunger or thirst were soon tortured by their in- satiate demands; and all were oppressed with the most dreadful anxieties for the fate of their fathers, brothers, husbands, and sons, who were in the hands of the blacks on the plain. These horrors were heightened by the smoke and flame of the conflagration of the city, which Christophe had kindled with his own hands. Still more hor- rible was the effect of the explosion of a mag- azine near the summit of the heights, by which large masses of rocks were detached, and xvent thundering down the side of the mountain, making fearful lanes through the thick ranks of the fugitives, maiming and killing scores of them. Two days afterward the blacks evacu- ated the place, and the French fleet entered the harbor. French troops marched into the town, and the white people on the plain and the mount- ain flocked in, and filled the air with voices of lamentation over their smoking homes. It was soon after this calamity had fallen upon Cape Fran~ais that the fair correspondent of Burr al- luded to, with her sister, the wife of a creole officer, arrived and took up her abode in one of the many dwellings which the fire had spared. Le Cleres confidence in what he supposed to be his overwhelming military strength was soon dissipated. He found unexpected resistance at all points, instead of meek submission. Tous- saint had able assistants in the field; and his people, now compelled to battle for their own freedom again, presented most formidable an- tagonists. The French general was made to doubt the ability of his force to execute the crime ordered by his master, and so, under in- structions from that master, ~vh o had provided for such a contingency, Le Clere resorted to the arts of low diplomacy, in which intrigue, cun- ning, falsehood, and dissimulation are prime elements. He had brought with him, as hos- tages, two sons of Toussaint, who had been educated in France. These were sent to their father with a letter from Bonaparte and another from Le Clere, in both of which were mingled flattery and menace. It was hoped that these letters and the influence of the sons might in- duce the black chieftain to submit. On the contrary, he was made more determined by the shallow covering of foul dishonesty. He loved his sons tenderly, but he loved his country more than they or his own life, and he would not sacrifice it for any earthly consideration. He refused to listen to any proposition that involved the re-enslavement of his race, and he sent back his sons ~vith a refusal to negotiate except on terms of absolute freedom for his people. The baffled and irritated Le Clere now de- clared Toussaint and his generals to be outlaws. Fearful and destructive conflicts ensued, in which full one-third of the French forces engaged were killed or wounded. The French seized the sea- ports; but the blacks held the mountains from whose fastnesses dusky guerrilla bands under Dessalines swooped down and destroyed the in- vaders in detail. It was soon evident that the THE HORRORS OF SAN DOMINGO. Si black islanders could not be subdued by arms, to bring his wife with bim. Toussaint, unsus- and finesse was again resorted to. A truce was picious of any thing wrong, went. It was early concluded, and a new decree went forth that San in June, 1802. His wife and daughter accom- Domingo should be excepted from the oper- panied him. He was cordially received. After ations of the act which restored the French cob- a short conversation Brunet left the room, when nies to their condition before 1789. This was armed men entered, seized Toussaint, and, un- intended to serve a temporary purpose. But der cover of midnight darkness, put him on the trick was successful in the hands of Le Clere, board of a French frigate, under a strong guard. who, at the same time, sought to win over to His family were also seized and forced on board the French interest the black generals. He be- the same vessel, and his house was plundered gan with the powerful Christophe. With the of all its valuable property. This outrage oc- most solemn assurances of sincerity he told that curred on the night of the arrival of Burrs cor- leader, in the name of Bonaparte, that the free- respondent at the Cape. This event, she dom of the blacks should be perpetual, and that said, caused great rejoicing. The conse- personal honors and emoluments awaited him quences were terrible. on his submission. He convinced him that with After the abduction of Toussaint a general the guarantee of freedom for the blacks there disarming of the negroes began. The excite- was no longer a cause for war. The chief was meat among theta because of the perfidy of the deceived and yielded. Dessalines, who was more French ~vas intense. There were some slight susceptible to flattery and promises of personal insurrections, which were only precursors of a honors and indulgences, was easily persuaded to terrific hurricane that followed. The negroes lay down his arms. To secure his fidelity he were weak in resources; but the increasing heat was made a French general, and governor of the aided them, for the French soldiers could not en- southern portion of the island, where he lived dure it. Every day the number of insurgents in great state and sensual indulgence. He in- increased, while the yellow fever, seizing the trigued against Toussaint, and served La Clerc French troops, almost decimatcd the regiments. with the most obsequious cheerfulness. The blacks contemplated its progress with joy, Toussasat was finally approached by the as a manifestation that God was fighting for tempter. He was assured that if he would con- them. I-lad Christophe and Dessalines led sent to pence and submission the liberty of the them, they ~vould have made short work of people of San Domingo would be secured; and their oppressors. But the latter was then one with the most solemn oaths Le Clerc promised of La Clercs most efficient instruments of cm- to leave the government of the island in that elty. When, in August, Charles Bellair, a chieftains hands, and he himself he only a rep- nephew of Toussaint, rose in insurrection on resentative of France by his side. Ha assured the heights of Artihonite, Dessalines, at the in- him that Isis black officers should be employed stance of La Clerc, treacherously enticed him according to their rank, and his black troops to his camp, and then had him murdered, with should be placed upon a footing of equality with his wife and three hundred followers. those of France. Le Clerc was equally cruel, and as his power Toussaint, deceived by La Cleres apparent became less, and his case more desperate, he candor and liberality, accepted his offers for appeared at times almost fiendish in his treat- the army and people, but refused to retain meat of the unresisting negroes. Many, only office for himself. And when, at the personal suspected of intentions to rebel, were put into interview that followed, the black chieftain vessels, the captains of which were instructed severely upbraided the French commander for to throw them overboard when out at sea. 0th- causing such misery in his country by making er ships were prepared on purpose for their de- war without first seeking a conference, Le struction. The prisoners were placed in the Clere, with well-feigned humility, acknowl- hold, the hatches were closed, and sulphur was edged his fault, asked forgiveness, praised the burned below so as to suffocate the poor wretch- generalship of his antagonist, and lauded his es. This atrocity the French openly avowed, ability as a statesman. And so peace was re- and with their accustomed levity and gayety stored. Toussaint retired to his estate, not far they called the act departir en suertransport from Gonaives, and there, by precept and ax- ing into the sea. They also burned them over ample, he began to teach Isis people to forget slow fires, and in every way tortured them most their calamities and engage in the arts of peace. mercilessly. These cruelties made the loyalty Bonaparte was not satisfied. His animosity to the French of Dessalines, Christophe, and against Toussaint could only be appeased by other black chiefs of short duration. It was the destruction of the black patriot and the re- ended when, as Dassalines afterward solemnly enslavement of his race. He ordered La Clere declared, the French officers actually proposed to abduct him and send him to France. This to the negro chiefs to massacre the whole pop- was a difficult and perilous task. He found no ulation of San Domingo, that the island might excuse in the conduct of Toussaint to warrant, be colonized anew with natives of France! This his arrest; so he ordered General Bmunet to extermination of half a million of peoplemen, write him a friendly letter, and invite him to women, and childrenseemed to these men to come to Gonaives for an hours conference in be only a common act of policy. It was policy relation to the welfare of the black troops, and from beginning to end that impelled Bonaparte VOL. XLIILNo. 253.6 62 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. the real author of these new horrors of San Domingoin his career of ruffianism in Eu- rope, to lead a million and a quarter of men to slaughter. Is it surprising that the black chiefs, compelled to listen to such an infernal sugges- tion, should have harhored the most inveterate hatred of men pretending to be governed hy a superior civilization, who were not ashamed to propose acts that the most unrestrained savages would shrink from with horror? And when dreadful retaliation and retribution followed awful cruelty and oppression, the hypocritical cant of French writers was abominable. They called the very men whom they tried to use as instruments of death and desolation ferocious Africans andhorrible barbarians. It is from the pens of such men that ~ve are indebted fer the popular impression concerning the horrors of San Domingo. While the cruelties of the French were ex- asperating the blacks, Le Clere and his com- panions were disgusting the creolesthe native- horn inhabitants descended from the French by their extrixagance, avarice, and haughtiness. They placed every position of trust in the hands of Europeans, appeared to regard the island as a place to he conquered and divided among the victors, and openly avowed that their chief desire was to make a fortune, and return to France as speedily as possible to enjoy it. The French officers lived in magnificent style, and displayed, in the midst of the terrible desola- tion and impending perils, the thoughtlessness, vices, and gayety of the French metropolis. Le Clere actually caused gold and silyer coin that had been provided for the pay of the army to he melted and formed into a superb service of plate for the gratification of himself and his coquettish, frivolous, and vain wife, who was constantly sighing for the delights of Paris, from which she had been drawn against her will. Meanwhile the poor soldiers, badly clothed, and still more badly fed, were asking alms in the streets, and some were actually starving from want. A beggar had never been seen in that country before, and their wretched appearance, as they swarmed in the streets, shocked the in- habitants, and drew forth bitter comments on the heartlessness of their commander-in-chief. But he did not seem to imagine that there could be any distress while he was enjoying the de- lights of French cookery with silver dishes. The imperious Pauline was equally unpopu- lar. She had been accustomed to hourly adu- lation and the most obsequious attentions, as a heautiful woman and the favorite sister of the ruler of France. She was offended because the ladies of the Cape (restrained on account of having lost their fine clothing in the late con- flagration) did not immediately pay homage to her; and she passed much of her time in indo- lent dalliance with her lap-dog or some favor- ite among her husbands officers. Having heard of the arrival of American ladies at the Cape, and excited by curiosity, she expressed a desire to have them call upon her, expecting to see beautiful demi-savages that would realize her romantic dreams. They ~vent, escorted to the door by Midshipman Stewart and a lieutenant of the American navy. One of the ladies, in her letter to Burr, gave him the following vivid picture of Madame Le Clere: She was in a room darkened hy Venetian hlinds, lying on her sofa covered with blue satin with silver fringe, from which she half rose to receive us. When we were seated she reclined again on the sofa, and amused General Boyer, who sat at her feet, by letting her slipper fall continually, ~vhich he respectfully l)ut on as often as it fell. She is small, fair, with blue eyes and flaxen hair. Her face is expressive of sweetness, but without spirit. She has a voluptuous mouth, and is rendered interesting by an air of languor which spreads itself over her whole frame. She ~vas dressed in a muslin morning-gown, with a Madras handkerchief on her head. I gave her one of the beautiful medals of Washington, engraved by Reich (who is employed by the Mint), ~vith which she seemed much pleased. The conversation languished, and we soon withdrew. Madame Le Clere, as I learned from a gentleman who has long known her, betrayed from her earliest youth a disposition to gal- lantry, and had, when very young, some ad- ventures of ~clat at Marseilles She has one childa lovely boy, two years oldof which she appears very fond. But for a young and hean- tiful woman, accustomed to the sweets of adula- tion and the intoxicating delights of Paris, cer- tainly the transition to this country, in its pres- ent state, has heen too violent. She has no so- ciety, no amusement; and never having imag- ined that she would be forced to seek an equiva- lent for either in the resources of her own mind, she has made no provision for such an unseen emergency. She hates reading, and though passionately fond of music, plays on no instru- ment, never having stolen time from her pleas- urable pursuits to devote to the acquisition of that divine art. She can do nothing hut dance; and to dance alone is a triste resource; therefore it can not be surprising if her early propensities predominate, and she listens to the tale of love breathed by General Boyer, for never did a more fascinating votary offer his vows at the Idalian shrine. his form and face are models of masculine perfection, his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, and his voice is modu- lated by a sweetness of expression which can not be heard without emotion. I suppose you will laugh at this gossip, but tis the news of the day. Nothing is talked of but Madame Le Clere, and envy and ill-nature pursue her be- cause she is charming and surrounded by splen- dor. We have observed that the loyalty of the black chiefs to the French was of short dura- tion. The cruelty of the French officers soon excited a general insurrection, and Christophe, Dessalines, and Clerveaux speedily appeared at the head of the insurgents. They invested the THE HORRORS OF SAN DOMINGO. 83 Cape, Le Cleres head-quarters, and held all the plain and the mountains, while the French troops were rapidly wasting away in the fires of yellow fever. fhe insurgents at length at- tacked the Cape, and would have overcome the enfeebled garrison had not the creole National Guard and American officers and seamen in the town assisted. The negroes werc driven back, but lost no ground. They only occupied their recent positions. Le Clerc was now thoroughly alarmed, and his innate cowardicethe companion of cruelty was conspicuous. He saw that all his plans of diplomacy and ferocity for a rehabilitation of the island had utterly failed, and that the vengeance of the negroes hung like a black thunder-cloud over his head. A fe~v months before h~ had written a pompons letter to Bonaparte, declaring that he had subdued the island. Now he thought only of his own safe- ty. He sent his plate and other valuable i~~r- erty on board the admirals ship on the night after the attack on the town, and was preparing to abandon his fever-smitten soldiers and the inhabitants, and embark secretly with his suit his wife, and child. The gallant Admiral La Fouche sent him word that he would fire with inure pleasure on those who abandoned the town than on those who attacked it. The streets were then resonant avith the groans of the wounded and dying, and the wailings of their families; but the cowardly general-in-chief, unmindful of the miseries around him, caused by his wickedness, shut himself up in his house and refused to see any body. The fever seized him, and at the cud of three days he was dead. That event oc- curred early in November, 1802. Pauline, who had never loved her husband while he was liv- ing, mourned his death most theatrically. Like the Ephesian matron, she cut off her very beautiful hair and cast it in the coffin with the embalmed body. She refused sustenance and consolation; and after starving herself nearly twenty-four hours, she put her jewels and other valuable articles, with her Ilaxen tresses, in the tciple coffin for safety, dried her tears with her elegant Madras handkerchief, went on board of a French frigate, and sailed away joyfully for France. It was not long be- fore she appeared in the gayest circles of the voluptuous capital ; and two years later she married the Prince Borghese, one of the wealthiest and most accomplished men of It- aly, from whom her follies soon separated her. From his solitude in his house Le Clere had sent sealed instructions to General Ro- chambean, then at Port-au-Prince, to take command of all the troops on the island. At the same time the citizens of the Cape, alarm- ed by the conduct of Le Clere, sent for the same officer. He arrived very soon after the generals death, and was greeted by the boom- ing of cannon and the shouts of the people. He was a son of the Count de Rochambean, the ally of Washington on the Virginia penin sula, in 1781. He was past fifty years of age, handsome, gay, and attractive. The people expected much benefit from the change, but were disappointed. Rochambean was rapa- cious, licentious, and cruel. He regarded the creole population as the rightful ministers to his passions, and the negroes as proper sub- jects to become victims to his brutal instincts. He was overbearing and exacting toward the creoles, and devilish in his treatment of the blacks. He often levied contributions of mon- ey upon the former to support his extravagant and profligate living, in which he outdid Le Clere. These burdens usually fell upon per- sons who had incurred the tyrants displeasure. One of his victims, mentioned by Burrs corre- spondent, was an accomplished young creole, whose beautiful wife the general coveted, and avhose sharp resentment he had felt. At ten oclock one morning Rochambean ordered the outraged husband to pay into the public treas- ury, on pain of death, $20,000 before three oclock in the afternoon. The money could not be raised by the victim himself, nor his friends, and before sunset he was in his grave shot by a file of soldiers. The horror- stricken people dared not utter a word of re- monstrance, and for some time there was a reign of terror. The creoles found that the army that had been sent for their protection was a fearful oppressor. The French used their houses and servants without leave and without recompense. The oppressed people wished for a return of the reign of Toussaint, for they were far less vexed by the blacks than by the French soldiers. Rochambeans trcatment~f the negroes was far more ferocious than that of Le Clere. He burned, hanged, drowned, and tortured them by scores, sparing none on account of age or sex, lie tortured to death Maurepas, the negro general, and his whole family; and he suffocated with smoke women and children, negro refugees from his wrath, concealed in a cave in the mountains. These atrocities set the negro population in a blaze of fury. They attacked the French posts every wherd on the coast, sometimes with success and sometimes without, and Dessalines began a war of exter- mination. He erected five hundred gibbets, and hung upon them half a French regiment that fell into his hands. He refused to give quarter every where, and the most terrible butcheries marked his course. Meanwhile Rochambeau was growing weak- e~ and weaker. Sickness and battle were thin- ning the ranks of his soldiers most fearfully. They were no longer able to go out from their fortifications to fight their assailants. Upon these fortifications they relied for protection, and upon the open harbors as avenues for sup- plies. Rochambean also looked with hope for promised reinforcements, but they came slow- ly, and his avenues for supplies were suddenly closed. Bonaparte had perfidiously broken the peace of Amiens, and England was again at war 84 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. with France. Her war ships blockaded the ports of San Domingo, and so aided the blacks, who had full possession of the whole interior. That aid the English now gave cheerfully, as a war policy, notwithstanding the British govern- inent had repeatedly declared, only the year before, that no force that France could keep on San Domingo would be half so dangerous to the interests of the British West India colonies and of Great Britain as the existence of a black independent empire or republic. England ab- horred slavery in the abstract, but that institu- tion among her subjects must not be endan- gered. The French were soon reduced to great dis- tress, and Rochambean was compelled to con- fine his defense to the Cape. The British cruisers intercepted his supplies, and the pesti- lence continued its fearful work. The victori- ous blacks, led by Dessalines, as chief, and Chris- tophe and Clerveaux as his lieutenants, were pressing on in large numbers toward that last stronghold of their merciless foe. They soon captured allits outposts,with strongFort Picolet. Despairing of success in a sortie, and unable to hold out much longer against famine and the fever, Rochambean resolved to capitulate, on the terms of being allowed to carry off the gar- rison. This was about to he effected, when the British squadron, doubtless by Rochambeaus invitation, came into the harbor, when it was agreed that the French war ships and merchant vessels should be surrendered to the English ad- miral, and that the garrison should pass into the same hands as prisoners of war. So it was that the French escaped the fury of the insurgents. Dessalines ~vas disappointed; but after much hesitation he agreed not to disturb the French in their evacuation of the town. But when the troops were all embarked, and the French ves- sels that bore them tarried for favorable winds, it required all the persuasions of the British officers to prevent his opening the guns of the fortifications he had taken possession of upon them, and sending them and their hated pas- sengers to the bottom of the waters of the har- bor. At length he declared that if they did not quit the roads within twelve hours he would no longer keep his cannon silent. They de- parted, and then Dessalines, Christophe, and Clerveaux united in a proclamation, declaring the island free and independent of France. They promised protection to the white land- owners who chose to remain upon their estates and renounce their prejudices, but threaten- ed inexorable cruelty to those who should agmiin talk of restoring the system of slavery. The expulsion of the French occurred in De- cember, 1803. On the first of the following month the Ilaytian republic was proclaimed, and the army elected Dessalines Governor-Gen ed in the blood of the innocent; and when Des- salines fell under the assassins stroke he left San Domingo a desolated and ruined though an independent state. Bonapartes crime against human nature in attempting to re-establish slav- ery in San Domingo had resulted in the perish- ing there of 20,000 French soldiers and nearly 60,000 white inhabitants. Such is an outline picture of the causes and character of the horrors of San Domingo. One more horror remains to be added to the catalogue of the crimes of Bonaparte. We have seen that Toussaint LOuverture was forcibly carried away to France by order of the First Consul. The vessel that bore him arrived at Brest in August, where he was placed in the hands of the police, separated from his wife and daughter forever, berried off to Paris under a strong guard, and thrown into prison, lie was denied an interview with Bo- naparte or his ministers. He asked in vain what was the cause of his arrest. Without a trial he was speedily taken to the castle of St. Joux, in the department of Doub, and locked in its dungeons, damp with the mould of many scores of years. There, in solitary confine- ment, without fire, with only glimmerings of light, with insufficient clothing, and daily food less than physicians pronounced sufficient to sustain life, the brave martyr, sixty years of age, was murdered by the slow torture of hun- ger and cold, by order of the liberticide about to assumb the huperial purple. In vain he pe- titioned in touching words for a trial. The only notice he ever received from his persecutor was when he sent his Corsican secretary, Caffa- relli, to demand of Toussaint where he had buried his treasure in San Domingo. I have lost something more precious than money, was the meek and only reply of the famished prisoner. Then, seeing no hope for relief but in death, Toussaint began to prepare a writ- ten defense as well as his failing strength would allow. It was the weary work of dark winter days in the dim twilight of a dungeon cell. Lie sent it to the First Consul at the ides of March, 1803, but it received no notice. The venerable patriot was becoming troublesome by his impertinent appeals for justice, and orders were given to his jailer to reduce his pittance of food, that sharper starvation might quickly paralyze his hand and heart and brain. That jailerthe governor of the castlewent away for four days, late in April, leaving his almost exhausted prisoner without food or drink. When he came back the rats were gnawing the cold feet of the dead hero. Bonapartes jeal- ousy and animosity were appeased, and he crowned the awful deed of murder by starva- tion with the black falsehood which he caused to be proclaimed, that Toussaint LOaverture eral of the new nation. For a while he ruled had died of apoplexy. with moderation. At length his animosity to- The horrors of San Domingo were fearful, ward the white people was aroused, and he re- but none were so diabolical as the treatment sumed the horrid work of exterminating them. Toussaint LOuverture received at the hands Terrible events followed. The land was drench- of Napoleon Bonaparte. ANTEROS. 85 ANTEROS. By THE AUTHOR OF Guy LIvINGsTONE, SWORD AND GowN, SANS MEacI, BREAKING A BUTTERFLY, ETC. CHAPTER ~ up just then, she might have been saved from ut- ter ruin, though not from guilt; for if she had IT was not Ralph Atherstones way to daily marked the qniver of the stern lip, the wistful I with a purpose once formed. Lena had just earnestness of the deep-set eyes, and the tender- returned from her drive when he reached home; ness that softened the rugged features, there and he went straight to her boudoir, having as- surely would have been stirred within her such certained that she was alone; yet, instead of an agony of remorse as she had never felt yet; broaching the ohject of his coming abruptly, he and after that sharp pang might have come paved the way by inquiring about their engage- slow healing. ments, and so forth; and, when enlightened on To have avowed allhad it heen possible these points, he paused for a while, as if medi- would have profited little; for Ralph Ather- tating. stones love did not cast out wrath, though it My dear, he said at last, do you think could cast out fear; and if there was no limit you could afford me a six-weeks leave? You to his trust, there was a narrow limit to his Ca- expect your mother almost immediately, I know; pacity of forgiveness; nor, to save a hundred and shes a much better chaperon than ever I lives dear to him as Lenas, would he have can hope to be, though a matron of your stand- stooped to condone a crime. But she might ing hardly requires one. Wroughton has offer- have cast herself on the broad breast that was ed me the second rod on his Norway river; and still ready to receive her; and, resting her head Ive a fancy to see the old fords once more. there, might have vowed within herself a vow. A startled look came into Lenas eyes. And if she had kept the same thenceforth faith- Norway ? she repeated, as if doubting fully, it might have fared with her as well as it whether she had heard aright. can ever fare with those who, if they escape A half-smile flitted across the Barons face, from bondage, must carry fetter-galls to their which had not often been so lighted up of late, grave. But that last chance ~vas lost: her eyes I suppose it sounds very far off; but, in were bent downward still ; and if, during the reality, it is not so. Its straight steaming to next few seconds, the Tempter relaxed his hold, Trondhjem; and a couple of days of cariole- he never quite unloosed it. work land you on the river. But, if I am want- You are quite wrong, she murmured. ed at home, do say so; nothing is settled yet. I never The falsehood died on her lips; I wouldnt decide without consulting you. they could only frame an evasion. Could you Her fingers plucked nervously at the fringe not possibly take me ? of her mantle, and her voice faltered. He shook his head. I hardly know what to say. I should be Quite impossible. Women must be pre- too sorry to thwart any fancy of yours; and pared to rough it in the best of those lodges; yet and Wroughtons, I happen to know, are literal- Ralph was standing over against his wife, ly bachelor quarters. Besides, even in summer much as lie had stood on that afternoon which you cant depend on the humor of the North decided their destinies; and noweven as he Sea. But it was a kindly thought, my dear- had done thenhe drew nearer, and bent over and Im sure you meant it. her, less caressingly than protectingly. Yes, I do mean it, she said, softly. A fancy? Yes; but suppose Id another The words need not necessarily have been quite fancy, my deara fancy that you have had untrue. Obstacles, trivial as a lost horseshoe, somewhat too much of my company of late, and an unsound axle, or a lagging time-piece, have, that you might tire of it less hereafter if you ere this, sufficed to arrest irreparable mischief; missed it for a while? Dont mistake me and, perchance, such a faint possibility was in he went on hurriedly; for he saw her start and the background here. It niay be that in her shiver Im not grumbling or complaining, mind there still lingered a vague ideanot Ive no more right to wonder at your finding amounting to a desireof seeking safety through my society sometimes dull, than at your finding the only means that could secure it; though she Temnplestowe sometimes dreary. Thirty years had no strength left to fight, she might still have difference of age must needs tell; I always found strength to fly. But the good impulse reckoned on it. And I see now no more bin- was not stable enough to persist against denial; drance to our being happy, in our own way, than and, with a throh of guilty joy at her heart, Lena I did eighteen months ago. But the best of yielded to what in her blindness she deemed her friendshipsand surely ours is of the bestare fate. She never in so many words approved of none the worse for short absences; and I think the Norway scheme; but from that moment it we might venture to try the experiment. was tacitly settled. And on this basis they The grave, cold tone suited ill with the gen- went on to discuss, quite tranquilly, their future erous words. Yet, if Lena had chanced to look plansRalph promising to return home in good

ANTEROS. 85 ANTEROS. By THE AUTHOR OF Guy LIvINGsTONE, SWORD AND GowN, SANS MEacI, BREAKING A BUTTERFLY, ETC. CHAPTER ~ up just then, she might have been saved from ut- ter ruin, though not from guilt; for if she had IT was not Ralph Atherstones way to daily marked the qniver of the stern lip, the wistful I with a purpose once formed. Lena had just earnestness of the deep-set eyes, and the tender- returned from her drive when he reached home; ness that softened the rugged features, there and he went straight to her boudoir, having as- surely would have been stirred within her such certained that she was alone; yet, instead of an agony of remorse as she had never felt yet; broaching the ohject of his coming abruptly, he and after that sharp pang might have come paved the way by inquiring about their engage- slow healing. ments, and so forth; and, when enlightened on To have avowed allhad it heen possible these points, he paused for a while, as if medi- would have profited little; for Ralph Ather- tating. stones love did not cast out wrath, though it My dear, he said at last, do you think could cast out fear; and if there was no limit you could afford me a six-weeks leave? You to his trust, there was a narrow limit to his Ca- expect your mother almost immediately, I know; pacity of forgiveness; nor, to save a hundred and shes a much better chaperon than ever I lives dear to him as Lenas, would he have can hope to be, though a matron of your stand- stooped to condone a crime. But she might ing hardly requires one. Wroughton has offer- have cast herself on the broad breast that was ed me the second rod on his Norway river; and still ready to receive her; and, resting her head Ive a fancy to see the old fords once more. there, might have vowed within herself a vow. A startled look came into Lenas eyes. And if she had kept the same thenceforth faith- Norway ? she repeated, as if doubting fully, it might have fared with her as well as it whether she had heard aright. can ever fare with those who, if they escape A half-smile flitted across the Barons face, from bondage, must carry fetter-galls to their which had not often been so lighted up of late, grave. But that last chance ~vas lost: her eyes I suppose it sounds very far off; but, in were bent downward still ; and if, during the reality, it is not so. Its straight steaming to next few seconds, the Tempter relaxed his hold, Trondhjem; and a couple of days of cariole- he never quite unloosed it. work land you on the river. But, if I am want- You are quite wrong, she murmured. ed at home, do say so; nothing is settled yet. I never The falsehood died on her lips; I wouldnt decide without consulting you. they could only frame an evasion. Could you Her fingers plucked nervously at the fringe not possibly take me ? of her mantle, and her voice faltered. He shook his head. I hardly know what to say. I should be Quite impossible. Women must be pre- too sorry to thwart any fancy of yours; and pared to rough it in the best of those lodges; yet and Wroughtons, I happen to know, are literal- Ralph was standing over against his wife, ly bachelor quarters. Besides, even in summer much as lie had stood on that afternoon which you cant depend on the humor of the North decided their destinies; and noweven as he Sea. But it was a kindly thought, my dear- had done thenhe drew nearer, and bent over and Im sure you meant it. her, less caressingly than protectingly. Yes, I do mean it, she said, softly. A fancy? Yes; but suppose Id another The words need not necessarily have been quite fancy, my deara fancy that you have had untrue. Obstacles, trivial as a lost horseshoe, somewhat too much of my company of late, and an unsound axle, or a lagging time-piece, have, that you might tire of it less hereafter if you ere this, sufficed to arrest irreparable mischief; missed it for a while? Dont mistake me and, perchance, such a faint possibility was in he went on hurriedly; for he saw her start and the background here. It niay be that in her shiver Im not grumbling or complaining, mind there still lingered a vague ideanot Ive no more right to wonder at your finding amounting to a desireof seeking safety through my society sometimes dull, than at your finding the only means that could secure it; though she Temnplestowe sometimes dreary. Thirty years had no strength left to fight, she might still have difference of age must needs tell; I always found strength to fly. But the good impulse reckoned on it. And I see now no more bin- was not stable enough to persist against denial; drance to our being happy, in our own way, than and, with a throh of guilty joy at her heart, Lena I did eighteen months ago. But the best of yielded to what in her blindness she deemed her friendshipsand surely ours is of the bestare fate. She never in so many words approved of none the worse for short absences; and I think the Norway scheme; but from that moment it we might venture to try the experiment. was tacitly settled. And on this basis they The grave, cold tone suited ill with the gen- went on to discuss, quite tranquilly, their future erous words. Yet, if Lena had chanced to look plansRalph promising to return home in good 86 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. time to accompany his wife to Kirkfeil, where they were booked already. Surprise does not at all express Mrs. Shaftons state of mind when, on her arrival forty-eight hours later, she was informed of the arrange- meat: indeed, discontent was so plainly writ- tea on her countenance that Lord Atherstone. felt constrained to ask if the chaperonage of Lena would interfere with any engagements of her own. Not exactly that, Mrs. Shafton answered, reluctantly; but She caine to an awk- ward halt here. But what ? Ralph inquired, after waiting patiently for the conclusion of the sentence. His brows were knit, perhaps more in perplex- ity than in displeasure; but Mrs. Shafton inter- preted the sign in the latter wise, and her heart began to quake. Now, as ever, she made siisall account of any difficulty or danger that could befall herself; but she was timid where Lena was concerned; and, though she liked him well, had always held her son-in-law in some dread. Nothing, she faltered at last; only wont people think it very odd ? And s~ came to another check. The frown still lingered on Lord Athcr~ibn~s brow, though his lip ~vas curling. People may think what they please, lie re- torted, so long as Lena aiid I understand each other; and I believe we do that, thoroughly. When youve talked it over with her, Im quite sure youll be satisfied that its a good arrange- ment. The two did talk it over, in a sort of way; but Lena did not much allay her mothers scru- ples or misgivings. She merely observed that the scheme was none of her suggesting; and declined to discuss its expediency, on the ground that she had already done this ~vith Lord Ather- stone. And she only assented with a careless nod to Mrs. Shaftons entreaty, that she ~vould at least promise to be unusually careful. The leave-taking of husband and wife, though kindly on both sides, was as calm and common- place as you cam~ conceive; for it was rare, in- deed, that the feelings of the former ever rose to the surface, and the latters hour of grace was past. Ralph Atherstones lips lingered no longer on the broad white brow than the first time when they lighted there. Could he guess that, when he looked on it next, it would bear an open brand of shame? Nevertheless, when these matters were dis- cussed in after-time, it ~vent hard with the Baron; and people were witty or severe, according to their temper, on the slackness of his guardian- ship; and some there were who, when his back ~vas turned, scrupled not to cry, wittol, dullard, and harder names yet, if such there bewearing, of course, to his face, looks of de- murest sympathy. Perchance, many who read this story will be prone to range themselves in the same seat of the scornful; yet there is something to be said on the other side. If manners are altered, men and ~vomen are much the same as ~vhen they in Camelot lived and sinned and suffered. After all, did Arthurs perfect trust impair his perfect honor? If any made mock thereat, they were not knights loyal as Gareth, or dames innocent as Enid; but rather traitors like to him who, Ever like a subtle beast, Lay couchant, with his eyes upon the throne, Ready to spring or wantons like to her who triumphed in the ~voods of Broceliande. Remember, it was sea s gibe that stirred the wizards cold blood to such loathing as almost saved him from the snare. Least of all, he sure, did Launcelot and Guinevere despise the blameless king. And yet the erline, never noted by his clear pure eyes, was one Clamord by the child, Not whisperd in tbe corner. I do not purpose to carry the parallel beyond a certain point. Besides courage, generosity, and uprightness, few elements of a hero of chivalry existed in Ralph Atherstone; neither could any specially lofty aspirations, or affairs of momentous import, excuse his thoughts for wandering from what concerned him more near ly. His folly, if you choose to call it so, was after the manner of his generation and the measure of his capacity; yet it was of such a sort as not even those who profited hy it could deride. From first to last, Glynne never spoke slightingly to Lena of her husband, or felt thor- ouglily at his ease in the others presence. As for her Well, even in this life, and even by womankind, varying and mutable, there is sometimes dealt justice, more even- handed than we suppose, to Gawain and Pelleas. Are you aweary of Lyonnesse? Perhaps not, if you think, with me, that it is scarce possible to read the Idyls so often as to find nothing to learn or to admire; even though the story mores the pitylike that of Cambuscan, is thus far left half told. Profit, surely, as ~vell as pleasure, may be dra~vn from almost every page; nor will I admit that true and wise words have less power when wedded to sweet, solemn rhythm, than when conveyed in doggerel, grat- ing like a handsaw. Alissa est apologia. CHAPTER XLII. MARIAN AsuLEson was scarcely less aston- ished than Mrs. Shafton had been, when she was informed of her father-in-laws intentions, though she took the news much more tranquil- ly. rhe pursing of her lips, and the lifting of her brows, might signify disapproval; yet cov- ert triumph sparkled in her eyes. Unless I have wholly failed in sketching her character, these signs will not seem to you strange; but-lest any should be at si loss to interpret themlet us speak plainly at last. ANTEROS. 87 From the moment that she heard of Lena Shafton as the future mistress of Templestowe, Marian had never ceased to regard her as an enemy, against whom all offensive measures were fair, and had never faltered in her pur- pose of lo~vering the usurper from her pride of place. She formed, at first, no set plan of ac- tion, but gradually developed it, moulding each chance and circumstance as it arose, and never holding her hand for pity, remorse, or shame. When she came to know Lena personally, her animosity neither increased nor diminished: it ua, the aife, not the woman, that she hated, and was prepared to sacrifice on grounds of purely political expediency. She would, doubt- less, have attempted, sooner or later, in some fashion or another, to sow seeds of dissension at Templesto~ve, if her natural shrewdness, work- ing out those hints of Kernegnys, had not whis- pered that, in all probability, swifter and surer means ~vould present themselves. After she heard of Caryl Glynnes appearance in Loam. shire, she had never doubted as to the result; and the only fault in her calculations was the setting it at too long a date. Had she been forced to give an acconnt of her actions, she would have alleged that she had done nothing to hurry or change the course of events, but had simply let it flow on. And, it may be, in strict human justice, the plea would have held good. In these cases there is no misprision of felony, and no formal pen- alt) attaches to those whothemselves on firm groundseeing one of their fellows sink, inch In inch, into the deadly quicksand, stir neither tongue nor fintrer. Ho~vever, construed by an- other code, certain flaws might be found in such neutrality as Marians. Grant that she was not bound to take action on suspicion and probability. But remember, after that night when she played the spy at Er- riswell, it ~vould have been mere prevarication to question whether Ralph Atherstones honor was imperiled; and, thenceforth, in holding her peaceto say nothing of furnishing oppor- tunityshe willfully connived at crime. Rath. er liberal reading of neutrality, this. Now, if any man had presumed to whisper into Marian Ashleighs ear an unseemly word, she would have requited the offense with a cool contempt, more effective than loud indignation; and would have passed on, shaking, so to speak, the dust from her spotless stole. Nevertheless, such a part as she had been playing for some months past, it might not be safe to propose to certain of the togat cv. Rank has its privileges save the mark! So sesse, and let the world slide. This being premised, you will understand why Marians eyes flashed so gleefully when she heard of the Barons resolution, and why she forbore either to encourage or dissuade him. But, in spite of policy and philosophy, she did experience a slight pang of compunction when he came to bid her good-byshe knew so well what his welcome home again was like to be and it so far influenced her that she could not ans~ver, audibly, Ralphs last injunction, Youll be sure to take care of Lena. For this venial weakness she may perhaps be for- given. Lord Atherstone had not been gone a week when the effects of his absence became manifest. As Mrs. Shafton had presaged, people did think it very odd, and scrupled not to say so; and vague rumors began to take form and sub- stance, rapidly as the smoke curling out of the Afreets prison. Perhaps some of Marian Ash- leighs parlor magic was at work; at any rate, it was wonderful how suddenly the worlds mem- ory became refreshed with regard to divers old stories, and how quickly divers hatchets were disinterred. Lady Atherstone and Glynne very rarely were seen together in public; and on these occasions there ~vas nothing to blame, or even to comment upon, in their demeanor; nevertheless, their names were coupled con- stantly and significantly now; and those who professed to see below the surface of things waited for the scandal that was bound to enstie, just as those who listen to the rumbling Geyser look for the outburst of scalding spray. Certain of tltese whispers reached the august ears of ltis Grace of Devorgoil, causing them to tingle not ungratefully. Feeling himself be- yond ken of Ralph Atherstones masterful eyes, he swelled with righteous indignation and valor. One afternoon the two carriages came side by side in the lock at the head of the Mile; and, then and there, the Duke redeemed hi~ slack- ness at Hazlemere. Lady Rachel Fontenaye ably seconded her sire; while Lady Ursula, blushing guiltily, was fain to let pass the jus- tice of the king. Before nightfall it was known to all whom it might concern, and to many whom it concerned not a whit that Grandma- noir Itad inflicted on Templestowe the cut di. rect. Among the spectators there were several not inclined to favor Lady Atherstone; but even these were fain to own tltat she bore herself su- perbly. She had no companion to keep her in countenanceher mother ~vas too unwell to drive that daybut she neither shrank nor changed color under the insult: indeed, the slightest curl of her lip was the only token that she noticed it. Hard by stood the Master of the Loamshire Hunt, almost hidden by the burly form of Swin- ton S~var brick. Both saw what happened; and Jasper Knowsleys brow contracted, while the others face critusoned angrily. Did you see that? he growled. I won- der what old Clear-Starchs game is ? Swinton guessed pretty well what was amiss; hut he was loath to think or speak evil, espe- cially of those for whom he had a liking; and Lena was poptilar enough among the male folk in Loamshire, if she had not been able to con- ciliate the womankind. The Master answered never a word; but he glided forward through the throng, and the next 88 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. instant he stood at Lady Atherstones carriage door. Swarbrick followed eagerly, shouldering aside the crowd with scant ceremony; and if the converse of the pair was not very intellect- ual or interesting, it certainly helped to relieve an awkward situation. Down in their own country, their partisan- ship might have availed somewhat in stem- ming the tide of public opinion; here, they were but straws in the stream; nevertheless the good intention was the same. For many a long day afterward the Master and his coad- jutor were in disfavor at Graudmanoir; in- deed, but for official considerations, his Grace would certainly have withdrawn his support from the hounds. However, neither has with- ered perceptibly under the ducal frownper- haps because neither has forgotten the sad smile with which Lena Atherstone requited their timely courtesy. Not from this quarter, you may be sure, came the tale-bearing; yet the incident just record- ed was discussed throughout Loamshire hefore it was many hours old. On the third morning Lady Marian was sit- ting alone, when Hubert Ashleigh was an- nounced. The brow of the placid divine was unusually overcast. He put curtly aside Marinas ques- tions as to local news, and did not even stop to inquire after Philip before breaking ground. It is a very unpleasant business that has brought me here; and, though you may throw some light on it, Marian, I can scarcely hope that you will alter its complexion. Is it possi- ble that I have been misinformed as to the Dukes behavior to Lady Atherstone ? She shook her head with a sympathetic sigh. It is too true, Im afraid. I cant tell you how shocked and surprised I was, when I heard of it the same evening. We all know his pride and prejudice; but Yes, he interrupted, and we all know, too, that, even in Ralphs absence, he never would have dared to be insolent, unless on safe grounds. Now, I have come to ask you what tkese grounds are. You can answer me, I feel certain, Marian. When you said surprised, a minute ago, I think you could scarcely have meant it. She did not like his tone, it was so perfectly different from any she had heard him use; and, to gain time, she tried evasion. Surely, you had better ask Philip. Philip ! he sneered. I should prefer sounding the first chance acquaintance I met. Ive no doubt hes fussing away, at this moment, on committee, just as if no cloud were hanging over his house. There is such a cloud; it is useless to deny it. Youd best be frank and open with me. Ive no reason for being otherwise, she retorted, except that its painful to speak of such things even among relations. It is said that Lena has seen a great deal too much late- ly of Caryl GlynneMrs. Malcolms cousin, youll remember. They were very intimate onceindeed, I fancy, almost engagedand ill-natured people will draw their own conclu- sions. Hubert Ashleigh, though time-serving and worldly-wise, was devoid neither of honor nor religion; under all his tinsel and varnish sound metal~ showed itself, when proved by fire. lIe could make small sacrifices to expediency, but would no more have countenanced or connived at actual wrong-doing than he would openly have violated his ordination vow. He had never approved of the second marriage; but coquetry was the worst he had imputed to Lena ; and, in their interview at Templestowe, Marian had overshot the mark in supposing that huberts suspicions kept pace with her own. If the recent rumors affecting his fam- ily had floated down into Loamshire, they had not reached his quiet parsonage; and he felt something, now, of the horror of one who, sud- denly turning his head, finds a spectre in his track. Moreover, his sluggish blood was stirred at hearing such shame hinted at coolly, if not flippantly. He had ever thought more highly of Marian Ashleighs prudence than of her principles; yet, when a certain suspicion crossed his mind, he drove it back at first in- dignantly; and the very idea that he had near- ly done her injustice helped to keep his wrath in check. Nevertheless, there was some harsh- r?ess in his tone. Ill-natured people! And what have the others said or done? Was it in good-nature that they let poor Ralph go a thousand miles away, when his name was to be dragged through the mire? Marian, if you had the faintest sur- mise of all this, it was your bounden duty to keep him here, at any risk or cost. How far has it gone? I will be answered. The woman who had never been overawed by Ralph Atherstone, was not likely to be in- timidated by Hubert Ashleigh. His manner, too, chafed not less than it puzzled her, and her temper began to rise. The privileges of relationship may be car- ried a little too far. If you will be ans~vered, you had better apply to Lady Atherstones mother, or to herself. I was never appoint- ed her conscience-keeper. Im neither brave enough to go tale-bearing to Monseigneur, nor strong enough to hold him in leading-strings, norshe paused, and went on with a malign laugh fool enough to crush my fingers be- twixt bark and wood. The other gazed at her, as if doubting whether he had heard aright; and as he so gazed, the dreadful suspicion that he had repulsed five minutes ago thrust itself forward again, and would not he exorcised. When he spoke, it was in the subdued tone that, with some people, betokens the presence of great fear. Has any word been sent to Norway of what has happened ? Not by me, she answered, in the same cool, ANTEROS. 89 defiant way. Once for all, I wish you to un- derstand that I wash my hands of the whole affair. The resolute look oa the parsons face, as he rose to his feet silently, made Marina Ash- leigh uneasy at last. There was anxiety in her eyes, and the slightest tremor in her voice, as she asked, hurriedly, Where are you going? What do you in- tend to do ? I am going to write to Ralph Atherstone, Hubert answered. You do not choose to give me any information, it seems, and I do not choose to hunt up evidence; but I shall write to him soniething of what I fear all that I know. It is not much; hut it is more than enough to bring him home without an hours de- lay; and I pray God it may bring him in time ! In time. The two syllables struck un- pleasantly on Marinas ear. Was it possible that, though hitter misery must ensue, the complete ruin on which she had reckoned might yet he averted? Remember, heyond the unsupported testimony of her own eyes and ears, there was, so far as she knew, no substantial proof to con- vict the criminals; some overt act of theirs was needed to complete the case. In her eagerness she started up and laid her hand on Ashleighs arm. Have you reflected? Will you give him such fearful pain, when, perhaps He shook himself roughly loose. There is no perhaps, and you know it. As for the pain, I no more shrink from inflict- ing it than I would from searing a mad dogs bite. Let me goI am wasting time here. lie spoke with a vehemence that actually cowed her; but a moment afterward the par- sons somewhat commonplace features settled into a stern earnestness, such as they had never worn when, from his appointed place, he launch- ed forth anathema or warning. Marian, he said, if I wrong you in my thoughts, I need to ask pardon from Heaven, as ~vell as from you. If 1 have not wronged you, it is too late to preach. Listen, nevertheless. You spoke of washing your hands of this mat- ter. If they have had art or part therein, I be- lieve they ~vill not be cleansed throughout eter- nity; and, as there is a Judge above us, I be- lieve your sin is past forgiveness. Then Hubert Ashleigh ivent out. solve. Turning matters over thus leisurely, she came to the conclusion that, if other strings were properly worked, Hubert Ashleighs interfer- ence, instead of averting, might hasten a catas- trophe. Her meditations carried her on to luncheon-time; and, after partaking of that meal with a remarkably good appetite, she or- dered her carriage and drove straight to Gaunt Street, -where the Atherstones resided. She knew enough of the habits of the house to be sure of finding its mistress at home at that hour, and probably alone. She was right in both cal- culations, for Mrs. Shafton was still too unwell to leave her room. If Lady Atherstones thoughts bad not been so much engrossed of late she would assuredly have noticed, not only the comparative rarity of her step-daughters visits, but also a decided coolness in the others manner. The jests and quips that used to fall so readily from Marina were never beard now, and her remarks, when not formal and commonplace, were decidedly suhacid. But one of the worst symptoms of these moral maladies is that utter indifference to the sayings and doings either of friend or foe. Lady Atherstone had winced, perhaps though she never showed itunder the first sting of the Duke of Devorgoils insult; hut even this did not rankle as it would have done a year ago; and the little pain it caused her she was careful to smother, for Caryls sakeany woman will tell you why. Though she liked her downright ways, and had often been amused by her brisk sallies, she had never conceived any deep attachment for Marian; and, though she believed her to be passably honest, some instinct, backed by a sus- picion, of which we will speak anon, kept Lena from trusting her step-daughter implicitly. So long as the other chose to be amiable and ami- cable, it was well; if it pleased her to take an- other line, it would be a pity, that was all, and they would only have to see less of each other. Since that incident in the Park, the two had not met; and, if Lady Atherstone bestowed a thought on the subject, she perhaps fancied that this might partly account for the hard look on her visitors face. however, Marian opened the trenches in a closer parallel. Have you seen any thing of hubert Ash- leigh ? Lenas eyes opened in languid surprise. hubert Ashleigh? I hadnt a notion he was in town. What brought him up, I won- der? ChAPTER XLIII. Very unpleasant businessto use his own I~ Lady Marinas nerves were somewhat words. He came to ask me whether be had shaken by the curious phenomenon she had just heard a true report of the Duke of Devorgoils witnessed, they did not, you may be sure, re- behavior the other day. main long a-fluttering. Before her reverend And what did you answer cousin had been gone half an hour she could The long lashes had drooped again, and there afford to smile at her late impressions, and was was not a shade of eagerness in the question. taking cool counsel with herself as to future What could I answer? There was nothing measures; possibly the recollection of having to contradict, and~vellnot much to explain. been rather foiled in the passage of words may I could only leave him to form his own concln- have added a little extra viciousness to her re- sions. 90 hARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Et puis ? Lena inquired, listlessly. The apathy, real or assumed, began to exas- perate Marian. She pressed her lips tightly to- gethera sure token that her temper was ris- ing. Rather difficult to answer either in French or English, she replied, unless one had the gift of prophecy. Testing the patience of soci- ety is an exciting amusement, I dare say; btit it is apt to be expensive. I suppose you have counted the cost, Lady Atherstone. As often happens where there is nearly equal- ity of age, the two had always called each other by their Christian names; and besides the sig- nificant formality, there was a sardonic empha- sis on the last words. There ~vas no change in Lenas indolent attitude, but her thin nostrils dilated. Dont you think you had better speak a little more plainly? It saves so much trouble. Marians black eyes gleamed rancorously. Thats what I came here forfor that, and one other purpose; and Im not likely to trou- ble you macli hereafter. You know perfectly well why the Duke acted as he did, and wheth- er his example is likely to be followed. I, for one, can not blame him. Ive no right to call you to account; but I have a right to be care- ful of my own good nameif only for Philips sake; and I should risk it, if I came oftenor ever again, after what has passedto a house where Caryl Glynne is made so welcome. Then, for the first time, Lena looked the other steadfastly in the face, and smiled. Thanks, she said- that is plain-speaking, at all events. Yes, youre very right to be cau- tious, especially for Philips sake. Poor Phil- ip! Im afraid you did not think quite enough of him during that month at Templestowe. You had no scruples about my visitors then. Is it not rather late in the day to lift up your testimony ? Lady Marians color rose. Though she did not dream that the secret of her supineness had been fathomed, the very allusion to it angered her. Not a bit too late, she retorted, sharply. I had no sort of reason for suspecting even imprudence, then; now, I have reason for sus- pecting worsethe very worst. No reason. Was it chance, then, that night at Erriswell, that brought Marian Ash lei,,h so close to a curtained door; and, while she lurked there, were her ears deadened that they should not hear, and her eyes blinded that they should not see? Yet, said her friends, she carried sincerity to a fault ; andonce morethey must have known best. Lady Ath- erstone shrugged her shoulders. Certainly the past matters little; and it is not worth while to discuss the present or future, when we are sure not to agree. You have told me what line you mean to take. Is there much more to say ? During the last few seconds Marians cheek had paled again, and the gleaming of her eyes was changed for a cold, cruel glitter. Not much, she answered only this, in- deed. My second purpose in coming here ~as to tell you that, by this post, Hubert Ashleigh has written to NorwayI use his own words again something of what he fears, all that he knows; aud that he counts on Lord Atherstones returning without an hours delay. Eagerly and hungrily she watched how the stab would tell; but Lena neither bleached nor started. The hands that lay clasped on her lap were locked a little more tightly, perhaps that ~vas all. Are you quite sure of this ? she asked, after a pause. Absolutely sure, Marian ans~vered, vi- ciouslyinure and more irritated by the glint- ing of that last homethrust. Then I ought to thank you for your warn- ing, the other went on, with the same serenity. Now, to any nature not quite senseless or servile, long dissimulation, even with a right eous end in view, must needs be galling. I fancy that, in all his austere life, Junius Brutus never savored such a delight as when he cast off the fools mask beside dead Lucretia. Ma- nan Ashleigh was neither humble nor submis- sive, and her resentments ~vere not less keen than abiding: judge if she had found the dute- ous step-daughter easy to play. She was not even now ashamed of her treachery; neverthe- less, the memory of the kindly words she had lavished on her enemy stung her like a shame. At any cost, she would for once enjoy the lux- ury of speaking her mindspecially as the need of temporizing seemed past. You wouldnt thank me, she said, in a bitter whisper, if you knew all. But you do kno~vyou must have known throughout, if you were not willfully blindwhat sort of friendship ours was likely to be. 1)id you expect me to take you to my heart for sitting down in a place that, even while Lord Atherstone lived, ought to have been mineonly mine? It was scarce- ly worth while scheming fur that place, to lose it again so soonfor you ill lose it. If I had not been quite sure of this, perhaps I should not have warned you of Huberts proceedings. It is your last chance, however; so make the best or the worst of it. Frank, certainly almost unfemininely so; yet only half frank, after all. The warning was just as much part of a plan as any other one of Marians sayings and doings since she began to contrive. There was, once upon a time, a prisoner kept in ward, whose life was a sore hindrance to the King; but with whom, for state reasons, it was not safe to deal by fomul means, howsoever cov- ert. On a certain night there were flung through the cell window a file and a rope. The steel was sharp, and the cord seemed trustworthy, and, very soon, the captive swung in free air. Joyfully he descended, knot by knot, till he ANTEROS. 91 reached the last; and thenwell, the rope, un- luckily, was some ten fathoms too short; and ~~hen the dawn broke, the sentinels saw on the jagged rocks beneath a crushed human wreck. The good governor was very wroth, hut there was none on whom to charge the blame; so they could only take up the corpse, and bury it with due rite and dole. A true story, I believe, and one that, may- hap, has been repeated often enough since, with variations, and without such fatal ending. The illustration, probably, did not suggest itself to Lena Atherstone; but, as she watched the ma- lign mouth and cruel eyes, a certain suspicion ripened into assurance. You may not have forgotten that, after dis- cussing with Lord Atherstone the nnonymous letter, she put it carefully away. Months later, happening to glance at the cover of one of Man- nns notes, she felt sure that there was a simi- larity in the addresses, and, on comparing them, she was still more struck by this; but at the mo- ment she decided that the resensblance, which did not extend to the body of the handwriting, must be fortuitous. However, she locked up the two envelopes together; and, thenceforth, whenever the idea recurred to her, she always strove to banish it. Now, however, the convic- tion flashed upon her that she had never done Manian an injustice: the latter had simply been consistent, it seemed, from first to last. Never- thelessunlikely ns it may appearwith her indignation mingled a kind of compassionate wonder. Not long ago an acquaintance of mine dis- covered that he had been persistently robbed by a friend who had been all the time living, if not under his roof, at least chiefly on his boun- ty. When the first shock of annoyance ~vas past, this good fellow was heard to remark, Poor devil! Id no notion he was so hard driven; it must have been awfully up-hill work, sometimes, for his fathers son. Perhaps some such notion crossed Lenas mind; for she answered, rather thoughtfully than angrily, And I never did you any willful harm! It all sounds very strange. Wellhere her face hardened a little as were not likely to meet again often, I should like to give you back something that belongs to you. Crossing tbe room, she opened a writing-case with a key hanging from her watch-chain. The next minute she had laid the anonymous let- ter and the other envelope, side hy side, before Marian Ashleigh. One need not be an expert to trace the re- semblance, Lena said, quietly. You seem rather fond of warnings. Perhaps the first was as kindly meant as the last. If you have forgotten that sentence, you had better refresh your memory. At any rate, take back these papers: if they fall into other hands, they might still be dangerousto you. The strongest, not less than the weakest, minds are liable occasionally to be thrown off their balance; and, though in one case the disa- bling may be hut temporary, while it lasts, both are about on a par. Marian was so completely taken aback that she could not frame a denial, much less answer sarcasm in kind. The fierce eagerness with which she clutched at the letter and crushed it betwixt her fingers was in itself an avowal. She rose up hastily, meaning to end the interview; but before she could deter- mine how best to do so, Lena had glided away; and the other, glancing round, found herself alone. The triumph of virtue and the discomfiture of vice were surely very near. Yet the woman did not look much like a conqueror, who stood there, with brows knit and downcast, and sullen eyes riveted on the scrap of crumpled paper peering out of her clenched hand. Nevertheless, I trust that the victress retains your sympathies to the last, and that you will neither withhold your laurel-wreath, nor refuse to cry, with me, Ace, linperetrix! CHAPTER XLIV. You have not been required to assist at many such; but of another interview, that happened that same evening, you must needs take cogni- zance. Lena Atherstone and Caryl Glynne sat alone together, and the latter had just been made aware of the situation. lie did not affect to make light of it; and as he mused silently for a while, his trouble and doubt were plain to discern. It is with this as with other less dangerous games: so long as a single cqrd remains to be drawn, those who are playing for their last stake generally refuse to believe that some freak of fortune may not yet save them; only when the last, the very last, is turned, are they fain to ac- knowledge that there is nothing left but to pay the ruinous score. Nevertheless, there was small leaven of self- ishness in Glynnes anxieties. It must be own- ed that this was not the first time he had found himself in a like perilous position, and he had comparatively little to lose; but had the conse- quences been thrice as harmful to himself, I do believe that he would have thought solely of the consequences to Lena. He had not loved her well enough to abstain from tempting her to sin knowing well whither the temptation would surely leadperhaps because it was not in his nature so to love. But, though she was more precious to him than cyer, since she had become part and parcel of his existence, he loved her well enough now to have severed the link, if that would have saved her. Ay !more than thisif he could have borne her harmless at the coat of his own life, he would scarcely have be- grudged the sacrifice. But it was too late: they were bound to stand or fail together; and he shrank from the prospect of her future. Some day-dreams are almost as rapid in their changes as any visions of the night. During 92 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. that brief pause, in the midst of many other lawry. Wheresoever he went he would find memoriesvividly as if they had been uttered comrades, such as they were; but as for her yesterdayhis own words came back to Caryl thenceforth could she hope to clasp the hand Glynne. of any woman whose touch was not dishonor? Whenever I do go down, Ill think of the Nayhow sore soever her straitwas it certain chance I have had; butIll sink alone. that even the mother that bore her would not Was it all a false form of speech? Hardly so; though since it had been bitterly belied. For his chances of keeping afloatwere they brighter now than then? As he answered the question to himself, he hardly smothered a curse. I may have erred in portraying it at all; but I can honestly affirm that I have not purposed to cast a rosy halo of romance round a black, ugly crime. Therefore I do not shrink from setting forth things in a plain, prtictical light, at the risk of making baseness seem more base. Some time ago there appeared a curious storythe title has utterly escaped menot very polished or coherent in construction, but full of a quaint philosophy, and paradoxes less expressed than implied; with an under-current of cynicisms throughout, moral sentiments in rrofusion floated on the surface, and the re- wards and punishments were distributed with the most rigid propriety. One of the main in- cidents in the tale is an elopement, and the suf- ferings of the criminals are photographed with a painful minuteness; only these appear to have been caused, not so much by remorse, as by the extreme scantiness of their resources; and the author concludes with the deduction that, setting right and wrong aside, and hav- ing regard solely to temporal welfare, no man ought to covet his neighbors wife whohas not a competence. After all, when we consider how few joys may not be moderated, how few sorrows may not be imbittered by that wretched cure peculil, it may not seem wonderful if financial anxieties formed part of Glynnes trouble. As for him- self, of late years, at all events, he had lived from hand to mouth, on the simple principle of taking no thought for the morrow, and trust- ing to the chapter of accidents to pull him throughstinting himself; meanwhile, in no fancy whatsoever. Now Lena, before her mar- riage, had known little of luxury, and the econo- mies to which she had been accustomed, Caryl, perhaps, would have called privations; but, at the worst, there was always a solid roof, if a rude one, over her head; and her daily bread, if neither sweet nor soft, was sure. The woodlands of Bohemia look tempting enough when the sun shimmers through wealth of green leaves, and when the breeze just wafts aside the smoke of the camp-fire; but when the black North-wind sends the snow-flakes fly- ing through the bare branches, the Nut-Brown Maid heiself may be apt to envy the sober housewives sitting cozily in biggit land. If Caryl was not absolutely free of the forest, he had seen enough of it not to fear trusting himself there; but he did shrink from bringing Lena among the shifts and perils of social out- pass by on the other side? And yetwhat help for it? When he first heard of the Duke of Devor- goils insolenceit had chafed him far more than he betrayed to Lenahe knew it was the beginning of the end; only, till the end came, he had not fairly faced it. His reverie was broken at last by a low whisper: Are you so sui-prised theil, Caryl ? lie had dealt very gently with her since she had passed wholly into his power; and, when they were alone together, a cynicism, or even an irony, seldom escaped him. He drew her closer to him now, as he answered, Not surprised, darling; but very, very sor- ry; for I fear there is but one way. Yes, only one, she murmured and we niust make haste. Dont you think Ae will make haste, when he reads that letter ? She shivered like an aspen where she sat. Glynne hit his lip: lack of courage was not amen g his failings; and it was no dread of the consequences that made him loathif loath he was-to meet the man he had so wronged. The sight of Lenas terror was very gallingit im- plied a doubt of his power or will to protect her; and there came a touch of the old sarcasm into his tone. Dont tremble so. We shall be far enough away before the avenger comes; hut Id rather have faneied that we did not fly for fear. She drew backward a little, lifting her head almost haughtily. For fear? No: even lam not afraid; at least, not in that ~vay. If the proofs against me were a thousand times strongerif my own mother accused meI need only look into his face and say, It is not true; and he would be- lieve, in spite of all. But I can not do itI can not say it. Caiyl, you will not ask it of me? I would rather he trampled under his feet than forgivenso. Amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, Glynne found time to draw a certain comparison. For many years he had held Lenas heartof late he had held her whole soulin his keeping; yet she would never have said of him what she had just said of the loyal gentleman whom she had never learned to love, and whose home she had not scrupled to desolate. I understand, he answered, with some bit- terness; and I ought to have understood at first. No, I ask you to do nothing, except to trust in me always; though trusting has brought you to this pass. My poor darling !his voice shook a little here you have a rough road before you, though Ill do my best to smooth it. She nestled close to his shoulder; looking up at him with eyes full of a rapt devotion, such as may scarce be justified by any earthly love how ANTEROS. soever lawful, and of a triumph withal, like that of one who, after long toil and pain, sees the victory sure; and, even to him who was fa- miliar with its every cadence, her voice sound- ed strangely sweet. Caryl, was it very long ago when we parted at Grace Morelands? It seems so: yet I re- member, if you have forgotten, some words of mine If you say to me, Come, I will come, and never repent it afterward. I have not grown a coward since; and, though you would not then, you willyou mustdare to say it now. He did say itperhaps not very intelligibly. Through the long anxious talk which ensued ~ve need not follow. When Glynne reached home, several letters lay on his table, that had arrived by the second post. All, save one, he flung aside after a rapid glance at their contents: this superscription was in a firm, bold handwriting, though unmistaka- bly feminine. Caryl held it in his hand for sev- eral seconds, unopened, as if irresolute: then he crossed the room, and held the letter over the flame of a spirit-lamp till it was reduced to ashes; and, as he dropped the last blackened fragment, he smiled rather scornfully. It was not a great sacrifice: nevertheless it was a sign that he intended to keep the guilty compact, signed that afternoon, ftslly and faith- fully; for the letter, as you may have divined, catne from Hnnsden, and brought a slighted womans final appeal. It had cost the writer much time and study, and tears not a few; for sweet Cissy Devereux had never before set her hand to an elegiac, though she had, douhtless, received a sufficiency. She had a right to reckon on her maiden effort being perused, if not appreciated. But the luck has not changed since the Heroideswere penned; and the deserted loves of otir day fare not much better than Phyllis or ~Enone. However, with this light-minded matron we can not condole. Let us only hope that the sharp lesson to her vanity, to say nothing of her heart, may be of profit, and that in after- time memory may whisper, seasonably, Neu crede colon. CHAPTER XLV. ON a bench, under the broad eaves of his fish- ing-lodge, sat Sir Charles Wroughton, watching, with a lazy appreciation, the play of the purple light through the hanging pine-wood; and, though his arms ached with the days work it ~vas all honest casting, not trailing, on that riverjubilant over the landing of nine fair fish out of eleven hooked, including one that might possibly rank King of the season. Moreover, certain savory steams issuing from within were any thing but an offense to his nostrils; and perhaps his chiefest anxiety at the moment was lest he should be obliged to wait dinner for his comrade, or feed alone. He was neither disquieted nor excited by the appearance of the post-cariole, for the Miller of the Dee himself was not freer of cares and ties than this jovial old bachelor. Club-gossip was about all his letters were likely to contain; and the papers could scarcely bring heavier tid- ings than that the tenner, invested on a friends promising two-year-old, had gone the way of other certainties. The news, good or bad, would keep perfectly till after dinner; so, after a careless glance at the contents of the packet, he was putting them aside en masse, when a thought seemed to strike him, and he sorted the letters over again carefully. Its devilish odd, he grumbled; only one for him, and that not in my ladys hand. He wont half like that; andIdont half like it. Somehow the keen ed~e was suddenly taken off his appetite; and when, lifting his eyes, he saw Ralph Atherstone crossing the meadow be- twixt the house and the river with the long, sweeping stride that he himself, though hale and active for his years, had often envied, Charles Wroughton frowned instead of smil- ing, as he would have done a few seconds ago. Cheerily, however, he hailed his friend with the regular question, Well, what luck? Nothing to complain of, and not much to boast of, either, Ralph answered. Seven fish, but not a twenty-pounder among them. I see the post has come in. And, with an eager- ness contrasting strongly with the others apa- thy, he turned over the letters one by one. A misgiving that he did not care to define made Wroughton betake himself within-doors without casting a glance over his shoulder; and it might have been ten minutes or so be- fore he emerged again. On that same bench Lord Atherstone sat, his head bent and partially averted; so that, till the other came quite close, his visage re- mained unseen. The first glimpse of it made Wroughton start a pace backward. Men have been wounded, even unto death, and have suffered torture ~vorse than any that wounds can bring, without their faces changing as Ralphs had changed. The steady light had gone out of the deep eyes; the healthy brown cheeks looked gray and wan; and even the firm lips seemed rather tense than set. What has happened ? Wroughton spoke eagerly, hut in a hushed voice, as men do who stand in presence of some great calamity. The other did not answer for a while. Though there breathed fe~v prouder creatures than Ralph Atherstone, it was not selfish pride that made him loath to confide in that trusty comrade. However, he took his part at last, and held out the open letter, saying, Youmayread. His lips were parched and stiW as from long drought; and he was forced to moisten them before he could form the three syllables sepa- rately. 94 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. With a lowering brow, the other did as he was desired; hut as he reached the ead of the letter, his countenance somewhat cleared. After all, Hubert Ashleigh brought no direct charge: he only stated the Duke of Devor- goils conduct, and how it must be accounted for, and prayed his cousin to hasten back to look after his own honor. So Wroughton fighting hard against his o~vn impressions strove to persuade himself that Lenas impru- dence might have stopped short of guilt, and said as much. The Baron plucked his comrade by the sleeve and drew him nearer, till the oth- er s ear was almost on a level with his own lips: his voice, though hoarse and low, was quite dis- tinct now. I think nothing of this, he answered, tak- ing the letter back. I promised her, long ago, that, if all the world accused her, I would never doubt till she herself told me it was time. She Aas told me; for, since we parted, she has not written one ~vord. A~ainst the terrible conviction of his manner it was impossible to argue, and in Wroughtons simple pharmacy there was no salve for a grief like this. A long, heavy silence ensued. At last God help her ! quoth Ralph Atherstone. No~v this intercession came not from an anointed priest, or devout Levite, or pious eld- er, but from a hard, heathenish old Philistine, with knees unpliable to prayer. But would the meekest of them have found it easy, while reel- ing under the bitter blow, to plead for the wo- man who dealt it? Moreover, in those simple words there was an utter hopelessness which stirred chords in Charles Wroughtons heart that had been still for many a day; he turned on his heel, and, for a second or two, meadow, wood, and river swam before him somewhat mistily. When he looked round again, Ralph had risen to his feet; the wanness had gone out of his face, and the cloud out of his eyes, and his lip was firm as ever. Ive no time to spare, he said; for, of course, I start to-night. Theres always the chance of a steamer at Trondhjem. Within the last few minutes Wroughton had found time to reproach himself for having tempt- ed his friend out of England when such a crisis was imminent, though afterward he came to be- lieve that the catastrophe could only have been deferred. Ill go with you, he said, hastily; and he meant it, be sure. The Baron laid his hand on his old con?rades shoulder, thanking him with a dreary smile. You may follow, if you will, for I fear youll have little heart for the fishing after this. But try and understand why Id rather go alone. The other did understand, or, at least, he made no farther remonstrance, and the two went into the house together. An hour later, Lord Atherstonehaving eat- en and drunk sparinglywas ready for the road. Do you think youll be in time ? Wrough- ton asked, as he wrung his friends hand at parting. It may sound a cruel question; but both these men were wont, in face of a certain disaster, to grapple with, rather than ignore it. Ive small hope, Ralph answered; yet, if I come ever so late, there will be work for me to do. He spoke with marvelous calmness, but the deadly glitter of his eyes was not hard to inter- pret. The listener guessed at once what man- ner of work was like, crc long, to occupy the hand he still held, and what manner of stain was like to rest upon it before all was done. But he, too, was Philistine enough to maintain that the punishment of certain wrongs should not be left to Time or any other avenger. De- spite of conventional difficulties, and the di- vine voice of the people, there are still places where a desperate man may set himself foot to foot with his enemy, in the bad old fashion andbeyond the narrow seas, at leastthere is sometimes a grave as well as a comic side to that ordeal. Wroughton knew that, with- in the last hour, a doom had gone forth against a guilty life almost as sure as if it had been pronounced from a judgment. seat; and he would no more have averted it than have with- stood the hangman in his office. At any rate, to the crime, if crime it were, by his hearty fare- well grip, he was made accessory. It is useless to describe Ralph Atherstones journey. To those who have never been forced to undertake such a one, the picture would seem overwrought : such as have had the dread- ful experience will need no limner, for few memories are darker and deeper in grain than these. Years, happy and peaceful, may pass before we forget how, as we sped along, whether sun or moon was shining, whether the skies were clearer murky, the face of nature wore always the same veilho~v every hindrance by the way seemed to mock at our misery; albcit we were ever haunted by the thought that the sands, dropping so slowly through our glass, might be running out with awful swiftness in a darkened chamber far awayhow, at last, despite that fe- verish impatience, the sick fluttering of the heart ~vaxed so intolerable that we would fain have had a hundred more of the weary miles to trav- el rather than he so near our journeys end how, when we drew quite near, our hot, tired eyes were strained to catch the first sign of good or illho~v the heavy lids drooped, as if they would never lift again, when we recognized that there was nothing left to hope or fear. Yet, when at our dreariest, we had cause to thank heaven if the horror awaiting us was nothing worse than death. Ralph at least was spared the torture of in- active delay. A hull steamer started within a few hours of his reaching Trondhjem; and, though heavily laden for the coarse weather she encountered, the good ship plowed sturdily ANTEROS. 95 through the angry North Sea. But those five days scored on his face deeper lines than the last five lushes had left. It was not that he seemed aged or broken, and his features were of the type that, under sore sickness, hardly change: nevertheless, they were changed; and a gaunt, savage look possessed theni, such as they had never worn when his mood was at the angriest. No wonder that, when Lord Atherstone reach- ed home, lie found none hold enough to set be- fore him the hitter truth; and that only from the white, frightened faces around he guessed that he had, indeed, cometoo late. ChAPTER XLVI. A CLEVER and influential hacker of horses, when asked if he was going to Ncwmarket, an- s~vered, gravely, It entirely depends on whether I can raise enough for my railway ticket. hay- ing once surmounted this difficulty, he started full of confidence, and had a remarkably good week, on the proceeds whereof he wintered in much luxury. Some such large trust in Providence or ~vhatever other power the plungers believe in probably induced Miles Shafton to travel down to try a promising five-year-old near Hes- lingford. Proihpt payment was, of course, out of the question; but he thought a three-shilling stamp, with the promise of a share in fnture winnings, might possibly tempt the sporting farmer. At any rate, looking over the brute could do no harm. However, the owner did not quite see things in this light : so Miles sat in the anteroom of the barracks, where he had found quarters, brooding, with a sense of injury, over his fruit- less journey, and striving to stimulate a mod- e~ate appetite with much imbittered sherry. An accommodating train that reached Hes- lingford just in time for dinner not unfre- quently brought a visitor; but Frank Dacre s appearance was a surprise to every one there present. The new-coiner seemed. rather embarrassed than gratified by his noisy welcome, and, as soon as he could extricate himself, he walked straight up to Shafton and touched him on the shoulder. Look here, buster, lie said, come outside for a minute; Ive something to say to you. Miles tossed off the remainder of his bitters with a sound betwixt a growl and a groan. What is it? he asked, as he went out. Bad news, of course? The Czars broken down, I suppose. The other did not answer till the door was shut behind them. Its worse than thatpretty near the ~vorst that can be, Im afraid. Your sister ~vent off last night ~vith Caryl Glynne. Miles staggered backward as if he had been struck, half lifting his clinched hand. Its a lie ! he said, huskily, and then stood panting. Dacre shook his head. hard words wont mend it, old man, he said. I shouldnt have brought a bit of idle scandal all this way. Black as it is, its the truth, and youd better face it; though, after all, its no fault of yours, and I dont see what you cah do. Looking into Shaftons bloodshot eyes, and remembering of what race he came, you might have guessed why so many dark pages ~vere to be found in the annals of Blytheswold. Dont you? he asked, in a fierce ~vhisper. Theyve got a long start, but that dont mat- ter. Never mind me, just now. Ill tell you what you can do, though. Go in there, and make what excuse you like for my boltingso long as it isnt the right oneand meet me at the station, if you dont mean stopping here. Ive somethin~ to do before the train starts; but I shant miss it. Under ordinary difficulties his brain ~vas apt to get muddled; but the shock, and that first gust of passion, seemed to have cleared it; for, as lie strode away, he looked far more cool amid collected than iDacre, whose face, as he stood there, was quite a study of perplexity. Perhaps you would never guess whither Miles Shaftons steps were bent. The leading idea in his mind was, of course, pursuit of the fugitives; for, knowing nothing of hubert Ash- leighs letter, he could not tell how soon Lord Atherstone would be able to take his own part. But before the resolve had been five seconds formed, lie bethought himself that his feet would be tied, unless he provided himself with the sinews of war. Looking at his own immediate resources, a fifty-pound note seemed to Miles utterly unattainable; though, with a weeks notice, and through the usual channels, he might possibly have secured ten times the sum. He doubted whether his mother could help him thus far; and, besides, though not often trou- bled by scruples, lie loathed the notion of tax- ing her at such a time. Even if the will of his hosts had been good, he misdoubted their power to oblige him; and, besides, he hind no mind that his family affairs should be discussed that night in the anteroom. He thought he saw a better way out of his difficulty than any of these; and, as he walked straight and swift- ly toward Corbetts house, lie was troubled by none of the qualms that usually beset a bor- rower. lie remembered certain good-natured hints thrown out in old times; and, someho~v, if it were necessary, he thought it would be easier to confide in Arthur than in his light- minded comrades. Miles was shown imito the library, for the master of the house ~vas in his dressing-room; from which, however, he presently emergedas usual, in gorgeous array. If this man had been going to the scaffold, I believe he would still have donned his purple and fine linen and jewels. There was a shade of surprise in his 96 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. welcome; for the visit was, to say the least, un- seasonable, especially as the t~vo had met before that day; but the other did not leave him long in suspense. Ive no time for beating about the bush, he said. Ive come to ask you to lend inc fifty poundsor a little more, if you can manage it. Corbett was considerably taken aback: be had no idea of refusing; but at the word lend his professional instincts awoke, and he answered with professional hesitation. Well, I hardly know. Do you want the money to-night ? I want it within the hour, the other re- torted. Youll guess why, when I tell you what I want it for. HereI may as well make a clean breast of ittheres a real bad business about Lena. Arthurs face crimsoned, and his lips worked convulsively. About Lena? The familiarity was quite unintentional: he was only repeating the words mechanically. Yes, the other went on through his teeth. All the world will know to-morrowif they dont know it already that she bolted last night with Caryl Glynne. Now I mean to have his blood, and I want money to hunt him down. Corbett dropped into a chair, covering his face with his hands: all at once he broke ~ut into shrill hysteric laughter. There are few drearier sounds than that of a grown man s weeping; yet such merriment is worse to listen to. Gonewith Caryl Glynne ? Arthur pant- ed after a while, catching his breath betwixt each syllable; and you come to me for help? Its too absurd ; and he laughed again. Shafton strode forward, and, gripping the oth- ers shoulder, thrust him back in the chair. You had best stop that, he said, savage- ly. What are you driveling about? Why shouldnt I Come to you ? he would have said. But just then there flashed across the speakers mind a sudden shameful conviction, and it be- came plain to him why, in his present strait, he ought to have sought aid from almost any living creature rather than from him who sat cower- ing there. There was no place for pity in Miless heart just then; it was because he dared not trust himself near Arthur Corbett that he drew a pace backward; and as he stood there, with arms tightly folded, his eyes gleam- ed more felly than they bad done when he first heard the ill tidings. So thats it, he said, low and bitterly. She fooled you, too, did she? Thereyou neednt babbleI know, somehow, it was no worse, or my hands would be nearer your throat now. But I wish I had guessed it sooner; I wouldnt have wasted this half hour. The banker started up, striving hard to com- pose his voice and face. You wont leave me so? Youll let me As he turned the door-handle, Shafton faced about. Let you help me ? he snarled. Not while theres a purse to be stolen elsewhere. Then he went out. Corbett had the sense to lock himself in; but for many minutes afterward he remembered nothing. He had a vague impression of Em- ma s knocking at the door, and pleading piteous- ly for admittance, and of his having muttered some excuse; but ~vhat words passed he never knew. The suddenness made the blow more stun- ning; yet, of itself, it was sufficiently heavy. In some characters self-esteem is almost a rul- ing passion; and with Corhett now, even the sting of baffled desire ~vns less keen than the consciousness of having been made the stalking- horse of Caryl Glynnes designs, and of having been not only deceived but derided. No won- der that his witsnever of the stablestwent a-wandering. With so black a care peering over their shoulder, stouter horsemen than he have scarce sat saddle-fast. Nevertheless, he had not locked out his better angel. Few of us can afford to be judged after our intentions, and Arthur, rememberwheth- er of his own free-will or nohad been kept from actual crime; and for his sin, whatsoever it was, he did then make sharp; if short, atone- ment. Moreover, it may befor these things are mysteriesthat for the sake of those inno- cents whose welfare was knit up in his, he met with mercy ampler than he deserved. Certain it is that he caine forth from the chamber of his penance both better and wiserso much wiser that, before he slept, he found strength to con- fess himself to Emma, neither concealing nor extenuating aught of the miserable past; and shewhen love and pity had mastered jealous shamefound strength to absolve him. It was long before the old genial light came back to Arthur Corbetts face, and perchance a kind of cloud thenceforth always tempered its sunshine; but not again, I think, till death shall divide them, ~vill he wring from his true wifes eyes tears bitter as those she shed that night when there was none to watch her weeping. Manna distilling from a flint-stone, or a fount. am of milk in the desert, would scarcely seem more curious phenomena than spare cash in cer. tam purses. However, miracles will sometimes happen; and when Miles, on their journey town- ward, revealed his financial difficulty, to his in- tense astonishment he found his comrade able and willing to assist him. How those five crisp notes came into Frank Deeres possession is en- tirely beside the question; it is sufficient to say that he parted without a pang. So, with one worry the less on his mind, Shaf- ton betook himself to Gaunt Street. But little information ~vas to be gathered there. Lady Atherstones own maidtearfully incoherent could only testify to her mistresss having taken ANTEROS. 97 away absolutely nothing in the way of jewels or apparel; even the traveling-bag that always ac- companied her stood locked in its place. The other servants could contribute no facts what- ever, and Miles was in no mood to listen to their previous suspicions or presentiments. Mrs. Shafton, it appeared, though scarcely able to quit her room, had moved to a hotel hard by, and thither, despite the lateness of the hour, her son repaired. But neither here did he obtain any further- ance of his quest. Mrs. Shafton seemed utterly prostrated, both in mind and body, and it was hard to believe that she was the same woman who, all her life long, had shown so brave a front to trouble. That old one of the last straw is among the truest of proverbs. The weary journey may be very near its end, and the added load may seem absurdly trifling; but when the patient beast once sinks down with despair in its big bright eyes, despite of threats or caresses, it is like to lie there till the desert wind comes to bleach its bones. At Miless angry question Didnt you sus- pect any thing ?his mothers wan cheek flush- ed guiltily. Not since I left Templestowe, she mur- mured. I had misgivings at first, but lately I cant tell whyI had begun to feel safe; and yet I ought to have guessed that something was wrong that last evening. She was so loath to leave me; and there were tears in her eyes when she kissed mepoor darling I The other ground his strong white teeth audibly. Poor darling! Then, in spite of all, shes your favorite still ? Isabel Shafton looked up with a flash of her old spirit; but the next instant her weary head drooped. That taunt would hurt, if I deserved it, she said; but you know best, Miles, which of my children I spoiled, and howl have been pun- ished. I think I never can forgive Lena; but I cant help pitying, orGod forgive me, if its wrong~loving her still. He felt he had been unjust, but wrath and shame made him cruel. Be as charitable as you like, he muttered only one saint in a familys enough, and I dont mean to forgive. I suppose you cant help me to track them, mother; and perhaps you wouldnt if you could. Never mind, Ill man- age it my own way. She put out her weak, trembling hand, and caught him by the arm as he rose. Alas! be- fore her wedding-wreath was faded, she had learned to read the augury of a certain look in a Shaftons eyes. For generations past it had been known throughout the country-side that, howsoever slack in other matters, they of Blytheswold were seldom laggards in theirvenge- ance. Despite the faintness that nearly mas- tered her, her great fear enabled Isabel Shafton to speak calmly. VOL. XLIII.No. 253.7 Miles, its useless arguing with you; but, before you act rashly, will you remember Lord Atherstone may be expected home almost hour- ly? Hubert Ashleigh, it seems, wrote to warn him at least a week ago. I heard this from Ma- nan only to-day. Shafton started, and drew himself, as it were, together; like a bull who, while lowering his horns- to charge, is dazzled by the glitter of the matadores blade. Something quite distinct from the differences of age and station had imbued Miles with an awe of the man whose name he had just heard, and, even in the heat of his pas- sion, he felt loath to take Ralph Atherstones quarrel out of Ralph Atherstones hand. As he stood gnawing his nether lip, it was plain he wavered. A creditable thing, too, he grumbled that the warning should have come from a country parson, with all of us to the fore. But it makes a difference. Ill hold on a day or so, anyhow, and only set the wires to work: that can do no harm, and may save him trouble. He paused here, and a shade of contrition came over his sullen face as he stooped to bestow a rough caress. Poor mother l Ive been a bit hard on you, Im afraid; but, with one worry and another, Im half wild. I wont keep you up any longer; you look half dead, as it is. Now try and sleep; you shall hear all that there is to hear to-morrow. That scant amends, though it could not stop the aching of Isabel Shaftons heart, assuredly helped to smooth her pillow. Early the next day, after obtaining renewal of leave, Miles began to track the fugitives, and it soon appeared that the trail was plain enough to be followed up even by a detective. If you remember certain scruples of Glynnes, you will perhaps understand why he took such slight precautions to mask his flight. He had used no disguise, and a double passage from South- ampton to the Channel Islands was secured in his own name. These travelers were scarcely of the com- mon tourist type; so they were easily traced from Jersey to St. Malo, and thence across- country to Porhaix, a small coast town in Fin- isterre. Thus spoke the telegraph; for the tracker chose to remain in ambush, whence he could watch the harbored game till the huntsman should appear; and of all this, within an hour of his reaching hom, Lord Atherstone was made aware. The Baron received the newsbroken to him in Miles Shaftons rough, blundering way with a singular composure; nor did he forget to thank the latter for his zeal, though he decisive- ly declined his company to Brittany. It was impossible to pursue his journey be- fore evening. How that long, lonely day pass- ed with Ralph Atherstone will never be known, for his doors were locked till lie descended to make a hasty meal before starting. It may be for have not men drowsed at the torture-post? 98 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. that he slept. At any rate, when he came forth, though the gaunt, haggard look was al- ways there, his face ~vas comparatively calm; there was not a sign of weariness in his firm, elastic gait, and he carried his gray head as erectly as if he had never known sorrow or shame. THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK. THE reign of Louis XLV., upon whose un- substantial glories French historians of the last age so loved to dwell, was drawing to its close. The nation had seen its intellect and its material resources sink into decay beneath the selfish despotism of its superstitious king. Yet never was Louis more eager for universal rule than in the last period of his baleful career. his wonderful mental activity was unchecked by disasters and physical decay. He built and planned palaces, gardens, water-works; he wasted vast sums in useless wars; he perse- cuted Huguenots; he drove the working-men from his kingdom; he watched with keen at- tention every discontented intellect, and filled his prisons with his personal foes. Of all the various characters in which the grand monarch appears before posterity, none was more admirably done than that of jailer. Not only did he fill the galleys and the common prisons with an infinite number of heretics and reformers, but he was singularly fond of shut- ting up for life his more important foes in some distant donjon or tower, and watching, from his gay palaces and trim groves, their days ebb slowly away in lamentation and decay. He was eager to hear from their keepers how they ate, slept, or looked. He must even be con- sulted when they were bled, or received a pre- scription from the physician. He was glad to know that their linen was washed in the prison, to prevent them from writing upon it in invisi- ble ink, lie read Fouquets miserable scrawl, written with soot and water on a handkerchief; he rewarded his confessor when he consented to become a spy, and to betray him. The mag- nificent Louis told gross falsehoods to the sultan, to conceal his own cruelty to the Armenian Patriarch Avedick, whom he had shut up in one of his dungeons. lie seemed to linger with strange delight over the tortures of his victims. He was scarcely ever weary of repressing their efforts to escape his toils. In fact, humanity shudders at the mingled cruelty and baseness of that renowned monarch whom historians have usually called an example of courtesy and humanity. Louis possessed three towers or keeps, gloomy emblems of the Middle Ages, singularly well fitted to gratify his peculiar taste. At the entrance of the valley of Clusone, in Piedmont, stood the famous fortress of Pignerol. It had been strengthened by all the resources of ancient military art. Wide ditches separated the castle from the neighboring town. A double line of walls, defended by four massive towers, inclosed an extensive area. In the centre rose a square donjon, tall, sombre, massive, with windows closed by bars of iron, frowning gloomily over the pleasant Italian scene. Above its gates might have been written Dantes ominous in- scription: He who once entered its inclosure might well abandon every hope of escape. An- ~ favorite prison was known as the Isles of St. Marguerite. It was a rocky islet on the coast of Provenee. Surrounded by the waves and guarded by incessant vigilance, the prison of St. Marguerite had heard the vain sighs of fallen courtiers and suspected nobles, of Hu- guenot ministers and pious reformers; while through the bars of their windows the captives might catch distant glimpses of the lovely shores of Provence, and of a happy existence in which they were never more to have a share. They pined and died amidst the fairest landscapes of France. The most famous of the state pris- ons was the Bastile. Few but are familiar with the massive pile of circular towers and gloomy walls that once frowned over trembling Paris; with the still and sombre precinct where lived only the jailer and his victims; with the woes, the horrors, the injustice, that made the Bastile the perpetual emblem of regal wicked- ness or priestly pride; with the fall of the mighty tower and the fond hope of the people of every land that with it had disappeared for- everthe tyrannyand barbarism of the feudal rule. Over these three prisons ruled, at successive periods, the commander Sieur De Saint Mars; and under his care, within their solitude, lived and died the Man of the Iron Mask. Saint. Mars, at thirty-five, devoted himself to the pro- fession of a jailer. He attained the highest excellence in his art. His narrow and timid intellect, his ceaseless vigilance, his minute and constant care over the conduct of his cap- tives, seem to have perfectly satisfied his exact- ing master; and he was slowly promoted from prison to prison, until he became, at length, the keeper of the Bastile. Nothing, indeed, could exceed Saint Marss timid conscientious- ness, lie was always in terror lest his pris- oners might escape, and not even the wide ditches, the massive walls, or the frowning don- jon of Pignerol could give him any sense of security. For sixteen years, within its guard- ed precinct, he watched night and day over the miserable Fouquet; he peered through the grated windows, and discovered his prisoner writing with his soot and water upon his hand- kerchief; he detected his sympathetic ink; he climbed every day into a tree that overlooked Lauzuns cell, and carefully noted all his mo- tions; and he sent constant reports to the king, filled with the most trifling details. Yet the condition of the timid jailer was scarcely less unhappy than that of his captives, and he was a prisoner in his own castle. Seldom could he gain a few days of leisure to recruit his health in the sunny scenes of Italy. lIe gre~v prematurely old with mental disquietude and ceaseless toil; his powerful frame was bent

98 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. that he slept. At any rate, when he came forth, though the gaunt, haggard look was al- ways there, his face ~vas comparatively calm; there was not a sign of weariness in his firm, elastic gait, and he carried his gray head as erectly as if he had never known sorrow or shame. THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK. THE reign of Louis XLV., upon whose un- substantial glories French historians of the last age so loved to dwell, was drawing to its close. The nation had seen its intellect and its material resources sink into decay beneath the selfish despotism of its superstitious king. Yet never was Louis more eager for universal rule than in the last period of his baleful career. his wonderful mental activity was unchecked by disasters and physical decay. He built and planned palaces, gardens, water-works; he wasted vast sums in useless wars; he perse- cuted Huguenots; he drove the working-men from his kingdom; he watched with keen at- tention every discontented intellect, and filled his prisons with his personal foes. Of all the various characters in which the grand monarch appears before posterity, none was more admirably done than that of jailer. Not only did he fill the galleys and the common prisons with an infinite number of heretics and reformers, but he was singularly fond of shut- ting up for life his more important foes in some distant donjon or tower, and watching, from his gay palaces and trim groves, their days ebb slowly away in lamentation and decay. He was eager to hear from their keepers how they ate, slept, or looked. He must even be con- sulted when they were bled, or received a pre- scription from the physician. He was glad to know that their linen was washed in the prison, to prevent them from writing upon it in invisi- ble ink, lie read Fouquets miserable scrawl, written with soot and water on a handkerchief; he rewarded his confessor when he consented to become a spy, and to betray him. The mag- nificent Louis told gross falsehoods to the sultan, to conceal his own cruelty to the Armenian Patriarch Avedick, whom he had shut up in one of his dungeons. lie seemed to linger with strange delight over the tortures of his victims. He was scarcely ever weary of repressing their efforts to escape his toils. In fact, humanity shudders at the mingled cruelty and baseness of that renowned monarch whom historians have usually called an example of courtesy and humanity. Louis possessed three towers or keeps, gloomy emblems of the Middle Ages, singularly well fitted to gratify his peculiar taste. At the entrance of the valley of Clusone, in Piedmont, stood the famous fortress of Pignerol. It had been strengthened by all the resources of ancient military art. Wide ditches separated the castle from the neighboring town. A double line of walls, defended by four massive towers, inclosed an extensive area. In the centre rose a square donjon, tall, sombre, massive, with windows closed by bars of iron, frowning gloomily over the pleasant Italian scene. Above its gates might have been written Dantes ominous in- scription: He who once entered its inclosure might well abandon every hope of escape. An- ~ favorite prison was known as the Isles of St. Marguerite. It was a rocky islet on the coast of Provenee. Surrounded by the waves and guarded by incessant vigilance, the prison of St. Marguerite had heard the vain sighs of fallen courtiers and suspected nobles, of Hu- guenot ministers and pious reformers; while through the bars of their windows the captives might catch distant glimpses of the lovely shores of Provence, and of a happy existence in which they were never more to have a share. They pined and died amidst the fairest landscapes of France. The most famous of the state pris- ons was the Bastile. Few but are familiar with the massive pile of circular towers and gloomy walls that once frowned over trembling Paris; with the still and sombre precinct where lived only the jailer and his victims; with the woes, the horrors, the injustice, that made the Bastile the perpetual emblem of regal wicked- ness or priestly pride; with the fall of the mighty tower and the fond hope of the people of every land that with it had disappeared for- everthe tyrannyand barbarism of the feudal rule. Over these three prisons ruled, at successive periods, the commander Sieur De Saint Mars; and under his care, within their solitude, lived and died the Man of the Iron Mask. Saint. Mars, at thirty-five, devoted himself to the pro- fession of a jailer. He attained the highest excellence in his art. His narrow and timid intellect, his ceaseless vigilance, his minute and constant care over the conduct of his cap- tives, seem to have perfectly satisfied his exact- ing master; and he was slowly promoted from prison to prison, until he became, at length, the keeper of the Bastile. Nothing, indeed, could exceed Saint Marss timid conscientious- ness, lie was always in terror lest his pris- oners might escape, and not even the wide ditches, the massive walls, or the frowning don- jon of Pignerol could give him any sense of security. For sixteen years, within its guard- ed precinct, he watched night and day over the miserable Fouquet; he peered through the grated windows, and discovered his prisoner writing with his soot and water upon his hand- kerchief; he detected his sympathetic ink; he climbed every day into a tree that overlooked Lauzuns cell, and carefully noted all his mo- tions; and he sent constant reports to the king, filled with the most trifling details. Yet the condition of the timid jailer was scarcely less unhappy than that of his captives, and he was a prisoner in his own castle. Seldom could he gain a few days of leisure to recruit his health in the sunny scenes of Italy. lIe gre~v prematurely old with mental disquietude and ceaseless toil; his powerful frame was bent THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK. 99 and emaciated; his head was bowed down, his limbs thin and tremulous; he was the devoted victim of his unattractive profession. From Piguerol Saint Mars had been success- ively transferred to Exiles, to the Isles of St. Mar- guerite, and was finally rewarded, when he was about seventy, with the high office of keeper of the Bastile. He left St. Marguerite in the autumn of 1698 to enter upon his new charge. He traveled slowly from the south of France toward Paris, attended by a mounted guard. By his side in a litter, closely covered up, was borne a singular companion. An old man of noble appearance and graceful manners, but whose face was completely covered with a mask of black velvet, fastened by iron clasps, and who never ventured to utter a word, was seen by the curious villagers to descend from the litter, and take his place in silence at the table, when Saint Mars stopped at his estate of Paltean. At meals the captive was always placed with his back to the window; Saint Mars kept pistols near at hand to shoot him should he venture to speak. At night the jailer slept by the side of his prisoner; by day he was shut up in the litter; and during all the long journey from the Mediterranean to Paris no one caught a glimpse of the face hidden beneath the velvet mask, or heard a word of complaint, of hope, or of despair from those mysterious lips. The Man in the Mask, trained by the scrupulous hand of Saint Mars, hadlong learned to obey his terrible fate. The mysterious cavalcade passed slowly on- ward, watched apparently with eager attention by the curious villagers, among whom various traditions were long preserved of the appearance and conduct of the unhappy captive. On the 18th of September, about three oclock, the guarded litter passed the draw-bridge of the Bas- tile, and the prisoner was placed in one of the rooms of the tower of La Bertaudi?3re. Here, for five years, the Man in the Mask is lost to sight. Yet tradition has thrown a faint and doubtful light upon the singular story. It is said that the prisoner was always treated with unusual deference; that his jailer never sat down in his presence; that he was supplied ~vith every luxury; that he was clothed in the finest linen and .the costliest laces, for which he showed an extravagant fondness; that his table was abundant; that he amused his leis- ure by playing on the guitar. But from all intercourse with the world around him he was sternly cut off. His mask was never raised even when he took his food, and orders were given to kill him should he attempt to remove it. An aged physici~in of the Bastile, who had often attended him, stated that he never saw his face, although he had examined his tongue. He was finely formed, said the doctor; his com- plexion ~vas dark, his voice low and soft. Yet he never complained of his condition, nor gave the least indication of who he was. A perpet- ual terror had probably broken down within him every thought of resistance to his royal persecutor. A doubtful story is told that at St. Marguerite the prisoner one day wrote with a knife on a silver plate which he had used at dinner, and threw it out of window toward a boat that lay on the shore near the foot of the tower. A fisherman, the owner of the boat, found the plate and brought it to the governor. He asked the fisherman, in astonishment and alarm, Have you read what is written on this plate? Has any one seen it in your possession? The man replied that he could not read, and that he had shown it to no one. The governor detained him until he had made sure that he spoke the truth, and then dismissed him, saying, It is happy for you that you can not read. Another legend relates that the prime minister of France, Louvois, visited the masked prisoner in his cell at St. Marguerite, and during the in- terview refused to sit down in his presence. He evidently treated the miserable captive as if he were his superior. - For five years the Man of the Iron Mask sur- vived his removal to the Bastile. Winter and summer his narrow cell in the lonely tower echoed to the note of his mournful guitar, al- most the only sound that awoke its utter silence. His youth and manhood had passed away, and he had never heard the sweet voices of sympa- thy, of friendship, of compassion, or of love. The suspicious tones of the cautious Saint Mars, and the stealthy tread of his spies, were the only sounds with which he was familiar. Around him he might hear the murmur of busy Paris; at St. Marguerite he may have caught the roar of the tempest-tossed waves. But he must have forgotten, in his endless captivity, the cheerful sounds of his childhood, or perhaps fancied them revived in the gentle music of his guitar. His mind, no doubt, sank into imbecility in his solitary bondage. It happened to most of the captives of the magnificent Louis to fall into premature dotage, and to die surrounded by mental illusions. Nor could the Man in the Mask have escaped the common fate of Fouquet and Lauzun, of Avedick and the Huguenot ministers. Old age came upon him without reverence and without regard. No friendly eye had looked upon his veiled countenance; no children nor grandchildren cheered his weary hours as they dropped slowly away. The fatal purpose of Louis XLV. was perfectly fulfilled, and the mysterious captive was shut forever from all intercourse with his fellow-men. At last the inevitable deliverance came. in November, 1703, while the great king was wrapped in his scheme of universal rule, or reveling in his gorgeous palaces and gay par- terres, the draw-bridge of the Bastile was low- ered, and a scanty funeral train passed slowly out to the cemetery of the Church of St. Paul. The night was falling, the shadows of evening hid the last funeral rites of the Man of the Mask. Lie had been taken ill a few days before, had sunk rapidly, and died in his solitary cell. Around him were only the cold and pitiless jailers, and no kind words nor gentle faces 100 HARPERS NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. cheered his last hours on earth. He was buried with little ceremony, and no show of regret. Two of the officers of the prison alone followed to the grave him whom credible historians have thought the rightful King of France, and who is shown by all the circumstances of his im- prisonment to have been at least a person of importance. No relative, no friend, was told of his fate, the king would suffer no one to know of his death. As if to blot from existence the very memory of the Man of the Mask, every trace of his residence in the Bastile was destroyed. His furniture and clothes were burned; his silver or metal plates were melted. The walls of his chamber were completely scraped and whit- ened, the ceiingwas taken down and renewed, the floor removed and relaid, and an extraor- dinary care was shown to prevent any written statement of his name and his wrongs from being left in any part ofthe cell. On the burial regis- ter of the church he was called Marchiali, and his age set down as only forty-five; in the rec- ords of the prison he was described as the pris- oner from Provence. lie sank into oblivion, and Louis XIV., no doubt, believed that no one would ever pause to inquire who was that un- complaining victim whom he had so successful- ly hidden from the world, and who had been buried in an obscure grave in the cemetery of St. Paul. But he was strangely mistaken. The very precautions he had taken to hide in obscurity the mysterious prisoner served only to insure him a literary immortality. The iron-clasped mask, the enforced silence, the long and secret imprisonment, the obscure burial, drew the at- tention of the world to the mysterious story. The peasantry of the provinces long remember- ed and related the passage of the closed litter through their villages, and the anxious vigilance of the Sieur Saint Mars. In the court circles it was suggested that a member of the royal family had been unjustly imprisoned by the un- scrupulous king. The Man in the Iron Mask became the Junius of French history; the prob- lem over which grave investigators and pleasant chroniclers speculated in vain. More than fif- ty treatises have been written on the attractive theme. The most extravagant theories have been defended with ardor; the most minute in- vestigations have been pursued. Yet it is still doubtful whether the mask has ever been suc- cessfully lifted from that sad countenance, and whether the pale and uncomplaining victim has ever been clearly identified. One of the earliest suggestions to unfold the mystery was that the Man in the Mask was an elder brother of Louis XIV. This story was told by Voltaire, and found a ready belief in the last century. It has still its supporters. It was said that Anne of Austria had a son, the twin brother of Louis, whom it was necessary to con- ceal in order to prevent a disputed succession. The infant was taken away into Burgundy, and grew up under the care of his governor, Riche lien, as the son of his nurse. He was a fair and graceful young man of nineteen, altogether unconscious of his royal origin, when an unhap- py incident threw into his way a letter which his mother, Anne of Austria, had not prevailed upon herself to destroy. She had resolved, in case of the death of Louis, to call her first-born to the throne. The young prince, excited by his discovery, obtained the portrait of his broth- er. He saw at once the resemblance to him- self; he rushed to his governor with the por- trait and the letter, exclaiming: This is my brother, and this tells me what I am. His conduct was reported at court, and orders were sent down to imprison the unhappy young man for life; and thus, in the romantic legend, it was his own brother against whom Louis had employed all his rare skill as a jaileran un- ceasing vigilance of nearly fifty years. In support of this theory it was urged that the unknown prisoner had always received from his captors a degree of deference paid only to regal birth; that his love for laces and fine linen had been inherited from his mother, Anne of Austria; that his appearance and his manners were noble and commanding. But no eminent person had disappeared from the world about this period, and there was no one against whom it seemed probable tha