Old Haun, the pawnbroker, or, The orphan's legacy
page: 0Illustration (TitlePage) [View Page 0Illustration (TitlePage) ]OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER, OR, THE ORPHAN'S LEGACY. NEW YORK: 1857. "I v R M RE & A U D D 810 BROADWAY. page: 0 (Table of Contents) [View Page 0 (Table of Contents) ] ENTERED according to Act of Congress, in the year 185, by "VERMORE & RUDD, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern Distict of New York. WO. n TnoAMn, NrXmtUs krz. -PUB1T A BUMX-I PRINTslB& C O NT E N T S. CHAPTER I. The Little Family-The Miniature-Anna Hervey and Mich Lynch visit the Pawns broker-Their Interview-The Result-,The Bank-note-Its value-The sorrowing Wife; . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . CHAPTER II. Old Haun gloats over his Prize-Cornell calls-Borrows Fifty Dollars-Receives a Letter from New Orleans and a Draft for $500-Anna and Mich selling Matches, ... . . . ... . . 84 CHAPTER mIl. The Sick Husband-The Wife seeks a Phystcian--The Assault and Rescue-Doctor Foster-Death of Edward Hervey-The Fatherless Child-The Doctor's Plans- The new Home of Mrs. Hervey and Anna, . . . . . . . 50 CHAPTER IV. The Search-Cornell again visits the Pawnbroker--faun exhibit' the Miniature- The excitement of Cornell-The Offer---Haun finds Mich--The seatch for Anna.- Mich and Doctor Marsh-The Schemes of Cornell-The Bargain--the Bond,. 81 - a ctre .a, Ea...; , . * . : . The Guardian-The Story of i rirve -Y l'J of tr. dste iLldget, the e^rvant-Awelcome Christma&Ti o tS1. o* Vloctoir-Fotde . . page: vi (Table of Contents) -vii (Table of Contents) [View Page vi (Table of Contents) -vii (Table of Contents) ] Vi a CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI. Cornell writes to New Orleans-Receives a Reply--The News-Visits Haun-Cor- nell repents of the Step taken-Leaves for New Orleans-The Will of Leonard- Cornell takes possession of the Property-The Obligation-Haun's Letter-The Reply-WMch meets Foster-Visits Anna-The Mystery, . . . 184 CHAPTER VII. The Mother and Daughter-The Clergyman-TherPrayer-The Departed--Affliction of Anna, . . . . . . . . 161 CHAPTER VIII. Haun receives Cornell's Letter-His Resolution-Meets Mch-The proposed Meet- ing-The Result-The Suspicion of Dr. Foster-Haun calls at the House of Dr. Foster-Interview with Anna-Doctor Foster excited-Visits the Surrogate,. 174 CHAPTER IX. Doctor Foster calls upon Haun-His Threat-Returns Home-The Vow of Haun -Again meets Mich--Mich informs Doctor Foster -The Plan-The Plot of Haun, . . . . . . . . . . . .19 CHAPTER X. The Mysterious Disappearance-Effect of Haun's Letter-Cornell, reckless, lives in Extravagance-Haun receives Cornell's Reply-Dr. Foster visits Mr. Pierce, the Lawyer-The Doctor, on his return, finds Anna absent-Offers a Reward-The Search-The Doctor's Despair-Relates the Circumstances to Mr. Pierce-His Advice-The Sheriff visits Haun's Shop-The Premises Searched-Mich's Disco- covery-Searching the Ship-Anna Found-Escape of Haun, . . . 217 CHAPTER XI. The Crowd around the Pawnbroker's Shop-Destruction of the Premises-The Tool of Haiun-He returnsto his Shop-The Arrest-The Bribe and Release--ets on Board of a Vessel bound to Havana--Escapes from the City, . .. . 48 CHAPTER XII. The Joy of Anna--The Doctor places heir 4;iihs Friend, the Clergyman-Con- ult his Lawyer-Mich Occupies a new fStu&tion-Doctor Foster and Anna visit the Country--Mr. Pierce and his Student, . . . . . . a. . 2 gm .onty 2 CONTENTS-. ii CHAPTER XI. ne News from New Orleans-Mr. Pierce writes again-Haun Arrives in New Orleans-Haun calls upon Cornell-The Interview-The Encounter-The Blow- The attempted Escape-The Parsuit-The Capture-Confession of Cornell, . 284 CHAPTER XIV. Haun in Prison--Attempts to Escape-Alarm of the Jailer-Death of Haun-Dr. Foster' obtains the Property--Anna is placed at School-Edward Randall-The two Students, .. . . .. 808 CHAPTER XV. Noon-Day of Life-Anna's Eighteenth Birth-Day--The Party--Its Results--The two Young Men, . . . . . . . . . . . 812 CHAPTER XVI. Snaring the Bird--The Horseback Ride--The Protestations of Edward Randall-The Engagement-Doctor Foster Disapproves, . . . . .884 CHAPTER XVnI. Clouds and Shadows-Randall with his Companions-The Midnight Brawl--Benson meets Mich-Informs him of the Night's Scene-The Sleepless Night, . .868 CHAPTER XVIII. Pressing the Siege-Dr. Foster's Suspiions-Randal urges the Day of Marriage- The Quarrel, . .. . . . .. . 871 ' ) - CHAPTER XIX. Trailing the Fox--Doctor Foster consults his Lawyer-Mr. Pierce engages Mioh in the Scheme-Seeks Benson-.Thelr Walk-Mch couuuhidcates to Mr. Pierce In. formation .obtained-- Randa invites Anna to ride--.The Reoognition -His Employer-The Check and Cash Books-The Discovery, . . .898 CHAPTER XX Setting the Trap-The Mystery-R-andall importunes Anna Hervey--Leaves in Anger,. . . . . . . . . . .414 page: viii (Table of Contents) -ix[View Page viii (Table of Contents) -ix] d VrC OONTENTB. '- CHAPTER XXI. The Expos-Mich's Discovery-His Anxiety-The Letter and Reply-Doctor Fos- ter corinmulicate ilmp0rtant Information, .4.29 CHAPTER XXII. Hearts Vnited--Disappearance of .Randall- Bmna's Twentieth Birth-Day--Tie ngagement-The Wedding-Dar--The buccesful Attorney, . . . 44 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER , - - C 'PTER I* PAWNING THE LOCKET. UPON a miserable bed, in a small attic room in one of the crowded thoroughfares of New York city, lay Edward Hervey. cheerful sunlight strearning m through the narrow wa)nd the gradually inereasing tumult and bustle of life far below, told the sufferer that another night of rest, lessness and pain:had passed. By his side satan u-ntiring watcher; his fond and devoted wife. It was her hand that bathed his- brow -audpt -the cup to his parched lips.' Cold water was-all that she could offer him. . Not a morsel of food was there of any kind; Through the log ad weary honsof the -ghthad sh^b atpa-iestly I* page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 OLD HAUN, THE PAW'NBROKER. by him, soothing, caressing, and comforting him. While herself enduring the cruel pangs of hunger, she had given to her only child, who now lay sleeping upon her little bed in the opposite corner of the rosin, the last crust of which she was possessed. The child slept calmly, forgetful of the want and destitution which surrounded her. There was a small stove in the room, but it'was cold. The little food they had been able to obtain needed no fire to prepare it. It was yet in mild October, and the cheerless prospect of winter with its chilling winds and bitter cold was still before them. Upon one side of the low room, and almost touching the , : ceiling, stood a bureau. It was of mahogany; the fashion and workmanship were old, and told the tale of altered for- tunes-told that this now destitute family had once enjoyed all the comforts and luxuries of wealth. It ill accorded with the- mall deal table, and the common wooden chairs-two : of which in addition to the other articles constituted the X whole of the furniture of the cheerless room. But notwith- standing the appearance of extreme poverty, there was an air of neatness pervading the whole. The sick man moved restlessly, and soon awoke from his unquiet sleep. Opening his eyes he grasped with his own thin and almost transparent hand, that of his wife, and said- "Mary, my dear wife, this cannot last long, God grant for your sake it may not." She clasped convulsively his hand, andtwith all of as P A WNI NG THE L O ,XE Bt. " woman's tenderness and devotedness in her manner and voice, exclaimed :--. "Edward, do not say that, what have I to live for after you are gone? If you only had some nourishing food, I know you would be better." "Mary," said he, "do not even hope that I can be any better. -It is vain to think so, for I am conscious that I am rapidly failing. Do not despair, Remember that Anna will have none left but you when I am gone. Poor child I God protect both you and her. - I little dreamed, Mary, when you became my wife that I should leave you thus ;" and the poor man turned his head away to' hide the tears that sprung to his eyes. For a moment they were both silent; then he turned to her and said:-- "Is Anna asleep yet?" "Yes ; but I must awaken her, for you must have some- thing to eat, and I cannot leave you." "But you have no money, what will you do?" asked he, sighing deeply. "No, Edward; I have none, but there is that miniature of my mother, I can sell that, or perhaps pawn it," and the Tars gushed forth at the thought of parting with this last :- ie of former happiness. It had been retained until she Sad disposed of every thing"'else except the old bureau, --which was worth but little; but she confidently expected that the miniature, being elaborately mounted and finised, would bring a considerable sum. page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] 12 O L D HA , 5 T H E PAWNBRO K E . Rising, she went to the little bed in the corner, and bend- ing over, parted the brown hair from off her child's forehead and kissed her, saying-:- "Anna I darling I come, jump up, and go and get some bread for poor sick papa." The child rose quickly and quietly, throwing her small arms about her mother's neck, crossed the room and laid her tiny hand upon her father's cheek, and'kissed him, saying: "Does papa feel better now?" Mr. Hervey turned his sunken eyes upon her for a moment, gazed into her face without speaking, and then with a voice trembling with emotion, said : "God bless you, my darling, I shall soon be better, I shall soon be out of pain. But is not my Anna hungry?" "No! no!" said Anna, quickly turning to her mother, "but, mother, help me fasten my dress, and I will go and get papa some bread." The poor child looked eagerly into her mother's face, knowing that she had spent the last sixpence for bread the day before, and wondered how they were to buy anlly now. Then she thought perhaps there is something else to sell, for she had been sent out repeatedly of late to dispose of some small article of furniture or of wearing apparel, or some ornament, till she knew of nothing remaining to theil which they could spare. 4-n as her eye glanced around the room she unconsciously gave utters4ce to her thoughts. ' There's nothing but the bureau left, we d4Q w need that now, Ws we have no clothes to, put it*" -PAWNINGO THE LOCKET. 18 Mr. Hervey sighed, and turned his eyes away from his child, for this was the hardest of all his trials. To see his dearly loved and cherished one, so young and innocent, suffer for food while he had none to give. To see, day by day, the frail barriers breaking away between them and utter starva- tion, was too much for him to bear, and he groaned in agony of spirit. "Papa, dear papa, are you in pain?" asked Anna, tenderly. "My darling Anna, what is to become of you, and your poor mother when- I am gone?" - "Papa, don't feel bad," said Anna, while the scalding tears were streamilg down her pale cheek, "I can work. I will take care of mamma. I am going to-day to see if the man in the basement will let me sell some matches for him. He asked me one day if I would like to sell them, and then I could earn some money, and buy you nice things to eat.' The recital of her little plans had already cheered her affectionate heart and dried her tears. "Well, Anna 1 you may try," said her mother, " but you must not be disappointed if you do not succeed, for remem- ber you are but a little girl and not yet accustomed to the rough ways of the world." - "Why, mother, I am almost ten years old, and' I have seen little girls and boys selling matches, who were not nearly as large as I," said Anna, glancinginto her mother's face, to observe the effect -of he remarfk, . - ' "Very well, Anas you ty Ate tqlrd sth l.',f s ;I want page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] " OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. you should go to the grocery whre you bought that bread yesterday, and ask the grocer if he will let you have a loaf, and tell him you will bring the sixpence to pay for it by and by; for I must go out and see if I can get some money. I have that locket and may be able to dispose of it: I must try, if -you do not succeed in selling any matches, but if you can get trusted for a loaf until to-morrow, then I will wait, for I would prefer to keep the picture of my own dear mother if possible. Will you go, Anna?" "Yes, mother, I will go, but I am afraid he will not let me have any bread without money," she replied hesitatingly. "You can try, my daughter, you have never asked him to trust you, and he surely will not be so hard-hearted as to refuse us credit for'one day." Anna immediately left the room and had been gone but a very few minutes, when she rushed in again. Running to her mother, she buried her face in her lap, -and burst into a violent fit of weeping. "My dear girl, what is the matter? He would not let you have any bread, would he? Well never mind, darling, don't cry so. We have the locket left yet, and that will bring bread for to-day at least. We may never know to- morrow. Cheer up, Anna," said Mrs. Hervey, raising the tearful face of her child, and imprinting a tender kiss upon her forehead. "Anna come here to me and tell me what the grocer said to you," said Mr. Hervey, extending his hand towards her. Anna went to her father's side, and then answered. PAWNING THE LOCKET, 15 "He was so cross and spoke so loud that he frightened me, and I hardly know what he did say," "Why, my dear girl,- cannot you remember anything that passed? What did- you say when you went in?" 'I stood by the counter while he gave a man some tea ; after the man left, he turned to me and said, ' I suppose you want some bread, and then he took a loaf and held it towards me, and I said I have not got any money this mornm- ing but I will bring it this afternoon," and, then he got angry, and swore, and said he couldn't support, all the poor in the city ; that he had to pay for :hiM2 goods, and wasn't going to give them away; and there was something too, about cheating and stealing, which I do not remember, for I was so frightened I could not tell him I would surely bring the money, but ran away as fast as I could." "Cruel-cruel man to deny us, starving as we are, one small loaf of bread," groaned Mr. Hervey, as he turned his face to the wall, and drew the scanty covering over him to hide his emotion. Mrs. Hervey approached, saying, "Edward do not let this 4 trouble you, I will go now and sell this locket," looking at one she held in her hand. "Mother, mother, let me go," interrupted Anna, eagerly, "I know where, there is a pawnbroker's shop. I saw one yesterday, right round the corner on Chat ham Street." "How do you know, Anna, that it is'a pawnbroker's shop 2" "Why, Mich Lynch told me -so." page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 OLD HAIUN, THE PAWNBROKIER. "Pray who is Mich Lynch?1" "He is that little Irish boy, who helps me bring the water up stairs ; he is a good little boy, mother. He don't go with those children that live down stairs," said Anna, hoping by this explanation- to secure her mother's approbation of the acquaintance. For Mrs. Hervey had endeavored as much as possible to prevent Anna's associating with the rvile children that thronged the neighborhood to which their poverty had condemned them. "Very well Anna; he is at least kind to assist you; but the next time he comes up with you, bring him in, so that I may see him, and judge for myself. But, how do you know that it is a pawnbroker's shop?" "Mich said it was. He went there and took a shawl of his mother's, and got ever so much money for it. I did not go in, for I was afraid to, but I stood on the steps outside the door; and I saw the three balls over the door. That is the sign, Mich said." t Mrs. Hervey did- not a]swer for a few moments. Her mind ws occupied with bitter thoughts, and she sighed deeply to/hink that her child should thus early learn so much of life's misery and sorrow; but she 4was aroused by her hus- band remarking: "Mary, let-Anna go-don't you leave me-she can get the little Irish boy to go with her, if she is afraid to go alone; for- I must have something to eat. Go, Anna I and hurry back, but don't let the man frighten you. He will not dare to hurt you." - PA WNIi aq I THE LOO:s ET . 17 Anna. took the locket from her mother's hand and went slowly down the stairs and into the crowded street. She stood for a moment looking about, to see if she could get a glimpse of her Irish friend, but, not seeing him she walked along for several blocks towards the pawnbroker's shop. Suddenly she stopped; the repulse of the morning returned vividly to her mind, and she could not approach' a step nearer to the dreadful place. Turning back, she ran with her utmost speed, and without stopping or turning, until she reached the alley in which her friend Mich lived, and there she stopped to compose herself; and then, mastering courage, inquired of a rough-looking woman near, "Mich Lynechl does he live here?" "Indade I an' what if he does, ye little spalpeen? D'ye think so dacent a boy as Mich would be afther wasting his 1 time in playin' wid sich a-sickly-lookin? crathur as ye, are,?" ', I don't want to -play," said Anna, trembling with fear at the rough voice and manner of the woman. "Ye naden't look so frightened; I'm not going to ate ye. Go along in there- wid ye, if it's Mich ye are wanting. He's asy enough to-find widout looking in the'Directhobry, said the Woman, at the same time pointing to- the narrow entrance. Auna followed the direction, and tapping, gently ast the door, a pleasant voice, bade her "come in.") She opened the, door, and there, sitting upon what was intended for a bed, was a young and rather delicate-looking femrale, en- ?deavoring to hush a sickly and emaciated- infait, which she , page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] 18 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBBOKER. held in her arms, by rocking .herself to and fro. Not an article of furniture was in the room. A large, iron-bound deal box, or chest, stood in a corner, which, together with the bed on which she. sat, were the only objects that met Anna's eyes, as she gazed around in search of Mich. ,The woman noticed her inquiring look, and asked: "Was it Mich you were looking after?" "Yes, ma'am ; I was told that Mich. lived here, and. I want to see him a minute." "Well, sit down on the chest, and wait a bit.., He will be here directly. What might ye be after wanting of Mich? Are ye the little girl that lives in the next street?" "Yes, ma'am. I live upstairs in the big house. My father is very sick, and my mother gave cme this to go and get some vmoney. I was afraid to go alone, and have come to see if Mich would go with me." The woman said no more, but gave her whole attention to the child in her arms. Anna quietly awaited the arrival of Mich. She did not wait long, however, for soon he came runming into the room, all out of breath, and going to his mother, laid a loaf of bread and 'a piece of cheese in her lap, saying: "There's the nice breakfast for ye. Now jist give Jouny a piece of that beautiful bread and he'll whist-won't you, Jonny, darlint?" then turning, he spied Anna, and said, "Anna Hervey I and why did you come here? Did you want me V' "I Yes, Mich ; I came to see if you would go with me to P AWNING THE LOOXET. 19 the store'where you took your motherfs shawl," said Anna, going to him and speaking Softly. An' sure I will; but what have ye got to sell 2" "This locket." "Sure, it's a beautiful one. Is it gould?" "Yes, pure gold, mother says. The man- ought to- give me a good deal of money for it ; it cost a great deal ; and besides, it's the picture of my grandmother." "Och! it's not that he'll care for, but it's the gould that'll warm his heart towards ye." "Can you go with me now, Mich? I must hurry," said Anna ; and her eyes were fixed on Jonny, who sat greedily devouring his bread, Mich glanced up from the glittering ornament in his hand, and observing the direction of Anna's eyes, read at once their meaning ; and, with a delicacy prompted Zy the kind- ness of his heart, went and broke off a large piece of the loaf' he had given his mother, and put it into Anna's hand, saying :- "Niver doubt the honest gintleman 'll keep us waiting long enough; he'll niver hurry himself till he sees- the glitter/ of gould, and yell sure be hungry, so ate this bit as fast as iver ye can." .. Without waiting for a reply he turned to his mother, and said: '-I Pll be back by the time ye and Jonny have finished the nice- bread," and started, taking Anna by the handlbut before he could leave the room, his mother called him saying: page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] 20 OLD HAIN, THE PAWNBROKER. '"Mich my boy, are ye goin' widout atin' a bit? Sure ye'll be starvin' if you stay out long." "No ; not a whit, not a crumb, ye'll ate it all yourself. I'll not starve at all. Indade, and I couldn't ate if I should thry. Come, Anna." And Mich hurried Anna out of the room, and along the filthy stairway till they entered the street ; then they went more slowly, for neither was anxious to enter- the pawnbro- ker's shop. But finally the dreaded place was reached, and there, upon the steps they stopped to consult. Mich was the' first to speak. "Anna, how much money are ye hopin' to get?" "I don't know, but as much as I can, for we are so hun- gry, and I must hurry. Oh I Mich won't you nsk? Well, let's go in, now," said Anna, trembling with fear. "Och I 4pn't ye be trembling so, I'll- take care of ye. Come' along wid me an' I'll do the spakin', and ye needn't open yer head at all." Cautiously they opened the door, which had but a single blind taken down, and entered the gloomy shop. They stood for a moment looking- about them. Mich to listen for the approach of the old manl; Anna, to examine the singular arrangement of the place. She had never seen the like before, and it had all the charm of novelty to her childish eye. On one side of the narrow shop, were rows of shelves, filled with packages done up in brown paper, and labelled and numbered. On a table near was a strange medley. Old bonnets, shawls, coats, eloaks, lamps, knives, books, P1AWNING THE LOCKET. 21 medical and musical instruments, all old and apparently valueless. In a glass case, arranged for display, were watches, chains, and every kind of ornament of ancient and modern style, in fact everything that could be possibly desired either for use or -other purpose, all of which had either been-.pur- chased by the pawnbroker, or been forfeited by the former owner. Alas I what a tale they told of poverty and desti- tution, of altered fortunes, of crime, or of reckless extrava- gance. On the other side were little stalls where Want could enter, and hide its shame from its neighbor's gaze- and from the world. As Anna advanced and looked into one of the small apartments, wondering what they were for, she saw a counter behind, and also another row of shelves like those on the opposite side, all bearing their dusty burdens, and all in likl. manner labelled and numbered-the accumulation of years. She had barely made these observations, when she -was startled by a hoarse, gruff voice, issuing frotm the inner recess of the gloomy den. "What now.? what are you after? Can't a poor man eat his meal in peace, without being plagued with Pharaoh's plagues. Come I speak, what have you stolen already,?" The children turned instantly, and there confronting them stood Old Haunj as he was usually called. No wonder that one so timid as Anna should tremble, and turn pale at the sight of him. For nature would seemto have exhausted her energies and skill, in fashioning him as a model of Xgi, page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] 22 . OLD HA UNU THE PAWNBROKi ER. 'He was tall and lank, with an ungainly stoop. His limbs were of an unnatural length, while his cadaverous face was rendered still more ghastly by contrast 'with the black and wiry locks which were thrown back from his forhead, and hung down to his shoulders. A chronic rheumatic affec- tion had partially deprived him of the use of his left arm, and drawn it up into an acute angle, while the bony fingers resembled the talons of a bird of prey ready to seize its quarry. He entered, masticating a portion of his breakfast, in the enjoyment of which frugal meal he had been interrupted, being from economical considerations hs own cook and housekeeper. Approaching closely to Anuna., he bent down, peered with his glittering, snake-like eyes, into her own, waiting for an answer. "We came to sell or pawn this locket, sir, and -ot to stale, Id have ye to know, sir;" said Mich, taking upon himself the office of spokesman. The old man paid no regard to his words, for his keen eye had caught the glitter of gold, and quickly extending his hand for the article, said, in what he intended for a very careless and indifferent tone: "This trinket? pshaw, it's not worth the time of talking about. Is this all you've got?" "Indade I its not mine at all, but " "Not yours I and -you expect an honest man like me to buy stolen goods I You young rascal " "If you wouldn't jist be tlkiln' the words but of me J , - PA WNING THS' LOCKET. 23 mouth, I'd be afther tellin' ye. It's not mine, but Anna's here ; and I'm no rascal either, I'd have ye to know. So ye needn't judge a dacint boy like me by yourself, I tell vez." "Well I who are yoi then?" said Haun, laying his bony hand on Anna's shoulder, who shrunk from him and tried to get behind Mich, saying,. in a whisper: "I'm Anna Hervey." "You are? Well I then, where did you get this? -and mind, no lying!" "It's her mother's, and she wants you to give her some money for it," interrupted Mich. "You's better hold your tongue, if you expect to get away with a-whole head," said the pawnbroker; and then turning to Anna, he added, "You don't expect to get much money for this trifle, do you? '! won't sell." . - , "In faith, she don't want you to sell it, but jist to give her atlicket for it," again interrupted Mich. "My young friend," said Haun, turning to Mieh, with assumed calmness, "My young friend, do you see t" "Is it the door ye mane?" "Yes ; do you see that door?" "Sure an' how could a body with eyes in his head help seein' it?" "Now, if you don't stop interrupting me, I'H pitch you out of that door into the street.", "Plase to spare yourself the trouble, sir, I'm not too , ,*- ', page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] 24 OLD HALUN, THE PAWNBROKER. proud yet to walk," said Mich, springing backward, as Haun made a sudden move towards him. The apparent danger of her friend roused Anna's courage, and, she stepped quickly between them, and laying her hand upon Haun's arm, exclaimed: "Don't I don't hurt Mich ; he will be still now; I know he will ;" and this was accompanied with a pleading look towards Mich, which he understood and answered. "Not a word will I be spakin', then at all, if that's what ye wish," said Mich; and turning away, commenced whistling abstractedly. "Will you stop that infernal noise?" "Och I in faith ye're hard to plase Niver a word am I spaki' at all." "Mich I do be quiet," whispered Anna, and then address- -FU- ming Haun, said, "Won't you give me some money for that now? My father is sick and-hungry, and I want to buy some bread." "Oh yes I the, same old story--father sick and mother dlead-of course. Do I look like a bird to be caught by chaff, eh, my little dear?" and he chucked her under the chin. "Not the laste bit in the world like a bird, barrin' the swate voice that ye have," said Mich, softly. But Haun did not hear nor understand him. Anna shuddered with disgust at the contact with Haun's hand, and involuntarily stepped back. "Afraid, are you?" said Hann, and he approached her, PAWNIN-G THE LOCKET. 25 delighting in the terror she exhibited, and was about to take hold of her when Mich stepped up, and said in a very determined- voice: "Come, Anna, we'll be goin';" and then turning to Haun, continued, "If ye're goin' to -give us the money for the por- trait, be afther doin' it; if not, we'll jist lave yer ilegant store at onct, won't we, Anna?" "'Yes, Mich, let's go now," whispered she. "Not too fast; I've got it safely in my hand yet, do you see?"' said Haun, chuckling. Mich looked perplexed, but finally-said, very earnestly, "How much money will ye give her, thin?" "Not much, anyway ; I must see whether it's the real stuff ;" saying which, he entered the gloomy recess, in the back part of the shop, from which he had first made his ingress; and disappeared. - The children stood impatiently awaiting his return. Mich began to feel urgently the' eed of some '4eakfast, and was anxious to leave. Anna whispered to him as they stood waiting "Oh I Mich, aint you afraid of him? I wish I was home. Don't you?" "Sorry a bit am I afraid of the likes of him on me own account, but if we'd only the morey from him, we'd not stay here sure." "Hallo, there you rascal, what are you whispering about? I'm suspicious of you, contriving to rob me,- I know. Iq1 warrant you've' fobbed something already. Get out of my 2 , page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] 26 OLD HA. UN, THE PAWNBROKER. shop ; get out, I say, or I'll call the police," said Haun, un- expectedly entering. "Not a bit of it, till ye give up the locket, and ye'd better call the police too." Haun was surprised and abashed at the nerve and resolu- tion of Mich. The thought had occurred to him as he was testing the gold, and examining the locket, that, perhaps, it might have been stolen, or have been otherwise dishonestly obtained, and when he found it to be of far greater value than he had at first supposed, it had occurred to him that it would be a profitable investment, and a very fair morning's work, to obtain the article for nothing, and knowing that guilt is always timid, he intended to frighten the children into consulting their own safety and leaving the locket. He had been eyeing them sometime through a private aperture, and then attempted to put his plan into operation, but he was disappointed, and therefore quickly added, "The locket I ah, yes. But you said your father was very sick, didn't you?, Poor man 1 Has he been sick long 7" "Ah, yes, a long time." "And in great want,mo doubt?" "Yes ; we have nothing to eat." "And living so near and never let me know apything of it," said Haun warmly, and with assumed indignation. "Couldn't I see the poor man?" "Oh I yes, will you come and visit, him?' answered Anna, overcome by the appearance of genuine sympathy manifested. "In what street do you live?" PAW )s G TH-E LOOKET. 27 Anna. mentioned the street and number. "On the firtoor?" "No; it's on way up to our room." He had put his inquiries in order to learn the circumstances in which the persons applying for assistance were placed, and how great was their actual need, before making an offer, as he made a rule to graduate his loans according to the necessities of the customer, in an inverse ratio-the greater the poverty, -the less was the sum offered by him. After hesitating a moment, "I don't want this trinket; I could never sell it; it is of no value; but I'll give you a trifle for it, as you need money,' said Haun in a snuffling tone of voice, as he handed her a half dollar. - Anna stepped forward, and was about to grasp the money, but was stopped by Mich, who had listen- ed with feelings of gratitude to the charitable remarks of the pawnbroker, and who, although he could not forget some little idiosyncrasies that characterized him in his dealings when he had pawned his mother's shawls, still was willing to believe that, like the fox in the fable, Haun had repented of his evil ways, and was anxious to begin the expiation of his sins, by good deeds; therefore Mich was prepared to listen to some liberal offei from the pawnbroker's lips, but when he heard the conclusion, his anger would not be restrained. "Don't ye touch it, Ann-a,' he. exclaimed loudly. "Its chatin' ye'he is. - The divilPs own father. Bad lack to the day ye were born, an' to the motherthat bore ye," he shouted, turning to Haun, and shaking his fit. "To chate the poor page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] 28 OLD HAUXN THE PAWNBROKER. friendless childer. Ye'd stale the bread from the mouths of the widdy and the orphans. The gould on the potthrait is worth every cint of five dollars, an' ye know it. Anna, don't ye take a cint less. This is the way ye are after help- in' the poor, by chatin' them. God be betnne them and ye foriver, ye, ye--." He would have continued, but Haun now thoroughly aroused, strode forward and grasping him around the neck, with his long talon-like fingers, shook him violently, hissing through his closed teeth: "D imp; I'll stop your noise for you now? Med- dle with my business, will you?" He continued shaking him as his face became livid with passion. Anna uttered a piercing shriek, and rushed toward the door, with the intention of calling assistance. Haun divined her object instantaneously, and letting Mich drop from his grasp, gave him a push towards the door, .exclaiming with an oath, " now leave if you know when you are well off," and turning to Anna, shouted, "Here, girl-wait I say." Anng involuntarily hesitated* "Here's vour money I a five dollar note--it's yours for the picture. 'w, who's trying to cheat? I'd like to know," said he, turning again to Mich. Mich Said nothing more. Anna having received the money, the two walked quickly away. "Did he hurt you, much?" asked Antna, as soon as they were a short distance from the pawnbroker's shop. PAWNING' THE LOCKET. ' 29 "No, not much," answered Mich, "but if I were only a man grown insti'd. of bein' a boy as I am, wouldn/yIlay me beautiful switch of a shillalah over his head?/troth' Id would jist." They hurried on until they reached the stairway leading to Anna's home, and without stopping to take breath, up, up, up their weary way they clambered, till they reached the door of the attic room.' There Micl would have let go of Anna's hand, but she would not permit it, and opening the- door, dragged, rather than led him into the room, exclaim. ing- "Here, mamma, see what I have got, see 1--five whole dollars. Won't we have enough to eat now?", and she laid the money in her mother's lap. , ' "Is this all you obtained for the locket?" asked Mrs. Hervey, in a tone of surprise, "Why, mother, is not that a great deal of money?"' "Yes, Anna, a fortune to us now, but not one quarter of its value. This is your friend I presume." "Yes; mother, this is Mich ; if he had, not been with me I don't know what I should have done, for I was afraid of the old pawnbroker," said Anna, endeavoring to draw Mich towards her mother. "Come here, my boy; I -am very much obliged to you for your kindness to Anna," said Mrs. Hervey, extending her hand to him, but Mich's eyes were bent 'on the ragged cap he was twirling-T his hand, and he made no response. "Ann*a," said Mr. Hervey, in a eheerful' voice, " cannot \-* page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] 30 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. your friend Mich go with you to get us something to eat Bring him back with you," he added, in a lower tone. "Mich, you'll go with me, won't you?-we'll get some bread, and some tea and sugar, and some wood to make a fire, and lots. of nice things, won't we 1" said Anna, as she took hold of Mich's hand, and started for the door, but her mother called her back, saying- "Anna, wait one moment-come here. Remember we must not spend all of this money to-day, for when that is gone we shall have nothing. Get a loaf of broad, and- a little tea and sugar for your father, and bring the rest of the money back to me." "Mother, what shall we make the tea with I we have not a bit of wood." "Whist I Anna, not a word about the wood, it's meself that knows where there's hapes of it for the mere askin'." "Do you, Mich--oh where?" "I'll show ye, come wid me." They both' left the room and descended the stairs as quickly as possible. They sought a different grocery from the one where Anna had been so ill-treated in the morning. Here they purchased the articles desired, and offered the bill ;in payment. The grocer looked at it for a moment, and then eyeing the children suspiciously, pushed the bill towards them, and said-- "I can't take-that-where did you get it?" "Of old Haun the pawnbroker, a'nt it a good bill, sir 1V // PAWNING THE LOOKET. 81 "No-it is not a good bill." "Oh, Mich what shall I do?" almost cried Anna. "Wait a bit darlint--don't ye cry jist yet," said he, and then turning to the grocer, asked in a louder tone. "What's ailin' wid the money?" "Well, boy, the bank is closed, 'and the money is not current, that's what's ailin' wid the money," answered the grocer, with'a grimace and humorously imitating Mich's manner of speaking. "However, I reckon you'll not better yourselves by taking it back to the old rascal-so I will allow you its full value." "And how much can ye give us. for the bill?" inquired Mich. " Just- fifty cents on the dollar, that/ makes two dollars and-a half. The things you have bought come to a half a dollar and there are two dollars to make up the balance." The children took the money and their parcel and started for home. Upon reaching the foot of the, stairs Mich stop- ped and said, "I must leave ye noW, Anna. Me mither'Il be waitin' for me to mind Jonny a-bit." "But you know papa wanted you to come back, so that he could speak to you.' "Blessin's on your purty head an' so he did sure, well I I'll go." They climbed up the stairs and deposited their bundle, and related the new misfortune that had befallen them. at the grocery in the loss of the part of their money. And r ff \ page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] 32 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. Mich finding Mr. Hervey in a quiet slumber prepared to leave, but was detained by hearing. Mrs. Hervey say to Anna. . c "You will have to go and buy some matches, there is not one left." "Oh, yes, and then mother after we have had some break-. fast I can go and sell matches. Mich, will you go with me?" "Yes, indeed, an' if ye're willin I'll go now an' get ye're matches for ye. For I wouldn't wonder if ye were tired a wee bit." "If you will, Mich, take this shilling and go to the store where they make matches just below and buy some,'" said Mrs. Hervey in a friendly manner. Mich took the money and hastened off, and Anna com- menced eating 'a portion- of the bread which they had purchased, with an appetite whetted by her long fast. Mich soon returned with what seemed to them an inex- haustible quantity of matches, which were to constitute their future stock in trade. Mrs. Hervey cut off a generous slice of the bread and handed it to Anna, telling her Mich must be tired after going up. and down stairs so often. Wteh would have refused, but Anna forced it- into his hand and was delighted to see him, notwithstanding his diffidence, eat it so heartily. i "I'll go now and see me mother, and thin if she can spare me from mindin' Jonny I'll be back again at onct, and we'll go- and sell the matches." / PAWNING THE LOCKET. 3S "Very well, Mich, come back as soon as your mother can spare you," said Mrs. Hervey. And then the sick husband and father sipped the nourish- ing draught that had been prepared for him, and ate a few morsels of bread-while a cheerful look flitted over his wan face and animated his features. Then departing Hope came back to rest in the bosom of the sorrowing wife. She smoothed his coarse bed and laid him gently down, still basking in the gleam of sunshine which momentarily dissi- pated the shadows of despair. * ( - . , ,. page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 84 OLD' HAUJ, THE PAWNBROKE R CHAPTER IL CORNELL AND OLD HAITN. ArTER his interview with Mich and Anna, Haun retreated to the remotest corner if his den, to examine and gloat over -"'\ . his prize. To be -able to impose upon those whose pov- erty obliged them to apply to him for aid, was the source of his purest enjoyment. He was happy, both in having defrauded others, and in having added to his own gains. The noise of some one entering aroused him from his pleasant revery, and he thrust the locket into a private drawer, and crept stealthily along to the aperture already spoken of, to obtain, if possible, through-his "loophole of retreat," a glimse of his customer, without exposing himself to observation. He had hardly taken his position when he heard a voice calling: "Hallo there, old covey I where are you burfowing? come out of your hole"-at the same time the owner of the voice entered one of the stalls, and bent over the counter, extending his neck, and trying to peer into the gloom beyond. COB E LL AND .OLD HA UN. va "Well, sir-l what would you have'me to do for you this morning?1' said Haun, advancing, and not thinking proper to take any notice of the roughness of the salutation, as he eyed his customer closely. "I want- to raise fifty dollars on: that watch," said the man, as he placed -upon the counter a valuable gold-cased lever, and looking at the same time into the pawnbroker's face for an answer. "Money is very close at present," said Haun, shaking his head dubiously. "If itWs half as close as you are, it must be hard to get." "We have to be very cautious in our'operations." "Well now, look you--I've no time to lose-nor disposi. tion to dally. Here's a plain proposition: I am i'tiwant of fifty dollars; you have it to lend;. there's my watch as secu- rity; are you satisfied, and shall I have the money? Yes, or no?" "I fancy you'll-have to turn in something more than that, if you get fifty dollars of me," said Haun, glancing at the watch, but not offering to touch it. "Something morel where are your eyes? D-- it, man, look at the thing. It cost me just two hundred dollars not six months since," said the man, at the same time taking the watch from the counter and thrusting it towards Haun, who leisurely took it up. He opened it, and looked 'at it carelessly, turning it about and placing it to his ear without spealing, page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 36 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKEIR. "Well, I might, perhaps, let you- have the amount, deducting the interest," said Haun, akter. deliberating a moment. "Fork it over then, and don't play shy any longer. You pretend to be very indifferent about taking my offer, but you don't deceive me. I know the tricks of gentlemen of your profession too well. That watch has been up the spout before, and for a cool hundred and fifty too. So you keep a close hand upon it, old fellow, till I come again. I want the money for one month only. What interest do you take?" "Twent-five per cent," answered Haun. "Twenty-five. per cent. I well, that is moderate. Did you attend the funeral when your conscience was buried?" "You can take it; or, if you don't like my terms, let it alone, just as you please. BIut not a dollar shall you get from me at a less rate," said Haun, turning to leave the counter. "Well I well9' hand it along ; the money I must have- and what'll be the difference a century hence?" Hann disappeared for a moment, and then returning, laid the money down on the counter with one hand, while with the other he took up the watch, saying, "What did you say your-name was? I've forgotten ; I want to put it in my book." "Well, put it in your book then, it's an honest name, and one its owner is not hamned of, My name is Cornell- James Cornel," a OOBNELL AND OLD HAUN. 37 "Now, give me the ticket and be lively about it, my agreeable acquaintance, for I must be moving," continued he, taking up the money. "Yes sir I there it is, No. 3,051; mind you don't lose it." "Why not?" "Because without it I might not be able to identify you as the owner of the watch." "Perhaps you are troubled with a bad memory. Some people are, at times, but you had better not fail to-have that little ornament forthcoming when I call for it, or times 'll be a great deal clfoser with you than they are now," added Cor- nell as he turned and left the shop. . When he reached the street, he stopped for a moment, and then drawing a long breath, muttered, "Well there's the watch left once more for safe keeping with that dear relative, 'my uncle.' Whew I I'm glad I'm once more out of that dirty den. I'll shake off the dust from my feet, as well as from my clothes as a testimony against it." Proceeding down Broadway, he sauntered leisurely along till-he reached the Astor-House, which he entered and went immediately to his own room. Different articles of clothing were scattered about the floor in the utmost confusion. After sitting for some time in silence, and apparently in deep meditation, he roused himself and co pmenced picking up and packing his wardrobe into a trunk, that stood in the middle of the chamber, and by hard labor, pushing and press. ing, he finally got everything closely packed to his satisfac- tion.- He-then walked towards the window. and wiing the page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 88 OLD HAUN, THEF PAWNBROKER. perspiration from his forehead, gazed on the street, and soliloquized : "Well that's done once more. Now I must go and see if there's a letter. If Leonard don't send me some money ' 7 soon I shall be in a fix. Fifty dollars don't last long. *How- ever, sufficient for the day. Now for the letter," and having first surveyed himself in the mirror, and carefully adjusted his apparel, he left the house and directed his steps towards the post-office. In a somewhat nervous manner he inquired if the southern mail had arrived, and if there was anything for him. To his great joy the clerk handed him a letter. It bore the postmark, New Orleans. "It's the one for a cer- tainty," said he to himself, as he seized it and glanced at the superscription, at the same time placing it in his pocket, and with rapid strides retracing his way to his hotel, and, seeking again his own room. There he closed the door and eagerly tearing open the letter, found his hopes and expectations re- alized, in the receipt of the sought for remittance. Laying the letter on the table he took,up the draft, and -after glanc- ing at the amount folded it up carefully and placed it in his pocket. He then read the letter aloud as follows : Nzr ORLEANS, Oct. 10, 18-. DEzA JMEs:-I have just received your letter of September- 5th, In which you advise me of your want of success in your mission. ' In compliance with your request I send a draft for five hundred dollars. But this must be the last. I am obliged to conclude that you have not been very earnest in your endeavors to find my relatives, or you would certaly have discovered some traces- of them before this. ORn E LL A ND OLD H A UN. 39 The enclosed funds are intended to defray your expenses, until your return home. Your friend and cousin, , I WLLI&uAM LEONARD. Cornell read the letter, muttering "'short and sweet,' but that's always the way in this world-' no rose without some thorn. "Now if he had only sent the draft without the letter I should have been much better pleased. "However one thing is certain, if these relations turn up they become his heiis-if they don't turn up then I'm the Atrump. . "But then, if I don't look for them the old dotard 'll be up here himself soon and perhaps find them and then I shall get no credit, and also no money. If I dp find them I get credit but no money. - "Well, the case is a hard one. But I must make some demonstration, for he has put me on short rations and ordered me home? Now that matter 's settled, where shall I go to look for them. They came to this city, and here they were the last that anything was known of them. I'll look around among the stores to-day, for he was a book- keeper for awhile, and may be still; I do hope for their sakes that they are dead, and happy in heaven i" After finishing this long soliloquy, Cornell started up impulsively, for the purpose of carrying out the idea which had so sddenly taken possession of his mind. page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 40 OID HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. Leaving him to continue his search we will return' awhile to the children. Mich went directly from Mr. Hervey's to his own home, and immediately communicated to his mother the fact of his great luck in getting matches to sell with Anna, and how much- he expected to bring home to her, and that she should have a nice supper too. After he had remained as he supposed long enough to allow the Herveys time for their meal, he started again, saying to his mother as he left the 'room: "Now, mother darlint, keep a good heart, for I'm afther mnkin' me fortun' this very day. Now do ye and Jonny ate all the bread, for in faith I'll bring ye more." "Mich, me boy, ye must stop and ate ; for ye 've not had a bite the blessed live long mornin'." "Och, mother I didn't the Mistress Hervey make me ate till I couldn't put one foot afore the other down the sta:fs- indade an' she did." "Out wid y6 boy, to be after decaying yer own mother," said Mrs. Lynch, with tears in her eyes, for she thought her boy was denying himself in order that she might not suffer. Mich approached his mother and said earnestly, "I'm not hungry at all, and ye know Jonny 'll want some bread before I'm back again, so don't be persuadin' me any longer," and then he left. When Mich arrived for Anna, she was ready and waiting. The little old straw bonnet was tied on, and her mother's shawl wrapped around her, for the wind was chhilly. The CORNELL AND OLD. HAUN . 41 matches were put into a little wicker .basket-one that had been her mother's work-basket, but who had no use for it now, for Mrs. Hervey's. eyes had failed her when her need was sorest. For some time her needle had afforded them a bare subsistence after her husband had become too weak to engage in any labor i then article after article Was sold to procure the bare means of supporting life, until there was literally nothing left to them-and they lived in utter uncertainty of the morrow I Mich and Anna started with their basket of matches- each holding it by one of the little loops of straw that ornamented its sides. After reaching .the street, Anna said. "Mich, which way shall we go?" "We'll jist go slowly like, at first, and see if we can sell some in this street, and then we'll go into Broadway, and mind that ye donft get knocked down in the crowd." "Oh I I do hope we can sell them all. Then we can buy more-I want to sell a great many to-day." ' "Indade 1l and so do I that same, I don't know what mother and Jonny 'll do for 'a male if I don't. Sorry a thing there's lift in the house to ate at all at all. Barrin' a crust of the bread, and that Jonny had for his breakfast. God bless yer father for a kind-hearted gentleman that he is for helpin' a poor boy like me. Its many a day I've been wantin' to sell matches, but not a soul would thrust me for them till now." "Where did you get money to buy bread?" I page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] A4 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "I minded a gintlemfn's horse, and he gave, me sax- pence." "Why didn't you buy matches with that money?" "And lave my own blessed mother to go hungry, and little Jonny too? Och, he's a broth of a boy, is Jonny, he's such takin' ways wid him." "Mich, where is your father?" asked Anna, abruptly. "Dead!" answered Mich, with a groan. "When did he die, and where were you?" continued Anna , "tell me all about it." "Anna, darlint, I jist don't like spakin' of it any more," said Mich, wiping the tears away with his ragged jacket. "Don't cry, Mich, I didn't mean to make you feel bad ;'" and Annsa dried the tears that were already trickling in sympathy down her own cheeks. "It's not yerself, bless yer kind heart I Ye wouldn't harm the worm that crawls, so don't be after cryin' yerself and I'll tell ye alf about it." "No I no I Mich, I don't want you to tell me, if it makes you feel bad to talk about it." "Niver ye care, I'll tell ye now, if yell hearken a bit." "Well then, Mich?" "Sure an' a sad day was it for us when we left ould Ireland; but me father, may the saints rest his soul, got discontianted about the taxes and the government, and it came all of the prastes too, who wouldn't lave him quiet. So we turned our backs upon our home in the ould counthry CORNELL AND OL-D HAtUN. 43 and come across the salt water to Ameriky; then we all took sick, and my father died the very next day afther we I landid." "Mich, how long ago was it?" "Jist a year come May day, an' sure a sorry May day was it for us. We've seen the great sufferin' since we're here. Niver a thing is left to us of all that we brought wid us but the honest hands that kape us from starvin' and the stout hearts that we. have. It's sickness and misfortin' that's done it. For it's ashamed we'd be to let our frinds across the saa know that we left the nice little spot of ground- with its nate cottage where we lived all so aisy and gintale like, to come to Ameriky to beg." "Did you know'any one here when you landed?" "Not a mother's son from the ould counthry, barrin' the poor crathurs that came over in the ship wid us, and they're not the people one would be after 'sakin' out for a helpin' hand in 'sorrow and misfortun'-not a livin' soul this side of the wide saa." - "That's too bad,?" said Anna, sympathizingly. "An' it's yerself that's not much better to do; though ye are in yer own land and wid yer own kin.' "I don't know that I have any other kin ; I never saw any. But I have heard my mother talk, aboa my Uncle William ; I suppose he's dead though." - "An' how long has yer father been sick?" Oh I a long, long time, ever so many'weeks, but I hope he'll be better soon." \ ' * page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] " OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Has he been ailin' all the summer?" "Oh, yes, and last winter too; but then we lived in a nice little house over in Brooklyn; but papa got sick, and so we had to move over here because he couldn't walk so far, and since then we've lived in different houses." "What did he do?" "He wrote in a store, till he got so sick he couldn't write on account of the paincn his side, and the cough, .and then they didn't want him any longer." "But hadn't ye the docthor?" "Yes, a great many times, till we hadn't any more money to pay him, and then he wouldn't come any longer. And besides, papa said he didn't want one, for they always made him worse instead of better, but that was only because he didn't want mother should spend the little money we could get for himself. alone." "Have ye always lived here since ye can remember?" "No ; when I was a little girl, we lived in a small village a great ways from here. I remember how we " "Faith, here we are in Broadway, and not :a sign of a match sold yet. I'm thiukin' we'll not make: ourselves sick wid overatin' to-day, unless we ate the matches themselves, for sorra a thing 'ill there be besides, at, this rate," said Mich, interrupting Anna. So conversing, the two adventurers passed along the great thoroughfare of the, city, endeavoring to dispose of their wares They had waited in vain to have those who rushed by, intent upon their own absorbing business, stop to OORNELL ANOLD OLD HA-UN. 45 take notice of their humble stock. And so, at Mich's sug- gestion, concluded to take the bold. step of accosting those whom they judged might possibly purchase. They met with many repulses, and with but few sales. They had visited most of the hotels and public places, as they wandered on up Broadway, and still had a balance of stock on hand. Beginning to feel tired and hungry, and withal somewhat discouraged, they concluded to turn back, and on their way down call at some of the stores where they had not yet been. They did so, and sold here and there a fiunch, but not enough to exhaust their supply or empty their basket. "Let's jist thry them in here," said Mich suddenly, as they came opposite another store; opening the door Mich cried out, "matches." "What's that? matches?" said a dapper little man, turn. ing around, "that's just what I want, boy. How do you sell them?" "Cint a bunch, sir," answered Mich, eagerly. "Are they first rate? eh I What are you looking at so earnestly, little girl?" "Will you buy some, sir.?" "Why yes, I guess I will, but you don't expect to make your fortune selling matches do you?" "No, but I want to buy something nice to eat for my father," said Anna timidly. "Who is your father? and -why do ft he- buy his own up- per?" "He is very sick and can't work now." page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] t OLD H iAUN) THE AWBnBR U BLJiS t "Is this your brother?" pointing to Mich. "No indade an' I'm not her brother. I'm Mich Lynch," answered the latter eagerly." "Do you own part of the stock in trade?" "What, sir?" "Do part of the matches belong to you?" "Och, is that what ye mane?"Well I ye see, sir, Mr. Hervey, and he's as nice a gintleman as iver lived, sir, he said if I'd go with Anna and help sell the matches he'd give me half the profits, sir." "Well, that's fair, and I guess you are two honest children, so I'lu buy the lot. How much do you ask for them all?" said the merchant. "God bless yer kind heart I Anna, ye can count the bunches, 'tis a cint a bunch, ye know." Anna commenced laying the bunches out on the counter --couting them as she did so. Her hand and voice trem- bling with excitement. "There are twenty-three bunches, sir." "All right. Will you come here again? by the way, what do you say your name is?" "Anna Hervey. Shall I bring you some more matches?" In a few days I shall want more. There are two shillings -that will pay you for these that I have already," said he, handing her the money. Anna took the -money in her hand, saying, "Thank you sir. But, sir --" "What is it?n OORNELL AND OLD HAUN. 47 "There were only twenty-three bunches, which make twenty three cents, here is the change." "Never mind the pennies." "Thank you," said Anna, and "thank ye kindly," said Mich, as they both turned to leave. Upon reaching the street they stopped for a moment to examine the money that they had received-and to count their profits. No miser gloating over hoarded gold ever felt the pure delight that they did in counting and recount- ing their receipts. After their joy had somewhat abated they started for their homes, hurrying along as fast as possible, in order that they might make others partakers with them in their happiness. "Mich, what shall we do now?" said Anna, as they turned into the street leading to her own home. "Well, now I'll tell ye, we'll jist go up and show ye're father and ye're mother the great luck that we've had." "So we will." "See here, mother, see 1" she exclaimed, as she rushed into her own room after climbing the stairs, while Mich more slowly followed after. / . "Hush, hush, Anns 1" said Mrs. Hervey, pointing to the bed, " your father is asleep, don't wake him." Anna then went softly up to her mother, and showed her the empty basket and the money saying, "sold them all, every one, and here's the money." "You are very fortunate, indeed," said Mrs. Hervey, as C74 * page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48 OLD HAU N THE PAWNBROKER. she caught the happy look of Mich, who, with cap in. hand, stood by the half-opened door. "Come here, Mich," she added, "you have been very kind to go with Anna to-day, and we shall hope sometime to repay you. I suppose you are anxious to get home now. So we will not detain you, but as Anna wants to go down to the grocery, you will let her go with you. Now, daughter," she continued, turning to Anna, "you had better go at once to buy what you intended for your papa." Mrs. Hervey sat some moments in meditation, after the children had left, but hearing her husband turning restlessly, said : "Edward, did we awaken you? I did hope you would sleep and would feel better." "It is just as well, I could not sleep on account of the pain in my side, which seems to increase. But my bodily suffering will soon be ended, and then I shall sleep." -v Mrs. Hervey's lip quivered with emotion, and she turned away to hide the tears that started to her eyes. With a strong will she suppressed them, and pressing her hand for a moment upon her aching heart to quiet its throbbing, replied: "Edward, I am going to see a physician and get some medicine for you. I have now the money to pay, so do not object to it." "Mary, my dear wife, I cannot consent to your using the only money you have, in order that you may procure for me that which can be of no permanent benefit.- You know O OORNELL AND OLD HAUNo 49 medicines cannot help me now." .A violent fit of coughing interrupted him, after which he laid back quite exhausted, and Mrs. Hervey did not dare to say anything more at that time. She knew she could not cure him, but did hope she might find something to alleviate his present sufferings. "Papa, what would you like for your supper," interrupted Anna, who had just returned from the grocery with a loaf of bread, "I want to get you something nice." "My dear girl, I cannot eat much, a very little suffices me now," said Mr. Hervey, laying his hand upon her head. You and your mother must eat more or you will be sick. Human nature can't endure every privation. "Edward, Edward, you must keep more quiet, and not ,talk so much." - "I will for your sake." - page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] 60 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKERB CHAPTER III. A THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. MR. HzvrVY felt better than usual, when Anna returned that evening with what she thought would be for her parents a great luxuy. And shwent about lighting a fire that she might prepare the supper. "Now, mother, let me do it all," said she, when her mother would have assisted her, as she drew up the table to the bedside, and spread upon it a clean cloth, The few dishes that they had retained were then placed upon the table, and tea being made, and their supper prepared, they sat dowm. Mr. Heraey had been raised and bolstered up so that he could sit at the table, with the others. Anna her- self could scarcely eat from the excess of joy she felt at seeing her parents once more seated together at the evening meal, a sight to which she had been for some time a stranger. She exclaimed- "Mamma, I knew we would need a candle, so I bought some, and now you won't have to sit all night in the dark with papa as you did last night." THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 51 She. continued chatting away to her parents, telling them of the many to her, amusing things that had occurred dur- ing her day's wanderings, which would now and then elicit a smile and kind word from her dearly loved father. Mrs. Hervey listened abstractedly. A shadowy and undefined foreboding of some coming evil, pressed -like a weight of lead upon her heart. Old associations thronged upon her memory. She thought of the many pleasant days they had passed together, of the many returns of morning, noon, and evening that had found them all gathered together as now, around the same board, before sickness and want came. She thought of the long pilgrimage, hand in hand through life, which had latterly become so lonely and desolate. Her eyes scarcely moved from the face of her husband while A nna was talking ; every change of expression that flitted over his 'wan features, every look and smile were daguerreotyped inher memory. Thus passed some time, until-Mrs. Hervey observed that he was becoming fatigued, and then she said- "Anna, you had better kiss papa good night, and go to I bed. You- must be very tired, you have walked so far to- day." i Anta rose immediately and prepared herself for bed, pro- testing, howeyer, that-she was not at all tired. But her head had not long rest on its pillow ere she was sleeping soundly. "Now, Edwarda, you must lie down, and keep quiet, and perhaps, you'll g to sleep," said Mrs Hervey, addressing -him fte: Anna had gone to bed c page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] 62 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBR'OKER. "Well, I will, if you will promise to lie down too ou must not sit up as you did last night; i will speak to you if I should want anything." Well I I will lie down on Atnna's bed, so that I shall not disturb you if you get to sleep," said Mrs. Hervey. Not that she expected to sleep, but she hoped that he would-be more tranquil if he imagined her to be resting. She laid for a long time until she knew by the manner of his breathing that he was asleep, and then rising and stealing quietly across the room, stood and gazed upon him as he slept, while the scalding tears streamed down her pale and- careworn cheek. She knelt by the bedside and'buried her face in her hands. All was still in the room, a confused murmur floated up from the street, below where the tide of life rushed madly through the thoroughfares of the city. But she felt herself alone. Long she knelt, and when she arose the tears were dried. Looking at the unconscious sleeper again earnestly, she smoothed the hair from his forehead, and again laid her- self down by her child. Mental strength could not resist the impulse of over-wrought nature, and she slept. What a contrast I the daughter, sleeping the deep, un- broken sleep of childhood, with the bloom of scarce ten snmmers upon her cheek, and the mother lying beside her, but with a pale annd careworn countenance on which traces of youthful beauty still lingered, starting with nevotus irrita- bility at every sound that broke the solemn At ilness of the room. Hours passed and the night waned. Mrs. Hervey thought she had slept but a few moments, \t : THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 53 when she was suddenly aroused by the violent coughing of her husband, but she had slept a long time, for it was now past midnight. She started to her feet instantly and springing to his bed-side, uttered a shriek. A dreadful -sight met her eyes, he had burst ,a blood-vessel, and his clothes were saturated with his life blood. She comprehended at a glance the terrible reality; but even then her presence'of mind did not desert her. She wiped his lips, -and wrapping her shawl about her, exclaimed in an agonized voice: "Edward I do not speak-do not try--I must go for a physician. I will not be gone long ," and then seeing that he was attempting, to speak, she added, "Edward, I must go-no I no I do not speak. Anna shall watch beside you while I am gone," and then turning to Anna, who aroused by the noise had started up in bed, said, "Anna 1 come quick; sit here-don't let papa -speak, not one word-I -am going for a doctor." Anna. did as she was desired. Her dark eyes dilated with horror at her father's bloody clothes and deathke countenance. But not a a tear or sob escaped her as she stood and gazed upon him, not for an instant did she avert her eyes, which were fixed intently upon his ghastly face. Mrs. Hervey wrapped her shawl about her and started out to seek medical aid.- As she reached the street she. stood for a mom-eit, uncertain which way to take, and then hurried on. When out of the hearing of her husband, she gave free vent to the consuming anguish that she had so long page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] 54 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. smothered in her breast. But now it would not longer be controlled. The streets were comparatively deserted. But few appeared abroad at that late 'hour, except as, the jaws of some gambling hell yawned to give egress to its reeling and notorious company, many of whom as she hurried past them, would turn to gaze and stare after her, attracted by the horror-stricken expression of her countenance. She hurried wildly on, looking eagerly about on every side for some signs of a physician's abode. After having gone some distance without finding any, she heard footsteps ra- pidly approaching, and immediately a hand fell heavily upon her shoulder and clutched her arm, at the same time a rough voice shouted in her ear- "Where to, now, in such a hurry?" "Let me go ; oh, let me go!" she exclaimed, frantically, as she turned her head towards the intruder, still struggling to hurry on. Her only thought was of her dying husband, she forgot entirely that she was a weak and unprotected woman, that she was alone, with none ;to help her, in the streets of a great city, of a city where crime skulks about nightly in darkness and gloom--and where vice stalks abroad in gorgeous shamelessness, and where innocence shrinks timidly away from contact with those wretched outcasts who have sacri- ficed themselves, body and soul, to man and sin I1 She forgot all, save that her husband was dying-was alone-,and no one near to help him, and again she gasped out, THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. ' 55 "He will die I he will die 1 all alone, and I have left him. You must not keep me." "I don't keep you ; go along and I'll go with you; come 1" said the ruffian, passing his arm around her waist and pressing her to him. But with -almost superhuman strength she pushed him aside, and panting for breath fled away. He followed and she heard his steps as he came up to her, and clasping both her wrists in his hands, held her perfectly still while he peered with a maudlin grimace into her face, saying, "Not so fast, my beauty ; come, give me a kiss--just one -and don't you try to run away. from me again." "For God's- sake let me go ;" shrieked Mrs. Hervey. "Oh I yes, of course, we'll both go, you needn't be so shy-come, where do you- live?" "Is there no help!" "None that I know of just at this minute," said he, mock- ingly, "there's the charlies, but you can't depend upon, them at no time when you want them.' "IMrs. Hervey gave one loud and 'prolonged shriek, and struggled violently, when she felt his hot breath again upon her cheek-at the moment she caught the sound of the watchman's rattle and again screamed, "Help I help 1" as she heard him coming towards them with quick and length- ened strides. The villain, seeing that he was going to be disappointed of his prey, uttered a fearful curse and threw her fromhimn page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] 56 OLD HAU N, THE PAWNBROKER. with such force that she fell violently upon the pavemen and fled. The watchman soon came up, and taking her roughly by the arm drew her upon her feet saying, "What's the row here? drunk? eh I Say I looke here now, what's all this yelling about? Hallo I you-wake up ;" and he shook her till he aroused her from her insensi- bility. As her senses returned,' the condition of her husband rushed upon per recollection and revived her energies. She gasped out, "Oh, tell me where there is a physician, my husband is dying 1" "Your husband I Why, what are you out at this time of night for, if you have a husband?". "He is alone and dying, and I am not near him. Can y6a tell me where there is a physician?" -The discerning watchman 'soon discovered from her voice and manner that her grief-was deep and unfeigned, and he replied': "Was it you I heard scream? It is so dark just in this shadow that I couldn't see any one until I came out of that "Yes, as I was hastening for a physician I was overtaken and assaulted by a rnffisn who fled on hearing your step. But I must go. He may already be dead-will you direct meal THE LITTLE M ATOH VENDORS. 57 "Yes, come along--this way. What's the matter with your old man?" "Oh, he's dying of consumption, and to-night he has burst a blood-vessel in- coughing, and he'll die, he'll die before I can get there," said she, wringing her hands Tn agony. "Not much use getting a doctor, then," he responded, bluntly. "Yes, yes, he must be helped; are we almost there? Faster, faster." "Yes, here it is-right here. This is the one--no I'in mistaken-I don't find his name-he must have moved," said the watchman, hesitatingly, and going info the street to get a better survey of the block. "I have it ; I was mistaken in the house," he continued, as he returned to the sidewalk. "It's this other. house-- this is it-where in thunder is the bell-knob--now I've found it," he exclaimed, as he gave the bell a vigorous jerl, and then waited in silence for an answer. Soon a window was raised above, a head thrus exclaiming: . ': : ':'? ,' :.:?; " : "Hello there, what do you want?" : i "Here's a woman down here, doctor, that wants 0yo ua: ' - good deal of a hurry." i' Be down in a minute,' was the brief replyy, as tfhehad' s, disappeared from' the window, and in a few M:ti;': -l: . heard the key turn in the door which was set wid ot::og : and the doctor inquired: - - * ' Well, what's the matter P" ,:-. 3* page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] 58 OLD HAUN THE PAWNBROKER. I Mrs. Hervey then stepped up, and said: "Will you please to go with me and see my husband. - I will pay you, sir." "I will go certainly, if I can be of any service ; but there'll be time enough to talk of pay when the work is done. But who is your husband, and where do you live? and what is the matter with him?' asked the blunt doctor, all in a breath. "He has got the consumption, I suppose," said Mrs. Hervey, despondingly, and then added with vehemence: "Come quick, if you will go, or he wil leed to death." "So that's it, eh? humph, I see it) all," grunted the doctor, as he walked away, leaving them standing on the steps. "Oh, what shall I do? what shall I do? if he would only go at once," said Mrs. Hervey, bursting into tears." "There, woman, don't take on so. He'll go-to be sure he will. I'd like to see Doctor Foster refuse to go to see any poor creature--either by night or by day-I reckon it's a bad case that he don't try to help. So cheer up, he'll be ready in a minute. There's many a poor man in the ward has reason to bless Doctor Foster, and to remember him, too, the longest day he lives. He's none of your hard-hearted ones, that go only into the gentlemen's houses, where they are sure of their fees. I've known him now, let me see,.it's going on seven years, and I've never known him yet to refuse, either in summer or winter, to go when sent for, let alone the times he has gone of his own accord to visit -TILE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 59 widows and such like poor people, who hadn't the heart to send for him when they knew, they couldn't pay bim." The kind-hearted watchman continued talking in this strain while they were waiting, in order that ,he might- tem- porarily divert the attention of Mrs. Hervey from the cause of her grief. "Tere he comes; I told you so," he joyfully ex- claimed, as the doctor made his appearance, prepared to obey the summons. The latter had added to his apparel. a rough overcoat, while under one arm he held a heavy cane of thorn, with a fancifully carved head of ivory. This was his constant and only companion on his midnight walks through the city. Under the other arm he held a small morocco case of medi- cines. This he carried with him in cases of emergency, -in order that there might not be the delay of sending to a druggist. He locked the door, and plunging both hands into the capacious pockets of his overcoat, briefly asked: "Which way?" "This way, this way," said Mrs. Hervey, starting off rapidly towards her own abode, and turning her head to see if the doctor was following. "Yes, I'm coming ; run on as fast as you please, I'll be close behind you,?' called out the doctor, as he noticed her look. "Well, good-night," said the watchman, as they started page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 OLD HA U N THE PAWNBROKER. "I reckon you won't want me any longer, so I'll be off about my business." Mrs. Hervey stopped at his salutation. She could not let him go without a word of thanks for his attention, although her thoughts were with him she had left dying at home, and she felt that every moment's delay might prove fatal. But she said as she hurried past him : "I thank you very much for your kindness. God will reward you for it." The watchman made no reply, but leaning against a sign- post, gazed after them abstractedly, till their rapid steps took them from his sight, when he glided into the shadow of a building, and resumed his solitary duties. , Mrs. Hervey in her anxiety had reached the stairway. leading to her room some time in advance .of the doctor, and stood awaiting his approach. "You can't mean to say that it is up those stairs," said he, as he drew near and glanced to the top, measuring tht distance with his eye. "Yes sir ; in the attic." "Well, up then. Attic I pretty place for a man dying of consumption. - Want to get pure air, I suppose, but they'll have to get nearer heaven than this to find it in this filthy street. Whew, here's a journey before me; but I must take it slowly. Three times a day up and down these stairs would be about as much exercise as I should want." Muttering thus to himself, the doctor followed slowly after THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 61 Mrs. Hervey up the stairs, and finally stood panting at the top. Before entering, he waited for a moment and looked into the room. At a glance, he comprehended all-poverty --sickness--death. Life's miseries were no sealed book to him. . He advanced to the bedside, took the sick man's hand, felt his pulse, looked at him intently for a moment, shook his head silently, and turned away. As he turned, he observed Anna, who was gazing anxiously' into his face. Her large, dreamy eyes seemed to ask, "Can you help him?"- He understood the mute appeal, and again' shook his head sadly, saying: "No I it is too late." Mrs. Hervey had turned too, and looked into his face, and there read:!pe confirmation of her worst fears before he had uttered the words. She laid her hand upon that of her husband, saying: "Edward, my husband, won't you look at me?" The dying man opened his eyes, and gazed for a moment up into her face, with an expression of tenderest feeling, and then motioned Anna, who stood near, to approach. He placed her where his eyes could rest upon her, and laid his hand upon her bowed head. His lips moved, but no sound escaped them. His wife bent her ear, and heard the whis- pered words: "Mary-God--bless--you-Come-nearer- nearer-Anna-Good-bye." And then he turned his face to the wall to die. A gasp, a sigh, and all was still. "The silver cord was loosed and the golden bowl broken." They page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] 62 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. stood waiting another word, a token of recognition, a pres- sure of the hand, but in vain. They were alone in the wilderness of life-alone 1 A The Doctor came forward and closed the eyes of-the hus- band and father. Then the strength that had sustained the stricken wife deserted her, and she fell senseless, lifeless to the floor. Then did the fatherless child comprehend the measure of her affliction. She knelt beside her mother's helpless form, called her by every endearing name, took her by the hand, and endeavored to raise her from the floor, kissed her lips, cheeks, and forehead ; and pillowed her head upon her arm. As soon as the kind doctor could obtain water, he sprinkled it in the face of the insensible woman, applied restoratives, chafed her hands, and adopted other means within his power, but she revived slowly.- His heart was touched by Anna's sorrow, and he tried in his own peculiar way to utter words of consolation. "Child, child, don't take on so, she's not dead, hearts don't break so easily, though God knows hers must have been sorely tried. Poor thing I poor thing I but the old doc- tor'll take care of you and her too, you see if he don't." "Who is he? I don't know him," said Anna, looking up in surprise?" "Supposing you don't ; I know him. He's somebody that's got neither kith nor kin to care for him. Would you like to live with me?" "I don't know : there's nobodyleft now but mother. Oh I my poor, poor papa, they'll put him in the groud, and I THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 63 can never see him again," sobbed Anna convulsively, as the tears ran down her cheeks, and fell upon the pale face of her mother. By the constant exertions of the doctor, Mrs. Hervey began to recover her consciousness, but was still very weak, although she attempted to rise. "Don't get up now. Lie still and rest you," said Anna, gently restraining her. As the veil of unconsciousness fell from Mrs. Hervey's sight, the dead body of her husband appeared to her, and her seared eye-balls were moistened with tears. From ,under her closed eye-lids they stole, and eased her aching heart. The doctor observing it, rose from her side and left her. He went to the bed and placed the emaciated form of the dead in as natural a position as he could, and covered it over. He then walked up and down the small room revolving in his mind plans for the future. An arrangement had already suggested itself to his mind, which he had no doubt would be acquiesced in by those interested. He knew from their conversation aud- manners, that the persons whom he had that night met in that miserable abode, were not of the mass -that they had moved in a different sphere, and although forced by misfortun to live among the rough and degraded inhabitants of the neighborhood; still he saw that they were-although among them--not of them. He resolved not to desert them, and after waiting for the first burst of grief to subside, he steped up to Mrs.. Hervey and said: "My good woman be quiet. I can do nothing more for you util daylight. So I will leave- you now- and come again page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] " OLD H A UN, THE PAWNBRkOKER. in an hour or so. Can you get up and go to the bed if I help you? Come try." He took hold of her arm and as- sisted her to rise, and with his support she reached the bed and laid down upon it. Anna smoothed the pillow and covered her tenderly, saying: "There, mother, you go to sleep, and I will sit here on the bed beside you." "Yes ; yes, get sleep if you can ; that's good advice, and I'll be back again before long, and hope I shall find you better," and taking up his hat, and putting his stick under his arm, the doctor started for the door, but before leaving he turned back and said: "See here, my little girl, I suppose, you are sleepy, but you must manage to keep your eyes open, for your mother may faint again ; if she should, just sprinkle some cold water in her face, and here keep this bottle of salts, shemay need it ; but don't you let her get up. Mind that, will you?" "Yes sir, but I am not sleepy, not at all," answered Anna, cheered by his kind and affectionate'manner, for she felt in- stinctively that a friend had been raised up for her. The doctor closed the d8or, and left them alone-alone with the dead." For a time they were silent, and then Anna observing that her mother was still weeping, bent over her caressingly and said: "Don't cry, dear mother." Mrs. Hervey drew her to her bosom and embraced her convulsively. Arna now burst forth into a violent paroxysm THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 65 of weeping, and her mother let her rest her head upon her breast and weep till her grief had exhausted itself, then she said, in a low, calm voice: "Anna, my darling, remember that papa ,is happy now ; do not weep for, him; nor wish him back here to suffer. Only strive so to live that we may go to him." "Oh, mamma, mamma, I shall never see him again," sobbed Anna. "Not here, my child, but you may go to him. Think how long dear papa has been sick, and how much he has suffered, and be glad that he is free. Oh, God I thy will be done," groaned Mrs. Hervey, overcome by the intensity of her grief. She would have endured willingly all earthly sufferings if he could have been spared to her. Penury, destitution, starvation, were nothing to be en- dured compared with the death of him shed had loved so long and so well. She felt her utter desolation. Even the child upon her bosom was forgotten in the terrible agony of that moment. She exclaimed with hysterical energy: "Never, never more. It cannot be ;" and then sank down upon her pillow, and rested as if in tranquil sleep. Anna's weary-eye had begun to droop, when she was startled by her mother crying out, "I cannot breathe-give me air---I'm suffocating," as she at the same time attempted to throw off the covering, and-tossed her arms wildly about. "Stand away, stand away; help me, Anna.; will you let me strangle?' Anna sprung quickly to her assistance, page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] " OLD HAUNX, THE PAWNBROKER. loosened her dress, and after awhile succeeded in bringing her out of the hysterical paroxysm into which she had fallen. She became composed, and soon fell asleep. Anna sat down by the bed-side and watched patiently till the cold grey lght of morning appeared. She still sat quietly, fear- ing to awaken her mother. But, oh, how her heart ached with the grief that came swelling up from its pure recesses, and found utterance only in convulsive but suppressed sobs. She thought for a moment of what the doctor had said and felt comforted ; but when it occurred to her that he was a stranger, that they had never met before the last night, the fast-reviving hope died within her. But her doubts were soon removed; for by the time the sun had risen, so that its cheering beams fell upon the floor of the chamber, the door suddenly opened, and the doctor entered. He brought in his hand a bundle which he laid on the table, saying.: "Come here, child, and eat something ; a hard night it's been to you, I'll warrant. Too bad, too bad. Sat right there ever since I left, I know, my good girl; though I had no business to go away and leave you. Didn't sleep any either-might better have stayed-ought to have known better-served me right." Thus he continued mut- tering to himself, as he took Anna up in his strong arms and sat down with her on his knee, and opened the bundle he had brought. "There now, you must eat something; here, take this." THE LIT'TLE MATCH VENDORS. 67 Anna hesitated about taking? what was offered, looking into his -face for a moment, and then glancing towards her mother. He understood the appeal, and added : "Eat, eat, child ; I'll take care that she has something whenever she needs it. She don't want anything now. Sleep is better than bread for her; so eat away," said he, seeing Anna eagerly devour the food that he had brought her. He pressed her slight form closely to himself, mentally resolving that as long as he had anything to spare, she should never again know hunger and want. After he saw that she had nearly finished her meal he' ,aid to her: "Now, my little girl, tell me your name." "Anna Hervey, sir." "Very well. Have you any relatives--any aunts or incles, or anything of that sort?" "No, not one; I had an Uncle William once, but he's dead," said Anna, mournfully. "Left all alone, -then ; but how would you like to go and live with me?" "And mamma, too?t "Of course mamma too. God bless your little heart, you don't think the doctor such a cruel old man as to separate you from your mother-do you?" said he, stroking down her glossy hair; " but death 'll-do that soon enough I fear." Getting up from his seat, and setting Anna upon her feet, he went and looked at Mrs. Hervey, and placing his finger upon her pulse, shook his head, as was his habit when dis. page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] 68 OLD H aUN, THE PAWNBROKER. turbed in his mind, or slightly annoyed, and turning to Anna, who was intently watching him, said: "Let her sleep till I come back, if she will; but if she should awake, give her a swallow of this solution, which I will leave for her. I'll be back again soon," said he, as he disappeared through the door. He had been gone but a few moments when Mrs. Hervey awoke and attempted to rise, but fell back again, from extreme exhaustion, on her pillow. Anna hastened to put the draught left by the doctor to her lips, saying: "Here, mother, take just one taste of this. The doctor left it for yon. It will make you feel better." Mrs. Hervey drank of it, and it seemed to arouse her dormant faculties, for she opened her eyes and looked about the room, saying : ( The doctor, Anna, where is he?" "He has gone again, but he'll be back soon." A gentle tap was heard at the door, which was opened by Anna, and there stood Mich. As he saw Anna, he sobbed out, "I cannot go wid ye to-day, Anna, to sell the matches ; for Jonny, the poor boy, is almost gone intirely, and-me mother's takin' on so, bad luck to the day we iver left ould Ireland." Anna's tears flowed afresh at the sight of another's misery ; she could not speak, but pushing open the door, pointed with one hand to the bed on which lay the lifeless body, while with the other she grasped convulsively his arm. Mich comprehended at a glance, and the sight of her troubles made him forget his own. He knew that he could offer no THE LITTLE MATOH VENDO R8. 69 consolation, and he did not attempt it, but his first thought was of their bodily comfort. "Anna, are ye hungry? shall I bring ye something to ate?" said he after standing for a few moments and contem- plating the sad scene. "No-no I Mich I am not hungry, but I cannot go to- day either--I don't know what I shall do," said Anna. "Is yer mother ailin'?" "Yes I Mich. But the doctor has given her some medi- cine, and she'll be better soon-but oh I my dear father. I shall never hear him speak again ;" and Anna sank down on the floor and gave way to her grief. Mich kneeled down by her side, pulled down her hands from her face, and wiped her eyes with a corner of her apron, saying: "Now don't take on so, Anna ; its no use, ye can't change it-so don't cry afther that fashin', thry to kape a stout heart. Now don't ye, Anna, be takin' on so," while the tears were slowly trickling down his own cheek, but he heeded them not. The sound of footsteps suddenly arrested their attention. They started up, but not before the doctor had observed them-and heard also Mich's, words of consolation. Stop- ping before them he said: "That's a fact boy-there's no use of crying, misfortune and sorrow will come to all of us sooner 'or later. But who are you?" I am-Mich Lynch, sir." "Very likely, but where do you live P' I " page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 70 OLD HAUN, THE PAtXNBRS OKER. "Oh, doctor, this is Mich that went with me yesterday to sell matches, and he came to tell me that he could not go to-day," answered Anna. "Went with you to sell matches? Eh 1 humph I and he can't go with you to-day? No, I'll warrant he can't, nor to-morrow either." "Oh I I must go and sell some, so as to buy us something to eat," said Anna earnestly. "Must? eh I Didn't I tell you about an old doctor that wants just such a little girl as you are to, go and live with him? Don't you believe me? I tell you if you've got any more matches to sell, I'll buy them. But you are not going into the street again to peddle them, that's sure ;" said the doctor, emphatically, as he pushed rapidly by her, and turn- ing to a manathat had followed him-said as he beckoned him to approach, and speaking in a low tone. "There is the body, now do all decently but quietly." And the undertaker advanced to the bed to commence his work. The noise of their entering had aroused Mrs. Hervey, and seeing men in the room she started up. But the doctor laid his hand upon her shoulder and said: "Lie down-you must keep quiet ;" and the doctor stood so as to screen from her view, the attendant, who busied himself about the body. "How do you feel now?" he inquired. "Better-I must get up." "No you must not-lie still, m good woman-I will see that everything is attended to," THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 71 "Oh, sir, I have no money-I cannot pay you. I have only these few things left which will scarcely bury him, and then o "Don't talk of pay, there 'll be time enough for that hereafter-but this is not a suitable place for you in your present state, and although I should be willing to leave matters of business to another time, yet I must inquire what are your intentions for the future?" "I have formed no plans for the future, as yet, doctor, nor do I know where we shall go to, when we leave this room ;" answered Mrs. Hervey despairingly. "It was for this very reason that I inquired," continued the doctor, ",NowF I am a plain sort of a man, and-may speak too bluntly sometimes, and may give offence where I do not intend it-but I am in want of some one to take the supervision of my household-my house-keeper has 'let me, and I have not been able to obtain any one to supply her place. If you would remove to my house with your, child and accept the place ; my doors are open to you as long as you may wish to remain-and you shall find a home for both of you." "Oh! Sir, you are too good. I should be glad to do anything in my power, but I am afraid we should become a burthen upon you." "Never fear, never fear,-well, that's settled then. I will see that everything that maybe necessary be done for the funeral, which had better take- place this afternoon, so that you and Anna can go to my house before night." page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 OLD HAUN, THE PAWN BROK E l: "Must it be so soon? -' Can not you wait till to-morrow?" asked she. "Better not. You must not stay another night i this miserable place. It is hard to part with him, but it will be equally hard to-morrow," replied the Doctor rather abraptly. He knew that it would be better for her, in her then preca- rious condition, to have the last sad rites performed, without unnecessary delay ; that until then there was little proba- bility of her gaining. And although his manner and words might have appeared harsh, still it was for the purpose of sparing her any unnecessary suffering that he desired to hasten the burial. "Do as you think bes'. I leave it to you." The Doctor noticing that the undertaker was about leav- ing the room, turned to Anna, who had been standing near him, since Mich left, during the conversation, and said : "Anna, sit by your mother now, but don't talk too much, be quiet, and I will send something up for her to eat, and for you, too. I rather think you must need something more by this time. I must go now and see some patients, but I'll be back in time this afternoon-remember to keep-quiet." So saying, their kind-hearted friend left them, to send up some more nourishing food from a neighboring restaurant. It soon appeared. Anna's hands trembled with eagerness, as she took the, to her, rare delicaeies from the somewhat as- tonished man. Hardly waiting for him to leave, she ran eagerly to her mother's side, exclaiming, "Look, mother, look, and see what we have got--you must, eat now," and THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 73 seating herself, the two enjoyed, what had been to them ot late a rare luxury-an abundant meal. After they had satisfied their hunger, Mrs. Hervey said to Anna ; "Come, now, my daughter, lie down by me, and go to sleep. You have been awake all night. I will. watch by your dear father's bed.? "No, mother, I will sit by you, I am not very sleepy," said Anna. "I am better now, thanks to the kind Doctor, and shall not need you." "Will you call me, mother, if you need anything?" "Yes. I will not get up," answered Mrs. Hervey. Anna then laid down close beside her mother, and was soon in a quiet slumber. Then Mrs. Hervey laid and pon- dered upon all the sad events of the past twenty-four hours. Every look, word, and tone of the last moments of her hus- band's life came vividly back to her. She thanked God that he had raised up to them, in this their hour of need, a friend, and she prayed for resignation and for strength, to bear up, under the burthen of her afflictions. Some author has truly written, "The rain falls lightly upon the bud--rests upon the bosom of the flower, and weighs down only that which has lived its day." She was the crushed and b en flower. No sun of happiness or hope could ever rise to lift the shadowy mists from her spirit. It had set, in clouds and darkness, long ere her life had reached its noon. She prayed that her dear child might I - M u page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] 74 OLD HAUXN THE PAWNBROKER. never again know the bitterness of this hour. She prayed that He, who giveth food to the young ravens which cry, would not let her little one suffer. f Hours passed, and Anna still slept. No kind neighbor came with aid or consolation. Each one of the many occupants of the house was absorbed with his own selfish wants and troubles. They had not even sympathy to expend upon another's woes. Thus she lay until the middle of the afternoon, when the door was opened by a rough-looking man, who, with the as- sistance of the undertaker, brought in a coffin, and placed it upon the table. They then went to the bed and prepared to remove the corpse. But Mrs. Hervey stopped them, saying: "Not yet-wait but one moment, I must see him once more." The noise they had made in entering had awakened Anna, who started up rubbing her eyes, and hardly comprehending what was passing, but her mother's words had fully aroused her, and she said- "No, mother, you can not get up." "Yes I I can, and must." "Let me help you, then," said one of the men kindly. With their united assistance she rose and tottered to the side of the corpse, opened wide her tearless eyes, and gazed for a moment, and then fainted. The hearts of those rough men were -touched by her grief-they supported her, and took her gently in their arms and laid her on her bed ; put water to her lips, and assisted Anna in her efforts to revive i THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 75 her. She lay for some time insensible, and Anna fluttered around her like a frightened bird. But as soon as consci- ousness returned, she sat down quietly by her mother, and watched the men as they placed all that was left of her be- loved father in his narrow tenement. When they were about to fasten the lid, she started up with an anguished cry: "Oh, let me see him once more." "Come, then, poor thing, but be quick," said one. She leaned over the coffin, but tears filled her eyes. "Come, child," said the undertaker. "Yes, I am ready ;" and she bent over and pressed her quivering lips upon the cold forehead, and then turned away calmly and composedly. But she could not maintain her composure long; throw- ing herself upon the bed by the side of her mother, she wept convulsively., Adnnua, my dear child, be calm," said Mrs. Hervey, as she clasped her to her bosom. Oh, what a refuge are the arms of a mother, what a resting-place her bosom, what love like hers. "One God, one heaven, one mother." And as they lay thus in each other's arms, the husband and father was borne away from their sight forever. In a retired nook they laid him under the sod, and the bustle and tumult of life went on as before. The eccentric, but kind-hearted doctor had made suitable arrangements for a burial-place-a place that they might visit. He had taken a sudden and unusual interest in the page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. family, but why, he himself could not tell. Was it that, as he stood by the dying man, and looked upon his forsaken family, his mind recurred to the time, when he too knelt by a weeping mother's side to receive a dying father's bless- ing? Was it because thought had4 coursed over the years of privation, toil, and patient endurance borne by that mother to keep him, her child, from wretchedness and sin? Was it because, as he looked upon Anna's angel face, he thought how much harder it would be for her, than it had been for him, to struggle with a heartless, selfish world? Whatever may have been his thoughts, or the inducement, he determined that from thenceforth they should be friends, and inseparable. And after having personally superin- tended the' interment, he returned, sadly and musingly, to the city, and set about carying into effect the arrangements pro- posed by himself. He went to his own house, and procured warm blankets to protect the sick woman from the chill winds that were now whistling through the streets; and ascending the stairs entered the room, and said, in a quick tone of voice : "Come, now, we'll move to my house, if you are ready. Come, my little girl, move lively, it's getting dark. Here, put this nice want blanket around your mother, and get her bonnet and your own." Anna brought the browned and weather-beaten straw hat, that had served her mother for a long time, and put it upon her head, and tied it on; and then exerted her own strength THE LITTLE MATCH VENDOR8. " to assist her mother to rise and seat herself upon one of the chairs. "Now, don't faint, my good woman; keep up if you can till we get home, and then you shall take your time at it. Quick, now, Anna, get your things, don't keep us waiting," said the doctor. Anna quickly tied on her bonnet, saying, "Now I'm ready." "What, -without anything around you I wrap something about you, child, it's cold." "I have nothing to put on," said she. "But I'm not cold." - "Well, well, then come along." And they started, he almost carrying Mrs. Hervey. She turned and gave one searching glance about the room she was leaving, and a deep sigh escaped her. The doctor saw the look, and said: "Cheer up, cheer up; you must not give way to grief any longer. You have a child here who is dependent upon you; for her sake try to overcome your feelings. I will see to the disposition of the things that you have left." "Thank you," was all she could say. They descended the long stairs, up which they had so often toiled; with heavy hearts, and entered the carriage which the-doctor had provided to carry them to their new' abode. After passing through several streets they reached the plain and substan- tial residence of the doctor, and, on the stopping of the carriage, the door was, opened by a tidy-looking Irish ser- page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. vant, who seemed to have been on the look-out. She came forward to assist in supporting Mrs. Hervey into the house. How different the scene from that which they had left I A cheerful fire was burning in the grate, which shed a pleasant light and warmth throughout the room. The doc- tor hurried about to see that everything was in order, first here and then there. "Biddy," he called, "get a pillow. Have you got the tea ready as I told you? Hurry yourself now and get a light. What are you in the dark for? Didn't I tell you to have all things in order. Where's the tea? Get a cup quick. It will do her a world of good." "The tay is all ready, sir. Right here upon the table, sir?" "That's right, bring some along and give it to Mrs. Her- vey. You must eat," he said, turning to Mrs. Hervey, " or youll never get strength. Come, Anna, we'll eat our supper while Biddy waits upon your mother.' Here, give me that old bonnet," and taking it from her hands, he gave it a toss and it was soon blazing upon the grate. "Oh, my bonnet! save it; it's the only one I've got," exclaimed Anna, in terror rushing towards the fire. "Well, I should hope it was. I shouldn't want many such. Let it burn, let it burn," said the doctor, chuckling, who felt so happy that he could hardly restrain himself. "It was a good bonnet," said Anna, tearfully. "Yes ; I suppose it was a good one once, a great while THE LITTLE -MATCH VENDERS. 79 ago, but we'll see, to-morrow, if we can't find a better one. Come give me a kiss now, and to-morrow we'll have the prettiest bonnet on Broadway.. You don't think I'd let my little girl wear such a thing ; do you? Nonsense." While the Doctor and Anna were taking their meal, Mrs. Hervey sat and mused. She wondered what sudden impulse had induced him to become her friend. She pondered upon the events of the last few hours. She now saw about her comfort and abundance. But a short time since, she suf- fered misery and want ; all seemed to her more like a dream than a reality. And she was thankful that she had found a shelter, even although a temporary one, from the storms of adversity. After they had finished, and Biddy had cleared away the things, Mrs. Hervey said : "You have taken a great deal upon yourself, Doctor in bringing us here, and I fear we shall burthen you. But God only knows how thankful I shall be for a refuge until I shall become well enough to find some means of supporting my- self and Anna." "Humph 1 with your leave, we'll let that matter rest for to-night. We can talk over to-morrow about means of supporting yourself. Now, you must go to bed and to sleep." At this moment the door-bell rang, and Biddy announced a call for the doctor. "Heigh ho," he sighed as he went out, I wish they would let me alone this evening." He was absent for a moment and then re-entered, and page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 OLD HAUNI, THE PAWNBROKER. throwing open the doors of a room adjoining the one in which they sat, said: "I must go away now, but here is a room that you and Anna can occupy. I have never had any use for it, but it is iust the room for you." "Biddy, did you fix up the room as I told you?" "Yes, sir. As well as I could in the short time you gave me, sir." "Well I well I what there is wanting to-night we'll make up to-morrow ; you can help Mrs. Hervey to bed now, and see that everything is supplied. For I must be off." Biddy and Anna helped Mrs. Hervey into the next room, and into the bed prepared for her, and Anna laid beside her and both soon slept. Mrs. Hervey, after the sad events of the day, turned rest- lessly on her bed, and her mind wandered. Present and future were as nothing. She dreamed of the past. She was a girl again-a simple girl in her own native home, and she roamed through the old maple grove with the schoolmaster by her side, while the fresh breeze of Spring fanned her cheek. The schoolmaster, and then the lover, and then again the husband. But the dream changed, and with a start she awoke, and consciousness brought the stern, sorrowful reality. She slept again, and again her wandering thoughts brought back the joys and sorrows of the past. Thus wore away the night. But the sleep of childhood was undisturbed. Anna slum- bered on as quietly and placidly aes though she had never known either anxiety or grief. THE SEARCHO. 81 CHAPTER IV. L^ THE SEARCH. "WELL, old fellow, here I am again; sooner than you expected I eh? Now for the watch I There's the money," said Cornell, in his usual blustering manner, as he walked into the pawnbroker's shop and laid on the counter a number cof bills. "Ah H-yes Hyour watch," said Haun, hesitatingly. "Y es, my watch." "But I thought you wanted the money for a month." "Well I supposing you did, you find now, that I want it only for ten days, so count the money and stir yourself." "But the interest-I must have something for my trouble. I shall have to charge you the same as if you had kept the money for the whole month." "Oh I hang the interest, take it and count away--or if you can't I will-look I now. Is that a V.? look sharp. Is that an X., and -that, and that, and that, and that too?" said Cornell,. without waiting for an answer as he rapidly shuffled off the notes, and threw them towards Hamu, till he 4* page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 OLD HAUNX THE PAW'NBRO KER., had called off the whole amount. "There, is that enough to pay you? If it is, then produce that chronometer." "You've brought your ticket with you, I suppose?" i "Yes, I suppose I have--here it is, No. 3,051." "All right, here's your watch." "But what trash have you here in this case?" said Cornell, glancing carelessly around .the room, aq he put the watch in his pocket, and observing the case of rings, pins, chains, and other articles glitteringly displayed. He went towards them, and turned the articles over carelessly. Haun advanced and said, "There are some valuable things there. Perhaps you'd like some of them?" "None that I see ;" answered Cornell. "Here's a miniature that I've just bought, finely mounted, and if I am any judge of painting, it was done by a master. None of your common daubs." "Very likely," answered Cornell, without looking up. "You don't often meet with a chance to get such a fine painting cheap-to say nothing of the handsome face," per- sisted Haun, and laid the miniature which he had purchased of Anna, on the counter before Cornell. The latter took it in his hand, looked at it for a moment, and then said with eagerness. "Where did you get this?" "I bought it, where do you suppose?" "When and where?" "Here, in this very place, not ten days since." "Who brought it? tell me quick." THER SEARCH. 83 "Well, that's a good deal more than I know." "You do know ; once more I say who brought it?" "Is it any of your business where I got it, or who brought it? If you've any claims upon it, make them known, I don't believe its stolen goods." "Tell xme who brought it l" shouted Cornell, becoming red with anger, as he thought Haun was trying for some private purpose of his own, to deceive him. "You needn't speak so loud, I am not deaf, and more than that you needn't try to frighten me, I've lived too long in this world to be easily scared; but as you seem to have some sudden fancy for this trinket, and for learning' some- thing about it, perhaps I might give you some information, for a proper consideration of'course, but don't get excited." Cornell stopped and stood a moment gazing at Haun- his first impulse had been to grasp him by the throat, but then he reflected that possibly fortune had discovered to him the first link in the chain of circumstances, which was to lead him to success; in a search which he had undertaken for another, and in which he had hitherto made no progress. He thought that Haun was possessed of information,' hich was very important, and that he must obtain it now or per- haps lose it forever. He therefore, endeavored to suppress his anger, and said with an appearance of calmness : "Haun, you are fond of money, I have not -a great deal to spare at present, but circumstances which I ,need not mention, render it important that I should know who brought this locket here. Name, your price, and tell me." - * \ page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] 84 OLD HA. UN. THE PAWNBROKER. "As sure as there's a God in Israel, I don't know who brought it here. It was a little girl. I never saw her be- fore." "When was it?" "The same morning, or the morning after iyou brought your watch." ( It must be her, and no other-curse my luck. She here, and almost standing by my very side, and I hunting this city over for her in vain. What sort of a looking girl, and how old was she?"- "Oh, she was a mere child-nine or ten years old, I should think. There was an Irish boy with her ; but I don't know where they came from, or which way they went." "That locket can't have gone out of the family. There is no mistake about it. Perhaps she will come again to re- deem it." "No, I bought it of her. I will sell it to you, if you want it so much." "I do want it. How much do you ask for it?" "Twenty-five dollars." "Twenty-five dollars is a pretty large price for such a trinket, considering that it is an old one. You didn't pay over the half of that?" "It cost me just twenty dollars, and I got it cheap, too; but, seeing that you seem to be anxious to get it, offer it to you at a very low rate. You can have it forty-five, and no less." "Very well, It1 take it, oltf^^i^P t)rought it THE SEARCH. 85 here should come again, I wish you would manage to detain her, until you can send word to me at the Astor House ; I will pay you well for your trouble." "What do you call well 2? asked Haun. "I will pay you at a rate, that even you will be satisfied with. Is that enough?" "Yes." "And if you will now undertake to find out where she lives, I'll engage that you shall receive any reasonable price that you can possibly ask." "I will do it ; but I should like to .know what you want of her." "That need not concern you-some family matter, possi- bly-but we have made our bargain. You keep your part of it, and I will mine." ' "Never fear--there 's money to be made. But will you take this picture now?" "Yes, now-there is your moneK But I did not ask you if she told her name ; probably not.' "But she did, though, I asked her name, and she said it was Merwin or Derwin, or something like it. No I let me think," said Haun, meditatively. "Hervey 1. that's it- that's the name. " - "It is the one, by Jove. Haun, do you want to make B your fortune? I know you do; find that girl, and it's made. Not that I care so much myself about it--in fact it's -somewhat against my interest to have her found,-but there are others who are able and willing to pay for it, and ' page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] 86 OLD HAUN, THE PAWN BROKER. they'll do it, too. Only find that girl, and you're a lucky man." "I will do it, if she's above ground," said Haun, as Cor- nell turned to leave. The latter stopped at the door, merely to remark: "I shall be around again in a short time ; and mind and be active, so as to earn the money." After Cornell departed, the pawnbroker counted over the money that he had received, muttering : "Good I twenty dollars clear profit. He's after that girl, ehl I wonder why he's so anxious. There's some- thing about it that I don't understand. Poor folks are not ordinarily so scarce, that they'll bring such a price. Yes, I'll go to work and find her ; but I must make well out of it. But, he's looking for her, too. If he should happen to come .across her first, then my game's up. I'll go to work, at once. I'll go now," added Haun, as he engaged him- self in arranging his wares. After having done this, and carefully locked his door, he took his way down Chatham street, towards Broadway, stopping wherever he saw a crowd of children together to scrutinize their features, and then went slowly along. After reaching Broadway and traversing it a short dis- tance, he turned down Anthony street, where, for some rea- son, he thought he should be successful in his search. He endeavored to recall the name of the boy that had accom- panied Anna, but failed to do so. Still he felt confident he should know either of the children, if he should once again THE SEA R C . 87 see them. But his wanderings, that afternoon were produc- tive of no good results ; for after peering about for several hours the dirty alleys and filthy tenements, which in for- mer days loomed darkly and gloomily up in that part of the city, he returned in a very unpleasant humor to his shop. Withdrawing into the cheerless recess that served as counting-room, chamber, and kitchen, and which was, in fact, as already remarked, the only home he had, he made his supper off a dried herring and a few crackers, and after finishing and clearing away the fragments of his banquet, he found that it had become quite dark, and so returned to his shop, and lighted the solitary lamp, that swung dimly in the darkness, like the waning moon in a fog. He knew well enough that his shop needed none of the allurements of brilliant lights, nor the glare of gilded mirrors to attract those who came to visit him. His constant thought now was, of the ways and means of finding the child, for the prospect of gain made him deter- mined to succeed, and he had a curiosity to learn why Cor- nell was so anxious to find her. He suspected that there was something beneath the surface which Cornell was unwilling to disclose. In fine, he resolved to fathom the mystery and make himself master of the secret, whatever it might be. The gratification of the twin passions, avarice and curiosity, urged him on. The next morning, as soon as he supposed the miserable creatures who lived in B street would be stirring, he .:: page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] 88 OLD IAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. started out again on his search. He fancied somehow that they must be inrthe neighborhood, for it was the abode of a great many of those who, forced by poverty to seek cheap lodgings, were yet not vicious, and therefore shunned the contaminated quarters of the city. His- encounter with Mich had fixed indelibly upon his mind the features of the boy, while he felt certain that he should recognize in an instant the face of the girl. Besides, his mental faculties had been so sharpened by his occupation, that he never forgot a coun- tenance. He had wandered up and down the street for, a long time in vain, and it was getting late in the day. He would not have followed the pursuit so constantly and eagerly, but he feared that Cornell might be engaged on the same errand or might have engaged others for the purpose, and he could not bear the'thought of losing a prize, which he considered in fact already in his grasp. He had also the advantage of Cornell in having once seen the girl. He therefore persevered, but as the morning advanced, he thought best to'return to his shop to attend to the regular business of the day, and so he gloomily withdrew. But in the afternoon, as soon as the pressure of business would permit, and even much before his usual time of closing, he again started out, resolving not to return to light up during the evening, but to continue his labors, for he felt convinced- that it was in that neighborhood that his search was to be crowned with success. He wandered as before, up and down the streets, scrutinizing the features of every child that passed him, until the evening had well-nigh worn away, THE SEARCH. ' 89 when his attention was attracted towards a poorly-clad boy who came whistling carelessly along. He stopped and looked-approached a little, and looked again. Could he be mistaken.. It was Mich. Haun turned so as to meet him in order that he might make quite sure, and that there might be no appearance of design in the action, he allowed Mich to pass him, and then wheeling suddenly around, as if from a sudden- impulse cried out: "Here, my boy, stop a minute-don't you know me? how've you been-?" without waiting for an answer, he grasped Mich's arm, and continued, " you came with the little girl to sell the locket, didn't you?" "Indade an' I did-an' I've not forgotten ye, nor the plisant falin' of yer delicate fingers around me throat ather," answered Mich, in a voice and tone that evidenced but little pleasure in a renewal of the acquaintance. "Did it hurt you?" asked Haun with a grin. "You'd best belave it did," answered Mich indignantly. "Well I well I you mustn't bear malice. By the way, what did you say your name was." "Prehaps I didn't say at'all; but its Mich Lynch if it any- ways concarns ye to know." "Ah, yes, Mich Lynch, do you live about here?" d "Yes, jist forninst the corner there." ".Well, Mich, I was waiting for a friend, and I thought I knew you as I passed. I suppose you want to be going home ; so good night, Mich," saidlHaun, in the kindest man. ner, and started on, but before Mich had had time to turn page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] 90 OLD H A UN, THE PAWNBROKER. around, Haun stopped suddenly and called to him. Was- n't there a little girl with you, Mich, when you came to sell the locket. Her father was sick. Is he better now?" "No!" answered Mich sadly, "he's dead." "Poor man I and where does she live now?" "Jist what I'd be afther findin' out meself if I could; I've not seen her blessed face this many a long day." "Where was she the last time you saw her?" "Up in her home, to be sure." "Where was that?" "Over on G- strate." "Are you sure they are not there now?" "Is it sure that I am, and meself been speerin' around like a ghost, from mornin' till night to get a sight of her?" "Come and show me where they lived." "Faith an' that's easily done," said Mich, starting off with the pawnbroker. He went the more willingly as he saw the anxiety of the pawnbroker to discover her, and hoped through his means to be able himself once more to find her. As they came to a dilapidated and smoky tenement, Mich skipped up the stairs, closely followed by his companion. They reached the attic, and Mich pushed open the door, but all was dark, vacant, and cold. "There, sir, ye see, there's not a soul there," said Mich, stepping back. "How many of them were there?" inquired the pawn- broker, as he gazed into the room. "Only three, and the father's dead intirely." THE SE-RCH. 91 "Perhaps we can find out by some of the people in the house where they went to," said Haun. "Not a bit of it, I've thri dit meself. Sorry a one knows anything about them." "I'll try at any rate. But what have you been looking after them for?" inquired Haun. "I'm lookin' afther them, because they are me frinds, and ; have seen throuble like myself." "Well, what could you do for them, supposing you could find them?" continued HEaun, sneeringly. "Troth, an' there's nothing under the blessed light of Heaven that I wouldn't do for thim, thin," answered Mich indignantly. tHaun did not reply, but went along to a door, and opening it thrust his head in and said : "My good woman, can you tell 'me anything about the that lived above you here?" "The man that died of consumption last week?" answered a coarse woman in a rough voice. "Yes, that's the one." "How should I know? I didn't follow after him to the grave." "But the others-can't you tell where they went?" "No, I have my own brats and business to mind, and don't meddle with other's affairs. But my Bill said that he seed them go off with a man'after dusk, and the next morniWn a cart came and took off their things; and precious few things they had too," page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] ;I OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER . "Didn't you hear them say where they were going?" persisted Haun." . "I've told you all I know about it and shan't tell you anything more," answered the woman, as she turned away. The pawnbroker inquired of others, but with like success. - All that he could learn was that they went away in the even- ! ing with some person. No one knew who, and he was obliged to leave without learning anything farther. But he j felt that he had been as successful as he could reasonably U expect. He had discovered Mich, and doubted not through him to hunt up the girl. He felt that he had sowed the seed of success which with proper attention would germin- :" ate and ripen into full fruition. Therefore, as they were about parting he said to Mich: "Mich would you like to earn something?" "Indade an' I should, sir." "Well I I'll give you a chance; come to me early in the morning." "I'l not fail, sir." As soon as the stores of the city were opened in the morn- ing Mich made his way to the pawnbroker's shop and stood impatiently waiting to learn in what manner he was to be employed, while Haun was engaged in taking down the shutters, and arranging his place of business for the day. After he had finished these duties, he turned around, and seeing Mich, said abruptly : "So you're here." Yes sir, and are ye ready to tell me what ye'd like me to do?" : I,: , S a- :( THE SEARaR . H93 "Of course, I'll tell you what I want of you-the little girl that we were speaking of last night, and who came with you tosell the locket; let me think, what's her name ?" "Hervey," suggested Mich, "Anna Hervey." "Ah, yes! Hervey, that's the name-has got a friend that wants to find her.: He has written to me to seek her out; perhaps he wants her to live with him, s0 that he may take care of her. Now, as I waant to oblige him, I'll give you something handsome to discover where she is. I'll give you, let me think, I'll give you a quarter." "A whole quarter of a dollar ?" "Yes, Mich, a whole quarter of a dollar. I guess that's more than you've had in a long time," said Haun, who began to regret having made so liberal an offer, and to wonder whether a shilling would not have done quite as well. However, he determined to remedy his indiscretion whenever pay day should come, and so said: "Well, now be off, but remember, if you learn anything of her to tell no one but me." Mich was off as soon as Haun had finished speaking. iHe ran home to his mother, and told her of what he considered his good luck-to get paiy for finding Anna Hervey. Just the thing he was himself anxious to do, with or without, pay; and then he commenced his search. Up and down he wandered through the cold and dreary day; .after thinking he saw her in the distance, and as often disappointed. Night came on, and he had accomplished nothing. Cold, hungry, and discouraged, he returned to his mother and to his home. But she had been more fortunate, for she had- page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] " OLD HAJUN, THE PAWNBROKER. obtained something for them to eat; without this providen- tial provision he would have gone supperless to bed. During the sickness of Jonny, Mrs. Lynch, had sat and nursed him constantly, and would have suffered from hun- ger, had not some of her kind-hearted copntrywomen sup- plied her wants. But this they could not continue to do, for it was a difficult matter at all times for them to pro- vide for themselves alone, without sharing with others. And therefore, as soon as Jonny had somewhat recovered, they tendered their services one after the other so as to partially divide the burthefi, in taking care'of him while his mother might be out, endeavoring to earn something for their support. She had sought in vain for work ; no one had any for her or was willing to employ her ; until on the day of Mich's engagement by the pawnbroker, she had chanced to obtain some menial employment,- and with a willing heart had endeavored to do her best. Being, how- ever, unaccustomed to the kind of work, she had not given perfect satisfaction; but her sad face had interested the lady by whom she was engaged, and she therefore, after making -some inquiries, had paid her two shillings, and desired her to come again the next day. Mrs. Lynch felt grateful for the pittance she had received, and although worn out in body, returned with a light heart to her home, to enjoy the fruits of her own toil. Four hours of severe labor for two hillings ; but she was a woman I Yet, who among the opposite sex would have toiled as she had for the paltry recompense of two Phillinigs? even the wood sawyer THE . E A C. - 5 would scorn it. Fortunately there were but few mouths to fill, but how often has the poor widow to provide food, shel- ter, and clothing for a family of from four to six children out of fifty cents per day. [ Let those who spend their time sitting in counsel upon the fancied wrongs of their own sex, give their attention to the real burthens borne by them, and their time would be, well spent, and their exertions rewarded by the blessings of the fatherless and the widow. Let those who claim for their own sex, rights which God and Nature never designed for them, and who waste their means and sympathies upon imagined sufferings, look upon the stern and cruel realities of life, and devote their wealth to succoring the needy, feeding the hungry, clothing the destitute, ninistering to the sick, and they shall find no longer a necessity for drawing upon their imagination for subjects of charity. There is many a poor woman who, like Mrs. Lynch, would gladly provide for the wants and comforts of her family, had she the sinew and strength to wear out in doing so. The two shillings so hardly earned barely provided her- self and Mich, and the still suffering Jonny, w ith:sutiient to scanty blankets, and went to sleep. B ut litt left to them. The contents of their one well-filled chest had gradually gone into the hands of the pawnbroker, fo r the , page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] 96 OLD HAUIN, THE PAWNBRR OKE R. purpose of obtaining money to satisfy the demands of their landlord ; and now, if they should not be able at once to earn something by getting employment, they would be forced to resign even the miserable shelter that they had. But Mrs. Lynch's good fortune cheered thei sad hearts, and they went to sleep that night with hopes of a brighter future. With the first light of morning they were&wrake and np, and their breakfast having been dispatched, they were on their way to the place of the previous day's labor. Mich accompanied his mother, for he wanted to learn where she was engaged, and thought possibly he might find also some- thing to do. But he soon found that his presence was not desired, for the lady of the house said she didn't want allny children about, so he bade his mother good bye, and went away. She whispered to him': "Mich, darlint mid Jonny as much as ye can, and come here at noon and I'l give ye a part of jpe own dinner for yerself and him." Mich went away, and commenced again his search, keep- ing on the look out all of the time for a chance to turn an honest penny. He had wandered into Broadway, and stood looking about, when a gentleman in a single carriage drove up to the sidewalk near to where he stood, and jumping out called to Mich: "Here, my boy, hold my horse a rlunte'; won't you?" "Thank ye, sir," said Mich, springing eagerly forward The gentleman left him and passed -through an adjoining door. He was gone for a long time, but Mich stood quietly THE SEARCH. 97 holding the bridle and waiting for the return of the owner. The gentleman who had? observed, from the window of. the office where he was, Michs care of the animal, was pleased with him, and when he came down to enter his carriage said : "What is your name ?', "Mich Lynch, yer honor," answered Mich, at the same time touching his cap. " Where do you lived? and what do you do ?" "I live with me mother, and do anything that I can get to do that's honest." " Do you like horses ?" "I can't be afther sayin' till I've tried.". " Would you like to take care of my horse ?" "In coorse I would if ye'd shew me how, and pay me for doin' it," " Well, jump up here then and we'll settle the matter by and by, I'm in a hurry now." The gentleman entered his carriage, and at his beck, Mich climbed nimbly up, and seated himself hesitatingly beside him. He then for the first time noticed the meanness of his own apparel, and the contrast between it -and that of his new employer, and a feeling of shame crept over' him; but he was so overjoyed to- find something to do, that all;else was for the.moment forgotten. As they rode rapidly along' his mind was occupied with thoughts of the great delight; with which his mother would learn the glad tidings of his good fortune. Having gone some distance, the -gentleman page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 98 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. drew up before an elegant mansion and alighting, said to Mich: "Now, Mich, hold the horse, don't let him run away with you." "Sorra a fear of that, sir," answered Mich, as he grasped the reins rather too tightly to please the restive and high- spirited animal. "Mich, you'd better get out and hold him by the bridle," said the gentleman. Mich jumped out quickly, for he didn't in the least fancy sitting alone behind the horse, however pleasant it might be to him, when some one else held the reins. The gentleman was absent but a few moments, when he returned and took his seat in the carriage. Thus he con- tinued driving rapidly, and anon stopping at some residence for a few minutes, till Mich began to wonder what he could be after-but his curiosity was soon gratified for the gentle- man looking at his watch, said: "Well, Mich, I shall not want you any more to-day. How would you like to hold my horse every day?" Nothin' better, sir, if ye'd pay me for it." "Certainly I shall pay you. How much would you want?" "Anything ye plase, sir." "I think we shall agree then. I'll direct you to the stable, and then you can go alone next time; all I shall want of you will be to drive my-horse around to my office every morning at nine o'clock, and to hold him for me while I make my THE SEARCH. 99 visits, and to take care of my office. Do you think you can do it, and be punctual?" "Sure, there's nothing so very hard about that, sir." "Well, then, Mich, I will engage you, and I will pay you well, too, and tf you'suit mne I will do something more for you," said Doctor Marsh, for such was the name and title of Mich's employer. Mich saw the horse properly disposed of, and then inquired: ' Do you want me any more to-day, sir?" "I don't wish my carriage after dinner, and as it is near four o'clock now, I shall not need you, but you must take care to be in time to-morrow morning-remember nine o'clock. I had to dismiss the last boy Ihad because he did not attend in time. There's a quarter for to-day. I'll give you two shillings a day if you do well," and so saying, the Doctor put into Mich's hand the money. He did not wait to hear anything farther, but started off as fast as his legs could carry him to the place where his mother was at work. It was a long way, and Mich was tired and hungry when he had reached it. He stood outside, watching eagerly the door, and starting forward, whenever it opened, glancing from time to time up and around at the windows, and finally sat down on the steps, waiting impatiently to catch a glimpse of his mother-for he dared not go inside. He sat until it began to grbw dark, when her day's labor being finished, his mother appeared at the door, ready to leave for home. At sight of him, she exclaimed : "Och I Mich-darlint, are ye starved intirely?" page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] 100 OLD HAUNN THE PAWNBROKER. "In fa'th, mother, there's no use denyin' it, I am that same." "Quick, then, Mich, and ate this, I've saved it from me dinner. What've ye been about the day?" "Indade ye'd better ask-I was holding the horse for the gintleman that's hired me." "God bless him, Mich-an' are ye hired?" "Sure an' I am, and see the silver that he gave me too." "The saints be praised, the lady within hadn't the money, she said, anid that I must wait till to-morrow. I was afraid to tell her that I had niver a crust of bread lift for my sup- per, nor for the childer--but we'll not nade it now." "It's little she'd a cared if ye had a tould her ; but any way, mother, was n't it a mane trick for her to send ye away hungry, after ye're hard labor-perhaps she'll not pay ye at all." "Shame on ye, Mich, to think such a fine lady 'd be afther chatin' a poor body like me." "Small difference 'twixt the two to keep from ye the money ye made to buy bread," said Mich, indignantly. "Och I Mich, ye don't suppose I tould the lady that I was in nade of the money, do ye? Sure if I had, she'd a given it to me." "Troth, an' I wish she had, thin." "Niver ye mind, darlint, we're not starvin' yet," said Mrs. Lynch, as they trudged wearily homeward. When they had reached it, Mich proposed that they should have a fire, and said that he would just step out and gather T HE SEAROH. 101 a few blocks, and then call at the grocer's and buy some- thing nice for them, and for little Jonny, who had been left in the care of a kind neighbor, and whom they had found impatiently waiting their return. Mich left, and soon came with a few pieces of board Which he had picked up, and ob- taining a coal of fire from a neighbor, soon had a blaze, and then they sat down and partook of their meal, and enjoyed the cheering light and heat of the fire, while Mich detailed all the particulars of the day's adventures and fortunes, until the fire burned low on the hearth, when they turned them to their lowly beds, and were soon soundly asleep. Mich went with a light heart the next day to his newly assumed duties, and he gave such satisfaction, that he was permanently engaged at twelve shillings a week. Mich's employer was attracted by his open countenace and intelli- gent look, and became quite interested in him. He had not, by any means, forgotten A'nna or his engage- ment with the pawnbroker, and was constantly on the alert, wherever he went. And on his way home at night he would go by new and unusual routes, and glance at every attic window that he passed, hoping, in some way, to catch a glimpse of her face. For it had never, occurred to him to seek for her in more expensive lodgings, nor to look for her among the host of well-clad children that he constantly met. He continued his search as much on his own account as on account of his promise, for,.since he laid the foundation of his fortune by obtaining such a lucrative situation, he could afford to, be indifferent to the pittance offered to him by the pawn. , , - . . *- ^ . page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] 102 OLD HAUIN, THE PAW*NBROKER. broker, as the reward of his successful exertions. He avoided, for some days, calling to see him, both because he had been better employed, and because, unless he could carry some tidings of the sought child, he would not be a welcome visitor. Thus time slipped away, Mich, in attendance upon the physician, and his mother obtaining through the day work, wherever and whenever she could, and returning at night to her home, where Mich was always ready to relate his adventures. Their united earnings provided them with the necessaries of life, besides paying the rent of the room in which they lived, but nothing more. Several weeks had elapsed since he had lost all sight and trace of Anna ; and winter, with its storms and winds, sleet and snow, had fairly set in. Christmas time was near. Troops of merry chil- dren thronged the bazaars, attracted by the glittering dis- play. But Mich had no money to waste upon trifles. He must be satisfied with gazing through the showy windows upon the tempting treasures beyond his reach, and listening to the careless laugh of those more fortunate than himself, as they issued from the shops, laden with their purchases. It was thus he stood, looking and admiring, before one of the handsome bazaars in Broadway, the evening before Christmas. He was on his way home, and had stopped for a moment to feast his eyes on the profusion of rich and rare articles displayed, when he heard some one exclaim : "See, isn't that beautiful?"The tone of voice pene- trated his ear ; he started, and turned to gaze' after the speaker, but all were strange; he saw no familiar face, yet THE SEARCH. 103 he was sure that he knew the voice-it was that of -Anna. Yet none but well-dressed people were near him. He could not discover the little straw hat and faded shawl in which he expected to find her. Many still stood gazing in at the windows ; many were constantly passing in and out, while others were hurrying past. Mich edged around till he could look into the faces of those who stood there in the full glare of the light. But she was not there. He stood, and watched those going and coming out of the bazaar. But she was not among them. After waiting and looking till he knew it would be vain to wait longer, he sighed and turned with a heavy heart towards home. - He wondered if it could be possible that Anna would forget him. He was sure he never could her. But then Mich was young, and knew but little of the world, or he would have thought diffirently. In the meantime, the pawnbroker had not given up the search. Day after day had he diligently inquired in all sorts of places of all sorts of persons, but in vain. Cornell had visited him often to ascertain if he had learned any- thing of the child. But both were disappointed; and still she was within ten minutes' walk of the pawnbroker's den. It might not appear at all strange at the present day if she had lived in the next building to his, and he not have found her; but in those days it was different. Then a man knew his neighbor, and although the city had even then a goodly growth, still the attempt to find a person whose name did not happen to be in the directory, was not so much like looking for a needle in a haystack as at the; present time. f , , page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104- OLD HAUN, THB PAWNBROKER. On Christmas eve, Cornell again called upon the pawnbro- ker. He found him shivering over a few coals which were smouldering in the grate. He entered the shop as usual, in a boisterous manner, giving the door. a slam, but without closing it; and walking up to the pawnbroker, gave him a slap on the shoulder, exclaiming: "How are you once more, old fellow?" "Shut the door; what's the use of having a fire and paying for coals, if we've got to warm the whole city?" said Haun, querulously. "A fire I ha 1 ha I ha 1 You don't call that a fire, do you?" "What would you call it, I'd like to know?" "I should think you'd lit a cigar and laid it in the grate. In fact, man, you need your glasses on to see any fire at all. Put on more coal; heap it up, let's have a roaring fire ; it's infernally cold to-night."?' "No, I shan't, I'm warm enough. If you don't like it here, go where it's warmer." "You won't, eh? well, then, I will. Here goes. I'm bound to get warm before I leave here," said Cornell, as he caught up the coal scuttle and emptied its contents into the grate. "d Stop that; you've put on enough to have lasted me all day to-morrow, and it's 'most bed time too; but you'll pay for it some day." And Haun stooped over and picked off with his fingers as many of the pieces of coal as he could before they became ignited. He did not get enraged, as he THE SE A CH. 105 would have done, if almost any other person in the world had presumed to do such an act; but Cornell had a reck- less, devil-may-care way with him, and Haun thought discretion the better part of valor,and therefore concluded to take it quietly, looking to the future for compensation for all damage and suffering, "Let the coal alone now, and get warm for once this winter," said Cornell. "What is it to you whether I'm warm or cold?" "Whether you are warm or cold, not the least concern in -the world, I assure you ; but if you are determined to freeze yourself, you've no right to freeze your visitors. So as we are going to have a little business together, I am going to get warm first." "I don't know whether we are to have any business toge- ther or not." "Well, if you didn't know it before, you'll learn it now ;. we are.- "Well, what is it then?" said Haun, with a stolid expres- sion, and without looking up. Cornell continued-without noticing the question "I've got some business, and I'm going to throw you a bait that you'll snap at as a gudgeon does at a fly. But first, I want some news of the girl. Have you any trace of her? Is your fortune made or not?" "No," abruptly answered Haun. "That's bad. I've got done looking.'-' "You ha'nt found her?" asked Haun anxiously. 5* page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] 106 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "No, I have not, and what's more I don't expect to, and what's more still, I don't want to," said CornellU "Why, what's come over you?" asked Haun. Cornell did not reply, but looked fixedly at Haun a mo- ment and then said: "Haun, I told you I'd got some business with you. I've got an idea of something whereby we can both of us make a trifle, if you are willing." "Willing I why not. I'm always ready to make money- now what is it?" "All in due time. I told you I had got an idea-it came to me suddenly-and now I can't get rid of it-strange I never thought of it before--it's worth a mine. But you need'nt look any longer for that girl, I don't want to find her." "What the devil are you driving at? Why don't you speak out at once?" "Old map," said Cornell, laying his hand upon the pawn- broker's knee, "I believe you've got the nerve to do any- thing, and have no particular scruples of conscience--that's what's needed. I've got a little scheme to carry out and I want you to help me." "A11 very well, but what do you want? If you've got anything to say why say it, and then have done." "Softly, softly, don't get impatiefit. It's a letter that I want you to write for me. I'll dictate it, and pay you well for your trouble; but you must keep a close mouth about it." "No you don't, Pm too old for that," said the pawn- THEI SEARCH. 107 broker, starting, back. "No forgery-anything that's not inside of the law, and I'm your man, if there's money to be imade by it ; but no forgery. I tell you I wont." "Shut up your head, you- old fool--there's no forgery nor anything else lthat's against the law, so you need'nt fear. But to tell you the truth, from the good character you bear among your acquaintances, I believe you would as soon as not, cut any man's throat at midnight, if there was money to be made by it, and it is for this very reason that I've come to you. But don't get excited-there's no throat to be cut, nor any crime to be committed-but simply a letter to be written, and it must be done by some one that I can trust under any contingency, and you are the man." "Let me see the color of your money and the thing's done. There's my hand upon it,' said Haun, warmly. "Is there any one about here that can hear us?" asked Cornell, glancing at the windows and doors. "No, not a soul, not a shadow," replied the pawnbroker. "Now what shall I write." "Come a little nearer old fellow, and I'll tell you. I want you to write me a letter saying that Anna Hervey and her father and mother are dead--that you attended them through their last sickness as their physician-that you often heard Mrs. Hervey speak of a relative she had in New Orleans, from whom she had been- separated a great while, and whom she was very anxious to see again-and that you wrote at her request, made before her death, etc.; and then sign your name as physiciau. Will you do it?" page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] "Not until you tell me why you want me to write it. I take no leaps in the dark," said Haun. "If I had supposed you were so very particular I should have said nothing to you about the matter. There are enough others who are willing to turn an honest penny by merely writing a few lines; but as we've begun together we'll go on together. But will you swear never, under any circumstances, in any place, or under any compulsion or per- suasion, to speak of it again?" "Trust me for that. But I don't understand the matter yet, and as I told you, I'll not leap in the dark." "Well, well; I may as well tell the whole story then. You see I have a cousin in New Orleans by the name of William Leonard, who is the- brother of this Mrs. Hervey. He has been a sea captain all his life, and has got together a little property-say a hundred thousand at least. Well, on his last voyage out he got his leg crushed in a gale, by the swinging around of the boom, and has not been -able to movt about since; and so, being obliged to stay cooped up all the time, he begins to think he'd like to have his sister, from whom he's been separated so long, come and live with him, and keep house for him, but he don't know where to look for her. When he got back from one of his voyages to China, he found their mother dead and his pretty sister rocking a cradle of her own. She had married a poor schoolmaster while he was absent, and he was mad enough when he found it out, and immediately left the house; and as the school- master wouldn't let her have any commauication with her 'g^' THE SEA RCH. 109 brother (even if she wanted to-I don't know as she did), he finally lost all trace of them after they moved into this city. But lately, as I said, he is determined to discover them; and so, as he himself could not come, on account of the injury, he sent me -up last May to look for them, and I have. been stopping at the Astor House, and looking ever since; but with no prospect of'success. - Now I suppose you begin to understaand! eh? If Leonard believed them all to be dead he'd give it up and be quiet; and then, T being his cousin, and the only living relative that he would have, he'd just- make me his heir, and then I'd come in for the whole when he dies-which will be before a great while, for he cannot last long. Now you understand the whole thing from beginning to end. Will you do it?" "What will you give me?" ' How much do you want? Set your own price." "Cornell I let us understand each other plainly. You know'well enough that it's not the mere writing of a letter that you are to pay for.- There's a little irisk in the matter for you as well as for-me. I don't know what the law is, nor do- I care. Only let me see my way clear and good pay, and I'll stand by you through thick and thin. " "Yes, yes I now name your price." "You said the property was worth one hundred thousand. Didn't you?" - "Yes, about that, more or less?" . 1. "Then I must have ten thousand dollars; give me your bond for ten thousand dollars, payable -when:;you come into possession, if you obtain it through my, assistance.," - . page: 110-111[View Page 110-111] "O OLD HA UN, THE ?A NBROKER. "Devil I man! what do you mean?" "A tenth is a small share for such a venture, ut then if you can get it done cheaper, do so ; it's all one to me ; there's too much risk in it for me to crave the job." Cornell sat and meditated awhile, and then said, "Well 1 a tenth if I succeed, and nothing if I fail." "No, I must have pay for my trouble, anyway." "Not a cent. I offer you the chance. Take it or not; I'll not bind myself to pay you anything unless we succeed. We take the risk jointly andt share the profits and losses iointly. He's always told me that I should be his heir, and now he's got a crotchet in his head that he must find this sister and her child. I know well enough how it will go if he does find her. She'll get all and I none." "Perhaps he would divide it between you," said Haun. "So I thought once, and would have been very willing to divide, but I got a letter to-day that settled that," said Cornell, producing a letter. "Let me see,it, will you " asked Haun, as he extended his hand. "I'll read it to you. First, though I must explain a little ; I wrote to him sometime in September for more money ; that was a short time before I brought my watch to you, and he sent me a draft for five hundred, and remarked that he thought I was not using my utmost exertion's to find his relatives, and that the trifle remitted must be used in paying my expenses, etc., home to -New Orleans. Well, you see, I prefer living in New York, and you know five hundred dollars does not go far in this city, but I did not TH i E A.-R C H . 1 dare to write to him for more money, and so I sent him word that I thought I had got track of his relatives, and hoped to find them very soon alive, and to restore them to him and all that sort of stuff, you' know. Well, that letter has made him show his colors, and now I'll be hanged if I find them at all, or if I do he shall never know it." "Well I well I read the letter," interrupted Haun. ",Here it is," answered Cornell, reading. "NEW ORLEANS, ovbember 80,18-. "' JAMES CORNELL, New York. . "'MY DEAR SIR :-Your favor has just been received, and I am glad to learn by it that you have at last been able to obtain some tidings of Mary. I wish I could come and join you in the search, but my health will not permit, but let me urge you to leave nothing un- tried to discover her. I am very impatient -after our long separation to see my sister again, for I am afraid that my health is failing, and I should be glad to learn that she is still living to enjoy the fortune- which I shall leave to her. "'* Let me hear from-you as soon as possible, and tell me all the particulars. Your Cousin, "' WILLIAM LEONARD.' " "Well, Cornell, that seems to settle the question pretty positively, don't it? But how comes it that you are so depen- dent upon him?" askedtIaun. ' "My father and mother died of yellow fever when I was but ten years old, and Leonard has always provided for me -clothed me, and sent me to school. He seemed to take a sort of a fancy to me, and I went two trips with him, but I page: 112-113[View Page 112-113] ".Z OLD H A U .N H': aJ J AWN JBJRUOK Ei . didn't like the salt water, so I have been clerking it now for three or four years. But I've got tired of that, too, and have made up my mind to try a little speculation that may pay better." ' "Didn't you ever know'this Hervey family, or see any of them?" "Never but once--years ago-and then Leonard took me up north with him when he went to visit his mother, and I stayed a summer with them, there were only at that time his mother and his sister, who married Hervey the schoolmaster -since then I've never seen any of them, but I knew that miniature the minute I set my eyes on it. It's the portrait of Leonard's mother, who was- grandmother of this child that you've been looking for. The way I became related was this-Leonard's mother and my father, were brothel and sister-my father went down to New Orleans to seel his fortune-married a Connecticut girl that came down there on a visit, and soon both were taken off with thE yellow fever-as I have just told you--and then Leonarc who had been with us a good deal, having often been in port while we lived there, concluded after my father died t settle there, as he liked the city pretty well, and so he tool me along with him, as there was no one else that wantec me. Before his sister married, he was off and on, but afte that, he lived south altogether when he was on shore. H, was a well educated man, and had been around the world s$ much, and got together property pretty rapidly, but alwayl liked the water better than the land." THE SEARCHf. 113 "And now you want him to believe that his sister and child are dead, so that he will leave his property to you?" asked Haun. ' That's it exactly. You just write that letter, and I will enclose it in one from myself and then he will be convinced, and give up'the search." Haun got up and brought paper, pens, and ink, near the fire, and seating himself, prepared to write ;-but before com- mencing, he remarked, as if the idea had at the moment occurred to him- : "By the way, Cornell, that bond-we might as well pre- pare that in the first place-everything in its order, you know." "Very well," answered Cornell. The pawnbroker then proceeded to draw up a bond, with a penalty, setting forth that Cornell his heirs, etc., acknow- ledged themselves indebted to him in the penal sum of twenty thousand dollars, etc., and stating the condition to be that if he the said Cornell should, as soon-as he should enter into the possession, by devise or otherwise, of the property. real and personal of one William -Leonard, then of New Orleans, pay to the said Haun the sum of ten thousand dollars lawful money of the United States, then the obliga- tion was to be void, otherwise, of force. "There," said Haun, as he finished, "that'll do as well as anything, now just put your name to it and we'll finish the letter at once." Cornell merely glanced over the instrument carelessly, page: 114-115[View Page 114-115] "4 OID HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. without observing particularly its import, and taking for granted that it was all right, signed his name, and tossing the instrument towards the pawnbroker said : "Come, now for the letter." "Yes, I'll have it ready in a minute," Haun replied, as he commenced writing, after a few minutes he laid down his pen and said: "See if this suits." ' "' NEW YORK, Dec. 24, 18- ' WILLIAM LEONARD, ESQ., New Orleans.---' "' DEAR SIR:-At the request of Mr. James Cornell, I write, foi the purpose of giving you the information that I possess concerning a family, formerly living here, by the name of Hervey. The family consisted of but two persons. The man- died of fever about a iontt since, and I attended him professionally in his last illness. His wifi was then sick of consumption, and has since died. I knew no othe: member of the family,- but heard them speak of the death some tw years since of an only child, I believe a daughter. They seemed t, be in moderate circumstances. Further than this I am not able t, communicate anything. ' ' Very respectfully yours, etc., '; CARLOS HAUN, '4 ( Physician, New York. " "That's the thing, exactly," exclaimed Cornell, wit exultation, after Haun had concluded reading. "Now I' manufacture a plausible story about finding you, and te him all the particulars. That I have discovered thei graves, and had a monument erected, etc., that will draw a least five hundred dollars more. You'll see r But it THE SEARCH. 115 getting late, and I must go. See that you keep a close mouth, and we'll, both of us, make a good thing out of- it. Good night," said Cornell, as he put the letter in his pocket and buttoned up his coat, preparatory to starting. "You stay at the Astor, yet, I suppose," carelessly inquired Haun. "Yes ; but never you fear, I shan't run away." "I'm not afraid of that, or if you do, I shall know where, to find you." "Well I Good night," Cornell said, as he closed the door. "Good night," Haun echoed, as he advanced to bolt and bar the door and windows, and then muttered to himself: "A good job-that bond 'll hold him, if he ever gets posses- sion of the property-no lawyer could have done it better. He acknowledges that he owes me so many thousand dollars, which he agrees to pay when he gets the property ; and he'll have to pay it, too,- if the girl don't appear somewhere- why, didn't I know it all, when I had the girl here? n con- tinued Haun, with a scowl, and compressed, lips, as he finished his duties, and extinguishing the fire, retired for the night. f: page: 116-117[View Page 116-117] "6 OLD HtAUN, THE PAWNBROKER CHAPTER V. THE GUARDIAN. THE first day spent by Anna, in her new home, was one real enjoyment, notwithstanding the almost constant reme brance of her recent loss. Her mother was better- seemed to be-they could, together, enjoy the luxuries of cheerful fire, and well-spread table. Their kind-hearted friend did all he could to make th contented, and endeavored also, so to arrange his domes economy, that they should not be unnecessarily reminded their affliction, or of their change of abode, except by' increased comfort. Bridget, the servant, knew it to be the wish-of her m ter, that they should be well cared for ; and she,- sim soul, thought if she kept them well fed and warm, that th could be no other want. Mrs. Hervey laid on the sofa, and Anna sat beside b They spoke but little, their hearts were too full of spee Mrs. Hervey suppressed her sorrow as much as possible, Anplgs sake; but she, with the quick-sightedness of ch THE GUARDIAN. 117 hood, saw and sympathized in the grief of one, so near and dear to her. Doctor Foster had the very few articles that remained to Mrs. Hervey removed from her late home. Those that were worth preserving, he sent to his own house, and the remain- ing things were disposed of as opportunity offered. During the day he had but few moments leisure that he could devote to them. But when he had taken his supper, he seated himself very comfortably by the fire, saying : "Come, Anna, bring your chair here close by me, and let's have a nice, cozy time." Anna did as requested, seating herself close by the doc- tor, but he drew her still nearer, saying : "There, that's the way-come close up to me. You are not afraid of me , "Oh, no. But I thought I was too heavy to lean upon you," she replied. "Too heavy I you, too heavy I you little chicken." "Am I not?" said she, turning to her mother. ': Well, my daughter, I think you are a pretty good size for a little girl of your age, but not large, certainly. But I presume you will -now grow, rapidly, jurrounded as you are by--so many comforts.- Doctor Foster", she continued,- turning to him, -I should. like to talk with you about ,my own affairs. I feel 'confident. that I have not got long' to live. An utatural- strength has -beea given me during the past summer. But that. is deserting me, now, and I have much that I must-say to you. Will youlisten to me, now Y" rque page: 118-119[View Page 118-119] "8 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROXER. she added, pleadingly, for, from the doctor's silence, she feared he would put her off. But, after a moment's thought, he said abruptly : "If you must talk, say on what you have to say. But if you would only keep quiet it would be better for you. You will soon feel stronger, but I suppose- you won't rest easy until you have relieved your mind; but I tell you once more that you need not trouble yourself about the future so far as your own bodily comfort, or that of Anna is con cerned, for you are welcome to a home here as long as yoi live." "God bless you for your kindness," Mrs. Hervey answered with much emotion. "There-there-be quiet. You must be quiet. Yo must not excite yourself so, if you ever expect to ge strength," the Doctor interrupted, impatiently. "I endeavor to restrain myself, but can not at all times- my nerves seem to be unstrung." "Very likely-very likely, Ma'am." After a moment's hesitation, as if to gather strength f the painful recital, in a low and trembling voice, Mrs. He vey continued. She was often obliged to stop, from fatigu and oftener to choke back the tears, which the memory earlier and happier days sent welling up to her sunken eye None knew the burning anguish of those unshed tea They saw the quivering lip and the pale face, but heard D the cry for strength that rose on the wings of the tremulc sigh that escaped from her heart. THE GUARDIAN. 119 How often is it so, we gaze'upon the sorrowing one, who stands with tearless eyes, to see his life's treasure laid in the grave, and think he mourns not-while our warmest sympa- thiea are called forth by the tears and lamentations of him, whose grief has utterance. - "Doctor Foster," continued Mrs. Hervey, "you have taken a great burthen from my mind--Anna wilt have a home and protector, when I am gone. God put it into your heart to do by her as you would have your's done by. "But it is your right to know all of my past history, that can in any way affect her whom you have so kindly promised to care for. Money, or property, as you know I have not; neither have I expectations of any, I have neither friend nor relative -in the wide world, that would take Anna, and provide for her. Feeling the truth of this, I gladly resign her to your protection. Be to her father, mother, and friend, for when I am gone, she will have none other; and as you deal gently with her, so will your reward be here- after. "I was born, and lived till after the- birth of Anna, in a small town in Massachusetts. My father was a seafaring man. He died when Lwas but a little child, so that I re- member almost nothing of him. I had but one brother, and for nine years I have neither seen nor heard from him. He was older than myself; and he, too, when quite young, left his home, to follow the calling of his father, but he came often to our obscure and quiet home--till that last time, page: 120-121[View Page 120-121] 120 OLD HA UN, THE?AWNB'ROKER. tWhen he found our dear mother dead, and Ila wife and a mother; and then he left, and never came again. He did not like my choice. I had married one older and wiser than myself, but he was poor, and but a school-teacher, and that did not satisfy my brother's ambition. He left me in anger, although I had married with my mother's blessing. Since that time I have never heard from him; but I asm convinced he cannot be living, for his warm and generous heart would not have let him so long entertain unkind feelings towards me and my family. "Five years ago we came to this city; my husband hop- ing to obtain some situation which would yield a better com- pensation for his services. For a time we did welL He obtained a good salary as a book-keeper. But he was often sick, and then all our earnings went rapidly, and finally he lost his situation, and for some time could obtain no employ- ment suited to his physical condition. In this manner we were gradually reduced to poverty. We were obliged to give up our pleasant home in Brooklyn. One by one, our little treasures were sold, till nothing is now left of the things that we most valued-books-ornamnents--tokens of affection--all, one after another, went to buy us bread. But, hank :God, the .worst trial of all is over. To see him I loved 1o well, suffer for the comforts, and even necessaries of life, and yet to be unable to provide them, weighed hea- vily and constantly. on my mind. But he is at rest now ; I struggled hard to keep want from our little home, but all that I could do brought but little help. Accomplishments, THE GUARDIAN. 121 I had not, and my needle was all -the dependence that was left me. - Oh, how meagre the fare provided by that, even when I was able to obtain constant employment. For my very necessities were taken advantage of, by those for whom I labored, to reduce my compensation to the very lowest possible rate. If I had been properly compensated, I might have provided for all oar wants. But after a night of toil, I have received barely sufficient to pay for the fuel that' kept me from freezing, and that grudgingly given. "But my last labor is done; I can work no more ; and with a grateful heart I must continue to depend upon your kindness. God only knows how thankful I am, that I have been spared my greatest dread, the alms-house. I leave Anna withou, and something whispers me that all will be well." "Mrs. Hervey," said the doctor, taking her thin hand in his own, "your trust shall not be betrayed. I am alone in the world, and although rough in manners, and possibly too little -mindful of the conventionalities of society, still, I trust, I have an honest heart, and one that is not hardened as yet by a long intercourse with a selfish world. And again I say, while I live; Anna shall not want for anything that it is in my power to provide,; and I will in everything do by her as I should wish my own to-be done by. But you must n6t be so down-hearted about iyourself. I hope you will live many years yet, to see Anna grow up to womans stature." ' "Do not deceive yourself, doctor, or fear to speak of that page: 122-123[View Page 122-123] 122 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. which I already know. Death has no terrors for m ' will be but the laying off of this weak and worn-out body, and I shall be at rest. Rest I No one can comprehend how full of meaning to me is that word. Rest from toil, and strife, and struggle; rest from pain and weariness, from sleepless nights, and days of anguish. Do you wonder at this strong desire, after the long years of continued and unceasing anxiety and misery?" "Perhaps not; but is not the love of your only child a bond strong enough to bind you to life, now that the storms are past?" asked the doctor. "The storms may be past, but they have marked their path. As to my dear child, life is yet before her, perhaps a happy one. If earthly love were strong enough to combat with death, then he would not have died. For oh, God for- give me the sin, he was my life, my existence. Why should I desire to live now, that he is gone?" "Would you have kept him here to suffer?" asked the docter. "Not to suffer longer ; no, it is best as-it is. For Annals sake, I will strive against this weakness and endeavor to recover my strength, but the issue must remain with Him." '"I am glad to hear you say so ; for it is, in my opinion, very wicked, as well as foolish to give way to such desponi dent feelings. Hope for the best result of all our efforts, and that result is more easily obtained. "But you have talked too long already. I will prepare you an anodyne, and then -you had better go to bed. THZE 9ABBIAN. 123 Here, this dear child is fast asleep. Anna," called the doctor. "What, sir; I have not been asleep,' said Anna, looking UP. "Not asleep? why, I thought you bhad been sleeping this half hour. What have you been thinking about " inquired the- doctor. Anna raised her-large eyes to the doctor's face, and met for moment his searehing look, and then, with a quivering lip, she w hispered ; "I was listening,. "Humph," grunted the doctor, while a very unpleasant choking sensation arose in his throat. To get rid ofit, he gave Anna a rough hug, and kissed her heartily, say- ing -- "Better go to bed. There, run and call Biddy, and let her help you and mother to bed." Anna did so, and soon mother and daughter were resting quietly on their bed, but not to sleep. With Mr s. --ervey, the excitement of the evening was long. in yielding tothe influence of the opiate prepared for her. With Ana, the painful relation to which the had litened, aroused her active mind and gave it food for deeper meditatio She, the child of ten years, went back in imagination over the long course. of her mother' troubled life, and dwelt w ith. psin ?ul intensity upon the scenes of destitution and auffe hich she had witnessed, but never before fully understood )r realized, The tears etQle out of her eyes whe she page: 124-125[View Page 124-125] 124 OLD HA tN, THE PAWNBROIKERB remembered her father's sufferings, but no- sigh or sob escaped her heaving breast, for she was conscious that her e mother was still awake, and her affectionate heart forbade her adding one drop to that mother's bitter cup. Then came the thought of that uncle of whom her mother had spoken, and of their former home, and of her playmates, and of Mich, and thus blending the past with the present, she sank to sleep. Think you ten years of experience-the hard experience of a heartless world, such as hers had been, too little to have matured her mind thus, and to have given it sober thoughts. If so, seek the ragged begger in your daily walk-one that has been tossed about by the waves of adversity and ques- tion him ; you will find that experience has matured his mn---d and made him a man in intellect, although still a youth in size. After Anna and her mother had retired, the doctor drew his chair nearer the grate and stirred the glowing coals, till its cheerful light and warmth filled the room-and then he mused long upon the strange circumstances that had made him the protector of two helpless females. v That he a bachelor-he who had lived through so many years of selfish loneliness. That he should now; as if providentially, find himself the patriarch of a family. It was singular. The design had been -so suddenly conceived by him and so immnediately carried out, that he could hardly appreciate the reality of the change.- But he had no desire to return to his lonely condition-he felt a deep love springing up in his T HE G U A-RDIAN . 125 heart for the gentle child, now sheltered by his roof-and was pleased with himself for havingdone a good act, and did not regret the change. .So sure is it that we reap even in this life a thousand fold from the seeds of charity, perhaps carelessly and unthinkingly sown by us. As he sat he thought of the many things he would do for the child. She should go to school-she should have nice clothes-and books and toys-in fact she should be happy. But then came the thought of her mother, also the subject of his care and a deep shade fell upon his open brow. "'Is it possible," he said, to himself, "that her days are so few; can no skill avail her?' .And then his thoughts reverted to Anna-her earnest tearful look, and her whispered words before she left him that night, came to his mind, and sighing, he said, "poor child I but' it cannot be averted. Her mother's mind is wearing out her body, and the child will be left an orphan. I fear it is so." Just then Bridget came in to see that all was safe for the night--but seeing the doctor so comfortably seated by the fire, she was about to leave, wondering in her. own mind what had. come over her master, that he should sit down quietly by the fire during a whole evening. But he called her back, saying: "Here, Biddy, what do you want?" "Nothin', sir, I was only seein' if the fire was safe, sir." "All right, Biddy; I'l attend to the fire, I am not going lust yetL I say, Biddy?" "What will ye have, sir ?"' page: 126-127[View Page 126-127] 126 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "I want you to go out to-morrow morning and buy Anna a new bonnet, and some shoes, and a dress for her, and her mother too. Can you do it? She needs them. Say Biddy-can you do it?" "Sure I can do that and a great deal more, too, for the dear child, bless her swate face." "Well, attend to it then, and here's money to pay for them," said the doctor, as he drew out a well worn purse and handed her a note, " and if there's not enough to get all the things come to me for more." "Enough! I'll be bound I'll fit her out like a quane," said Bridget, with a broad Irish accent, while her face was radiant with smiles. "No finery remember-but good plain clothes, and stout shoes for Anna." "Indade, an' I know what'll plase them," said Bridget, as she left the room. Early in the morning Bridget started on her shopping exems1ion, and she performed her mission well. Possibly prettier patterns might have been selected, or a bonnet of later style purchased-but these were in. Bridget's mind points of little importance. Durability and warmth were qualities that she most considered. Anna received her presents with glistening eyes, and examined them with trembling hands. She first drew on the warm stockings and the shoes, and was delighted with them. She then put on the new bonnet, and its crimson lining cast a glow upon her usually pale cheek. She -next THE GUARDIAN - 127 wrapped around her the heavy shawl, and when enveloped in its ample folds herjjoy was too great to be borne alone. "See," said she, to her mother, who was reclining on the sofa, and who had been observing her with a satisfied look, "See, mother, how nice and warm this is." "Yes, my child--I hope you will love Doctor Poster very much for his kindness to us. That is all tyou can do in return." "Mother- I will--I do. Now, mother, you are crying." "No I Anna, I am not, but I can not restrain the tears of gratitude that will fall in witnessing the kindness of the friend that God has raised up to us." "Ye're right, Mrs. Hervey, he's the kindest man that ever lived," interrupted Bridget,with a husky voice ; "he's every one's friend ; its the Lord's truth." "Have you lived with him long?" inquired Anna. "It's now three years come Easter, since I came to live with him, and never a cross word have I once had from his head; I don't know where I could find another home like this," answered Bridget. "-You are fortunate in having so good a place," remarked Mrs. Hervey. "Ye may well say that same; but I mustn't stand here chattering in this way, or ye'll not have any dinner this day ; but, Anna, won't it do the docthor's heart good, when he sees ye wid the new clothes on ;" and so saying Bridget started away to attend to 'her own dities, and left them to them- selves. page: 128-129[View Page 128-129] 128 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. Anna endeavored by gentle attentions and caresses, and by her childish conversation to dissipate the gloom from the face of her mother, and thus time passed till the doctor returned to his meal. He fondled Anna for a little time ; was delighted with the additions to and change in her appa- rel, talked with her mother, advised with her, gave directions to Bridget, and was off upon his ceaseless round of duties. Day succeeded day without being marked by any parti- cular or unusual event. Anna often thought of Mich, and wished she could see him. But she had been in her new abode some time before going into the streets. Now that she was away from the accustomed walks she dared not go alone, and more than this-she was unwilling to leave her mother, when she might sometimes have gone with Bridget. Her patience was rewarded, for on Christmas eve, after the doctor had taken his supper, he said . "Anna, put on your things and go with me and take a walk. It will do you good." Anna hesitated and looked at her mother, for she did not like to leave her alone, but the doctor saw the glance, and understood its meaning and said : "Biddy can sit by your mother while you are gone. W e'll not be out long. Come, be quick, on with the new bonnet and shawl." Anna hastened to obey him, and soon stood in readiness to go, saying: "I am ready, sir." "All nice and warm? Eh!" said the doctor. THE G UARDIAN. 129 "Yes, sir. Biddy, take good care of mother when I am gone. Good bye," and Anna followed the doctor out of the room.' - They proceeded down Broadway, the air was piercing cold ; but Anna drew her thick shawl about her and did not feel it. Her young blood coursed rapidly in her veins as she tried to keep pace with the steps of Doctor Foster. A merry Christmas Eve it was to many a light heart. The streets and shops shone brilliantly, and hurrying feet went rapidly by. ^ The doctor seemed lost in thought. He had hardly spoken a word until they reached Broadway, and had gone some distance, and then-he seemed to become conscious of Anna's presence; he walked more slowly, to allow her an opportunity of admiring some of the windows filled with dazzling varieties. They came to one more showy than the others, when the doctor said : "Let us stop a minute to see what we can find here." "Oh see, is'nt it beautiful!" exclaimed Anna. "Do you think so? perhaps you would like to go in and get something?" replied the doctor. "Oh, no, you have bought so many nice things for me already, I'd rather not." "Well then, we'll cross over here, and- perhaps we may see something there that we can take home with us," said the doctor, as they crossed the street and entered a confeo. tionery.. "Now Ann, what shall we buy 1?" page: 130-131[View Page 130-131] 130 OLD H A U N THE PAWNBROKER. "Oh, sir, nothing for me." "' Nothingl why child, don't you like candy?" "Yes sir, I used to, but I hav'nt had any for a long time." "Well, then, you shall have some now." "Please sir," she whispered timidly. "What is it, child? don't be afraid to tell me what you want. Perhaps you had rather have a doll." "No, sir, not that; but if, instead of candy; you would please buy something for mother," said Anna, coloring at her own boldness. "Bless your little heart. She shall have: something and you, too. What shall we get her. Here are some nice grapes, just the thing for her. What do you say?" "I think so." "Now, we'll-just buy one of those beautiful dolls, for you to take along with you, and then well leave." Hav- ing selected one, and had it put up, the doctor took Anna by the hand, and they started out again. Soon they came to a book-store. "Can you read, Anna?" he inquired. "Yes, sir; my mother has taught me to read and spell." "Right I then, you must have a book, and .I shall want you to read it to me." "I should like to, but I think you are buying me- too many things." "Indeed I You are afraid I shall spend all my tmoey, eh Is that it?" THE G U ARD DIAN. 131 "Oh, no; I suppose you have a great deal of money; but you are very good to give me and mother all of these." - . "Well, child, you belong to me now, and while I live you shall share with me. Now, I think, a warm fire would feel comfortable after our long walk in the cold; so, we'll go towards home." So saying the doctor hurried on abstract- edly, and in silence, till he abruptly inquired : "Anna, who was that ragged boy that I saw with you the morning I called?:' "That, sir! Oh, that was Mich Lynch." "Mich Lynch! who is he? "He lived-near to us ; and his mother is poor. He used to help me sometimes, and went with me one day when I sold matches, and when I sold mamma's locket, too." "Locket I who did you sell the locket to?" "I don't know what his name is, but he keeps a shop up in this part of the city; I think they call it Chatham street ; Mich would know." "Where does Mich live then?" "I could find it from- our old home, but I don't know the way from here." "Well, I must go with you some day to find him. He has done so much for you ; but I should Like to hear some- thing more of him-you can tell me as we are going along horne." Anna very gladly commenced with the fisat time she had seen Mich, and told everyithieg coneemiig: him that she page: 132-133[View Page 132-133] 132 OLD HA U N THE PAWNBROKER. knew. She told of his kindness to her, of his own poverty, and of his mother, and her sick baby, in fact, every little incident of their short intimacy ; and by the time they had reached home, the doctor had conceived quite an interest in Anna's humble friend, and remarked as they entered their house "Perhaps we'll see him again some day." Anna rushed to her mother, and handed her. the grapes she had brought, without waiting to remove her shawl and bonnet, saying, as she did so: "Here's something nice. for you-only taste them." "Are they for me?"Mrs. Hervey inquired, "Yes, all for you-every one, that is if the doctor doesn't want any." "No, the doctor don't want any; you and I, you know, have got something better," said he, holding up the candies. "Oh yes ; and see, mother, just see this beautiful doll, and this book, and candies." "I hope Doctor Foster will not indulge my little girl too much," remarked Mrs. Hervey. "Oh, it is Christmas, you know, and that comes but once a year," said the doctor, chuckling. It would have been difficult to determine which was happiest, the child with her gifts, or he in witnessing her pleasure. Would that the ingenuousness and trusting love of child- hood might be retained through life. But with years comes the knowledge of unworthlness, often in those we most THE GUXARDIANX.- 133 f esteem--and theni the warm affections which would have twined around the objects of our love are chilled, and we realize the bitter thought that there is nothing lasting "but eternity I i' 1 , ffi . . page: 134-135[View Page 134-135] 134 OL D H &Ur, TaE PAWNBROK ER. CHAPTER VI. CORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. AFTER Cornell had dispatched to New Orleans the letters written by Haun and himself, he gave himself up to dissipa- tion and pleasure. He made 'no farther attempt, or even demonstration of continuing his search. His conscience would sometimes reproach him for what he had done, but he would quickly stifle its voice, quieting himself with the thought that those injured, even if living, would never know their wrongs. He waited impatiently for an answer, not doubting that his immediate return would be urged, when Leonard should learn that he had no other relative on whom, in his feeble health he could lean as a friend. A visit was occasionally made to the pawnbroker, and what respect was formerly entertained by him for that. worthy and excellent individual, was rapidly dissipating, as he, from time to time, became more thoroughly acquainted with the -peculiarities of disposition of his newly found friend. CORNELL LEAVES NEW YO RK. 185 Cornell expected to leave for the South. He had mnade up his mind to go, and held himself in readiness. Still no letter came. He was becoming discontented,- nervous, and irritable-found less enjoyment in the daily amusements in Which he had formerly engaged with so much zeal. The winter was passing, he wanted to see New Orleans once more-in fact he was homesick. 'The post office was visited daily, and often many times a day, with the vain hope that a letter for him might have been overlooked or misplaced. It was now the last of January, and he had everything in readiness to start. He went once more, and fortune favored him--the letter came. He grasped it eagerly-glanced at the post mark and at the superscription--the latter was strange to him. He tore it open. The letter was from Leonard, but not written with his own hand. Leonard was dangerously sick-the immediate presence- of Cornell was desired--a pang shot through his heart, but he nerved him- self, and returned to his hotel to learn the exact time of the departure of the next public conveyance south. He found that he should have a little spare time, and thought he had better go and have an interview with the pawnbroker before his final departure. It was with a sad face and heavy heart that he walked slowly along towards the pawnbroker' shop. He regretted the step he had taken, and thought bow much better it would have been, had he waited for the free gift of his friend, honestly and fearlessly received, than the thousands that he might obtain by fraud--the thousnndp that he could page: 136-137[View Page 136-137] 136 OLD HAUNX THE PAWNBROKER. never enjoy in peace, so long as his secret was shared by another. Cornell had not naturally a bad heart. He was impulsive and quick to resolve, without proper reflection, and easily influenced by others; but he was not hardened in vice, or utterly insensible to the appeals of a better nature. Enter- ing, he said, soberly, and with less of brusquerie in his man- ner than usual: " aun, I'm off for the south." "You I Have you heard from him?" "No, not from him, but from one who has written for him." "Some one written for him? You don't mean a lawyer do you? You don't suppose he has any suspicion?" "No, the letter was from his housekeeper. Leonard is dangerously sick and wants me to hasten back." "Ohl ohl is that all. Why did'nt you speak out at once," said Haqn, drawing a long breath. "You almost scared me. I thought something had broke loose, and that the ten thousand dollars was in danger; but it's right the other way, and I'll get it sooner than I thought for. Ain't you a lucky dog? If the old man dies you've nothing to do but just go down, take possession (because you're sure to gek it if these others don't turn up), pay me my share, and live like a prince. But had he received the letters?" "She does not mention, but I presume he had, for nothing is said of his sister, and she wrote at his dictation." "Well, then, you'll have no trouble. He must have given , , (CORNELL LEAVES'i NEW YORK. 1837 up all hope of seeing her, and you may thank me for half of your luck." "Yes, thank you for breaking the poor old man's heart, for I have not a doubt your letter has done it. He has so long indulged the hope of seeing his sister, that the sudden disappointment has been too much for him to bear. What devils we are to deceive him so. I wish I had not done it" said Cornell, sighing. '"How tender-hearted you have become. Hurry on, and you may not be too late even now, to save him. Tell him that you were only lying to him in order that you might get his money. I have no doubt he would forgive you at once, It would be perfectly natural that he should-men are so fond of being cheated and deceived. Or, if he shouldn't forgive you, and should insist on being crusty on account of your slight indiscretion, and should will his estate away to some hospital, or charity school, why, you'll only have to go to work-and you know that's nothing-,you love to work. Well, I hope you will reap the usual reward of repentance. Go, before it is too late," said Haun sarcastically. "Association with you is not likely to induce one to repent, except of the company he has kept. You may sneer, but I am not afraid to say I only wish the. letters had never been written. But it is too late; 'and besides, his sister may be dead, for aught we know, and what should I benefit any one then by telling him. I should only lose all chance my- self of getting anything, for I know Leonard too well to expect that he'd ever forgive such treatment. There's no page: 138-139[View Page 138-139] 138 OLD H A U , THE PAWNBROEKER. other way. So I'll just let it go as it is, and wait to see what comes next," said Cornell, talking partly to himself, and yet, so that he could oe heard, without heeding Haun's presence. "Now you begin to talk like a sensible man," interrupted t; Haun. "Well, well, there's no use in crying for spilt milk. So, old fellow, good-bye. I intend to keep my part of the bargain, and mind that you keep yours, and a close mouth, and don't trouble yourself too much -about my matters." "It will be all right if you do that; but if not, you might, perhaps, hear from me again." Cornell did not stop to answer, but left the shop and retraced his steps to his hotel, where he completed his necessary arrangements, and at seven that evening left for the South. Night and day he travelled, hurried on by some vague and indefinable feeling. Often the desire to undo the wrong he had committed, was so strong within him, that had he been in the presence of Leonard, all would have been confessed. He felt ill at ease, and shunned the society of his fellow-travellers. He had only looked at the goal, with- out measuring the long road of guilt that he was to journey over to reach it. But now that he had taken the first step, he felt guilty-condemned. His own conscience stood like a monitor; silently pointing to the base act that he had com- mitted in betraying his friend. Day and night he felt its OOTNELL LEAVES NEW YORx. 139 upbraidings, and, therefore, hurried on, more and more resolved to make a full confession of his duplicity, regardless of consequences. He had come to this determination before his interview twi;ti'aun, but the jeers of the latter had caused him! to reconsider his good resolution, and finally to persevere determinedly in the accomplishment of the plot which he had laid ; but when removed from the evil influences thus exerted over him, his better genius prevailed, -and he relented. Had he been permitted to see his friend -alive, and to have been met, as of old, with kindness, Cornell would cer- tainly have swerved from his wicked purpose. He could not have persisted had he heard the sick man mourn for his only sister, and regret his own sinful folly in letting her live separate from him, her brother-perhaps in misery-while he had an abundance. It was undeniable that the information contained in those letters had been the blow that had struck down the old man and brought him to the grave. He was the last of his name -none remained. He had hoped to clasp his sister -once more in Ais arms, and to seek her forgiveness for his past harshness and unbrotherly behavior, but she was not there; she had already gone before him, and died without forgiving him. Cornell, too, whom he had taken and cherished as his own child, clothed, fed, sheltered, and loved, he too, was away, and there was tot one of his kindred to close the eyes of the dying man. page: 140-141[View Page 140-141] "O OLD HAUN, THE PAWENBROKER. This, and much beside, that occurred during the last ' hours of his relative, was communicated to Cornell by the faithful and mourning housekeeper. He listened eagerly to every little incident of his last illness, and bitterly regretted the act which had made him the sole heir of his cousin;," for, by the terms of the will made- several years previously, all the property of the deceased, both real and personal, devised to Cornell; but, in case of his sister being living, the whole of the same was to go to her, or to her issue, excepting a legacy of twenty thousand dollars to Cornell. He repented, and would even then, when he saw the pro- perty for which he had sinned, almost in his possession, hlave returned it to the lawful claimant, if she had appeared, but she did not, and so time healed his wounds, and he became accustomed to the luxuries which wealth can command, and to the respect which it exacts from the cringing multitude, and then his good intentions died. He hardened his heart and shut up the secret in his own breast, the secret that had, even as he gazed upon the pale face and closed eyes of his benefactor, trembled on his lips. But it was too late. Cornell claimed as sole heir under the will, and after a short delay and the necessary proof, which was carelessly gone through with, and more as a mere matter of form than otherwise, his claim was recognized and established; in fact, there was no one to dispute or deny it, for the deceased's own statements were proven for the purpose of establishing the fact, that there-was no other person living O-ORNELL- LEAVES NEW YORt . 141 competent to claim as heir, and so the will was admitted to probate, and Cornell, the dependant Cornell, became lord over thousands. With all proper show of respect and attention, the body was laid in its last resting-place. Cornell exhibited no unusual haste or desire to appropriate the coveted property to himself, but everything was done decently and in order, and so he took possession quietly and unostentatiously. As time passed on, his old acquaintances sought him out, and he lavished money freely; he was liberal and generous without counting cost or looking to the end. He made also many new friends, who basked in the sunshine of his favors, and he was by all considered a fortunate and a- happy man. And now that he had come into full possession of the estate, success had given- him confidence,' and he began to weigh in his mind the possibility of releasing himself from his obligation to Haun--the ten thousand dollars promised as his share in the venture. True he had received ten times that amount, but it was mostly in real estate and in negroes, all valuable, but not so immediately productive, and ten thousand dollars was a large sum for him to pay without inconvenience. Het debated inwhis own mind the policy 0of refusing payment to Haun, and-resolved o0 seek legal advice as to the validity of the bond he had executed. Weighing the matter in his mind, he determined, however, rather than come to an open rupture with his partner, he would compro- mise, but finally' concluded that he could- not spare any page: 142-143[View Page 142-143] HAUN, THE PAWNBXOXCER. money, and that he would withhold the consideration of the bond, and if possible resist its collection. If Cornell had received twice the amount that he really did, he undoubtedly would have felt the same. This is human nature. He could not bear the idea of diminishing his estate by parting with such a sum, aside from the great inconvenience that it would occasion him. Therefore, from hesitating and doubt- ing, he finally resolved not to pay Haun the ten thousand dollars, notwithstanding the fact that it had been through his assistance that the plot had been carried into successful operation, and he did not believe that Haun would ever be able to discover the legal heirs, in which case he would have nothing to fear. He himself had searched in vain, and he did not believe another could be more successful. And so, from thinking of the matter, and wishing that it might be so, Cornell finally satisfied himself that it was so, Snd that the legal heir was dead, and so determined to retain all that had come into his possession, and to part with none of it except to gratify his own sensual wants, and to minister to his own pleasures. He could not, however, banish from his mind an inde- finable dread-he was not at ease. Although he had resolved and marked out his course of action, still he vacil, lated, knowing that the pawnbroker was a man of iron nerve, and one not lightly trned from his object. But hehbad determined one thing, and that was not to pay the money; but another thing he had not yet settled, and that was how to avoid the payment. Thus time passed, when after the Lt lapse of a few months from the day of his taking possession, he received from New York a letter-opening it he read as follows: " NEW .YORK, M3arclh lt51l8- . "MY DEAR SIR :-I cannot delay writing, for the purpose of offer. ing my sympathy in your terrible affliction. To have lost so kind a friend must deeply affect you. But while expressing my griefat your loss, you will not deny me the opportunity of referring to that little business transaction which you will recollect; I am much in want of the funds at present and am very positive that I shall receive a remit- tance within sixty days from this date. I presume you will be pleased to learn that your friends here, whom you feared might be dead, are still living, notwithstanding the report of their death.which was erro- neously circulated. "Waiting for an answer I am your constant friend- "CAnRLOS HAUN." Cornell was alone in his room when he opened the letter, he had noticed the post mark when taking it from the ser- vant, and had waited impatiently for him to leave, before opening it. After reading the first lines of 'morking con-, dolence, he threw it violently from him, he then as quickly caught it up and perused it to the end, and then tore it into fragments and holding the pieces into the light, of a taper saw them quickly consumed. He understood perfectly the allusion contained in the last lines and it was that, which troubled him. e thoughtto himelfe "what if he dis- covered them siac my dopertire. .Then he began to con sider discretion the better part of valor, and thoughtt per. haps had better make an attempt to cmprose the page: 144-145[View Page 144-145] matter with Haun rather than to have an open rupture, because he could not learn and did not know how far he was in Haun's power. And then again, it occurred to him I that what would kill one would kill the other. That what- - ever would prevent his retaining the property, would also prevent Haun obtaining any part of it. But he was doubt- ful as yet, how far Haun would sacrifice interest to the ! gratification of revenge, and so revolving the matter in his i mind, he came to the conclusion that it would do no harm at - any rate, and might be of some advantage, to answer Haun's letter-acting. upon this determination, he wrote as follows : "NEW ORLEANS, April I0th, 18-- "CARL0a HAUN, New York. "DEAR SIR:--I have just received your letter and duly con- sidered its contents. As to the expression of your sympathy for me, I wish it were half as sincere as my grief at the loss of my friend; I am ready to perform my agreement so far as I find myself able : I can- not advance you the amount at first spoken of, but still I will do what , is right, so that you shall be well paid for your trouble, and on receipt from you of the bondt which I gave you, I will enclose one thousand : dollars. If this proposition is satisfactory to. you, please let me know at once. ': "Yours, etc., a 1 "3JiXs CORXNELL." - Having dispatched his letter, he writer banished the subM : ject from his thoughts aas a unpleasant matter that he did m not wish to entertain. . He surrounded himself with all the luxuries that wealth ' %,;t.,iJ'1, LEAVES NEW YORK. 145 could command, as if attempting to condense into each day of his life the utmost possible enjoyment. Everysense was gratified till sated with excess. Excitement was what -he craved; and in it he succeeded, for a time, in drowning remorse for the past, and in banishing all fear for the future. And now, where was Mich all of this time ? Why, not- withstanding many blunders and mistakes, he had made himself so useful in his new vocation, that doctor Marsh would not on any account have parted with him. Active, honest, and punctual in the discharge of his duties, and withal anxious to please, he had made himself indispensable to his employer. As great a change, too, had been wrought in his personal appearance. One would scarcely have been able to recog- nize in the smart looking, well-dressed boy who, on the first of April drove up the horse of the popular physician, the Mich, who has already made his appearance before the reader. But it certainly was he-a little personal attention with an improvement in his apparel had worked the change. He was a proud and happy boy in being able to assist his mother, f besides providing for his own limited wnAis. Nothing was bought unnecessarily, except now and then a book; but his own earnings had been added to the little his mother had been able to obtain, and they secured a comfortable tene- ment and furnished it with some few articles of utility The vision of the alms-house or starvation was not forever haunting her, and Mrs. Lynch's sad face wore a more cheer- ful look. page: 146-147[View Page 146-147] "6 OLD H AUN, THE PAWNBBOKEER Mich had not by any means forgotten his former friend Anna,. He often wondered what could have become of her- where she could have disappeared so suddenly. As each day's engagements brought to him the same routine of employ- -ment, he was always on the watch for her, and whenever I groups of children passed him he would gaze wistfully into their faces, and wonder where Anna could have gone. He had become attached to her with a boyish fondness, for she had been the only one with whom he had been on terms of intimacy, and he, being a stranger among strangers, could not but let his- thoughts revert to her. The expectation of ever seeing her again was gradually growing fainter, when, on a certain day, as he was putting in order his employer's office, a man entered and inquired for doctor Marsh. Mich turned quickly when he heard the voice, for its tone was familiar to him; but the person was a stran- ger to him. He did not immediately answer, but tried to recall the time and place where he had once seen the visitor, and unconscionsly stood staring him in the face He was aroused from his reverie by a repetition of the question: "Say, boy, where is doctor Marsh?" "Hell be in directly, sir!' "Well, why couldn't you answer me at first, instead of stopping to stare at me?" "I beg you'll excuse the rudeness ; but I thought your face was known to me." "Humphi Very likely." Just then Doctor Marsh entered, and saluting his visitor, extended his hand, saying: OBr: L L LfE A V-E 8 EW YR x. 14 7 oad orn g, Doetor Foster--quite a stranger-take a seat '1fii, the fire-rather cool for a spring day. "What's tha news with you, doctor P' "Nothing of importance; but I want to get you to go with me and see a patient of mine. Will you go?" "Certainly, certainly, glad to oblige you." "Well, will'you go now-? Don't expect you can do the man any good; but it will satisfy the friends to have you see him." "Yes, I can go now as well as- any time. Mich, go and bring around the carriage." "Yes, sir," answered Mich, as-he darted off. * "Humph! carriage I Your patients pay better than m ine do if you can afford to keep your carriage and servant,' said Doctor Foster. "I won't practise for those who won't pay. My tune iS my capital, and I make it bring me good interest." "Humph," grunted Doctor Foster, as he walked uneasily to and fro through the room. This was all the notice he took of this last remark. Soon Doctor Marsh asked him the particulars of the case upon which his opinion wasdesired, which he gave with precision; and while he was talking upon the subject Mich entered, saying:i "Ready, sir," and then left, the room, an the phys ns followed. When they were teated in the carriage, ich handed the reins to Doctor M arh and asked:. "Shall I go?" - "Yes, up quick, Mich." page: 148-149[View Page 148-149] "8 OLD HAUNN THE PAWNBROxKER. And up he jumped as agile as a young squirrel, and they started on. They soon came to -a part of the city which was more particularly Doctor Foster's field of practice. The poor-the humble-the laboring men were the subjects of his care. Sometimes they were able to pay, but oftener not. This made no difference to him. His time and skill were freely given. He had, fortunately, secured sufficient to ena- ble him to live independently of his practice; but he clung to it as a means of doing good. After riding along for some time in silence, Doctor Marsh said: "Why will you squander your talents upon the herd that swarm here? Why, Foster, your skill and ability would command a fortune among respectable people." "Respectable people I I presume our ideas of respecta- bility differ much. I consider the man respectable who, by honest toil earns his own bread, though he be clad in sack- cloth, and tread with weary feet the long way to his humble home. You call him respectable who dresses in fine linen and fares sumptuously every day. Thank God I do not forget that I was once poor myself." "Your remarks are very caustic. You seem to have more feeling on the subject than I had supposed." "Yes, I am free to acknowledge that my feeling and sym- pathies are with the honest toiling poor." "Well I Foster, I admit my notions would not be popular, but I must confess that I do not like contact with this sort of people. They seem to smell of garlic, particularly all foreigners, and I don't fancy it." CORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 149 "Humph! that may do for you, but not for me; it is fortunate that we are not all so delicately constituted, or there are many people who would suffer. Marsh, you are fond of luxuries, and would be unhappy without them : to me they are of no importance. I take the world as it was made before it was spoiled by art." By this time they had reached their destination. They stopped and entered, leaving Mich seated in the carriage. While they were absent his brain was busy. He had listen- ed to the conversation of the gentlemen as they rode along, and it had aroused his curiosity. ,He felt more and more confident that he had before met or seen Doctor Foster, but where or when he could not determine. He had seen many strangers since he had been in the employ of Dr. Marsh that he could not discriminate. Yet it was not as some stranger whom he had casually seen, but there was something con- nected with the face or voice of Doctor Foster, that created in the mind of Mich an, indefinable desire to satisfy himself of the time and place, but the more he tried, the less able was he to resolve the matter, and so gave it up for the pres- ent. After being absent for a short time the physicians re-ap- peared. Dr. Marsh insisted upon his companion riding along with him as far his office, which Doctor Foster at first declined, but finally consented in his characteristic manner: "Ride I Well, I will to please you, but I'd rather walk." Doctor Marsh turned his horse's head homeward, and pro- page: 150-151[View Page 150-151] 150 OLD HAUNX THE PAWNBROKER. ceeding by a different route than that by which they had come: they entered the street in which Anna Hervey had so long lived. Mich no sooner saw the familiar-looking places than every circumstance of his acquaintance with Anna came rushing upon his memory, and on the tide was borne the scene in the stairway when he had last seen her, and in an instant, he recognized Dr. Foster. It occurred to him at once when and where he had met him. As they drove past the darkened and smoky tenement, Mich gazed at it, and up at the attic window, and then turned to gaze after they had passed, till Doctor Foster noticing his earnest look, and not himself observing their locality remarked- "What do you see, boy?" "Nothin' at all, sir, only the ould house." "Whose old house?" inquired the doctor. "Only a frind, sir, that I used to know." "Then you recollect your friends, do you?" "Fa'th, sir, it's not a poor boy like meself that's likely to have so many frinds he can't remember them all." "Humph I some truth in that I've no doubt, but what's your name?" "Me name's Mich Lynch, sir." "Eh? Mich Lynch, and what was the name of the friend you used to know there," inquired Doctor Foster with some eagerness. "Her name was Anna Hervey." CORNELL LEAVES NEW YO-RK. 151 "Remarkable," ejaculated the Doctor. "Yis, ye're honor, she was that same, and a tinder-hearted creature beside." "I say its remarkable that I should have happened to come across Mich Lynch, Anna's friend. I tell you, boy, she'll be glad to hear of you." "Indade, sir, is it possible that ye know where she is?" "I know where she was not an hour ago." "An' ye won't be afther denyin' me the favor I'm askin' of ye to tell me where she is." "She's at home of course, nursing her sick mother." "And that's the very thing I'd be glad to know, where is her home?" "Didn't I tell you she lives with me, and if Doctor Marsh will spare you for a few minutes, you shall go with me and see her awhile," said Doctor Foster, as he alighted at the door of his -own office. The consent was readily given, and the two started for the residence of Dr. Fdster. Mich could hardly restrain himselnor wait for the slow pace of the doctor, or answer his interogatories as they moved along. u"S Syou're the boy that used to help my little girl occa- sionally. You're the one that sold matches with her? eh I Great business that, for her to go peddling matches," grunted the doctor. "Did ye say she'was livin' wid ye?" asked Mich. "Live with me I more like I live with her. I couldn't get along without her." page: 152-153[View Page 152-153] 152 OLD HAU N, THE PAWNBROKER. "Och 1 thin, God bless ye. I was afraid she'd been sufferin' wid hunger since she left the ould house," Mich answered gratefully. The knowledge that Anna had been well provided for, sent a thrill of pleasure through his heart. The residence of the doctor was soon reached. It was a strongly-built house, of the olden style, and had stood through the storms and sunshine of many years. Its ex- terior was rather gloomy, from the substantial manner in which it had been constructed, and the entire absence of those architectural adornments, which give an airy look to the more modern structures. A flight of stone steps led up to the door, which was sunk deeply into the building, while over it a diamond-shaped window admitted air and light into the hall. Alich waited impatiently for the doctor to unlock the door and enter. They traversed a lono and narrow hall, but had proceeded but a few steps, when a door, at the further end, was thrown open by Anna, who exclaimed, on meeting the doctor : "Why! is it you? What have you come home for now?" "To see my little girl-brought some one along, too. Guess who," answered the doctor. Anna stepped forward to meet them, but the light in the hall was so obscure that she could not get a fair view of Mich, who modestly shrunk somewhat behind-the doctor, his heart beating with delight at seeing her again, while he at the same time felt an unpleasant sensation in his throat. When he, however, emerged into the bright light of the sit- CORNELL .LEAVES NEW YORK. 153 ting room, Anna gave one searching earnest look into his face, and then ran toward him and grasped his hand, ex- claiming ; "Mich Lynch- Oh, where did you find him? -How glad I am to see you I Why did'nt you come to see me before? You've got new clothes too, hav'nt you?" Poor Mich was completely overcome by Anna's demon- stration of friendship and cordiality. He could not speak for some time, and then he said: "Ye 'hav'nt forgotten me, have ye? I was afraid ye had." "Forget you I why I tried to find you, but why did'nt you come to see me -sooner?" "An' how was I to know that ye'd found sich a nice home as this," said Mich, glancing around the room. The doctor and Mrs. Hervey had been enjoying them- selves by silently witnessing the meeting between the children, but now Doctor Foster spoke : "I guess you'll get along here without me; can't lose any more time. Come and see us as often as you please, Mich.," Mich answered, " thank ye, sir," and turned to go with the doctor, although looking very wistfully at Anna and her mother. "Mich, you-need'nt go; you have been here but a few minutes. But I think your friend might offer you a seat," the doctor remarked as he left. Mrs. Hervey called Mich to her and talked with him-- + 8* page: 154-155[View Page 154-155] 154 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. asked him of his mother, and of their fortunes since she had last seen him. Mich answered her briefly and respectfully, although his delight at meeting Anna was turned into sad- ness on observing the very great change that had taken place in the appearance of her mother since last he had seen her. He could not fail to observe the sunken eyes, shadow- like form, and the emaciated hand that rested upon his arm. To him the chance was shocking. He turned around to look at Anna and wonder how she could smile and appear so contented, but Anna saw not her mother as Mich did. The gradual wasting away had been to her almost imperceptible ; nursing and waiting upon her night and day she could not mark the gradual change. She did not observe that day by day her mother's strength failed and her step became less firm. She hoped that when the spring came and the weather would permit her walking out that then she would be better. No one told her how fallacious was the hope she was cher- ishing, and so she dreamed. Her mother would sigh and turn away when Anna endeavored to cheer her with bright prospects of the future, for she felt that now her child was provided with a home, it would be cruel to imbitter her present happiness by recurring to that event, which, when- ever it should happen, be it sooner or later, would so mar her life's enjoyment. For herself she was ready and willing, whenever death should call her to that other home, and she strove by all her teaching and conversation to fill her daugh- ter's mind with such thoughts and principles, as would sus- tain her in the time of her affliction, and enable her confi- OORNELL L EAVES NEW YORK. 155 dingly to place her full reliance upon Him who must be her trust when the hour of eternal separation should come. Mrs. Hervey saw Mich's looks, and understood his feelings, and she feared he might betray what was in his thoughts, and therefore, to divert his mind, she said in a cheerful voice: "Now you and Anna go and sit down and chat away as fast as you can. It will be soon time for you to leave. I presume the doctor will let you come often if you do not stay too long." What a multitude of questions were asked and answered. What exclamations of wonder-of pity, and of delight, as the occurrences of the past few weeks were related by the children, the one to the other, and how quickly time sped away; but finally, Mich was reminded of the necessity of his leaving. He was urged by Anna to stay a few minutes longer, but replied firmly: "Indade an' ye know I'm willin' enough to stay widout yer' persuadin', but the docther'll may be be wantin' me now, so I'll jist lave ye now and come agin." He bade Mrs. Hervey good bye and started. Anna- fol- lowed him to the street door, and there she had so many last words that it was a long time before he got away. When Doctor Foster returned that day to his dinner, Anna was more talkative than ever. She had so many things' to tell about Mich-what he had said, and what he had done. Among other things she told of Mich's last interview with the pawnbroker, as Mich had related it to her. How he had page: 156-157[View Page 156-157] 156 OLD HAUNT THE PAWNBROKER. offered a quarter if Mich would find her. "I wonder what he wanted of me.- 'Can you guess?" she asked, inquir- ingly. "Humph I He want to find you? No good I'll warrant. Let me think-what was it-didn't you say something about a locket that you let him have?" "Anna took a locket there to pawn the day before "-- "Yes, yes, I understand," interrupted Doctor Foster. "It was a valuable picture," Mrs. Hervey continued. "Picture-miniature of your mother, you said, didn't you?" "Yes, it was valuable as a work of art. It was painted by an Italian. My mother went with my father one voyage when she was first married, and while abroad my father had that miniature painted. He always carried it with him while he lived, and when he died he left it to my brother, who several years since gave it to me. It was the last thing I parted with." "How much did you get for it?" asked the doctor. "He gave Anna a five dollar note which proved not to be current, and so we were obliged to lose a part of it." "Humph? That's honest; how much did you finally get for it?" "I think about two dollars and a half." "The rascal; but you are getting tired, don't talk any more. Anna tell me all about it. I'll get that locket again if it's to be found on the face of the earth. To impose upon helpless people after that fashion-the villain." OORNELL LEAVES -NEW YORK. 157 Anna then told him all the particulars that she could remember of her interview with the pawnbroker; and also of her buying the articles at the grocery, and of her treat- ment there. After a moment's thought the doctor exclaimed: "The lying rascal-cheat a child. If there's any law,- but you said Mich was with you." "Yes, I was afraid to go alone." "Well, whereas the ticket he gave you?" "The ticket--I don't know," Anna answered. "Don't know! What did you do with it?" "I don't remember; did I give it to you, mother?" "You may have done so; but I think it is lost. I have never seen it since." "Lost I Then the locket is lost, and that's the end of the whole matter," exclaimed the doctor angrily. He felt provoked and annoyed, and looked sullenly out of the window, without adding another word. Anna glanced at him timidly through the tears that were ready to fall; for she had never before seen a shade of anger upon his countenance, and it troubled her exceedingly. After looking out of the window for some minutes he turned sud- denly around to Apna and said: "When Mich Why, what's this? Tears-- what's the matter now?-crying? Don't cry, child-tell me what's the matter?" "I didn't mean to lose it. I'm so sorry it's lost, sobbed Anna. page: 158-159[View Page 158-159] 158 OLD HAUNX THE PAWNBROKER. "Humph I that's always the way with a woman--thought I was vexed, eh? and so I was, that's too bad, now come here, child. There, that's it; wipe your eyes, don't let's have any tears or snuffling--now for a kiss-there it's all settled now," said the doctor, as he gave her a hearty hug. "t Mrs. Hervey, you don't think as Anna did, I hope; but I'm confounded sorry the ticket's lost. Don't believe it'll make any great difference, after all. I'll 'go and see a law- yer. But it won't bring it back to fret about it. So, never mind-never mind-we'll find a way to get it again. Per- haps he don't know the value of the thing, and will be willing to sell it for a trifle." Anna wiped away her tears, and was happy again; and as he was preparing to leave the room, Mrs. Hervey remarked, "Doctor, I think I am mistaken about a ticket' since you have been speaking I have tried to recall the circumstances, and I think there was no ticket given. Anna, did the pawn- broker give you anything besides the five dollar note?" "No, Mother." "Why didn't you say so, then, child, before?" asked the doctor. "I didn't know what you meant. He offered me at first four shillings, but Mich said I shouldn't let him have it for less than five dollars, and so he gave me that," Anna answered. So it's sold, then. Well, if there's such a thing possi- ble, Ill have it back. I tell you, Mrs. Hervey, there's some- thing about this that I don't understand; there's a mystery OORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 159 connected with it. Why should the pawnbroker employ Mich to search for Anna, can you imagine? , Had you ever seen or heard of him before?1' "No, I cannot imagine why he should wish to find her." "Can it be that Mich has come merely to find out where she lives so as to report to him. I mistrust him." "No, that cannot be," answered Mrs. Hervey. "But I cannot fathom it; it's no mere caprice; but after all there may be-some very simple reason for his wishing to find her, and when I have time to pass by his shop I'll inquire myself. I hate mystery, and if this Mich should come here again, remember to tell him I want to see him." So saying, the doctor left them alone, and took his way to his office. As he went along he could not keep the mat- ter out of his mind. Taking the whole circumstances to- gether, he was dissatisfied. He was out of humor with himself at having spoken so bluntly as to hurt Anna's feelings, for he had become greatly attached to her. His noble heart had found something on which to lavish the wealth of his affections, and he was vexed for having allowed himself to show any signs of ill-humrnor. He was annoyed at the coincidence, which had made him introduce to his home Mich, a raw Irish boy, of whose principles and habits he knew nothing; and who, for aught he knew, might be an emissary of this pawnbroker, whom, the doctor feared, was plotting some evil against his ward, page: 160-161[View Page 160-161] 160 OLD HA UX, THE PAWNBROKER. but why or how, he could not resolve ; but he determined to keep an eye upon them both, and endeavor, by his watchfulness, to thwart any plans -that they might be plotting. -! DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 161 CHAPTER VII. DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. APRIL, with its rain and sunshine had passed. In the distant fields the balmy breath of spring, lifted lightly the lea of the early flower. All nature was revived by its gentle caress. But to the drooping, fainting, feeble invalid, in the heart of the great city, it came not. The sun was shining, and its cheerful light entered the open casement of the room, where Mrs. Hervey lay. The sofa had been wheeled away from the grate, and near the window, that she might feel the cheering influence of the bright spring day. She had but just risen, and it was now near noon. But to Anna's question, "How do you feel now, mother?" she answered, "Weak, my daughter, very weak." Anna drew the shawl more closely around her mother, and smoothed her pillow, endeavoring by caresses to show her affection. Her lips quivered, and her eyes suffused with tears when she noticed the increasing weakness of that dear parent. Even now, she did not really understand page: 162-163[View Page 162-163] 162 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. that health and strength had left her forever. She hoped that each succeeding day would restore them to her, as the springtime brings life to the flower that the snows of winter have crushed. This morning, Mrs. Hervey seemed more cheerful than usual, and Anna had confidently expected that she would say she felt better. Her mother's answer had disappointed and discouraged her. After having bestowed all possible attention upon her mother's comfort, she brought her chair close beside the sofa, and, with her work-basket by her side, sat silently down to the com- pletion of the task which she had began. After sitting undisturbed for a few moments, Mrs.- Hervey inquired of her: "What time is it, Anna?" "'Most dinner time, I think," Anna replied, as she went to the window and looked out, and then sought Biddy and repeated the question. "Yes, mother, it is almost three o'clock," she replied, returning to her seat. "Doctor Foster will be here soon then." "Yes, the good doctor will soon come ; but what do you want of him, mother?" "My daughter, I want to see a clergyman. I want to hear, once more, the beautiful prayers of the church. I feel as though they would give me strength." "Will they make you well, mother?" "Annp, I sincerely trust that all is well with me now. My body can never be better or stronger, but my spirit Will DOCTOR F OSTER AND ANNA. 163 soon be free ; I feel it, I know it ; Anna, my dear girl, it is not possible that I should live long ; you must not expect it," said Mrs. Hervey, very feebly. "Oh, mother I my darling mother, don't talk so. You must not die, and leave me here alone." "Not alone. "There is one who will always be with you.' "Oh, dear, what can I do? I shall have no father nor mother-no one to love me when you are gone." "Do you forget the kind friend whom God has raised up for you, Anna?" "Oh, no, Dr. Foster is good and kind, and I love him, too, but he is not my mother." "True; child; but you know I cannot always be with you, and a few years more or less can not make much difference. Trust in God and he will protect and love you. Remember always that ' He doeth all things well. '" Anna could only weep; she could not reason upon the" goodness or justice of the act that should deprive her of a mother's love. Doctor Foster soon entered, and going toward Mrs. Hervey cast upon her a scrutinizing glance, saying: "Good morning: warming yourself in the sun? Eh I Anna, crying, why what does this mean?" "Oh, mother says she is going to die," Anna answered, and again burst into a flood of tears, and turning to her kind friend, clasped the hand that was extended towards her. "Come here, my own little girl. I hope she will live a long time yet," said the doctor as he drew the weeping child towards him. page: 164-165[View Page 164-165] 164 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER-. "Doctor, don't try to deceive her ; it is not right that you should-the reality must come soon, and it is better that she should be prepared for it." The doctor took no notice of the remark, but continued caressing Anna, and whispering kind words in her ear. In a few moments she became more tranquil, and then he said cheerfully: it Run down stairs now and see if you can't help Biddy get the dinner, for I'm terribly hungry." Anna started immediately, although she was not deceived by the doctor's ruse to get her away. After she had left the room, he said: "Mrs. Hervey, don't say anything more about that to her. Poor little thing it would break her heart to lose you. It does no good to talk about it. You cannot reason her into resignation. It is not in the nature of things. You may live yet a long time. I have not attempted to deceive you, and while I say that you may live yet a long time, you are as well aware of the fact as I am, that your days on earth may be much fewer than we suppose. There is nothing that I would leave undone either to protract your life, or to alle- viate your suffering. But don't even try to make Anna real- ize your situation. Poor thing I it will crush her when it does come, but let her enjoy life as long as she can." "Dactor, Foster, I feel that you are right. Your counsel is correct. God will bless you for your kindness to my poor child. Love her; protect her thus through life ; and the loss of father and mother will be more easily borne by her," said Mrs. Hervey with emotion. DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA . 165 "Let me assure you that I will never desert her through life, and upon this you may rely ; while I live she shall share with me, and when I am called hence, I intend that she shall not be left destitute, said the doctor, earnestly. "I am satisfied. I have now two requests to make of you, and then I am done. I feel that I -am nearer my end than even you imagine, and, therefore, as I have now an opportu- nity I will speak without reserve," continued Mrs. Hervey. "Say on ; whatever lies in my power shall be done for you," replied the doctor. Mrs. Hervey continued: "If you ever have an opportu- nity, will you learn whether my brother, William Leonard, is living. If you should discover him, tell him from me that I often longed to see him, and assure him of my love and -of my forgiveness for his neglect. I know he must, if living, have regretted it ; although I have but little expectation of your ever meeting him." "Supposing he were to appear and claim Anna as his relative, what then?" "Anna I leave as my legacy to you, You shall have the entire control and disposition of her- until she shall" become of a proper age to take care of and act for herself. I do this, feeling secure in the knowledge of your affection for her," i' That is enough : from this tjme she is e- What was. the other request?" "I would like to see a clergyman." "Any one in particular?" page: 166-167[View Page 166-167] 166 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Yes 1 of the Church." "Episcopal, I suppose, you mean." "Very well, I will seek one and send him to you as soon as I go into the street again." "Thank you," Mrs. Hervey replied feebly, as she sank back upon the pillow and closed her eyes. Biddy soon com- menced laying the cloth for dinner, and with Anna's assist- ance everything was soon ready. They sat down and ate in silence, for no one felt inclined to converse. Anna had ar- ranged the large easy chair for her mother, and had drawn it to the table, where, with the doctor's assistance she was comfortably placed. After the doctor had finished his meal, and prepared to leave, he said to Mrs. Hervey : "Let me lay you on the sofa ; you will get too tired if you try to sit up until I come back." "Biddy and I can help her," said Anna "You I Well, well, do it then," and turning to leave the room, muttered, "Do all you can, poor thing I Won't have a chance long to help her." ' The doctor went along debating in his own mind what clergyman he should call. He was particularly acquainted with several, but he had become attached to no society, nor church. At length he decided to call upon a neighboring clergyman whom he had several times met, and proceeded at once to the house. As he stood waiting an answer to his summons, he said to himself: "Don't see what she can want with a clergyman. She's DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 167 better than any of them-hope she'll be happier in the next world than she has been in this." His soliloquy was interrupted by the opening of the, door by the clergyman himself, who was about going out on a' professional call. The doctor made known to him the object of his visit, and inquired if he could go. The clergyman consented, and they started together: as they walked along the doctor related, in answer to some questions concerning her former life, as much as he thought it necessary to communicate. It was' enough for the worthy minister to know that she desired his services. He did not attempt to pry into her present condition or her past life, but wished only to learn enough of her character and disposition that he might be able to speak understandingly, and the better minister to her spiritual wants. They soon arrived at the doctor's residence, and he led the way into the room of the sick woman, saying: "Mrs. Hervey, here is the clergyman, as you wished. Anna won't you go and take a walk with me while this gentle- man talks with your mother." Anna's heart was too full to speak, she could only look imploringly at her kind friend. The doctor understood the appeal and said: "Don't want to go, eh? Better go; but do just as you have a mind to. Say, will you go?" "I'draaer not leave mamnma-," said Anna, in a whisper. page: 168-169[View Page 168-169] 168 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Well, well ; stay then. I'll go away for a while, and be back soon." The doctor then left. While this was passing between the doctor and Anna, Mrs. Hervey had been engaged in answering some general questions of the clergyman. But he had observed Anna's reluctance to leave and become interested in her, and as the doctor closed the door he continued : "I trust, Mrs. Hervey, you are not alarmed at the near approach of death." "i No, sir; death has no terrors for me. Anna. is now the only tie to bind me to earth. The love of a mother is strong ; for her sake I cling to life, although God has raised up for her a friend in her need, and I am truly grateful." "You tire yourself, I fear. You had better speak but little," remarked the clergyman, as he observed Mrs. Hervey's exhaustion. "Anna, will you bring me a Bible. I will read to your mother." Anna brought her mother's own Bible. It was the family Bible-one that her husband had given her as a bridal present. This made it doubly dear to her, although she loved it for its intrinsic value. Through all the pressure of want she had preserved it, and now it was the only legacy that she could leave her child. The man of God opened and read, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will .fear no evil: for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me." These blessed words fell upon her soul like dew upon the thirsty earth. DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 169 He continued, and his voice gathered strength and earnestness-as he proceeded. It seemed to revive her exhausted energies. Denied as she had been for so long a time the privilege of listening to the Word from the lips of its ministers, the language of encouragment and comfort now addressed to her, carried with it a consoling power never before experienced by her. And then he prayed. The same prayers were now offered by her dying couch, which she had loved even in child- hood. She lay with her emaciated hands clasped, and her eyes upraised, as if her wrapt spirit had already taken its flight. Anna's face was buried in the clothes that covered her dying mother, and she did not observe the sudden move-, ment with which the minister bent forward to catch a glimpse of the features of the sick woman as he arose from his knees-but she was aroused by hearing him exclaim in a hurried voice: "Anna, speak to your mother." "Mother," she whispered. No look-no sign of recognition, and again she repeated . in a louder voice, "Mother I mother, speak to Anna!" "Anna, your mother is in Heaven," said the minister, as he gazed sadly upon the pale face, and placed his hand upon the forehead. Oh, the agony of that young heart when the wailing cry of "mother," was unanswered-again she called " mother!" as she grasped the thin hand in both her own, but its cold- 8 page: 170-171[View Page 170-171] 170 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. noss chilled her young blood, as she dropped senseless to the floor. As the clergyman lifted her from the floor, Doctor Foster and Biddy simultaneously entered the room. Anna's cry had startled both, and they rushed in to discover the cause. "What is it?" exclaimed the doctor. "She is dead I and this child has fainted," answered the minister. "Poor thing-give her here? Water, Biddy-quick, girl, be quick-some water?" The frightened servant brought water and sprinkled in Annals face, with loud and violent exclamations of grief. "There-stop your noise, Biddy, she is coming to. Poor child," said the doctor, as he pressed his lips to her cheek. And then the rough old man turned away to hide the tears that trickled down his weather-beaten face. He who had looked upon suffering in every shape, almost without a sigh, now wept over the agony of the helpless child in his arms. The clergyman closed the eyes of the dead, and laid her clasped hands' upon her breast, and then turned to the reviving Anna, and said: "My dear child--God has taken earth's best treasure from you, and left you to breast alone the storms of life, may He temper the wind to the shorn lamb!" "Anna, child; do you feel better now?" said the doctor, in soothing tones. Anna languidly opened her eyes, and looked inquiringly DOOTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 171 into the doctor's face, and then closed them again, while a shiver crept over her whole frame. "Biddy, open the door? let me put her on the bed, per- haps she will fall asleep," said the doctor. He carried her and laid her on her own bed, covered her, and kissing her tenderly left the room. There she lay stricken of grief-weak and helpless as an infant. Pros- trated by the shock, she did not weep, but lay with closed eyes listening tremblingly to the noise of hurrying feet, and the sound of voices echoing through the house.' Biddy open- ed the door, and came stealthily to the bed, and bent over Anna, saying in a whisper: "Slapin' so sweetly, the dear child." Anna opened her eyes and said, "I'm awake, Biddy." "Och I darlint, ye're hungry now, won't ye get up and ate the nice supper that I have for ye?" "I am not hungry," "Now don't ye be refusin' me, ye must thry and ate a bit, the masther bade ye. Come now, down in the kitchen."' "Will you help me up, Biddy, I feel so bad, so bad here," said Anna, laying her hand over her heart. This was too much for Biddy's composure, notwithstand- ing the doctor's directions not to make "a fuss" before Anna. She could no longer contain herself, but clasping the child in her arms, pressed her to her bosom, while the -, tears flowed freely, and she exclaimed raiing her up from the bed: "The Maints pres arve you, poor innocent crathr, what' I page: 172-173[View Page 172-173] 172 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBRO ERn. become of ye in the wide world alone; but ye shall niver want, while I have me two hands left to work wid ; och hone!" / Thus moaning, and giving way to her sorrow, she took Anna in her arms ana carried her down into the kitchen, where she tried to persuade her to eat something, but in vain. Failing in this, she sat down caressing and crooning over her. Biddy's feelings were touched by the pale face, tearless eyes, and fixed look of Anna. She could not under- stand the sorrow that found no vent in tears. Thus they sat, until twilight found Biddy slumbering, and Anna lying quietly in her arms. The opening and closing of doors, and the tread of feet in the rooms above had ceased. - The measured step of the doctor alone was heard. Soon he came down, and without a word took Anna in his arms and carrying her up stairs, sat down with her in his lap. Anna started, and looked anxiously about when they entered the little sitting room, and then exclaimed, as she glanced around: "Where, where have you put her?" 4In there, she has not been taken away." "May I see her now?" "Yes," said the doctor, as he placed her on her feet, and led her into the next room. The grey light of evening came dimly through the open window, but enough to mark distinctly the slender form that lay shrouded there as unchanged in feature as if she slept- DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 1T3 a gentle breeze entered the casement and lifted one lock of hair from the marble forehead. Anna knelt, and smoothing back the dishevelled lock, buried her face in her hands murmuring, " my dear mother." Then came to her the full sense of her loss, for when before had her caresses ever been unreturned-when, the word of love unheard and unanswered? Tears for the first time now rolled down her cheek and fell upon the face of the dead, while convulsive sobs shook her frame. The doctor led her away, pillowing her head upon his shoulder, thus she wept, long and silently. There was no fond mothers sheltering arms to fly to now. No word of love to check her grief, no tender embrace to quiet pain. The world was before her. The wilderness of life, and like Hagar, she must wander forth alone. \ . ' page: 174-175[View Page 174-175] 174 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. CHAPTER Vilil. THE VISIT AND PLOT. UPON the receipt by Haun of Cornell's letter he opened and read it calmly through, and then re-read it, and finally- laying it down said, "Just as I thought, men are all natu- rally knaves. Take a thousand dollars and deliver up the bond I Not I; either the whole or nothing ; but I see plainly two things are to be done. First, that boy Mich must be hunted up, that's one thing; secondly, I must, if ne- cessary, go down to New Orleans; that's the other thing." "But now for Mich-let me think. I've noticed him several times lately with that gay doctor down near the battery, I must see him." So soliloquizing, the pawnbroker closed his shop, and started rapidly down Broadway towards the office of Doctor Marsh. Reaching the place, he entered, and ob- serving a student sitting with his feet raised up on the back of a chair, and lazily perusing a morning paper, he inquired of him: "Is Doctor Marsh within?" The young man raised his eyes leisurely from the paper, and permitted them to rest for a moment upon the intruder, THE VI8SIT AND PLOT. 175 and then dropped them again upon paper, and continued reading without deigning a word in answer : Haun stood for some moments in the middle of the floor, waiting for a recognition of his presence from the individual, until getting somewhat impatient, he in a calm voice asked again -: "Yoig man, is Doctor Marsh at home F' The student glanced up at the questioner, and then looking slowly about the room as if searching for some one, replied- "No ; I should think not; I don't see him anywhere here." Haun took no notice of the impertinent tone and manner, but continued: "Do you know a boy by the name of Mich Lynch?" "No I I regretexceedingly on your account, that he does not happen to be numbered among the gentlemen of my acquaintance." "I understand he is in the employ of Dr. Marsh." "You may be correct." "I am anxious to find him, and will wait till Doctor Marsh returns." "By the way," remarked the student after a pause," it does seem to me that I have heard the name. The indivi- dual who oversees the horse-holding and office-sweeping de- partment, if I remember right, bears that cognomen." "Do you know where he is at present?" 'Really, sir, you will excuse my ignorance, but I am V- -lly unable to answer your interrogatory." page: 176-177[View Page 176-177] 176 OLD HAUN, THE?AWNBROKER. "It's of no consequence, I observe Doctor Marsh coming, and will inquire of him." "Good morning, doctor," said Haun, as the physician entered. "Ah, good morning, I was unexpectedly detained, or I should have left word ; but take a seat ; don't remain stand- ing. Brown, why don't you offer Mr. Haun a chair?" The student stood in amazement to see the haughty and aristocratic physician, greet in such a cordial manner the person whom he had supposed from his rough exterior and slovenly dress to be some unfortunate stranger seeking, per- haps, a charitable call. He allowed the paper to slide from his hand to the floor, and looked on without rising or speaking. "oI should hope this young man didn't copy his manners from his master," remarked Haun, qnietly.. "I don't understand," replied Doctor Marsh, looking at each alternately. "It's nothing at all, only this young gentleman took me possibly for one of his. own acquaintances, as I judge from his manner before you entered." "' I hope nothing has occurred to offend you," Doctor Marsh remarked, deprecatingly. "Oh, no ; I don't allow myself to be offended; but to cut the matter short, this person chose to answer me very impertinently." "How is this, Brown?" "I thought---" said the abashed Brown. "I didn't know that he was a friend of yours, or H--" T-HE VISIT AND PLOT. "You should know all are friends who come to see me, and particularly this gentleman, Mr. Haun. As it will not be for my interest to retain you, you will consider your engagement with me terminated. Come this evening, and we will arrange any arrears there may be. Now, Mr. Haun, step into this room," said Dr. lMarsh, leading the way into an inner office, while Haun followed after. As the latter passed the discomfited Brown, who stood with hat in hand ready to take his leave, Haun leered into his face, and with a grimace whispered: "You don't see him anywhere here, do you?" and with- out stopping, passed on after Doctor Marsh into the private office. Motioning his visitor to a seat, Doctor Marsh remarked: "I hope you didn't come to talk of money to-day, did you? the times are too close."' "No, I came for another purpose." "Indeed I What might that be?" inquired Doctor Marsh, curiously. , V "Isn't there a boy living with you by the name of Mich Linch?" "Yes, I think that's the- name of the lad. It's Mich at any rate. But you don't think of offering him any other situation? I could not well part with him."- "No, I've no such intention ; I want merely to speak with him a moment. Can you tell me where I shall find him at present?" "I think he's below, holding my horse. Shall I call him up?" 8" page: 178-179[View Page 178-179] 178 OLD HA UN THE PAWNBROKER. "No, I'm obliged to you, I can speak with him'just as well there." "Is Mich one of your customers?" "Perhaps you'd like to have me publish a list of my customers." "Not very particular,"- he answered, with a shrug. "Wouldn't like to see your name in print, I suppose?" "No, I'm not desirous of seeing it in the company it would probably have." "Not such bad company neither. I think you'd recog- nize some very near friends ; but good morning ; I must see the boy Mich a minute," answered the pawnbroker, as he left the office. The doctor watched him from the window, as he ap- proached the carriage to speak to Mich,- and observed Mich's start of surprise; but at the moment, the attention of the doctor was attracted to the entrance of some person, and he turned from the window. It was the student, who said : "I thought as you might have a few moments' leisure, I'd come in now and arrange our matters before leaving." "Pshaw!" nonsense, Brown; just sit down and go to your studies. Didn't you know who that was? Among gentlemen, Mr. Haun, the money lender and usurer; among the poorer classes, Old Haun the pawnbroker."' "I had never seen him before, and did not take him, from his appearance, to be one of your acquaintances." "An acquaintance, but not a friend. It's always best' to keep on the right side of such persons. So, never mind THE VISIT AND PLOT. 179 what I said; I did it only to put the old fellow in good humor.' "Well, he's the toughest-looking knot I've seen this many a day, and I don't think I was much to blame for taking him for a pauper; and I tell you what it is, I don't like to be snubbed in that way, just ti0 please every one that chooses to take offence at my mn irs ;" and so, giving vent to his feelings, the young man went sullenly back to his seat, avowing to himself, that if he should ever get a chance, he'd break the old devil's neck, or do some other equally charitable act. Mich was quite astonished when, on looking up, he recognized his old acquaintance, the pawnbroker, and in- quired: "Did you spake to me, sir?" "Of course I did. So you've got up a step in the world, have you?" "Ye've hit it this time. Kape a horse and carriage, ye see,"answered, Mich, looking up boldly into the pawnbro ker's face. "Yes, I see. Your good luck has made you forget your old friends, I suppose-that's the way it always goes. You don't see that little girl any more, do you?" "Not the laste bit in the- world ; no such thing. Have I missed seein' her a day since her poor mother died? tell me that," answered Mich, indignantly. "Well, I was wrong then. I'm glad thereds one who doesn't forget his friends. So her mother is dead, is she V" page: 180-181[View Page 180-181] 180 OL I HA U N, THE PAWNBROKER. "Yes, it's a week ago, to-day, that she died; but I'm thinkin' ye're not the one to care much for it?" "Perhaps not; but I want to speak with her. She's born to good luck, Mich; and if I can only find her, I can tell her something that she'll be glad to know. This is the reason I wanted you to look for her, as I mentioned awhile ago ; but, I suppose, you don't have time now to do any- thing for your friends." "What is it?" eagerly inquired Mich. "Perhaps you'll hear, if you come along with me ; or if you'd rather, and will promise to call at my shop, as soon as you are through here, I'll wait there for you." I'll niver fail to be there." "At what time will you come?" "By five o'clock, sure." "Well, I'll wait till that time," Haun carelessly remarked, as he walked away, delighted with his success. He had found her at last. But what excuse," said he to himself, "shall I make for my visit. I must trump up something; but that's easily arranged; I'll think it over." So meditating and resolving, he returned to his shop, and entering into the remotest corner of his gloomy den, like a wolf in his lair, curled himself up, to think undisturbed, and devise a plot for obtaining possession of the unsuspecting girl, who was the subject of his machinations. For a long time he sat thus, his knees drawn up to his chin, and his eyes glaring at the only aperture which admitted the light, till rousing him- self be arose, and with a chuckle Raid, "That's it," and at THE VI SIT AND PLOT. 181 the same moment the clock in the neighboring church tower struck five-and as the last reverberations sounded, Mich -entered the street door, and the pawnbroker advanced with alacrity to meet him. "Here I am, sir," Mich exclaimed, on entering. "No doubt of it," answered Haun; "I see you, and now, if you are ready I am, and we will go and find the little girl." They started at once, and in a few minutes stood before Doctor Foster's house. Mich seized the door knob and was about to ring, when Haun laid his hand upon Mich's arm and arrested the motion, at the same -time saying: "Stop a moment. Is it here that she is?" "To be sure it is." "Doctor Fosterqlives-here, don't he?" asked Haun, as he read the name on- the door. "Indade he does, but he don't live all alone." "' Now, as I'm alive, I've just this moment thought of an engagement with a man that I promised to meet at my shop, at this very time, and here I am a dozen blocks from home. I shan't more than have time to get back. I must come an- other day," exclaimed Haun, with a look of chagrin at his pretended disappointment; and without farther remark, after glancing up at the street and number on the home, turned and walked rapidly away, leaving Mich standing with his hand on the knob, and his mouth open with surprise, as he gazed after the rapidly retreating figure of his late compan- ion. Mich was aroused by the voice of Biddy, who, looking up from a basement window, cried out: page: 182-183[View Page 182-183] 182 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Arrah, Mich, what'r ye blearin' at there? Come in wid ye." Mich descended into the kitchen, and while speaking a moment with Biddy, Anna accidentally entered. She saluted him cordially, and inquired: "Why don't you come oftener to see me, Mich? I've no one to talk to now but you." "I didn't come to see ye now." "You didn't I Then who did you come to see, Doctor Foster?" "I'm jist afther comin' wid the ould villain of a pawn- broker, and nobody else," answered Mich. "Howly Moses I an' it's choice company ye'r kapin'," in- terrupted Biddy. "He's none o' me company thin; and be the same token where's the harm of it if he was?" answered Mich, while his face flushed with anger. "Yed bether let Docthor Fosther hear ye say that same, ye had." "Sorry a bit do I care thin, whither Docthor Fosther or inny other docthor hears me say it." "More shame th ye thin," retorted Biddy. "Mich, what made you do it," asked Anna, soothingly. "The ould limb of Satan," ejaculated Biddy. "If ye'd only tell me what ye mane, sure I'd understand ye betther. I came across him in the street, and he asked me if I knew where ye, (Anna) was livin'; and could I deny it, and tell a lie; and he wanted me to go wid him to see ye, THE VISIT AND PLOT. 183 as he'd somethin' to tell ye; and now he's gone and lift me widout as much as sayin' by ye'r lave. No such bad luck in that, aither; and now it's small thanks I'm getting for me throuble Y "Well, well, Mich, don't be vexed," said Anna, laying her hand upon his arm. "Mich, are ye spakin' the truth?" demanded Biddy, sol- emnly. "Is it that ye'r after askin' me, if it's the truth I'm spakin'?" Never mind, Mich, Doctor Poster'll be in soon. He wants to see you, he told me to tell you so. Don't care about what Biddy said, she's vexed at that bad man's coming here when Doctor Foster didn't want him to come." At that moment Doctor Foster's step was heard above; and soon the whole- affair was repeated to him. He ques- tioned Mich very closely, and at length said: "Mich, I'm sorry you brought that man here. I'm afraid of him. I'm afraid of his villainous, scheming disposition. I understand he has tried for some time to discover Anna. If he would come boldly and openly to my house, I should not, perhaps, be suspicious; but he skulks, and there's evil in him. I do not believe you would do anything to injure Anna; but he is plotting some villainy which will soon develop itself. So be on your guard, and be careful, Mich, after this, what you tell him." "I'll remember, sir. But, wasn't it quare he didn't come in after he'd found out the house?" page: 184-185[View Page 184-185] 184 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Humph, boy, he only wanted to find out where she was. That locket that you and Anna sold him has something to do with the matter; but what, I can't comprehend.- So we'll wait for more. But if I find the old devil prowling around here, I'll break his head with my cane." "I hope sir, ye'll not blame me; for by the manner of talkin' he has, I thought he was her best friend on earth." "No, Mich, no harm done yet; but if he should ask you any more questions you must not answer him; or at least, not give him any information. "Not a word 'll he iver get from me again," Mich an- swered, as bidding Anna good bye he left. He had gone, but a short distance when he saw the pawnbroker approaching him. They met and Haun said to him: "Well I how is your little friend to-day?" "About the same, sir." "I suppose she enjoys herself very much now." "Ye'd bether belave it." "She'll always stay with the doctor, won't she? He means to keep her." "Perhaps if ye'd ask him yerself he'd be plased to an- swer ye." "Has she heard from her friends?" asked Haun. "No doubt she has many a time." "It's my opinion you don't know much about the matter any way." "Ye're excadin' good at guessin,'"Mich answered, as he turned off abruptly and permitted the pawnbroker to cone TH-E VISIT AND PLOT. 185 tinue on his way. Mich muttered to himself: "The dirthy ould rascal, to be afther tryin' to stale around in that fashin', like a thafe o' the world as lihe is, but all he's found out by me this time won't hurt him." Haun continued on his way, but was disappointed. He had laid in wait for Mich, intending on his leaving Doctor Foster's house to fall in with him as if accidentally, and thus worm out of him any further knowledge the latter might have, and the possession of which he considered material in enabling, him to carry into successful operation the plans that he had resolved upon. Still he had learned sufficient for his present purpose, and so returned to his shop to ad- dress to Cornell the following answer to the communication he had just received. "NEW YORK, xJay 15th, 18--. "MR. JAMES CORNELL, New Orleans. "Your bond forten thousand dollars is, according to its terms payable. It is unnecessary for me to waste time or words i if the amount of the same is not paid before the first day of July next, I shall produce the legal heir to the estate of William Leonard, and put her in possession of the property which you now wrongfully en- ioy. This is not a vain threat, I have her under my control, and you may rest assured that I shall not quietly release the amount due to me from you and leave you in undisturbed possession of the property. Keep your word with me, and your possession shall never be disturbed by any act of mine. It will be unnecessary for you to write again. until you are prepared to make the remittance, and to comply fully with the conditions of your agreement. "Yours, &c., "CARLOS HAUN." page: 186-187[View Page 186-187] 186 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. Having dispatched this letter, the pawnbroker waited for a few days before making any further attempts to carry out his designs. He finally determined, however, to call at the house in the absence of Dr. Foster for the purpose of having an interview with the ward of the latter. He desired to learn something farther of her former history, to make him- self acquainted with her person, and also by a partial in- timacy to dispel the aversion that a sudden unexplained pre- sentation of himself would create, and also by specious ar- tifices to establish as favorable an impression of his own excellent qualities as possible. This he considered a neces- sary preliminary, and therefore kept watch near the residence of Doctor Foster till he was certain of his absence, and then went boldly to the door and rung the bell. It so happened that Anna herself opened the door. Haun recognized her in a moment, and said,: "Good morning, Anna. How do you do? I'll walk in for a fewminutes. I want to talk with you." Anna stepped aside and allowed him to -pass. She was at a loss what to do and therefore made no reply but closed the door and followed after him through the hall and into the sitting room which he, perceiving the door open, had en- tered. There they were met by Biddy, who had come up to answer the bell, andswho looked inquiringly from one to the other, but Anna's countenance was blank and that of the new comer imperturbable. Biddy therefore broke silence by inquiring: "Did ye want the docthor, sir?" TRE VISIT AND PLOT. 18T "No, I came to see this little girl, and to talk with her, we shan't need you, you can leave." "Indade, sir, an' I'll not stir a step till I know who ye are and what ye're business may be here, sir," answered Biddy, positively. "Just as you please then, I only want to tell her about a friend that she has, that I used to know. She needn't be afraid of me." "I am not afraid of you, but I havn't any friend except those who live here, and I don't want to talk with you either," answered Anna, courageously. Haun's eyes glared upon her a moment, but the look of malice soon passed from his features, and gave place to his usual crafty expression. "Perhaps you don't like me very well now, because we have n't- got acquainted yet, but you'll like me a great deal better when you have heard all I'm going to tell you." "Don't ye belave -him, Anna, he's decavin' ye," interrupt- ed Biddy, who had stood listening attentively. "He's the same one that the doecthor was so vexed about, I'm sure he is, au' I'm thinkin' he'll not want ye to be spakin' with him at all." "I know it, Biddy," I haven't forgotten him. If the doctor should come home and find you here, sir, I think you'd be sorry." "So ho I then youe haven't forgotten me since you and your Irish friend came to sell that trinket. But never fear, page: 188-189[View Page 188-189] 188 OLD HAv N, THE PAWNBROKER. the doctor's coming; he and I are good friends, I've just seen him. I suppose you are his daughter now?" "Yes, I am, I mean to live with him always. I've got no one else now, to live with," said Anna, sadly. "Och I darlint, haven't ye me too, an' don't I love ye as if ye were my own flesh and blood?" exclaimed Biddy. "Well I well I now let me speak, your uncle has sent me to see you. You recollect your uncle, don't you?" "My uncle I I haven't any uncle." "Why yes, you have, your uncle William Leonard. .He was a captain of a vessel when you were a little baby- you've heard of him?" "Do you know him?"Anna eagerly inquired. "Know him I he's the best friend. I have in the world." "I thought he was dead? mother used to say so." "No more dead than you are or I, I saw him not more than two weeks since." "Well; he's not a very good uncle, or he would have been to see us ; I don't care much about him?" "But what if he couldn't, what if he'd been hunting and looking for you and your mamma almost the world over, for years. But I'm sure you'll like him when you have heard all that I can tell you." "Do, tell me, won't you? all about my uncle," Anna inquired, in her eagerness to learn something of one, of whom her mother had so often spoken before her death. "Come close up to me and don't be afraid, and perhaps I will." THE VISIT AND- PLOT. 189 Anna hesitated for a moment, but her curiosity over- came her dislike and she approached, and stood by his side, while he took her hand in his own and continued: "So you didn't know that this uncle has been looking for you so long, and has spent ever so much money to find you, and has got me to hunt through 'the whole city after you? Didn't that little Irish boy tell you anything about my pay- ing him to search?" "Yes, Mich told me that you wanted him to find me, but I didn't know what for." "Well that's what it's for-it's so your poor uncle won't go crazy from wandering over the world, looking here and there and every where for you," said Haun, as he attempted to distort his features into assuming a sad expres- sion. "I told Doctor Foster what Mich said, and he was very angry," Anna- continued. "That's because he didn't know what, was wanted, but now listen, because I'm going to tell you all about your uncle William Leonard. First, then, when he was,young he went to sea and stayed away a great while, and when he got back and found your mother married, and you a little thing in the cradle, he went off to Europe and travelled about a great while till he became rich, and owned a great many vessels. Then after awhile he came back home and wanted to find you and your mother. So he was not so very wicked, was he? He looked everywhere as I told you -but you had left your old home in New England, when he page: 190-191[View Page 190-191] 190 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. went back there, and he couldn't find you. He felt very bad about it, too." "How do you know all that?" asked Anna, naively. "Teld me himself," answered Haun. "Did he? oh I'm so sorry mamma didn't know it. Where is he now? I should like to see him." "Don't be impatient, there's time enough for that yet, let me tell you more about him: he wanted to find you that he might take care of you, and that you might live with him, and then he would buy you nice clothes and everything that could make you happy. IlHe wants to see you very much, and you must go with me some day to visit him." Haun stopped to note the effect of his well told tale, and chuckled at the expression of interest and credulity exhibited in the eager and fixed look of Anna, and he thought to himself that his work was half accomplished, and the task easier than he had anticipated. Anna interrupted his thoughts by saying: "Tell me more of him. Don't stop," while Biddy stood unconsciously with arms a-kimbo, and mouth open, intently listening to the recital. "Don't you want to turn me out of doors now?"-asked Haun, with a grin. "Oh, no; I didn't think at first that you knew my uncle," answered Anna, deprecatingly. "Well, then, I hope you will like me better the next time I come, now that we have become acquainted," said Haun, rising to leave. THE VISIT AND PLOT. 191 "Don't go yet, won't you please tell me where my uncle is now?" "Perhaps I will the next time, and then you can go with me to see him, but not now." "I wish you would tell me now." "Would you go and live with him?" "Oh, no, I couldn't go and leave good Doctor Foster and Biddy," Anna answered. "Och, the darlint 1" exclaimed Biddy. "Why couldn't you leave him?" pursued Haun. "Oh, he loves me so much he wouldn't let me go, I know." "Is that all the reason? why your uncle would love you as much as he does, and-would do a great deal more for you, too, besides he's your mother's brother." "Yes, I know ; but --- "I Well, never mind now." "Will you come again and tell me'where my uncle is, and when I can see him?" "Yes, some time ; and perhaps he'll come along with me, though he can't go around much just now, but you can go with me and see him, you know, you'd like to, wouldn't you?" "Yes; if Doctor Foster says I may." "Well, you needn't say anything about it to Doctor Foster, because, perhaps, your uncle 'll come himself. Now good bye, my little girl, till I see you again," said Haun, as he left the house. " Anna was very impatient for the return of Doctor Poster, page: 192-193[View Page 192-193] 192 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKEiR. she had so much to tell him about the discovery of her uncle, and about her visit from the pawnbroker. But she was astonished and totally unprepared for the ebullition of passion and feeling, which her narrative of the events of the morning produced upon him. She listened in silence to his muttered threats and impre- cations, till finally approaching him, she inquired: "What is the matter?" "Matter, child-matter enough, but I can see through it all, I know just how it 'll end, but it shan't though, if I can help it. This uncle has come to life sooner than I expected, and just at the wrong time, too, and she's on nettles to know all about him. I suppose the next thing 'll be, she'll want to go and see him, and then go and visit him-all from curiosity. Why the devil can't a woman live without knowing everything. There, now, don't go to crying, child, I am not fretting at you, you couldn't help it. I believe that old devil has lied to you. Don't believe a word of it, don't believe he ever saw your uncle. Did he say he ever saw him?" "I guess he did, I don't remember. He told me so many things. How could he know all about what my uncle thought and did, if he had not seen him?"Anna inquired. "Humph I can it be? If it should-but I'll thwart him yet. Didn't I say there was something in the wind, when that old villain hired Mich to look for you? I knew it, because he'd never engage in any honest work." "Why, what do you mean?" T HE VISIT AND -PLOT. 193 "Never you mind. I'll attend to him." "What are you going to do?" "Just be easy, I'll tell you by and by. Call Biddy." Anna did so ; and Biddy soon stood before them. "Biddy," said the doctor. "I'm going out a few moments. Do you lock the door, and keep it locked, and don't you ad- mit any one while I am gone. No matter who comes ; do you understand? - "Yis, sir, but won't ye ate ye're dinner before ye go? It's ready, sir, this very minute." "No, no ; hang the dinner; that can wait. Now mind what I say. Don't you let any one come inside-of that door while I am gone." "Yes, sir, but 'tis too bad, the dinner'll be spoilt intirely." "Very well, let it spoil then, you and Anna can eat it." "Och I indade, sir, we'd never think of such a thing. I'll kape it warm till ye get back.' The doctor left-the house without farther remark, and strode away as fast possible for the purpose of seeking the office of the surrogate, and thus, by taking at ong.:Sthe proper steps, invest himself with due authority as the legal custodian of his ward. He was sorely perplexed, and did not know how to interpret the circumstances which had come to his knowledge, nor the story which the pawnbroker had related. True, the, story itself was plausible enough, there was nothing impossible in the reported re-appearance of the child's uncle. But why was there any mystery made of it? Why operate secretly? Why should any person come to 9 page: 194-195[View Page 194-195] 194 OLD HAUN THE PAWNBROKER. his (the doctor's) house, instead of applying to himself directly? How came it that an individual of so very ques- tionable character as the pawnbroker, should have been selected for the purpose of restoring her to her uncle? The story might be true, but it was at any rate surrounded by strange circumstances. All these things the doctor revolved in his mind on his way to the surrogate's office, where he determined, at any rate so far as he could, to fortify his right to the possession of the child. He found the officer disen- gaged, and stated to him the particulars of the case as far as necessary, and made application for the guardianship of Anna Hervey during her minority. "There is no proprty, I understand you to say?" re- marked the Surrogate. "An old Bible and a few trifles of no value, are all the poor child has left." "Very well, sir ; I will see that the appointment is pro- perly entered; that is all that is required of you." "Now is everything done?" inquired the doctor. "Yes." "So that no person can exercise any control over her contrary to my wishes, or without my consent?" "Certainly. But, doctor, what do you want of this child?" "I want her to love me. You have a wife and children. She's all that to me." "Well, you are the last one I should suspect of wanting either." TflHE VISIT AND -PLOT. 1 95 "Humph I I've lived sometime in the world without them at 'any rate,' said the doctor, as he left the office to return to his home. He felt safe, now; his mind was more at rest; he could sit down and eat his dinner in peace, and as he entered his house with a light step, and lighter heart, he called out: "Hallo, there, Anna, just come here. Do you know that you are mine,. now?" "Why, what do you mean?" "I mean that you are mine ; that I am bound to take care of you, and that you are bound to -live with me, and that no one can take you away. Do you hear that.?" "Yes, but I didn't want to go away. Where could I go? There's no one but you to take care of me." "Exactly; but you know this uncle that's just come to life after so many years, what, if he should come and want you to live with him?" "I don't think -he's a very good uncle, or he would have come before Mamma died. I wouldn't go ; I don't want to live with any one but you," said Anna, as she threw her arms around her guardian's neck, and kissed him affection- ately. "God bless you; there, promise me you will never leave the old doctor to live alone," said the doctor, as he returned the embrace. "No ; my mamma gave me to you. I don't want ever to live with any one else," Anna answered. "Would ye plase to ate ye're dinner? its gettin' could." page: 196-197[View Page 196-197] 196 OLD H AUN, T HE ?AWNBBOKER. interrupted Bidd y as she came into the room for the third time since the doctor's return. "Dinner ; certainly, we'll eat it at once, just as good cold as hot," the doctor replied, laughing at Bridget's anxiety. He now felt better satisfied, and thinking that he had sufficiently fortified the outworks, after thinking the matter. over, concluded that he would himself go and see Haun and ask an explanation. He saw the necessity of an immediate and full under- standing of the matter, and determined at whatever cost to have it before resting. With this purpose in his mind, he ate his meal, in excellent spirits, and determined on the morrow to seek a personal interview with the pawnbroker. TSBEATS OF BE-ENGE 197 l * l CHAPTER IX. THREATS AND VOWS OF REVENGE. * "YOUR name is Haun?" "It is, sir. Anything I can do for you?" "Humph I Do for me. Perhaps you don't know me." "Haven't that pleasure, sir," said Haun, in his most fasci- nating manner; at the same time industriously rubbing his hands together. "You haven't? ehl Well, my name is Foster, Benjamin Foster. Possibly you have heard the name before." "Can't say I ever did; but I've no doubt you are perfectly responsible." "Younmistake my business here. I have called to inquire whether you were at my house yesterday, and what your object was in calling?" "Ah I now I begin to understand; but there's no necessity of talking quite so loud, doctor. Come in and sit down, and I shall be glad to answer you." "( No, sir, my business will be quite as easily disposed of standing as sitting." "Very well, suit yourself." , page: 198-199[View Page 198-199] 198 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Now, sir, I've no time to spare, will you answer my question?" "Let me think-you inquired what I came to your house for?" "That was the question." "How do you know that I was there?" "The child that is placed under my charge, and that you seem to be somehow interested in, told me so." "So, she told you, did she? Well, perhaps, as- she told you that, she can answer your other question." "Do you deny that- you were there?" "Deny it I Why should I deny it? Is there any law against any man's entering a house in the middle of the day, when he's bidden?" "Do you pretend that you were bidden to enter my house in my absence? Then, if so, you are now forbidden ever showing your face inside of the door again. Humph! fine state of things, when a man's dwelling must be open to every rag-tag and bobtail that chooses to enter." "Don't be alarmed, sir. I shall have no occasion to visit you again; although, if I should wish to, I should probably come. But if you have nothing farther to say, I will leave you," said Haun, with perfect coolness. "Wait, sir," the doctor replied,with emphasis. "I have something farther to say. Tell me what your business was at my house?" "I thought I had mentioned that I called to see the little girl that's living with you." THREATS OF REVENGE. 199 "Yes, and what business had you there? what have you- to do with her?" "Now, sir, I'll tell you what business I had there, and why I went to see the child: I was sent by another." "Humph sent by another. Who sent you?" "One that has a better right to her than you have." "Man, will you speak? who sent you?" "Don't get excited, doctor, or I might take it into my head not to tell you anything farther;' but I will. I was' sent by her Uncle Leonard. Perhaps you didn't know that she has an uncle. She has, though," said Haun with a grin. " Where is he.? Tell me where he is,?Y Haun hesitated a moment, and then replied: "He's not here in the city, but not far away." "Impossible! .Villain, you lie--it's a damned lie.' It's some of your cursed trickery--it's all a scheme. Uncle I the same kind uncle that deserted his sister while living, and left her to die in poverty. Is this the uncle that is now so anxious to claim his niece? Why don't he come himself? Is he afraid to show himself among honest men, by daylight? Now, sir, go to him that hired you, and tell him-that he need send no more pimps to my house. The child remains with me, and under my roof until of her own free will and incli- nation she seek another home." "He'll come soon enough, let me tell you; and he'll have her, too." "Not while I livel" the doctor replied, emphatically. "And as for yourself, if I hear of your ever prowling around page: 200-201[View Page 200-201] 200 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. my house, or entering my door again, under any pretence whatever, I'll break every bone in your body, as sure as there's strength left me to do it." And so saying the doctor turned and left the pawnbroker's shop; leaving the worthy proprietor standing, dumb with passion, behind the counter. He strode rapidly along, without noticing friends or ac- quaintances whom he chanced to meet. Intent only on reaching a place where, undisturbed and unobserved, he might think over the events of the morning, and resolve upon the course to be taken by him in this emergency. To him the whole matter was now plain. He could not doubt. the truth of Haun's words, so far as they related to the uncle William Leonard, and to the fact of his being still living; for his relation of the circumstances, so far as it went, was consistent with the details of Mrs. Hervey's early history, and which he had no reason to doubt. The idea of Haun's having obtained such knowledge of the family surreptitiously did not once occur to him. He therefore supposed that Annals uncle, William Leonard, must be still living, and in communication with Haun, and that he had employed the latter to search out his relative, for the purpose, undoubtedly, of obtaining possession of her; and on such a hypothesis could also be explained Haun's object in searching for the girl, and in offering Mich a compensation for assisting in the search. He abandoned the idea of Haun's having any other inducement to prosecute his attempt. But why should not the uncle himself appear, and boldly claim her-was a question which he asked himself; but to THREATS OF REVENGE. 201 which there was no response. Why should he employ an agent, and, above all, such an agent? and why proceed so cautiously and secretly? Here, again, was a problem that he could not solve. The more he revolved the matter in his mind the more obscure it became to him; till, after working himself into a state of, nervous excitement, the doctor gave it up in despair, and resolved to wait until time should make all things plain. Still, he determined to keep watch; for he feared no means would be left untried by Haun, to- ac- complish his ends, and gain possession of the child, either by fair means or foul. He remembered the threat made by Haun, in his anger, and determined to thwart him. And, with these thoughts whirling through his mind, and having marked out the course to be taken, subject to the different contingencies that might occur-he left his office and took his way to his home. Arrived there he found Anna seated as usual by the window, and busily engaged with her needle. She looked up when Doctor Foster entered, and said: "Why, how you look, I don't believe you feel well, are you sick?" "No, no, child," he said, with a sigh of relief, "What have you come home for?, it's not meal time yet." "I know that, but I came home to talk to you. I want you to put away your work and listen to me ; I've something to tell you." "Why, what can it be?"Anna inquired curiously, as she approached the doctor. 9* page: 202-203[View Page 202-203] 202 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Anna, you know what that man that came to see you when I was away, told you?" "Yes, he said he knew my uncle." "Well; I have been to see him, and have talked with him, and he says that your uncle sent him to see you. Now you are not old enough to judge for yourself; but I don't believe from the little I have learned, that this uncle, wher- ever he may be, is the right kind of a man for you to live with; and more than that, you wouldn't want to leave me, would you?" "Oh, you know I would not leave you, I am your's, and I don't care if my uncle does come for me. I thought I should like to see him, because you know I heard mamma speak of him so often ; but if he is not a good man, then I don't want to see him at all." "But, Anna, listen; he says he will take you away from me and have you live with him, whether you want -to go or not." "Oh, don't let him take me. I won't go. What shall I do?" exclaimed Anna, in an agitated manner, and clinging to the doctor's arm. "No, Anna, he shall not take you ; your mother gave you to me, and the Surrogate has appointed me your guardian, and I have the control over you--so that he has no right to take you away from me, and cannot gRt you unless you have a mind yourself to go, when I don't know it; you wouldn't do that?" "How can you think it? you don't believe I would P' THREATS OF R E V E N G E . 203 "No I hope not. He might not come himself, but might send some one, perhaps the same bad man that was here yesterday, but you mustn't go with any one. He may try and coax, and say a great deal that isn't true-tell you of so many nice things that he'll give you, and of what he will do for you, and all that, but don't you believe a word he says. And one other thing, remember; I don't want you should go out alone to walk, always have Biddy go with you, and when the door bell rings, let Biddy answer it; don't yon go, for perhaps he will come again." "He said he would," Anna replied; ".but, doctor, why don't my uncle himself come?" "I do not know, Anna--that's what seems to me strange." "I think my uncle can't be a very kind uncle, or he wouldn't have gone off and left my mother as he did, so, after all, I don't care about seeing him." ".Well, it don't make much difference who or what he is ; he don't get you, that's settled." "I should be afraid to go with that man that came here, I was dreadfully afraid of him the first time I saw him, when Mich and I went to sell that locket, and, oh I did you get that?" "No I but never mind the locket now; call Biddy,- I want to speak to her." When Biddy entered, the doctor said: "Biddy, don't you let that man in the house again if he should call: mind 1 on no pretext, whatever." page: 204-205[View Page 204-205] 204 OLD HAUN) THE PAWNBROKER. "Sure it was Anna herself that let him in." "Well, Anna must not go to the door again. You answer the bell when it rings, and remember what I say, that man must not come inside of the house again." "Yes, sir, I will," Biddy answered, wonderingly. "And another thing, when Anna goes to walk you go with her, she must not go alone, understand?" "Indade I do, sir." "Well, that is all now, I must go back to my office again. Humph, afternoon 'most gone," said the doctor, looking at his watch. "What shall I bring you, Anna? a book? Yes, that's it, a pretty story book--good bye." Away he went with a lightened heart, thinking Anna's antipathy to the pawnbroker a sufficient safeguard against her being cajoled and enticed away by him. He therefore felt secure in his possession, and turned cheerfully to other duties. ' The pawnbroker had been, however, differently engaged. After the departure of Doctor Foster from his shop he remained in the same position, with his eyes fixed upon the retreating form of his late visitor, until it disappeared in the distance, while his face became livid with rage, and the muscles of his mouth moved spasmodically, giving him a hideous, ghastly look. Then with firmly closed lips he withdrew slowly and meditatively into his inner apartment; and sinking his head- upon his hands, as was his custom when deeply excited, sat in sullen thought: there was the recklessness of nncontrollable anger in his heart, and A fixed . THREATS OF REBVENGE. 205 determination in his manner. He vowed revenge--an in- tense hatred was now added to, or rather consumed, the pas- sion of avarice that had hitherto been almost the sole tenant of his bosom. He had been insulted, threatened--treated like a dog, and he would have revenge-revenge at any sacrifice. "He'll find out to his cost who he's dealing with," mut- tered Haun, as he clutched his right hand convulsively; "I'll have her from him if I die for it," he continued, and then for a moment relapsed into silence. "And that-- villain, Cornell, he'll find out that I'm not to be trifled with, after helping him to a fortune. But that's nothingi I'll have that child from him. But what'll I do with the little -- after I get her?-perhaps have to throttle her to put her out of the way, finally." Haun continued for a long time in meditation, occasion- ally breaking out into some exclamation of hatred, or some execration, as his thoughts reverted from Doctor Foster to Cornell; till having partly matured his plans, he became more tranquil, and having somewhat recovered his equanim- ity, started out and took his way again to Doctor Marsh's office. After walking up and down the street past the place several times, until he saw the doctor enter his office; he stepped up to Mich, as he was about driving off, and said: "Mich! I want to talk with you a little, wait a few minutes." "Well, be quick then, for I must be afther putting up the horse jist now." page: 206-207[View Page 206-207] 206 OLD HAUTN, THE PAWNBROKER. "You're a smart boy, Mich, you'll make your fortune 80011." "If it's to blarney me, ye'd have me wait, thin I'll be going. I know ye're thricks," Mich answered, as he took up the reins. "I'm not trying to blarney you, I've got something to say ; wait for a moment." "Well, then, what'll ye have of me?" "Not much, only that when you go to see your young friend again, I want you to stop at my shop,' as I've got something to send her." "Och I and is that all?" "Yes, will you?" "Well, I'll thry to remimber it," answered Mich, as he drove off, leaving Haun standing on the walk, muttering to himself: "I'm afraid I shan't be able to manage him." The fact that the pawnbroker had come so far and taken such trouble for the purpose of engaging Mich to do so small an errand, instead of procuring some person nearer, or going himself, rather excited Mich's suspicions, and so, after he had put up the -horse, he trudged along home, resolved to communicate his suspicions to his mother, and take her counsel in the premises. So as soon as he had reached home, and got seated, he related to his mother the whole matter, and also stated his suspicions, and asked her what he had better do. She advised him to communicate to Doctor Foster Haun's request, and to lay the whole mat- ter before him, and to be guided implicitly by his advice. THREATS OF REVEN E. 207 He determined to do so, and hurrying through with his evening meal, sought the residence of Doctor Foster. Mich found him fortunately at home, and related'the con- versation that had just taken place between him and the pawnbroker, and of his inquisition on his meeting of the latter a few days previously. "What did you tell him, Mich?" the doctor inquired, anxiously. "'Indade, sir, it's very little the wiser he is for what he's learned from me. He thried to find out a great many things about Anna, sir, but in faith I couldn't tell him any- thing, for the best rason in the world, I didn't know any- thing myself." "Well, that is right, so far; but, Mich, you must not mind what he says hereafter. He pretends that Anna's uncle has engaged him to recover her. Whether this is a mere pretence or not, I do not know, but no one can have her away from me. 'He's anxious to have -you help him. Don't you see that, Mich?" "In faith I'm of your, mind intirely, but I'd ate my own head before I'd help him. But why don't the uncle himself come thin to see her, or send to ye, instead of getting sich a dirty ould villain?" "True, it's no great recommendation for him to employ such a fellow; but I expect I shall have trouble with him yet." "The Lord save us I if I'd such an uncle I'd disown him, intirely, that's what I would." page: 208-209[View Page 208-209] 208 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Now, Mich, I believe I can trust you. I was afraid at first that I couldn't: I am satisfied now, but be careful what you do ; pretend to be on his side, and worm out of him all you can ; and then let me know everything at once, there must be no delay; there'll be no harm in it. We must circumvent him some way." "Why, doctor, would that be right?"Anna interrupted. "Can't help it child; we must turn his own weapons against himself," the doctor answered. "You need'nt be afraid of my leaving you. I could not love this uncle-I know I could'nt," said Anna. "Child, you know precious little of this world. Great deal he'd care whether you loved him or not, or whether you wanted to go or not." "L would'nt go any way." "I'm afraid he would'lt stop to ask you." "Why I what do you mean?" "Nothing, nothing, child. I shall frighten her to death some of these days," muttered the doctor. "But, Mich I you said that the old villain wanted you to stop at his shop, in order that you might take something from him to Anna. You have'nt been there yet, have you?" "No, sir ; I thought I'd spake with yerself first." "That's right, Mich I but I'd like to know what he's after, and if you can just as well go now as any time I wish you would." "Jist as well now as any time, and if ye wish it, Ill be off at once." TH REATS OF REVENGE. 209 "Right, Mich, go ; and perhaps I shall be at home when you come again." Mich seized his hat and dashing off, ran directly to Haun's shop, and entering in haste, said : "Now I'm here, sir, what 'll ye- have of me?" "You're rather late, it seems." "Ye don't suppose I'd be comin' widout me supper, do ye?" "So you think more of your supper than you do of your young friend, eh?" "Frind or no frind, I'm not yet so used to starvin' that I begin to like it." "Mich, how would you like to be rich and have as much as you can eat, and have a nice house to live in?" "How would I like it? Jist let me thry it first and then I'd be bether able to tell ye." "Well, Mic, -I'm going to tell you how you can earn enough to buy you a nice supper every night for a year,' if you'll do what I want you to." "Ah, ye'd intice a bird from its nest wid the flatthering tongue ye have. Now d'ye mane it sure?" said Mich, eagerly. "Certainly I mean it, and I'll do just what I say, if you only know enough to keep a close mouth, and do as I wish you to." "It's aisily done, no doubt," Mich answered. "Well, what do you say; it's an offer that you don't get often. Will you do it?" "Troth an' I will, thin, and thank ye into the bargain," Mich answered, with seeming enthusiasm. page: 210-211[View Page 210-211] 210 OLD HAUN5 THE PAWNBROKER. "Well, now mind what you're about, for if. you should tell any one what you learn from me, you'll wish you'd never been born," said Haun, savagely. "Never ye fear, it's not every day I get such an offer." "Well, then, if we succeed I'll give you what I promised." "Now what do you want of me?" "It's this, Mich: Your little friend Anna has an uncle, who has been trying for a great while to find her, so that he could take her to live with himself. He has just found out where she is, and wants to get her, of course. He's rich and can give her everything she wants, and make a, fine lady of her. But you see, Mich, this Doctor Foster pretends to have taken a fancy to her, but what he wants of her the Lord only knows ; at any rate he's determined to keep her away from her uncle ; her own blood relation, who lives down in New Orleans, or some other place down South, and so he can't come here himself, but he is a friend of mine and wants me to gqt his niece for him, which I mean to do. But this Foster won't let me have her nor see her if he knows it, and it was only yesterday that he came here to abuse me, because I called at his house to speak with her. There is something wrong about that man, Mich. But what I want of you is to help me get possession of the girl. She herself would be willing enough if it was'nt for'that doctor, and if we succeed I'll give you a part of what I shall get for my trouble-it'll be something handsome, Mich, I tell you., So if I can't get at the girl any other way, you must have her go out walking THREATS OF REVENGE. 2" with you, and then I can speak with her in the street-we're bound to make our fortune, Mich, an't we?" "I honestly belave it, sir," Mich answered, solemnly. "And then her uncle's rich, and no children either-not the shadow of .one. What luck there may be in store for her, think of that." "Faith, if I could belave it would come to that, wouldn't I thry to put her in the way of enjoyin' it?" "Well, Mich,- only do as I direct you, and it will all come out right." . "Never ye fear me; but whin would you like me to bring her wid me?" ( "Not just yet. I'll tell you when I'm ready. But, Mich, I fancy it would be as well for you when you see her again, to tell her about this uncle ; tell her how much he wants to see her after the many years he's been hunting for her, and how glad he is at having found her, and what a pleasant home she'll have when she goes to live with him, and how he'll give her everything she wants; but mind, Mich, that that old doctor don't hear you; that's all that you have to be afraid of, and don't let':her tell him either, or perhaps he'd shut her up, and not let her see you nor any body else again for a year or longer." "It's a cryin' shame to be after abusin' the poor innocent after that fashion, ain't it, sir?" "Of course it is," Haun answered, with a sad look and tone, while a gleam of pleasure shot for an instant from his eyes. f page: 212-213[View Page 212-213] 2V OLD SAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "But I'll blarney her till she'll think the moon is made of cheese, only ye see onct." "Here are some nice picture books, put them in your pocket, and give them to her when she's alone. Her uncle sent them to her." "I'll go and see her, now," Mich answered, as he received the articles. "Well, come around again after awhile,"' Haun cried out as Mich left the shop. Mich started off at a rapid pace until he had gone some distance, and then gradually relaxed his speed till he- almost stood still, while he muttered to himself: "An' is this yer own self, Mich Lynch, to be listenin' to the ould rascal--fa'th but he's an oncommon one-the wicked thafe, but I'll tell the docthor every word of it." After having communed with himself in this wise, he darted off, and soon arrived at the residence of the doctor, whom he found impatiently waiting his return. Anna was in the room, and Mich hesitated about making his commu- nication before her; for, from what he had observed, he concluded that the doctor did not wish her to become cognizant of his fears and suspicions. Therefore Mich said, earnestly : "I've got a word to spake to ye, docthor, as soon as I've given Anna the beautiful things her uncle sent her by me." "She don't want anything from her uncle ; I'm her uncle and her father too, and she don't want any other," ex- THREATS O REVENG E, -3 claimed the doctor, impetuously, as -he started up with the intention of taking the articles from Mich's hand. "Burn them, Mich; don't touch them, Ann-a , Just what I thought," he continued, as he observed that Anna had already received them, "Oh, don't burn it i" she exclaimed, entreatingly. "Well, keep them, Ithen, but, Mich, don't you bring anything more here from him, I won't have it. By- the way, what was it, Mich, you were going to say. Anna, you run down and see Biddy a little while, I want to talk with Mich." "Oh, I know what you want me to go and see Biddy for, so I shan't hear what Mich tells you, and you are going to talk about me, I know you are," said Anna. "'Get along with you; your curiosity will be the death of you," replied the doctor, laughing. "'Now, Mich," he continued, as Anna disappeared "What is the game?" out with it." Mich, then, -related to the doctor all that had occurred in his interview with Haun. "Did he -say that, Mich?" "Upon me word he did, sir. He thinks -hell have her soon, in spite of ye ; so ye'd needs look sharp ;after him." "Oh, if I only had him here this very/inute," exclaimed the doctor, through his Closed teeth; "but his time will come," he added: "Ochl DQcthor, ye'ln spoil-it all if ye let on that I've told ye. Don't be afther doing that" page: 214-215[View Page 214-215] 214 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "No, no, Mich, I don't mean that; but I can't stand it. He's got some evil design. I must watch him and thwart him. I do believe he means to get possession of her at once, in some way," exclaimed the doctor, in an excited manner. "Don't ye b'lave that her uncle sint for her thin at all, Docthor 7" "I don't know what to think of Hann or her uncle. I don't care whether he did or not. But I'll find out all about this uncle first, before I yield her to him. He said New Orleans, did he? You're sure of that? He may be acquainted with her uncle--that's possible! and if so, un- doubtedly expects to make money by delivering her to him. By jovel I believe that's it; and that would account for his knowledge of family matters. Look sharp, Mich, and we'll ferret out the old rat. You shall be well paid for your trouble, Mich." "Paid 1 indade, sir, it's not for pay that I'd serve a friend." "Well, well, Mich, that is right. Now what shall we do? Let me think. I'll tell you what: just trail him along for a while, till I get something arranged, and we'll catch him on his own hook. Mind that he don't mistrust anything. Let him imagine that Anna is pleased with the idea of- see- ing her uncle, and is ready to go with him after a few days. But, Mich, keep your wits about you. Try and find out exactly what course he intends to, or wishes to take, and then let me know. This trickery is poor business, Mich, I own, and I'm ashamed of it; but it can't be avoided." THREATS OF REVENGEW. ' 215 "No great harm in decavin' him; but 11 mind and kape out of his way afther he finds out I've been tellin' ye."' - "Yes, I suppose you better, for he's a desperate man, and will stop at nothing. But I think we'll foil him this time. Anna mustn't go out of the house alone, until this matter is- settled some way. Poor thing, it's a pity to have to shut her up on his account." "Indade it is that." "Well, good night, Mich; it's time you were home with your mother. Good hours make good men-remember that Mich. Never knew a boy that spent his time in the streets amount to anything." "Yes, sir, I'll go now, for she'll be lookin' for me." Mich left the house, and the doctor commenced a march and coun- ter march up and down the room, while he thought over the events of the past day. After a while a-door opened softly, and Anna's face ap- peared. "May I come in now?" she asked. "Why, child, are you up yet? I thought you were in bed long ago." ( You: told me" to go and stay with Biddy. Where is Mfich? Has he gone?" "Mich gonel why, yes, long ago; and it's time you were, too. So come and kiss me, good night." Anna. did as she was desired, and then retired quietly to ; page: 216-217[View Page 216-217] 216 OLD HAUN, TH BROKB . her own room; and long after her head had sought its pillow she listened to the regular tramp of the doctor, as he paced to and fro in the adjoining room, meditating upon the past, and resolving upon the future. XMYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANOE . 217 CHAPTER X. THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. HAUNTS letter to Cornell, with the threat conveyed in the same, had a greater and more immediate effect than had been perhaps, even hoped for by the writer. It found Cor- nell, as usual,wholly given up to his own pleasures and amusements, and rioting in dissipation. But it arrested him midway in his giddy routine. A shadow fell upon his spirits. He withdrew for a while from his gay associates, to meditate upon the course to be taken. He stood in fear of Haun, who with his iron nerve and invincible determination, had exercised tacitly, but with certainty that control over him, which a strong will always obtains over a weaker one. While distance separated him, this feeling was subdued, but, with the prospect of meeting Haun again, the repugnance and dread revived. Guilt had made him timid, and instead of being able to meet his coadjutor in his usual brusque and fearless manner, he dreaded the encounter and shrank from it. He did not doubt the truth of Haun's assertion and therefore felt himself in his power. He resolved to answer the letter, and retrieve his error as 10 page: 218-219[View Page 218-219] 218 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. far as possible, by an offer of prompt amends and a full compliance with the demands of Hauu. He hoped by this means to conciliate, and hoped that Haun would still be induced to keep faith with him. True, it was not by any means so easy at that time, as it had been a few months pre- viously to spare the amount required, but now necessity drove, and necessity does not consult men's convenience. He wrote offering to accede to Haun's demand, and des- patched the letter, he then began to breathe more freely, and the shadows were lifted from his spirits. But his gratifica- tion on disposing of the matter was brief, for hardly a day had elapsed after mailing his letter, before he received another communication following closely upon the other. Cornell opened it nervously, and read with a sinking heart. "NEW YORK, orJe ito, 18- 1"Mr. James Cornell:- "DEAR SIR :--Since sending my last, I have reconsidered the matter, and withdraw my claim upon you, as I find there is another heir to the estate, living, who will establish her legal right, as soon as pos- sible, and I should not wish you to appropriate the property of others to the payment of your own debts. I have been appointed guardian of Anna Hervey, the legal heir, and as such, am ready to receive all monies and property to which by virtue of her heirship she is entitled. You may retain, until I see you, which I hope will be soon, all papers and title deeds relating to the estate. But, on my arrival, you will be prepared to deliver to me all the property in your possession. If you do this peaceably and without delay, I shall not insist upon your refuding the trifing sum tha, you may already have used, but [tnot, MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARa N 219 then you will oblige me to claim restitution of everything a als to purue such other remedy as the law may provide. I ha wait to hear from you. shall wait to "Yours, etc., "GACdtos HATO." Having finished reading the letter, Cornell laid it down in silence--at a loss what course totae-he saw it was to late now to retrace his stes--he s sgrace before him. He heard the Sneers of his acquaintances the afeted sym- pathy of his f afenected dissolute companions, -haverted looks and desertion of his isltheir C pnions, when he could no longer minister to their enjoyments-'and himself, as a pauper, turned into the street, homeless Mr, "' "^"t h street, homeless, friendless, despised, deserted. Ik looked into the future, and saw himself asin aglass. Life became a burthen. Sleeping or ang, the cadaverous isge- elfin loks, and piercig ee of a were before him. se grew morose and dispirited, bt finall, with the re cklessness of despair, determined to enjo te present as long as' he could, and await the issue. He plunged anew into dissip- tion, and defied Haun's - araiiaga and his threats. In the meantime, taun in New York, was impatiently awaiting an answer to his last cmmunication. But none came, this he was disappointed e ha d relied with much confidence relied With * onfidec u pon the efect of his letter, and intended to avail himself ofevery advantage.,- But the matter had been pshed farther thaLn intended--the efect upon Crne was'differerect uponn thOrnell s different from that anticipated. It wa Hatun's design to frighten orne into an immedit paymnt o t h bo, Odaepayment Of the bond, page: 220-221[View Page 220-221] 220 OLD HAT N, THE PAWNBROKE-R. or perhaps to coerce him into disgorging a large share, and he thought Cornell in his anxiety would have replied at once, offering to compromise on almost any terms. But he did not thoroughly understand Cornell's disposition or tem- per, nor imagine that driven to despair, he had become reckless and indifferent to the result. It is uncertain whether Haun had at this time really con- ceived the definite idea of going to New Orleans, and of leav- ing his business unattended to, or whether, although the idea had been flitting through his scheming brain, he had not suddenly seized the determination of carrying out in full, the intentions and threats expressed in his letter to Cornell. Be this as it may, on Mich's making his next visit to his worthy patron, Haun said to him, carelessly, "By the bye, I wonder if that southern mail is in yet, I'm expecting a letter-run, Mich, and see if there's one for me. Come I you must begin to make yourself useful." Although surprised at the request, Mich did not hesitate, but hastened to the post office and returned with a letter. Before delivering it he noted in his memory the post mark-it was from New Orleans, and was the same letter written by Cornell in answer to the first of Haun's of May the 15th-and which had been by some means delayed until now. Mich deliver- ed the letter to Hann, and closely watched him as he read to himself and commented aloud. "I thought it would bring him to his senses," he continued, " but his offer comes too late-wants me to take the husk and give him the grain. I've worked too hard for that. Supposing I were- really to MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEBAANCE. 221 godown there," he said meditatively, "I will-I'll do it as soon as I can arrange that other matter. I'd go to-morrow if I could. What are you staring at?" he exclaimed, look- ing up suddenly at Mich, who unconsciously stood with open mouth, in his anxiety to catch every word uttered by Haun, and forgetting, for a moment, the necessity for dis- simulation in the part he was playing. "I say, what are you staring at? Can't I read a love letter without being looked out of countenance?" Mich's fixed and eager expression instantly vanished, and he. answered, carelessly: "Perhaps ye're afraid I'll read yer letther from lookin' at the outside; I've niver learned that yet." "Well, then, don't stand there gaping at me; but it's about time for you to begin to do something, as you agreed; now, you'd better be lively, or you won't earn that money When are you going to bring that girl to me, eh ?" Mich stood for a-moment undecided, and then answered: "in what if she'd not go wid any one but the Doethor himself?", "Does she go to walk with him?" "To be sure she does." "When do they go?" "As often as iver they can ; the Doethor say the poor crathur must have a taste jof the fesh air now and thin." "He does, eh ? quite right, no doubt." "Now, wid yer lave," said Mich, "I'll go, and m aybe Il find out something that'll plase ye." page: 222-223[View Page 222-223] 222 OLD HA &UN THE PAWNBROKER. "Well, see that you do, or our reckoning 'll be a short one," Haun replied. Mich did not stop to hear anything farther, but, went directly to the office of Doctor Foster, and communicated to him all that occurred at his last interview. The Doctor was now really alarmed for the safety of his adopted child. From what he had learned of the receipt of the letter by Haun, its source, and the latter's expressions in reading it, he felt sure that the crisis was approaching. It seemed to him, that there must be some great incentive operating upon her uncle, besides the mere influence of affection, to induce him so ardently to seek possession of the person of his niece. After a moment's reflection, the doctor said: "Well, Mich, something must be done at once. It's now time to act. I must get advice about this. I'm sorry you told him about our going out to walk, as he might lie in wait for us; but, pshaw I he'd never dare to attempt taking her away from me by force. But I can't stop to talk now, Mich. I'll -go and see Pierce ; he's an old friend and a pretty shrewd lawyer too; he'll understand at once, what's best to be done." So saying, the doctor left and went directly to con- sult with Mr. Pierce, an attorney, with whom he had long been on terms of intimacy, and who, in those days, took a rank among the first lawyers of the city. Mr. Pierce re- ceived him very cordially, and listened with marked atten- tion to the doctor's relation of the particulars of the affair, and on his concluding, remarked, interrogatively: MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARA (OE. 223 "You fear, then, doctor, that the child- will be taken from you?" ' "The old villain says he is going to get her, any way." "Who is this boy, Mich? perhaps he deceives you instead of the' other party." "No, Mich is reliable." "How do you know that this uncle is living in New Orleans?" "I have no positive knowledge any further than I have mentioned. ,I might write to him and by that means learn something further. Had I better?" "No, that might spoil all. I believe, from what you say, that there is something mysterious in the matter; it may be all right, and it may be not. If you wish it, I will find out what it means." Well, Pierce, go on and rid me of this Haun's interfer. once. Sift the matter thoroughly. If you could manage to get Haun in the States' Prison, so much the better. Now, what have I to do?"' "Nothing at all, only to keep quiet, and watch carefully the child, so as to ward off any attempt he might make to get her, while I write to a lawyer in New Orleans. Now, give me the names of all the parties," said Mr. Pierce, taking pen and paper. , "Well, whose first?" "Begin with the uncle." "His name was William Leonard." "What occupation?" page: 224-225[View Page 224-225] g2Z OLD HAUN, 'T'fC a A W N KUW i J . "He was a captain of a vessel, and sailed from the port of Boston the last time anything was heard of him." "Good, so far. I will write and have inquiries made for a person bearing the name of William Leonard, formerly a sea-faring man, and request an answer at once, and also desire the agent, whom I shall employ for the purpose, to proceed cautiously and expeditiously." "But shall I leave Haun unmolested? Hadn't I better have the old villain arrested?" "For what offence? He ought, without doubt, to be indicted upon general principles, but our law is unfortu- nately so defective, that it will not arrest except upon some well-grounded charge." "But I am afraid he will try to steal her. I cannot wait until you hear from New Orleans. I'd like to take the law into my own hands; I'd give him what he's never had yet- justice." "Don't be impatient, doctor; I can't believe there's any such great urgency in the case. For this Haun is altogether too cunning to overdrive the matter, or to let you catch him in his tricks. He has done nothing, that I am aware of, to bring him within reach of the law; and, of course, you will be on your guard to check any unlawful attempt on his part," answered the attorney. "Well, then, I'll go home ; but I shall not be able to rest so long as he remains at liberty," the doctor re- plied. "By the way, doctor, before you leave, the names of the MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANOE. 225 other-parties, I might as well write them down now, while we are on the subject," said Mr. Pierce, detaining him. The doctor stopped to give the names, and then pro- ceeded at a brisk pace home, determined that Anna should not, for another day, be left exposed to the risk of suffering from Haun's machinations. He would take her into the country, and leave her with a friend, until the matter was in some way definitely disposed of, so that they might all of them be relieved from the dread of some impending evil, but what, they knew not. It would do her good. It would bring the roses back to her pale cheeks to run about in the green fields, and breathe the pure air of the country. So reasoned the doctor, and decided in his own mind that she should go at once. She should start to-morrow, and nobody but himself should know her destination. With his thoughts intent upon this subject, he entered his house and went directly to the sitting-room. There was no one there. He passed through to the adjoining room and- called, but re- ceived no answer. He decended into the kitchen, it was vacant. He called again, but in vain, all Was silent. The ' outer doors were closed, and he thought, possibly, Anna might have retired for the night., He opened the door of her sleeping-room, and said: "Annagone to bed? asleep already?"He approached the bed, listening for her breathing, but no sound met his ear, all was hushed. His heart sank, he caught a lamp from. the mantel and re turned to Anna's room- theed: was: unruffled.' There ws noone ther e cold ... . .ot 10* - '* *"' . I , page: 226-227[View Page 226-227] 226 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. on his forehead as he cast his eyes around, and 'exclaimed: "Where have they gone? this is strange, nine o'clock and they out, what can it mean? Biddy knows better, and besides, I told her not to be out with Anna. I'll fix her- but they must be along soon." The doctor sat down for a few minutes, and then got up, and shading his eyes with his hand, tried to pierce the darkness beyond, as he gazed out of the window. He turned away, and sat down again with his eyes fixed upon the clock, that ticked unconsciously upon the mantel. The hand was moving on towards the hour of ten. He rose again and went to the door and looked up and down the street, and then seizing his hat exclaimed: "There's something happened to them or they'd never stay out till this hour. I'll see Mich, perhaps he'll know," and so saying, he hurried into the street. The distance to the abode of Mich was considerable, but it seemed now to the doctor in his impatience almost interminable. And even after reaching the house, it was some time before he succeed- ed in arousing any one--for Mich was just dreaming his first dream. But what was his astonishment and alarm on learn- ing who was the visitor, and what had brought him there at that hour-and at hearing the doctor's hurried question. "Mich, have you seen AnnaL and Biddy?" "Seen thim I are they gone?" "I can't find them, they're not at home." "He's done it thin, the ould Satan's done it-and ye'll niver see her again-och hone, why didn't I watch him?" "Dres yourself, Mich and follow me, said the doctor. MYSTERIOUS DIs APPIcM,< Is 297 M Y 8 T E I O 8 I)I 8 A?P E A X A N O E. 227 Mich was soon ready and inquired, " what'll I do?" "Come with me." Mich followed in silence the long and rapid strides of the doctor, as he hurried away to the police station for the pur- pose of giving a description of the missing persons, and of directing an immediate search. He offered a large reward to the one that should discover them that night. The police were immediately on the alert, and those who happen- ed then to be there, dispersed at once in different directions on their search, returning now and then to confer with each other, or to obtain further information, or directions. The night wore on, and still nothing could be learned. The doctor remained as long as there was a possibility of obtain- ing a knowledge of them, and then unwillingly and sadly took his way home, He entered, and the noise of the closing door echoed through the- now deserted house, and sent a pang to his heart. The solitary light still flickered as he had left it-none had entered since. He sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands. The'bright gleam of sun- shine that had for a brief time lifted the shadows from his solitary life, had faded, and it was again darkened. The night wore on, and still he sat-the clicking of the clock alone disturbing the monotonous stillness that reigned within-while without, some unusual noise would cause the watcher to start up and listen intently as if expect- ing, or at least hoping, that some tidings might still be brought him-but in vain. The morning dawned, and then the doctor rose, and throwing himself upon his bed, exhaust. ^' S I page: 228-229[View Page 228-229] 228 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. ed nature could no longer resist, and he sank into a disturb- ed and fitful slumber. The morning was well advanced be- fore he awoke, so worn out was he with the mental struggle. Starting up, the occurrences of the past few hours came back to his mind. Without stopping for refreshment, he seized his hat, and with rapid steps resought the office of his inti- mate friend, the attorney, whom he fortunately found disen- gaged. The latter saw at once from the haggard and care- worn look of his client, that something unusual had occurred. He therefore advanced at once to meet the doctor as he entered, and taking him by the hand said: "' Well, doctor, I hope nothing unpleasant has occurred to oblige you to seek my services this morning?" "Yes, what I feared, and ought to have guarded against, has happened-the child is gone," the doctor answered, with choked utterance. "You can't mean that that fellow, what's his name, has dared to-to---" "Steal her, there's no doubt of it." "When did you miss her?" "Last evening when I went home, both she and my ser- vant were away. I was not particularly alarmed until it grew late in the evening, and then I began to fear. I gave notice at the station-house, but the police have found out nothing as yet." "Have you no clue? nothing to show where or when they left 7" "Nothing at all, I know nothing more than I have MYTrEIO s D "-8"APRh ARAa... a29 already related. 'Suspecting that villain Haun, I had the police watch his shop last night. The shop was closed and he was not there, neither has he returned to it since then, but I am sure he has not yet left the city." "Strange!" ejaculated the attorney. "And now," continued the doctor,. " if there is any law that can help me in this emergency, let me know it, for I shallsnot rest till I have found the child." "I think you said you had been legally appointed guar- dian, did you not, doctor V" "Certainly." "And she has lived in your family, and you have supplied her with clothing, is not that so?" "Yes, yes," the doctor answered, impatiently. H" ow old is she?" "As nearly as I can recollect-ten years old." "My advice to you then is this-of course, the first and most important thing, is to get possession of the child-to acomplish this, we must make application and obtain a writ of habeas corpus, and put it into the hands of the sheriff to serve, which will if he can find her, give you at any rate the temporary custody of her. In the second place as we want to punish this man, Haun-and proeeding uon the s position that he has taken her, I should advise you,under the present state of our law, to go before a m agistrate and make affidavit of the larceny of the clothes which the child had on when she was taken, and which were and are your property, by this m eans we will obtain a warrant ag ai^ t ?, page: 230-231[View Page 230-231] 230 OLD RA UN THE PAWNBROKER. his body at once, and then if we can only get hold of him we'll take further steps for his punishment. Rely upon my assistance, doctor, until the whole matter is disposed of. It is near twelve o'clock already. It'll take us a couple of hours, perhaps, to get the writ and put it in the hands of the officer for service. By the by, doctor, supposing the fellow has really kidnapped the child, where do you imagine he would take her to? I think you mentioned the other day." "To New Orleans I have reason to believe." But, supposing him to have an object in getting possession of the child, why should he want the servant? you said she had disappeared also." "Yes t she's not to be found, but I can't imagine what he could want of her." "It's possible after all, doctor, that "That what?" "You haven't been at your house since you left it this morning, have you?" "No, but I am satisfied that she's been detained by force, or she would have been home last evening." "Has the servant no friends or relations in the city that she's in the habit of visiting, and with whom she might have stayed over night?" "Not that I know of." "Well, then, doctor, I would suggest as a mere measure of precaution, that while I am preparing the necessary papers, you step down to the office and inquire whent a boat hfYSTER!O1 s DIsT Pp aRANq. 231 Will leave for the South, and it migt be well on your return to call again at your house and find whether anything new has turned up during the morning, then me back and I'llew be at your service." and "Right I I'll do it, said thedotor, leaving. Hewent to the ofice for the purpose of learning the hour of departure f the boat and foud there would be ne on that very evening. He ten returned, calling at his own house on the way---as he approached some person seemed to him to be sittingon the step. e looked again-could he b e mistaken --he came nearer-it was Biddy who sat leaning her head tpon her hand, unconscious of the approach of a one till the doctor addressed her. "Biddy is that you ? where is Anna?" "Och I docthor, I'm kilt intirel," she excIimed, start- /ng up, me head's split open , and ivery bone in me bod broen. Och, dcthor, I'm afraid he'sgot h but its not "Who and where, speak quick , the doctor exclaimed, seizing her by the arm. ed "The ould one that came to see her -when y e w ere so angry about it. He met us n the strate, nd knoce d me down an d sazed h er, a d I don t an ked e that, Bridget answ ered , sobb ing. more afther "What I was afraid of , and where hav e y ou b een a of this time VI You been all of d "'s hard t illin sir . I w as t aken up clean out o, me inses till this m ornin wid this blow on the side o my head, page: 232-233[View Page 232-233] and I'm jist able to get home ; och I but I'm afraid the dear child's gone intirely-but it's not me fault, docthor." "Well I I'll help you into the house, and then I must go, we'll have him yet," said the doctor, as he assisted Biddy into the house, and made a slight examination of her wounds, which he found not to be of a dangerous character. Having done this, he departed for the office of the attorney. He found him temporarily absent, but as he was momentarily expected, the doctor paced uneasily up and down the room, until his arrival Mr. Pierce entered, saying, "Well, doctor, any tidings?" "No, except that my suspicions are confirmed. She is in the hands of that infernal villain. On going to my house, j I found my servant sitting on the steps, and somewhat seriously injured by a blow on the head. From her I learn that as she was out walking in the city last evening with Anna, she was knocked down so suddenly that she was unable to observe from whom the blow came, and was left i insensible. She was picked up and taken care of by some j one till this morning, when she was partially restored, suffi- j oiently to walk home. She can give no farther particu- I lars." "It is so then ; but the day of reckoning will come. Now I have everything in readiness. The sheriff himself 'll be ready to go in a short time. He wanted to send one of his deputies, but I declined his aid at once-there must be no meats, and on your return we will be readyf" "No, I need nothing, I can't eat until she's found." "But you absolately must, doctor; you look as haggard as if you had beenengaged in this ffair a week instead of a day, and as it may so happen that we shal require all the strength that we can muster, I need not advise you of the ' necessity of fortifying the body with proper nourishment.' "Well, I will go, since I can do nothing further here Nor the present.", He was absent about a half an hour, and then returning net the attorney, and going together to the serifls office, ound that functionary armed with the necessary legal uthority to reclaim the child, and to arreat Haun, and im- atiently awaiting their arrival. "Now, gentlemen," he remarked, as they entered, "we ust proceed in this matter cautiously and expeditiously. I aderstand from you that he has not yet probably left the ty. Has he a dwelling house here? "None other than his place of business or shop on iatham street," the attorney replied. "Has that been searched ?" "No, we had no authority to break the doors which are rred and locked, but I understand from my friend. the otor here-that the premises have been closely wathed, that it is certain there has been neither ingress or ' Would he probably remain there concealed?" I think not, he's too cunning for that." 'Very likely I still it would be unwise to leave it a- page: 234-235[View Page 234-235] 234 OLD A. UX, TlE p AW NB OKERE searched. So we'll go there first and demand admittance, and if necessary force an entrance." "Well, let us go then at once," said the doctor, who had been uneasily waiting for the termination of the conference. "Come on, then," the sheriff replied. They then went directly to lHaun's shop, which was at no great distance off, and found it carefully closed. They called out for admittance but received no answer. The sheriff then ordered the door to be forced. This was a work of some difficulty, for it was strongly barred and bolted, but on the application of their united strength, the fastenings gave way and an entrance was affected. The shop was vacant. Vigilant search was made throughout the premises, but neither man nor child was found. Everything else wore its accustomed appearance. Goods of every description were scattered promiscuously about, but, upon close examina- tion, it was found that books, memorandums, bills, and money, and other smaller articles of intrinsic value, had been removed--as soon as this was found to be the case, the doc- tor exclaimed: "He's off, and we must follow at once or be too late." , Where does the boat lie?" inquired the sheriff. "WI don't exactly know the street, but we'll follow the dock around, and easily find it." "K eep up good heart, then, doctor, we'll find her if shes in the city." Away they went, passing vessel after vessel, in their round, but unwilling to make inquiries for fear of exciting supi- MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARAN63E. 235 cion, and not knowing who might be in the interest of the fugitive --or who might be placed as a spy to warn him of approaching danger. As they were hurrying on, scrutiniz- ing closely each craft that loomed up through the darkness, the doctor felt a tug at his coat-turning quickly, he could just recognize the form of Mich, who stood panting for breath. He pointed with his finger to a- boat that lay a chort distance from them, and articulated with dificulty. "Theyre there." "Nonsense, boy, that can't be-that an't the southern boat," said the officer. "I've seen them wid me own eyes," said Mich, earnestly, "they're there." "Come along, then, and show us," said the doctor. They at once proceeded to the boat indicated by Mich, and were about to rush on board when one of the boat's crew, whom they had not before perceived; approached, and standing before them so as to obstruct their farther progress, said gruffly: - "What do you want here? be off," at the same time lay- ing his hand upon the doctor's shoulder, and pushing him back. "Hands off-you rascal," exclaimed the doctor, as he shoved the man vigorously aside, and rushed past him. The man was about to return the favor with a blow, when the sheriff said quickly: "Hold, there, my friend, not too fast,-I'm the sheriff." The man's hand dropped and he asked : page: 236-237[View Page 236-237] "Well, what do you want then?" "There's a man and child secreted here, and we have come to search for them-they must be delivered up." "I knows nothing about any one but the boat's crew, and they're below." "Then show us the way." "D-n my eyes if I do; I takes my orders from the mate." "Come on, then, doctor, we'll find them first and settle with this gentlemnn afterwards," remarked the sheriff, going towards the hatchway. But the -sound of voices had called up the mate, who, discerning the forms of the three intruders, demanded : "What's in the wind, Ben?" "Why, here's some one as says we've stowed away a man and a child in the hold and he wants 'em.' "You're boarding the wrong craft-there an't no such freight aboard." "Very likely, but they may be here without your know- ing it." "Who is it then?" "We're looking for an old man and a child, and they were seen to come on to this boat," the sheriff answered, !" and we want to look for them." "Ben, I'll take your watch while you go with them and let them look." "I say they an't here-I haven't left since my watch began, and they couldn't have passed me!' KYT8TifctOTUB D iAPPA?PE. 237 "Well I we'll look for ourselves,"' the sheriff answered, as they commenced decending- into the lower part of the vessel-and MAich advanced with the intention of following and assisting in the search, when his Arm was rudely seized by the man called Ben. "You an't the sheriff, any way, so , avast there n "Let him alone," exclaimed the doctor, authoritatively, turning as he heard the remark, "he saw-them come on board, and well soon have them if they're here. Come on, Mich." Descending, they at once commenced their search, examining thoroughly every corner of the vessel from stem to stern. 'Looking under berths, beds, lounges, tables, and every other thing that could by any possibility afford con- cealment to a living thiug-turning over old rubbish, boat stores, piles of rope, heaps of canvas, searching through cabin, hold, and store-room, but in vahi, nothing was found, and- they turned sorrowfully away from their task, and sat down for a moment to wipe the pterspration from their foreheads, and consult as to the next step to be taken. The man, Ben, had officiously assisted them in their seareh, notwithstanding his first opposition, andapparent incredulity, and had r emained lose to them, endeavoring as far as pos sible withoat exciting sspiliou, to diret their coarse. He remarked as they seated themselve, while a look of maliious gratification flashed Over his features: "Mabee yuill believe what I tells you another time." "No I shan't, any more than I believe yo-n now," exlaim. ed the doctor. - )! ' page: 238-239[View Page 238-239] "Then why don't you pipe all hands to duty again?" said he. The doctor observed the peculiar expression of the man's face, and was satisfied in his own mind that the fellow knew more than he would wish to disclose-he communicated his suspicions to the sheriff, and the latter again addressed Mich, saying: "Boy, are you sure you Saw him come on board of this boat?" "Indade, an' I am sure of it; it's out of that old cellar on the dock that I saw him come about duskl this very eve- ning, and I wint .to find the docthor, but he had gone, and thin I came back here again as fast as iver I could, and here by good luck I found ye." "He may have left since then," the sheriff remarked. "Don't ye belave it--he's here yet. I saw this very man spakin' wid the dirthy ould villain," added Mich, as he point- ed to Ben. "It's a lie 1"Ben yelled out, as he made a blow with his open hand at the head of Mich, but the latter avoided the stroke by stepping nimbly backt as he answered : "It's the truth-the blissed truth-and ye know it, too." "You're right, Mich ; they're here, and I'm going to find them. Come along-bring that light." "You'll stay there," said the sheriff to Ben, as he ad- vanced again, with the intention of accompanying them- "not a step nearer." Ben stood doggedly looking after them, but made no reply. MT8TERIOUB8. DI 8A PPABAN CE. 239 "Doctor, I don't believe there'o any use in looking again ; we've searched every spot where a mouse could hide; but so long as you remain, I'm with you," the sheriff remarked. They cormmenced again their search, and as they passed into the different parts of the vessel, the doctor called out the name of Anna, and listened for an answer, but in vain. They began to despair. They had gone through most of the vessel, and were preparing to abandon the search, and leave the boat, when the doctor, as a last experiment, again called out loudly Anna's name, A stifled cry seemed to reach his ear. He shouted again, and listened, but all was still. He shouted once more, and again the same subdued sound was heard. It seemed to proceed from the store-room, the door of which was now closed. "She's there," said Mich, as he rushed to the door, but found itlocked. The otherspressed forward simultaneously, and tried to open it, but in vain. Without another word, the doctor drew back and threw his muscular frame with great force against the door: the fasten. ings gave way, and the door crashed to the floor. As it fell, a form darted past them from within, and the wiry locks of Haun streamed behind him as he bounded past them towards the gangway. The sheriff sprang after him as he mounted the stairs, crying, "Catch him I Stop himn .l Thiere he goes i" several of the craw joining-in the-chase and the cry ;- but the fugitive had got too muchthe start before they f recovered from their surprise, and as his pursuers reached the top of the hatches, they saw him leap from the boat on to the dock, and he was irmmediately lost in the darkness, so *1 '.' page: 240-241[View Page 240-241] 240 OLD HAUNX, THE PAWNBROKER. that further pursuit was impossible. On the opening of the door of the store-room, the doctor had immediately entered, calling: "Ann, Anna-are you here?" He heard a low sob, but the darkness prevented his dis- cerning any object, as the light had been extinguished in the excitement of the chase. He called again, and groped about, directed by the sound, till his hand rested upon a pile of canvas, in one corner. He felt it sway under his touch, and quickly tearing away the remnant of an old sail that con- cealed her, clasped Anna in his arms. He shouted for a light, and the sheriff came running in, exclaiming, "Have you found her? Is the girl here?" "Yes I A light, quick I Have you caught him?" "No, he has escaped us this time." "There, my poor Anna, can't you speak?" asked the doctor, noticing her silence. On passing his hand over her face, he found that she had been gagged by having a pocket- handkerchief tightly tied over her mouth. Her hands were also bound. The light appeared, and the doctor taking his knife, quickly severed the fastenings, while he again hugged her slender form tightly to himself. "Poor thing, poor thing ; are you hurt, child?" Anna could not answer, but putting her arm around his neck, wept convulsively. Mich now for the first time approached, and taking one of her hands gently in his own, whispered, with quivering lip: Anna, darlint, don't cry, ye're safe now." MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANcE. 241 "Oh, Mioh!" said Anna, still sobbing. "Thank God you're safe," exclaimed the doctor, after he had sufficiently controlled his emotions to be able to artieu. late. "How did it happen?" "Oh, Biddy I Biddy," she exclaimed, starting up. "Be quiet, she is safe at home," the doctor said . "They knocked her down, and I thought she was killed, and then they brought me here." "'Where were you?" the doctor asked. "We were almost at your office." "Where were you going?" "Didn't you send for us?"Anna inquired, in amaze- ment. "' Send for you? no 1 that villain I it's his work. Couldn't you see which way he went?" "No," the sheriff answered, "but here is something he has left. His coat-we'll take possession of it. He won't show his face here again, very soon." "Shall we go now?" inquired the doctor. "Yesi as soon as I can get my hands on that fellow, Ben -he seems to have had as much to do with the matter as any one, I think I ought to have him arrested also." i' "Never mind him, we've got the child and, perhaps, he may have been imposed upon, let us rather exert all our energies to catching the other one," the doctor answered. "Well, let's be going then, it's not far from morning." As they neared the doctor's house, the sheriff remarked: You don't want me any longer ? I suppose." " page: 242-243[View Page 242-243] 242 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "No, not to-night," was the reply, "but don't rest till you have hunted up that villain. Mich, hadn't you better go and stay with me, the rest of the night?" "No, docthor, thank ye, I must go home now, me mother might be wantin' me or feel concarned for me." "Well, well-all right, God bless you, boy. But come early in the morning, I want to see you." "Good bye, Anna, don't be throubled about it any more, will ye?" said Mich, as he turned towards home. They soon reached the house, and saw by the light that still dimly burned, that Biddy was keeping watch for them -they had hardly reached the door before it was opened, and Biddy rushed forward with a cry of delight, to meet them. She seized Anna from the doctor's arms, and covered her face with kisses-alternately weeping and laughing, and calling upon all the saints to bless her-and invoking impre- cations upon Haun, till the doctor interfered, and to give time for her transports of joy to moderate, desired her to prepare the bed for Anna, which was done, and the rescued child was soon asleep. AREi ST A ND BRIBEBY. 243 CHAPTER XL TEE ARREST AND BRIE. BY the time the-sheriff had concluded his examination of the Pawnbrokerys shop, as mentioned in the last chapter, quite a crowd, attracted by curiosity, had gathered about the door, and were eagerly watching the proceedings, and impatiently awaiting the issue, although ignorant of the object of the search-for the place was notorious not onlyin the imme- diate neighborhood but throughout the city, whil e the proprietor h ad aquired, as is already known, a reputation for dishonesty and double dealing, which w as not by any means enviable, and which did no t cabye his so cietyto e courted by upright men ty to The heriff, therefore, on co n cluding h is reconnoissance of the apartment, pulled t he d oor together after him on leav ing without takin g the precaution to refasten it-'t c lasping th e doctor's arm within his own, made his way throug h the row d with all haste, towards the dock. "Isay, sheriff, what's the old devil been up to?, c alled o t som e on e from the crowd , as the sheriff p assed . page: 244-245[View Page 244-245] 244 OLD BAIDES TH: PAWNBROKER. "Kidnapping a child," he answered, as he hurried on- for it was getting towards twilight and time was precious. As the officer disappeared, some on the outer verge of the crowd began to walk quietly away, while others remained con- versing in a low tone among themselves, for, from some source they had learned the full particulars of the pawnbroker's offence, and as they commented on it, the whole mass, from some unaccountable impulse, swayed against the door, which readily gave way, precipitating those nearest into the shop, and overturning and crashing tables covered with wares that happened to stand near. In an instant all was excite- ment and confusion. Those who had fallen Lpon the floor recovered themselves, while others pressed into the room after them-while those without raised the cry of " whereas - the kidnapper? down with his house." The cry was taken up by those inside, and " down with his house," shouted the foremost one, as he swept a shelf with his club, sending the articles upon it jingling and crashing to the floor. "Down with the house," others exclaimed, as they tore up counters and broke down stalls and partitions, "root him out," shouted one after another, as they seized the bundles embalmed in the dust -of years, and hurled them into the street. The work of destruction went madly on till there was nothing left to destroy. That which had been the pawnbroker's shop, was completely sacked and demolished, and but little more than the bare walls remained. Not one, of those outside attempted to interfere, but looked silently on as the work progressed-while the windows of the-neigh. ARREST AND BRIBEBY. 245 boring houses were filled with anxious spectators, who through the dim twilight could barely discern the outline of the crowd, but who could hear, with fearful distinctness, the shouts of the rioters, and the crash of distruction, as the work went on. A cry was raised that the police were coming, and in a moment the shop was cleared, and those who had been so actively engaged, mixed with the spectators and disappeared The police remained to prevent further violence, and the peo ple quietly dispersed: No arrests were made at the time nor did any investigation follow. The act seemed to have been considered a-public benefit, which, although the law coud not openly ountenahe, yet at which it might privately wink. Haun, on the day after his interview with Mich, concluded to bring matters at once to a crisis, particularly as -he began to feel impatient of delay, and was anxions and determined to secure the prize which in any event was awaiting him at New Orleans. Therefore, quickly conceiving his plans, he proposed to carry them as quickly into execution. Starting off on a moderate walk, with his hands thrust into his poek- ets, and his head bent down as if in deep study, he took rather a devious course till he reached Pearl street, along which he proceeded some distance, until coming to a low brick building of time-worn and dingy exterior, he. boldly entered, and passing through a corridor, he came to a door which fronted him, at the farther end. He approahedit page: 246-247[View Page 246-247] 246 OLD H &UN5 THE PAWNBRORER cautiously, and stopping, bent down for a moment with his ear to the key-hole: seeming to be satisfied with the apparent security, he rapped, and immediately, without waiting for the door to be opened, he entered. The single window which admitted the dim light over the towering walls of the adjoining buildings, gave to the room an uncomfortable and dismal look. After standing a, moment, in order that his eyesmight gradually accustom themselves to the twilight that seemed to pervade the apartment, he looked around and discovered its only occupant, who sat upon a rude bench, and was industri- ously stitching a garment. He seemed to have already seen some threescore years, and his head was frosted with age. He looked up as Haun entered, but without speaking, until familiarly addressed by him: "Well, old man, hard at it, as usual, eh?" "Yes, it's always work, work, work, with me, and the more work the less pay." He answered in a querulous tone, still continuing his labor. "Then I suppose you'd like a job from me, that may be'll pay you well." "If its honest labor, the Lord in heaven knows I'd be glad enough to do it, but if its the devil's work, I won't," said the old man earnestly, as he laid aside the garment on which he had beeu at work. "Won't I that's a bold word to use." "Perhaps it was once, but I've got beyond fear. These ARREST AND BRIBERXs. 247 withered hands have earned my bread honestly for years past, and with God's help they shall do so still." "Of course; but you needn't be afraid of my wanting anything bad of you-its only a little errand I want you to go on for me." "It does seem to me that you might be able to find many younger and stronger limbs than mine to run of errands. I mistrust you still." "Don't be too suspicious." "Tell me, then, at once, and plainly, what it is you want. I will not be tempted." "Listen, then. A friend of mine, down South, has a little daughter, about nine years of age, in this city, living down on Greenwich street there, with a man called Foster. He's a doctor. .My friend left her only for a few weeks, in- tending to come and take her away, but-was taken sick and couldn't come for a long time, and finally sent for her ; but this doctor has become attached to her, as he pretends, and won't let her go; and because I am anxious to help my friend, he refuses to let me see the child, or go to his house. Now I'm going to take the child away from him, and re- store her to her father, who is pining for her. I want you therefore to go this evening and tell the child (her name's Anna Hervey) that the doctor wants to see 'her at his office; then I will meet you somewhere and arrange the rest." "It looks fair enough, and may be all right,; but I: tell page: 248-249[View Page 248-249] 248 OLD HAlN, THE PAWNBROEKER. you again I mistrust you, and I will sooner rot in idleness, than undertake anything that may lead to crimeY "Look you, sir, I'm not in the habit of begging, and I'llU tell you something that may warm your old blood. Did you ever hear the story of an old man with a grey head like yours, who went to a certain humble person and borrowed a small amount of money, and gave, as security, a note endorsed by a certain wealthy citizen; and did you ever hear how, when this note was shown to this certain wealthy citi- zen, he pronounced his signature a forgery, and then how the maker of the note came and returned the money, with a large interest, so that he might escape the prison ; and how the note couldn't, just at that moment, be found, and never was seen by the maker from that time to this-thise ry minute. And did you ever hear that that forged hote looked just like the piece of paper that I've got here? Ah I 1 see you've heard the story before," said Haun, ironically, as he held aloft in his hand, a small strip of paper, on which the tyes of the old man had been fixed with piercing earnest- ness, duringthe remarks of 'aun. The latter observed his manner, as he refolded the paper, and put it in his pocket, and remarked "Now, you'd lilke to have this little strip of paper in your possession; I know you would, but you are not ivilling to help a friend, and so --"- I' I will, I will, give me' the paper," said the old man, with the energy of despair, and then immediately sank his ARREBST AND BRIBERY. 249 head upon his hand; but again starting up, he added: ,Yes, I have heard the story before, and I remember- it well, and since then I've tried to live honestly before God and man, and trusted that this, my first crime, was forgot- ten ; but you will not let me; you haunt me like an evil spirit, and tempt me to sin. Give me that paper, and I'll do what you ask; but f there's crime in it, on your own head be it." s Certainly, you are mistaken, old man; I don't want to persecute you; but your grey head and honest face may help me some, and I choose to use "you." "At what hour shall I go?" "At eight, precisely, call at my shop, and I will direct you more particularly." "I shall try and be punctual." a Try I I've no doubt in my mind that you'll be there at the time-at the very minute-and now I must go," said Haun, as he left the room and returned hastily to-his own shop, where he busied himself with certain preparations until a rap was heard at his door, which he had locked and securely fasteneC Going towards it, he carefully opened it till he recognized his visitor, whom he desired to enter for a moment; then, completing the labor on which he was engaged, relocked his door, and with his companion sallied out. "I knew you would come, and be punctual, too." "Yes, I am indeed here, but my heart misgives me. Is it the plain truth that you have told me " II* page: 250-251[View Page 250-251] 250 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Don't trouble your brain too much, or it might not be well for you ; here take this street, it leads into Greenwich street, turn to the right and you'll see the name on the door. I shall be near, and mind, no bungling. By the way, there's an Irish servant, tell her she's wanted too." "I do still fear that it is a business an honest man should spurn, but I must go on in it now whatever be the result,', said the old man to himself, as he turned to leave. "But why have the servant also?" he turned to inquire. "Because we should have her anyway, and it would be best to send for her in the first place ; but I'll dispose of her. Now, hurry on." "I will, but I trust there'll be no violence- used upon the person of either," he said, again stopping. "Just go on, and do as I want you to; time is pressing," Haun answered. "Now don't, I pray you, get impatient, I find that I can't go with the speed that I could once; I'm getting feebler every day." Haun approached the old man, and said, through his closed teeth, as he laid his hand heavily on his shoulder: "Are we to stay here all night, or are you going?"The old man did not wait to answer, but moved off as briskly as age and weakness would permit. Arrived at Dr. Foster's house, which he found without difficulty; he rung the bell, and Bridget appeared at the door. "I am told that Doctor Poster lives here. Is there a child of nine years and upward living with him A' ARREST AND BRIBERY. -251 "There's no one- but Anna Hervey," Bridget answered. "True I and a servant girl, whose name is " "Bridget," she interrupted; ," that's meself." "True, the doctor wishes you to accompany me with the child to his office." 't To go to his office, and for what, I'd like to know?" "Indeed I know not; I asked no questions, but came as fast as I could." ( Well, sir, will ye be pleased to wait a bit while we get ready?" said Bridget, as she turned to Anna, who had approached on hearing voices, and asked: "What is it, Biddy? what does he want?" "Jist nothing at all, but to go to the docthor's office; so, get yerself ready." "Who is he? Did the doctor send you for us?" contin- ued Anna, turning to him. "Surely, my dear child, or why should I have come?" "Why didn't he come home himself?" "I really am not able to answer your question." "What can he want of us so late in the evening?" "I wish I could tell you, child, but I cannot." Without further questioning, the party left the house, and proceeded towards the doctor's office. They went before, leading the way, and did not observe the significant fact that their companion seemed to be ignorant of the proper direction. Had they noticed this circumstance, it would have put them on their guard; but without guile themselves they suspected no evil designs in others, As they passed page: 252-253[View Page 252-253] i).25 OLD HAUN THE PAWNBROKER. unsuspectingly along, a man darted from the shadow of a building, and as his form appeared for an instant before her eyes, Biddy fell prostrate upon the earth, struck senseless by a blow upon the side of the head, which came with such force, and so unexpectedly, that she had not the time to even utter a scream. At almost the very instant the blow was struck, Anna felt herself grasped by a muscular hand, and a handkerchief bound instantly around her mouth, so as to completely stifle any sound that she might attempt to utter. At the same time, a shawl was thrown over her head, and she felt herself raised up from the walk and rapidly borne along the street. As soon as she had par- tially recovered her senses, so as to realize her situation, she endeavored to cry out, but could only utter inarticulate sounds. She endeavored to writhe herself from the grasp of her captor, but in vain ; his long arms coiled around her like bonds, and effectually prevented any motion, and their increased pressure at any attempt to release herself became intensely painful. After being borne, as it seemed to her, a great distance, she was placed upon the ground, and heard her captor muttering : "Why don't he move along? time for him to be here." And soon thereafter footsteps were heard approaching, and she recognized the voice of the speaker, as he said, petulantly, to the new comer : "Well, you're here at last. Now make you're old legs more lively, and find where the boat lies." "Yes, the Lord be praised," answered the person Ad- RRiEST AND BRIBERY. 253 dressed, as he drew a'long breath, "I'm here, at last, but it has wrenched me terribly to come with such speed. Don't be impatient-I've no doubt I shall soon find it, and then I'll come and inform you." "Well, do it, then, and don't speak loud enough to raise the city ; I'm not deaf. It's lucky that it's as dark as Egypt, or the whole pack would be howling aroundus.') The other person made no answer, but the sound of re- treating steps was heard, and then again all was still for a few moments. The sound of steps approaching was again heard, and-the same voice remarked: "I've found it. It's but a short distance from here." "Well, lead the way, then, and be quiet. Now, girl, I'm going to take you to your uncle, as I told you. Mind that you don't try to escape from me, or to make any noise, or I'll stop your talking in a way you won't like." "Now do go on, and show the way-don't stand all night," said Haun, impatiently. "Yes, I will ; but don't take it amiss, I pray you, if I desire you to return to me the note that you hold, as you must recollect you promised to do." "Of course, when you've kept your part of the contract." "Don't consider me too urgent'; but I can't rest in peace while the paper is in your possession, and I hope, for your own sake, you will not oblige me to , "Oh, your long-winded sermons-there, take the note-here it is. Now lead the way." "No-I have the paper, and I will not lead the way. I page: 254-255[View Page 254-255] 254 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. will do this much, however: I will point to the boat, that you may find it. It is there," said the old man, and after a pause, resumed : "I do not feel right about my share in this business, although it may be all correct, and I trust we may never meet again on earth-so farewell." Haun, without waiting to hear the remainder of his remark, again seized his charge in his arms, and saying in a subdued tone, "Now, girl, remember if you speak one word aloud, I'll throttle you," passed quickly and quietly on to the boat; but as he and the girl crossed the guards, he was met by one of the crew, who seemed to be on watch, who demanded peremptorily his business at that late hour. Haun replied, in a conciliatory manner, that he was a stranger, and had come with his little grand-daughter, to take passage on the boat, supposing that it would leave that evening--but if not, then he wanted to secure a passage, and stay on board until morning. But Haun found that every undertaking, however trivial or unimportant, has its obstacles to overcome, and was therefore dumbfounded, when he was informed, in no very gentle or carefully chosen words, that the boat didn't leave till the next evening, and that it was too late for him to secure a passage that night, and that even if he had already done so, he could not come on until the next day, as it was against orders to have passengers staying on board. iHau felt himself placed in a very disagreeable predicament. He could not remain on board of the boat, and he dared not return into the city , but he knew by experience that nothing was obtained without labor and cost, and therefore proceeded ARREST AND BRIBERY. 255 accordingly, and had the satisfaction to find his labors crowned with success. After a long conference, he induced the man who was known among the crew by the name of Ben, not only to admit him with his charge on board, at that late hour, but also to make provision for a place of thorough concealment in the store-room, until the boat should be under way and all danger past, and to supply him with all things necessary, until such time as he might dare to show himself. , The bargain was, after some haggling, concluded, and Haun: was temporarily shown to a part of the boat least exposed to observation, where he could remain until the- crew should have retired to their berths, and thus be out of the way, and then he could seek his retreat. He remained- shivering in the night air, until the evening was well advanced, and then, under the guidance of his friend, all appearing quiet below, sought his place of refuge, in the store-room. The- day finally dawned, and to Haun, in his confined position, seemed to pass slowly away; but as night- again approached, he regained his spirits and his courage, and waited impatiently for the vessel to leave port. He was, however, far from feeling'at ease ; his limbs had become cramped from their long re- straint and want of exercise, and he was obliged to exert a constant watchfulness over his charge, to prevent her utter- ing any sound that might attract the attention of the crew, whenever any of them might happen to pass near. On hearing the voices of the party in pursuit of Anna, his heart sank, and he crouched still closer into the corner that he had chosen for his place of refuge ; but when Anna's smothered page: 256-257[View Page 256-257] 256 OLD H A U N , THE PAWNBROKER. cry had attracted their attention, he gave all up as lost, and prepared to defend himself desperately ; but when he heard their retreating footsteps become fainter, then he became exhilarated with joy at his escape, but again catching the sound of their voices, and hearing the doctor shouting the name of "Anna," he prepared himself for any emergency,' rather than be arrested. The idea of escape occurred to him suddenly, as the door flew open, and he saw the opportu- nity presented. It was not premeditated. On leaping from the boat on to the dock, he ran at full speed, and was soon covered by the darkness. After run- ning with as little noise as possible, two blocks, he stopped and listened for the sound of pursuing footsteps, but to his surprise, he heard nothing. He turned and retraced his steps for a short distance, and again listened, but in vain. He grew bolder, and skulking carefully along, reached un- seen a pile of boxes on the dock, behind which he crept. - As he crouched in his hiding-place, he observed the sheriff and his party leave the boat, and heard distinctly their conver- sation. He followed them carefully in the darkness, for a short distance, revolving in his mind the chances of success in attempting a rescue, when the party should separate, but finally gave it up as being too hazardous, and again slunk away into the gloom of night. Making his way through by-streets and alleys, Haun once more returned to the neighborhood of his own shop. He could discern by the dim light of a street lamp that flickered ARREST AND BRIBERY& 257 near, the destruction that had rioted upon his cherished pro- perty. He did not dare to go nearer, but gliding around to a private .door, entered. He felt his way along until he reached a trap-door, which he raised, and kneeling upon the floor, extended his arm into the aperture, and drew there- from a small tin box, which he deposited beside him ; then rising hastily, he groped his way into his inner apartment, into which the crowd had not penetrated, and'in a moment re-appeared, disguised by the addition of a large wig of grey hair, a Quaker hat, and a drab coat of formal cut, and then seizing his box, opened the door and prepared to leave. But alas for the fallibility of human, expectations. A policeman had been stationed to watch the premises for the very pur- pose of intercepting Haun, in case of his return ; and now, simple man, he runs into the very net which his own cunning should have taught him to avoid. The policeman, therefore, himself unobserved, quietly stood awaiting Haun's exit, and as the latter stepped from the door, the officer stood before him, with his club raised ready to arrest his departure ; the watchman laid his other hand heavily upon Haun's shoulder. The pawnbroker was taken at disadvantage, and his courage failed him. With a blank visage, he cast his eyes about on either side, as far as the darkness would permit, to discover whether any opportunity for escape or resistance offered, while the officer said mockingly, and with a nasal twang : "Friend, art thou ready to go with me?" "Donit stop me," said Haun, in an excited manner; "I page: 258-259[View Page 258-259] 258 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. must be off with the boat. I'll pay you-come, how much shall I give you?" "Thou art very generous, but if thou 'rt ready, we will commence our travel," persisted the officer. "No, no, don't-say what it shall be, and here's your money." "Would'st thou tempt me, wicked man?" "Ten-twenty-thirty dollars," Haun answered, with a long pause between each word ; "say how much." ' Gammon I I see you a'nt in earnest," said the officer, dropping the assumed tone. "Stop I don't go yet ; tell me what you'll take." "Two hundred dollars, and nothing less." "I've not so much money. See-I've been robbed of my property.}" "Well, then, let's go." "Say one hundred dollars, and I'll try." "I've already told you, and if you're not satisfied, don't let's stop to talk." "Here!" said Haun, as if struck with a sudden idea, Pll give you a hundred now, and the other hundred when I get back." "Will you, though, for sure?" said the policeman, ironi- caUy. "Yes, I will, and another fifty on top of it." "Yes you won't ; but there's no use talking-I see you had rather go to jail; and hark, I hear some one coming- ARREST AND BRIBERY. 259 it may be too late, already, to arrange it. Never mind, 'll call him, and see who it is." "No, don't-here's a hundred and fifty in gold-the last farthing I have in the world, as true as I live," Haun an. swered in a whining voice. "Then come on, will you go willingly, or shall I give the signal for assistance?" "Stop I stopl here's the money, two hundred dollars, and I'm a ruined, man." "All right," said the officer, as he counted the pieces, "now I'd advise you to move off softly, or you might get nabbed again-and mind about showing your ugly mug very soon, around here." Haun did not wait for a second bidding, but, as soon as he was released, made his long limbs do good service-while the policeman continued his round, and reported at head quarters, that no one had appeared, but forgot to speak- of the two hundred dollars that he had received. But policemen were not so incorruptible in those days, as they are at present. After the fortunate release of Haun from the hands of the policeman, he was moved with conflicting emotions, misfor- tunes had fallen heavily upon him, the prize that he had so long struggled, striven, and plotted for, had been wrung from his very grasp. His premises had been invaded, and his property ruthlessly destroyed by a mob. He had paid out his money for his liberty-his money, that he worshipped. And what had he gained? He had escaped when in inlmi- page: 260-261[View Page 260-261] 260 OLD H A N THE PAWNBROKER. nent danger. But he was an outlaw, and dare not walk abroad at noonday, nor appear in his accustomed haunts. The accomplishment of his great object was still unperfected. He had been but preparing the way to the fulfillment of the design on which his heart had doted. The means that he had adopted to reach this end, had been wrested from'him in part only. He had the remnant of his shattered allies still in his possession, and with a dogged determination, resolved that no consideration should restrain him or induce him to recede. He knew full well that it would not be judicious to let the day dawn upon him, while tarrying in the neighborhood of New York. As he walked slowly and cautiously along, revolving such thoughts, the grey light of morning began to appear in the east. Looking around for some place of refuge, he discovered that he was not far from the river, where the flags of vessels of all nations were lazily floating upon the breeze of morning. His resolution was soon taken. Selecting indifferently one of the nearest boats, he went on board, and weary in body, but with his iron will still unbent, threw himself upon a seat, and soon sank into a deep sleep. The vessel was bound for Havana, as he learned after- wards. He did not awake until aroused by the rays of the morning sun which fell full upon his face, and he then went immediately helow, both for the purpose of escap- ing observation, and of inquiring the destination of the boat. He listened with delight to the rattle of wheels, as vehicle ARREST AND, BRIBERRY 26Y after vehicle, loaded with passengers whirled madly through the streets, down to the dock. He heard, with pleasure, the constantly increasing hum and bustle of life. He heard the "heave-ho 1" of the crew as the last parcel of freight was tumbled into the hold. The signal was given-the plank pulled in-the lines cast off-and then the pawnbroker felt that he had escaped fiery trials-that danger was past-and giving one sullen scowling look to'the, by him deserted city, turned his back resolutely upon it, and cast his eyes seaward, where the broad expanse of waters lay before him. b * j v page: 262-263[View Page 262-263] WZO; OLD H A U N T HE i y AW A N KU t ^ iK. CHAPTER XII. MR. PIERCEF AND MCH. "WEEPING may endure for a night, but joy cometh with the morning." So wrote the Psalmist, and so it was in the house of Doctor Foster, after the restoration of the lost one. But the doctor, not yet knowing of Haun's escape from the city, feared a repetition of the attempt which had so fortunately miscarried, and, therefore, concluded that a proper regard for the safety of the child would be consulted only by placing her beyond his reach. He revolved the matter in his mind, as he sat at break- fast, and ate his solitary meal, for Anna had not yet arisen, and he hesitated to disturb her, after the mental excitement of the past few hours. But his reverie was unexpectedly interrupted by her entrance. She approached, and throw- ing her arms around his neck, greeted him with the usual morning salutation, and said: "How glad I am to be back here again; but I dreamt all night about that old man. What do you suppose he wanted of me?" MR. PIEROE AND MOH. 263 - l "I don't know, never mind him ; I wouldn't think of him any more." "I know what he wanted; he told me he was going to take me to my uncle." "He did? we'll find out all about that uncle before long." "1 don't care for any uncle but you; but, perhaps, he will come and try again," said Anna, shuddering. "No, no, I think not.; but we must be on our guard. You must not stay here for the present." ( What do you mean? don't send me away." ( I've got a friend in the country, and, I think " "But, you know, Mich's coming, too, this morning," interrupted Anna, " and I want to see him; he'd feel bad, if he should come and find me gone; and, perhaps, he'd think I didn't want to see him." "Well, you ought to be glad to see hini, child ; for, if it hadn't been for him, we should not have found you. I'm sure of that." "Where do you want me to go?" . "I wanted you to go into the country, but I must stay here to-day, and, perhaps, for several days; and so, I think, will let you visit some friend till I can dispose of my business." "But you don't think he would come. into the house dur- ing the day?" "I don't think anything about it, child, and I'm not going to risk anything, and until I am sure that he is a hundred miles from the city, I shall not feel secure; so I page: 264-265[View Page 264-265] BIUS IL) I A U t'I -U- AL W a Djr -A kJ&a. A must think of some place-by the way, there's that minis- ter who was here once. I'm not much acquainted with him, but he don't live far from here, and, I think, I can arrange. it with him. How would you like going there?" "I should like that; but, perhaps they wouldn't want me." "Well, I'll see to that. Finish your breakfast, and then go and fix yourself up a little; because he has some chil- dren and I want you to look nicely ; and then we'll go and see if they want a visitor." The breakfast was soon finished, and, in a few minutes, Anna stood ready to accompany the doctor. As she approached, he glanced at her with a feeling of gratified pride. Her pale face was in such marked contrast with the deep hue of her dress, while her large, hazel eyes showed such a depth of intelligence and feeling, that the casual glance of the passer was involuntarily arrested, and he turned to look again. She did not possess that perfection of mould in her feature which constitutes beauty; but there was that indescribable something in the expression of her face, which seemed to be more of spiritual than mortal. "So, my little girl is ready," said the doctor fondly, as she approached, and, taking her by the hand, "Well, now, come along ;" and,' turning to Biddy, he added: 'Tell Mich, if he should come, that I was in a hurry, and couldn't wait, but I'll see him at the office." They left the house, and, after a short walk, stood before the door of the Rev. Joseph Randall, the clergyman who BR. PIERCE AND MH. 265 was present and ministered to Mrs. H evey during her last illness. A servant answered their summons, and showing them into a plainly furnished parlor, left them to call he master, who soon entered and greeted'them cordially. . The doctor, from his not by any means, intimate ac- quaintance with the clergyman, felt somewhat embarrassed in opening to him the subject of his early visit. H'e said, at the same time glancing at Anna: "I have a favor to ask of you." Anything that is in my power," Mr. Randall answertd. - "I dare not leave my little girl .at home, and wish you to permit her to remain with your family for, perhaps, a day or two." "Certainy, with a great deal of pleasure," the clergy- man quickly answered, but still not. entirely able to conceal a look of surprise at the request. "Thank you. I hope she won't trouble you; I will come for her myself before dark, so don't let her go with an y one else. Circumstances require that she should be closely guarded for a day or two." "I will attend to your request; but I trust. nothing unpleasant has occurred to -:? "Unpleasant ! yes, sir, I am obliged to say that some- thing very unpleasant has occurred,' the doctor answered, with more emphasis than he intended or was aware of. "Indeed I H am anxious to learn what it can be." "It is right that I should inform you," the doctor replied, page: 266-267[View Page 266-267] 266 OLD HAlU , TE PAnWNB E R. and immediately detailed, as concisely as possible, the events with which the reader is already familiar ; and rising to take his leave, added : "From this, you will understand my object in bringing her to you; and you will also see the necessity of her being carefully guarded until we can learnwhether the villain has left the city, or whether" he is still prowling about for the purpose of making a more successful attempt." iYour wishes thall be regarded. I hopesheill stay with us contentedly.' "Be a good girl, Anna--good bye" said the doctor, as he left the room. Aa's bosom heaved, and tears started he left the room. A Ot Bhe quickly P- to her eyes, when she was left alone ; but she q pressed her emotion when Mr. Randall re-entered the room, and taking her hand, spoke a few encouraging wods, and invited her to go with him into the nursery to get ac ted th hi ch-dren. Ans timidity soon wore off, and the children became quickly auas ed rapidly away, and when the doctor came for her, in the evening, she left, with many promises of soon coming again, delighted with her visit. The family of Mr. Randall consisted of three children- the eldest, a boy of fourteen years, who had conceived for his new acqugamtance quite a boyish fancy, while she, on the other hand, had been attracted by his frank and open man ner, and preferred his society to that of the younger children. She went often afterwards to pass a day in the family of Mr. Randall, where she was always warmly and cordillyg welcomed M M . PIERCE AND M OC. 267 After Doctor Foster had disposed of his charge for the day, he went immediately in search of the sheriff. .Fom him he learned, to his great disappointment, that H aun had not been captured, but had probably escaped from the city. He also learned from the same source, that upon examination of the pockets of the coat accidentally left by Haun, several important papers were discovered, some of which showed his connection with many of the most notorious criminals of the day, who had made his shop a depot for every kind of pro- perty obtained, by them through burglary and theft. And it was also suspected, from what was there discovered, that he was implicated with a regularly organized band, not only as a recipient of property illegally obtained, but as a promi- nent actor in many of the more daring robberies which, at that time, as will be seen by reference to the journals of the day, were mysteriously perpetrated. The discovery of these papers caused suspicion to fall heavily also upon several persons who had hitherto sustained a fair reputation, and in consequence of which a thorough and secret inquisition was instituted, and prosecuted with vigor by the sheriff, in conjunction with the city authorities, but although sufficient proof was obtained to renders their guilt morally certain, still, the legal evidence was wanting, on which a prosecution could have been based, and thus the guilty escaped. Doctor Foster expressed his chagrin at the escape of Haun, and urged upon the sheriff the necessity of scouring the city to render it certain, that he was not still larking about in page: 268-269[View Page 268-269] 268 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROXER. some of the dens of crime and infamy ; but the sheriffls ex- perience taught him that Haun, having had a fair opportu- nity and sufficient time to place himself beyond their reach, would suffer no ordinary inducement to keep himsbut would consult his safety by flight; and in reply to the demand of the doctor that he should continue, without intermission, the search, said: "Be patient, doctor-I tell you there's no use in looking for him. I know enough of-such matters to assure you with confidence that he is not in the city." "I doubt if the old Shylock would go and leave his pro- perty in this way. It's that that makes me think he must be prowling around waiting for a chance to carry it with him.? "You may depend upon it, doctor, he's no bird to be caught by chaff; and as to the property, unless he's got some hid somewhere, I don't think that in his shop is worth coming after." "Why so?" "There can't be much of it left. The boys made havoc with his old den, last night." "Did they? I hadn't heard of it. Did any one watch there!9" "Yes, I placed a good man there." "And he didn't appear?" 4' am informed not." "That is too bad. I believe you are right, after all, and that he has left ; so I shall rest much easier." MB. PIERCE AND MOC . 69 "You'd better, however, be a little careful, and on your guard, because he's a desperate fellow." "That I shall be," said the doctor, as he left and went to consult once more with his friend Pierce. "Well, doctor,', said the attorney, as the former entered "o you didn't entirely succeed, still you-got the girl-that's the great point. Sorry I couldn't have been with you, but I got separated at the shop of the pawnbroker, and lidn't observe when you left; but the sheriff has told me all about it, this morning. Have you heard how they served his shop?" "Yes ; pity they hadn't burnt it with himin it," answered the doctor. --- "Exactly what I thought myself, and I believe they would have burnt it, had it not been for the danger of commnic. ting to the neighboring houses." ' "Were yon there?", "I may confess that I was there, and saw the fun, but I shall not criminate myself by saying anything-further, " said Mr. Piere, laughing. "By the by, how is the child ?" he added. ' over"well as eer; frightened some, but she'll soon get over hit." "Poor thing, it m ust have been a terrible situation for her, and to be in such hands, too." "Yes; I was afraid it might produce some serious "The sheriff tells me that, had it n ot been for an Irish lad of her acquaintance, he should not have found her." page: 270-271[View Page 270-271] I -V u L1 j : A U nI T A Jl J rAj IN a. JnJ v Ja me i "I think that is so." "Who is the boy?" "He is employed by Doctor Marsh, in some way, but became acquainted with my ward before her mother died, and comes often to my house to see her now. He's a rare boy--active, intelligent, and honest." "How came he there at that time of night 7? said the attorney, curiously. "I went myself to see him at first when I found that the child was missing, and so he came down with me and insti- tuted a search on his own account, I suppose, but in fact, I forgot all about him, and haven't thought to ask him since ; but I've left word for him to call and see me, and I'll inquire of him about it; but the next time I saw him was down on the dock; as the sheriff and I were groping along in the darkness he discovered us, and directed us to the very spot. As it was, I had some difficulty in inducing the sheriff to be guided by him, he wanted take another direction ; if he had, the child would have been lost." "It's the same lad that you spoke to me about, the other day in connection with this same affair, is it not?" "It's hard for me to recollect, I've had so much in -my head for the last few days, but I presume I referred to himn. "While on this subject, doctor," said Mr. Pierce, slowly and meditatively, "do you know whether this boy is engaged for any time in his present situation?" "Can't say with certaitty, but I don't think he would MB. PIEzROE AND GouOH. 271 wish to remain if he could find anything to do more to his taste." "I've been thinking since you spoke- of him, whether I couldn't engage him ; I need some one, and believe he might suit me. What do you think?" "Just the one, Pierce; couldn't do better, the fact is, Mich has a soul above holding a horse, and mere menial employment. I think he's a boy of promise, young as he is," said the doctor, warmly. "When you see him again then, doctor, just sound him, and if he'd like to change send him to me, and I'll talk with him, and may perhaps be able to do something if he shows himself apt," "I will do it, certainly. I wanted to inquire about when we ought to expect an answer from New Orleans." "It is not quite time yet, but we shall hear before long, you may rely upon it." "I have a mind to make a journey myself down there; I could find out more in a day than your lawyers can in a month." "You are mistaken, doctor; I have done considerable business with the firm, and have always found them prompt. So rest easy-it would be very imprudent at any rate for you to go at this season, even if it were necessary, which it is not." "Imprudent; why so?" "I refer to the necessary exposure of your health by going there during the warm weather." page: 272-273[View Page 272-273] "That's it, eh ; I think I should be able to take care of myself." "That may be, but what would you do with the child? even if you thought proper to risk your own health, you have no right to expose hers. You would not. of course, think of taking her with you?" "Right I I will leave the matter in your hands, only drive it through." "And I can not help thinking, doctor, after all, that we may have given the slight ground on which our suspicions are based too much importance. However, time will deter- mine, I shall omit nothing," said the attorney, as he again resumed his writing, which had been interrupted by the entrance of the doctor, who left to attend to his own duties. At as early an hour in the morning as he could absent him- self from his usual employment, Mich stood before the door of Doctor Foster. He had come to inquire whether all had gone well, and to satisfy himself of Anna's continued safety. He was greatly disappointed when he learned that she had kft so early in the morning, and turned away in silence to take his leave. But Biddy, kind soul, called him back to communicate the message of the doctor, and it tended to raise his drooping spirits, and to lighten the pressure upon his heart. jHe returned to the discharge of his duties, but his thoughts were away. He thought she might have stayed at home long enough to see him, and wondered where she had gone, whom she would see, and whether she would *'4i MR. PIERCE AND-MCH. 273 meet any one else to like better than himself-and thus even unconsciously, the natural selfishness of human nature exhibited itself. When Mich went, however, on the succeeding day to renew his call, the shade of jealousy that had for a short time rested upon his spirit, was dissipated by the glance of Anna's eye, that lighted up with joy, on meeting him again -and her cordial greeting banished his half-formed' fears. She was delighted to see him, and thanked him over and over again, for his opportune aid in rescuing her. She also bold him how much she had enjoyed her visit, what she had lone, seen, and heard, and whom she had met and become Icquainted with. Mich listened attentively, although his ace was sad, and a shade of vexation would flit occasionally cross his features, and finally, when she stopped for a loment, Mich replied: "Well, Anna, I'm thinking ye'll not care to see me so ften now, ye've got so many new frinds?" "Why I Mich, what do you mean ?' she inquired, quickly, nd looking with earnestness into his face. "In fa'th an' I mane ye'll not be wantin' to -waste ye're me on a poor folk like meself when ye have so many new inds." "Now, Mich I you know that's not so. I shall be just as ad to see you now as I always have been-why shouldn't "It's the way wid the grand folk, and ye're not to blame r it," answered Mich, as he turned his face resolutely away. 12* page: 274-275[View Page 274-275] HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Mich," exclaimed Anna, with a quivering lip as the tears came to her eyes. She could say no more, but hid her face in her hands and sobbed. She felt so hurt, so disappointed at witnessing the strange and unusual manner and tone of Mich. She had been anxious to see him after the dangers she had escaped. Mich looked at her for a moment, and endeavored manfully to maintain his composure and not exhibit any weakness, while his face flushed and paled alternately with the emotion that was struggling within him, and then he went up to her and drawing her hands from her face, said in a trembling voice : "Stop, now, Anns, won't ye?" "Mich, you ought not to say that, when you know that I do care for you, and you've always been so kind when I had no one else to help me." "Well thin don't spake of it; I did'nt mane to hurt ye're feelins', but I couldn't help it." "Why not, Mich?" "I don't know meself, sometimes I feel so quare like, an' so lonesome I can't contint meself, an' me mother's gettin' so wakely, that I'm always a fearin' she'll go off and lave me alone in the wide world, but if I could know that ye were still me frind, I could keep a brave heart." "Mich, don't talk so; you make me feel bad. You must'nt think so much about her, because when you get the other place youll be able to do more for her." "What's the place ye mane?" MR. PIERCOE AND MOH. 275 "Did'nt the doctor tell you about Mr. Pierce wanting to see you?" "Niver a word, buc I hav'nt seen the ddcthor since the last night. What did he want of me?" "I think he wanted you to come and live with him-but I'll ask the doctor. He's a lawyer-I heard the doctor say so. I should think you would rather live with him than hold a horse." Mich colored slightly, at the unthinking allusion to his occupation, but replied: "Indade, an' I would that same. It's only for want of a better place that I'm there at all. Where does he live? I'll go the minute." "You'd better wait for the doctor, and perhaps he'll go with you, and he'll tell you all about it, too." "Well, I'd bether be' goin' now, and comin' this afther- noon to spake with the docthor; so good by. I cannot stay now, for mabee I'll be wanted." Without waiting longer, Mich seized his cap, and darted off. In the afternoon, true to his engagement, he called on Doctor Foster, who explained to him the duties that would be required of him in the new situation, advised him freely and frankly not to fail to secure the place, and offered to go with him to Mr. Pierce's office at once, to arrange the-mat- ter. Mich gladly accepted the proposition, and accompanied the doctor. Terms were soon settled, and Mich agreed to enter into the service of the attorney, as soon as he could obtain a release from his engagement with his present em. page: 276-277[View Page 276-277] ployer. In this there was but little difficulty, and although Doctor Marsh would have gladly retained him, yet, con- scious that the change was to Mich's advantage, he generous- ly consented to forego any private considerations of interest or convenience, and to consent to the change. Mich left with regret his old employer, but immediately entered with zeal upon the discharge of the duties of his new situation. As time passed on, although no tidings of Haun could be obtained, still Doctor Foster did not feel secure. lHe could not give himself up, with his usual devotedness, to the cares of his profession. There seemed to be some evil impending. His mind was distracted. He could not feel sure, on return- ing home at night, of finding all things safe ; and therefore, as this indefinable dread seemed to increase upon him, and to weigh upon his spirits, he determined to absent himself for a time from the city, and from the duties of his profession, hoping that his mind would thereby regain its accustomed tone and elasticity, and trusting also that on his return, after a few weeks absence, he should be able to obtain some certain information of the whereabouts of the one to whose machinations he had been subject, and who had so inter- rupted the even tenor of his life. He resolved, during the few weeks of hot weather, to leave the city and take his ward with him into the country. This he felt that he might consistently do, as for years he had borne the heat and burthen of the day, year in and year out, toiling on in the regular routine of his duties, unceasingly and uncomplainingly, without once deserting his post to seek MB. .PIERCE AND MoH. 2" his own amusement and recreation. Now he resolved that he would go. The interest of another was at stake. He might have willingly sacrificed himself if necessary, but now a higher obligation-was resting upon him. On returning to his house, the doctor communicated to Anna his determination, much to her delight, and desired her to prepare her wardrobe and hold herself in readiness for the morrow. She ran to inform Biddy of the pleasure in store for her, and waited with impatience for the morrow. The morrow finally came, and with it a bright sunny morn- ing. All necessary preparation having been completed, they bade good by to Biddy, left her sole mistress of the man- sion, and departed. The boat floated like a swan upon the water, while the ripples played in the sunlight, and soon it glided away and moved gracefully from its moorings. Their first destination was Albany, where they arrived in due course of time. From Albany they wandered off into the northern portion of the State, just where fancy led them, avoiding as much as possible the dust and sweltering heat of cities, and tarry- ing in quiet villages, or stopping in search of enjoyment where nature was yet free from the handicraft of man. Thus a month passed in perfect freedom from the restraint and carelessness of the morrow, till the doctor was admonish- ed of the lapse of time, and warned to turn his face home- ward. He still, however, lingered, anxious for a little .while longer to commune with nature, but finally bursting from t the thraldom that to him was sopleasant, started in (ruest ykasut,* . started, mI ' ; page: 278-279[View Page 278-279] 278 OLD HATN, THE PAWNBROKER. for home. And now his anxiety to return, to recommence active business, to see his home, to mix in the din and bustle of life, was quite as great as it had once been to escape. He was impatient of the slow progress they were making. But in due time the tall spires of the city glad- dened his sight, and soon thereafter he stood before his own door. Biddy welcomed them with a hearty good will, and hastened to make all things ready for their reception, after their long absence. They had hardly become rested, after the fatigue of travelling, when Mich made his appearance, and his greet- ing was cordially returned. Anna related to him her won- derful experience of the past month, while he mentioned the great change that had been wrought in his fortunes since their departure. It was a change, indeed, and one which was to influence his whole life; the advantage was not in the increased compensation, but in the opportunities which he would enjoy for study and improvement. His employer soon discovered that Mich was no common boy, He had observed him, when released from other duties, quietly and unobtrusively retire to a corner, and drawing a well-worn book from his pocket, silently and attentively scan its pages. He saw that he had an inquiring mind and a retentive memory, and was quick to understand and comprehend. He found him active and industrious, and, above all, trustwor- thy, and became interested in him. On a certain occasion, observing Mich with his book in his hand, Mr. Pierce M3R. PIECBO AND MCH. 279 inquired of him what he was reading; and Mich looking up, as he found Mr. Pierce's keen eyes fixed upon him, hesitatingly replied: "It's a history, sir." "A history I of what?" "Of yer own counthry, sir."- "Where did you learn to read?" "At the school, mainly, sir." "Have you been nuich?" "No, sir, not a great dale ; me father got too poor to bear the expense, and so I had to leamrn at home when I could get time." "Would you like to have an education?" "Indade, sir, it's the wish -of me heart-; but -there's no use thinkin' of it, sir, me mother's got so wakely since she's had to work to earn her bread, that P'm forced to save everything I can spare to give it to her; but if ye've nothin' forninst it, I should be glad to rade by meself, when ye've nothing for me to do, sir." "No, I have nothing against it, and should be glad to have you improve your time. Have you no other book but this?" "Nothin' to spake of, sir; this was a prisiut to me, "-How long did you say you had studied by yourself?" Mr. Pierce continued. "It might be the matter of a twelvemomth, or so, sir." "Can you write?" . , page: 280-281[View Page 280-281] 280 OLD HA UN THE PAWNBROKER. "Yes, sir, after a fashion." "Let me see you write your name." Mich did as desired, and Mr. Pierce was as much grati- fied as surprised, to see his progress in chirography. After sitting for a few minutes in thought, -Mr. Pierce said, as he gazed with satisfaction into Mich's intelligent face : Mich, how would you like to be a lawyer 7" "How would I like. it, sir?"Mich answered, starting up, enthusiastically, but immediately sank .back, despairingly, as he continued: ' but that's not for the likes of me, sir." "And why not? you are young yet; there's time enough for you to get a good education." "Indade, ye're jesting wid me ; where'd I get the money to pay for it?" "You don't need a great deal of money. Study by your- self, as you are now doing, and if you are really earnest in your wish to obtain an education, there'll be no great diffi- culty. It is perseverance and patience that overcome all obstacles, and I might be willing to assist you some, but think of it well, and make up your mind to persevere or not, to commence." "I'd be only too willin' but what would me mother do for a shelter for her head, and clothes, too, in the long yeaws I'd be larning it all, sir?" "Your mother, eh? well I well I let me think. You're right, Mich, in remembering your mother, let her always be first in your thoughts; but what can she do? TCan she sew nicely V" M. PIERCE AND MO H. 281 "Indade, she can, sir. She learned it all in the ould counthry; but it's any kind of work she's been thankful to get, to kape us from starvin' since Jonny died." "If she could only get some permanent situation or em- ployment, it would be much better for both of you, and then you could use the little you earn for yourself. There are places enough that she could get, if she were, only recom- mended. You talk' with her this evening, and if she would like to engage in, such occupation, I think I can help her to find work enough." "Ye're very kind, sir ; I'll spake wid me mother, but I'm afraid it's the pride 'I1 kape her from going to service. She niver did it in the ould counthry." "Mich, I don't think your mother would be so foolish as to reject any honorable employment that would give her a livelihood. Service here- is looked upon differently from what it is in your native country. She need not necessarily be a servant. She would not be obliged to do the menial work that she does now, but would be in a comfortable home and be well treated, besides receiving good wages if she secures a place, as I am sure she can." "I make no doubt she'd be glad to get such a place as ye spake of, and I'll mintion it to her this evening." "Very well, we'll let the matter rest then for the pre- sent," said Mr. Pierce, as he resumed his writing, and Mich retired to a corner with his book, but involuntarily his eyes would wander away. He could not keep his mind upon it. Years of toil and study were before him-but with his page: 282-283[View Page 282-283] 282 OLD H&UN, THE PAWNBROKER. vigorous efforts obstacles vanished. He looked into the future, he saw himself changed from the friendless youth into the favored of fortune. He then fixed his eyes upon a goal far distant in the future, and in his aftercourse never once swerved or faltered till that goal was won. But as Mich looked at his future self in imagination, he could not help looking at his present self, in fact, and he unconsciously drew a long breath and sighed. Mr. Pierce heard the sigh and involuntarily turned and looked at him, attracted by the expression of Mich's coun- tenance. He himself had been once poor, and obliged to depend upon his personal exertions to obtain his profession, and he could sympathize with Mich in his earnest longings to obtain that which now seemed so much beyond his reach. And as he looked upon the finely formed features of the lad, and noted the expression of intelligence, he felt confident that Mich would grow in favor ; and that the efforts that he himself might be disposed to make for Mich's advancement and improvement, would not be misplaced. Mr. Pierce had more in his mind that he had chosen to communicate to Mich, but on his return to his home in the evening, stated his wishes to his wife and Consulted with her concerning the propriety and expediency of offering to Mrs. Lynch a place in their own family as seamstress, if, upon 4seeing her they should be pleased with her appearance. Mrs. Pierce was in feeble health, having been, for years an invalid, and at once adopted the suggestion. She desired one who should not only do the work assigned, mechanically, MR. PIERCE AND MCH. 283 but who had age and experience sufficient to merit confi- J dence in other domestic departments. It was with a view to this arrangement that Mr. Pierce had proposed the matter to Mich, and the next morning, when the latter appeared with his mother, preliminaries were soon settled, and Mrs. Lynch prepared at once to become an inmate of Mr. Pierce's family in the capacity indicated to her. Mich progressed rapidly, in familiarizing himself ith the minor and less important details of business whiA were, after a little, entirely given up to him. He applied himself closely, studied hard, and remembered what he heard and read, and by the time the doctor and Anna returned from their northern tour, had become quite at home in his new situation. page: 284-285[View Page 284-285] 284 OLD HAUNI THE PAWNBROKER. CHAPTER XIII. THE ENCOUNTER. AN answer had been received by Mr. Pierce from his correspondent at New Orleans, during the absence of Doc- tor Foster, and he hastened to communicate to the latter, on his return, the contents of the letter. It was as follows: "Nlw ORLANs, Augs 8, i8,- "DANIEL IERBCE, Esq., New York. "DAR SIR: Your favor of 14th ult., was received yesterday. I find that a person by the name of William Leonard, and answering your description, died during the month of February last. He left quite a fortune, which, from the failure of direct heirs, has reverted to a relative by the name of James Cornell. He is a wild and reck- less young man. This is all that we have been able to learn thus far, but we will write again soon. "Your obedient servants, "E RoYT & BARNES." "Plain enough-that's her uncle' I am sure. Pierce, don't you think the mystery's being unravelled?" "Why, yes, I think so. I have no doubt that the THE, ENOO XNTER. 285 William Leonard, who is said to have died there, is the identical uncle of your ward, and that the property he left rightfully belongs to her." "She shall have it, thenj if my life is spared." "It is easy to- say it, but, you know, possession is nine points of the law, and we shall not be- able to obtain it without considerable difficulty, although I should imagine we might easily show her identity, and, besides, this Cornell may have: come into possession legally you see he is spoken of as a relative." ' How can that be?" "William Leonard may have devised it to him ; the fact that Leonard, was at variance with his sister, would. incline one to think so." "Don't believe it. 'It is not natural that one should for- get his own blood, and give all he has to strangers." "He may have supposed his nearer relatives dead ; and then, again, possibly this Cornell who is spoket of, may be quite as nearly related as your ward." "May be," said f'the doctor, contemptuously. "I have never heard his-name before, at any rate, and I know some- thing of the family." "Never mind, the truth can be easily ascertained; I pre- sume we shall soon hear from New Orleans again, and you see this letter was written soon after mine was received. But, doctor, what do you propose doing?1" "I intend the -child shall have all that, rightfully belongs to her." t Z / r* page: 286-287[View Page 286-287] 286 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "That, undoubtedly; but I mean what course do you propose to take?" "That I leave to you to advise, sir." "We must be sure of our ground before we commence anything, as, if we are to go into litigation, it may be a rather expensive proceeding." "What do I care for that? I've got enough and to spare, and the child shall not be wronged." "A good principle, undoubtedly, but we must use discre- tion and have patience ; for I assure you, doctor, affairs of this kind, are oftener things of eternity than of time. Although, as I remarked, I see no good reason why we may not in this case soon get to the truth of the matter." "Well, then, don't let us delay. What is to be first- done?" "I will write again to Le Roy & Barnes, stating fully the particulars of the case, and asking full details from them." "Do it at once, then; but, if anything should unex- pectedly come to your knowledge, don't fail to communi- cate," said the doctor, as he left the office. Mr. Pierce immediately wrote again to his correspondents in New Orleans, giving them further information aEd desir- ing them to institute a thorough investigation of the whole matter,' with a view to the commencement of legal proceed- ing to oust Cornell from the property, in case there should be sufficient grounds for believing him unawfully in posses. sion, and sufficient legal evidence to mntain an action. THE E N OUNTER. 287 Let us now return for awhile-to Haun, whom we saw after his perilous escape, and numerous trials and tribula- tions, finally safe on board of a vessel bound for Havana. His wig had received some damage in his rapid flight from the hands of the officer, and the grey locks had become slightly dishevelled, so that possibly thinking it unbecoming to' his. style of beauty, he slily set it afloat upon the water, and watched it bobbing up and down on the crests of the waves, like the head of a garrulous old, man, till it faded into a mere speck, and was lost 'to view. The voyage was stormy, and his sufferings were not only mentally but physically great. And when nearly ended, Haun, albeit somewhat reduced in flesh, and his ugliness not a whit improved, was glad to'see once more the blue line of mist in the distance showing that land was near. But his journeying was not yet ended, his sufferings not yet begun. Like Noah's weary dove, he had no abiding place away from New Orleans; that was his destination; there he would go, and he went. Tremblingly, fearfully he launched' again upon the waters, forghe had a hydrophobiacal fear of the element, and during his first voyage had done penance enough to atone for a multitude of sins, but the, second was attended with less uneasines and disquietude, and was, therefore, more agree- able to him. But fortune again favored him, or rather in spite of fortune he landed in due. time in New Orleans, and the haven of hia:pe was won. Haun proceeded, soon after his arrival, to seek out the l page: 288-289[View Page 288-289] 288 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. residence of Cornell, but to his great regret the latter was temporarily absent from the city, although expected back in a few days. He surveyed the costly residence of Cornell, and examined the luxurious appliances which use and habit had made necessary, evidences of reckless extravagance, and-he smiled sardonically, for it gave him confidence. If Cornell had been found living in humble style and plodding economically along, Haun would have had less confidence of success in the scheme which he had jaamtured. It was not, however, with- out alarm that he recollected the loss of his coat and the package of papers; but on examining a private pocket, in which he was accustomed to carry his more valuable papers, he had found the one he needed safe. "He depended, nevertheless, more upon the knowledge of Cornells private matters, which he had obtained, to inti- midate or persuade, rather than to avail himself of any coercive measures. But as he could do nothing towards the advancement of his object until Cornell's return, he cast about him for any little opportunities that might providentially present them- selves for him to turn an honest penny, for 'he could not endure idleness, nor bear inactivity. However, the month of September had nearly worn away, and Hann had waited impatiently, when on a certain day, as he strolled listlessly past the house of Cornell, as was his regular custom, occasionally casting an eye up to the win- dows, to discover, if possible, some familiar face, his atten- THE ENCOUNTER. 289 tion was arrested by the rattling of wheels, and turning to look, a carriage richly decorated stopped at the door, and Cornell, leaping from it, hastened into the house. Haun recognized him on the instant, and- partly stopped, and debated in his own mind, whether he should enter and seek an interview at once, or wait until the morrow.. He deter- mined to wait, and taking another long look at the house and the carriage, walked hastily on, and sought his own lodging. At a late hour of the morning, Haun prepared for an inter- view with Cornell. He had thought over the matter during the night, and concluded that with the available force that he had at his command, diplomacy was his only resort.. His strength was now a forlorn hope. So loig as he had pos- session of the person of the legal heir, he considered his, position impregnable; but the storms of adversity had shaken it, and now he came with the simplb written acknow- ledgment of Cornell, and hoped with that alone to force a submission to the terms which he might dictate. Haun went boldly to the door. He had taken some pains to improve his outer mlan, and had doffed the sombre garb and formal cut of the Quaker, in which dress he had made his exit from New York, and had patronized a dealer in second-hand clothes, from whom he had purchased a suit of black. He had also, in the excess- of his prodigality, bought, at a great bargain, a white cravat, so that he might, in his new dress, have been taken by the superficial 13 page: 290-291[View Page 290-291] 290 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. -observer as the shepherd of a flock, rather than what he really was, a wolf in sheep's clothing. The door was quickly opened by a servant in nature's livery, from whose face the rays of the morning sun glanced, as he politely desired to know the pleasure of the visitor. Haun replied by asking, if his master was at home anal expressing a wish to see him. He was informed that Cornell had not yet come down from his room, and was invited to take a seat, while the servant would present his name and learn whether his master wished to be seen. But oann had no idea of having his name heralded in advance of himself, and thus perhaps, run the risk of being refused an audience; and therefore, saying to the servant that it was all right-that his master was waiting for him-told him to lead the way. The servant reluctantly and hesitat- ingly complied ; and closely followed by Haun, proceeded to his master's room, and rapping gently, opened the door ; but before he had time to speak, Haun pushed rudely past him, and entered. Cornell, with a lighted cigar between his lips, was reclin- ing luxuriously upon a sofa, and watching the smoke as it gently Tose and wreathed itself above his head. But at the sound, he indolently turne:d his eyes towards the door, and catchiPg an imperfect view of the intruder, turned still father to look, and then as he permitted his lighted cigar to fall unnoticed upon the floor, abruptly rose and stood fac to face with his old acquaintance the pawnbroker. - T'H .. ' O 6 T NTRa, ]91 The blood for an instant left Cornell's face, and tin returned again as he attempted to smile, but the' smile degenerated into a convulsive distortion of his features; and he advanced a few steps and extended his hand, exclaiming, with pretended warmth: a"Haun I is it possible?"' It's no Gther," Haun answered, confidently. "When did you come?" . "Not long ago," was the curt reply. "How did you leave all of our friends?" continuedf Cornell, with a meaning emphasis on the last word. "All that you feel any interest in are well,'answered Haun, maliciously--and then added after apause, "perhaps you didn't expect me here." "Yes. I received your letter." "Then, as you know my object in coming, we had better proceed to business at once." "As well now as at any time. But what is it that you want?" - You know onr bargain. "I haven't forgotten it." " Nor the written agreement yoa exiated?' "Certainly not, nor anything else connected with it, o go on?" "Then, as your memory is so good we'll spend o 'time in preliminaries-l came on business." "So I suppose, or else I should hae directed my servant page: 292-293[View Page 292-293] 292 OLtD AUN, THE PAWNBROKER. to show you the door," replied Cornell, in his usual noncha- lant manner. "You'd better not be too hasty." "Don't troublosyourself to advise-come, what do you wish of me?" "You remember the bond you executed?" "I believe I have just mentioned to you that I do, shall I say it again?" "That bond was for the payment of ten thousand dollars." ' I haven't forgotten that either, now if you've got any- thing farther to say, why say- it?" "I will ; I am in want of money." "Undoubtedlyl I never knew a time when you were not o "And I must have it." "That is, if you can get it." "Are you prepared to pay me the ten thousand dollars?" "Now you begin to come to the point: you recollect the letter that you wrote, informing me you had' discovered the child and had her under your control, and should as guar- dian enforce her claim, and that you released me from my obligation as you preferred to take the whole to a part. Now, sir, do you suppose that I shall pay you this amount for nothing? No, sir." "You had better consider well before -making up your mind, as you might want to change when too late." * THE ENCOUNTER. 293 "I tell you again, don't advise me ; when I am in want of advice from you I'll ask for it. I have considered. There was a time when I was willing to pay you the amount, and it's not long since either, but I am wiser now, and have only to say that if you wish payment of the bond, you must find a way to get it." "I will find a way, and that sooner than you expect; you shall be turned out of your own doors into the street, ,and the legal heir shall claim her own, mark my words." "Legal heir I where is she? Why don't you produce her, man? You said you would.- I wonder that you'll conde- scend to beg when you have s h power in your hands. I have less faith in you now than ever. In other words, man, I believe you lie." "You will repent your words, the longest day you live," said Haun, while his face. became- livid with sup- pressed rage. "That may be," Cornell answered, " but there'll be time enough for repentance whe. there's cause for it." "There's cause for it now, as you'll find to your sorrow ; there's cause for it so long as I have in my possession this instrument," said Haun, as he drew from his pocket the bond executed by Cornell, and shook it before his eyes. "This shall publish to the world the nefarious bargain by which you have wronged a child: before to-morrow night your name shall be posted on the corners of the street." "You dare not do it l" exclaimed Cornell, approaching Haun and glaring-upon him.- Haun sat unmoved, but page: 294-295[View Page 294-295] 294 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. the firmly closed lips and the unshrinking eye that returned Cornell's look, told plainly the desperate passions that were at work. After a moment's pause, as if controlling himself with an effort, Haun said, in a calm voice, "Cornell, you ought to have learned by this time that I am not a man to be trifled with. Now, I have come from New York for the purpose of receiving my share of the profits of our joint speculation-this I must have; therefore, once for all I ask you, will you pay me the amount agreed upon, willingly or not?" "No, I will not," said Cornell, violently. "Then take the consequences," Haun replied, as he arose and attempted to pass Cornell, with the intention of leaving the house. "Damned villain, would you betray me?" shouted Cor- ,nell, as he sprang lightly before Haun, and intercepted his passage through the door. Haun pushed him roughly aside and strode on, but Cornell, grasping him by the throat, exclaimed, "You must give me that bond before you leave this house." "Let go your hold." "Give me that bond." "Never 1 "Then, I'll take it. "Unloose, I say 1" yelled Haun, as he seized Cornell's hands and tried to wring them loose ; but the muscular arm and firmly built frame of Cornell, was more than a match for the superior size of Haun. The latter turned, and THE ENCOUNTER. 295 writhed, and endeavored to shake off the grasp of Cornell- who had worked his hand under the cravat of Haun, and hung to it with the tenacity of a bull-dog. "Once more, will you give me that bond? asked Cornell. - Never 1V was still the sullen reply. Cornell commenced twisting the neckcloth, and tightening his grasp, until Haun began to -breathe with difficulty, but finally, with an effort, he said- "Cornell, I am-a-desperate man-loosen-your hold, or there'll be--bloodshed," -at the same time putting his hand to the back of his head, he drew from under his coat a heavy bowie-knife, and raised its glittering blade high in the air. "Don't threaten, but hand me that paper," said Cornell, giving the neckcloth still another turn, either not observing, or in his rage disregarding, the threatening weapon raised above him. Haun began to grow black in the face, and rising on his toes to give force to the blow, struck with his utmost strength. Cornell saw the blow coming, and adroitly parried it with his hand: becoming now perfectly insane with passion, he threw himself madly upon his antagonist, still retaining a hold of the cravat. The impetus brought both of them upon the floor, and caused a slight relaxation of 'Cornell's hold. Haun felt his strength leaving him, and making one more desperate lunge, drove the knife to its very hilt into the breast of Cornell. Cornell's hold relaxed, and he, fell lifeless upon Haun,; page: 296-297[View Page 296-297] 296 OLD HAUN, THE?AWNBROKER. who, with his remaining strength, threw the body from him, and exclaiming- "Your blood be on your own head; you would have it so," rose, and standing a moment to gather his exhausted energies, left the knife still sticking in the ghastly wound it had made, leaped into the hall and down the stairs, and bounded towards the door. He hastily attempted to open it, but to his dismay it was locked. - He cast his eyes quickly around for some other mode of egress, and fortu. nately 'discovered a window opening upon a piazza ; he eagerly tried to raise it, but it resisted his attempts. There was no time to be lost, for the servants had become alarmed, and were running up from below. He put his foot against the sash, and with a crash, sash and glass fell jin- gling to the ground. He jumped through the opening, and landed in safety. Glancing hastily around, he started. "Dere he goes, dere be goes ; catch him 1" exclaimed a voice, while half a dozen horror-stricken ebony faces were protruding from the window, through which Haun had leaped. i' Whah, whah? let dis chile come, he'll be arter him," echoed the voice of another outside of the house. It was that of the servant who had admitted Haun, and who, in the commencement of the affray, had run to seek a policeman, but who was still unaware of the fatal termina- tion of the conflict. "Dere I down dat alley, quick de Lord sakes," answered the first speaker, as he indicated with his finger the direc- THE ENCOUNTER. 297 tion Haun had taken. The slight delay gave vantage to the, fugitive, who sped away on the wings of the wind. The servant and the policeman pursued', the latter making a sig- nal for assistance. They saw Haun running with his utmost speed, and occasionally turning his head, to see if he was pursued. The officer, more accustomed to the exercise, soon distanced his colored assistant, and rapidly gained on the fugitive, who, conscious that he was losing the race, looked eagerly about for some hiding-place, or egress from the alley. He dared not venture into the public street, and his only hope of escape was in eluding his pursuers, by finding some place of concealment; but none presented, and his strength was fast failing. He heard the policeman, now distant only a couple of rods, callrto him to stop. He heeded it not, but gathering his last energies sped madly on. But he was unequal to the exertion. He swayed unsteadily from side to side; his -limbs began to tremble; his throat was parched, his breath short and labored; still he hoped for some place of escape. Once again he heard the cry " stop!" so distinctly that it seemed shouted in his ear. He turned his head partly round, and saw at a glance that his pursuer was almost by his side, and that there were others following, at unequal distances, after. He had -not taken a dozen steps farther, when a stunning, crashing blow fell upon the side of his head, and, reeling an instant, he sank heavily to the ground. At the same moment, the policeman, with his baton i..his- hand, and panting for. breath, stood over him. 18* page: 298-299[View Page 298-299] HAUJ N THE PAWNBROKER. "Well, Jake ! the old cuss gave us a pretty hard run, didn't he ?" said the first policeman to another who had just come up. "Yes, I didn't think he had bottom enough, but see, he's all bone and muscle. Haven't settled him, have you ?" "No only taken the wind out of his sails." "Bleeds like a hog." " Yes, but it was his own fault. I called to him to stop, but he wouldn't; meant to die game, I suppose; so, I thought I'd just tip him under the ear; but, somehow, he turned his head, and made it awkward striking." " Served him right, for not holding still like a gentleman; but, I guess, he'll live to be hung yet," said the speaker, turning him over with his foot; " but hadn't you better stop his bleeding ?" " No, it'll do him good ; no hurry about it." "What's he been doing ?" " I don't exactly know myself, only that he was kicking up some sort of a row in a gentleman's house. I was sent for, and when I got there, would you believe it, he was jump- ing out of a window, as spry as a young kitten. I knew there was something up, although I didn't stop to see what, and so I followed on after hin as fast as ever I could; but I shouldn't wonder if it was something more'n common, from the noise they made down there. Have you such a thing as a cord about you " "No ; what in thunder do you want of one 7" I T H ' E N C U U N T E R. 29.9 "Want of one I you don't think I'm going to carry him all the way to the calaboose, nor that I'm going to stay here all day, to wait till he's a mind to start, do you ?" "I don't beliere that you'll want any cords for some time." "Won't eh ? did you hear that-? he's coming to already." "Fact, I do believe," exclaimed the other policeman, as he gave Haun a punch in the ribs to test his vitality. The latter drew a long breath, and opening his eyes slowly, looked around with a bewildered air, and immediately closed them again. "I say, Jake, you just go through to the next street, and see if you can find a dray, and come back as soon as yo'i can. I suppose, we'll have to treat him to a ride after all, and the sooner the better, as I'm tired of staying here." The person addressed did as desired, and soon returned with a truck, on which iHaun was not very gently placed. He had regained consciousness, but was still entirely ex- hausted, both from over exertion and loss of blood. In this manner he was conveyed through the city to the usual place of confinement, and delivered by the policeman into the hands of the proper officer, to whom the particulars of his offence had already been Communicated. And so Haun, the avaricious, cunning, plotting Haun, within the dreary walls of a dungeon, meditated upon the fallibility of human anticipations. And Cornell, unstable, impulsive ,but misguided Cornell, lay with the death damp gathering on his brow, his race of pleasure run. page: 300-301[View Page 300-301] 30 0LrD HAUN N THE PAWNBROKER. After his encounter with Haun, he had been raised insen- sible from the floor, and gently laid upon a bed where his life ebbed with the blood that still rippled slowly from the wound. All was confusion in the house, and no one seemed for a time to know what course to tlake, but order was finally partially restored, and a surgeon sent for. Fortunately one was immediately found and came at once. On examination he found that Cornell was bleedin internally-the -knife having in its passage, as he judgedrom the direction of the wound, slightly grazed the hea, atd that he could live but a short time As the surgeon concluded his examination, Cornell opened his eyes and in a faint voice said: "What is the prospect?" "It's a serious wound," the surgeon replied, shaking his head doubtfully. "Is it dangerous?" "I will not attempt to deceive you, the chances are against you." "The villain, if I could only live to see him suffer for it." The continued hemorrhage caused Cornell again to swoon, and on reviving, he exclaimed: "Doctor, I feel that I am done for, now tell me how long I can live 1" "Don't be alarmed unnecessarily, while there's life there's hope," said the surgeon, endeaYoring to inspire a confidence yrgacfiee THE ENC(C NTER. 301 which he himself did not feel-and added, "you must keep as quiet as possible." "It will make no difference, my time has come. I have something on my mind that I want to disclose." "You had better keep quiet," said the surgeon. "No! I wil not die without undoing the wrong I have done. Bring a lawyer, he'll understand the matter better." "i will go myself, -there's one lives near a friend of mine." "No, don't you- leave me, send some one." The surgeon, then dispatched one of the- servants for the. attorney living near, a friend of his own, and who happened fortunately to be Mr. Barnes, of the firm of Le Roy and Barnes. He came at once, and as he entered the room, his name was mentioned to the wounded man, who exclaimed faintly, "Come here, nearer-let the room be cleared. I have something that I want to leave in your charge, some. thing that I want you to attend to after I am gone. Now, listen." Cornell then proceeded to relate the manner of his become ing possessed of the property that he then had-who and where the-rightful owner was-where all papers connected with the estate could be found--who had participated with him, and aided in concocting the scheme, and in -fine related all the particulars of his connection with the plot, which had deprived the orphan of her heritage, until his failing strength obliged him for a moment to cease. Mr. Barnes took advantage of the interruption to remark, page: 302-303[View Page 302-303] 302 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "If it would ease your mind to know that the child who has been wronged is now living, you may rely upon myassertion of the fact. How inscrutable are the ways of Providence I Can you answer me one more question, which will make my labors easier in complying with your request? Where is " The attorney cast his eyes upon the face of Cornell, as he ' was about to ask the last question, and noticing a great change, called to the surgeon. who had retired a short dis- tance from the bedside. He hurriedly approached, and put his ear near to the mouth of the wounded man, at the same time taking his wrist to feel his pulse. "He lives," the doctor answered, to the inquiring look of the attorney, but at the instant Cornell partly raised himself from the pillow, and gave a convulsive sob-a rattling in the throat was for an instant heard-a quivering of the limbs-and all was still. The two stood a moment by the bed-side, and gazed on the face of the dead, and with a deep- drawn sigh, slowly, and reverently turned away. HA UN IN PRISON. 303 CHAPTER XIV. HAU N IN PRISON. WE have said that Haun gazed through the gratings of a dungeon upon the glories of his imaginary Paradise-a Paradise he was never to enjoy ; but he did not bear with meekness his change of fortune. The dull monotony of the hours which passed slowly away, seemed to oppress him, and he longed for freedom. Immediately after his arrest and a preliminary examination, he had been committed on a charge of murder, to take his trial at the next term of the court. It was, however, the season of the year when the courts were not in session, and he saw before him the prospect of a long imprisonment before he could even have his trial, but beyond his trial he did not allow his thoughts to roam. To him, in his solitary cell, time moved slowly. He sought companionship with some of the officials who were- obliged daily to visit:i ;" but all efforts failed-no one seemed to have been favorably prepossessed. By day it was lonely, but during the long and dreary nights it was still worse. He had no remorse of- conscience, and therefore was not goaded by its stings ; but fear usurped its place, and in solitude he page: 304-305[View Page 304-305] HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. became a coward. His sleep was fitful, and disturbed by frightful dreams. At first he bore up with a sort of bravado, and assumed a reckless air, but that soon disap- peared; and his altered manner and haggard lo.k showed the feelings that preyed upon him. Finding his servile efforts to make friends of his keepers vain, he sank into a taciturn and despondent mood. But his was not the will to tamely and supinely submit, without an effort for freedom-to lie down and be crushed, without attempting to rise and throw off the burthen. He hugged the hope of escape, and hourly revolved in his mind plans for effecting his purpose. He thought of bribing the jailor, but his valuables had been taken from him and retained. He thought of knocking him down, and thus get- ting possession of the keys ; but this project was abandoned. He thought of burrowing through the walls, but when he sounded the sides of his cell and felt the solid masonry, that neither moved nor vibrated under his blow, his heart sank: but there was the door of his cell, secured by perpendicular iron bars, if he could only wrench out one of them. As the thought flashed through his mind, he crept stealthily towards it, and grasping with both hands, shook it with his whole strength ; but it was as firm as the rock of Gibralter. His hands dropped in despair, and he .turned and paced to and fro, but he could not keep his thoughts from it. He returned and seized the middle bar again, and attempted aggai to move it-first, literally, and then perpendicularly He stops, and his cadaverous face flushes. He draws a long breath,:and waits to listen-no one is near :., he applies his utmost strength once more, and now he is certain of it-- it moves; he can raise the bar partly from its socket, but not entirely out. His strength is exhausted from emotion and exertion. Returning to the farther corner of his cell, h, sinks into his chair, and gazes at the door, like a miser watching his treasure. If he had but a file to enlarge the socket of the. bar, or to file away the iron base into which it was fitted, how easy his labor would be. He searched every corner of his cell, but not a thing-not even a splinter of wood could he discover. He glanced at his chair, and raised it abstractedly in his hand, thinking whether he could not use it as a lever.: as he -raise I it aloft, he perceived an iron screw on the underide, which had evidently been used to secure in its place one of the legs. With what joy did he observe it, and with what patient and untiring perseverance did he worm it out with his fingers, from the hard wood into which it was embedded. How he worked night after night, cautiously and silently, depriving- himself of sleep and rest, to wear away little by little the iron support which sustained the upright bar; and with what a fever of anxiety did he watch his progress, until after weeks of toil his labors were ended. He could raise the bar from its socket, and by the application of his utmost strength, could bend the end sufficiently to admit the passage of his lank form through the aperture so made. His next care was to partially replace everything, so as to con- page: 306-307[View Page 306-307] 306 OLD HRAXU, THE PAWNBROKER. ceal his attempt from the prying eyes of the officials ; in this there was no great difficulty. And, now, Haun was urged to haste by the consciousness that the term of the court was near when he should have his trial; a short delay, and his labors would be vain. He waited now only for a stormy night, that he might effect his purpose. It soon came - A tempestuous day was succeeded by a night of Egyptian darkness, while the gale of wind that came from seaward brought torrents of rain, Haun listened with delight to the hoarse howling of the wind, as it rushed round the corners of his prison. Never was the gentle breeze of Spring sweeter or dearer to him, than the angry gusts of the tempest that raged without. Notwithstanding the violent pattering of the rain, he could hear the hour of night distinctly sounded from a neighboring clock. He counted the strokes as hour after hour sounded, till midnight came, and then he nerved himself for the effort. Bending aside the iron bar, and urging his body through the aperture,- he stood in the corridor-all was gloomy and- silent. He groped along until he reached a window. He put out his hand to feel his way, but it fell upon the cold, rough surface of iron. He had overcome one obstacle, to meet another more formidable. But he had no time to lose in vain regrets. Again he passed his hand around the casing of the window, and discovered that the lower half of the -window was latticed, but that the upper half was secured only by horizontal bars at some distance from each other. He stood a moment irresolute, B- U N -I N PRXISOX. .: - 307 anid then softly and quickly returned toahis cell,:and reach- ing in his long bony arm, seized the- chair and brought it forth. As he started back, a prisoner in an adjoining cell turned restlessly and groaned in his sleep. Haun stood a moment breathless, but hearing nothing farther, passed on. His resolution was quickly taken. The upper- part of the sash had been let down for the free admission of air, and placing the chair under the window, he mounted it, and, with a great effort, by turning his head sideways, succeeded in getting it between the parallel bars; but his labor was not half done-his body had yet to follow. Reaching up, and seizing one of the rods in each hand, he endeavored to press them apart sufficiently to admit his body; but in his anxiety and eagerness he forgot the frail support on which he stood-and, as he wrestled with the iron, he braced him- self firmly against the chair, but bearing his weight unguardedly upon the side, it tilted, and tottered, and fell, and Haunlwas left suspended in mid air. He held with the clutch of desperation to the bar, endeavoring to support himself and striving to cry for help; but the howling blast bore away the sound of his voice, and the falling rain drowned his half-stifled cries. He felt his strength failing him. He could no longer support himself-he was suffo- cating. *His arms relaxed-his hands unclasped. He was dead I In the morning when the jailor entered, he started back in alarm on seeing the gaunt form of his late prisoner suspended by the neck. Snummoning assistance, he with page: 308-309[View Page 308-309] 308 OLD H&UN, THE PAWNBROKER. great effort extricated the lifeless body and quietly returned it to its cell ; this done, he gave the alarm that the prisoner had committed suicide, and fabricated a story, varying in many important particulars from the truth. For he feared to have it known that Haun had partially succeeded in effecting his escape, as this fact would have reflected unfavorably upon his own vigilance. As soon as possible the body was removed to the public burial-ground, and without ceremony placed in a rough box and hastily interred. The effects left by the deceased and which were of consider- able value, were taken charge of by the proper authority, and as no heir ever appeared to substantiate any claim as such, they finally went into the coffers of the State. As soon as possible after the death of Cornell, a full account of the circumstances attending the same, and of the revelations made by him, was transmitted by Mr. Barnes the attorney to Mr. Pierce, with the suggestion that some suitable person should at once be sent with full power to take charge of the estate. This communication was received by Mr. Pierce about the first of October, and he immediate- ly laid before his client, Doctor Foster, the information which had thus come to his knowledge. The latter was overcome by his emotion on becoming fully possessed of the ficts which, though simple and common in themselves, were yet the means whereby the designs of the conspirators had been frustrated and their dark plottings revealed. Their own evil passions had done what the agency of man might have been long in accomplishing. The course to be taken HAITN IN PRISON. 309 was simple. It was necessary that some one should go at once to take charge of the estate, and after consultation with his legal adviser, the doctor concluded that he himself would go, taking his adopted daughter with him, and see personally to the proper disposition of the matter. Arrangements were easily- made; and according to the deliberate advice of his attorney, Doctor Foster started with his ward for New Orleans, in order that he might put 'her into legal possession of her estate. They travelled rapidly and soon reached their destination, and -with the assistance of Mr. Barnes, who .took great interest in the matter, the necessary steps were taken and everything was speedily and successfully arranged. Their stay was short; ;and as soon as the business that called them there could be concluded, they took a cordial leave of Mr. Barnes, having first made to him suitable acknowledgments, for the great services he had rendered, and after a long but not unpleasant trip again sat beneath the shade of their own vine and fig tree, and rested them- selves from the fatigues of their journey. With the aid and advice of a female friend, the doctor had selected a seminarr of learning where he had thought best to place his ward, for the purpose of enabling her to perfect herself, not only i-i the more- solid parts of a finished education, but alsd in those lighter accomplishments which give grace to the manners and beauty to the mind, The dottor's time, at- first hung heavily after her depar- ture, and he missed his accustomed kiss on his return from page: 310-311[View Page 310-311] 310 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. the labors of the day, but by having her come often to visit him, he became finally habituated to the change. The substantial basis on which the rudiments of her education had been commenced, enabled her to make rapid progress. The doctor noticed with satisfaction her rapid advance- ment and unusual proficiency, and his generous heart yearned toward the child that he had made his own, while his ardent affection-was not unreciprocated by the object of his love. Mich took the occasion of Anna's frequent visits home to see her, but he was not by any means pleased to find Edward Randall also on terms of intimacy; and a pang of jealousy shot through his heart at the thought of her affections being shared by another. Young and inexperienced as he was , in the ways of the world, yet he felt the pang-Nature taught it. His boyish rival, of whom we have once before made men- tion as the son of the Rev. Mr. Randall, was a student at school and engaged in preparing himself for college. It was the desire of his father that the son should follow his own profession, but to this there was an aversion. Even at that early age the son had- pmhiited such a reckless spirit, and such a fondnws for the pomps and vanities of this world, that it might have been evident that his. practice would be incompatible with his preaching, even if he were to embrace the sacred profession. Mich continued in the service of Mr. Pierce, and rose daily in his estimaton. Mr. Pierce had thought proper to HAUN IN PRISON. 3" offer Mich some advantages of school, and the latter as a partial compensation still devoted his mornings and evenings as before to the duties of the office. Every leisure hour was occupied, and thus by close application he was soon able to compete with others of the same age who had enjoyed advantages far superior to his own. But it would not interest our readers to follow the youth- ful students through their daily routine during the years devoted to study. Each had his trials and pleasures, but the life of neither was, marked by any unusual event. Years passed without producing any material change-except that which time must always bring-the change of youth into manhood-of manhood into old age-and of old 'ra into its original dust / page: 312-313[View Page 312-313] 312 OLD HAU1N, THE PAWNHBROKER. CHAPTER XV. NOON-DAY OF LIFE. SEVEN years have passed since we bade our friends adieu. But these seven years have left their indelible impress upon the looks, manners, and character of those in whom we are most interested. It is Anna Hervey's eighteenth birthday, when we meet again, after this long lapse of time. She has reached the age when she should come into possession of the property left her. She is in the bloom of womanhood, and possessed, in an unusual degree, of the graces of mind and person, which endear woman to those who surrounnd her. Beautiful, accomplished and intelligent, Doctor Foster's ward was the ornament of the circle in which she moved. For her benefit, her guardian bad changed his residence some years before, to a more desirable part of the city. Biddy had gone to cheer the home of one of her country- men, and her duties were now performed by other and more experienced servants. NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 313 Anna was surrounded by all those elegancies her educa- tion had fitted her to enjoy, and which her wealth warranted her in possessing. Her wiSH had been, for a long time, "AW with the worthy doctor. She- had but to name a desire, and if within the range of possibilities, it was imme- diately gratified. His health, of late, had not been good, and he had partially resigned the practice of his profession, devoting his time, almost exclusively, to the interests and amusements of his ward. The vacations of school had been spent in travelling; they had visited, together, places of fashionable resort, and the many scenes interesting for beauty or association, with which our own favored countrv abounds. Both by reading and observation Anna stored her mind with a rich fund of information thus furnishing her- self with material, for the display of woman's rarest, but most valuable, accomplishment-easy and intelligent con- versation. The school-days were over, and she was this evening, as a woman, to receive her friends for the' first time. The fitful, changing sky of an April day, was glowing in all the beauty of a brilliant sunset, as she entered the par- lor, attired for the evening. Slowly and thoughtfully she paced the elegantly-furnished room. The buried past appeared before her there. The memory of her gentle, lov- ing mother, and fond father, rushed upon her, and the wish that they were here to wander forth with her, side by side, into the untried world upon wpich she was now entering, was breathed forth in the long and deep-drawn sigh that " page: 314-315[View Page 314-315] 314 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. escaped her. She had thought herself alone, and started when she heard the voice of her guardian saying: "Sighing I Is there anything in this wide world that Anna Hervey wants, that she does not now possess V? "Why, doctor I you here? Where are you concealed? Ah I I see, watching the sunset. It is beautiful, is it not?" "Yes, but you have not answered my question. Have you a desire ungratified? This is your birth-day, and it ought to be a happy one." "It is; you, my dearest friend, have left nothing for me to desire-; but, you know, that even in our happiest hours, a feeling of sadness will sometimes intrude." 1"Yes, yes-so it is. But what made you sigh, then? Tell me, Anna," said the doctor, drawing her tenderly towards him, as he stood within the folds of the heavy cur- tains that shrouded the window. "I can scarcely define my feelings. I was thinking of the present, and also of the future for me; and wondered whether my happiness was to continue. Not a cloud dims my horizon ; but can it last? thought I. This is a world of vicissitudes; change may come to me as well as to others. And then, my mind travelled back through the many scenes of my life. True, it is short; but has it not been eventful? I thought of the time when you took me and my dying mother under your protection; and .then the wish arose in my heart, that she had been spared to gather with me the fruits of your kindnesa" SNOON-DAY OF LIFE; "Not mine, Anna ; you forget that all this you are . enjoying, is bought with your own; that I am your guest; I am the benefitted, not the benefactor." "Through whose instrumentality have I been put in pos- session of all this? Who-has loved and protected me through the years that have passed, since I was left an orphan? Can money buy affection? No I no I do not say that again. Are you not father, friend, all that I have in the world to cling to? Have not I seen those locks grow grey and thin, since I first received your love? and am I less dear now, that I can evince my affection for you, and my gratitude for your kindness, than when, as a hungry and ragged child, you first fed and clothed me?, "No, no, Anna, child I you know it is not so., But don't speak of what I have done for you; you know I have done no more than any one else would. You have paid me a thousand times by your kindness and affection. But what should I have been without you?-a lonely old man." "You flatter, doctor ; but, I hope, you will never speak: Again of being my guest, for I shall certainly think you are tired of your charge.?' "Humph I well, I flatter you, do I? just come and look at yourself ;" and he led her before a large mirror. There for one instant they stood, gazing at each other as they were reflected from the glass-and well they might--for it was as fine a picture as ever painter's skill portrayed.' Her tall and gaceful figure, arrayed in a robe of snowy page: 316-317[View Page 316-317] 316 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. satin, looked more symmetrical, still, as contrasted with the robust form of the plainly, but well-dressed doctor. The wealth of glossy brown hair was simply bound about her head, without ornament, leaving the broad forehead, ever- varying cheek, and deep earnest eyes, to tell the beholder of the affection, purity and intellect enshrined there. "What do you say? do I flatter? No, Anna ; Nature has dealt bounteously with you. Your beauty will give you power; but I am not afraid that Anna Hervey will use that power unworthily." "No, I trust not. It would be affectation in me to seem ignorant of my own powers and qualities. But, I hope, I never shall become vain of the form that God has given me. It is something that I did not give myself, and, conse- quently, there is no merit in possessing it. A pride in what, through my own exertions, I have been able to obtain, is much more likely to be my fault." "Humph-pride-well, is not that justifiable? I think, it is, in a degree." "Perhap so ; but, I think, the more we learn, the more we know and feel our deficiencies; and if one of the wisest of men felt, after a long life spent in search of knowledge, that he was ' like a boy playing with the pebbles upon the shore, while the ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before him,' what have I a girl of eighteen years to be proud of?" "You are right, Anna, this life is but the primary school; we lean here but the alphabet, by which, in eternity, we NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 317 may read things, now wisely hidden from us. But away now with all sad and serious thoughts-be gay-for I hear your friends are already arriving." "So I see. I hope you will- be gay too. I want every one should be happy around me to-night, and, as a presage of gaiety, here comes Edward's laughing face," "Good evening; Mr. Randall-we drop the Edward for this evening, as we take upon ourselves the. title of Miss Hervey. We emerge from the chrysalis of girlhood to- night." "Ah, indeed right royally you receive. You put off the mortal, do you, and take to yourself wings? I cannot offend, surely, then, if I worship the angel-the queen ' "If I were an angel, I certainly would not care for the homage of one so far beneath me, as a mortal. If a queen, your worship is by far too familiar." "Be mortal then, and your own sweet self, for both queen and angel are then combined, and I will worship devoutly here," said Randall, in whispered tones. "You are an incorrigible flatterer, Edward, you will for- get how to be sincere-if you do not practise sincerity oftener." - "Never was more sincere in my life, I assure you." "You were never more foolish, that is a certainty-but now leave your nonsense--here- come some of my friends,. I wish to introduce them to you-so do try and be sensible for one evening," "You hard-hearted creature," whispered young Randall, page: 318-319[View Page 318-319] 318 OLD HAUN, THE?AW NBROKER. as some of the guests approached. Soon the rooms began to fiU--laughter and gaiety prevailed. The youthful hostess by her own bright and sparkling sallies, and grace- ful courtesy, made all feel at ease. Music and dancing soon were introduced, in which nearly all present engaged. Anna looked about in search of the doctor-and found him seated by a fair young girl, chatting in an unusually cheer- ful vein-and said gaily: "You are well cared for, I see--now be careful, doctor, or you will lose your heart." "I presume there is danger-but wait one moment, Anna, I want to speak. with you," said the doctor, rising and following Anna, who had immediately turned away, after finding that he was entertained. "What is it? You look troubled," said Anna. "Not troubled. But why is not Mich here? You surely did not forget to send him an invitation." "Forget him I most certainly not-I presume he will be here. It is not late." "What is it? can I be of service?" said Edward Ran- dall approaching. "No I the doctor thought I must have forgotten to send an invitation to Mr. Lynch-as he has not come--but I pre- sume he is coming, as I have received no intimation to the contrary." "I should doubt it very much," said Randall, with a slight sneer. "Why? Have you seen him?" said Anna. NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 319 "No-I do not often see him. Are you and he as firm friends as ever? I have not met him here in a long time." Certainly we are--he has not called very often of late- but you know he has been studying very hard. He was admitted to the bar a short time ago." "Ah-indeed! so he has become a lawyer? I was not aware of that circumstance." "Mr. Pierce says he gives the- promise of becoming a very successful one too." '"Indeed- you are very much interested in him I see. I think I should be willing to become a pauper emigrant, if by so doing, I could awaken a similar interest." "I should be -very ungrateful, indeed, if I did not feel a warm interest in the success of one who has always been a kind friend. But you must allow me to say that I think the epithet applied to him unjust,and ill-natured. He was an emigrant it is true--but no more a pauper than my- self. For the circumstances in which- we are, placed in early life, we are-not responsible. If by-perseverance in the cultivation of his mind, and by his own efforts, he has elevated himself in the scale of society, he deserves so much the more our esteem." "Anna, I beg your pardon-I did not intend to offend you. I was not aware that he was so dear a friend." "Equally so with your own family-you know the date of our first acquaintance-and must understand me well enough to know that I will not allow my friends to- be spoken disparagingly of in my presence.' page: 320-321[View Page 320-321] 3920 OLD HAUX, THE ' PAWNBROKER. "Am I forgiven? I assure you I intended nothing dis- respectful to him. The fact of his being your friend, is enough for him to gain my favor--aside from his own merits." "He needs not that to gain any one's friendship. But I believe you never liked him very much.' Is it not so?" "Why should you think so? Years ago you know, I often met him at your house, but since my return from college I have scarcely seen him. I have no cause to dislike him that I am aware of." "No, I should suppose not; but why are you not danc- ing?" "May I have the pleasure of dancing with you?" "Not now-there are others who may like to dance; come, let me introduce you to that pretty girl who is talk- ing, with the doctor. He will resign her to you." "I do not care to dance, if I may be allowed to bask in the light of your eyes." "The light of my eyes must be reflected in another part of the room just at present--so you must excuse me." "It is darkness when you are away." "Edward, do change your strain ; it is becoming mono- tonous," said Anna, as she walked away to a group of per- sons who stood near the doorway. Edward remained for one moment gazing after her, while a strange expression flitted over his countenance, as he thought of what she had said of Mich. But then, the boldness with which she acknowledged her interest in him, could only be NOON-DAY 'OF LIFE. v31 dictated by feelings of friendship, he well know. He would take care that they did not become of a more- tender nature. To obtain the possession of all this wealth, together with the person of the- beautiful owner, was well worth a strug- gle, and he at once resolved to dissemble his dislike for Mich, if by so doing he could gain her favpr. The musicians had struck up a lively strain, and all were in motion. Anna stood conversing with a gentleman, who had but just arrived, when Mich entered the room. , He approached Anna, who greeted him cordially, at the same time expressing the fears she had entertained that she should not see him that evening. Mich replied that he had hesitated about coming, but that the wish to congratulate her upon her present happiness had induced him, finally, to present himself. "I should have felt neglected, Mich, if you had not come. You, my earliest friend, should not certainly have absented yourself upon this occasion. Do you know that I am free to-night?" 2 "I hope you may always be as free from care, and that the future may prove as bright as the present," said Mich, earnestly. "Thank you. I could not well wish for more. In return, let me .hope that success may crown all your efforts, and your brightest- dreams be realized." "I dare not hope for that. I fear you would not, if you could know them all." "Do you build air-castles now, Mich, as much as you 13* , page: 322-323[View Page 322-323] 322 OLD HA UN, THE?AWN BOKER. used to? You used to be famous for that; but you have not told me of any this long, long time." "Because I have been conscious of their instability; because those I most love to rear are too bright and beautiful for one so humble as myself, to even hope to inhabit." "Be ambitious, be persevering, and there is nothing worthy of possessing we may not obtain." "Is that your advice? Is there no danger of my reaching after a prize that is too high for me?" "None in this country. You know all are equal. It is not wealth or titles here, but mind and intellect that win the race." "With men, perhaps, it is so; but in the more private walks of life-in society--do you bid me hope, that my own exertions will make the world forget what I once was?" "Let them remember, if they will, Mich ; I do not feel that I am any more worthy of the esteem of my friends now, than when I trudged Broadway to sell the matches." Qh, Anna I do not speak of it. I do not like to think of those days. I involuntarily shudder when I remember that episode in your life." "Well, it is past. How many changes have transpired since that time I I think we ourselves have changed more than everthing else. You have changed so very much." "For the better, I hope?" "Certainly I I can scarcely believe you are the same Mich Lynch as when I first knew you. You look, talk, and act so differently." NOO(N-D AlY OF LXIFE. 323 "Tell me how I have most changed?" "Well, I can scarcely explain the change to you, although it is so perceptible to me. But you have lost the brogue entirely, did you know that, Mich?" "Och I indade, and it's not gone intirely," said Mich, with the broadest possible accent. "Not forgotten, I see," said Anna, laughing; but be careful of your heart to-night, Mich, for I am going to intro- duce you to some bewitching girls. You must dance, and make yourself agreeable." "You forget, Anna, -that I do not dance; that part of my education is yet to be completed, and as to' my heart, that is safe." '! You boast, do you? I presume JI shall see you in a short time sighing over some ringlet, having surrendered without resistance, and unconditionally." "Do you? I fear you will be mistaken, then. H may be woman's slave in reality. Her smiles the very light of my existence ; but unless assured of a just return of my,affec- tions, she shall never know it." "None so brave as those who never met a foe. Wby,. Mich, you have never been tested, you don't know your own, heart." . "I fear I do too well, for my own happiness." "Nonsense, Mich; why, I expect you will be in love with some of the pretty girls here before you leave to-night. It will not be in your nature to resist their fascinations; page: 324-325[View Page 324-325] 324 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. but here comes the doctor, with one of the sweetest crea- tures in the city hanging on his arm." "Good evening, Mich. I am glad to see you," said the doctor. Mich responded to the cordial salutation in a quiet man- ner. Anna then introduced him to some of the ladies near, and he was soon engaged in a lively conversation with them. She left the group, to entertain some who were not agreeable enough to attract the attention of the gentlemen. Thus the evening had nearly passed, when supper being announced the company filed off for the refreshment room. Anna flitted about to see that none were neglected-she went through the now deserted rooms to be sure that no shy and timid girl was left for the want of a beau. What was her surprise to see Mich leaning out of one of the open windows, apparently absorbed in thought-she approached him saying: "Mich, why are you not in the supper-room? rather gaze at the moon than eat?" i' No, not that exactly. But, Anna, I feel out of place here. You know how ignorant I am of all the customs of society. It is the truth, Anna--I dreaded coming here to-night worse than I did my examination." "How foolish for you to feel so, Mich, I do not want to flatter you-but really you might be the envy of half the beaux in town if you chose. All-you need is a little more confidence. Come. along. with me, you must go and taste NOON-DAY OF LI FE. 325 some of the delicacies that I have had prepared for the occasion." "It is foolish, perhaps, but you know I have never mingled in fashionable society, and I feel awkward." "You must not feel so--and it is time- you went into society a little more than you have formerly done. I shall want a beau after now, when the doctor will not care to escort me, and I intend to call upon you sometimes." "I shall be very happy to serve you in any way that I am able. Perhaps, under your tuition, I may learn the habits and customs of society, so that I shall not shock others by my blunders." "I think you will be an apt scholar-- come I will give the first lesson- now ; lead me to the supper room; I will take your arm thus ; see how they crowd; there goes a cup of coffee ; that gentleman was careless ; a handsome dress spoiled in consequence. -Here is a vacant place, I will stand here ; now you go to the table and get me a dish of ice- cream," said Anna, as she stopped near the door. Her attention was immediately attracted to something else, and she stood some time before Mich returned with the cream. She received it, saying, "Now go and get one for yourself, and we will enjoy them together." "Thank you,. Anna, I do not wish any. Will you have something more V?' "I am very thirsty-I would like a glass of lemonade, you will- find ,it'on the sideboar&d., page: 326-327[View Page 326-327] 326 OLD HA UN THE PAWNBROKER. "Mich moved off after some, and Anna went- on gaily chatting with those near her When Mich returned with the lemonade, his face was flushed and he seemed very much -embarrassed. Anna noticed it, but as others were standing near, she did not question him as to the cause; although she felt conscious something unpleasant had occurred. The guests were returning to the parlors, but few remained in the supper room, when Anna spoke to Mich. '"Why won't you eat something? Try some cream, Mich, are you not fond of it?" "Yes, but I do not care to eat anything-now," he replied, while a shade passed over his fine face. "What is the matter, Mich? Has anything unpleasant occurred?" "When you sent me for the lemonade some one jostled me, and I spilled a glass full upon a lady's dress who stood near." "That is unfortunate, but never mind. Do not let that mishap destroy your appetite." Just at this moment Edward Randall came along with a young lady hanging on his arm, and stopped in front of Mich and Anna, saying, in his most insinuating manner, as he extended his hand to Mich: "How are you, Lynch? Have not had the pleasure of meeting you in a long time-Miss Hervey tells me you have been admitted. Allow me to wish you success." NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 327 "Thank you," answered Mich, verygravely, as he took the offered hand. "Where do you hang out your shingle?" "I have not determined where I shall locate permanently. I intend remaining with Mr. Pierce for the present, as he has made me very advantageous proposals." "Mr. Randall, what have you decided upon doing? I suppose you have entirely given up the idea of entering the ministry?" said Anna. "Oh, yes, long ago--in fact I never intended doing so- that was the governor's whim." "Well, for once, I think you are sensible-for you certainly are not fit for so sacred an office-you are not devotional enough." "Indeed I Miss Hervey, you mistake my character entire- ly--I am all devotion--one of the blindest of worshippers at the shrine of beauty-Miss Hunt defend me-say, am I not?" said Randall, turning to the lady with him. "I fear my defence will do but little good, for I am not well enough acquainted with you to know," was the re- ply. "Well, I can tell you. He is devotional, but the deities he worships are changed with the hour," observed Anna. "I protest against that-you wrong me.?' "Do I? now be candid and tell me how many ladies you have sworn eternal fidelity to this evening?" said Anna, laughing. "Lynch, help me I Is not that a leading question? Am I page: 328-329[View Page 328-329] 328 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. bound to answer, if by so doing I criminate myself?" said Randall, in mock distress. "In the court of love, I presume, the rules will favor the guilty-consequently you may shield yourself under them." "You are rather severe-I believe ill are held innocent until proved guilty. I may admire the whole sex and delight in their society, and still worship one supremely." "I think that hardly possible. If our affections are centred in one-whether the affections be returned or not- the mind cannot admit the thought of another," said Mich, earnestly. "You are too serious altogether, Lynch, you do not understand woman's heart at all. To make ourselves attractive to them, we must not sell our love too cheaply, enhance our value by creating the doubt of obtaining our priceless affection. An object is prized, yod know, in propor- tion to the difficulty of obta iing it." "It may be so in some instances, but, in my own case, I should doubt my power to keep a heart that had been won by stratagem," said Lynch. "So I suppose you would walk up to your lady love and say, 'Here I am-take me or not. If you cast me aside, I shall be good for nothing to any body else,' instead of say- ' the ladies are all dying for me-but as a favor to you, I will love you and make you my wife,'" answered Randall. "You wholly mistake me, I should never place myself in a position where there was the least probability of my being rejected--and I certainly think that a man does not NOO'N-DAY OF LIFE. 329 make himself more worthy of affection by throwing his- attentions and the best feelings of his heart broadcast among his female friends, or more likely to be accepted by a true woman, than if he had devoted himself to the one whose favor he would win." "Well, suppose that one was not willing to receive such devoted attention-or for other reasons it should not be practicable to display those feelings-what would you do in such a case?'" "I would confine them to my own breast until such time as I might safely display them without fear of repulse," said Mich, looking at Randall. "Such cool, calculating love as that,-no lady would accept, I know-what do you say, ladies?" "Well, I for one would not be content with a divided heart, and yet I should want an earnest, unselfish, eloquent, lover; perfection is what I expect. My beau ideal of a lover has never been personified I fear," said Anna, gaily. Just then a gentleman from the parlor approached, saying: "Come, Randall, we are waiting for you, to complete the set." The party moved towards the parlor-as they did so, Mich said, in a low tone to Anna, "Your friend, Randall, has become quite a lady's man I see--he seems very attractive." "Yes, he is so, full of life and fond of gaiety he is an excellent gallant, but a great flatterer." "That pleases the sex, I suppose. Is that his greatest charm? page: 330-331[View Page 330-331] 330 OLD HAUN I THE PAWNBROKER.- "It may be with some, but, in my opinion it is his great; est fault, not that I think he intends any to be deceived by his badinage, for it is mere words-froth upon the surface. I think him capable of a deep and earnest affection, but then he will not be so likely to be credited when he avows it." "Nor so likely to prate of it-sincere affection hides it- self-it is timid and shy. I should be more sure of the regard of one I loved if it was never expressed by word, than if she talked of it." ",You talk as though you had the experience of a lover." "I need not that to teach me 'they love least who let men know their love."' "Well, I am not versed in the language of the heart, but presume it is so. When I have had some experience I shall be a better judge." "Is it possible that you have not yet had any experience? Have not the mysteries of love ever been unfolded to you? I supposed young ladies, surrounded as you are, by friends, could not reach eighteen years, ' heart-whole, and fancy-free. " "Why not, pray? Do you think ladies more susceptible of the tender passion than your own sex?" a No, less so; but their vanity is gratified by the admira- tion they redeive, and they often give in return for a sincere and deep affection-only gratitude, and think they feel love, which I consider the cause of many of the unhappy marriages now-a-days." "It seems an impossibility that one could be deceived in their own feelings, in such a matter. I am sure I could not -NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 331 be. You seem to-understand the matter so well, perhaps you can give some good reason why a lady should be/in greater danger of self deception than a gentleman." "Custom demands that gentlemen should make the first advances, and custom also has made the name of an old maid the abhorrence of all ladies; so, to escape the danger of becoming one, many accept the attentions and hand of the first man that offers. Their vanity is gratified by the preference, and often they vow to love one for whom they feel not the least shadow of affection." "Mich, you certainly do not entertain so mean an opinion of my sex as that? Do you think that I would marry a man that I did not love?, , "I trust not; for your own sake, but you do not know your own heart." "Do you think I would marry to escape being an old maid?" "No, but suppose some gentleman who, was fine-looking, agreeable, intelligent, and very much admired by all yur friends, should, by his devoted attentions to you, show you that he preferred you to all others, do you not think that an interest would be created in you for him, and would you not be influenced to accept his hand, and still not feel real affection for him?" "No, I think not. If he was all that you have pictured him, why should he not gain my affection?" "Because you could not esteem him, and without that, sincere love cannot exist." page: 332-333[View Page 332-333] 332 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. "There I think you are right, but without esteem, I assure you I would not marry." "You think you would not. But I fear you are one whose fancy might be captivated, and you would think you loved, especially if the faults of the person were never- per- mitted to reach your knowledge." "You think then, that my reason and judgment would remain neutral in an affair of marriage? you pay me a very poor compliment. I rather pride myself upon my good sense, and you are mistaken if you think good looks and a persuasive tongue all that are necessary to win my heart. But what has come across you, Mich? love and marriage seem to interest you very much this evening; have you commenced the study of love, now, that you have finished that of law?" "I should be a ready scholar, if I could find a willing and competent teacher." "I think you would be difficult to please-you would look for perfection and not be suited with less-but be careful, Mich, you may be the dupe of some vain, self-deceived girl. I rather think you are in as much danger as I am, so beware. Just imagine yourself the victim of unrequited love. Poor Mich-how I should pity you," said Anna, laughingly, as she turned to answer some remark addressed to her; For one instant, Mich's cheek paled with the pang which Anna's careless words sent through his heart, and he turned and walked away to an open window. He was not un- observed. Edward Randall's keen eye had watched him NOON-DAT OF LIBE. 333 narrowly during his conversation with Anna, and, although he was mingling in the dance, not a shade or expression had escaped him. The secret that Mich had so carefully guarded lest he should betray it, was discovered by the one he most feared; but Randall was too polite to use that knowledge, except for his own advantage. The night waned, and the guests departed-Mich with the others bade Anna good night, and left her, oppressed with an unaccountable sadness. Randall lingered till all had left, and then remained for some time commenting upon the different persons who had been present. Of Mich he spoke in the highest terms, but contrived to mingle with his praises, remarks that brought vividly to Anna's mind Mich's deficiences in etiquette, as contracted with his own polished manners. He then changed the conversation -gradually to herself, insinuating the most artful flattery in all he said. When he thought he had made such an impression that his words and manner would be remembered, he bade her good night, in the most devoted manner, and left. Anna immediately-sought her own room, after bidding the doctor good night. Randall's pleasing face and persua. sive words and voice were in her thoughts, till weary with fatigue she sank to sleep. page: 334-335[View Page 334-335] 334 OLD HAI UN) THE 'PAWNBROKER. CHAPTER XVI. SNARING THE BIRD. "GOOD morning, Anna. Rather late--" "Good morning, doctor. I am sorry I have kept you waiting for your breakfast, but the dissipation of last even- ing has made me very languid," said Anna. "Languid-that means lazy, I suppose. Well, child, rouse yourself-you look sleepy. You must go out after breakfast and take a long walk-that will make you feel better. There is but little pleasure in parties, after all, is there, Anna?" "Oh, yes I I presume those here enjoyed themselves very much; but you must remember I was the hostess last even- ing, and the excitement of receiving my guests, and the fear lest they should not enjoy themselves was very fa- tiguing." "Well, do you feel paid for your trouble and fatigue?" "Most certainly I do. I feel rather uncomfortable this morning, but that will soon pass off, and I shall have the pleasure of knowing that I afforded my friends an evening's enjoyment." SNARINNO THE BIRD. 335 "How many, among those here, do you suppose really enjoyed themselves, and went home with none but pleasant feelings in their minds?" "Really, doctor, that would be a difficult question to answer, and I do not feel responsible for any unpleasant feelings that may have been aroused. I feel conscious of having exerted myself to the utmost to entertain all here, and if I failed, I regret it." "You did well, Anna. I could but think last evening, as I sat and watched you, how few would appreciate the efforts you were making, and how few thanks you would receive for your trouble." "Why, doctor-why do you feel so censorious this morn- ing? I am inclined to think late hours do not agree with you." "You are right, Anna, I do feel rather ill-natured this morning." "What is the cause? Anything unpleasant occur to you last evening?" "No, not to me." "Who, -then?" "Well, the truth is, A-nna, I was so vexed last evening about Mich, that I have not yet recovered." "Mich? What did he do?" "Do? He didn't do anything, and that is- the worst of it, and he got the credit of doing considerable." "What do you mean? Do explain 1" "His feelings were hurt, and he was very much mortified several times during the evening 1" page: 336-337[View Page 336-337] 336 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "I am sorry for that, but how did it happen?" "Well, he went to get a glass of lemonade for some one-" "And spilled it. That I knew, for it was for me, and he told me of it." ( Did he tell you what that ill-natured, proud Miss F-- said?" ( No. What did she say?" "(' Who is that boor?'" r "Did Jane F-- say that? I am astonished. Did Mich hear it?" "Yes, certainly he did." "What did he do?" "He begged her pardon, and passed on, while his face crimsoned with mortification." "Did any one answer her?" "Yes. Some one whispered-' not a boor, but a bog- trotter just from ould Ireland.'" "Who said that?" "I don't know. I had turned away. There were several standing near-the voice sounded to me like Randalls." "You wrong Edward in thinking for one moment, that he would make such a remark." "Perhaps I do. But from what I heard a young man say afterwards, I know that some one intentionally jostled Mich's arm." "Is it possible any one here could be so ill-bred? I thought it only carelessness or awkwardness in Mich: Why sNA iarN G T HE BIRD. 337 should he have been selected as the subject for rude- ness?" I don't know. You say he is awkward. Perhaps he is, but you know he gives more attention to his books than to the conventionalities of society." "I think that is so. He told me he disliked coming, and I-presume he feels conscious of his unacquaintance with all the forms of etiquette, but he need not, for he is decidedly a fine-looking and noble-minded man. He has not the polish and ease of Edward, and probably never would attain it, but he would soon lose that sense of awkwardness, which is now the greatest -bar to his enjoyment, if he would mingle freely in society as he might do." "-I presume so, but whether it is worth while to go through so much to get so little, is doubtful in my mind. You say Edward is polished-so he is-but Mich's sincerity is worth much more in my estimation." "Why, doctor, do you think Edward insincere?" "I am afraid he is. Is it possible for him to feel all the heights and depths of passion that he expressed last even- ing?" "You do not understand him at all, doctor. His con- versation was merely light and frivolous talk, to entertain for the moment. I really feel very much indebted to him, for he assisted in making the evening pass pleasantly, more than any other person, or in fact, all of the others." "Humph I Well, I'am glad of it. What is he doing, Anna? What business does he propose following?" 15 page: 338-339[View Page 338-339] "He told me last night that he had decided to remain in the city, and in the situation he now occupies." "What is that?" "A situation in a commission house. It will be an active life, and that he will like." "Is he fitted for the business? He is late in deciding what shall be his occupation?" "That is in consequence of his father's strong desire to have him enter the ministry. He would not until quite recently consent to any other plan." "He has wholly misunderstood Edward's character, if he has supposed he would be fit for that office." "I do not think Edward suited for the calling, at any ratt, not with his present feelings, although inclination is the only bar in the way of his becoming eminent in - that profes. sion-for he certainly has talents of high order, and a fine voice and manner." "Fine voice and manner!--that is all that is necessary to win a woman's heart." "Say not so, doctor, I hope- you do not think that is all that is necessary to win my heart?" "I hope not-but if not, you will bo an exception to the general rule." "I shall be, then. For with me a man's principles, and disposition, will weigh much more than mere appearance or accomplishments." "Child, you do not know yourself-you know not your weakness till you have been tried." ABING THE BIRD. - 33 "That is very true-but I do know my love of truth and integrity, and a person in whom these are wanting I can not esteem." "Those deficiencies might be hidden from you, until you . . were irrevocably bound to the person seeking you." ,- .. i:r "That is scarcely possible, I would not yield my hert and hand in that unquestioning manner." "God grant you may not be deceived, my dear girl,- for - to you, it would be a life-long misery,-to find youxrelfde' . 9i wife of one you could not esteem." : : "It makes me shudder to think of such a possibility- but what a serious strain we have got in--heigh-ho. Talk- ing of husbands and hearts as though they were at my command. I am too well satisfied with my present sitUa. tion and freedom, to lightly resign them, and I hope you will be in no haste to part with me?" "No, no, child. If I could have my own way, you should retain your freedom for many years--but that is not possi- ble, so I must prepare my mind to part with you, for you arre sure to be sought by some one." "Well, if I may wear the bonds lightly, I will wear them willingly, but not otherwise. I shall be difficult to please, so do not let the fear of parting with me trouble you for a long time. I promise you one thing, that I w i not change my own lname for that of another without your consent." " I will remember that, Anna,; and assert my right, if I think you are deceived in the one you love." " Well, do so. I promise you I will never go contrary, to e. page: 340-341[View Page 340-341] 840 OLD HU, THE PAWNBROKER, our wishes if you will prove to me that your objections are just." "You say that carelessly, Anna." "I will abide by it though, under any circu nce," sad. Anna, as they rose from the table. "Well, well, I shall use the right you have given me, if I should ever think it necessary." "Ha I ha ha I How serious you look, doctor. Go with me and take a walk, will you? I think you need itmore than I do." Yes, I will go--get ready." Anna left the room to prepare for her walk, and the doc tor paced the floor ejaculating in his accustomed man- ner. "Humph I I see it--Too bad-He shall not-By George he sha not-Mich's worth a dozen like him--Poor fellow- he shs Well, well."ed for her walk, she heard As Anna entered the room attired for her walk, she heard a deep sigh that just then escaped the doctor, and looked at him in surprise, for she had seldom seen him depressed in spirit, but she concluded that it was in consequenc of los- ig his usual hors of rest, which to him of late years ha' become indispensable. They wandered out into the suburbs of the city, walkinJ briskly and converedsing upon different topics. Soon Anna's languor had vanished, as also the doctor's depression, as they returned home in fine spirits. When Anna entered the parlor she found upon the table 8 NARING THE BIRD. 841 beautiful bouquet. She inquired of the servant wno had left it. "A boy, and here is a note that came with it," said the servant, pointing to a delicate, perfumed note that lay near it, and had not been perceived. The doctor stood observing Anna as she hastily opened the note, and he saw the flush of pleasure as she perused it. "This is unfortunate--I am sorry I was not home," said Anna. "What is it, Anna?' "There ought to have been an answer returned to this. Edward wants me to go out on horseback this afternoon. It will be delightful-the air is so fine." - "Humph. Break your neck riding on horseback." "Why, doctor, what has, come. over the spirit of your dream-you have always praised my riding, and was the first one to put me on a horse." "Well, riding with me is a different thing from riding under the protection of such a hare-brained young fellow as Ran- dall." , "Ha ha 1 ha I I shall have to tell him of that. You know I have perfect command of my horse, and of course I would ride no other, andtibesides that, there is a large party going out. I think it will be very pleasant. You certainly do not object?" "No, nonsense. Go along and answer your note. You, of course, are old enough to judge of these things yourself." Without waiting to hear more, Anna left the parlor to page: 342-343[View Page 342-343] 342 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. answer the note, accepting the invitation. As she did so the doctor commenced pacing the room in a troubled manner, muttering: "Humph, I see it is no use. I believe he is an unprin- cipled fellow though. I can read him, no mistake, he means to win her. Poor thing. Perhaps I am deceived. Hope I am. Well, well, I am a foolish old man that is certain. I won't think of it any more." The note that Anna had received was written in the most faultless manner. Not one word of flattery, nothing to offend her nicest sense of refinement. Randall had read her character, and well knew when to flatter and when to refrain ; he knew that though he might with impunity say the most complimentary things to her in a jesting manner and in the presence of others, it would not do to use similar language to her seriously or when alone. She called it nonsense, and deceived herself by thinking that it had no effect, upon her mind; but Randall knew better-he knew that so long as he did not offend her delicacy by coarse flattery at inoppor- tune times, He was steadily gaining in her favor by the very arts which she despised. Thus it is. Through her vanity is woman blindly led on, to the adventuring of life's hopes and-happiness upon some frail bark, that her judgment, reason, and every higher faculty of which she is possessed, would condemn, if they could be aroused to exert their influence. At the time appointed, Randall appeared mounted on a showy animal--he'was really very attractive as he sat, and SNax INO Tysr BIRD. 343 Anna's cheek flushed with pleasure when she glanced out of her window and 'caught a glimpse of his fine figure and handsome face. With hisassistance, she was soon sitting on her pony, and'in readiness to start. The doctor stood near, and as Anna bent her head to speak to him at parting, he thought she was more beautiful than ever. The darlk green riding habit and hat were very becoming, and h er hazel eyes werel i eyes were sparkling with pleasure, as' she whispered: "Now, dotor, do not worry about me, I shall come safely back again." "Well, well-Randall be careful, and do not let Anna break her neck while you are gone." "Never fear, doctor. A nna, your friends seem unwil- " Rather thin k it foretellsincrease of hope, happiness. It doesto me--for this is the irs t tim e I hae rode with you. It will be one of the bright days in m y calendar. '!I think they mu st al I be bright, for i suppese every in terview with a lady is marked as a bright day."/ "A U days a re b right, ertai I when tin the presence of your s ex-bu t n ot equally so." " Where ar e we t o m eet th e rest of t h e party, Edwards, "At B--. house, we will stop the r e to rest and all return in company--w e shall in th is w ay, enjoy t he pleasure "I ay are nride athe ompa n y of Other s oo Do you li ke the plan of page: 344-345[View Page 344-345] 34:4 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Very well, but why did not the party join before leaving the city?" "I for one thought this way much preferable, perhaps'I was too selfish in desiring to enjoy your society'alone for a short time. I hope I have not been too presuming?" "Why, Edward, how very ceremonious you have become. Any one would suppose you were addressing a stranger, instead of one you have known for nearly your whole life- time." "All my life, Anna, for the day I first saw you was the beginning of my existence," said Edward, in a deep and earnest tone, as he bent his burning glance upon her. Annalaughed, and turned away to hide the blush called up by his words and manner, saying, gaily "You are a very large boy of your age, then--you mus be younger than myself, if you date the beginning of you existence when I was ten years old. I do not wonder th doctor was afraid to trust me with you." "Was he afraid to trust you with me?" "Yes, he said I would certainly break my neck-you wet too young and hare-brained." "Ahl I am sorry I have not the doctor's confidence fc even a short ride, for I should be only too happy, to atter you through life and protect you from harm. I hope ye do not share the doctor's feeling." "I think the doctor's judgment in all cases reliable," sa Anna, archly. "In affairs of the heart?" SNARING TH-E BIRD, 345 "I presume so-I have never had an opportunity of test- ing it in such a manner." "How far would you be guided by him? Would you follow his advice if it was contrary to the dictates of your own heart?" "He would not advise anything contrary to its dictates without sufficient reason." "Reasons to him sufficient might be powerless ito con- vince you. A man as old as he, who has never known what it is to love, is not competent to judge in such a mat- ter." "His sincere affection for me would supply all that he might lack in experience." "I think you are mistaken, but hope not. Anna, do you remember the time you came to my father's and passed the day, that first time?" "Certainly, you were very kind to me that day-amusing me in every possible manner. Do you remember you read to me? I thought then they were the most interesting stories I had ever heard." "Remember Hyes, I could not well forget it. Anna, did you know that you made a conquest that day. /:That I :have -been your slave ever since-I have been'in chains eight long years."* . A "They must be rusty by this time, -and easily broken. I should advise you to ]throw them off if they :are galling," said Anna, gaily, attempting to hide her embarrasment. "Anna, do not say so, bind them, rivet them ifirmer, give 15' page: 346-347[View Page 346-347] 346 OLD HA UVN THE PAWNBURO ER. me the right to claim you publicly, as you are, the arbitress of my destiny." "Edward, you jest with serious matters," said Anna, in a trembling voice. "This is no jest, Anna, decide my fate now and forever- I love you-you know that I have always loved you. Will you be my wife?" said Edward, as he bent forward, and laid his hand on the bridle of her horse-determinationl in every muscle of his face. There was no tenderness, no pas- sion in his look or tone, only determination ; he- understood the influence he would have to combat with, and he would not run the risk of losing by delay all that he so much desired. The blood left Anna's face, and for a moment she vainly essayed to use her livid, trembling lips to answer. Edward saw the struggle, and, reading it favorably, his features re- laxed, and in a low musical voice, he said: "Anna, can a life of devotion add to your happiness? Say but one word to assure me that I have not been deceiving myself, through the years that are past, that I am not de- ceived now." "Oh I Edward," murmured Anna, as she bent her fore- head to the very neck of her horse and burst in tears. Edward bit his lip with vexation as he saw the tears-he did not, he could not understand such a nature as hers. He waited for a moment, and then said, as he rested his hand upon her shoulder: "Anna do not weep, do not let tears dim those beautiful SN A RIN O THe BIRD. 347 eyes. I hope the confession of my secret has not pained you." Anna raised her head and wiped away the tears upon her cheeks, and without looking at him, said in a low voice '-- "Edward, you have surprised me. I was not prepared for this. You have been to -me like a brother. I have never thought of you in any other light." "Think of me then from this time as your devoted lover, ,until you grant me the privilege of a dearer title. Will you, Anna?" "I cannot decide this subject so hastily." "Anna, your heart has already decided it. W hen I say to you, I love you, what is its response? Tell me, I want no other decision." Anna turned her head and shot one quick, shy glance from under -her drooping lids. The look she met, sent the blood mantling to her brow, and with one sharp stroke of her riding whip she made her horse start forward. Edward looked after her, while a satisfied smile spread over his features, and he said aloud : "Mine!"Then strok. ing his horse he galloped on, and overtaking her, said:- "Anna, do not run away from me, for if I read the lan. guage of your eyes aright, I am bound to follow whereyou lead." "Perhaps you do not understand their language. What did they tell you?" "That I might keep on loving you" page: 348-349[View Page 348-349] 3485 o LD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. "I did not authorize them to say anything of the kind." "That unsophisticated heart of yours did then, for they surely said it. I am in earnest, Anna. I cannot bear sus- pense. May I hope to call you mine at some future day .'" "Will not the language of my heart and eyes satisfy you?" "Yes, if your lips will confirm it." "What would you have them say?" "Simply-Yes. Will you say it?" "Yes." "Anna, dearest girl, you shall never regret this. I will be to you all the most exacting heart could wish. This even- ing I will be with you, and then we can talk over our plans. I see I must forego that pleasure for the preseit, for some of our party are close upon us." Just then a lady and gentleman galloped up directly be- hind them, and the gentleman exclaimed :- "Well done, Randall I When do you and Miss Hervey expect to reach B-- House?" "In good time. We must be near there already." "Ha I ha! ha I Randall you are losing your senses. 'Most there I You have been on the way long enough, that is true, but you have two miles more to travel before you get your supper." "We do not believe in rushing madly through the world at the rate that you would, but take it leisurely," was the reply, After some more bantering on the part of both lady and gentleman they galloped on. The time passed in light con. SNAB ING THE BIR D . 349 versation as they all rode gaily forward until they reached their destination. Then they dismounted, and with the rest of the party, who were all assembled, partook of supper, Spend- ing an hour very agreeably. The whole party then set out for home in company, so that Randall did not have an op- portunity for further intercourse with Anna. She was glad of the relief, for even now the thought forced itselfupon her mind that she had very hastily decided a matter that was to her of the utmost importance. She was confused, she, could hardly convince herself that it was not all a dream. But she had but little time for thought among the laughter and gaiety that pervaded the party. It was latein the evening when they reached home, and when Edward assisted Anna to dismount, he said :- "You are tired and it is late ; I will not come in to-night, but to-morrow evening I shall come-will you be at iome?" "Yes ; good night," said Anna as he led her up the steps. He held her hand for one moment as if he had something more he would say, but finally released it, remarking: "Good night--dream of me." Anna had been violently struggling for two long -hours, against the strong tide of emotion that to her was so novel. Her self-control had been gradually vanishing, until now that there was no longer the necessity for restraint, she burst into tears as she entered the house, and without *knowing- or caring whether she was observed, threw herselfupon a sofa and sobbed convulsively Doctor Foster was there-he had been Watching for her-- page: 350-351[View Page 350-351] 350 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNB ROKER. had seen her dismount, and noticed Edward's manner as peculiar, and when she came into the parlor, he started to meet her, but she did not see him, and when he came and bent over her, and said, "Anna, my child, what is the matter?" she started up, and, with that almost unequalled command which she had acquired over herself, even in her childish days, re- plied : "I have been foolish-but I hope you will not blame me- only this morning I was boasting of my strength ; but oh I how weak I am." "Child--Ann-tell me, what do you mean?" "Do not look so frightened, doctor; it is nothing very bad. I have only been hasty ; but I knew you would not object." - "What is it? Tell me quick l" "I have promised to be Edward's wife." "Promised Hnot promised?" said the doctor in an agitated voice. "Yes, promised. But why? Would you have ob- jected?" "Oh, my dear girl, what have you done? Why did you?-you will regret it. Oh, Anna, Anna, why did you?" said the doctor, as he paced the room. Anna was now thoroughly aroused; this antipathy of Doctor Foster to Edward was wholly unexpected. She could not understand it; and, following him, she laid her hand upon his arm, and detaining him, said: SNARING THE BIRD. 35' "Doctor, I did very wrong to make such a promise with- out your consent and approbation. I hope, for that fault, to obtain your forgiveness." "It is not that, Anna. What do I care whether you ask me or not, so that you do not make a bad venture of your happiness?" "Do I understand you? Do you object to Edward?" "I do. You will regret this) haste, Anna." ' "No, that is not possible, if you will now approve. Have I not known Edward Randall almost all my life? Is there anything of him that I have not already learned? Could I know him better?" "If you are happy in your choice, Anna, why do you weep? Do you not already regret your haste?"- "No, no ; but it has teen so sudden, so unexpected; I don't know why I wept; but it was not regret-no. He says he has loved me always, and I cannot doubt him," said she, musingly. ' "Do you love him? Have you questioned your- own heart? You have loved him as a brother; is there any tenderer feeling in your heart towards him?" "I certainly never thought of him as a lover before this evening; but I admire him more than any one else I know." "Admire him I. is that all? Do you esteem and respect him? Are. you sure that he possesses that truth and integ- rity which, but this morning, you said would be necessary in one you married?" - "I think he does. Do you know anything to the contrary?" . page: 352-353[View Page 352-353] HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "No, not positively; but I say again, I feel confident that he is not the one to make you happy. But we will not speak of it any more to-night. You are tired, go to bed. To-morrow we will talk it over. Good-night, God bless you," said the doctor, tenderly, as he kissed her fair fore- head. Anna retired, with a heavy heart, to her chamber. The doctor's words and manner had cast a gloom over her' spirits, which she could not resist. She questioned herself over and over again oa the cause of his opposition. He had given no reason; and, perhaps, it was a mere caprice, or prejudice. But that was inconsistent with the doctor's character and usual conduct. She lived over again the -scenes of the pest evening, wondering at herself, that sit;.should so quickly have assented to Edward's wish. But then she quieted her own fears of its prudence, by recalling their long acquaintance, his many kindnesses, and evident affection for her; and she was sure she loved him better than any one else. With thoughts like these, she fell asleep. How little she knew her own heart. She loved Edward Randall as she would have loved a kind brother. A deep, all-absorbing passion had never been awakened in her heart; if it had, she could not have thus coolly discussed the subject with her guar- dian, or debated upon it in her own chamber. That admits of no questioning, seeks not the gaze of others, but hides the image of the loved deep in the recesses of the heart. OLOUDS AND SHADOWS. 353 f CHAPTER XVII. CLOUDS AND SHADOWS. RANDALL felt very much elated with his uiihoped for suc- cess. He had not expected so easy a conquest-in fact, had not intended trying his fortune that evening, until he discovered the doctor's want of confidence in him. He had often thought that to r Foster, latterly, was not quite so cordial as before, his gaze was more earnest and searching when they met. But he did not, for a moment, suppose that the doctor could htve ever discovered any- thing that would induce him to interfere with his engage- ment. He had been always careful, never to present him- self before Anna or the doctor, when he had been indulging in dissipation. Now, he felt that the prize he had so long envied was within his grasp. Anna's fortune would provide for him all those-luxuries a-td pleasures in which he delighted to revel. Mentl or physical exertion would be unnecessary, and he would glide quietly along upon the current of life, without interruption or anxiety. With thoughts like these filling his mind, he rode slowly down into the busy heart of the city. After delivering up hIis horse, he threaded his way page: 354-355[View Page 354-355] , HAUN, THE PAWNB ROKER. through the crowded thoroughfare to one of the saloons which he was in the habit of frequenting; there he found two of his acquaintances who seemed to have been awaiting his arrival. At his suggestion, they all retired to an inner room, Edward having ordered refreshments, together with brandy and cigars for the company, which the waiter imme- diately brought them. As he left the room, Randall said, at the same time half filling his glass and watering ad libitum, f Come, boys, drink to my success. I am the happiest man in the world to-night." "What's up. Somebody retire from life and left you their heir P' said one. "Better than that, Bill, Ive made a conquest of the sweetest girl in this city, and this very evening, too. Boys, I've a notion to marry her.' "Ha I ha I ha 1 Hear him, Benson-you marry ? What the deuce are you going to do with a wife ?" "Well, if you would let me finish what I wgs-going to say, you would discover what I am going to do with a wife. She's only worth about a hundred thousand-eh I do you see now ?" "Who is it, Ned I Tell us, you needn't be jealous." "No I'm not afraid of you, but I think I'll catch the bird and cage herfirst, and then, perhaps you may see her and hear her voice, too." " Now don't mystify-I know as well as you do, see if I don't-it's Anna Hervey, old Doctor Foster's ward, ain't it ? now own up," said the one called Benson. OLO UD AND SHADOWS. 355 "The same, there's no use denying it; come drink" said Randall, raising the glass to his mouth. "Long life and happiness," said both of the young men, 1s they followed his example. "Benson, what made you guess so quickly who it was ?" -" I have heard you speak of her often, and I saw you riding with her this afternoon, so I supposed of -course she was the one-nice girl, Randall; too good for you." "Why, Benson, what do you mean, I shall be the kindest of husbands." "So long as you have plenty of money, but when that fails -" "That day will not come-a hundred thousand will last my lifetime." "I doubt it, but of course the money is no attraction ?" "No indeed. She's a lovely girl-I begin to really believe that I love her, that is as well as I could anyt woman. I have known her ever since she was. a little child., "'Do you love her well enough to take her without the money ?" "Perhaps I might, and then again perhaps I might not; but just at this time I'm disposed to think not, for it is more than I can do to provide for myself, let alone a wife." " But, Randall, do you really mean to marry the girl? If yes, then I say you are a fool to marry any one-you'll never catch me tied to a woman-see fif you do," said the other. page: 356-357[View Page 356-357] 356 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "' No, I don't believe we shall until men become very scarce and then, perhaps, you might stand some sort of a chance. I suppose you would not touch the thousands, oh, no, not you, you don't like money," said Randall, sneer- ingly. "I like money, but not well enough to sell my freedom. I don't like being nosed about by a woman," said he, light- ing a cigar. "Randall, I don't want to offend you, but I should not like to have it said that I had married a girl for her money. Supposing you were the rich one, would you feel gratified to know you were sought, or taken for that alone?" said the other, who had as yet taken but little part in the con- versation. "Fol-de-rol, Benson, you are behind the age; but you are mistaken. I have said it was pot for that alone. I like her for herself, and do not intend she shall ever know or suspect that the money is any attraction." "Let alone a woman for that. I tell you what, with all your knowledge of the sex, you will find yourself deceived in this respect. She will soon discover that you wanted the pewter, and then look out for breakers." "It will be for her interest to keep quiet then, if she should make the discovery ; for you know the cash would be in my pocket after we are married, and she will be, in fact, dependent on me." "Yes, that is undoubtedly so ; but it is none the less wrong for being so ; and if I were a law-maker, instead of oLOUDS AND SHADOWS. .- 57 being as I am, -a law-breaker, I'd have the laws -changed, so that every woman should hold her own propertyas well 4 after marriage as before." "You would change your mind, if you were in my place." "Not at all, sir, and if I -was in your place, every cent of her property should be settled upon herself before the knot would be tied. I should not be surprised if old Foster should insist upon your doing--it." "Old Foster be hanged. I'll look out for that. I am going to hurry up matters. I don't intend to give them much time for deliberation." "Well, Randall, you will do what I would not, and I never considered myself over scrupulous where money is concerned, and I say, she's too deuced fine agirl to be imposed upon," said Benson, rising and throwing away his cigar. - "Won't you repeat your remark? I think I must have misunderstood you," Randall replied, in a supercilious tone andmanner. "Come, boys, keep lquikt; what's the use? /Pang it, can't you talk about-a womau without getting into a pas- sionu" said the one who -had at first monopolized the conversation, and who answered to the fainJliar name of Tom. "Going down town, Tom? Come, let's be movingy ' "What's the use of being in a hurry; Benson? sit down and take another horn." page: 358-359[View Page 358-359] :8 O ALD BtAUN, THE PAWNBROKER "No, I'm going to the office. I was up late last night and am sleepy n- "I've got a word to say before we' part," said Randall, whose face had become somewhat flushed by the liquor he had drank, "I want an explanation. Did you say some. thing about my imposing upon somebody 1" "No, I did not, but I will say that you are going to do a devilish unhandsome thing. Do you-understand that?" "Yes, and do you understand that?" said Randall, as he seized an empty glass and threw it with some force across the table into the last speaker's face. The glass was a heavy one and hit Benson over the left eye, making a severe contusion. The favor was instantly returned by Benson, who, spring- ing to his feet, rushed towards Randall, and before the latter could guard himself, gave him a blow with his fist that-made him stagger. Benson drew back like an experienced boxer, to repeat with his left, when, as he was about to send the blow home, his arm was seized by Tom, who had rushed towards them, exclaiming: "Stop, now, don't make fools of yourselves. Benson get along--never mind that diff-. What the devil do you care about the girl or her money either? I tell you, I'll call the police if you don't quit," said the good-natured Tom, as he endeavored to separate the angry men. The two stood glaring at each other, until Tom broke the silence by saying: ' Now what is there to get mad about. Shake hands and OLOUDB AND 8H AH .DOw, .. -' I^i make up, boys-what^s the use of quarrelliung? Come Ben- - son, you were the one to give offence-give -Randall-your hand, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves, you've made me spill my last glass, and it was just, the quantity that I needed." "Tom, don't meddle--I won't. Mr. Randall will repent this evenings work-mark my words," said Benson, as he jammed his hat down on his head, and left the, room, He went directly to his lodgings, which were in the office in which he was a student; but as he was about to ascend the stairs leading to them, he encountered Mich Lynch, who was himself returning home after spending the evening with a friend. - Their offices being upon the same floor they went to- gether, and Mich invited Benson to go in and sit awhile-; the invitation was at first declined, but upon being repeated he followed Mich in, saying: i "I expect I shall be a beauty by to-morrow, morning. I got a devil of a'blow over my -eye to-night-see there." "Why, Benson, how did that come? have you been fighting? I did not know that you ever indulged in that amusement." "I am not in the habit of it-Lynch, is it very bad?" Mich held the lamp towards him, which he had in his hand, saying: "' Well, you are, a beauty. How did you get it, say- " "Well, to make a, long story short-I told our friend page: 360-361[View Page 360-361] 860 OLD HA UN, THE PAW XBROKER. Randall, that he was a devilish mean fellow, and he gave me that as an acknowledgment of the fact." "Randall I Do you know him?" "Know him? Look at that eye-I am pretty sure I do know him and shall remember him, too." "Do not get excited, Benson. Tell me how it hap- pened." "Well, myself and another went into a saloon up town to get a drink, and while we were there, Randall came in, and asked us to take something, and we did so--then he began to tell us about his good lack, and what he was going to do when he gets married etc., etc. I expressed my opinion pretty freely, and he got excited and pitched his tumbler into my face, the edge of it hit me over the eye and left that mark." "Married I Did you say he was going to be married?" said Mich, in a husky voice. "Yes-do you know Randall?" a I ha[e met him often." "Perhaps you know this girl he is going to marry?' "Who?" "Why that pretty Miss Hervey, the adopted daughter of Doctor Foster." Mich started from his chair and went to the window; for an instant he pressed his hand upon his heart. "What is it, Lynch? What did you hear "' "Nothing, go on. Tell me all he said?" said Mich, returning to his seat with forced composure. OL-OUDS AND SUNStINE. 861 "Lynch, what is the- matter? you are as white as a ghost." "Severe pain in my side-go onwith your story." "You had better go to bed."'} . "No, no, go on. It's past, jin . Tell me all about that?" "If my friend had not interfered, we'd have had a regular scrimmage. I -wish I'd made my mark on his, face, as he has on mine, it might have hurt his credit with his lady love. She don't know what a contemptible -puppy he is,' she would not have him, I know." ' :':: "Who did you say it was?" "Miss Hervey--Anna. Hervey, I believe her name is. Do you know -her?" - - "Yes, I know who you mean. Did Randall say he was going to marry her?"Y , "Yes, and her money is all that he wants. It made me mad to hear him brag so 'about it; he says she is worth a hundred thousand. Is it so?" . "She is wealthy; but he was only boasting. He did not say they were engaged?"' "Yes, they were oat on, horseback' together this after- noon, I saw them, and he proposed and she accepted; so he said." "I don't believe, it." "Why, Lynch,-what is the matter.? let me get you some- thing. Are you: faint?" "No, I'll turn in for the night-I don't feel very well." page: 362-363[View Page 362-363] 362 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Had I not better get you something, or perhaps stay with you?" "No, I thank you. I shall feel better soon." "Well, good night-you must not study so hard, Lynch." "I don't intend to for awhile--good night." When the door closed upon his friend, and Mich was alone, he gave way to the agitation that had almost un- manned him; he sank upon a seat, and resting his head upon a table, wept. Yes, wept ; tears that wnen seldom shed, were wrung from his almost bursting heart. Then the intense and devoted love, which, growing with his growth, and strengthening with his strength, had lain hidden in the secret chambers of his soul, was suddenly awakened to life, and he became conscious that the hope of one day calling her his, had stimulated him through the struggles of the past. Now every thought was merged in the overwhelm- ing one that she loved another-that she was lost to him; and then his thoughts reverted to the successful rival, who had won the prize, or rather to him who had clandestinely stolen from him his treasure, and for a moment a feeling of resentment and anger banished other feelings. Starting up, he paced the office with clenched hands, and compressed lips ; for a few moments the violence of his emotions choked his utterance-but as it gradually subsided he exclaimed: "Vile, mercenery wretch. He does not, he cannot love her as I do I I'll thwart him-love him? can it be she loves him? Oh, God I I cannot, I will not give her up-but if she does? He cannot make her happy. She will not, can- O LOUDS AND sUNSHNE. 363 not love him if she knows his motives. - She will despise me if I tell her. No, that will not do. But she must know his object-can I, dare I approach her for this purpose. I who have loved her so long, and so well--must I lose her- must I give her up?" and he threw himself upon a sofa, giving way to the agony of despair-then came a doubt of the truth of what he had heard and hope inspired him again. Then Anna's words and manner of the evening previous werhrecall- ed to mind, to deprive him of even that reliance. Thus through that: whole night, did Mich yield alternately to hope, doubt, anger, and despair. It is not to be wondered at, that when Mr. Pierce entered the office in the morning, he was startled by Mich's haggard appearance, and exclaimed : "Why, Mich, what is the matter? are you sick?" "No, sir---yes- I mean-I don't feel very well." "No, Yes. Which is it Mich 7 You certainly look as though you had not slept any." "I have not; but I feel betternow." "Tell, you had better go up to the house; you have not been to breakfast, have you?" "No, I do not wish any." "Uich, are you in any trouble? If you are let me know it. What is it?r "Nothing, nothing, sir, only I am not in very good spirits just now, a; little annoyance, nothing more," said Mich, endeavoring to conceal his emotion from the piercing gaze of his benefactor. Mr. Pierce approached him, and- laying his hsnd upon his shoulder, said: page: 364-365[View Page 364-365] 364 OLD HAUX, THE PAWNBROKER "Mich, you are not dealing frankly with me; there is something more. I hope you have not been led into any- thing foolish. Tell me what it is? You know, Mich, you can-rely upon me." "Nothing that you need fear. I have done nothing that I need be ashamed of. I am only blue this morning. I'll go out and take a walk, and perhaps I shall feel better." "Very well ; you had better go and get some breakfast," said Mr. Pierce, scrutinizing him very closely as he rose and left the office. He saw plainly that something unusual had occurred ; for he had never before seen Mich in such -a state of mind, but he knew him to be so strictly correct in all his habits, that the suspicion, which for one-moment crossed his mind, that he might have been tempted to commit some indiscretion, was quickly banished by Mich's words, and he concluded that Mich was temporarily indisposed, and so let the subject rest. Mich wandered on, gloomy and despondingly, towards his home. All life and energy had suddenly left him. There was now no incentive to study, to labor, to strive with the world. Arriving at home, he was met by his mother with an, anxious countenance, for his want of punctuality had aroused her fears for his safety. He complained of head- ache, and listened patiently to his fond parent's prescriptions for his relief, refusing everything but a cup of coffee. Tak- ing that, he left and strolled to the upper part of the city, without any definite object in view, except to drive away CLOUDS A-ND SUNSHNE. 365 disagreeable thoughts; but he was instinctively led toward 'Doctor Foster's residence, and was 'startled when he found himself in its immediate vicinity, and the color deepened in his cheek when he saw the worthy doctor and Anna-approach- ing him on the side-walk. His first impulse was to turn away, lest he should betray his' feelings ; but then, the consciousness that his conduct would appear strange and be misunderstood, made him as suddenly decide to endeavor to meet them as usual. "Good morning, Mich I Going to give us a call, are you not?" said the doctor. "No, I am obliged to you, I cannot stop." "Why, what calls you up town so early. Does some poor fellow want his will drawn up?" "No, but for a rarity, I -have been indulging myself in a morning walk." , "Well, then, you certainly need not be in haste. Come, turn back, and go in with us." "Thank you, doctor, I have idled-away as much' timieas I ought to already." "I wish you had come along earlier, we-might have enjoyed our walk together, and, perhaps, I should ihaye had some one to talk to me. I have had a dumb companion this morning." "I hope you are well this morning, Miss Hervey?" "Miss Hervey is very well, indeed, Mr. Lynch." "Humph I how polite- Miss Hervey - Mr.' Lynch. What has become of Anna. and Mich? Come, unbend a page: 366-367[View Page 366-367] 366 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. little. Any one would suppose you were strangers. Anna, do talk. If I did not know your conscience was troubling you, I should certainly think you were sick." "Pshaw, doctor, how you talk," said Anna, with a forced laugh. "Come, Mich, go in and sit for a few moments. I want you should tell me how you enjoyed the party night before last?" "Well, I will, for a few moments ; but I must not stay long." As they entered the house, Anna unloosed her bonnet and shawl, throwing them aside, carelessly, as she seated herself in the parlor. Mich thought she had never before appeared so beautiful. The exercise of walking had brought the rose to her pale cheek, and in- her eyes was a sad, thoughtful expression that he had not seen there for years. It reminded him of the time when he had stood by her side and looked upon her dead father, and again when her mother had been hid- den from her sight. It surprised him ; he expected to have seen her radiant with smiles of new-found happiness. As he looked, he doubted the story he had heard. Forgetful of all but his own thoughts, he, sat gazing into Anna's face, until she, turning her eyes upon him, met his earnest look, and then her deepening color recalled him to himself. Embarrassed, he took a book from off a table near, andt turned its leaves, although he did not read its pages. "You have not told me, Mich, how you liked my birth- day party." CLOUVDs AND SVNSHXINE. 367 "Everything wag very handsome." ' Everybody you mean; but did you enjoy yourself? Why don't you praise me and my talent to entertain?" "Have you become so accustomed to flattery that other language has no charms for you?" "Yes, yes, that is it, Mich," said the doctor, just enter- ing; " flattery and lies are the bait the young jack-a-napes use now-a-days to catch young girls' hearts.. I hope you will never stoop to the use of such means." "Doctor, what do you mean?" said Anna. "I mean just what I say. Mich, never flatter a woman" "I have had but little intercourse with ladies, and do not know so well, perhaps, as you, the influence of well- timed flattery; but, I think, the heart I should value, could not thus be won."' "Who said anything about winning hearts? Every foolish thing I say of late, the doctor takes up in earnest. Mich, the doctor scolds me sometimes more than he did when I was a little girl." "Oh, Anna 1' "There, do not magnify that now ; do not think for one / moment that I would be scolded less. I only wanted Mich to praise my party a little; I think that is excusable, as it is the first I ever gave. Mich, it is not right for you to jump at the conclusion, that because I solicited a little praise, I would be satisfied with nothing else. You know that I do not like flattery. Just praise is not flattery." page: 368-369[View Page 368-369] 368 OLD HAUJN, THE PAWNBROxER. "Who shall be the judge? A woman's vanity induces her to believe that the most fulsome flattery is truth itself. Praise a woman's face and figure, Mich, and you pave a broad way to her heart," said the doctor. "You are ungenerous, doctor. These are not your real sentiments; you feel out of humor with me to-day, I am afraid, and in consequence the whole of my sex suffer. Is it not so?" "Humph! I must confess I do feel ill-natured." "Mich, you must not believe that what the doctor says is true of all. I hope there are many who, like myself, des- pise the flatterer." "Tell me, truly, do you despise the flatterer?"Mich asked. "I do from my heart; and I know that it could not have any influence with me, unless to make me dislike the flatterer." "Anna Hervey, how can you 'say that? Two days ago I would have believed you sincere, but you are not now. No, I wish I could believe you were," said the doctor, with emotion, as he rose to leave the room. For one moment every particle of color fled from Anna's cheeks and lips; but the deathly paleness was quickly suc- ceeded by the crimson flush of anger. Rising from her seat, she drew her tall figure up with all the dignity of a queen, and approached Doctor Foster, while her eyes glowed with an unnatural brilliancy, and was about to speak, when Mich started- from his seat, saying, hastily : OLOUDS AND 8,HADOWS. 369 "Anna, think before you speak. Excuse me, I will leave." "No, stay-for one moment, stay. Your good opinion I value, and I should surely lose it, if you believed what the doctor has said." "No, Anna, I do not wish to intrude upon your secrets. Do not think, for one moment, that I would harbor an unkind thought of you; but be careful that you are not deceived. Good morning," said Mich, as he hastily left the house. He dared not remain longer, lest he should betray the struggle in his own mind. He felt convinced now that what Benson had told him was true; and he also knew, from the doctor's manner and words, that he was not at all pleased, and that he thought that Anna had been won by flattery. He pondered over all that he had heard, while on his way back to the office, and debated in his mind what his duty might be. He knew now that he must resign all thought of Anna; but hew would not permit her to be deceived, and her whole life's happiness risked, if by his endeavors this great danger could be averted. He had been her friend and confidant since her childhood, and should he resign his privilege to watch over and protect her now that she most needed it? No. He would sacrifice his own feelings-his own hopes-but she should not be made unhappy, as he. knew she would be, if, in her blindness, she should unite her destiny with so artful a deceiver as Randall had proved himself to be. He resolved to watch closely, aud discover if what Ben. 16* page: 370-371[View Page 370-371] 870 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. son had said was really true. If Randall was worthy of her, he would not lay a straw in the way of her happiness. He would yield her up without hesitation. It was a great struggle to determine upon this. But Mich's unselfish, generous, noble soul, was equal to the exertion. 4 PRESSINO T-HE BIEE. 371 CHAPTER XVIll. PRESSING THE SIEGE. AFTER Mich had left the house, Anna went in search of her guardian. She found him in deep thought, pacing the library. When she entered he came directly to her, and said: "My dear girl, can you excuse your old friend's abrupt- ness?" The doctor's manner dispelled every vestige of anger from Anna.'s mind. She could not feel angry with him long, for she well knew that it was the interest he felt in her welfare, that made him often abrupt, even to rudeness-ai. notwithstanding it was very jarring to her sensibilities, he was willing to overlook the consequences to herself, in view of the motive. She held out her hand, saying: "' I can excuse everything but your doubt of my sincerity. Do you, can you believe that I would willingly blind either' you or myself? let us understand each other. I have avoid- ed speaking upon a subject that has occupied all of our thoughts this morning, because. I have felt that it was dis- page: 372-373[View Page 372-373] 372 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. agreeable to you, but this must not be-I cannot rest under your displeasure. Tell me plainly your objections to Edward Randall. Why do you think so meanly of me as to suppose that he has won my consent to marry him by flattery alone? Come, do sit down here on the divan with me, and let us talk soberly and without excitement, of what so much con- cerns my happiness." "Anna, you do not love hiP as you ought; it is not natural -it is not possible for you to reason thus calmly upon this subject. It is contrary to all I ever knew or heard of woman's nature." "Perhaps I am different from every other woman. But why is it contrary to woman's nature? Cannot woman, as well as man, lay aside romance and let reason have sway?' "Not where the affections are concerned ; neither man nor woman can do it entirely." "From experience I cannot judge, except in this one instance-but I surely can and will lay aside all romance, a d judge of the right or wrong, of the step I propose tak- I have been hasty, but that error is not irretrievable, jialthoh I should feel humbled to be obliged to acknow- ledge that do not know my own heart, or that my reason judgment cannot confirm its choice-still I can do it, I will, if you will convince me that you have just grounds for tyour opposition." "Well, first, Anna, you said that you would despise flatterers. I offended you by doubting your sincerity." "Not so much for the expression as the doubt-and that PRESSING THE SIEGE. 373 you should refer in the presence of another to. a subject which I consider a secret." "Why, Anna I I do not understand you-not tell Mich? He who has been your firm friend and confidant for so many years-is he now to be excluded?" "Doctor, you must remember we are children no longer. I could not converse with him as freely now as I havebere- tofore done--and besides that, I know that Randall and Mich do not feel very friendly to each other." "Anna, confess that you think that Mich would not approve your choice?" "Well, I do not know but I have that feeling. But it is a matter that does not concern him, and besides that, - think Mich has not seemed as friendly and cordial to me of late as usual, and I had rather he should not know of my engagement." "Humph! Mich ,not as friendly? No, I suppose not. "Well--well." "Never mind Mich now, doctor, let us talk. over my own affairs. You are decidedly opposed to my engagement with Edward Randall-; let us understand the matter now-tell me your objections fully?" f?: "I will do so. In the first place, yon know n';thi. his habits. He has been away from here lmost . for three or four years--now, Anna, wfi!do :oYU k his conduct during his'absence?9 " "Why, nothing Im particularh-bt/:oukno kept up a correlo ndence, and judge from 'lettS."' orro 4" "**' i " .- page: 374-375[View Page 374-375] 374 OLD H A UN, THE PAWNBROKER. t - "What can you know by them?" "I know him to be agreeable, talented, and honorable." "You know his language is." "Doctor, do not talk blindly. Do you know anything against his moral character?" "Anna, I will talk plainly-I do not know positively any- thing prejudicial to him, but I judge from many little things. What I most dislike in him, is his practice of attempting to flatter everybody with whom he comes in contact; now no sincere, generous, upright nature will do this. Hear me further. He does not waste his blandishments upon ladies alone, but also upon gentlemen. I have observed him closely--he comes around me with his cajoling that he may secure my good will. Now, Anna, if he were frank, open-hearted, and manly, I should like him much better." "Doctor, you censure that fault very severely-I do not think an honest and upright character incompatible with a flattering tongue. I will acknowledge that Randall is very much given to complimenting, but that is a folly of youth. Is that your objection-?" "No, indeed I He has no permanent business; from re- marks his fher has let drop, I judge that his wavering, bta7 unstable purposes have caused a great deal of trouble. Anna, believe me, for my experience qualifies me to '^ n^0K^ "'-better than you, that no man can be either useful, or contented, without some regular employment --something to occupy his time and thoughts." "I suppose you are right-but R anddstas some employ- PRESSING THE SBIGE. 875 ment. -He has been offered an interest in the extensive forwarding And commission house of the Messrs. Jones, and as soon as he is able to furnish a certain amount of capital, he is to be taken as a partner." "A certain amount of capital I and where pray is he to get that capital, living as he does now, and indulging in all the follies and expenses of a man of fortune?' when do you suppose will he accumulate anything?" - , "He has a large salary; I presume he does not spend it all. I know you judge him too harshy-- do not think he is extravagant." "Don't ehl? child, you don't know' anything about it- large salary H How much, pray? But there's no use stalking -you will not believe anything I may advance." "DQctor, do have patience with me-you cannot suppose I will take mere suppositions for facts, in a matter of such vital importance to myself. Have you nothing else against him?" "Yes, I believe he is deceiving you. If you had not money he would never have hovered about you as he has done for two months past. Your fortune----" \ No, no I I will not credit that. He could not be so base-you cannot believe it. Say, doctor, you do not thnk that?" "I do, Anna, from my soul I do. Edward Randall would not have sought your hand if you had been a poor girl." "I do not believe it-am I nothing of myself? Has the ? friendship of years been bought with money? Was not he page: 376-377[View Page 376-377] 376 OLD HA UN THE PASWNBROKER. the playmate of my childhood--my companion before I had anything but what your love provided me? And shall I believe now, since the friendship of childhood has ripened into love, that it is merely selfish? no, I will not; -you wrong him. If I could believe him influenced by so base a motive, I should surely lose all respect for him. For the fortune that has been bestowed upon me, I do not care ; for that, of course, will belong to my husband, whoever he may be, but I would be sincerely, honestly loved for myself alone. If not, what guarantee have I of continued happiness? wealth may be lost by some accident. That is a frail foundation to build happiness upon. But I cannot believe it of him." "What will convince you, Anna? Are you willing I should test him?" t "Yes, anything. I know he will prove true-but you wrong himn by the suspicion." "I hope I do, and that I may find myself mistaken. But in order that his motives may be correctly judged, he must remain in ignorance of my suspicions, for otherwise he will be on his guard-now, Anna, be guided by me. You are young, too young to marry yet-and if he urges an early. marriage, which I am convinced he will do-I want you to object. Do not refer to your property in any way, let him alone and see what he will do." "Oh, doctor I why have you filled my mindwith suspi- cions of his sincerity? You say I do not love him. If you could know the pain you have given me, by exciting distrust, you would recall your words." PBRE8sINo THE SIEGE. 8" "Anna, do not weep. I beg of you do not let what I havea said make you unhappy, for if he is really worthy of your love, he will prove it, and you will feel so much the' more secure of happiness." "It will be ungenerous for me to keep from his know- ledge my suspicions." "Not at all-believe him perfect until he proves himself otherwise. Forget what I have said for the present?" "I wish I could, but that is not possible. What would you have me do?" "Nothing, leave him to me. All I ask of you is to make no more promises, form no more plans without my know- ledge or advice. Will you do this?" "Yes, I am perfectly willing to do so. I am sorry I did make- any promises without your consent. But: I did not dream of any opposition or objections from you." "We'll let that pass. Dry your eyes, now, I do not like to see tears in them. - You know I would not cause you pain, except for your own good. I believe- that you are deceived-led away by smooth words and a fine exterior, and would you have me- could you expect I would sit quietly by, while I entertained this belief?" "No, I do notdoubt the kindness of your motives, but I cannot believe that there is any -foundation for such a belief." "Humph, unbelieving still--convince a woman against her will, and she remains of the -same opinion still." "Prove to me conclusively tiat his love is mercenary, ! page: 378-379[View Page 378-379] HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. and though it breaks my heart, I will resign him. I would not love him, no 1 I should scorn him, hate him for his meanness." " If I do not prove it to you, beyond a doubt, I will place your hand in his and bid you God speed-but do not let us talk of it any more-let me order the carriage for you, Anna, you said you had some shopping to do to-day, did you not ?" "I did think of going out, but I will postpone it until to- morrow." "Better go to-day-I will order the carriage-you must not go and brood over what I have said. Remember; you are to forget it all until I choose to call it to your recollec- tion, will you ?" "I will try to, but I do not expect to succeed." "All I ask of you is to delay the ratifying of your engage- ment ?" "I have promised I would. If you will go with me I will go out." " You had better go and get some of your young friends to go with you ?" "I do not feel like entertaining or being entertained to- day, and I know you will excuse my dullness. I do not like to go alone-will you go ?" "Yes, if you wish me to." Anna left the library to prepare herself for her shopping excursion, and the doctor ordered the carriage, in which they were soon seated, and rolled along the broad avenue, PRESSING THE SIEGE. 379 and joined the rapid current which ceaselessly runs through the: main artery of the commercial city. Several hours were passed in the selection of the different articles she needed, and in chatting with acquaintances whom she chanced to meet, when she returned home feeling in better spirits. After dinner, she took a new publication which she had that morning purchased, and endeavored to become interest- ed in it, but it was a vain attempt, for she was constantly glancing out of the window in expectation of a call from him who had been the subject of conversation with the doctor, longing, yet dreading to see him-strange as it may seem. She could not banish from her memory the conver- sation of the morning, and though she was very unwilling to believe the doctor's suspicions well founded, still they had a great influence with her, and she could not divest herself of the doubts and fears they had raised in her own mind. All that had been said to her by Randall, was dwelt upon and reviewed again and'again, to convince herself that she was loved as she wished to be; while thus engaged she heard some one enter the hall. She started from her seat to meet him, for she knew his step, but sank back again, as that dreadful doubt rushed through her mind, and instead of the cordial happy greeting he expected, he was met in a chilling manner.' This astonished him for a moment, but his vanity soon accounted for it satisfactorily to himself. He concluded she did -not wish to seem too forward, and that she preferred he should act the devoted lover,'which page: 380-381[View Page 380-381] 380 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. he was quite willing to do. Advancing, in the most' eager, earnest voice, he said, as he offered his hand : "My dearest girl, it seems ages since I saw you-I have done penance this day in staying away from you-come, sit down near me. Let me hold this fair hand in mine. Why, Anna I why so distant? you do not fear me, certainly. Anna, what does this coldness mean? Do you regret pro- mises you made me last night?" "No, no. But free -my hand, I would rather sit by the window. It will be a beautiful moonlight this evening." "Would you like to walk, Anna.? it will be pleasant, I think." "No, I thank you, I prefer to remain in the house. I have been out most of the day, and the doctor considers the night air unhealthy." . "Does he think your ride last evening had anyinjurious effects upon you?" "No, not that I am aware of." "Have you told him of your promise to me?" "Yes." "What does he say? I hope I shall find favor in his sight." "He thinks I have been hasty." "Do you wish you had been less so?" "I don't know. I hope I never shall have cause for wish. "Anna, do you doubt my love? Can vows, protestations of devotion, and sincerity, add to your confidence in me?" PRES SING THE SIE, E. 381 "No, no, I ask not for them, I prefer that your whole life may be an evidence of all that." "It shall be-give me but the right to be near you, and. every wish of your heart shall be gratified. Say, when will you be mine? Name an early day,' for, until I can claim you as my bride, I shall not be able give my thoughts or attention to anything else." "Oh, Edward I you must not speak of marriage, yet. IJ am too young. to think' of such a thing for a long time yet.* "Too young I You are not too young to Iove. Antia, do you love me? If so, why wish to put off the day when we may be all the world to each other?" "Why such haste, cannot you come often and see me? may we not enjoy each other's society every evening? You can come here :as often as you like, I will not debar you that privilege." .. "Oh, Anna Hervey! you do not love me. Anna, come and sit here by me-let me talk to you. You do not, .can- not understand or know the love that consumes me, if you would be content with such a measure of intercourse. Come, Anna, out of that cold moonlight." "Edward, you are exacting, but to please yon I will come. There, now I am seated by you--what more can you -urge here, than when I sat in 'that cold moonlight?'" "I can urge my love--Ican clasp this soft white hand in mine, and gaze into those Jiquid eyes. Oh, Anna, you are beautiful, you know not how beautiful to me." page: 382-383[View Page 382-383] 382 OLD HaTN, THE ?AWNBROKRB. "Edward, do not flatter me, do not I beg of you--you make me despise myself and doubt your sincerity." "Doubt my sincerity I Why, Anna, what do you mean? You say that to try me, and to pay for it, I shall -claim a kiss from those soft lips." - "I shall not grant it, then. You must not assume too many privileges." "Cruel girl I it is not a privilege, butsa right. Are you not my betrothed wife?" "Oh, well, I may change my mind, so I shall not grant you too much license until I am in reality your wife." "I shall take it then. Why resist me now, Anna? I have kissed you many a time when you were a little girl." "I am no longer a little girl. Edward, do not-I am in Jearnest-you will offend me-if you persist." Foolish girl-you cold-hearted creature, you do not love me, that is certain. Well, I will let you go this time, but I hope soon to have those rose leaves to taste whenever I please. Sit still, Anna, I will not annoy you with my un- welcome caresseS. Now, my love, when will you be mar- ried?" "When I am twenty." "Twenty 1 two years Do you think I will wait two years?" "You-will if you love me." - "It is because I do love you that I will not wait. Anna, you must be my wife now, very soon." "When would you call soon-I have a curiosity to know?" PRE$SINrG THE .SIEGE. 383 ' "To consult my own feelings alone, I should sayX to- morrow." "Edward Randall, -you are crazy !" "Only impatient for the privileges you deny me now. I know that would not accord with your feelings, and so I1 will say the first of June." ' "Why, it is-the middle of April now; only six weeks to get ready to be married in. Why, Edward, that would be too much haste altogether, even if I, were willing, .which I assure you I -am not." "When will you be willing ?-,name 'the earliest day." "I told you, when I am twenty." "You jest'; talk seriously, my love." "Never was more serious jn my life; for my part I do not consider marriage a suitable subject for jesting.'~- "Anna, you cannot really inteind- to make me wait -two long years." "Oh, they will quickly pass.?" "They will with you, but be endless if spent alone. Let me persuade you; why do you wish ito delay ? Tell me your reasons, if you have any." "I am too young." "Pshaw, nonsense; that is some of the doctor's teaching. I will not listen to such a foolish objection, for it is none in reality." "Indeed it is. I -have so nuch to learn yet before I am fit to assume the respoisibilities of a housekeeper.", "Who does the housekeeping now, pray " page: 384-385[View Page 384-385] 384 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNB'ROKER. "Oh, well, it will be a different matter entirely, keeping house for a husband. I am sure you would be more exact- ing, and more difficult to please than the doctor." "Indeed, I would not. I would lighten your care. It would be much easier, even if you wished to keep house; but that we need not do ; we could board, we would travel about for a time, spend the summer at- the different watering-places, and enjoy ourselves." "Oh, that I can do now." "Yes, that is true, but I cannot be with you unless you will consent to be married ; or rather, it would not be proper that I should be with you as constantly as I would like to be." "Suppose I did consent, could you leave your business to go about 1" "I should make it my business to go with you everywhere you might' wish, and -contribute in every possible way to your happiness. Say, dearest! do -you relent? Say you will be mine, mine this spring?" "No, Edward, I -cannot consent to so early a marriage, and more than that, I should be very sorry to have you neglect your business, or what was for your interest, for the sake of going about with me." "I should not be willing to hinder you from going and coming wherever it might suit your pleasure." "If so, why urge so early a marriage? we have been almost strangers to each other, during the four years past-- let us wait till we become better acquainted with each other's- PRESSING THE SIEGE. 385 disposition. There is no necessity for haste, we are both young yet." ' Why did you not think of all this last evening? Stran- gers! have we not known each other Tfrom childhood,' can I --am I changed? Anna, these are not suggestions of your own ; tell me is it not so. Has not the doctor advised you, and induced you to offer this opposition to-my wishes?" "He did advise me not to be in haste." "Does he approve of your engagement with me? Y. ou do not answer : I know now what this' hesitation means. But what objection can he offer? Say, will you not tell me?" "Edward, do not ask me, I cannot tell you. I think he has been prejudiced against you, but by whom I cannot tell." "By heavens! I'll find out. I know he does not like me Why, he knows bettersthan I do ; but, Anna, will you allow yourself to be influenced by him? He has no claim upon your obedience." "Edward, do not say that; has not he been father, friend, everything to me? He has every claim imaginable upon my love and respect. And if he oppose or object to your wishes, I feel assured it is- because he thinks it is for my n happiness to do so." "He might have other motives for his opposition to your marriage." , "What, pray?" "Your fortune would pass from his hands." "Edward Randall, what would you insinuate?" page: 386-387[View Page 386-387] 386 OLD H A U , THE PAWNBROKER. "Nothing ; forgive me, Anna, I do not know what I say, But I cannot lose you." "Delay does not imply any change in the final result." "It will, I see it plainly I will not consent to this delay; be mine now. Anna, do not deprive yourself and me of so much happiness as you will do by delaying -our marriage. I cannot consent to it." "You will be obliged to. If I am not worth waiting for, I am not worth the taking." "Oh, Anna, let me plead my love ; any sacrifice but that, I am willing to make to please you or your guardian, but this long delay is unreasonable-there is neither sense nor justice in asking it. You have promised to be my wife, and you must be. I will not release you from your promise." "I have not asked to be released; you allow your impa- tience to run wild with your reason and judgment. I ask for delay, and you talk as though that must separate us for ever." "It will. Doctor Foster never would object to me in this manner, unless he intended to prevent your marrying me. I say, I know he has some disguised motive ; there is some other person that he prefers-and I know who it is, too, but as there is a God in heaven, he will repent the day he approaches you." "Hush, hush, I say. Edward, you forget yourself; what do you mean--no living soul but you has ever spoken to me of love. Who do you mean? You are mistaken, I know you are." P RESSTIsr THE SIEGE. 387 "I am not. Be mine now; Anna, I cannot trust to time." "Have you no confidence in me, Edward?" "I cannot be secure of'your love until you are acknow- ledged before the world as my wife." "If I do not love you enough to remain constant for two years, what can you expect from marriage ?" "Everything. Once mywife, Anna, you will feel a deeper, i more ardent attachment than you feel now: I see your heart is but half awakened yet." "You destroy all the romance; the idea of marrying that I may love you more, is not agreeable to me. I think I love you very much now." "How composed and unconcerned you say that. I see plainly I must secure you now, or the little love you do feel for me will escape me. You will meet some one who will arouse that cold heart more than I have been able to do." "It would be unfortunate if I should marry you, and meet that some one afterwards. I should think, if you believe as you say, that I do not more than half love you, that you would be afraid to run such a risk. You seem very willing and urgent to take my half love ; that is contrary to what I have heard of men's dispositions." "Your half love is more than all the world beside to me, and as I said, you would love me more as your husband than you do now as a lover." "If you are willing to marry me, believing as you say, that I do-not more than half love you, I am not willing page: 388-389[View Page 388-389] 388 OLD HA UN THE PAWNBROKER. that you should. I think it very wrong for persons to marry unless they feel assured of each other's affection. IR' I had doubted yours, as you do mine I would not have con- sented so hastily." "You regret it now. Say so?" "I regret your impatience and want of confidence in me, nothing else." "If you do not regret your promise, and do love me, why will you not promise to marry me in June?" "Edward, we will not go over it all again, you cannot move me. I have promised to marry you, and intend to keep iny promise, but I will not be married so soon as the first of June, so let us talk of something else." "No, I will not. Why will you be so perverse? If that is too soon, set a time for yourself." "I have done so already." "-I will not wait two years. You do not---you are deceiving me. I will not submit to this." "Very well. I will release you from your engagement; perhaps it were as well to do so." "Anna, why will you tantalize me so?" "Edward, why will you be so foolish?" "Once more I ask you, Anna, will you marry me?' "Thi summer " "No." "When? Don't say two years again. I will not wait so PPRESSING THE SrEGE . 889 "Not one month less will H give up-my freedom ; for- I begin to discover I shall have a master when I take you for my husband." "Anna, I am your slave in everything else-you know it. All. I ask of you is to become mine beyond any earthly power-" to separate us-and you shall be 'as free as air. -I would not control even a thought. Pledge yourself to me. I care not how privately, how secretly." ' "Stop! Edward, do you know what you are saying,? Have I ever given you reason to suppose I would do so mean a thing?" "How could it possibly affect you? It should be a secret between ourselves." . - .. "Edward, do not make mie despise you. Let go df my hand. I cannot, I will not listen, to such persuasions." "Anna, sit still. Hear me, for one moment, hear me. Have you not yourself driven me to make this proposition? I ask you to become my wife; you say you will, but when? a delay beyond my powers of endurance. Now, your only objection is, that you are too young; you do not want to give up your freedom. As though by becoming my wife you would'in the least abridge it. If you will not become my wife before the world, I say I have not asked too much in asking you to pledge, yourself to me in private." "I have promised; that is as binding upon me as any words or a6t of mine could make it, except I take upon my- self the marriage vow; that I hope you do wt-thik I would page: 390-391[View Page 390-391] 890 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. do, unless publicly, and with the consent and approbation of my guardian." "Suppose he never will consent or approve, what will you do then. Shall I be sacrificed?" "He will consent, if I wish him to. I mean, if it is for my happiness that I should marry you." "You say if you wish him to. What do you mean?" "I should not wish him to consent, if he thought us not suited to each other.:' "Who is the best judge in this case, he or ourselves?" "Ourselves at present; but it is possible that we may change our opinion. Perhaps, if you wait awhile you may be glad I have influenced you to do so." "Not influenced-compelled would be a much better term. I shall not change. You, I see, have regretted already your promise, but I will not release you." "I do not wish to be released; and I assure you once more, I do not regret it." "Well, to convince me that you do not, say that you will marry me this spring. Do not answer, wait till I have finished. Think of it to-night ; consult your own heart, your own feelings. Do not ask the advice of the doctor. He is not capable of judging of my feelings, he cannot comprehend the ardor and impatience of a love like that which I cherish for you. You are my guardian angel; for you and with you I could battle manfully with the trials and troubles of life- but if I must wait long, long years, my energies will flag, my PRESSING THE SIEGE. 391 interest in ever thing will fail--and when you are ready to give me your hand I shall not be worthy of you, if that hour should ever arrive. Be mine now, while life and hope are strong within us. What have you to fear, what to dread. You are alone in the world; what if this old man should die? who would you have then to depend upon? I might be far away, unless you give me the right to be for ever near you; for to come here and sit and look at #you, and hear you speak, is not enough to satisfy such a nature as mine. I want to feel that you are mine; that I may clasp you to me, and shield you from danger; to feel your soft breath upon my cheek, and hear words of love in my ear. Weep- ing, are you weeping, Anna? You do relent; you will 'be mine. Say you will be mine?" "No, Edward, no. Do not tempt me. You carry me away uponi the tide of your imagination. I love you. I would not lose your love, but I cannot promise to marry you yet. Sometime, but not this summer." "Cold, cruel, selfish girl, -go. I will not detain you longer. You do not love me." "Edward, do not go in anger. Stay?" "Will you promise?" "I cannot. You know I cannot without his knowledge. If you are so anxious, why not get his consent?" "Have you not told me that he will not consent? -Shall I present myself to him to be refused? It is enough for me to know it from your lips." "You are unjust, unreasonable, Edward. You ask of me page: 392-393[View Page 392-393] 392 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. what you have no right to ask. You wish me to disregard the wishes of my best friend." "Well, if his friendship is worth more to you than my love, keep it. Good-bye." "When shall I see you again, Edward?" "I do not know as you ever will. You will not grieve if you do not." "How unkind I Edward, I do not deserve such treat- ment as this." "Forgive me, Anna, let me go before I offend again." "Will you come to-morrow evening?" "Yes. Anna, pray have mercy upon me when I do come. Good-bye." "Good-bye," said Anna, as she gave him her hand; he then left the room, and soon after Anna watched his retreat- ing figure in the pale moonlight. But little sleep visited her eyes that night. All of her lover's ardor, impetuosity, and impatience came back to her mind. Could it be, she asked again and again of -herself that the suspicions of the doctor were well founded could he possibly plead his love so earnestly, if he did not feel it? could all this be true? If so, whom should she believe, whom trust? He had been her friend and com- panion for years-ever since her childhood. Could it be he would feign a passion he did not feel, for mere mercenary considerations? Ah I little did she know of the deceit and dissimulation men are capable of using. TRAILING THE FOX. 393 CHAPTER XIX. TRAILING THE FOX. EARLY on the following day, Doctor Foster went to con- sult with his attorney, Mr. Pierce. From the little that had come to his knowledge, he had been enabled to gather the substance of the conversation of the, previous evening, and it was on this account that he sought his lawyer. Anna had not communicated to the doctor the urgent appeals of Ran- ' : dall to induce her to consent to an early marriage, nor the persuasions he had used. She felt ashamed to do so ; she felt conscious that the doctor would think less of him even than he did now, if he were to know all that had passed; and she concluded to keep to herself what had transpired. She thought over all that he-had urged, and was almost in-; clined to yield to his persuasions, and be married sooner than she had at first intended, but then the questions recurred to her, Why is he in such haste? Can it be from any un- worthy motive? While she was debating these questions alone in her chamber, Doctor Foster and Mr. Pierce were doing the same in the office of the latter, Mr. Pierce knew page: 394-395[View Page 394-395] 394 OLD HA U N , THE PAWNBROKER, nothing in particular of Edward Randall, and consequently could give the doctor but little advice, but he promised to learn something about him-for he agreed with the doctor that it would be wrong to allow a marriage to be consum- mated between his ward and a man whose only aim was to possess himself of her property, for the purpose of squander- ing it away upon his own indulgences. Knowing her pecu- liar sentiments, they foresaw that she would not consent to have it settled upon herself, and therefore, after debating the matter a long time, the doctor consented to leave it entirely to Mr. Pierce, to obtain information of Randall's habits and intentions, as he could best do it, without his motives being suspected. Immediately upon the doctor's leaving his office, Mr. Pierce went into an adjoining- room where Mich sat engaged in writing, and said to him: "Mich, come in here a few moments, I have got some- thing to do, about which I think you can assist me." "You have had Doctor Foster closeted with you, have you not?" said Mich, following Mr. Pierce into his private room. "Yes-and it is an affair of his, that I want your help upon. His ward is about to marry it seems, and the old doctor does not feel quite satisfied with the young man, and he wants to learn something more of his habits, and also to discover whether his motives are those which alone should actuate him f The doctor is suspicious, whether with reason or not I cannot say, but it is rather out of my TRAILING THE FOX. 395 line of business. Still, as the doctor is an old .friend, and this young lady a client of mine, I feel considerable interest in. em, and should be sorry to see so handsome a fortune as hers squandered." ' What do you wish me to do, sir?" "Do you know a young man by-the name of Edward Randall?1" "Yes." - "You do not look very much pleased with the business, Mich. If you have any objections to attend to it, I will get one of the clerks, although I would prefer that no one should know anything about it but ourselves." "I am perfectly willing, sir, to do all that I can in the matter,". said Mich, with forced composure. "Mich, what is the matter with you? yesterday and to- day you have not acted as though you had energy enough to get about. Are you sick?" "No, sir, I am perfectly well. I will endeavor to rouse myself if you will tell me what you wish done." "Well, the doctor suspects that this Randall wants Miss Hervey for her money only; he wants some proof of this- if it is to be found, and also he wants to discover something particular about Randall's habits, for he thinks that he is wild, extravagant, and dissipated; now, you will be better able to learn about this than I -could, and I want- you should find where and with whom he is in the habit of going-can you?" "I think I can. But does the doctor think that anything / page: 396-397[View Page 396-397] 396 OLD \HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. he may learn about Randall will change Miss Hervey's feel- ings?" "Certainly he does. She has promised to resign him for ever, if he shall find his suspicions confirmed. She'says she cannot respect him, if he has attempted to deceive her." "Does she say that? But I might have known it." "Why, Mich, why should this electrify you so? Ah, Mich, boy ; is this the secret?" "Secret?" "Secret-yes, secret. This is no news to you, is it?" "I had heard of the proposed marriage before." "When did you hear of it?" "Day before yesterday, I think it was." "Think? you don't know certainly, 1 suppose. Ah, Mich I murder will out." "I don't know what you mean, sir--it is nothing so very remarkable that I should hear of it, as she is an old acquaintance of mine." "Oh, no-certainly not, nothing remarkable either that you should feel very much interested in the matter. Well, well, Mich, she is a charming girl, and we must not see her sacrificed. You will see about this, then?" "Yes, sir, immediately; upon one condition, that no one knows of my knowledge or interference." "All right-I will keep your counsel." "I will go now and see a young man who is on intimate terms with Randall," said Mich, as he left the office. He went directly in search of Beqson, Finding him, he TRBAILIN THE FOX. 397 said, as he sauntered along into the office in a leisurely manner. "Come, Benson, it is too fine a day to sit hived up in the office. Go out with me and take a stroll, will you?" "Yes, I will be glad to do so. But what -has come across you-you are generally the studious one?"' "Times are changed you know, since I got my papers. 1 I feel rather lazy of late. How is your eye to-day?" "It is black you see yet. I would like the chance to balance my account with Randall." "Have you seen him since?" "Yes, last night. I saw him in Thompson's? "Did he say anything more to you?'i "No, not to me, for I did not give him an opportunity-- but he was bragging as usual, and retailing his own affairs to the public. I make it a rule to believe only about half of what he says. Still, I believe he told. the truth the other night about being engaged, but I should not suppose any sensible girl would have him, much less that Miss Hervey." "I should not think any one would if they could really understand his character. But what was he speaking of last night?" "Oh, about a span of horses, he said' he had bought yesterday. Where the deuce he gets money to buy fast horses with, is more than I can imagine." "Has he been buying fast horses?" "I heard him telling some one so, and betting on them, page: 398-399[View Page 398-399] 398 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. "I should not suppose he was able to buy fast horses- but perhaps his income is larger than we suppose." "Well, I don't know what his income is, but he is always flush, and spends a great deal of money--more at any rate than we poor devils of lawyers or lawyers' clerks can-but I have heard it hinted that he could not do so if he did not keep the cash account." I "How is he situated there, do you know?" ?i "Well, I do not know exactly, but he is sort of head book-keeper and has a certain share of the profits, I believe, At any rate he has the power to draw moneys in the name of the firm, and perhaps that will account for his being so well supplied with the ready, all the time." "Benson, that is a very grave accusation, and you ought not to make it unless you have substantial reason for belie7- ing it." "Grave or not, I believe it. But what- if he does? It is no more than hundreds do every day. These clerks get ahead of their salary pretty often." I "Ahead of their salaryl That is, I suppose, another name for embezzling." * "Yes, but I doubt if you could make it a criminal offence --the law could not touch him." I "Perhaps not, but that does not alter the fact itself-it is equally dishonorable." "I presume he would not consider it so; but I could not help thinking, when I heard him telling of his horses, that the money to pay for them probably came from his employers' Dockets instead of his own." TRAILING THE FOX. 399 "Do you candidly believe Randall would do such a thing?" "Believe that he would,! I know that he does. Still I presume that he does not intend they-shall ever know it, or be the losers by him." "But how can he expect ever to replace it? if' he spends his income as I suppose he does." "The Lord only knows ; but perhaps he intends that his future bride shall pay his debts for him." "He may not get the one he expects." "I fancy it's a sure thing or he wouldn't launch out in this way--but it will be too bad--won't it though?-for him to get such a fortune?" "Why are not you willing to have him get it?" "Because he will spend it all, and then he will neglect his wife. It is a pity she could not know what a scoundrel Randall is." "So it is ; if Randall really is a rascal-but what do you know about him, besides what you have told me?" "Nothing of importance-he drinks freely, but that's all a matter of taste." "Yes, and a bad taste too in my opinion-but I'm afraid, Benson, you see all his faults through that black eye he gave you." "That is not so. I never did fancy him very much, and I like him less now. Still I would not on that account, attempt to prejudice any person against him.". "I never heard that he was intemperate. Do you mean that he is addicted to drink?" page: 400-401[View Page 400-401] 400 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Yes, I believe that he takes a horn very often, and as I often as he can without being observed; he likes it, but is too cunning to drink where there is any chance of its being suspected or ever heard of by his relatives." "When does he do it, then V" . "Why, in the evening mostly-then there is no danger of its being discovered." "Is it possible. I can scarcely believe it. I did not know he had such an inclination." "How long have you known him V" "I used to meet him once in a while when I was a young boy, but have seen nothing of him for several years until quite recently;" "You knew him, then, before he went away--was he all straight then!" "Yes, I knew nothing against him particularly, although I never liked him very much-he must have contracted- these habits while he was away." "Yes, I presume so. I have heard him talk by the hour of his scrapes, and the fun he had after he got away from under the governor's eye, as he calls his father." "Where did you get acquainted with him, Benson?" "Well, I don't remember-in one of the saloons I believe among the boys." "I hope you. do not frequent the saloons, Benson." "No, not much, although more than I intend to in future. I am ashamed of this eye. It is the first time I have had a black eye since I was a little boy." TrA IlPING THE FOX. 401 "I am glad to hear you say that, for I am sure there can )e but little pleasure in getting together to pass your time j in drinking-besides, you must do great injury to your lealth and reputation."' "How is it, Lynch, you never got into any of these habits?"?- "Well, one reason is, because I never had any money to' waste-and another, that I never had any inclination for such amusements." "WeA you are fortunate in being poor, then. I should have been a- good deal better off now, if I had not had a cent but what I earned." "Could not you resist the temptations?" "No, while I had a dollar left-the society of young men like myself was not to be foresworn; but I must give it up now, whether or no-for without money, one does not count much among fast young men." "I should not wish to. I see- they have got the soda- fountain at work in here. Come in and take a glass-it is better than all the brandy ever made." - "Every one to his taste. I must confess I like a good horn of brandy-but it is rather warm to-day, and I think a glass of soda will be agreeable ; buti look, here, Lynch, you won't mind what I have said about Randall.- I would not care about his hearing what I have said, for he is a devil of a fellow when he gets mad." "If I should ever have occasion to make use of what you have said, your name shall not be mentioned-but will you - ' page: 402-403[View Page 402-403] 402 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. assure me that what you have said of him is true, according to your honest opinion." "Why, what do you care about him? You seem very much interested." "I am somewhat so; but you need not fear my getting you into trouble-come, let us go in." The young men then went into a drug store near, and drank some soda-and then retraced their steps to their offices. Mich reported to Mr. Pierce what he had learned from Benson, which astonished him very much ; and after- listening to his report, Mr. Pierce remarked: "Mich, you may rely upon what I say-that Randall is an unprincipled fellow, and he will get himself into trouble yet." "What do you propose doing about it?" "Nothing, at present; we will wait and hear what the doctor says; what we do, will depend entirely upon the wishes of Miss Hervey. He cannot control her, of course. She is of age, and her own mistress, but I hope she will be advised, and influenced by the doctor to wait, at least-even S if we cannot convince her that he is an unworthy object of her esteem and love." "He is as cunning as a serpent, although not as harmless as a dove, and it will require some exertion to thwart him in his schemes, I can assure you, sir." ' That may be very true, Mich, but if he is the rascal I think he is, he shall not have this girl, nor her property either, if I can prevent it-which I am determined to do." "God grant you may," ejaculated Mich, as he left the TV'AILING THE FOX. -403 : office, and resumed the business which he had laid aside in the early part of the day. "While Mich and Benson were so busily discussing the character of Randall, he, himself was on his way up to Doctor Foster's residence, seated in a fine carriage, and driving a splended span of bays. He found Anna at home, and quite willing to ride with him, and they were soon dash- ing along at a rapid rate, upon one of the principal avenues leading out of the city. They conversed but little, and; on indifferent topics, for Randall's attention and thoughts were centered upon his fine horses. -He called upon Anna to admire their beauty, grace, and speed; and to acknowledge his taste in the selection of an equipage. She was rather surprised to learn that it was his own, and after a moment's hesitation said : "Are these horses yours, Edward?" "Yes, I bought them yesterday. I would not exchange them for any span there is in this city to-day." "They must be very valuable, I should suppose. How much did you give for them?" "A thousand in cash-and I would not sell them for twice the money." "You are very fond of horses, are you not 2" "Yes, I always"was. To be able to drive a span like this has always been my ambition. Now you just see how . neatly I'll pass that carriage in front of us." "Be careful, Edward, it seems to be a spirited horse, that - the gentleman is driving. I am afraid you will get to racing. page: 404-405[View Page 404-405] 404 OLD HAUIJ, THE PAWNBROKER. "Nonsense, Anna, I can distance him without even try- ng the mettle of my own." "With these words he pulled the reins taut, and gave the horses the word as he reined out to pass, but observed that the gentleman in front touched up his own horse, which i was a fine animal. For an instant they were neck and neck, but the race was short-Randall glided ahead, leaving the stranger in their rear. As Randall shot past, he turned to cast a sneering glance upon his competitor. He did so, and as their eyes met, Randall quickly averted his head, and muttered to himself, "Curse it," while a troubled expression flitted over his face. "What is it, Edward?" inquired Anna. "Nothing, nothing," Randall replied, in a hurried and agitated manner. "Do not drive so fast-I am afraid the horses will run. What is the matter?" "I wish I had not driven past that man." "Why? Do you know him?" "Yes, and he does not like to acknowledge any horse better than his own. I'm afraid I have offended him." "Well, what do you care? Don't look so surly about that-you look really unamiable." "Do I, that is nothing strange-for I have felt so since last evening. - You can make me amiable again, if you wish to," said Edward, checking the pace of his-horses. "Me-I am afraid I have not influence over you sufficient for that.' "Try and see--promise to marry me this spring, and I TRAILING THE FOX. .405 will promise you shall never see a frown on my face again." . "Oh, Edward, do not refer to marriage again in six months, at least. If you cannot be amiable for the sake of winning me, I am fearful your promise would not be good for much, if I consented." "Anna, your indifference and determined opposition to my wishes will drive me to desperation. Why will you not consent? "Why are you in such haste? I cannot, for my life, imagine why you are in such a hurry. I am contented as I am. Come, Edward, be reasonable. Don't talk of marriage any more at present, let us change the subject-I think it must be time-we were returning to the city. Yes, it is one o'clock-turn. back, Edward. You know I told you I have an engagement at three." "Your time is not right.' "Yes it isj for- my watch has-just been regulated." "I see plainly, no one must question youn on anything 'i that belongs to you. Anna, you are obstinate; you persist in this, I believe, merely for the sake of tyrannizing over me." "It: is not so, Edward, I am only firm in, doing what I consider right. The doctor thinks I am- too young to marry --and I febl'bound to comply with his wishes.' "Anna, you are your ownm mltress; The dbctorhas no authoriVty over" yopn nowl andv you are not- bound to consider his wishes in; opposition to 'your own inclinations-for I'" know if it werer not for him ,you would comply." page: 406-407[View Page 406-407] 406 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. E "Perhaps so, but I am not at liberty to do so-for I have promised him I would not marry without his consent, before I am twenty; so if you want me you must first get that con- sent." "He had no right to bind you by any such promise." A "He has every right, Edward. I will not let you speak A so disrespectfully of him ; you need not waste words about it, for I tell you once more, and finally, that I will not k marry without his consent-so if you feel so sure that your reasoning would be vain to secure that, you must wait patiently until the the time arrives, when, according to his ideas, I am old enough to marry." "Two years. Well I suppose I shall have to endure it- but how, I cannot imagine. But here we are home again, so good-bye," said Edward, alighting, and assisting Anna out of the carriage. "Come in and rest a while, Edward." "No, I thank you, I must go back to the dull counting- room. It will be duller than ever after basking in the sun- shine of your presence. Oh, Anna, why will you be so cruel and hard-hearted?" "Off with you, and stop teazing-but remember I shall expect you this evening." ' "I shall not be likely to forget," said Edward, as he bowed gracefully, and drove away. The smiles and pleasant expression vanished immediately from his countenance, as he turned from Anna's sight, and a deep and sullen gloom usurped their place. He drove ) TKAILING THE FOX. 407 slowly towards the stable; delivering his horses to the care of an ostler, with some directions as to the mapagement of them, he started for his place of business--arriving there, he took his station at the desk, and was soon, to all outward appearance, busily engaged, but his thoughts were far away. He had not been there long, when the senior member of the firm entered. Approaching him, he said in a most freezing manner "Mr. Randall, walk up into my room, if you please, I wish to have some conversation with you." "Yes, sir, presently," he replied, as with a flushed coun- tenance he bent over the ledger. "Now, if you please. It is a matter that will admit of no delay," said the gentleman, leaving the office. Edward soon followed him to bis private room: entering he said, in a bold manner : "What is it, sir ?" "Close the door, if you please: there is a slight discre- pancy in the accounts ; here, sir, perhaps you will be able to explain it," said he, pointing to some books lying open before him. Upon glancing at them, Randall discovered the check book and the cash book before him, which were usually in his charge, but which he had not missed from his desk. "What do you mean, sir?" "I mean that you have drawn five thousand dollars from the bank more than you have accounted for on the cash book." "It is not so, sir." page: 408-409[View Page 408-409] 408 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Do you deny it in the face of these books?" "I can account for every dollar drawn." "I presume you can. Will' you be good enough to do so. There is a voucher that I have just received from the bank. Can you explain to me for what that check was ! given? It is for one thousand dollars." "Give me time, sir, to look over the books, and I shall be able to explain at once. I may have made some mistake." "Perhaps I Mr. Randall, you need not attempt to deceive me in this matter. I have trusted you blindly, on account of the respectability of your connexions, but my eyes are opened. Account to me instantly for the moneys you have drawn, or I will send for an officer." "Send for an officer then, if you please, and you will find' you cannot touch me. I have your authority, in writing, to draw moneys whenever I saw proper, and I have not exceed- ed my right." "You had authority to draw moneys for the use of the firm in its legitimate business, but not to buy fast horses, sir--those I saw you driving this morning will account for a share of the deficient sum, I suppose." "Those were not my horses-some I hired from a livery establishment." "You are laboring under a slight mistake, sir. I return- ed immediately after you passed me, for I recognized the horses as being the very ones that had been offered me last week, but which I thought too expensive for my means. I went to the person who had offered them to me, and learn- TRAfLINO 'TH'E F-OX. 409 ed, to my astonishment; that you had bought them. Yes, sir, I say bought them, and not only that, but paid- for them, too." "And whose business is it what I spend my money for?" Randall answered, boldly. "You have, undoubtedly, a right to spend your own money as you please, but not to spend mine-and by a marvellous coincidence, I find that this check bears date-on the same day the horses were purchased, and therbe seems to be no corresponding entry in the bookg." "I may have omitted as yet to enter it." "Yes, I think you may have," answered sarcastically, Randall's employer. "But I have no time to waste in words. Since meeting you on the road this morning, I have made some inquiries into-your habits, and find that you have lived at a rate that no ordinary salary could warrant. I have also examined our books of account, with the help of my partner, and am very certain that five thousand dollars -would not make us whole for the amount you must hav:e-used for your- self. This sum you must repay, and then, sir, youn are at liberty to obtain. another situation." "If I have Qverdrawn my account I expect to replace "Do it then, and the sooner the betterY "I beg of you, sir, do not dismiss me. I will repay you all I have overdrawn; only give me time. I promise you, I will not be guilty. of this again." "Plainly, sir, or I have no farther confidence in you, and page: 410-411[View Page 410-411] H AUK, THE- PAWNBROKER. our business connection must. cease, and more. than ' tht-- when cojld you ever pay me from your salary? But before you are at liberty you must make some arrangement of this matter. Go and get some one to advance the sum for you: your father, perhaps. I will send for him." "No, sir. I beseech of you do not let my father know it. He could not pay you, and he must know nothing of it; it would kill him. Only wait three months, and I will pay you every cent with interest." "How do you expect to get it, in that time, if you have nothing now?" i- I expect a large fortune. I have the promise-of it- only wait, and I will pay you all: but if you expose me, nowi I shall lose every chance of getting it, and I shall never be able to pay you." "What the d--l do you mean. Have you been speculat- ing with our funds?' "No, I have not been speculating but only believe me. It is so. I did not intend you to lose anything by me, as you will not, if you will wait, and not expose me." "You must tell- some more. plausible story than that.- I am, undoubtedly, far behind the spirit of the age, as I cannot understand how you expect to. get a fortune in so short a time. Explain youro eaning."- "I had rather not; I am not at liberty to. Take my word for it, and all will be rranged, as I have said, I asure you. We might as well drap that prt Of the subject If you have any explanation to make, make it at once." TWAl -' yu II sGa TA a x. h41t' yo1 "Well, you saw that-young lady with me this moning, I am going to marry her in a few weeks, and as soon as I am married,- I 'will pay you with interest "Has she property. Who is it?' "Miss Hervey. She is worth motrethan a -hunded thou- sand. So you see, you need not be afraido lofing what I owe you" "Oh! that is it. I will inquire about that. What is her father's name?" "She has no parents. She is mistress of her own fortune, and I promise you, as soon as I am married, to pay jy "Will you give me your- note, payable, in two months, ' with interest." " - "Yes, I will do it now." . "Not too fast, not too fast. Your' note might not be vry current, in case what you have stated, should happen not to be true. I must make soime inquiries first." ' I am perfectly willing that you should.-4and you will be satisfied that what I have told you is true." "I will take your note, and you rmain here until ou have, paid me. After that you. must leave. D'uning the remainder of the time, I will take hargg. ofthe cash depl'r ment myself." I hope, air, you will not imentionthis to -ay one, - "Not unless it shouid; bei neeessbay.- "Yon will lose your tno it you di .sit, y Wo t UFly upon ith-for I' "nothing to dei& eupin- but *haUt I expectf to get, by. ^ my'; "' ' " ' ' J ' page: 412-413[View Page 412-413] "2 OLD HAUN, THE. PAWNBROKEB. "Well, to secure my money, I will do as you wish; if after inquiring, I find you have told the truth: where does the young lady live?" "For God's sake, do not go to her, or let them suspect anything out of the way." "So you-think she would not have you, if she knew what a rascal you are. Well, I think she would show her good sense ; but that's a matter I will not meddle with; but you must tell me where I can learn the truth of your statement, for I cannot rely upon your word."- "Well, she is the ward of Doctor Foster. Pierce, -No.- Nassau street is her lawyer, and you would learn that this is true, by inquiring of him. But, sir, why will not you believe me? I swear it is true." "If you had not lied to me about those horses. After what has come to my knowledge, why should I believe you; tell me that. No, sir, I shall go and inquire. You will please remain here while I am gone," said he, rising, to leave the room. Randall stopped him, again beseeching him not to expose him-which his employer promised, and left the room. Randall threw himself upon a seat, and fell into deep study. He did not feel much fear of being exposed, if he could only keep his promise, for he knew that his,^employer, from interested motives, would probably think proper to keep the affair quiet. But he did grealy fear that he should not be able to persuade Anna to marry him so soon. Still the necessity was urgent, and it must be done in some way, and T. TRA-ILING THE OX. $ ' : ' he had, therefore, by the time his employer returned, decided to make the attempt. "Well, young man, are you ready now to give me your note?" said the merchant, as he entered. "You found what I told you to be true, I supposed" "I did not find Mr. Pierce, but a clerk of his told me enough to convince me you told me the truth, although he seemed to doubt Miss Hlervey's marriage occurring very soon. But I leave that for-you to arrange." "Who did you see?" "I don't, know what his name is ; a young man answered my inquiries. We will draw up, that note, sir, and I will then dispense with your services." "You said I could -remain." "Well, upon thought, I have changed my mind-give me your note." Randall demurred somewhat to this change in the terms, of the contract, but seeing no alternative, reluctantly signed his name. As soon as the matter was disposed of, he took his hat and left, unresolved where to go, or what to do-but with the one hope predominant, of repairing his fortunes by an immediate marriage. page: 414-415[View Page 414-415] "4 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. CHAPTER XX. SETTING THE TRAP. "HAvE you had a pleasant ride?" said the doctor, as Anna entered the library, upon her return. "Very, it is a delightful morning. Are you at leisure now, doctor?" "Entirely so. Anything I can do for you, Anna?" "I would like to have a few moments conversation with you." "I suppose you want to talk about Randall. Has he been persuading?" "Not only persuading, but teazing, importuning. Now, I want to know if you are ready and willing to give your consent to my marriage?" "When does he want you to be married?" "Very soon; immediately he would like to be, and if you have found no good reason for delaying it, why should we?" "Anna, you are too young, entirely too young to marry. I should not be willing you should marry any one for a long time yet, and I certainly am not willing you should marry Edward RandalL" SETTING THEE TRAP. 415 "Do tell me. Have you discovered anything to confirm your suspicions. - I know you wrong him; but I am willing to wait until you are convinced of the fact: but as to my being too young, I do not think so, although that is the only reason I can urge for delay, or at least, I give that as your, reason for wishing me to delay." "I am glad, my dear girl, you are willing to be guided - in this matter by my wishes, and I feel assured that you will never regret it, for although I have nothing yet to tell you that would shake your confidence in his integrity, still my opinion is not changed." "I am very sorry to hear you say that, but yet, I do not fear but all will come out right at last, although it is annoy- ing to me to be importuned as I am, anid be unable to give my real reason for wishing to delay. I feel that I am deal- ing very ungenerously by him." "Well, well, time will tell, but I say again, Anna, you are too young to marry." "Nonsense, doctor. Why half the women in the world marry before they are of my age.- "I know they do, and that is the very reason I want you should wait. The evidences of their imprudence are con- stantly before us ; if it were not so, I should not insist upon your waiting, as I do." "What do you mean? I have finished my education, Ohave plenty of property to support us, even without exer- tion on Edward's part. So what is there to hinder?" "Anna, in all your studies, have you ever learned any. page: 416-417[View Page 416-417] "6 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. thing of your own physiology. Have you not learned that until you have attained strength and maturity, you are not fit to take upon yourself the duties of married life.? "I never was sick a day in my life that I can remember. I am perfectly strong and healthy. Your reasoning might be good if I were a sickly delicate creature." "You do not know ; your constitution has not been tried. You might escape the evil eonsequences that fall to the lot of many who try the experiment, but you run a great. risk. Remember your own mother, she was by many years too young, to have the care of you, when you came to claim it, and although as yet, by attention and proper treatment, you have not shown any symptoms of tdisease, you cannot hope to escape entirely, the punishment nature invariably inflicts upon those who infringe her laws. You are healthy now, but you have not reached maturity yet ; remain as you are, free from care, and all calls upon your strength, for a few years, and you may never suffer as the majority of womden do in the present age. Do you understand me, Anna?" "Yes, and I think I fully appreciate all you have advanced. You are kind and considerate, and I know I owe my present health, and my freedom from sickness to your watch- ful guardianship over me; and to prove to you my gratitude I promise you I will not speak of marriage again in a long time." "Anna, you could notplease me more than by doing so; but how is it that Randall leaves it for you to gain my con- SETTING ,THE TRAP. 417 sent to your marriage? I should suppose he would try him- self, if he is so very anxious." "He thinks you are prejudiced, against him." "Is that all? Do not be afraid to tell me." "Well, no. He thinks it is a matter in which I am alone concerned, that I am my own mistress, and can do as I like." "That is so. You can do as you like, but I hope you will never choose to do anything that is contrary to what you are fully convinced is right and proper." "Believe me, I will not., Though to gratify my own inclinations I should yield to his persuasions, perhaps, still, my judgment tells me that it would be wrong to do so; I hope you feel confidence in what I say.'" "Yes, I do, but I believe, Anna, that your firmness will be sorely tried; but I do hope and trust, that you will not yield to any solicitations." "Why, doctor, why do you think so? Any one, to hear you, would suppose you were afraid I should be tempted to elope, or do some other foolish thing; but thank fortune there will never be any necessity of my being tested in such a manner." "Well, well, go along now, and get ready to go out. Your friend will be waiting for you." "I had forgotten all about my engagement. I wish I had not made any for to-day. Heigh-ho, I do not feel in the mood for paying visits." "Child, how foolish you talk, go, the carriage has been standing at the door this half hour." page: 418-419[View Page 418-419] "8 OLD H A U N THE PAWNBROKER. After Anna's departure, the doctor went to the office of Mr. Pierce. Entering, he accosted him with: "Good day, friend Pierce-any news for me?" ' Not much, but I think I have learned enough to con- vince you, that you are doing right in withholding your con- sent to the marriage. But, d6ctor, are you sure that they will wait for your consent?" "I know that young scamp would not wait, if he could coax or wheedle Anna into it; but that he cannot do, so I shall rest easy." "Love affairs are materially different from every other sort of affairs, so do not trust too much to your influence over the young lady." '. Why, I told you, she had promised me that she would not marry without my consent." "All very true, doctor, but she may not consider her pro- mise binding in this case." "You do not know her, or you would not say that: she is as firm as a rock, when she has once made up her mind and given her word. I have convinced her that it is better for hbr to wait for a time yet, and she has promised to do so, although, as yet, she will not believe one word against Ran- dall, and I thought it best not to say anything more about him at present." "That is just as well; but I do not believe we shall have to wait long, for there is something in the wind, I am confi- dent." "What have you heard P' SETTING- THE T A? 419 "While I was gone out of the office, about an hour ago, a gentleman came in and inquired for me. Mich told him I was not in, but that he would take charge of any business he might have. He said he had no business in particular, but wished to inquire where you lived. Mich told him, and then he inquired whether there was a young lady living with you by the name of Hervey. Whether she had any property, and whether it was controlled by herself or by you. Mich told him that Miss Hervey was of age, and controlled it herself." "Who was it?" ' Mich said he had never met him, and that he declined giving his name, saying he would go immediately to you. Have you seen any one?" "No; I came directly from the. house. I may have- pass- ed him. I wonder who it can be?"' "Doctor, I -don't believe he wanted to see you; if so, why should he come here and ask me, when he could so easily have ascertained your residence, by looking in -the direc- tory? ' "That's -true. But what does it mean?" "I believe it has something to do with this Randall, and I mean to find out what it is, too. I should not -be at all surprised if he was sent by Randall, to learn what he could about the property." . "Was that all he said?" "No. He asked if Miss Hervey was to be married soon;i and Mich told him he had heard a report to tlt effect, but could not answer for it's truth," page: 420-421[View Page 420-421] 420 OLD HA U N THE PAWNBROKER. "Tis strange. Oh, that Randall is a rascal, you may depend upon it. If he get's Anna Hervey's money while I live, he will have to steal it," said the doctor, pacing the office, in an excited manner. "Doctor, don't let this trouble you, for if you -feel sure that she will not be persuaded or coaxed into it, you have nothing to fear." "Well, good-morning. I must go home to dinner," said the doctor. After he had left the office, Mr. Pierce called Mich in, and told him that the doctor had not seen any one." "I think there is but little probability that he will. I do not believe that man wanted to see him. I wish I could find out who it was ; it might be a clue to something which we do not at all understand now." "Well, ferret it out, Mich. I leave this entirely to yoi. The doctor does not suspect that you are working in the matter." "I do not wish he should. I am going to make a bold venture this evening. I am determined to see for myself if what Benson says of Randall is true. I am going to the saloon he frequents, and as Benson says he is there every night, I shall have a chance to see him." "Will not he suspect something from seeing you there?" "No, I will go with Benson, and if possible keep myself out of his sight." "Very well; but, Mich, don't let them get you to drink- ing." ! I hope vou do not fear that,' SET TING THE- TRAP. 421 "Not much. But do not stay very late, even for the sake of preventing Randall from getting a wife. It is din- ner time. Are you going home now?" "In a few moments. I was making out a paper which I will finish, as, it will be called for, -probably, before I get back." "Very well, said Mr. Pierce, as he left the office, for home. When Edward Randall left the warehouse, he went to a drinking saloon, and called for a glass of brandy, hoping to revive his spirits, which had been reduced to the lowest ebb by the events of the day. He then went home, and after dinner, having made a very careful toilet, he strolled out in a leisurely manner. He was in no haste, for his plans were scarcely matured in his own mind; but one thing he had decided upon, and that was that he would know-his fate that very night. His present situation would admit of no delay in the accomplishment of his purposes. Having thought over all, and decided upon the course to take, he then turned his steps toward Doctor Foster's. He found Anna looking for. him. After a few common- place remarks, the conversation lagged, and finally ceased entirely; both were silent, but Anna soon rallied, and said: "You seem low-spirited to-night." "I could not well be otherwise, when I remember how soon my destiny is to be decided." "What do you mean, Edward?" ^Jf page: 422-423[View Page 422-423] 422 OLD HAUN THE PAWNBROKER. - "I mean that I have come here this evening, to hear your final decision." "I am glad you have made up your mind to be reason- able, and not to teaze me any more." "I shall not certainly, after this evening, for you will either leave me nothing -more to desire, or crush hope entirely." "Now, Edward, do not, I beg of you, begin again to importune me to marry. It is really laughable to hear you talk of crushed hopes." "Is it? It is no trifling matter to me. Now, hear me patiently once more, Anna, for this is the last time I shall approach you upon the subject." "Well, say on. I will listen, if that will be any gratifi- cation to you; only let me say in advance, Edward, you waste words." "Anna, you must promise to become my wife within two months, otherwise I must resign you for ever ; I cannot live here in the same city with you, and be satisfied with the very small share of your society that I am now allowed. Do not interrupt me. You must listen to me, I will not be denied. There is no reason why you should. You have promised to become my wife. I claim the fulfillment of that promise now. If you will not, I leave you now, and for- ever. So choose. If you love me, fulfill your promise ; if not, say so, and I go." "You choose to threaten; I am not to be moved by threats, and if you are determined to go, pray don't let con- Nk E TT ETTIN -TH EE T AP'. 423 sideration for me detain you," said Anna, haughtily, rising and standing before Randall, as she looked calmly into his face. "Forgive me, Anina, forgive me," exclaimed Randall, abashed, as he started forward, and seized her hand. "I hardly know what I am saying. Am I forgiven?" "If you will not offend again," Anna answered, as she relrased her hand, and resumed her seat. "I must- know my destiny, to-night. Will you not relent- "Edward, why will you continue to teaze me, when you know it can avail you nothing. Have you any reasonsfor hastening our marriage, that I have not heard?" "I have got a long journey before me. I shall be obliged to absent myself for several months on business. I cannot delay it long. If you will consent, I will put it off as long as I can, but if -not, if you will not go with me, I will leave to-morrow. Now, Anna, give me ai proof of the love you profess." "I think I have given you proof enough, in promising to become your wife at some future day, and you ought to be satisfied with that." "I am not, and unless you go with me, I resign you for ever; for I will not run the risk of coming back to see -you the bride of another." - "What reason havelI given you for thinking of such a thing? You ought not even for a moment, to entertain such a thought. Why, how long will your business keep you away?" page: 424-425[View Page 424-425] 424 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "I do not know. It is a matter that I will not think of. Marry me, and I will return with you as soon as practicable; refuse to do so, and I will never return." "Edward, how unkind, how cruel in you to talk in this way. You do it on purpose to hurt my feelings." "Anna, believe me, I do not. But it must be as I say- there is no alternative." "No alternative I Indeed you are mistaken. Thete is no necessity--there can be none, and I will not yield to so foolish a whim." "It is not a whim. Anna, I say again, your decision to- night must be final," "It is nothing but jealousy then that induces you to make this request, or demand, rather, and I will not listen to it." "Anna Hervey, you must listen. You think I will come here again to-morrow evening, and the next, and continue to urge you ; but I tell you I shall not. If you refuse, you see me for the last time to-night. I am not jealous, neither is it a whim. It is a necessity. I cannot, and will not, wait two years, or one year. My wife you shall be, and now." "Edward, you forget yourself. Yon astonish me. I do not understand your conduct at all. You say you must go away on business, and if I will not go with you, that you will never come back. This is strange language. If you love me so much that you cannot endure to leave me even for a short time, how will you endure a lifetime without me?" SETTING- THE. TRAP. 425 "I shall never come where, I may see you. JI can better give you up entirely, than be tantalized in this way." -"Edward, I do not believe you. If you really love me, you will return, and wait patiently, too, until such timer as I can be married." "I cannot, neither will I. You do not understand me at all, if you think I will." , "I acknowledge, I do not/understand you; neither do you me, if you hope to move me by the arguments you have used. I have listened patiently to all you have said ; but: I tell you once more, that neither entreaties nor threats of desertion will make me change my mind. That you already know." "Repeat it, will you? let us clearly understand each other," said Randall, in a suppressed voice. "I do not wish to marry at present; that is sufficient fo' you to know." "You do not wish to. Will nothing I can say induce "e you to change your decision?" "No. I have; promised Doctor Foster I will not marry until I am twenty, and if you are not willing to wait, it probably will not grieve you much to resign me." "How much, or little, you will never know, if you force me to do so. You have no good reason for wishing to delay, and you would not willingly do so, if you cared any- thing at all for me." "Edward, -why will you talk so? Why will you be so unreasonable? I have a good reason. I would not ask page: 426-427[View Page 426-427] 426 OLD HAUNX THE PAWN])ROKER. you to wait if I did not know that I should be doing wrong to yield to your wishes. Why will you not believe me? Go and attend to the business that, calls you away, and hasten back; we may be together so much of the time. Why will you urge me?" "Anna, why will you refuse me. I cannot live away from you. Your only reason is that you are too young-that is a foolish one. Do not urge it again. You would never have thought of it, if the doctor had not suggested it. He is old and whimsical. If that is his only objection, he would readily forgive your opposition to his wishes. Say, is it not so? If he would consent, would you not go with me?" "He is right, I know he is. Do not urge me. Edward, do not." "I must, Anna; I cannot go without you. Say you will; Anna, if you love me, say you will." "Edward, I cannot/I cannot. Do not tempt me to do what I know I ougtnot." "Now or nevei Anna. Will you, can you give me up for ever?" said Edward, as he placed his arm about her waist, and drew her toward him. The poor girl was almost driven to desperation by his importunities. To collect her thoughts she had bent her head upon a table near, and heeded him not until he, thinking her won, drew her closer to him, and pressed his lips to her cheek, saying, in the most affectionate tone of voice, "Believe me, Anna, I love you passionately, deeply. Will you give up this love for a mere caprice?" 6 SET TIXG TRE TRAP. 427 "Edward, do not tempt me. You are not in earnest? You will not go away?" "Anna, I must, unless you will go with me; but you will. I cannot resign you. To sit here by your side and feel your warm breath upon my cheek, unfits me for life without you," said he, again kissing her cheek. "Edward, do not kiss me, do not caress me. Why will you tempt me,? I cannot yield. My word is given." "Go without his consent. What prevents you? Go with me to-night. -Anna, go to my father's, he will bind us to- gether for ever, and we need not be separated even for an hour." "Stop. Unloose my hand. Take away your arm." "No, I will not. I will not submit to. your prudery any longer. I cannot endure it. You are mine. My wife you shall be, and that soon," said he, kissing her passionately, again and again. - - "Edwardunloose me. You insult me by forcing upon me your unwelcome caresses.. I will not go with you." Starting from the sofa, with all the impetuosity of the' passion which now fully possessed him, he said, in a choking voice: "You will not?" "No I You are beside yourself. You insult me by sug- gesting, or wishing me to marry you in such a manner. If you respected me, you would not do it." "Insult you, do I? Very well, I will not do so again. I will go away, and you will never see me again," said he, striding towards the door. page: 428-429[View Page 428-429] 428 OLD HAUN, THE PA WNBROKER. "Very well. I can endure the separation, if you can," said Anna, haughtily. Edward hesitated one moment, then turned, and quickly left the room. Anna was astonished, when she discovered that he had really left the house. She could not believe him in earnest. She thought he would certainly return, and bid her good night. But he did not, and she went to bed with a heavy heart. His singular conduct surprised her. She could not believe that he would yield her up completely, because she would not consent to an early marriage. There seemed no possibility of his doing such a thing, and she concluded he had only threatened that, to make her yield to him, and because he was angry. She was sure he would make his appearance the next morning as usual. Cheered by this thought, she fell asleep. THE EXPOSA. 429 CHAPTER XXI. THE EXPOSE. "WELL, Mich, what success last night?" "I succeeded in discovering that Etandall is a dissolute young man of very bad habits." "You saw him, did you? What did you learn? Tell me all about it." "I went with Benson to the saloon he is in the habit of frequenting, and took a seat in an obscure- corner. I had to wait a long time before he came in, and then I quickly saw there was something unusual the matter. Although he had evidently been drinking before he came, still he went to the bar and took a stiff horn of brandy. He then joined a party in another part of the room, who were smoking and drinking, and was soon engaged in conversation with them. As I had never before seen him in such company, I could not judge Whether his manner and conversation were dif- ferent from what they ordinarily are, or not. But Benson said he-had never seen him drink so hard as he did last night. I think he may have had some trouble with-Anna., for in page: 430-431[View Page 430-431] 430 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. answer to a remark of one of hip companions, as to when they should have the pleasure of seeing him spliced, he uttered an oath and turned away. In my opinion, he was a good deal under the influence of liquor. It does not seem possible that any person can appear so different at different times. I hope Doctor roster will become acquainted with his real character. He cannot respect any woman, or he would not speak of the whole sex as he did last night. He seeks Anns. for the gratification of avarice and sensuality alone. He cannot feel one particle of genuine affection for her. It is not possible." "How is it, Mich, that she can have been so deceived in him?" "Really, sir, I am not surprised at all that she has been so. For if I had not seen him as I did last evening, I should not have believed that he could have become what he certainly is, a reckless libertine." "Di he speak of Anna?" "No, and Benson remarked, after we left,- that Randall did not once allude to his pretty sweetheart and her for- tune." "You then learned nothing particular about him. Noth. ing of his intentions f? "Why, Mr. Pirce, what more would you wish to have me learn? I am already convinced that he is a drunkard, gambler, and libertine. If that is not enough to prevent any woman from suitirg herself to him, I wonder what you would have 1" THE EXPOS . 431 "Why do you think he is a gambler and libertine?" "It is evident enough from his conversation and actions.' "Poor girl? How little she really knows of the man with whom she is to unite her destiny. But we must not allow it." "Allow it? Mr. Pierce, why dof't you send for the doctor and tell him, so that he may prevent it in time?" "Oh, there is no need of haste, Mich. I presume the doctor will be in to-day," P' For God's sake, don't wait. Unless he comes in to-day, I will go up and see him. No, that would not do either- but we must not delay." "Mich, do not be so impatient, What greater necessity of haste is there to-day than has been any of the, time i" I never knew before what- a rascal he was. I cannot rest until I know that the danger is past." "Mich, would you be willing, she should have him if he were a person of different character "I could know of her marriage with less pain, if Iknew he would make her happyI " - "Oh, then you do not care much about it, after all, I rather suspected, Mich, that you felt a little of the tender passion for her." : "t Oh, Mr. Pierce, this is no jesting matterwith: me. Do ' not speak of it. Care for her I My QdGi lO I dAi not. For years I have loved her.' I care nolt:', oows it-. A 'nd now to be conscious that she, -is to becdme the wife Of one so. wholly unworthy of her, almost maddens me. I iwoudI-; can give her up, to one who would lore, protect and cherish '*\ I i , . page: 432-433[View Page 432-433] 432 OLD HAIUN THE PAWNBROKER. her, as I would do. But it is no use. I do not expect she will ever know how much, and how long I have loved her, and I do not want she should, but I cannot see her sacri- ficed. No, I cannot. I will not," said Mich, starting from his seat, and pacing the floor in an agitated manner. "Forgive me, Mich, I did not intend to hurt your feel- ings. I thought it was as I said, that you did not care for her. But cheer up, she may be your own yet." "I do not even dream or hope for such a thing. I know that cannot be. All I ask now, is, that she does not marry one who will render her life miserable." "Well, Mich, go up and see the doctor, if you would like to. Tell him to come down here, and then I will advise him what to do. You may depend upon it, she will not hesitate to break her engagement with him as soon as she learns how unworthy he is of her love." "Remember, you must not let him know that you have got your information through me." "No, I will not." Mich left the office at once, and went directly to Doctor Foster's residence. He was shown into the parlor, .and as he stood waiting, Anna came hurriedly into the room. Seeing who was there, a shade of disap- pointment passed over her fair face, as she said: "You, Mich. I thought" and then hesitated, and- seemed embarrassed. "Good morning, Ann . Is the doctor home?" said ich, in as calm a voice as he could command-for he saw her evident disappointment, and it pained him much. THE EX POSE. 433 "I believe he is. I wfll go and see," said she, and turn- ed away. As Mich watched her retreating figure, a deep sigh escaped him. His first impulse was to call her back, and himself tell her all-but his second thought forbade that. No, he must let the information come from some one else. He could not bear to witness her suffering. He could not be associated always with so painful an era in her life as this must be. And with these thoughts he let her go. Soon the doctor entered, hastily, saying: "What is it, Mich. Any bad news?" "Mr. Pierce wishes to see you, sir,: upon some business. Will you go down now, sir?"- "Don't know but I will. Has he heard anything? I suppose you don't know what it is, though. I'll go, now, md I will tell you about it as-I go along. I presume it is something about Randall. Well, well, I wish it was off my nind." They started out. Mich did not answer the remarks of he doctor. He could not, his heart was full. To see knna, and have her turn away so indifferently from him, vas more galling -than anything that had occurred for -a ong time. He would have excused even that, if he could tave known how troubled and anxious she had been all the lorning. Having heard the outer door open, and some ne enter, she had supposed it to be Randall, -and instantly escended to the parlor, expecting to meet him, but what ras her disappointment to find that it was Mich. This, . ..... .. . .j page: 434-435[View Page 434-435] 434 OLD HAU N , THE PAWNBROKER. together with the embarrassment she felt at having betrayed her feelings, caused her to turns so quickly- away. Under no other circumstances would she so abruptly have left her old friend. As Mich departed, accompanied by the doctor, she won- dered what the urgent business could be, that had induced him to come at that time. Could it be anything connected with Randall. Would he leave her. Should she never see him again? In this manner she questioned herself, but con- cluded she was foolish to imagine he would, or even to think of his threats. And then she felt angry with him that he should use such language to her, and suchmeans to induce her to comply with his unreasonable wishes. And deter- mined, when he came in the evening, as she was sure he would, that she would show more spirit than she had done the evening before. She would give him to understand that she was not to be dictated to. Just as she had settled these weighty matters in her mind, to her own satisfaction, a servant entered the room, and handed her a note with the remark, "The man waits for an answer." Anna tore it open, and read- "Anna, once more I entreat you to revoke the decision made by you last night. AUl is in readiness for my departure. Shall I go? Comply with my request, and I remain. Refuse, if you are willing to resign me for ever. For, by so doing, you release yourself from all promises, and I leave you free, though, "I remain ever as how, your devoted lover, EDrWA= RANDALL." * THBE E tXPO 3 j;. - 435 Crimsoning with-indignation as she glanced over its con- tents, she said: "Tell the servant to wait. I will take the answer to him myself ;" and seating herself at her writing-desk, she wrote- M"]R. RANDALL:---I fully appreciate your kindness,in allowing me one more opportunity to assure you that I am'ndw less than ever inclined to yield to your demands. I gladly accept the release you tender, from 'all promise on my part, and asfreely exonerate you from your engagements. We are henceforthstrangers to eaCh other, "Yours, etc., "ANNA HERVEY." Sealing this, she, without one instant's thought, descended the stairs, and giving it to the servant in waiting, said: "Give that to Mr. Randall," and then she retraced her steps to her own room. Taking up the note she had received, she read it over and over again. For a short time anger had the supremacy in her mind. But as that subsided, there came the remembrance of the many pleasant hours they had passed together, which now- were for ever past And then she regretted the haste with which she had resigned him for ever. Now, when that thought was forced upon her mind, she gave vent to her feelings in afood of tears. They were separated- she wa s never to see him again; and the scalding tears continued to flow. Heeding nothing, she sat absorbed in her own sad thoughts, forgetful of every- 'thing else, until roused by the entrance of a servant, who said to her : page: 436-437[View Page 436-437] 436 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Miss Anna, Doctor Foster waits dinner for you." Anna started up, saying: "Dinner I Tell him not to wait. I do not wish any dinner. I do not feel very well." The servant went and delivered this message to the doctor, who exclaimed, as he started to go up to her room. "Sick I is she sick? Just as I expected." "I think she is not much sick, sir. Please, sir, I think you had better not go up now. I'm sure she's had some bad news, for there was a man brought a-'letter here, this morning, and she's been a-crying and taking on ever since." "Humph, that is it, eh? Well, well. You go up again and tell her I want to see her. If she is not able to come down, I will come up there." The servant did as directed, and Anna, upon hearing it, said, "I will come down. Go and tell him so. I will be down in a few moments;" and then she rose, and after bathing her face, and arranging her hair and dress, for she was yet in morning toilette, -she slowly descended to the dining-room. As she entered, the doctor approached, and said, in an unusually affectionate manner: "Are you sick, Anna!" and when he saw the quivering lip and tearstained cheek, he said, gently, as he seated her at table, "T1hee, there, child. Come, eat some dinner. You mustn't fast." Anna endeavored to do as bid. But she saw quickly that the doctor understood that it was no bodily ailment, TEE EXPOSJ:. 431 and his very kindness and gentleness made it the more dif- ficult for her to restrain her tears. After leaving the table, the doctor said, "Come in the library with me, Anna.," and'she mechanically followed him. Leading her to a seat, when they were once alone, and with- out fear of intrusion, he said: "My dear Anna, tell me what is the matter. I have a great deal that I want to talk with you about, but first let me know what it is that troubles you."' "There, read that; sit will tell you all," said Anna, put- ting Randall's note into, his hand. He read it through without comment, and than glancing at Annals sorrowful face, said--- "Did you answer it?" "Yes, sir. I was angry, and sent an answer that I now regret. But do you think he really will go?" "What was your answer?' "I broke the engagement, and accepted his released "Wells well, that is better than I had hoped., "Doctor, why do you say that y?" "Anna, you will not wonder at my saying it, when you hear what I have to tell you."' "What is it? Tell me, quick." "My dear girl, he is wholly unworthy of the affection you would bestow upon him." "I do not believe it. I cannot. He has acted ungener- ously by me in this instance, but I cannot believethat he is unworthy." page: 438-439[View Page 438-439] 438 OLD, HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. "Anna, listen to me patiently. I am glad you are released from your engagement, and that you have done it of your own free will." "Oh, I was angry, or I would not have done it." "Would you have married him, Anna?" "No, not now. I don't know why he is so unwilling to wait. But I know he would, if I had insisted." "I can tell you, Anna, and you must believe me now, for it is beyond denial. It may be humiliating to you, but it is nevertheless true. It is not yourself but your fortune that he wants, and he is not willing to wait. He is wild, extrava- gant, and licentious. Anna, hear me, do not turn away. I know what I say is true, and that it is unpleasant for you to be obliged to listen, and believe all this, of one you have known and respected as you have him. But it is true, and to prevent your ever renewing this engagement, as doubtless you will be importuned to do, you must fully understand his character." "Tell me first, where you get your information, and then I will decide whether I will hear what you have to say." "Anna, one of your best friends, at my suggestive entreaty, has followed Randall, and discovered what I would now tell you. It is Mr. Pierce. You certainly cannot doubt his truth and disinterestedness." "Mr. Pierce I Can it be that he would consent to act as a spy upon Edward's conduct? It is unkind of both you "Annf, understand me. We have neither of s acted "Anna, undersltand me. We have neither of u acted. THE EXPOSe. 439 the part of a spy. For your good, Anna, to secure your happiness, I requested Mr. Pierce to learn, something of. Randall's habits, for I have thought, ever since his return, that they were not such as they ought to be. He did so. We have not infringed upon his privacy, for there was no need of so doing. He is boldly and publicly a drunkard, gambler and libertine.,' "Dr. Foster, what do you mean? Do you intend to say that Mr. Pierce knows this from his own observation?" "He does-as I understood him. Now, Anna, do you regret that the engagement is broken?" "Not if this is true. But can it be?" 'Nightly he frequents improper places of resort, and spends his money in carousing and gambling. - This is why he is in such haste to marry-he wants your fortune to squander upon the gratification of his low desires. Do you not believe it, now?" "I suppose I must, but can it be true? Is it not possible you have been deceived? If this is so, do you believe that he would be entrusted with the business of such a firm as that in which he is employed?" "Anna, what reason have you for believing that he is so entrusted?" "He told me that it was on business for the house that he was going away, and important business too. Now, doctor, I do not believe they would entrust much to him, unless they were sure of his integrity. Oh, you musthave been deceived." page: 440-441[View Page 440-441] "O OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBRO1KER. "Anna, I doubt the truth of what you assert. Several circumstances have come to my knowledge of late, that agree to make me suspicious of him." "Doctor, I cannot endure this suspense.. I know he will come again. He certainly will not give me up in this un- reasonable manner. He will know I was angry when I wrote that note. I feel confident he will come again to- night, and I must be prepared to meet him, which I cannot be, if I remain in my present suspense. Go and see the firm of which he is a member.- Learn something yourself about him. If their account of him agrees with that of Mr. Pierce, I renounce him for ever. I should go contrary to every feeling of my better nature, even to think of him again. Go, now, and hasten back. I cannot rest until my suspicions are dispelled or confirmed." "I will go, Anna. My dear girl, do tot excite yourself. You will make yourself sick." "Do not mind me, doctor, go, now. Oh I can it-be that I have been deceived;" said Anna, as she leant her pale face upon her hands. The doctor immediately set out. Although he went as fast as possible, taking advantage of the stages down, still he was gone a long time, for he was obliged to go to the residence of one of the gentlemen, after having been to the warehouse. At length gaining admission to his presence, he introduced himself, and said-- "Have you a young man in your employ by the name of Ededl Randall A' THEE .EXPO-S t. 41 "I had, but he was dismissed yesterday." ' Dismissed, did I understand you, sir." "He was dismissed. Allow me to inquire, sir, whether you are particularly interested in him." "Well, sir, I am a plain spoken man, I came to you to learn something about him. Will you tell me*why he was dismirsed? It is necessary to the happiness of one very dear to me, that I should know all you may be able to tell me." "I know but little about him. My brother engaged him as a book-keeper upon the best of recommendations. He had been with us but a short time, but long enough for us to discover that he was not suited to our-business." "Was the cause of his dismissal only disqualification for the business?'" said the doctor. "I am not at liberty to give the reasons, for my brother promised he would not do so at present." "Is he not going away on business for you?" "Most certainly not." "Humph." "Has- he said that he was." "Yes, si - He has made a communication of this hind to one .in whom I am peculiarly interested." "I regret to -say, sir, there is no truthinS statement i-'- "I was afraid of it, but he has beet engsged to my wfard. He has used every possible inducements to urge'a s ey marriage, which I have opposed, beeatise-I hope d*?. : vince her of his unworthiness. NowI, ifyou cans tellme 19* // page: 442-443[View Page 442-443] "2 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. anything about him, that will assist me in this matter, you will do me a great favor. He assured her, yesterday, that he was going away on business for the firm,- and would be gone a long time, and endeavored to persuade her into an immediate marriage." "It is a mere fabrication of his own. And to convince you of the fact, I will take upon myself the responsibility of telling you why we dismissed him. He had drawn and used for his own purposes five thousand dollars more than his salary entitled him to." "Is that so? Is not that a criminal offence?" "Not in this instance, for he had our authority to draw moneys. I suppose your ward must be the young lady he referred to. He said he was to be married very soon, and that he then would repay us, if my brother would keep the matter secret." "The villain I Thank God I have discovered this before it is too late." "Then it is not true that he is to be married soon." "True I Do you suppose I would let her marry such a rascal?" "Well, really, I don't know. Young ladies are not always willing to resign a handsome lover, even if they know he is a little loose." "The young lady in question is not of that cast, allow me to inform you." 'Wenl, then, I suppose we shall lose our money, for that:ua his only resource.," fi- THE GxPosif. 443 "Wretched villain I Well t well I I must go back, Good evening, sir." : The doctor retraced his way home as fast as possible. He found Anna where he had left her. When he entered the library, she raised her head, and looked keenly into his face, saying, "Tell me all-quick." Briefly, plainly, the doctor related to Anna all that he had learned. As he progressed, he- saw the change his words wrought even in her looks. When he commenced, she was drooping, dejected, and sad; but every sign of grief and'despondency left'her, as he proceeded, and when he ceased speaking, she sat erect and, unmoved. Tearing into shreds the note she still held in her hand, she scattered the pieces upon the floor, as she rose and stood before the doctor, saying : "There, that is enough. I am satisfied. Never let me hear his name mentioned again. "That is right, Anna, forget him. Do -not let it trouble you for a moment." "Trouble me? No, indeed; you need not have any fears on that score. My love has turned into contempt for him who would deliberately impose upon a confiding, and credulous woman, and profess a love he never felt. But for -you I should have been sacrificed. How can I thank you 7 How repay you for all the misery you have saved, me I Oh, doctor, I -ill never doubt, your judgment again; never trust to myself orany one but you." l, ^. ' page: 444-445[View Page 444-445] "4 OLD HA U N, THE PAWNBROKER. "Anna, do not talk so-this is but a cloud. It will soon pass away, and you will be as happy as ever." "Yes, as happy, but not as trusting. This cannot make me unhappy, for I cannot even regret it is so. I can only feel glad that I have escaped-and despise, scorn, forget him for ever." "Well, well, do so. You cannot despise him more than he deserves." "To convince you that I will not even think of him, I will accept the invitation for this evening, which I had intended declining. I will go and dress. You will order the carriage?" "Certainly. I fancy she won't care much about it, after all. She only fancied she loved him," said the doctor, to himself, as she left the room. , Anna did go out, and was one of the gayest of the gay. More brilliant than she had ever been before. .She was bantered some by her intimate friends upon the absence of Randall--but that was soon checked by her dignified hauteur, when in answer she disclaimed all knowledge of an interest in his whereabouts." Anna did not affect all this gaiety, for she in reality did feel lighter hearted than she had since her engagement. She felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted from off her breast. She was free again, free from the unceasing, annoying importunity with which Randall had followed her, ever since she, in her foolish haste, had bound herself to THE I EXP oS . P:44 him. But with this feeling was mingled a distrust of the real sentiments of all who approached her. Flattery that evening was met with a kedn sarcasm that left its sting. She was astonished at the change in her feelings, and start- ed herself, when she recalled some of the bitter, scornful retorts she had made to the little, meaningless compliments that had been paid her. - ./ page: 446-447[View Page 446-447] "6 OLD HAvUN, THE PAWNBROKERB CHAPTER XXII. HEARTS UNITED. EDwAID RANDALL did not make his appearance at the house of Doctor Foster on the morning succeeding the events recorded in the last chapter. His employers looked for him in vain, to fulfill his promise to them. He did not come. The day passed, and then another, and then many days, but nothing could be learned of him, and gradually he was forgotten, except by his sorrowing parents and friends, or by those whose interest obliged them to remember him. Time rolled on. Mich continued his habit of calling occasionally, in a friendly way, upon Anna. But his visits were strictly visits of friendship, his manner was always guarded, and but for the intense gaze that she sometimes encountered, she could not have suspected that any feeling warmer than that of friendship had ever glowed in his breast. He had succeeded in the profession which he had chosen. His business prospered-the number of hits clients rapidly HEARTS UNITED. 447 augmented, and his rapidly developing talents gave -him high rank among his brethren at the bar. Nearly two years pass-ed away, after the abrupt depar- ture of Randall, without material change. Anna mingled somewhat with the gay world, but entire devotion to amuse- ment and pleasure was not by any means consonant with her feelings or principles. Admirers and suitors thronged around her, but they plead in vain. Her engagement with Randall was like a nightmare, which, when freed from, she could but remember with a shudder, and the majority of those who approached her seemed, to her distrustful heart, like him. This feeling grew, until after a time she began unconsciously to look forward with pleasure to the very unfrequent calls of Mich. She was herself ignorant of the existence of the feeling that had sprung up in her heart towards him. He had always been kind, although for a long time she had thought him less cordial in his manner towards her.- She often endea- vored to establish their friendship upon the footing of their earlier years, but in vain. Mich could not forget himself. He had firmly determined, at the time of her release from Randall, that she should never know his love for her, until, by his own exertions, he had made himself equal in wealth and social position. She little dreamed it was his own deep love for her, that induced him to meet her advances with coldness, and that he dared not trust himself, lest he should be betrayed. He was satisfied to know that she was free, and was willing to wait till fortune had unficitly favored page: 448-449[View Page 448-449] "8 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. him to enable him to make known his feelings, without the fear of having his motives misunderstood. The doctor looked quietly on. He was perfectly satisfied with the aspect of affairs as they were now, and did not desire to mar, by attempting to improve them. Mich was in the habit of coming to spend an evening, and of passing the time in the interchange of agreeable thoughts and intelligent conversation, occasionally inviting Anna to attend a lecture or concert with him. He was polite, attentive to her minutest wants, but still there was an evident restraint upon him which Anna did not under- stand, and, in her ignorance of his real feelings, she could not account for. She had always been in the habit of see- ing him so familiarly, that she never questioned her own heart, as to her real feelings towards him. She was con- scious of feeling increased enjoyment in his society, and spoke of him freely as her friend, and often regretted that he was not a little more cordial, never suspecting that, under that uniformly, calm, and almost indifferent manner, was concealed a devoted, disinterested, abiding love, such as woman rarely secures. The evening on which we again introduce them, was Ann's twentieth birth-day. She sat by the window, look- ing out upon the passers-by, when Mich entered the parlor. She was so deeply engaged -in thought, that she had not heard his entrance,' and turned quickly, and with glad surprise, at the sound of his voice, as he said : "Good evening, Anna, I have come to congratulate you upon another return of your birthday." HEARTS UNITED. 49 "Oh 1 thank you. But, Mich, hereafter you must forget how old I am. You know unmarried ladies are not expect- ed to grow old." "Is that so? Indeed I atm fearful I shall not be ble to comply." "Indeed, Mich, but you must. Just imagine yourself coming here, with, 'Allow me to congratulate you upon your fiftieth birth-day. Oh, you frighten me." "If I might be allowed to do so each year intervening between this time and your fiftieth, I should consider my- self a very fortunate man," said Mich, with more significance than Anna had ever remarked in him before. She was somewhat surprised, and did not answer him immediately, but when she did, her manner was changed entirely from the light trifling tone in-which she had before addressed him. Looking out of the window, she said, in a thoughtful manner: "I wonder where I shall be when that birth-day arrives, if I live to see it?" "I trust not far from me," said Mich, in a deep, earnest tone. Anna turned slowly, and looked- in his face. Their eves met. That one glance betrayed the secret he had-so long preserved. Anna's eyes drooped beneath his look, and she turned away to hide her conscious blush, while her heart throbbed wildly. That one look was the magic wand that had opened all the hidden treasures of her nature. Love, passionate love, bounded forth to meet his heart-offer- Itugs o page: 450-451[View Page 450-451] 450 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. They sat in silence-for words were useless, and each tried to keep back the emotions that came welling up. At length Mich said, in a voice trembling with agitation : "Anna, you know my secret. I can hide it no longer. Dare I hope that my love is returned? Could you be happy through life with me A7 "I could." "Anna, for this moment I have lived, struggled, toiled through the years that are past. To be near you has been all I have desired-to think of you my only joy. But to be assured, Anna, from your own lips, that you are willing to unite your fate with mine, has been beyond my wildest dreams. Do I understand you? Are you willing to become my wife?" "I am." "Anna, may I claim this hand as my own? Will you bind yourself irrevocably to me? May I, from this hour, think of you as mine-wholly mine?"- "Yes. If after you hear what I must tell, you still wish to do so." "Tell me nothing, Anna. We know each others' hearts as well as though every thought and feeling were laid open." "In justice to you, Mich, I must tell you, but first let me beg of you not to judge harshy of me." "Anna, do not fear me, but if it is unpleasant to you, do not tell me. I am willing to trust you implicitly." "Hear me, Mich. I have been engaged, and my engage- H EARTS-- UNITED. 451 ment is broken. Are you willing to take a hand that has been plighted to another?" "Yes, as the dearest prize-fortune could offer -me, if there is no regret mingled with the memory of the past." . "Regret I Oh, Mich, if you knew who -was the person, you would not think it possible for me to regret him." '"Anna, I do know. Say nothing more about it. I feel confidence, entire confidence, in you.. My affection you can- not doubt. Yours I wiil not, for I know you will be sincere with me, that you would -not give me your hand without-' feeling for me the love I so much desire.' - "No, I would not. But, Mich, how- came you to know of that affairT' "Mr. Pierce told me all about it at the time. Anna; did you love him?" I I thought I did. But I know now that it was a mere fancy. His captivating manners, and flattering tongue, enlisted my admiration, but my heart he never reached." "How have I reached it, Anna?" "By your apparent indifference and coldness." "I have never felt indifferent towards you, Anna, since the day I first saw you. You have been dearer to me than all the world beside. Do you believe thisT?" "I believe anything you say. You have never deceived me, Mich, and it is not possible for me to doubt you. But why have you kept this so long to yourself?" "You forget, Anna, that I began the world in humble circumstances. Thathefore I could seek your love, I must secure the wherewith to provide for you." page: 452-453[View Page 452-453] 452 OLD HA UX, THE PAWNBROKER. r "What necessity for that, Mich? Have not- I an abun- dance for us both?" "Anna, do you suppose I would touch one farthing of your fortune?" "Why not, pray?" "The fear that I might be suspected of wooing your for- tune instead of you, has kept me silent when every other restraint would have failed." "Mich, you wronged me by thinking so. Why should you not be willing to receive it with me?"You do not feel so now I hope." "There is not the same reason now, that there has been in times past. I have been fortunate. I can now offer you a home similar to your own, and surround you with the luxuries which have become necessary to you. All I ask of you is the love of your whole heart, and this hand. Your fortune you can dispose of as you like; with that I have nothing to do." "You are foolish, Mich. You must consent to receive it, if you take me." "It can be settled upon yourself, Anna. But I have a competence without it. That fortune has been the cause of a great deal of crime, contf/tion, and heart-burning, and rather than have it come between you and myself, as' a blight upon our peace and happiness, I would sooner, much sooner, see it given up entirely. I wish, for my own part, that you had nothing-that you depended upon me for every necessary, as well as comfort, of life. Then by my HEARTS UNSITED. 453 devotion I could prove to the world that my love has been disinterested." "I need no such proof, Mich, and would prefer that it should all be yours, for I know it must be a blessed feeling, to be cared for, and to depend solely upon the one we love." "Anna, when will you grant me this privilege of caring for you solely?" "Whenever you desire it." "Anna, 'I thank you for your readiness to comply with my wishes." "Why should I affect a reluctance I do not feel? There is no reason why we should delay, and I will not pretend to any. If the doctor has no objection, I have none. "Where is the doctor? I will have it settled now." "Ihear his step in the hall. , He is coming here. Yes, there he is," said Anna, as she rose from her seat. The doctor entered the parlor, but as it had become quite dark, he could not distinguish any one in the room, and was about to turn away, whei Mich said: "Good-evening, doctor." i/ "Mich, is it you? Anna, are you here in the dark, too?" ; "Yes-come in, doctor, and I -will ring for a light," said Anna, immediately doing so. "What are you sitting in the dark for? Rather suspi- cious." ' "Not at all so, doctor. Anna and I have been very much page: 454-455[View Page 454-455] 454 OLD HAU1Ij THE PAWNBROKER.& engaged in conversation, and -have not required any light stronger than twilight." "Twilight, I should call it dark. I like to see people's faces when I talk to them." "Well,'you have an opportunity now, as the light has come, and as I have a request to make, I hope you will look favorably upon me." "Well, what is it, Mich?" said the doctor, as he glanced, quickly from one to the other. But Anna sat attentively examining a book, and to all appearance, was not at all interested in the conversation between the gentlemen. "It is simply this. I want your consent to Anna's marriage with myself." "' Well, well, this is a surprise. Consent? God bless you both. I have been waiting as patiently as I could this long time for a chance to give my consent." "Then we have your approval of our immediate marriage, sir?" "Just as quick as you have a mind to. I am getting old, Mich, and shall be happier when I see her under your special care and protection, for it would trouble my last moments to leave her unprotected." "I trust, sir, you may live many years yet, to witness our happiness, and to aid us by your counsel." "Well, well, I can trust her to you. Anna, my dear child, is this as you wish it?" "It is, sir." "So you have promised to be Mich's wife. I knew it HEARTS- UNITED. 4- [55 would come to this, child. I knew you were destined for each other, and thank God it is so," said the doctor, as he laid his hand upon Anna's bowed head. No moment in Anna's past life had ever been so crowded with emotion as this.- Long years had passed since the, hand of that revered friend had thus rested upon her head, and that touch brought -back the memories -of the :past, which, mingling with the present joy, started the unbidden tear. For a moment all were 7silent, then the doctor said, in a -tender voice "Anna, child, when will you leave me?" "Leave you? Never. Mich has not asked me to leave yoUl." "Your marriage must necessarily separate us, Anna," said he, sadly. Mich approached them, saying, "Doctor, you have been to Anna a father, and to me a friend ; and do you suspect that either she or I would wish to be separated from you?" . -* . "I am getting old and infirm, Mich, and cannot be of service to either of you." "Oh, doctor, do not talk so, for unless you consent to. remain with me, as you have always done, I will not be married," said Anna, energetically. "Well, well, child. We will talk ofthis another"time. I will not be the cause of any delay. You must not. :No, indeed, it will be one of the happiest moments in my life, when I see you and:Mich married.- So arrange your plans, page: 456-457[View Page 456-457] 456 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROK'ER. and whatever they are, I shall think them good. Good- night. Good-night, Mich," said the doctor, as he turned and left the room. "Anna, there is nothing now wanting to secure our hap- piness but the blessing of the clergyman, andsthat I hope to hear pronounced very soon." "Do you think, Mich, that the doctor would refuse to live with us?" "No, I do not think it possible. Anna, will you appoint a time for our marriage I Any arrangements we have to make can be completed in a very short time. Name an early day, Anna;" "Well, I don't know-what -time will be best? Have you any choice? If you have, name it." "Will four weeks be long enough for you to make all desired preparations I I do not wish to hurry you, Anna. You know best how much time you will require, but I hope you will be ready as soon as that." "That would be considered by most ladies a very short time to prepare to be married, but as I do not wish to create a sensation, I presume it will be sufficient for me." "To consult my own taste and feelings, Anna, I would much prefer that we be married quietly, instead of creating a sensation, as you say." "I think we shall agree exactly about that, Mich. Let us be married in church, and then make a short tour." "That will be pleasant; but, Anna, I really must bid you good-night. How fast the hours glide by when I am near HEARTS UNITED. 457 you. I can scarcely believe that all I have heard to-night is reality. You, Anna, who I have loved so long, are soon to be my wife. You do love me. Is it so? Assure me." "It is true--but do not go. It cannot be late." "It is near midnight, Anna, I must. But I will see you early to-morrow. Good-night," said he, and turned and left the parlor. Anna followed him into the hall. Again he turned to say good-night, and press that soft hand that was placed so confidingly in his, when Anna whispered, "Come early to-morrow." For one instant he gazed into her face, then drawing her towards him, their lips met in one long kiss of love. Instantly releasing her from his embrace, he whispered again. "Good-night," and left the house. Anna was too happy readily to go to sleep. She recalled now many incidents which- contributed to convince her of Mich's affection, and wondered that she should have been so blind, as never to have remarked them before; and now she understood why his seeming indifference had so often wounded her feelings-because she loved him. How blank the world would be without him. How unsupportable life away from him. To be near him, was happiness; to hear his deep, earnest voice pronounce her name, was music in her ear. Oh, how long the hours would seem while-he was away. Thus she thought, till sleep came with its rosy dreams. With the next day commenced preparations for her mar- riage. Smoothly, and quietly all progressed, and by the time appointed all was in readiness. 20 page: 458-459[View Page 458-459] 458 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. Upon a bright and beautiful morning towards the last ot the month of May, they, with a select party of friends, repaired to Old Trinity Church and were married. The doctor gave away the beautiful bride. Happier hearts than those of Mich and his bride never beat in human breasts. Returning for a short time to her residence, they received the congratulations of their friends, and then set out upon an excursion, which kept them absent from the city for most of the season. In the heat of summer, they were joined at the White Mountains by a large party of their friends, among whom were the doctor, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, and Mrs. Lynch. There they remained for several weeks. Then returning to the city, they established themselves in the beautiful home which Mich had provided. The doctor and Mrs. Lynch soon became domesticated there, and there they remained. A large share of Anna's time was devoted to benevolent purposes. Many destitute emigrants' landing upon these shores, were provided with the comforts which they so much needed, out of the income of that fortune which had been coveted by so many, and many a darkened home was light- ened, and the clouds for ever dispelled, by her timely pre- sence and assistance. But there is truth in the words, that richer take to them. selves wings and flee away. A few years after the marriage of Anna, the bulk of her fortune was entirely lost by a des- tructive fire which occurred in New Orleans, the insur- ance, by the neglect of her agent, having been allowed to HEARTS UNITED. 459 expire. So that there remained to her but little of the large estate which she once possessed. This misfortune did not in the least affect her personal comfort, for Mich, by his talents,- energy, and strict attention to his professional duties, found fortune showering her golden favors upon him. There may be those still living, who will recognize under the disguise with which, in this history, we have clothed Mich Lynch, the character of one who, years since, main- tained a high reputation as an able advocate at the New York Bar. f . page: 460-461[View Page 460-461] "O OLD HAUN THE PAWNBROKER. CONCLUSION. A FEW years after the death of Haun, the old building that had been his shop was torn down for the purpose of perfecting some public improvements, and under the floor of the same was discovered a vault in which he had been in the habit of depositing his valuables. It communicated with his store by means of a trap-door. Reference has been made to it in the preceding pages. On examination, this was found to be nearly empty, with the exception of a package of old letters, which were enveloped in a newspaper, and carefully laid away. They were somewhat injured by age and dampness, but were still legible. From them it was learned that he was an Englishman by birth, but had left his native country when a young man-for the correspon- dence extended through many years. It was mostly from one person, some friend, or possibly a relative, who knew all the secrets of Haun's past life. That his name was assumed, was evident, from many things referred to in the letters. But what his real name was could not be discovered. From their contents it would seem that he had formerly CONCLUSION. ' 461 held some place under government, but having been detect- ed in the commission of a forgery, had been obliged to flee, in? order that he might escape conviction, upon the charge of having committed a capital offence. After-leaving England he had wandered over Europe for many years, and finally came to America, and settled in the city of New York. He had brought considerable money with him, with which he commenced the business of a pawnbroker-as his ostensible occupation, although his -knowledge of the criminality of any transaction, seldom interfered to prevent his turning an honest penny by engaging in it when oppor- tunity offered. What a contrast between the life of Haun and that of Dr. Foster, and, although, both had gone through the world alone, contrary to all the laws both of nature and revela- tion, still, look upon the labor of their lives. Haun's we have shown. Glimpses of the doctor's life we have seen in the foregoing history. But the world will never know his constant and unwearied attention to the wants of the desti- tute and suffering. He was not one of those who let his right hand know what his left hand doeth. And, although, he has been long since gathered to his Father's Mansions, yet, there are many still living, who were witnesses of his self-denying, and his self-sacrificing spirit while amongst us. He was affectionate in his nature, as his conduct to Anna has shown-; and he was well repaid, in her devotedness and gentleness, page: 462-463[View Page 462-463] "2 *'OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. when infirmity and age made him dependant, for social enjoyment, upon the kindness and attentions of others. Unlike Haun, whose grave is unmarked and his memory unhonored, a beautiful monument rears its tapering column to mark the spot where all that was mortal of the kind- hearted, generous old man was laid. And his memory is treasured, and his virtues told, even now, to the descendants of those who were the recipients of his love and care. May he rest in peace. Of Edward Randall, little was ever afterwards known. His father resigned his pastoral charge, and having secured a small parish in a remote country town, left the city, with his family, soon after the disgraceful conduct of his son came to his knowledge. Anna had no communication with them after that time. Consequently she never heard of Randall directly, although Mich was informed by a sailor, whom he several years afterwards accidentally met, that Randall was living in the Sandwich Islands, and engaged in some kind of traffic with the natives, but no more parti- cular information could be obtained in relation to him, and as he never made his appearance, the obligation which he had executed to his employers, remained uncancelled, and probably does to this day. Of other persons who may have casually appeared in the pages of this story, we have but little to record. Doctor Marsh, Mich's first employer, married a daughter of one of the merchant princes of New York, and thus secured to himself a fortune which enabled him to pass his days in OO N OL USIO N. 463 luxurious indolence. He gradually withdrew from profes- sional duties, and gave himself up to the pleasures of life.' The time has now arrived when we must drop the curtain upon the scenes of the long past, which we have intended faithfully to portray. Undoubtedly, by drawing more upon the imagination we might have added to the interest of the preceding pages. But instead of this we have preferred to tell a plain, unvarnished tale-a simple statement of facts occurring in every-day life-which we trust has not been entirely without interest to the rqeader. THE END, page: 464-465 (Advertisement) [View Page 464-465 (Advertisement) ] I- r * O 1 DOESTICKS' BOOKS. 12mo, Cloth, per Volume, $1 00. Among the numerous testimonials from the press in all sections if the country, we select the following, proving that the author's prod-so- tions will be sought for and read by thousands of admirers. NOTICES OF THE PRESS; "A humorist and a satirist of a very high order. His blows are aimed with severe accuracy against a vast number of the follies, frailties, and humbugs of the day."-Baltimore American, Md. "He shows up many of the modern popular humbugs in a very strong light, and handles them most unmercifully.".-Dayton (Ohio) Daily Em]ire. '"Doesticks is a wonder. The same happy spirit seems to Pervade the author and the artist--the illustrations of the latter are quite up to anything Cruikshank' ever achieved in the same line. If anybody can look at these spiritings of the pencil without a loud laugh, he is certainly out of our list of even grand fellows-. but to enter fully into the pleasing features of the work-to laugh over'the jokes, to enjoy the. home-thrusts of wit and satire, our friends must buy the book itself." -Sundagyiercury, 1. Y. , t"Doesticks is one of the few immortal names that were not born'to die. Doe. sticks will always be with us. We have only to step into our library, and behold there is the ubiquitous Doesticks! We take him by the hand-we listen to the thoughts that breathe-the quaint philosophy-the piquant illustration I Doesticks all over-Doesticks in every page-in -very line I Do you wish to make the ac. quaintance of Doesticks? Every body does."-New York Railway Journal. :' The illustrations are in admirable keeping with the general tone of these ' un. precedented extravagances,' and will help to introduce Doesticks and his com- wanions to a large circle of acquaintances.'-McMakin's Philadelphia Saturd Cowrier. , , "'Doesticks' is irresistibly funny."-P. T. Barnum's Letter to the N. l tribune. 1 t"Renown has made the euphonious name of ' Doesticks' familiar to the ear of U the reading public throughout the length and breadth of the land. -Those who ould eschew the blues, and drive dull care away, should read Doesticks-what says." Lan$inghurg Gazette, N. Y. "The ' Doesticks' book is before us. Its inimitable fun sticks to us long after a 5 have shut the book-its rollicking humor comes back to us in gusts."-noston Cr onicle. "Doesticks is an original genius. His book is just the thing to pick up at odd mo naants, when time hangs heavy, and the mind seeks to be amused."-- azette nd Democrat, leading, Pa. "The essays of the rich, racy, humorous, and original Doesticks will be read by thousandsa"-& ew Orleans Bee. "Doesticks' fun is not of the artificial, spasmodic order, it arises from a keen perception of the humorous side of things."-New York Tribune. "His blows at humbug are trenchant, and his sympathies are ever with hu- manity."- Boston Evening Gazette. !"Doesticks comes to us like a full and- sparkling goblet, overflowing with the rich and brilliant sayings of an original mind. If you would drive away the * Blue Devils,' purchase Doesticks, and every sketch you read will be better than any pill for the indigestion."-The Uncle Samuel, Boston, "What Cruikshanks, Leech, or Gavarnt does with the pencil, he accomplishe with Hie pen." -T/h N. Y. Dutchman. "The anchor is a humorist and a satirist of a very high order. His blows are dmed with severe. accuracy against a vast number ot the follies, frailties, and kumbugs of he day,"--Amertoan and Commerciat Advertiser, Baltimore, Md. IVERiMORE & RUDD, Publishers, 310 BOoADwAY, NEW YOl, page: 466 (Advertisement) -467 (Advertisement) [View Page 466 (Advertisement) -467 (Advertisement) ] Just Piublished. A NEW AND IMPROVED EDITION OF THE CHEAPZST AND BEST WORN ON ARCHTECTURE. THE CARPENTER'S ASSISTANT AND RURAL ARCHTECT. Illustrated with upwards of Two Hundred Copper and Electrotype Plates ; Embracing the orders of Architecture, Modern and Practical Stair Building, Plans, Elevations, Grounds. etc., etc., of Cottages, Villas, and Farm Buildings, in Gludtng Church Edifices. BY WILLIAM BROWN AND LEWIS E. JOY, ARCHTECTS. Twenty-first Thousand-Large Quarto, bound in Leather, $3 50 Do. Do. Bound in Morocco, marble edges, 5 00 OPINIONS OF THE WORK: [From tae Telegraph.] This is a book which every carpenter and house builder should own. Mr. LrmMo: Daa 8Lm,-I have deemed the "Carpenters Assistant and Rural Architect," by Messrs Brown and Joy, published by you, as one of the most valuable guides and ooodcs of reference in my library, and take an early opportunity to congratu- late you on the appearance of a noew and improved edition of the work, which I have Just purchased. The Lithographic Plates, comprising designs for church edifices, adds In my opi- nion a striking feature to the book, and I have no hesitation in averring that it will be sought for by every Architect, Builder, and Carpenter in our country, who wishes to pousss the most concise and practical treatise published. Respectfully yours, SAMUEL PHLLIPS, Architect and Builder, Boston. From Practical Carpentere and Architect. We, the undersigned citizens of Worcester, Mass., practical carpenters, are per. sonally acquainted with William Brown, Esq., Architect, and author of a work, entitled the "Carpentes Asistant and Bural Architect." We have examined that work with attention, and commend it to all who are interested in the study or practice of the art, as a valuable treatise on architecture, and it is eminently prae. tical in its character. We cheerfully recommend it to the patronage of carpenters and the public. EDWARD LAMB, J. 8. WOODWORTH, W. R. BIGELOW, FREEMAN UPHAM, M H. MORUSE, HORATIO N. TOWER. P. W. TAFT, S. D. HARDING, I have carefully examined the "Carpenter's Assistant and Rural Architect," and believe it to be a work well adapted to meet the wants of the practical workman, being practical in Its character, and valuable for the perspictuity of its arrangement, clearness of its designs, and brevity of its explanations. I would most cheerfully recommend it to the patronage of carpenters and stu. dents. ELBRIDGE BOYDEN, Architect. Mr. BBowN: Sat,-- have examined your work on architecture, and feeling confident of its utility, from its extreme simplicity and singular adaptedness to meet the wants of the carpenters, I do cheerfully recommend it to the condition of every carpenter especially the apprentice, who will find all the rudiments of architecture necessary as well as designs for practice. A. L. BROOKS. "VERRMORE & RUDD, PubwishM '310 Btoadway, New York DESIRABLE ILLUSTRATED tlOOK, I 03i H:nDB REN BOUND IN BOARDS, RED CLOTH BACKS, FOR GOOD CHLDREN. Square 16mo, 72 Pages each, put up in Packages of 12, $1 60. CHARLES'S JOURNEY TO FRANCE, . . BYMRS. BABBAum STORIES ABOUT ANIMALS, . . . . By UNCLE THOA POETICAL TALES, ... ...... By MARY HOWITT. STORIES OF THE MONTHS, ..... By MRs. BArlurro PHEBE, THE BLACKBERRY GIRL, . . By UNCLE TuOm a GRIMALKIN AND LITTLE FIDO, . . . By UxCLe THOs BY MRS. COLEMAN. fqraro 16mo, 64 Pages each, put up in Packages of 12, $1 50. CHARLES AND EMLY. FAITHFUL WALTER. ORPHAN BOY'S TRIALS. "TTLE DOG TRUSTY, &a., &. TRUE BENEVOLENCE. THE CARRIER PIGEON. ANNA'S TRIALS. JOHN'S ADVENTURES. WENDELINE AND HER LADY-BUG. "VERMORE & RUDD, Publishers, fl r1 R.. ^ r^, A ^ WT, V'^ page: 468 (Advertisement) -469 (Advertisement) [View Page 468 (Advertisement) -469 (Advertisement) ] A BOOK THAT WILL MAKE ITS MARK! The undersigned have the satisfaction of announcing to the Public and the Trade that they have just published an original work of fiction of unusual interest and merit, by an American autho-, entitled, ASPENWOLD. The claima of tlis work to a high place in the front rank of our na tional literature will be admitted by every reader whose critical abilitiea enable him to appreciate authorial excellence. It is written in the form of an autobiography. like the works of MA B- IYATr, and will favorably compare with the best of that popular writer's productions It is free from the hackneyed incidents which comprse the principal xtock in trade of most of our modern novelists, and a emphatically A }E^E:E3iMS BO0EL in the ripest sense of that much-abused term. For its strength and naturalness of description, the reader will be reminded of COOPER; in the flowing style of its narrative, of MARRYAT; in the earnestness of its thought and diction, of CmRRER BELL; and in the completeness of its characters, of CHARLFs DICKEaS. The power and originality of the work will emrsure it a wide sale, and wecre a popularity for its author enjoyed by few Embellished with a beautifc Froutitpiecx 408 Pages, 12mo, Cloth. Price $1 25. LIVERMORE & RUDDI), Pblis]wers, A lp B aoP w , Nw YomK JUST PUBLISHED, P L U-R HB U S-T A H: A SONG THAT'S BY NO -AUTHOR. BY Q. 4. bilsdet ioetsich, .1. This Book contains an unlimited quantity of hits at every body, of which every one must good-naturedly take his share, to pay for the privilege of laughing at his neighbors. FrB'T jIZE D WITH ONE HtNDULD AND FIFTY-FOTUa ILLUBTBATIONB, ' By JOHN MCLENAN. As a History of the Country, this book is invaluable, inasmuch as it notices a great many events not mentioned by Bancroft, Hildreth, or Prescott. As a Novel, it is unapproachable, for it contains several characters unknown to Cooper, Dickens, Marryatt, or Btfwer. As a Mythological Work, it should be immediatelysecured, as it makes mention of a number of gods and deified worthies hitherto unknown to old Jupiter himself. As a Poem, its claims to consideration' can not be denied, as it comprises a great many beauties not discoverable in "The Song of Hiawatha," besides several Indian names which were therein omitted. 12mo, Maslin, Extra Gilt, price $1 00. LIVERMORE & RUDD, Publishers, 310 BROADwaY, NEW YORK. page: 470 (Advertisement) -471 (Advertisement) [View Page 470 (Advertisement) -471 (Advertisement) ] Just Publishd. DOESTICKS' NEW BOOK PL U-R I -3-B US -T A H. A SONG THAT'S BY NO AUTHOR. BY Q. K. P-HLANDER bOESTICKS, P B. -In clegant 12mo. Price $1. This volume is enjoying a greater popularity than the Author's first book "DoBsTIOsU W ?UT HZ SAa,n which sold the first fire day of publication, 1Q,778 CO- PIXS3. It contains an umnllted quantity of hits at every body, of which every one must good- aataredly take his share, to pay for the privilege of laughing at his neighbors, and kxU#uhd?wU oe aundred and Jfity-fbur Humoroue llustrationf, designed by John McLenan, whose reputation as an Artist is world-wide. CONTENTS. !xplanation-Toe Author's Apology-Introdction-The Pipe, and Who Smoked it- Who Came and Where He Came From-Fight Number One-Who Whipped, Who Died, a How' Many Run Away-light Number Two-How Many Rounds, and Who Couldn't Come to Time--A Free-Love Marriage-The Gathering of the Clans-What They Went to Work at, and How Much They Got a AMonth-How the Hero Did a Great ManyThinga, and Who Helped Him-A Single-Handed Game of Brag-What a Woman Did-What the Bero Wonhipped-Fight Number Three, with Variations -Matrimonial Endearmenthl-ight Number Four-A Compromise, and What Came of it-How a Woman got her Spunk Up, and Left the Country-The Consequences-Mother and Child both Doing Well-He Continues His Studies--His Progress-He still Continues His Studies--Ia Further Progress-Who Died, and What They did with Him-Funereal and Bolem--A Marriage, and What Came of itr-Family Jars, and a Departure--Spirit Rappingl and Spirit Drinking Mixed-What He Didn't-What His Mother Did, and Where 8he Went to--Cuffee Triumphant-An Unexpected Smash-Demolition of The Hero. NOTICES OF THE PRESS, "We said of Doesticks' first work that it was a quaint teacher of morality and a pro. moter of good works, we are ready to reiterate in respect to this volume. There is not a vulgarity nor an indecency In its pages, but clothed in unusual garb, the burden of its song is morality, virtue, temperance, economy, patriotism. It rebukes pretension, it scathes deception, it withers arrogance, it exposes emptiness. Chapter IX.-What a Woman Did-is one of the best arguments for national union to be found."'-Newark Daiy Adsvrtier. "I Plu-ri-bus-tah' is a burlesque-broad almost beyond the scope of the imagination." --CAarlsc n, & 0. Standard. "Doesticks loves to indulge in a merry laugh at the expense of his neighbors, as a good Christian is bound to do."--'New York Tribune. 1"This is far the cleverest thing that Doesticks has done."--.r. . ZVentn Post. 4' It overfows with fun, and doctors should recommend it to all their patients who may bn troubled with the spleen. Every leaf contains a sketch worthy of Punch."*--Bost "It Is full of wit, sarcasm and fun. It is longer than Hiawatha, broader than Hudl brau, and deeper than Punch. --PhadEtphia un. LIVERMORE & RUDD, PUBLISHERS, RI RnnBAwAVt N Y THE MEMOIRS OF REV. SPENCER H. CONE, D D. PREPARED BY HS FAM-LY 484 pp. 12mo. Bound in JMuslin, Printed on fine white paper, Price $1 25 mbitIfis bth Woitt a Sttl port ati t. Dr. Cone, late pastor of the First Baptist Church, city of New York, was one of the most remarkable men of the present age, his life was full of romance and incident, as as well as a bright example of Christian virtues; the volume should find a welcome at every fireside, and a place in every family library. Among the numerous testimonials from all sections of the country, we take pleasure in quoting the following: NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 1"A Biography of a famous preacher and man, written with power and eloquence."- PhAildelphia ening Post. ,- ss Itseful to every person who admires active piety and can appre- elate Christian virtues.."-Famnt y Jo/umra/, Albcany. "Spencer Houghthn Cone. one of those 'good and faithful servants whose career exemplifies the surpassing beauty of a genuine rellglots life. The work is produced in elegant form, with a superb engraving of Dr. Cone It deserves a place as a standard of good works and deeds in all families."'-^. . Daily yews . - "Its subject, one of the first men, and leading minds, for years, In our denomination, will ensure it a wide circulation."'-Riohmond, Va. :erad.-a ," Mr. Cone's reputation as an eloquent and fervent minister of the Gospel, as a strong, clear, earnest thinker, was acknowledged throughout heVUnion."-Boston Gastt "The book is full of interes4 and we are confident will disappoint none who undertake Its perusal." --Salem azettd .. "America has produced but few /so popular preachers, his personal influence was unbounded, he was indeed a-man of talent, of large at-.alnmentJn the school of Christ, a brilliant preacher, and. a noble-hearted, zealous Ohristian philanthropist."- Christian Chronicte, PhlwadpMa. , "The volume is a profoundly interesting life-memorial of one of the most active, earnest, eloquent' and sincer y, religious spirits of his age and generation. Spencer H. Cone was a very-remarkable man, and from a perusal of his life, we are convinced that selfishness and narrow-mind&edness had no place in his nature. He appears to us to have been a model of earnestness, sincerity, activity, and intelligence."--N-W York Evening Mirror. The volume is a straightforward simple narrative of the public and private life of Dr. Cone, from his youth up to the period of his death. It will be read with interest by. thousands out of the denomination to which Dr. Conge belonged, as well as by thousands of his own denominational friends and admirers."'-Cahrt &an 'cretary, Hartford. "VERMORE & RUDD, PUBLISHERS, 310 BROADWAY, N. Y. Agents wanted to Canvass every County in the United States, wkt can make from $6 to 810 a day in selling the above popular work. page: 472 (Advertisement) -473 (Advertisement) [View Page 472 (Advertisement) -473 (Advertisement) ] DIOESSTi'ICS. Pr. Do ,/' Fully Illustratetl Witl, i the til EIngravings, byt the most eminent artid An elegalnt 12mio. vol. boulld ill Muslin, gilt extra. V1. "VE IORE & RUDD, Publishers, 310 Broadway, N. Y A New Book by the Author of "Our World!" A WORK OF GREAT POWER AND INTEREST. JUSTICE IN THE BY-WAYS. BY F. C- ADAMS. 12mo.. Cloth, $1 25. THE Evening Post of June 23d says: i "Shortly will be published a new work, entitled 'JUSTICiE IN THE BY- WAYS,' from the pen of F. 0. ADAMS, author of the popular anti-slavery novel' OUR WORLD.' * * * I "It presents a life-like picture of that peculiar civilization which of late has so signally blossomed in the ruffianly achievement of Brooks. "Mr. ADAMS. the author, formerly editor of the Savannah Georgian, is qualified, by a residence of five years among the nullifiers of the Palmetto State to exhibit a correct and graphic likeness of their society and manners." This is emphatically a work of our age. Its life is its TRUTH. Its breath its TACT. It is history in the guise of fiction, history whose accu- racy is attested by public. records and State documents. Each character is a living reality. It -is a book eminently suggestive of much needed moral reforms. It is not sectional. It hits North and South. It shows the social evils generated by. Slavery in the one, and by neglected poverty in the other. It pictures the follies and vices' of worn-out Southern chi- valry; the crimes of the forsaken wretches in the Five Points; and the sordid sin which luxuriates in our Fifth Avenue palaces. It portrays how i those who thJ world regard as beacons illuminating the paths of virtue, grovel ip -jensuality--sought and loved for its own sake; whilst the ne- glected of the world, in their depths of degradation, yet emit some rays- feeble though they be-of a soul within. In fine, it teaches the practical lesson that it would become the great to learn how a true use of their wealth and influence may benefit poor fallen humanity, "VERMORE & RUDD, PUBLISHERS, 310 BROADWAY, N. Y. v. nuoom, Stereotyper, 24 Beerman street. page: 474 (Advertisement) -475 (Advertisement) [View Page 474 (Advertisement) -475 (Advertisement) ] A BOOK F RO "DO E Si' I K S." TH GREAT AM ERII'AN NVI" AND HUMORIST! BY Q. K. HLANI)ER DOESTICKS, P B. Fully Illustrated by tIe most eminent Artists, 12mo., bound in mnuslin. gilt extra, $1. 12,773 copies of this remarkable book, were sold in five days following the day of publication; and from every part of the country the demand still continues. DO/EIBSrIOK S : This volume, abounding in mlirth-provoking sketches of persona and places, filled wits humor, wit, and satire, convulses the reader with laughter from the title-page to the clire In the larnguage of an eminent jounialist, who speaks of the book: u From the first word in the introduction to the last of the narrative, Doesticks' b*ok is a running fire of comicality. In taking up the book, the reader finds himself precisely in the name condition as the man who, after getting into a boat, is berne down a pleasauIt stream independent of his own volition. He must go ou, and he is glad to go on. too." x tnnttnB. Ilow Doesticks came to think of it; Doesticks satisfies Philander ;, Doesticks visit Niagara; Doesticks on a Bender; Seeking a Fortune ; Railroad Felicities ; Sees the Lions; Barnum's Museum; Model Boarding Houses; Potency of Croton Water-or an Aqleous quality hitherto unknown; Modern Vitchcraft; City Target Excursion; A New Patent Medicine Operation; Doesticks Running with the L"Masheeu ;"Street Preaching ; A Zea lous Trio; Disappointed Love ; Modern Patent Piety; Church Going in the City; Benevo- lence run mad; Charitable Cheating; Millerite Jubilee-Hlow they did ut go up; i'le Great "4 American Tragedian;" "Side Shows" of the City'; New Year's Day in New York Amusement for the Aillion; A 2;40 Sleigh Ride; Cupid in Cold Weather; Valentine's 'hay; The Kentucky Tavern; The River Darkies; The Thespian Wigwam; Theatricals agrn ; A Night at the Bowery; Mysterious Secrets of the K.-.', ; A Midnight Initiation . Philander Fooled; A Diabolical Conspiracy; A Shanghae Infernal Machine; An Evening with the Spiritualists; Rampant Ghostology; Special Express from Dog Paradise; A Canine Ghost; 'Iection Day; "Paddy"Wersw "Sam;"Police Adrentures; Mayor Wool Around; Damphool Defunct; Place of his Exile; Description Thereol-and Exit; Keeping the Maine Lawr Theatricals once more; Shakespeare Darkeyized; Macheth in High Colors: Young America in Long Vresses ;-Great Excitement iu Babydom. Notitts of Olt Prtss. The Home Journal (N. P. WiUis, Esq., Editor) says : "Things so copied, so talked of, so pulled out of every pocket to be lent to you, so quoted rad Ps relished and laughed over, u Doesticks' writings never were launched into pnnt." "This book will I take,' and is bound to sell."-Boston Post. "' One can read the book aguin and again, and not tire."-Detroit Daily Advertiser. "Any mirth-inclined reader will get the book's worth of fun out of four chapters in tl a work It is beautifully illustrated."-N. Y. U. S. Journal "We can promise our readers a hearty laugh over this book."--New Bedford Mercury. a The reader is advised to see to his buttons before procring the volume."-Saler, ReUister. "No ori/g/a comic writer has appeared in this country before Mr. Tl ompson, alias Doe- sticks; he will, we think, achieve a position as a literary humorist, of which he and his country will have occasion to be proud."---. Y. Critic. "We cordially recommend this volume, not only as a successful debut in a new field of ^nrature, but as a quaint teacher of morality, a promotor of good works, and an improve$ i th tauK.--',Nerwk (NV. J.) Advertiser. L JZB[B 0] BRUDD, Publihers, 810 8roadway, NawYotrL WILL BE PUBLISHED IN JtE, - Q. K. Philander Doesticks, P.'B., ANID Knight Russ Ockside, M D., 1' I ; xLIEajiiwo^ I We A, -- -- . * U sr A 'F page: 476 (Advertisement) -477 (Advertisement) [View Page 476 (Advertisement) -477 (Advertisement) ] J ano ner ook by Doestieks. IN PRESS, HSTORY AND RECORDS Or THE ELEPHANT CLUB, 12mo., Cloth. Price $1 00. No writer who has appeared before the American public has met, in so short a period, with such success as he, who within less than two years unpremeditatedly laid the foundation of his fame as the GREAT AEICAN WIT AND HUMORIST, by a series of letters written over the imposing signature of Q. K. PHTT ANDER DOESTICK'S, P B., Their appearance marks the birth of a new school of humor, and the unprecedented sale of his first volume, "Doesticks, What He Says," as also the popularity of his poem, "Plu-ri-bus tah," is sufficient evidence of their originality and literary excellence. 8E SECO/D PROOSE WORK Br DOESTICKS is now in press and will be issued in September. In the perpetratior of which, he has been aided and abetted by N3?ITXG:T RTXS OKB SSOE, 3V;.I. a humorist of celebrity. The work has been illustrated from original designs by the best Artists, and the Publishers believe it will enjoy a greater popularity than either ) of the Author's preceding works ', as, Copies sent by mail to any address, on receipt of $1 00. "VERMORE & RUDD, PUBLISHERS, 310 BROADWAY, N. Y. W. . Tilnon, Sterotyper, 24 Bemu street. A or oi Unusuai neterestt aa Mertt TO BE PURBTtlSHKI EARLY IN I SNlrMBnR, THE PAWNBROKER. OR, THE WAGES OF AVARICE:. 12mo., Cloth. Price $1 25. The Pubishers believe that "'be Pawnbroker" is not inferior, either in power or interest, to any other work of Fiction that has been yet issued from the American Press; while the local interest it possesses, in consequence of its truthful delineation of New York life, forms one o f its many attractive features. It is theproduction of an American lady, who is endowed with a fine culture, a refined and polished idea of the requirements of Virtue and Civilized Life; together with a clear insight of the h, tnmn heart, whether bowed down by its own dark depravity, or consoled and elevated by the noble instincts of honor and truthfulness. But this is not all; our authoress is an Artist, and her book will do credit to Modern American Literature. Her Hero and Heroine are taken from the humblest walks of life; but our interest becomes almost at once, unconsciously enlisted in their welfare, and with intense excite- ment, pain, and hope, the thread of the narrative which depicts their chequered, trying and varied career, is perused. This effect is produced, without bombast or enervating sentimenteiity; simply because a story founded upon fact is narrated with becoming dignity, modesty and consummate Literary Art. The characters introduced throughout the work are numerous; but each possesses a peculiar, marked, and distinct individuality. A writer in the Boston Lterary Bauletin says of it: "I have read the MS. of "The Pawnbroker.'1 Its principal scenes are laid in New York, shifting occasionally to New Orleans. It is written with great force, pathos, and ingenuity; and I have no hesitation in prophesying that it will be ranked with "The Lamplighter " and "The Wide, Wide World." Throughout the work a moral lesson is pointed; and although prolific in pictures of the most exciting nature, probability is never outraged by the introduction of mysterious impossibilities. It cannot fail of meeting with a large sale, and enviable popularity." "VFERMORE & RUDD, PUBLISHERS, 310 BROADWAY, N. Y. W. H. TinEn, Streotyper, 24 Boeoana Street. A / page: 478 (Advertisement) -479[View Page 478 (Advertisement) -479] "YEOR1E A BUBD, PUBLISHERS AND BOOKSELLERS, NEW YORK, HArINo removed to their Large and Commodious Store, 810 3B OA. D 7W9Y, Would announce to the Trade and Public, that they are prepared to supply at Publishers' Lowest Rates, all the Issues of the day, including SrTADARD, MEDICAL, AND THEOLOGICAL WORS; and having special arrangements with the following Houses:- PHLLIPS, SAMPSON A CO, Bost0, TICKNOR & IELDS, "TTLE BROWN A CO., " C0OSBY, NICHOLS A CO., 0 BLANCHARD & LEA, Pliladelpha PABBY A McMTTlAN, N "RDSAY A BLAKISTONFB a T. B. PETERSON, 4 J. B. LIPPINCOTT * 00., H. 0. BAIRD, a Keep constantly on hand all their Publications, and supply in quantitiem at their Rates. BOOK AGENTS WANTED. 600 FOR EACH STATE IN THE UNION. ErnFCITr AGENTS CAN MAKE FROM $4 TO $10 PER DAY. Copies of any Pblicati;on sent by Mail to any part of the Union (post- paid) on receipt of the price. "VERMORE & RUDD, PUBLISHktES, 810 BaoaDWAY, N. Y. W. EL TbKc, StTreotAper, 94 Bkmn StrAtL 3
