History of Timothy Tugg Mutton
page: (TitlePage) [View Page (TitlePage) ]74v2:AL i i .a- - r 7 4 t I HISTORY OF Imot btj uAgg 4RtIRII BY TIHO'S. B. LOGAN, Author of "Adventures of Boggars", "Yankee Ins.tn~iation", j Al that's in Danger is not Lost", "Crimes of a Great City", 4 Tan, the PoT, -That Duteh Dunderhead", # &e. &c. &C: STEREOTYPE BDITIO Cit by . IOT , uid[, Chnu Printed- by X. Niedner, Weld Building, Chesnut Street. 4852. I /' ( ,, , ,.- r.:°"_ page: [View Page ] ir r' AM/ 1I 41 Tntered aclordiug to Act of Congress in the year 1852, e By TOS. B. LOGAN, in theO ice of the Clerk of the District Court of the United States, in and for the District of Missouri. Stereotyped by ri. . XOGN1DGE, St. Louis, Me. I; FE. THE following story was originally written for the "St. Louis Evening Dispatch," and was first published, by chapters, in the columns of that Journal. The suc- cess it met with induced the author to act upon the suggestions of his friends who advised its republication in book form. After a careful revision and emendation, therefore, TiMoTHY Tua {MUTTON, With improved features and a new dress, is again placed upon the macadamized highway of literature,. and to popular indulgence and support ,is entrusted his fame and fortune as well as those of THE AUTHOR. St. Louis, Nov. 1st, 1852. I a 1 t t_. page: Table of Contents[View Page Table of Contents] -I dry 5 : ' . i _ 1 t 4, WIO TIMOTHY.WAS ........... ............... .*.. .Chapter 1stL-Page 5. A.Q.ARREL . .......... .... ......................2d "c 7. THE TEMPTATION ............................................ 4th " 14. T'E WAP R a 6th " 17 THE PLOT RO G1 ESSING ......................8......... ..8.cc '6th 2. UNEXPECTED OCCURRENCES................................. " 7th " 29. CAROIfINE ... .........:...:....."..................... 4" 8th 2- 2 PUNISHMENT......... ...... ............---- 9th cc 36 T OSMRPHAN .. .6.3..................'.." - 10th 'a 42 THE CAPTIVES........................................ 11th " 46. NEW AND OLD ACQUAINTANCES ............................... 12th " 63. THE ROBBERY.................................................. ' 13th " 60. THE CRIB3O CROSS STREET .....................c....... . 14th? " 65. A'LOVEaO'QUAIUREII.M-.*T.....9...;-... t... 15ht "71. THE ATTEMPT AT MSUICIDE .."......,..................... 16th " 76. TH" instron ..i...0:9.i.ef . r.......... ..i.. ...Je at a 8o. A NIGHT OF ADVENTURES.................................. " 18th " 85. H.r RIMINATION # fi{.i ""f ' C 20th i "II 1 1,' i. M 99.1t , 2 CRIMINATION............................ ............... 2th 1 c96. . ,(L W SO:JgWR ii l:r . ,. ... slis-....,.a., . .. ......". .,"f .f .± ..7... 21s4 02 LOVE................................................................ ' 22d "Io5. CONGJW V0N............ ...... .................................. "107. HISTORY OF TIIOTRY TUGG MUTTON. CHAPTER, THE FIRST., WHO TIMOTHY ,WAS. . w&--s--T-"o TIMOTI:TtUGG 1 Urogr was an or'ph npopr f6tOW'.so pC0- ple said,.though it.Wagenera ly snoposed tha t taver early pe- riod of his exit1pne, there were some giving sons t who he was indebted for his being. Nothing definite uau' this oit,h66w- ever, was known to the folks in and around Un . The i- falitile, Mutton was' found close b John trkins garden gate, oie morning, with a locket and chain around his ne'zk, and ave large 'shawl around his veny small person but liw he ca ie-thee, w question that the people of linkvilne reliiethn iy i kn ledged their inability to solyes To be sureEthere s as'ei1atiir4dn- ti uated,; wihered anatomyw, 0 oXressed a relief that John'Pir- kins knew,more; about the inatter fhan he would atin' at this vile insinuation found little credenceB among ite'li kill''s, o .their lasting honor be it said., Thit what was to bAdri Vith this mysterious Muttegp?(The initials hn he locket being . T. l., by common consent, the boy was called Timothy Tugg Mutton'as soon as found.) What was to be done with him, was the exttiestion under debate with these excellent people; but long before they ar- rived at the conclusion that they really didn't know what, the es- timable John Perkins took the child into his house, placed it in his housekeeper's arms and told her that, as he didn't know but he might adopt it as his own son (provided the parental Muttons were not found), he wished her to be kind to it, and (simple-hearted John!) give it plenty to eat and drink, accordingly. page: 6-7[View Page 6-7] 6 TIMOTHY TUQG MUTTOIN. About this time, another youth, younger and yet more diminutive than Timothy, whose name ws lhdrley ragg, (or was to be, when he became old enough) and whose age was hard on to four weIslikewieinabited Blinkille. Scragg, unlike Mutton, had a father, and ifwe ieeiber right- ly, a mother also. This, however, is not material. Charley's father,2Ebenezar Archibald Scragg, was at that time the great man o Blinkville, the head and front of all offending, defending, pre- tending, contending, suspending, expending and everything else of a public nature. He was very fat and comfortable looking, so was" his bank account'; in fact, he Avas very rich in two ways-rich in worldly goods, and just as rich in what worldly goods can't pur- chase-health and spirits. Of his ancestry, nothing need be said --in truth, nothing can be said, for nothing is clearly known, and it is scarcely ;worth while to argue as to their former existence, when such an inference is natural. 'Moreover, ancestry, In oitr Republican land is ofno importance whatever, and, furthermore, the ancestors of Squire Scragg have not the slightest bearing upon the history of Mutton: Nancy, the rosy house-keeper of John Ierkins, agreed, with much seeming cheerfulness, to do as John requested, although she didn't like it, and we can't blame her, for it happened that she had just entered into a matrimonial engagement with din h; (ceremony to come eff in six weeks) and, of course, she had her own expeEta- tions. However, she called the child a little'lamb, and aA for the next ensuing twelve months, she treated it admirably well ; this little lamb grew to be one of the stoutest Muttons of his age, in those or any other parts. ; ;; , f; ,: 3 y of° s .{f' .1 'SH xA I :.f r r i ,: - y, t {,yr 7 = f f 'f i 3 T t a F'P 4 l fly 3d k a't 3 '; t g i 1 "".'{{ ,H YVVV !ftt Ct ii :tT! 7 CHAPTER THE SECOND. A QUARREL. The reader will please imagine that he has been travelling along with Old Time, on a ten years' tour of observat-ion, and that dur- ing these ten years, things have occurred in various parts of the world, which gave peace and happiness to some, white hairs and broken hearts to others, being to many, the grave to thousands. He will imagine the many poetic truths that might be written of a ten years' lapse of time, for, at present, we are not sufficiently at lei- sure to think of them. Timothy Tugg Mutton has become "the most graceless young varmint that ever wore out shoe leather," at least, so Mrs. Nancy Perkins tells her neighbors. But Mrs. Nancy may be prejudiced, for, although she and John have a son of their own, (that half na- ked six year old chap, who is paddling in the horse-trough,) John nevertheless clings to- Mutton and won't let him be sent away and bound to that hard-hearted farmer who lives a mile up the lane. John can't see why Mutton should leave him at all, for his (John's) house is roomy, his acres broad, his wealth increasing daily, and, moreover, says kind John, "I've taken a great liking to the boy, and where's the use 2" Strong as this argument wan, it failed to convince Mrs. Nancy, as in fact, was the case with every argu- ment lie ventured to advance. She would have her own way, and she asserted her prerogative in all things so determinedly, that her husband, being a peace-loving man, invariably gave way. Invaria- bly? No! He wouldn't send away Mutton. But where is this juvenile--this grand human apex of domestic contention ? At this time, he ought to be in the village school stud- ying hard, but, instead of being there, he is with Charley Seragg behind the old barn, engaged in tying an antiquated tin kettle to Mrs.-Nancy's cat's tail.- Look at the precious couple I Tim is very good-looking in the face, and is very tall for his age, though an im- mense deal too thin for his height, while Charley is exceedingly short and exceeds in circumference his perpendicular admeasure- A QUARREL, page: 8-9[View Page 8-9] TIMOTR 704 BUTTON. ment. Doubtless, t way=with a: iew to their personal appearance that the boys at school gave the latter the -subriquet of "Mutton Scragg," and the former that of the "seragg of Mutton." And such a lot of precocious youngsters that got whipped by masters Mutton and Scragg for making use of these queer-sounding appellations ! But all invain: Tim in the rerembrances of his early companions, was-never anything hut a'Sci'agg of Mutton." And such friends as were Tifand Charley! Talk of Damon and Pythius! Damon wouldn't have ddne half as much for Pythins, or Pythius for Damhn, as Tin would have done for Charley, or Char- ley for ;'im. Charley couldn't, place a crook'd pin upon the old schoolmaster's easy chair, without first getting Tim to inspect the :point ; nor could Ti blow snuff into a. school mate's eyes, with- out getting Charley to steady the hollow reed whikh contained it. Hear the young rascals laugh I-See that maddened, miserable cat dashing along,:heltet'skelter, with that antiquated tin kettle fasten- ed to her tailI John Perkins- was in his comfortable sitting room drawing out the plan of a new waggon house, and his gentle helpmate was sit- ting in her rocking-chair near-him ; holding the dairy maid through the door which conniunicated with the kitchen. Whether it was, }n account of the heat'of the room, or on aoeount of the arimth of his better half's temper, we never learned, but John rose up as if to open the window before him, when in dashed the'cat with much hubbub and yelling, shatteing the glass, upsetting the ink, be- spattering. the paper and demolishing poor Perkins' nose with a corner of the antiquated kettle." "Look at the state of this cat"--"cried Mrs. Nany. "Look at the;state of my nose;" interrupted John. "Blow your nose," shouted"Mrs. Nancy-not that sie meant it as a reqauet inthe literalsense, but as an expression of derisive contempt. , ust lodk at the eat; it's almst 'dead. Oh, I wish I could get hold ifrhim!" aedwsherdokediserself violently ancdhug- ged the cat eloselytoiier boomfo although he wordsnight have indicatedit,- it was net that unfoitunat animal hie desiried to.get hold upolw, but sote idividxal Who *as 'ft eiehtat the tiniA i i k k 1 3tit S s = 9 k ^ i k i 1 /q 4 + r 5 f a l S{ 1 h v f Y +t 3 I j T S T C .e2 F q( r E G {h$ Lit nr } #rv fy P CJs k SkN' A QVU1RET. 9 "I'll submit to this no longer," continued Mrs. Perkins, "my very heart bleeds." "My nose certainly does," murmured John. "What's that you say?" questioned Nancy, angrily. "Nothing, my dear," answered John, meekly. "Don't 'dear' me, John Perkins," exclaimed Mrs. Nancy, as she put down the cat, and brushed the wrinkles off her apron (without thinking of the deeper ones which ill-temper was marking on her brow) "don't 'dear' me. Gracious kntws there's precious little love you have for me, precious little. But I will be mistress in my own house, and I'll send that nasty, little, meddling, good- for-nothing varlet packing, before I am a day older, now I tell you. I'll be imposed upon no longer, U'm determined." John, during this harangue, had resumed work upon his waggon- house plan, and had drawn two lines, one horizontal to describe the foundation, and the other perpendicular to describe the south-east corner post. But his wife's vehemence caused him to make a mis- take and he took out a knife to repair it. The difficulty was that he had drawn the corner post beneath the foundation, instead of over it. "Do you hear me, John Perkins ?" asked Mrs. Nancy. "Of course, I do, Nancy !" said John with his customary mild- ness. "You needn't talk so loud, my dear." "I told you before, not to 'dear' me," shouted Mrs. Perkins, and she gave the poor cat (who had jumped upon her lap and creased her apron again,) a blow that sent her half way across the room- "keep your 'dears' for the woman who put that brat at your gate. Precious good right she had to do it, I dare say." "What do you mean by that ?" asked John, suddenly looking her in the face. "Mean ?" cried Nancy, vehemently-"mean ? Why I mean that I am of old Kringle's opinion, as tq who's the father of that boy- and I just want to tell you now, that if my house is to be the har- bor of all your-." -Mrs.Perkins stopped suddenly, for her husband's eyes were fixed upon her with an expression she never afterwards forgot. In spite of herself, she cowed beneath that in- 0 J page: 10-11[View Page 10-11] 10 TIMOT y TIYGG MbTTON. feiible glance, ancid he felttoo late, that by one fase-'step, she had overthrown her fabric of absolutism, never to be re-built. "Woman," exclaimed John, in a tone which sent the blood cours. ng with icy, chillness. through'the veins of the repenting terma- gant, "for what you've said to me, whom you know better, had you been a han, I'd have strangled you, but, thank-heaven ! you are a wmnanthough an rring one, and your sex protects you. You are nMy wife, and not even your ill-temper, which I've born with pa- tiently' for many a past day, can'cause me to forget the bond bet. ween us. :But now that-you've'forced me into angry thoughts, let me tell you that PI1 have my way hereafter, in peace and quiet, or you or I must leave this house forever. Have you no charityP Have you no fear of that 'Saviour who coinmanded all his creatures to observe it ih their dealings with their fellow men? We are rich and prosperous, and it would be strange, indeed, if we could not spare a little for a poor defenceless orphan." Nancy was subdued. Her empire was dissolvedSher high horse demolished-she burst into tears ! Her husband tried to feel p erfectly callous, for he thought, per.. haps, the lesson was not complete, but it would not do.--Stern as he was when roused, he was not proof againsta woman's tears, specially when those tears were videnuc of the birth of better feelings in that woman's heart, that woman, too,his wife. He Went- softly to where she sat and took her hand. And then he whisper- ed gently, that the voWs they had made at the altar, were heard by the saie great Judge before whom'all had to bow when being ceased, that to tamper with that sacred band, was to sin most deep.. ly. And stealing through her heart she felt a new emotion, and throwing'hetself upon' her husband's breast, she kissed him, and both sobbed audibly! g- f -} .h5 7 t Y1 J e, r a A it ti jxL ti I a tr All p2 u f t5'y f t t' tidREU L TS. 11 CHAPTER THE THIRD. 0SUTs. When the cat started on her gallop, Tim and Charley started af- ter her to witness the result. If the truth were told, it would be found that Tim and Charley, by hurling large stones after the per- secuted animal, and putting forth sundry and divers yelpings, like those of dogs, caused her to make for the sitting-room window, as the only positive avenue of escape. It has already been seen that this truly feline idea resulted most wonderfUlly. As a matter of course, glass was shattered, ink was spilled, paper bespattered, and poor Perkins' nose demolished by the corner of the antiquated kettle. Then the skgimatrimonial became darkly overcast, and a storm came up with a deal of thunder and lightning disguised as language. And then a bolt struck, and was'followed by a counter- bolt, and a shower succeeded, turbulent at first, but calming gra- dually, till finally the sky grew brighter far than ever with a pro- mise visible in the new-born light, of lasting peace and absence of contention. Tim and Charley listened til the storm wan t its height, when fearing to stay' longer, lest it should overtake them too, they ran down the valley and sat together beneath a tree by the side of a brook, a little wandering thing with crystal waters, which went murmuring on in their weak way, till the tall old' trees which stood around the house in which the paternalfSragg and his twin children lived so peacefully, hid them from the view. It should be very happy, this- tiny brook, in' the bright valley. froniwhose bosom it springs forth, for it is sweetly shaded by fragrant :shrubs and beau- teous wild flowers, which ever andanon bow down their heads to court its kisses. And it is useful too, this tiny brook, for the thirsty flocksrand cattle of 'the farm:stop herer to drink its pure cool. wa- tersf and then:refreshed,:.martheonalyn;c eeer4glly. Jee, how it dashes against yonder,rok, asif it thoughtitsjpnysprengthvould force. it fi-out its bed, and them, shin g +r bdi q imtp ggn page: 12-13[View Page 12-13] TIMOTHY UG4TBBMUTTON. ler compass as though idbaleiddiid bi ahed.4tlits own weakness, it takes another course, and again goes murmuring on. "Charley," said Tim, in a smothered tone, and with much hesi- tation and pausing : "It's all up,-now, so it is." "What's up, Tim ?" asked Charley, for he didn't comprehend either the ineaninfo r m ianinr of his companionWg e "hy my stayig ere--that's p, answered Tim. And som ting had evieny oint Timsthroat, e had ouch difficulty in getting out the words. "Didn't you hear whatshe aid about my being placdby Jh P ins a aboutheir han a right to do it? I know what she neaitt o ; "aild Timcommenbed' sobbmg, andIns voiee came more. smothered An broken than ever, an dCharl was far ore puzzled at it'th ai before. What's the use, talking on about it ?" said the latter finally y "I kn9w John Perkins. is not myfather," sbbed Tim, "and that he keeps me here just.eeause [ hadn't get.one, nor a mother either." '' "Well; that's nothit g'said h.rley stoically, not that-he meant it at all, but he 1ihou gh it might pessily be consolatory 'It's a good deal," said 'Tim, and he didn't appear to be at all impressed 'by his friend's-remark, but;:.en the contrary, sobbed even louder than before..;"He's a good man," continued he, "and I love him; but she. is always abusing him onrmy'account, andso PIl go away,, farfar: from here, and then after} I'm gone, may be there'll be peace.", ,And the tears he.had so long endeavored to. suppress, burst forth in torrents now, and filing dQwn upon the long grass blades, hung there glistening ' And Charley was lost in thought 'and could not see why Tim" should care for harsh words that were not addressed to him. He turned the matter over and over again in his mind, but could not solve' the problem. ','' "Yes, I'll{ g,"redunned Tim, after a pause, "it's better Ishould. I know no one a ay feoni'here in the whole world, but it's no matter what beoamesoef ie; for no'one eares. May be, some one maf° ake ' i ' it 1dM e kludrto =he;and not be abused for 'being so i . . F ; S ., C±Y f ; 5 rA 3 '.f T I i i S- a 3 tR'l ii i ,F f n 3 4 rt 11 1 . i. r V and then, when I get 0oT leidughhi' work,I'll wrk for them, and earn money for them, and niot be a burthen any more." "Tim! let me go with you!" cried Charley, suddenly, as if elat- ed by the idea. But Tim told Charley that it wouldn't do;' that people would say ke had doaxed-himir away, -and that they, might send strongR men after them, who would beat them cruelly and bring Them back again' 'And he tald himt too, in his childish way,.'that there were plenty-'who loved hin down'at his house, and if hewent away they'd take on dreadfully. -'And (Charley glanced down the-valley towards his home, and he felt, instinctively, how great his father's grief' would; be" if' he :should lose him, and how his little sister would wander round in search of him, until at last, finding that he was gone indeed, would'pine away, perhaps, and die, aid be bur- ied in the col earth, sothatihe could never see her more. "No,I can't leave there; Tim,"-said he, at last;'"indeed, indedd ; cn't !" Then Tim told him,she' was right, and they took each 'other A. hands, and spoke of seeing each other, when, they became men and that they then would again become' good friends and bo6irades, as they were now. And then, they'threw- their arms' around etch other's necks, and again, and again, 'they said "good bye;" ,until Tim rushed hastily away,' though he could hardly see 'whei-e he was going for the tears' that rose up in his eyes and blinded him. -nd Oclarley watched him till he-disappeared, and then,-feeling as.though= his'heart was breaking, he ran 'sobbing homeward, along, the side of the little brdok, which seemed to murmur louder far than ever, as though' Was mocking at his misery! And in spite a fall his searchings and enquiries, years passed away before John Perkins heard of Tim again. 1E " f & f ' RESULTS. page: 14-15[View Page 14-15] TIMOTHY TUGG MUTTON. CHAPTER -THE FOURTH. THE TEMPTATION. "No, no, I dare not!. Leave me, leave me, for the love of heaven.", The speaker was a female; youthful, for her age was but eight. een; beautiful, for she was the reigning star of the constellated cir- cle in which she moved.; rich, for she was wedded to a man whose means were boundless ; happy she should .be, too, for her husband worshipped her as a being of celestial light:--he bore for hera-love so exquisite in its sensibility, that, did the slightest shade, start o'er her brow, a treble darkness crept about his heart and'chilled it to the core. And yet, he felt, she did not love him i-and this thought, at last, became a-haunting demon, (that flitted across his mental vision in the quiet, shadowy night, and in the busy, sun-lit day, and never left him even momentary peace. And often, in her presence, he would struggle to forget it, though vainly ; for the de . mon never left him, but would follow, him even to his marriage bed and torture him! For, even from the day they stood together at the- altar, she was imperious and cold, and never smiled upon him. Yet, there was one whom she did love, in her fickle way; but the badge ofpoverty was about him---so, when her marriage day, was fixed, she cast him off, and he went wandering about the earthyuntil, as it was said,,he died, alone and broken-hearted! Her husband was a score of years her senior : but he was rich and, courted1i and she, though bright and beautiful, was penniless and lowly. Ambition crushed each gentler feeling of her heart; men's love it cost her little toil to win ; and -so-without a sigh and never thinking of the vileness of the act-she put her beauty up in market and SOLD it to the one who bid the highest! But, was she happy ? She had won all ambition craved for---the station and the wealth that brought around her swarms of fashionable grub- worms, with empty heads and callous hearts: and she shone among them unrivalled and peerless, admired and envied; but, in all the ia 14 e4 j1 STREH - TEMPTATION. ~I1 train, there was not one, who, could she have been taken from this miserable slough of fashionable folly, and raised again to what she was in her humble times gone by-a better, purer creature far, than she was now-that would have deigned to waste on her one- tithe the incense, they were offering on the altar of her chance- made greatness. Merton, her husband, was a MAN, an honest man,. a plain one; a man whose highest aim was to do good to all, of cha- rity untiring, for he never would believe that baseness in his fel-. low creatures laid deeper than the surface. And yet, she did not, love him! She, for whom he would have given up their little child, his wealth, his ALL on earth! It was night; Isabel Merton sat in her sumptuous chamber, and at her feet-must we say it?-with her hand. clasped in his, sat one of those moral 'lazara of society, a handsome, unblushing li- bertineI "Isabel, sweet Isabel," he murmured, "beautiful and beloved- nay, do not withdraw your hand;, for it is one that I would pawn my soul to callmy own. Let it be mine, and I swear to you by those, bright saints-your prototypes-by all my hopes of peace hereafter, by the love-pangs which rend my bosom now, I'll make your life one endless summer day of sunny brightness, one varying crowding train of joys, so rapturous, that a thought of the base outside world, with its dull cares and miseries, can never find its way into the circle which our love will render sacred. Say, sweet, beautiful, beloved Isabel, say shall it not be so ?" And he clasped her hand more warmly, and gazed upon, her face with his deep unfathomable eyes, as though his very life hung trembling upon lips that in opening might destroy it. And Isabel's heart beat passionately, and an impulse came to throw herself into her lover's arms, and weep, and tell him she was his.. Did she resist it? YES ! "No, no," she cried, "I-dare not. Leave me, leave me, for the "You do not love me then ?" he said. But she made no answer, for she was suffering deeply., This man was a skillful reader of the human face.. He moved ;, Jit, 1. i r= , (yRy{ fR r;t e @@ S k f 3 page: 16-17[View Page 16-17] 16 TIMOTRY TU4G} 11ITTON. toward the doorybut turning, with:his hand upon the latch, to look at her again: he saw, as he expected, her eyes directed after him With a saddened beseeching glance, and the large tears chasing each other down.her cheeks. He rushed back quickly. "You love me then," he cried, "though I feared that I was, scorned.- Oh, happiness! those tears are far more precious to me than the fabled flower from whose half-openedpetals drop the sa- cred waters of immortality. Oh, should we then-we;, that love, each other fondly as we do-care for aught else beside the joys. that mutual love will;give? Or should, the ebld and heartless: world, that in your wedded state-a-barrier of formality alone-" "Cease, Clinton," exclaimed Isabel, "I dare not hear you fur- ther. That barrier does exist, and to break it by my own act would be to plunge- into an abyss of shame, from which .I never more could rise. My husband loves me, though I love him not, he is faithful to ine, and, while he yet remains so, I'll not dishonor him. Reflect upon the step you:have,,proposed, its consequence to me- to be the, jeer and byword of the town! Qh, Edmund,, be content to know that unutterably well I love you, and the day may come, perhaps-.--..'" Pausing. suddenly, she grasped her lover's arm, and then, with increased.agitation, articulated faintly, "some one has entered the house--for Heaven's sake, begone." He listened for a moment. "It must have been a servant then," he said. "Perhaps my husband! Go, go, quickly !" "Three days, at least, he was to have been absent, so you said," and Clinton tried to re-assure her with a smile. "Something may have occurred to bring him back," she gasped, for she really thought ,that Ruin, glaring and hideous, was staring, her in the face. "Caroline will contrive to let you out. Fly, and save me, while there is yet a chance !" 'And if'it is not he," he whispered, "when shall we meet ~p again?" "At any time," --.she replied--"to morrow.r-vwhen you wish, so you, but leavyssenow2.. - And hacaught.er his army;; nd imported a kiss;upon her 'TIE WAGE. 17 pale brow, which she suffered tnresistingly. Then, releasing her, he stole softly from the room and house ; but when in the street, he paused and looked up at the window of a chamber fi-om which a light was gleaming. "No noise," he thought, "she is still alone, and likely to remain so. I was a fool to let a woman's fancies startle me." But no sooner had he gone than Isabel felt all the strength she had assumed deserting her, and sh'e'fell faihting to the floor. And Clinton knew not this, though he still stood gazing at the window from which the light was gleaming. fr I.x !RJi CHAPTER THE FIFTH, THE WAGER. "Holloa, Ned!" cried one of a party of young midnight brawlers, as he clapped Clinton familiarly on the shoulder, "What the devil are you doing here, staring up at old Merton's windows, eh ? Are you waiting in hopes of getting a glimpse of his lovely wife, en die.-. habille, or has she granted you an interview, sub rose, for which you are awaiting the signal ? Come, now -confess." "You jump rather hastily to conclusions, Fred," said another of the party. "Althoughan inveterate coquette, Mrs.Metoh is not the woman, to grant midnight interviews to-conparative strangers ~ among us, particularly during her husband's absence." "That's the very time," exclaimed the young man called -Fred, "the very time for all the world." "But not for men of whom we know as little as we dc of" Mr. Clinton," returned the other. page: 18-19[View Page 18-19] TIMOTHY TUGG .fWTTON. 19~ THE WAGER. Perhaps,-Mr. Walters speaks advisedly," said Clinton sneering- ly. And Walters was greatly nettled at his tone, the more so, be- cause he both suspected and disliked him, and had not, like the rest, permitted a snnooth tongue and a polished exterior to win him over. "I speak, sei," he retorted, "as becomes agman to speak, when he hears a lady's honor uselessly called in question." "Then you are confident of this lady's, So confident, sir," answered Walters, "that I would stake my ny life upon it!" for he was carried beyond all bounds by the in- suiting coolness of the other's manner. "Your life, sir," exclaimed the libertine, in a tone which by no means restored the other's good humor. "The stake is too vast -I have nothing wherewith to cover it. Stake something tangible, and I am your man, that her virtue is not invulnerable." "Mr. Clinton," answered Walters, with forced calmness, "I feel that such an affair is utterly unworthy of a gentleman, yet, in or- der that the arrogance of your pretensions may receive a salutary and merited rebuke, I will waive the feelings of delicacy which--" "I fully appreciate the feelings of delicacy which you profess," interrupted Clinton, "but I must beg that you will come to the point. Dare you bet?", Walters' face became almost scarlet,---"Sir," he exclaimed, "I will bet you-five thousand dollars that you cannot obtain an inter- view with Mrs. Merton in the solitude of her bed-chamber, at night, or at any time within three days, provided that underhand or compulsory measures are not resorted to." "Gentlemen!.gentlemen!" cried another of the party, "this af. fiir is becoming serious.. Let it rest here, I beg." "I accept the wager," said Clinton, "and agree to the proviso. Gentlemen, you are all witnesses to the compact." "But," asked Fred, "how will it be decided?" ° "Easily," answered'Clinton. i "And I will not only 'with fair dealing, obtain a private interview with the lady in her own cham- ber, but she shall voluntarily consent to become mine." "Buttthe proof M . "She shall, of her own free will,". continued the, villain, "elope , , . i . C= ;; i i ' l __ , i ..s t [G LS .,, 1iy. "} 3 , ' 1 t'f + TI f f k 1 + s ; " ,7 _. t , ' a i' '3 F i i ' d - , z } Y i. bsy s. v i i ,a; iF' with me from her= husband's house; and I make this elopement n.e cessary for the fulfillment of the compact." "And now, sir," said Waiteis,'with a. glance of mortal enmity at his opponent, "now that-this honorable wager has been discussed in all its bearings, permit me, sir, to say, that for the insole-nce of your demeanor towards me on this and past Occasions,; as well as the deliberate and cowardly insult you have offered to a lady I knew from childhood, and esteemed, I shall demand at the expiration of three days, the satisfaction of a gentleman. "'Certainlyj sir, certainly," answered Clinton flippantly. "You shall have all the satisfaction I can give you, as soon as I return to town ; but you really must allow me more than these three days. It would not be courteous, you know, or complimentary to the la- dy, were I to discard her in so short a time. Mr. Walters, adieu jusqu' au revoir. Gentlemen, all, good night, and don't forget the wager." And the villain turned upon his heel and sauntered cil whistling carelessly. "By my soul, I'm sorry this thing has occurred," warmly ex- claimed the young man, who had spoken against the mak ing of the wager, for I fear it will have a result we all will long regret." "Clinton will lose, depend upon it," said another. "No," exclaimed Fred, "he'll win." "And if he does," muttered Walters, with his teeth set firmly, "he dies." The third hour of the morning had passed away, yet Edmund Clinton, as though each moment was of vital import, still sat plan- ning and plotting in his chamber. "There ! that will get him out the way," he muttered. "And now for Isabel. Force will not do-let me think. She says her husband is faithful to her, and that while heyet remains so she'll not dishonor him. Why, my course is clear l I'll have a.letter writ- ten---but by whom? Bill is the only man here that knows who I re- ally am, and, consequently, is the only man whom I could trust, for I see that some of these people are beginning to suspect me.- I U I 1 I- .18 i ' ' y " , : , r,; , , , :' ~ ,,, ; ; : ; , . - ty1 I page: 20-21[View Page 20-21] t _, ' 1 y Z " k F1 s. i z TIMOTHY :TUG MUTTON. Pshaw! - lll write a letter to myself, and show it to her. Let me see; I must have an envelope with a recent postmark. Aye, here is one--the very thing! Novw for the letter." As our readers may be curious to know the contents of this, epis- tie, we will take advantage of our ubijuitarian privileges, and look over the, writer's shoulder. N w YoRK,.July 26,1820. "My dear Ned :T--Business obliged me to leave town on the 24th, quite unexpectedly, and consequentLfy I couId not tall upon you at yourrooms, as I had promised.. I should have written you; an O;pol-. ogy, but ,had but a few minutes time to prepare for my departure. .However,,let this sufficer-I shall be back in a week= at fur-. thest, meanwhile let "our set" become possessed of these facts, or they'll think.I have committed matrimony, or drowned myself, or something of that desperately agreeable nature. "By the way, you know old Merton ? I caught him finely, just .before -Ieat, -and the thing will furnish excellent food for scandal, and may bepalatably dished up for all glsses gWould you think it ? Instead of, being in Schenectady, as his pretty wife believes, he is cozily domiciled with an interesting little creature, at that very same house, (if you rememberit),'in which you, during a former visit to our :town, risked ygur life'.to 'save. an unfortunate country lass, who had been decoyed there by a demon in the shape of man. I am surprised at Merton, and had Iinot seen him with the woman, would never have believed it. Go and satisfy your- self--it will pay you 'for the trouble. Yout cousinand friend, HT .'CLINTONd To Edmund Clinton, Esq." "Most of people hive cousins, muttered the letter writer ;: "why should t I 'have one.; Stop, I inuat add a postsoript.' "If the thing has not got'cut before you receive this, for his un, fortnateie wife's sake, you had better ,say nothing 'abriut it.' "No,"' thight Clinton, "suppose ,this husband 'should cgrne backkbefo to-.iorrew night ? Nbomatteri go that can but gainan 4 THE WAGER. 21 r, r- s i t i i I'A }'fr u t F {p Y L 2 24 'I I interview with Isabel and place this letter in her hands. There is little fear she'll tax him with it, or even breathe a single doubt that he would hear, but on the other hand, she has begun to hate him so sincerely, that she will grasp with eagerness at any thing that will keep her conscience quiet. But I'll go to bed, for I've' much to do to-morrow." It was then' to-morrow, though not yet day-the to-morrow that two hours after spread -its broad light about the, world. And be- fore retiring, the conspirator again read the two letters'he had writ- ten, and he smiled and chuckled over them as though he had done an honorable thing that would confer peace and happiness on all within the circle of his influence. And slowly crept that day away, and seemed to the husband in his absence, and to the lover and to the wife, in their impatience, as though 'twould never end. And night came on again, but Richard Merton still was absent from his glittering but empty-hearted home-absent from her he loved so tenderly and well--absent, when her salvation, and his own earthly peace hung trembling in the balance. Where did he linger ? ', . 9 y , ,r , page: 22-23[View Page 22-23] TIMOT .'TUQ4MUTO1. TER..' ,1 AT 'THE SIMXTH TNlE PL1 IlOT RJIESSINGe ,A d, lielteied'y the night the libertine, at a signal from afe- male, entered the house Anon, =behold hi-iratheohramber of the 'erring ,wife-not at her feet, 'as 'hereAfore,'but sittingboldly by her side, and pouring into her eais4heh onied woids ofrhisdisreputable passion. - And -yit despite the: love she thoughtshe bore for him despite her effortssto forgetall ,save the impassioned pleadertat her side- spite of herself-her husband's image rose up from themis't of eor- rupting inaerieies drotind, And. terrified her. ,And eshnaniid the whirl;of kher eideIted'fa noies,:She thought of Mertoa'sJove. for heir- so-boundless and unchanging, his goodness an'd:his unstained life, enda little ad6iitor within hec boso rwou ld whisper, 'he is faith- ful to hee-do-not disbandribi! - adeachsthought ' tedpl i iy;ut, wpoiher fhie; ami Clnton read it. And whe'neer She -,ominiined most ea'rnestl , With her better self, he seemed to feel that he was.losing ground, and, fix- ing his dark tempter eyes on hers, would break into a new strain of doubly-impassioned eloquence. But the little monitor within her bosoni whispered still, "he is faithful to thee-do not dishonor him!"j Then Clinton spoke of what would be her lot were she but his. How he would cherish her in sickness' and in health, and never leave her side. How hewoud -he her-slave, and anticipate her every wish, even before 'twas formed. How in some fairer land to which they'd fly, she should outshine the brightest jewel of the social coronet, eclipsing even dames of noblest ancestry. And then, contrasting such a lot with the poor, rayless, present one, he urged her to a choice ; but, again, the little monitor sent up its whisper- ed warning, "he is faithful to thee-do not dishonor him." And even as if he had heard the very whispered words within her bosom, the tempter said; "Oh, my beloved!l you drive me to do that which I would rather lop off the fingers of these hands than do; _F t Via. i r E t ,,; ° F _ i. 1 C +f t F ,; .,( h s {r ,' S' rr f 7 k, A 4 ' r8 , 4" " l :F ;~ . ryy .+ i i l' i i .-i i' ,t '"[ "i r . TIe PLOfP OGRESING. but, now that all entreaty-even my agony-has failed to move you, upon the weakness of another I must build, or perish." "What do you mean ? she; asked; starting as though alarmed. "Sweet Isabel," murmured he, "upon my knees I beg forgive- ness, if I offcndi but see, I am a struggling, dying wretch, and will you blame me, if I, to save myself, should bring- destruction on another?" "Still ambiguous," she said, and'her emotions a very child might have interpreted, so palpable they were, "Speak plainly-whom do you mean. Do you not see how I am suffering ' Is it my hus- band?" "Yes," answered Clinton, slowly, as if with reluctancy and pain. "Well, well," resumed Isabel, impatiently, "what of him? speak! answer ! keep me no longer in suspense." "Yes, I must speak," he said, "but Isabel, do me the justice to believe that I would have scorned to tell you this.for the advance- ment of my own purposes, alone, and therefore I have kept this knowledge from you, lest -" She.started from her seat. "What knowledge? Would you drive me mad??' "The knowledge of your husband's infidelity!" "To what? to whom?" "To You !" She stood asif transfinedI! Her husband false to HER!I to her, before whose footstool,(those who paid their court to her declared) monarchs would not feel it derogation of their majesty to bend!I To her-her husband false to her I Impossible. But he placed the written "proof" within her hands, and she fixed her eyes upon it and read it gaspingly. And when he said that he, too,'had been-there, and saw with liis' own eyes her hus- band's perfidy, she could not doubt, for 'she believed the bribe of countless worlds could never move her lover to a lie. Her husband false' to her! The archstone of her vanity had given way, the pillars of her f ; 1 a i .' r S:, ' t i' c 'c i i # - # S i jj S'd } page: 24-25[View Page 24-25] TXMOTHr tUGG MUTTON. 24 , , f _. : . r ' ,! 1 yy ' d :i ; F4 1', -,G I . ( }N1 f n l # F 1 k '' (E' i Y ,3 r ( t 1 i Ll a_ k 'f 1. _ .1 : } C ' yr",A "i _ ; ' " ,;r y f Q f ^ . }s- i' Jt t +. ? r gloryand the whole fabric -of her pride toppled headlong and ruin. ously downs "And now, sweet.Isabel," murmured the human viper at her feet, "will you: still scorn my faithful love, for' the base second thoughts of-one who but professes love to cloak his perfidy ?" And every word .became engraven op her heart as, it fell from his false lips, though she made-no sign nor token that she heard. And once more he arose, and would have clasped her in his arms, but she pushed him rudely off and stood there, proud and unbend- ing, as though she had determined while she remained within that house," she still would reign its queen. "Isabel!" cried Clinton, "you surprise me. Be yourself. Time flies. I have avery thing prepared-let us go hence at once." "False to me," exclaimed Isabel. "Oh, heaven! that ever I had put it in the pwer"of 'man to say he has been false to me. But I'll go now, yes, yes, I'll go" "Oh, my beloved," cried Clinton, "the transports with which yourwords have-ilhed my breast--.. "Peace, Clinton,' interrupted Isabel, "I feel no transports here. And with my hand upon my heart, I call heaven to: witness that the sole motive which impels me to this step, is to be avenged, amply avenged upon the Oman who dared make m a cloak for such unblushing infamy." "Isabel!" cried Clinton, with a start,-and he was really startled: for her last words revealed a feature in her character which skil- fully ,as he had read hei', he did not dream existed. He thought her but a 'ain, proud creature, with a heart on which 'new images were constantly impressed ; but, never did it occur to him that by wounding that heart through its thick covering of pride, she might become a very giantess in mental strength, and prostrate all who wronged hers Leave me now, Clinton," she exclaimed, at length,. "forI am not myself. ,Return here in:an, hour, or less, and I will be prepar-, ed. Do with e.a; syou will when I have'eft this house; take me where you please, and treat me as you plase, for I am wholly There was still a strange light gleaming from her eyes,- and he well knew it would be better to leave her to herself, as she request- ed. So he took her hand respectfully and fondly, and pressed his lips to it, and said, that in an hour he would return, and they never more would separate. And long after he had gone, she stood immbveable upon the same spot, 'usy with thought. Every pastaction of her life was now remembered, even from childhood. And she thought sadly of the true heart whom, for his poverty, she had cast off as her marriage day drew near, and of his having gone wandering about the earth and dying early, as 'twas reported, alone and broken-hearted. But the winter-time of her repentance was to come. At length, the door again opened, and a beautiful young girl en- tered the chamber. In stature, she was slightly above the medium size and most admir- ably proportioned, but it was her face, :more than her figure-ele- gant though it was-that arrested the, attention of the beholder. Her eyes were black as a starless night, and equally as unfathom- able, her nose and mouth were most exquisitely chiseled, yet there was a something that marred the general expression, which some- thing, though neither inelegant or repulsive, was, nevertheless, a slight detraction from what other wise would have been most glo- rious beauty. It was the sensuality of the countenance, betraying, as it did, ardent desires and inextinguishable passions. But it was evident that the station she held in this house she was by no means designed for., Her mistress, however, knew nothing fur- ther of her than that Clinton recommended her to her as a waiting maid, she being, as he told Isabel, a girl of respectable parentage, who had met with sad reverses. But it was to abet him in his designs that Clinton desired the employment of the girl, and she had a motive for agreeing to serve him thus. She was his door- opener, his go-between, his spy, and she seemed to be a most wil- ling instrument. Isabel started when this girl entered.-."Why did. you not knock?" she demanded, imperiously. 25 ft THE~ 'L'OTPROGR'E5$tG. c . page: 26-27[View Page 26-27] . TIMOTfY TUG;MtJTTON. "Excuse me, madam," said the girl, "but I thought you might have occasion for my services." "Your services; exclaimed Isabel, "at this hour of night - "Why, yes, madant, 'answeired'the girl. "Mr. Clinton, inpass. ing out, (he was listening in the passage at that moment!) direct. ed.me to cope to yquchamber,, and to be ready to re-admit him in an hour." "True, Caroline, I forgot," murmured poor Isabel. "Yes, I do require your services. Are the servants all asleep ?" "They are, au were Caroline. "But be not afraid, dear ma- dam, to'repose full confidence in me, forI would not betray one who has been so kind to,me for all the world. Mir. Clinton has informed me of your intended flight, and under circumstances of such a nature e; I sincerely believe the step to be perfectly excus- able." Under ciicuimsances of suh a nature? echoed Isabel. "What circumstances" ' - "I a1 ude to Mi. Mertoni's conduct, madam," answered the girl. "Forgive me if I ini to bold;'but l was informed by the servants --but'I offend you; pray forgive me." The co'Pvrs1 adIsabel's features rapidly. "So soon, ' she thought-"the s uervnts 'tooCan this ting be a plot No, no, it must be true,or how Would'this young creature know-(simple Isabel!) abdthe assurance Edmund gave me- n o doubt the die i 'st 'h damidno u For' a few ments thrwas a profound silence, broken at last "byIsabel, whoUiconsciously murmured " 'No Caroline you have riot offended me. It is all too true." "Shall j pepire for your departure aske the girl abriptlr. "Yesat once." Bit will you not go with me?" "Oh y e itmdai,"n epiia the girlwith seeminga wherever you may plses. '- g s Then isali told ier'to look fitst to the child and0to clothe it warmly, and, if possible, to avoid breaking its repose. And she direat-ed her' toabk bud a few things for he, and1 t articular not to include any present fromher 'husband. "As thgir turned i F .E frFF":2 t .3 r9 I . g .E TU T,4O PR"~ESN' ,127 to leave the room, a smile flitted about her beautiful lips a strage one, a smile in which .an hundred hates, passions and purposes were mingled, And when.Isabel was again alone, again erttboughts wandered back to theoft forgotten past. And a. sense of loneliness And mis. ery shot through her brain, and then a tear started tp. her eyes, and was followed by another and another, till finally she threw herself upon a couch and wept most bitterly. Oh, that Merton, at:that moment, had returned! In another chamber, in the, sane house, a h ndsone;ent eelook- ing man, of some four and thirty years of age, was talking in an undertone with a very lovely looking girl of twenty. "But, you could not marry her, even if you wished' served the girl. ' "I would not marry her, even if I could," rejoined the r a,n' "Do you not see my plan. She is willing to become& oigs, without ceremonial or bond. Then, if I can hut put aie the hand, can manage to possess myself"of. the:bulk of: tht estate,. and, gonn vert it into cash, upon which you aid I, my ,id, Ca' move, for parts unknown, and live comfortably and cozily ever after. Ei?? You've promised Yas much" before,'?:' said' the girk yly, 'but once more I'll trust ydu. 'Shall I obey: hex:ir: tructionm",adout the child?" r, "Certainly," answered Clinton. (Of course the reade; has re, cognized the couple.) "She would not godithott it, ' d i eses it is an important object in the fulfilment of my plan,. 1Qil, ,ir- cumspect, my dear, and' our fortune's are ia~gdea r The villain then entered and walked softly along the hall which led to Isabel's chamber. The girl looked after him with flashing eyes and muttered: "This time, Brently, you have not deceived me!" She then went to the bed and taking from it an'infant,' closely muffled up, also walk-- ed in the direction of Mrs.Merton's chamber. Isabel's truly lovely face was hid in Clinton's bosom, and her long luxuriant hair fell loosely about her polished shoulders. Even he, desperate, reckless villain as he was, felt so much touched, as c{ f} yA ;ggar 014 FF v }} Fr r l t t}yg _' k k page: 28-29[View Page 28-29] MTiNt' TtcG: MUTTON. now and ther'she threw the dark tresses off her brow, and looked upin his face in herlmute, 'tearful, helpless way, that for the time he lost sight of his own nature and did not speak a word.= But, when the girl entered the room with the infant in her arms, Isabel exclaimed imaploi ingly, "Dear Edmund, let it t ot be to- right. To-norrow night I'hall feel much more resigned." And Caroline smiled in'the same dark, meaning manner as be- fore, and coming nearer said: "To-morrow n'gkt your husband may be in town !" Isabel started :to her feet, and, in a moment, was like ice again!, Clinton nodded approvingly to the girl, as if she had done a no". ble thing. The girl smiled scornfully. Not another /word was said ; but, as with one hand, Isabel thiew- a shawl about her shoulders, with the other she motioned to the door. And when they gained the door of the, long hall she ,did not even look behind her, but silently crossed the threshold which but eighteen months before, she stepped upon, a bride. She crossed it now a wretched, perjured woman ; but she did not think of that. A coach stood waiting in the street;. and Clinton would have helped lier in, but she motioned Caroline to take the child and en- ter first-then Clinton, and next she, unassisted, entered and.clos- sed the' door. Thus Isabel Merton-left. her husband's house,-in life, never to behold him more! Where, where' did he linger. L F r/ } Y' Z $[. L a T ' tf F ' UNtEXPECTED OOCtR1T1S. 2 CHAPTER'THE SEVENTH. UNEXPECTED oCCURRE(nCZs. But while this little party of excursionists were entering the coach, they did not notice in the darkness a body of men that ap- proached quite near them, so that bef ore the coaphmani could mount , his box they were fairly up to the horses' heads. There may have been some eighteen or twenty men in. the party, but not a voice was heard or the slightest noise, except the heavy, solemn trampling of their feet.. Walking in the centre of,the line, were half a dozen pnen who bore upon their shoulders a dark ob- ject covered apparently with a cloak ; but what that .bject was, it was impossible to distinguish. At length a man, who, with the aid of snall dim lantern, had been examining the plates upon the neighboring doors, exclaimed laconically, "Here !" and he pulled the bell of Merton's house long and loudly, and thew whole body halted. And Clinton's coachman (who, at first, for some reason of his own, was terribly frightened on seeing these men) inquired or the manwho rang the bell, "what might the matter be?" And the man answered that it was a "gentleman whose horse threw him, about three miles out, while on his. way to town ; and that they found him lying in the road as they were going home from work, and knowing him, considered it the best to bring him home at once.~ Isabel, in spite of Clinton's efforts to detain her, sprang hastily from the carriage to the ground,' and at that moment the moon broke through her veil of clouds and shone with undimmed bright- "Is he much hurt ?" she gasped. "His neck was broke , ma'am,".; replied the man, as he took away the cloak, nsee here." She gave one look around-a look of horror, self-accusation and remorse, a shriek, wild and prolonged as though it was the despairing yell of an eternally lost soul, and fell senseless across--Me dead body of her husband. He had returned in time I Cold he was and lifeless, but he re- 29 page: 30-31[View Page 30-31] ;'ICOT Y TUQ G MT QN e Y r" :# ,g Y ' F{ , . 4 turned, even in death, to snatch thetbright=being whom he loved so madly when yet s kind, heart, throbbed and his pulses beat and his eyes could-see, from the very portals of a yawning gulf- the terrible shades of a foul an& infrangible .erdition. And the moon went down again behind a cloud, leaving all i4 darkness as before. But there was a seeming something in the very air that -was quite fearful, and the men peered gloomily into each other's faces, and trembled like little school boys who loose themselves at night, and wander through the church-yard to get home. Raise them up gently-the inanimate dead, and' the scarcely animate living--and if you have tears to shed for pity's .ake, let them fall freely, men, upon your burthens!-for him that he was cut off in the summer of his usefulness-.-.for her that a judgment has fallen on her which condemns her to years and years of bitter and consuming woe. Clinton fell back in the erriage, perfectly furious at his disap. pointment. It would have been pleasant to look at him, had there been light enough to see. , e cursed, ie beat his breast, and pul- led so energetically at his hair, that if Providence had. not ordained that he should wear his own, it would have been difcult to have told the consequences. (A severe cold in the, head, arising from exposure, would have been the least of it.) But curse as he would and pull as he would, it mattered little ,for in the first place, his prey had slipped through his firsgers, and in the second place, he only hurt himself.. And well he knew it would be useless to .ap- proach her now, for the words "on his way to town,' which ba- bel had heard, exposed at once the falsity of Clinton's assurance, that that evening he had seen her husband. iHe had et a de that -yeta eeper game to play than any he had ever engaged in, stained with crime, and familiar with intrigue although he was; for'now pehaps force intimidation and even blood-shed might be neoessaiy.-indeed he cared not what, so, that he gained his end..At length, feeling fe- verish from intense thought, and wondering .if he had not nearly reach his ogings, he put down a window, and saw-could he ". s0 81 UNEXPECTEDOCCURRENCES. believe hissenses?-trees, fences, and now an open country ! He rubbed his eyes, thinking, the darkness may have deceived him, but true enough there they were in the country, and traveling at a rapid rate. He had ,been too busy with his thoughtV, to notice where they had, been going; but a greater surprise was yet in store for him. The girl, Caroline, was sitting in another corner of the coach, perfectly silent and immovable, though she waslistening intently, and had full knowledge of what was going forwards But not hear- ing Clinton even move, a cold fear at length seized her, that favor- ed by the darkness, he had jumped from the carriage and escaped. , Escaped? Yes, that would have been the word, for on the outside were a constable and his two deputies, one upon the box, with the coachman, pleasantly employed in holding a pistolto that individ- ual's head; and the other two behind. The opening of the window relieved Caroline's fears and startled 1" the officers. "Bill!" roared Clinton from the inside, to his accomplice on the box, little dreaming that "Bill" was under surveillance, with a pistol at his head;, "where the devil are you driving to ? Stop!" "Oh, don't trouble yourself," said a gruff voice near him, "just let 'Bill' alone, if you mean your pal, for he's driving just as I or- dered." "You!" exclaimed Clinton, thrusting his head through the win- -dow. "And who are you ?" "Just keep yourhead in, will you ? said the voice, "or I'll hit it with my club." "I insist upon an explanation!" exclaimed the entrapped villain, with a great show of fury. "Well," said the voice, "if you want one partickler bad, why, the long and the short of the matter is this : We've come up from New York with three warrants agin you--one for forgery, one for counterfeiting, and what's worst for you, there's one for murder. There, keep your head in!-so you see-" "Stop, I say," roared Clinton, "this is an outrage,.an unparalel- led outrage! I am a gentleman--my name is Clinton4'.-Edmund Clhinton- and "- page: 32-33[View Page 32-33] TIMOT Y tTUG4ON MtTTO . AQUT "That's all my eye," interrupted the possessor of 'the voice "and ho use either.-For the long and the short 'of the matter is this : We got the.information we Wanfed from an unexpected quarter, and finally we caught you all snug setting in this coach, and so we're going to give you the privilege-of a ride home for trial in your own vehicle. Ha, ha, ha !" and the officer being in a good humor with the prisoner for allowing himself to be ensnared so -easily, laughed very heartily at his expense. "But I say," continued he, after listening'for a while to Clin- ton's curses and vituperation "there isn't the least bit of use going on in that there way, for I tell you you're known, so just hush up. The long' and the short of the matter is that, if you don't I'll anke you." Aid the worthy officer applied himself very steadily, (as fai as the uncertain'light would allow) to guarding against any attempt to escape, should one be made, from his side of the vehicle. CHAPTER THE EIGHTH. CAROLINE. It was perhaps three o'clock in the morning. The young moon having been playing at hide and seek behind the clouds the whole night, began to feel weary after its exertions, and so sneaked oft to bed without being missed in the least, And then a few 'very uncertain stars popped out at intervals, and made desperate efforts to have a shine of it, but with indifferent success. And pretty Caroline having had a deal of sport thinking over her late confederate's trifling mishap, began to feel a surfeit of it, and- finally 'inclined more to colloquial enjoyment, But Clinton, strange to say, was'rude enough to tell her to mind her own bu- siness at the very first onset... Now the pretty Caroline was a la- '! ., ; ' a+: 7 -fi r; i r ,, j_,4; t xi f$ v _ ' { } Ai k 2 n:S J Y °' dy, (or might have been one but for circumstances) beautiful, and as far as appearance went (no further) good. Therefore the read- er must not be surprised at her taking the soi-disant gentleman's rebuff in the light of a positive affront, which she did, for her eyes entertained an expression perfectly aboriginalish, (that-is to say, savage,) and darted all-kinds of lightning at him through the dark- ness.. "Had I done so once," she said,"it would be better for me now, not that I look upon my degradation in any other light than that as you were the cause of it, to you I look for ultimate redress, and I will have it." "Pshaw," muttered Clinton, "no romance now, it's no time for it." "I was only fifteen," continued she, "when you carried me off from home. Well, I loved you, and that was 'my excuse. You took me to a strange city, vherp you said I should realize all my childhood's joyous dreams, but by the time the second Week had passed, all-'I realized was your abuse, and when the third week ended, you disappeared, no one could tell whither. For another week I watched and wept, thinking some misfortune had happened to you, but at last my eyes were opened to' the truth, and then, having no means--well, I need not mince the matter-I was oblig- ed to become criminal again, or perish in the street." "Oh, curse your reminiscences," grumbled the prisoner, "I have something else to think of now: "A year passed away," continued Caroline, without. appearing to notice what he said, "and I went to New York, where I met you again. You were pleased to see me, because I could now be useful to you, and fool-like, I was pleased to see you. Well, every day you plunged,,ie deeper into the abyss of crime, and I went blindly on, for I loved you still most fondly; and so, soul as well as body, I became yours. At length the police made a descent upon the gang you were connected with; surprising them at work with the bad nioney all about them, and' among themall, bat you and Bill escaped. We nianage&-you and I-kto maintain an appearance of respectability, and so kept 'off suspicion. But your funds soon be- came low, and then, then came the crime- CARQLDTN i t a A+ .1' u7 i r yl c y7 I page: 34-35[View Page 34-35] 84' TIMOTHYTUG(1 MUTTON. "Hush, fooW"hissed Clinton, "need, yourepeat tha too?", "You madame act as a decoy; the girl went on, "and although. from my heart I loathed the office, Iyet.obeyed;,so blind was I in, my 11ve for you. -The- sum you{hoped to realize was a large one,, sufficient to maintain _us, as you said, comfortably together in an- other land, and that prospect dazzled me. :I enticed him to a lone-, ly spot near the river--if I lived a thousand years, that awful deed would come back to me in my dreams at last--you fell upon him there, and before my very eyes, nuir "Curse your tongue," interrupted the villain savagely ; "would it were palsied." The girl felt her passioiiate blood mounting up quickly, but out- wardly she betrayed,not the least emotion. "The deed accomplished," she continued, "you told me that it was better thatyou left awhile, until the excitement had blown over, and-to remain myself, in order that suspicion might not rest upon your head. I acquiesced readily,.and lived scantily and spar- ingly, but honestly on the little you had left me for a year. Still you did not return, and I soon became utterly destitute. I obtained needle-work, but I was abused for what they called my awkward- ness, and turned-away, - Again and again, but without success, I endeavored to, procure employment,, and it was all for your sake, for I hoped that whetm you heard how true I had been to you, you would have sufficient love for me -at least ,to keep me near you. 'But it' was all' in vainj and I was;at length compelled to fall into vice again or starve. Be patient ,a little longer. ..It won't take me as long' to tell the-storyJas it took you to make me .what I am. For three years I neithersaw- or heard oftyou. At last,(it was just one week ago,) chancebroughtrme-'here, and I met you that same night in the str-eet. Of course; I was overjoyed, but you cursed and struck me down, swearing that if- I but noticed you, thereafter, I should rot;within prison walls..'Heavens,! that-from You ! That instant my-whole nature chunged.::I.swore; silently then and there, that I'd have:revenge---that I wbuld live for it.--die for it !" "Fool!" exclaimed the ruffian, "'what-would preventamy silenc- ing you nowP" ;j' +S 10 !fB t; L ;i r Y .S ,z ;a L Vr F t, Z, y"iWe S, yY The girl smiled in'her'strange way, and said, 'Try it! I, too, armed.o But hear mie out. Imet-a friend, and learned that on the strength of 'forged letters of credit and introduction, purporting to be from large foreign houses, you were cutting quite a figure here, and had readily obtained entree to the best society. This made me think it would not be long before my services might be useful; and I was right in my conjecture, for that next night you'sought me out, and after promising me never more to leave me, proposed to me to'enter Mrs. Merton's service, as.her maid. You even told me your plans, particularly those regarding my own welfare, but I was not deceived. However, I consented to do as you desired, but I never, for a moment, had the least intent that you should bo sitcoessfnl. 'No, heaven forbid l I wished to see you near your full triumph, and, then to dash you, without a moment's warning, from the pinnacle of joy down to the darkest depths of misery. It was through me you became a prisoner, and it shall be through me, as state's evidence, that you will be condemned I" 'The villain was appalled. "You will become State's Evidence, in fact?" he asked in a husky threatening tone. "Yes-and will pursue you to the gallows!" But in a second-before those outside knew aught of what was going on-he dashed open the carriage door, and, with one foot upon the step, he leveled a pistol towards the corner where she sat, and fired. The ball struck her, but collecting all her strength for a last effort, with a fierce cry, she sprang for the door and grasped him ere he could lea'ethe-steps.=The horses terrified by the sudden din, plunged so furiously, that the three officers as well for the safety of their own persons as for the re-capture of the prisoner, jumped hastily off and left Bill at liberty; a fact which he was not slow to notice, for he gave his panting horses the lash and soon left the constables far behind him. And in this mad way he dashed along (for he had 'been-a prisoner too) until it became'quite evident that unless the horsds had some rest, they woulddrop u pon the road ; so he reined them in. The darkness was now more 'intense than ever, 'for' it wanted but a few moments of dawn. 'Suddenly a faint, stnothered cry broke upon .1 85, iAOLiT. i page: 36-37[View Page 36-37] 1 z r R4 a r 37 PUNISHMENT. TIMOTHY TUGG MUTTON. Bill's ear--the My of an infant--very evidently quite near him. Bill descended .from his seat, and after groping about awhile, found, lying comfortably wrapped up, beneath a seat, poor Isabel's child ! A potent sleeping draught which Caroline had administer..- ed, had kept it quiet all this time, and amid the many horrors of the:night, the poor, infant had beenforgotten. Bill tookit up in his arms, and muttering something about a "kind of property he wouldn't have no use for," he carried it to the road-side, laid it down upon the grass, then jumped upon his box again, and drove slowly on.. But no one pursued him-he was free as air ! t Meanwhile, the constables were having a comfortable time of it. The prisoner made no effort to escape after the carriage dashed away, for the sudden bound which Caroline had made upon him, causedhis foot to slip and falling partially beneath the vehicle, the wheels passed over his right leg and crushed-it dreadfully. And Caroline-fell out into the centre of the road, where she was now lying, bleeding profusely from a ghastly wound in her bosom, un. conscious and sinking rapidly. CHAPTER THE NINTH. PUNISHMENTT. The constables ascertained these facts upon lighting a small dark lantern, and it was very clear that they. were not a little puzzled how to act,,which was natural enough under the. circumstances. "What's, to be done, Dinghy ?" asked oneof the deputies of his superior, "Well," answered.Dingby, "the long ida ieshort of the mat- ter is, that it's a mighty bad business and no mistake ." And the deputies One and Two silently concurred. "There's no chance of finding assistance either," observed Num- ber One, "before daylight." ''Have either of you any lint about you?" asked Dingby. "I hava little," answered Number Two. "Well, then," said Dingby, "I'll do what I can for.the girl first, for the long and the short of the matter is this : she'll die in ten minutes, if this bleeding ain't stopped ; though for that matter," he continued in a gloomier tone, "I'm afraid it's too late now." However, Dingby gave his handkerchief to*one of the others; to be converted into bandages, and as he raised Caroline slightly from the ground,she uttered a low~moan which told of such fearful agony, that it was sickening to hear. But in a few minutes the impromptu surgeon contrived to stop the flow of blood and to dress the wound, in a rude way, after which, he gave it as his opinion that she would last till day-light, anyway-if she was lucky ! And meanwhile, the villain, Clinton, remained prostrate where he had at first fallen, and the tortures he experienced were terri- bly acute. But he was comparatively unnoticed, for the officers knew that his hurts--.though of a shocking nature, precluding his making any effort to escape-.were yet by no means dangerous. So they cen- tered all their cares. upon the more deserving, but still insensible and apparently rapidly declining girl. His inglorious defeat and the almost certain prospect of an igno- minious death weighed heavily upon Clinton's mind. Now, that by an accursed chance, he had failed in the effort to escape, if Caro- line's wound should turn out mortal, so great would be the combi- nation of crimes against him, that he felt there was not a judge and jury in the land but would condemn him.' If she survived it, she would still be the instrument of his destruction, for the evi- dence she could give, familiar as she was with his, whole career, would be equally as damning. Oh, the agony of mind this harden- ed villain suffered, as these thoughts crashed through his brain. He would have changed conditions with sthe most abject wretch living or dead, that ever in freedom breathed God's air. And as 3 F r ft j t , t 4 t 2 k i y# 3 I. f t b" v LI i k i s. PEA A f 't4' }; Z} r3r F } i+ £ i y i s A page: 38-39[View Page 38-39] 0 8 TIMO4QrHY ' .TUGG MUTTON. i r f{ ig , rf 11; F 3 LSQQqq 1 r4 u 1urIsmrMT. '89 he lay there in the darkness, visions of the kind:parents his vi- cious conduct sent broken-hearted to the tomb, seemed to him to be flitting somewhere near him, although he could not. see them, and he felt thatthey would keep ever near, whether with good or bad intent, until his own dark race was ended. ,And then he fan- cied heiaw the black clouds draw from the horizon, and a faint light overspread its which rolled on towards hini. getting brighter as it came, until it seemed one sheet of living flame Andysuddenly, with aloud report, the flames burstopen and disclosed-the bleeding phantoms of Caroline and his Jirst victims which quickly changed to two' colosean figures that pointedat and threatened himd, And, then: he felt a ponderous hand upon his throat, hot, red-hot, apparently, and he attempted to'spring up a'nd shake it off, but the crushed condition of his leg rendered the ef- fort vain, and with a wild !howl of pain and terror he. fell back again upon the road, At length, to the great joy of Dingby and his subordinates, the day began to break. We shall not attempt to describe the style .rof its breaking, (having due regard for the patience of our readers.,) but shall content ourselves with the sihnple assertion that to the great' joy of Dingby and his associates, the day began to break. And the worthy Dingby snuffed the fresh-breeze of;the morning' with a sense of satisfaction particularly lively, and with decided emphasis, he expressed it as 'his solemn conviction, that, "the long and the short of the matter was that he had' never passed a more uncomfortable night'in all his born,days." And the deputies, each making Dinghy's words applicable 'to his own particular. case, co- incided with him unanimously. ' Day having broken, all, that was necessary was to disover some house in-which the sufferers could have temporpry.refuge and have medical aid ,secured them, and in a turn of .the road, and close at hand, such a refuge was discovered by -one of the men- which one, the author was never able to learn.. And the people of the house did everything in their power to alleviate the.condition of the wounded, (not' the less readily for being made acquainted who they were), ajnd also contributed not, a little towards the al- leviation--(by virtue of some good Monongahela) of the condition of the unirjured parties. A deal of delay occurred before a physician arrived, which caused Dingby to swear considerably and to make innumerable al- lusions to the -long and the short of the matter. But he did arrive finally, andhe soon put the Commander-in-Chief of. the guards in a good humor again, by asserting that with care and attention the young woman would undoubtedly recover. -For Dingby concerned himself very little about Clinton's state, inasmuch as he (Dingby) 'had settled it all up in his own mind, that as he (Clinton) was bound to be hung at any rate, it was merely necessary to patch him up sufficiently to keep life in him till such time as the law saw fit to make him undergo the hanging operation. Dingby's de- light, however, was of short duration, for upon his casually remark- ing that by the -following day he would have a comfortable con- veyance ready to go forward with his charges, .the physician sur- prised him with 'the information that it would be certain death to the girl, and a serious impediment t the man's recovery, were either to be removed within two weeks. From this decision he could not appeal, so he called numbers One and Two into council and expressed to them that he had come to the conclusion, "as they couldn't go away, why, he supposed-they'd have to stop, and that was the long and'the short of the matter." * * And Isabel-poor Isabel! The alluring joy-sweets in the conservatory of life had no longer charms for her, but were tasteless and bitter all. ''And the opening buds of Expectation, the bright flowers of Hope and the white rose of Peace, touched by the cold blast of misery, had drooped sadly down and died. The bright- ness had gone out from her eyes, the splendors of her career had faded for all time, and she was like a beautiful star falling from the lirmament,'and lost in the immensity of space. Did she regret her husband? YEs! 'For now that the last and fa- tal blow to her vanity and pride was given, the worldliness of her nature passed away, and allthat was 'good and noble in it rose once more 'to the surface. Her husband she regretted as one would re- gret a good man-a former 'friend,:whom we had greatly wronged page: 40-41[View Page 40-41] 4+V TIMOTHY'TUGG'MUTTON. spasing tohis eteinalt home, before we could make just reparation, and obtain forgiveness. Oh, she would have:parted with;a score ofiher allotted yearscould he have been alive once more, ntil she had confessed her intended crime and earned his pardon. And then her child ! There the poisoned barb struck deeply, for she did love her child ferventlf-gnd-todlose it at suc a time, and in such a manner-the thought. was naddening. She wept incessantly and would not be consoled. Parties were sent; out to search, and the findei of the little'one was promised 'an:unlimited reward. But as day after day passed away, without tidi gs teing brought, the mnis- erable mother fancied it was dead-murdered, perhaps--and left unburied in some lonely spot, where -her-messengers could never find it. And thisthought drove her almost frantic, and she refus ed all sustenance, until nature's cravings forced her to partake of food. Somethnes she would pray to be allowed to die, so that she might rejoin her husband and her little one in that bright realm where sorrow is never known;;but the,(moral sins she had commit- ted.on this earth,it, was idecreed;f should first be obliterated by years of tearfdl petnifnce, The guilty step she contemplated taking was never noised about. it was said, only, that on that fatal eight, , she had been at a friend's, 'and returning late, she.met the men viho bore her husband's body, at the door, and at the sAie moment her-maid and child had disap- peared. People spoke carele sly of+the shock it must have .given her, and speculated as to the titue she would remain a widow--it was the topic o a day, and was:then 'forgotten. But she would seeno.one. 1Tot one of' the fawning -herd of mam mon worshippei-s who-daily called td enquire if her health im- proved and if she would soonrejoin the world. She knew but one friend, the good uncle-who cared for her after her. parents' death, and who, when in despite his teachings, she launched forth in the tide of. fashionable 4issipation, became estranged from her and spoke to her no:more. But now that she was in affliction and in need of.a truefriend, h:eame nobly:forward.and told her that he had been as a father to her, in her childhood, when.she knew no care or sorrow, and flow that theanguish of an early and double PUNISHMENT. 41 I I t f$ a . Y 0 S* l ' i y 3 f 'e rY -Z I e ^f i 5 widowhood was upon her, he would be an adviser, friend and fa- ther to her while she lived. And Isabel's eyes filled anew with tears, and silently she took his hand and bent down over it and kiss- ed it gratefully. * * Mr. Dingby's extraordinary exertions for the benefit of the public morals, were destimed to receive a merited reward- by which we mean that he finally arrived safely in New York with his still helpless charges, and pocketed the good round sum that had been offered for Clinton's capture. The ruffian, after a hearing, was lodged in jail, to take his trial during the approaching term of the Criminal Court, but Caroline was nolongerian object of his fears. , Miserable girl! the excite- inent she had undergone-amounting almost, to frenzy,-added to the agony her wound created, found no re-action .with returning health. The light of reason had faded from her eyes, her mind was a complete blank, so from the prison hospital they conveyed her to the Asylum for the Insane, and left her there. A month afterwards a city paper contained the following item: "The notorious scoundrel Edmund Clinton, alias John Brently, received sentence yesterday. Owing to the lunacy of the unfor- tunate girl, Caroline Moore, one of his. victims, the charge of the murder of Mr. Simands, three years ago, could not be sustained, as she was the only winess. Theproofs against him, however, on the charges of forgery, counterfeiting and, obtaining money under false pretences, weresufficiently strong to warrant Judge Ward in sentencing him to hard labor in the Sing Sing Penitentiary for the term of ten years and six months." It was but a short time before this, reader, that the infantile Mutton was found close by John Perkins' garden gate.' With the modest hope that this fact ,.will be duly understood in all respects, we beg permission to take Mutton by the hand once more, and get him into 'every possible-di iculty, 'in 'such cases and under such circumstances, allowable, page: 42-43[View Page 42-43] TIMOTHy TUGG MUTTON. THE HOMELESS ORPHAN. CHAPTER: THE TENTH. THEf' HOMELESS ORPHAN. Beneath a.tree by a' road-side sat poor Tim, Looking weary and sadr for twilight had spread around and he was without , shelter ora home. All day long he had wandered on, now running fast, when.he came'"to a straight road, for fear he might be seen and overtaken, and forced back again to be beaten by the woman who said his mother had god right'to leave him:at John Perkins' gar- den gate; now pausng in"sonIe unfrequented spot' to brush away atear, Ahd he wondered whether any other bof had run away before ashey had Adorieand if' so, whether 'it was ona wonan's ac-' count--a woman that ill-treated him and whh etl hat woman Lo~ked im-a w n 1erithat woman looked much like Mrs Nancy, or could talk as much. And at this hewould feel somewhat startled, and would look around him fear- fully as though he' expected Ito find a Mrs. Naiy standing near him, stickein hand, ut;seeing no ope he would'become re-assured again, and ivlk on further. :And after such' small alarms, Tim imagined that he ought: to feel very happy, now that he was his own master and could go just where he pleased and have no one to interfere with him, but-there was only one'slight-drawback in the , thing, which was that.in-spite ofthis enjoying the largest liberty, a little substantial;,food'was. absolutely necessary ,for the promotion of h personal comforts.' Under all the{'circumstances, .however, Tim thought a reblIous stomach, that had a propensity to pro- voke eternal commotions and serious disaffedtionsi should be'ri- gorously governed until such dime' as he might alleviate its dis- tresses:withoutjeopardising the entire body corporate. This severe system Tim adhered to throughout the day, not even allowing himselfto g o near a farmhouse or a tod-side inn to ask for acip of, water, lest his, newly-ac qiied liilerty should become endangered, and he be again obliged to submit to the yoke of des- potism. But when the sun went down, and strong symptoms of an approaching suspensidn of daylight were Manifest, Tim sat down beneath a tree upon the road-side, feeling very weary and sad. And then it suddenly occurred to -him that a grove of trees close by, might be an orchard, that an orchard at this season con- tained fruit, that fruit was palatable, and that anything that was palatably would do te make a meal of. So he hastened with in- creased appetite to the grove of promise, and, mouting a tree that seemed peculiarly inviting, began first to till his interior youth, and next his hat. And then he suddenly labored under the conviction that some body had a better right and title to this orchard than he had, and that this somebody might, should he catch him, not only object to his proceedings, but lay violent hands upon him. So Tim prepared to descend at once, and the purloined fruit, catching, doubtless, the same spirit (tho' probably through a spirit of emiu- lation), took the opportunity of tilting over our hero's hat and des- cending considerably in advance of him. "Aha I" said somebody beneath, "stealing apples, eh? Come down here till I whip you." But, generous as this invitation was, Tim actually hesitated to accept it ! "Come now," resumed the obliging individual, be in a hurry, will you, for I'm going to supper, and can't wait." "Please sir," said Tim in a deprecating tone, "I haven't eaten many, and you may have the others, if you'll be so good as to pick 'em up, and if you'll just let me go this once, I'll never do it again, indeed I won't. Please sir, I was so hungry I couldn't help it." "'Why didn't you go home then," asked the man, "and get some- thing to eat?" "Because I hadn't any home to go to, sir," answered Tim. "At least, sir, I had one once, but I-please, sir, don't be angry at me." "Well, conie down till I see you," said the man. "Don't, be afraid I'll eat you, for I won't, you may be sure " "But you'll beat me," whimpered Tim. "Please don't beat me -she did that, and I couldn't stand it,:;so-" "O"hl' ejaculated the man," you've run away, have you? Aha l Well, I won't hurt you. Come down now, or I set the dog at you," Terrific ideal Our hero didn't pause to argue as to-whether the dog in question could climb trees or not, (being quite uncertain as 4 42- '3 x s page: 44-45[View Page 44-45] 44 .TIMOTHY TUGG MUTTON. THE HOMELESS ORPHAN'. 45 to the°calibre, of dogs existing beyond the immediate vicinity of Blinkville,) sQ he caine down quickly. The man looked at him, as Tim thought,very suspiciously, though as it was getting rather dark, Tim might have been mistaken, What might your name be?" askedthe man. "Why, sir," answered our youth, "the boys at old Scribbleses school called me Scragg of Mutton; but I whipped some of them .for it; and then they didn't do it any more, because they knew Charley and me would let 7emn have it, for it wasn't my name, nor Charley's neither. And although this reply was exceedingly lucid, considering that the man merely.asked what his name might be, yet that individual, instead of being satisfied, actually put the question the second' time, which caused Tim to feel a horrible suspicion that he was a, a spy of Mrs. Nancy's, and that'his object was to entrap and take him back.--But he told him his name at last, and then the man (so Tim thought) pretended he didn't believe him, saying that he couldn't be made a fool of that way, by a boy, and that he'd find out and so forth.Arid the man furthermore told him to come along to the house, and that, if he was honest, he- would give him a good home in place of the one he left, and more to the same purpose. But Ting was now 'norally certain that the questioner was a spy of'Mrs. Nancy's, and that he only wanted to get him n the house in order that he might; be more sure of him. So as soon as the man started towards the house spoken of, our hero slipped by him and rah in. the opposite direction, as fast as his legs could carry him.--Little did heheed, the supposed spy's cries of "stop," "hold on," etc., He had no idea of being taken back to' Blinkville, and after getting a beating himself, hear John Perkins abused because he dared to take the.lpart of his protege. No ! Tim had a small bo-' dy, but it contained a very large sized heart, so he preferred de- clining an invitation that might have such -disagreeable results. Aid he ranon rapidly, thinking he was followed-occasionally falling upon.the uneven ground, and at such times fairly screaming withafright lesthis imaginary pursuer should overtake him ere he could rise, until'at last feeling too much exhausted to run further, he took a stand, resolved to perish or retain his freedom. The moon was shining brightly ; all was quiet, and not a living creature was to be seen. Then Tim took hearty and 'walked on slowly till he came to a field of new-made hay, the Very scent of which made him feel sleepy, So he scraped a lot. of the hay to- gether to form a bed,-and gathered some more to serve for cover- ing, and then. laid down, and endeavored to feeLbrave enough to sleep. A tree stood by the road side--a great melancholy old tree--that had taken root, doubtless, centuries before : in times when the white man's foot had not yet pressed the soil, when it was unex- plored, and totally unknown, except to the Great Spirit and his red children.-Many years after, when the pale face left his home over the deep waters, and was encroaching more and more upon the red man's hunting ground, a legend took date beneath this same old tree-a legend of ayoung girl who fell ,in love with a young cap- tive of her tribe, and liberated him.-And she fled with him to the white settlements, deserting her own people for their enemies; and the warriors of her tribe were incensed against her, and pur'sued them, thirsting for revenge. And it was, beneath this tree they overtook them.in the night, when the young pale face was sleeping, and the maiden was watching over him---both unconscious of their danger., And- the fierce warriors seized their young enemy and bound him to a tree, and would have murdered hin betord her eyes, had she not' sprung between, and received the fatal shift in her own loving bosom. And there they laid her in the earth, bnt he was reserved for torture unto death in the presence of all the warriors and women of the tribe. The tree was vigorous in those days, lofty and green, and for a centuryimore it shaded the maiden's grave, but now it was leafless and -decayed, and Stood there like an ancient patriarch that had outlived the associates of youth and all his kindred.--And when Tim looked;'upon this tree, and;heard the night winds mnoaniiig through it's branches; he imagined it 'looked like a hired phantom, with an hundred arms, and covered"uphis head through fear. Yet page: 46-47[View Page 46-47] 46 TIMOTHY T*UGG MUTTON. ithad a kind of fascination for him, he knew not why, with its bare, cheerless look, andthe sad mournful voice the .winds had lent it, so he looked at it again and fancied that the Voice among= the branches became gradually more sorrowful and plaintive, and he' finally became infected by it, and felt desolate and sick at heart. But he was very weary, and soon, in spite of the' fascination of the old tree arid the Voice among its branches, he fell fast asleep, and it was not until next morning, that some one shaking him with great energy, and speaking in tones he thought he knew, caused him to awake. CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH. ThE CAVESE. "Come,, ain't you going to wake up to-day?" queried grouh- looking young man, dressed in a pepper-and-salt suit, with a wag- oner's' frock over it, as he gave Tim another shaking, "come now, get up." It was the same individual who, on the previous even- ing, so strongly urged upon our. hero the necessity of getting down." And Tim opened his eyes with considerable surprise at finding himself lying in a hay field, by a road-side, a wagon and team standing near, and a strange man bending' over him; and for a moment, he had a very indistinct perception of where he was, or of what had happened. However, upon his being again addressed by the rough-looking young man, in the pepper-and-salt .suit and wagoner's frock, he suddenly recollected his danger, and 'would have run away again had not his persecutor laid firm hold of him. "Why, what's the matter with the;youngster ?" exclaimed the Wagoner. "I never see such capers cut afore in all my dagse You hain't been stealin' nothin' have you?" TILE CAPTIVES. 47 "Oh, no, sir, indeed I haven't," cried Tim, "only the apples, and I was so hungry, because I'd 'nothing to 'eat all day.-But please don't make me go back gain " "Where do you live ??' asked the man-}-""wvith your father and mother'?" "Oh, sir," answered Tim, with an involuntary sob, "I have no father or mother, and no friends except John Perkins, who was raising ie ; but Nancy used to want him to send'me .off, for she didn't seem to like me, so at last- I ran away that there might be quiet." "ou're sure y ou're tellingme thetruth?" asked the man more kindly. "Indeed I am, si, replied Tim, "for John Perkins scolded me once, when I told him a story, and made me feel ashamed of it, and I promised him I would never be so bad again, and I loved him, so I couldn't do it now, sir, indeed I-couldn't. "I believe you," said'the Wagoner. And he went on to tell Tim that he was going to New York with his wagon to purchase goods for a store.on the farm owned by his father (whose orchard Tim had been rifling,) that he would take Tim along if he wished to go, and if they got along properly together on the trip, he would keep him with him oiW the farm after they came back;, to which our hero joyfully replied, (he had given up the. spy idea by this time) .that he couldn't possibly ask anything better, unless it was something to eat. Upon which the young man smiled and told Tim to ju1pp into the wagon, and take some cold meat and bread and cheese he would find there, and to eat away as much as -he pleased. He then proceeded to start his team, and after a good deal of whip-cracking and geeing and hawing, got them fairly moving on their way. But we will not trouble our readers with a detailed account of their stoping an hour after at a miller's, emptying the wagon there of the sacks it had contained, or of the Wagoner's receiving a sum of money in exchange, as these facts are comparatively of little im- port. We need merely say, that towards evening on. the second day they were overtaken by two men on horseback, 'who imine- diately entered into conversation with Tim's friend, the Wagoner. page: 48-49[View Page 48-49] 48- TIMOTHVYIXTUGG MUTTON. T ,E CACTIVJSo'-- y49 'They were both tolerably well dressed,,and one of them had an air of-good breeding, but the expression of his countenance was- of a decidedly disagreeable character. The. anau with an air of good breeding was tall- and wellbuilt, his features were regular and would have been handsome, had it not been for the settled scowl which markedthmi. His eyes were large, dark and piercing, but at times werealmost concealed by the heavy brows. His forehead was expansive but -deeply wrinkled, and an ugly scowl upon his, right'tenple,"by no means -added to his appearance. His com- plexion was pale almost to ghastliness, and this effect was height-, eied by his long black hair, and heavy moustache.of the. same color. His age may have been 45. His companion was eight or ten years vounger, but his appearance was still moreunprepossessing.-His features were' coarse and-vulgar, his eyes grey and, very small, his nose crooked, his forehead low and narrow, his face red and bloat- ed, and his hair seemed to partake of the sane chajacteristics,. par- ticularly of the decided:redness. ,In stature he was considerably shorter than the first, but he was evidently his equal in physical, strength.J 'Pleasant weather we have had lately,"-said horseman the first addressing Tim's friend, the Wagoner, And the Wagoner answered "Yes," very shortly, for he didn't like the looks of leis questioner. "Favorable for your business," continued the stranger. You are on your way to the:city, I presume ?" "Yes,"-answered the:Wagoner. "Going to purcha 'goods, I suppose;.' see your wagon is emp- ty," and horseman 'the first exchanged a look with horseman the second, and then continued. I hope you'll- not he offended at my curiosity, for the tact is, I have been so long absent from this part of the country that Inaturally make more enquiries=than, perhaps, courtesy would sanction. But twelve years residence in that is to say Mong'the Nor-Wester Injins" prompted horseman the-second, speaking for the first time. "Eaoily," aid the first. 1 ' naturally hesitated at.meindoutoing the locality, inasmuch 'as we never saw the face of a white man; and for years were unaware of the latitude and longitude in which we were, being obliged to remain altogether among a wandering horde of savages." "Savages!" echoed the Wagoner; with some interest, "them's 'injun' s of course?" ."In course," said the red-headed individual, "Nor Westers, reg'lar five digiters, ken-crackers and ely fakers.'" "My friend here," observed the tall man, "will occasionally in- terlard his discourse with scraps of' Indian dialect, forgetting that in civilized communities, that language is quite unknown," and the speaker gave his friend a peculiar look, "Of course, it is quite natural, when we'take into-consideration the fact of his hav- ing mingled a great deal with the savages. ,Doubtless I should have become addicted to similar habits, had I not, during the whole term of my captivity, remembered that some day I might be en- abled to return to society, and therefore avoided all communication with those around me." "And you couldn't get away ?" asked the Wagoner, becoming greatly interested. "It was out of question, my dear sir," replied ' the- tall man. "We were closely guarded night and day, compelled to perform the most degrading offices, but had we attempted to escape, we should'inevitably have been restaken, and of course treated more rigorously than ever." We should have been subjected to-t--to-" "Darbies and stretchers," suggested the person with the illum- inated cranium, thinking his friend at a loss for words. "My dear Richard," exclaimed the tall man "shall I never be able to break you' of that odious habit of quoting the aboriginal *'-nmue upon all occasions ? Are you not -awwe tlhtmyour uaning may be misinterpreted, and your standing in society endangered by it ? 'I beg that you will bear this in mind'hereafter and never indulge this propensity even when we are alotie in order that you may sooner forget our late' misfortune, and particularly that you may more effectually guard against its recurrence. As I was re- marking," continued the tall iman, turning to the Wagoner, "our page: 50-51[View Page 50-51] s0 situation was critical in the extreme,tand nothing but the. hope of regaining our liberty at some future day couhl have enabled us to bear up against it.-And then our food.! You would scarcely be- lieve, my dear sir, that it consisted solely of-" Tead and water,'? muttered the short gentleman. "True," exclaimed the narrator, quickly, "Indian corn bread and water-nothing else." "You must have had lotspf adventures," thoughtfully observed the Wagoner. "Quite a history," asserted the tall man ; "indeed, I may say that we had an entire circulating library of them, and I should be delighted to recount some of the ,principal incidents, had I time to do soj but as it is growing dark, and as we design stopping for to- night at a tavern, a mile or so further on, we must now leave you.' "I reckon I shall;put up there, too," said the wagoner, "for al- though it can't be much further:to, town " "Eight miles, if I remember rightly," nterrupted the tall man. "Yes, about that, I believe," asserted the Wagoner-"still I don't trust traveling after dark with money about me." "And you are quite right," said the tall man approvingly, "but adieu for the present, and if you stop at the tavern in question, I shall be happy to renew our acquaintance. "Lord, how I should like to hear an Ingjn story,"' remarked the Wagoner to Tim. I'll get lnim to tell one, see if I don't. The late captives of the North Western Aborigines started on ahead, and the tallest turned to the shortest, and said, angrily--. "I tell you, Dick, either you must put some guard upon your tongue, or. we -must separate. If- you cannot refrain from slang when you converse, don't converse at all; or if it's necessary to do so, merely employ mnonosyllables." "Employ what ?'' queried Dick. "Monosyllables," replied his friend-"single syllables, expres- sing either the airinative or negative, without any additional re- arks. Do you understand?" " "No, Jack, curse me if I do,", answered the discoursive Richard, "for d'ye see, you've had the nateraleddicaion of a born big wig-' THE CAPTIVES. 51 "Dick!" exclaimed Jack in an admonitory tone, "there you go again." "Well, I mean gen'l'man, of course, where's the differ ?" ex- plained-Dick., "I say you've had the nateral eddication of a born big wig, whereas I- never lamed nothin' 'cept what I picked up among the Pinters. And so, as to readin' and writin' and all that gammon, why it's all~-it's all in my winkers, dy'e see?" F'I must say, Dick," remarked the tall man, "that I cannot trace the slightest expression of knowledge either in the organs you mention, or anywhere else within the limits of your person. I wish to impress upon your mind, if possible, that it would be expedient for you tomaintain perfect silence, whenever it is practicable, un- less you can answer merely negatively, or-" Dick interrupted: "Now it's no use, Jack, agoin' over that e're again, for I don't know no more what you mean than a kiddy." "Damn it, man," exclaimed Jack, impatiently, "are you a coin. plots fool?'"- "Now, that's English," said Dick, delighted, and I'm fly. Why don't you always talk that away, when you want ine to know your meaning ? It's well enough when you're in company, to come the swell cove "Dick," interrupted the other, "I tell you, once for all, that you must keep your flash for the Crib in Cross street, for if I hear any more of it, we part company.--Do-you understand that?" "I believe I do, Jack," answered the short-man, meekly, and I'll do my best, so don't get mad about it." "Well then," said the other, "if a man asks you a question, say either yes or no, as the case may be, but if you're not spoken to, don't open your mouth. -JV'ow, do you know what I mean "In course I do, Jack," replied Richard, "and curse me if I don't keep a trying' to as long as I swaller grub." "Very good," said Jack. "I'll do the thinking and talking for both of us, and do you be satisfied with operating, for there you are as handy a fellow as I want to meet with. You noticed that boy with the countryman, didn't you'?', "Yes," replied Dick, laconically. f .'I -TTOlq- r page: 52-53[View Page 52-53] NEW AND OLD ACQUINTANCES. 63 "You wonld know him again, would you lot?" Dick shook his head doubtfully. "WtlltDick," continued the tall man, "this boy bears a resem- blance to a mtan I once knew, amounting to identity. His only son was lost et avery early age, and is now supposed to be dead. At the father's death, the reversion of the property became .You understand me, don't you?" p "No!", replied Dick. "Well then," said the other, "I must have this boy, and should it become necessary, we must " Dick threw up his chin and drew his forefinger across his throat significantly. Jack smiled. "Dick," he said, "you'd be a perfect treasure if you'd only give up talking." And in this way they conversed upon Jack's plan (or rather Jack did, for Dick confined himself to monosyllables) until they halted at a large country inn which stood behind a large sign, upon which was painted' a remarkably large party-colored bear, together with an inscriptionsin singularly large letters, which was intended to convey the information to a traveling or rambling public, that here good entertainment for man and horse would be provided.- A handsome barouche, containing two ladies, an elderly gentle- man and a cachman, 'and drawn by a pair of bea:ttiful bays, was ubout starting off as our late Captives came up. The landlord was standing by, obsequiously bowing adieux and expressing his hope that they would enjoy their ride and get home safely. To which one of the ladies, in, a very riehnielodious tone, (which caused the tall traveler to'statt with surprise) replied that she hoped so in- deed, and away they went. The keeper of-'the party-colored bear looked after them admir- ingly. "There goes two of the most handsomest women I ever saw," saidhe, "andfor 'kindness of heart and liberality, there ain't another in the country that can beat Mrs. Merton."- "Mrs: Merton!" exclaimed the tall man, "Mrs: Isabel Merton --is'she oe fofthose ladies!" "Certainly," replied the landlord quickly, "do- you happen 'to know her ?" "Yes-no--that is, knew.her formerly," replied the tall man; "does she reside in this neighborhood now?" "At the large house on the hill, about three miles by the road from here," answered the landlord. "She spends the most of her time there-but come in, sir,,come .in." "I thank you, landlord," replied Jack, "but as my friend and I have been all day on horseback and feel rather :cramped and stiff, we will take a 'short walk first. The moon shines brightly, and it will be pleasantf-Meanwhile prepare us a good supper, and let our horses be taken care of.. Come, Dick," he added in an under- tone to his friend, "follow ine." Jack struck into the scattering wood opposite the inn, and Dick followed him after the manner of a dog when whistled for by his master. "We can head them off .a mile below here," whigpered Jack, "by cutting thro the felds Come on, come on, there will be plenty of work to do to-night." 4 CHAPTER ThE TWELFTH. NEW Alto oLb AC UAINTANCES, The evening was beautifully bright, thanks to the moot, and the trio in the barouche must have enjoyed it hugely,' Isabel Merton at -twenty-eight was evenmore 'lonely than when we first'saw her. ,Sorrow had mellowed.the expression of a eoun- tenane that'ss -befo',too cold, 'and supercilious' and her beauty had become;ofthat re e'ond ;Madonanlike ordet that inspires the purest feel gsadniration aMsiillied by groerpsio Care, in. its chastening i hadindtorobbed it of a: single ohriny nor 4 TIMOTHY TUG MUTTON. page: 54-55[View Page 54-55] } N OTWM, CQU fIWTANCES. 54 ~gMO~r t a rG 11 T roi. left ofielin 6 do=tio 46ear ful'wa tke d(lal4tddndennhbied- elevated it-subdued iasiowri hd~eroylddfthilht,'hut Warmed her 'heart to' charity, 'loV for'hose dunah, aid good will towairdsevery breathing creatue'=A=.nd' who that=kiaveber did not love her ? Not with ihe nartif l'eeeing Whih'she haa'ins'pird' inher days of st ug g ad ngipetitibn'f sffhihnable sipremacy'but with an exalteddlo - a:laveimade aujdf 'hom age withoutidlatibnespeat idhout riiity, drete m without de'sire.- Andianow that the turmerl ofherrranroase afder fhad past, 'she livedifi}not 'with empa'ed t fesighedy, and never sighed for change, Offe's ahehi d'be Iid et men, Who inoher woidly nrded tires, she wodfd ,h :e t emedgas p1 zes'rarego bvon, men wht lo v:ed'herfar hi s 0ial Woe{h, but she would tell them that unless she loved she could not \ved gain, n4res'ectfiiyg, and WVitheut stentatianiddcl teid m Suchwa tsJabel rton now -apcrtr e ood inian feared to yp- proach, and bad men dared not; the first thrbuigh deead of a rns terpretation of the act, the latter through a knowledge of its hope- lessness, The second lady, reader, is Miss Egeria Wilton, the only daugh- ter of Isabel's good uncle, a merry, giddy, thoughtless thin, just turned of seventeen, As her name would indicate, she is a very tymPh-so graceful, so aeriel, that she' seemed quite out of place in that barouche ; she should have taken wings and hovered over it, She had the tiniest mouth,-and,-uch dewy coral Ups-lips that at one moment smiled so enchantingly that it seemed as if nothing in the world could be sweeter than thatyame smile--an instant after the smile would vanish and she would pout-pout in such a fashion thain luntarily the beholder would yeld' his first paoitionand express his willingness to register an alid ;it tharther-ips, when she poutdd vith them, e the most'inof peahlybetelihig lips, that ever mortal , ndther deepblue eyes, ever'dancing and oyou ; "hbrwskin s d te, o white, sodaat eh tiehat =very httle ;d g teeo v ality ben a4ty ld 6kitin lytfaed; her hand l4otstusemed: athongh albtd rdf p pr- ined fdwe ;the swaetes(lttlefot' thnt e l tehed the eaith that Heaven, greated-ah, 4he'wa a I-ovely creature, butaas !. a sad coquette. She coquetted with her birds,1her flowers, her mu- sic, discarding each ixm tgur for so thing else, and before long, casting aside that something else and returmg tg her music, flow- ers and brds again. The shady grove. which yesterday she was enraptured with,,to-day shewvould not enter; th'e music which she toiled a week upon until she leared it, she would then declare to be spiritless and dull, and take up some other" piece, The birds which one day charmed her with their warbling, on the next, she would insist were much torqnoisy ; and as for garry"'bless us he fared worse than all, altho ghhe loved her so devotedly, And she loved-him, too, but, concealed it very carefully from every one, and she led him such a miserable race whenever he came down into the country to visit her, that ncle Jacob (inas.- much as Harry was the only son of an old particular friend of his) was forced to take her to task about it occasionally. Upon which .Egeria would go off into a fit of pouting, and declare that it was really too bad that shecouldn't have her own way in any thing, and assert that she was very, very tired of living,ato say the least of it. And then Uncle Jacob would feel quite distressed and would kiss her fondly, and tell her -that he was going to town, and that if she wanted anything to let hin know it and.he would get it for her. Not that uncle Jacob had any;previous intention of going to town on that day, not by any 'neans; but it was a little cunning trick of his to restore the gopd humor of his spoiled darling-who could blame him for it,? . Then Egeria would be all smiles again, and mention: some trifle--a guitar string, or a new piano cover, or some drawing pencils- _ a being 411 that was requisite for her hap- piness. And then, without uare ado, Uncle Jacob would ride off to tpwn and make the purchases,.(which he could have sent a servant foroust as well) and after making the purchases he would idle away a couple 4of hours more before returning, so that his daughter nl t suppose 1he hadl business of hip own to attend to, and that he didn't go particulary ad:exclusivelyonheaccount k-- as ono might, p h nd And we ust do her the js- tiee to saythat had she known it she never would have przitted page: 56-57[View Page 56-57] Y56 s TIMOTLJY 'TIIGG' MUTTON~. him to move one step; not sle for sheloved him too well and hadk too much regard for hiscomfort for that. In truth, she was"an:innocent, gentle feature, whose;very faults were graces and she had' asigood heart at bottom as any one could wish."} Did -affictidn visit those she loved; she could be as devoted, as'self-serificing, as nobly disinterested, as watchful- and as eager tto assist" as the very best of us could' be. But she had never known the lightest care, ,nd she couldn't help being capri- cious in a harmless awfy-haw could she ? The third individual in the barouche was no 'less a personage than Uncle'Jacob. The snows of. fifty winters had neither left traces on his brow, nor chilled his heart, and there was Just as much benignity in his smile, and he felt as -pure delight in doing good, as though a care had never 'crossed him in his walk thro' life's' (to him) dark -valley. His first-born 'child had been stolen from hit as she.was budding into womanhood, and never could be found or heard of ; and his wife took it to heart so deeply that she pined slowly but surely away, and at last in giving birth to the se- cond girl, Egeria, like an expiring 'lamp, her spirit for a moment shed a bright ray around, and then went out. 'And oh, to him, how terrible was this second blow!-but he had duties to perform on earth and dared not bend beneath it. How-he performed those duties we can judge.' And next the affliction of his niece became his care, for he loved her' as a daughter, so he removed with her from a place so fraught'with tearful memories, and they- came to the sequestered spot where now they were residing. Uncle Ja- cob was not rich himself, but he had sufficient to give him an hum- ble independence, and that was all he asked for. There had been a fourth member of the party--not in the baroucner but prancing along on horseback by its side--this member was Harry Chester. Egeria, however, in one of 'her willful'moods, had commanded' him to ride home before them, acid to wait for' them at Ihe gate, and under pain of her seruas displeasure(ard 'possibly. banishment to"town)ot 'to show his face again-'tniil they 'should' arri e ther.And Harendeavored.to coax her into oiter- mahding this unpleasant order, butshe:ia s ltogtherineienable NEW AND OLD ACQUAINTANCES~. 57 and pitiless. So he galloped on ahead of them, and kept up a se- ries of confidential communications to every tree and fence he pas- sed, to the effect (for he was frightfully in love) that he was by far the most miserable dog that lived. And Egeria detained the others at the tavern,. (under pretext of requiring refreshments,) in order that Harry should get a fair start of them, though she afterwards felt that she wouldn't be at all angry if he should disobey her orders and wait for them a little way down the road. But he was nowhere in sight, and the wayward girl became as much annoyed through .her own order as Harry was. And then she thought he might, perhaps, ride on to town, or be attacked by somebody, or be thrown from his -horse and bad- ly hurt, or even killed, and so she became perfectly miserable. "But I don't care," she murmured impatiently "since he was so foolish as to mind me." "Who are you speaking of, Egy?" asked Uncle Jacob; and poor Egeria colored, to think how she had betrayed herself, and endea- vored to get up a careless-laugh to hide her confusion, but made a perfect failure of it. "Was it Harry?" continued the good old gen- tleman, with a quiet smile.-"Has your sin brought its own pun- ishment already? Oh, Egy, Egy !" "Now, pa, how can you tease me thus?' cried the spoiled beau- ty. "I'm sure it is enough to annoy me to think that he could be so regardless of my comfort-.-I mean our safety-as to leave us on a lonely road at night," but as Uncle Jacob only laughed at this argument, she ceased, and went to work with all her witchery and might, and had a quiet little pout of it. "Come, come, daughter,", said Uncle Jacob, affectionately, "why not make Harry happy by an acknowledgment of your love for him, for the idea of there being danger to apprehend on this road is only-" A loud scream from Egeria, and a faint cry from Isabel, caused Uncle Jacob to break off rather abruptly, and on looking around towards the coachman, he was not a little disconcerted at finding they were stopped in a very unceremonious way by ouir two ill- favored travelers, the. liberated' North-Western Captives. I page: 58-59[View Page 58-59] is' TP' ura ~ro& iW AX I~ ~QAitACS "Jtnip ift-ronifthei, Dick, " exuldined tho tall inan-"hofd onl pite t' the achinan's head; anther to'tlie old gentleiian's, and if they miake- an outry, or attemnpt-torise, blow out their brains." ' And Dienmiediately obey'edhe 'fir tpart of the order, and signified hy irsniotions,'that=he wag jintas 'ready to obey the lat- ter part ;shold provodationi be given.' And U1ncle Jacob' as so completely astounded at the boldness of the act that he was quite unable tn 'utter 'a sylahble. As'fon'thecoaohman, haring nothing of his ownat stake he sudrre ed aaat'deretin.F "You need be und'er'no ap pnehension, aged sir," continued the first ruflian, 'p'idvi4d you do not'resist,''and you must acknow. ledge that iander the force of ere unstaices"'such resistance would notonly 'he impolific but fatal inasniueh as my'worthy friend ind confederate will most assuredly put an end to} your earthly career on theiinstantrou dhe,1he 'Iig htestdeonstration.' Your per- ron, as well as that pretty young lady's shalbe held quite sacred I as ure you, for my business' iseliusively with 'Mrs. Merton." "With me?"'e claifned' Isbel'almost' fainting. "With you, rhadam," 'replied thl highwayman. "Youpossibly do not remember me, yet we have met before; It was under dif ferentrcumstaicev, to be sure, but you are still' a lovely woman and I as vigorous a'tian assI was then, so the devil s in it if a few unfortunate events-should-destroy those' feelings Which Were once our mutual solace' "1 (1 not',kundei'starid you,sir,!ga ped habel, and she crouched closer to Egeria, and Egeria.threw her white arms about her cou- sin, as. though'she thought the ruffiantwould not 'dare to touch her then tjatreu, ,ppt Isabel," said the highwayman, as he sprang into the vehicle, "that several thousand days of prison fare have not iroved y'lqo si but yur perception may be aided when I' re- move my wi andmustaoree 'A'o o O membe , " iitfon!" cried Isabe ,'with a loud shriek of terror, and she quickly tired away herryes,-asif the sight wa's hateful to her. e "Jack Brently at yourservice,'" returned the villain, "though you may call me ClIgen-ifyo like it better, for the nrme's of 1it- tIe consequence. Youjmrust. know I have been at.liberty l1 t, five days, and three'of these five . haye wasted in search of yo, which not only proves, that you were-the constant object of my thoughts, but that I still desire te make you mine.-My design is to take you with me, and if you come peaceably, it will be all the better for the girl here as well as your male companion." "Infernal scoundrel," roared Uncle Jacob, "I'll - But Dick grasped him by the throat, and hurled him back upon the seat and held him there, quite helpless and at his mercy. And the master villain threw off Egeria's arms, and despite her shrieks and Isabel's agonized cries for, mercy, he caught the latter in his embrace, and Was about to leap with her from the vehicle, when the clattering of hoofs was heard upon the road, and echoing among the hills as though a dozen horsemen were approaching. "Aw y,yDicko," ote Brently,'the chance is lost; Fly for your life" Ad the'two ruffians fled rapidly'through the woods,.not how. ever, until they had, exchanged a shot with the first (and only) horseman that appeared. The blooded horses attached to the ba- rouche, frightened at the firing, dashed rapidly ahead, and the stranger's, catching the alarm;from them,, wheeledabout and gal- loped after them. But in a 'few moments they relaxed.in) speed, and then the. party in the barouche noticed their deligerer'drop the bridle and apply his, hands convulsively to his breast:! An. distant after he reeled upon the saddle and :fell.heavily upon the road ; and when he returned to. coseiousness,' he was in the barouche, supported by Isabel and Uncle Jacob.. "I trust, sir, you are not; greatly:injured-'?" asked Isabel in faultering tones,:forshe was, deeply: moved, notionly atseeing the deadly pallor of his handsomer ; yet: eare-worn; featurbs-«.features that she had a dreamy recollection of, and which oi-gated a. strange feeling at her heart,. she knew .iat why--uAtlayhid saved het from a fate more terrible than death, and she thought a sister's love; a, sister's care,; wouldhie ,butpoor remieratin. And whei the stranger: heard-ier voice, he fixed hid -eyes 'in- 1ciW, -,- OLD.- ACQUAINTANCES. page: 60-61[View Page 60-61] 60 ritMoTmr.T1TtGMiUTTQrT. K THE 1 O 311 t. 6 quiringly upon herfape, and a ;terribleemotion shook his fram e, and hemunmured unintelligibly:-"Oh,'heaver must 1 endure fhiss too!"'and threw himself back into nee Jacob's'arms. And the moon' suddenly wap obscnlred by. b straggling deod, just as it was one fearful night in tiniest gone by. CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH. THE' ROBBERY. When Jack 'and Dick returned to the party-colored Bear, they found Tim and his friend, the Wagoner, seated in the public room and quietly discussimg a palatable supper. So Jack, wishing to cul- tivate the acquaintance of persons he looked 'upon with oonsider- able -interest, ordered his and Dick's supper to be brought into the' same apartment. "We;got here ahead of you after all," observed the Wagoner. "Not sa,'"'asserted Jack "'My friend and I, feeling cramped after our long ride, after putting up our horses, took {a walk through the wood-yonder, and finally we laid down to rest awhile, and without intending.it,'fell asleep." "I was all in a wonder where you'd got',to," observed the pro.. prietor of the Bear, "and if it hadn't:been that you 'left your horses, I should have'thought that-you'd 'followed Mrs. Merton." At which Jack-glanced at'Dick, and Dick interpreted the glance thus: "Do you see now why I preferred following them on foot ?" and Dick thought Jack a man of more cleverness and forethought then he had previously met with during his entire professional career., "Why," said .Jack,' "the fact' is, I was acquainted with M'rs. Merton's late husband, but she would scarcely recognize me now, for my appearance has been so changed for the worse, during my long captivity---" "Yes, among the Injuns," broke in the Wagoner. "The Sing tribe-Nor-westers-dye see,*pro npted Dick, for- getting his superior's injunction in regard to 'monosyllabique con- versation.,- "That in fact," continued.Jack, without heeding the interrup, tion, "inste d of following J should prefer avoiding her now.- Hardships and- suffering make sad havoc with a man's good looks." And Jack walked to the;other end of the room, as though these painful recollections wee too much for him to bear. "You've had a deal on them, 'then ?" enquired the landlord, (who was always on the look-out for information,) as he turned to Dick. "A reg'lar ken full," answered Dick, in a low tone, "just get him, a blown em, "Get him a blowin' 'em!" exclaimed 'the keeper of the Bear. "What's that? Don't believe I've got it in the house. May be you mean a b on sassage ?" "Whytaint no lush," replied Dick, surprised at the Proprietor's ignorance. "Get himto blow the fly--to peach- dy'e see ?" 3ut as the worthy host still seemed to be innocent of the knowledge of his meaning, Dick turned from him, and washed down his feelings of disgust with a glass of brandy. lack imagined that by this time his emotion had been palpable to the landlord and Wagoner, and he therefore threw a look of re- signation to fate' over his features, and returned to the table. And the Landlord and the Wagoner coincided in the opinion that he was a very ill-used man. "How long were you captivated among the Injuns ?" asked the Wagoner. "Forty-five hundred and sixty days," answered Jack with a me.- lodious sigh. "Whillikens !" exclaimed the host,---why that's a matter of-- let me see. 'It's 'hard on'to-- "In course it is," muttered Dick, "and more too." I 7 page: 62-63[View Page 62-63] ( , TIMOTHY TUGG MUTTON. "A ptter of ten years and a half," said the host. "Moreover,"observed Jack, feeling "digiste dat himself or tel-- lig an unintentional Iu ehwee in the samecointry 'for a long while before we were captured by the Indians." "Lord;sakes !" exclaimed theWagoner, "do telius -sonme, ofyour adventers."' "Yes, tell us some of your adventer," echoed the proprietor, "and I'll'stand' another bottle." "Never mind that," cried the Wagoner, "I'l 'stand it myself. Drive ahead."" "No, curse me if you do," exclaimed Dick, "for I mean to stand the lush indiwidually myself td Dick thought he might as well seem liberal while credit las for he hadn't the remotest idea of paying for anything and donht - less Jack had the same thought, as he also insisted upon making the next bottle his, own personalamatter. Opinions being, therefore, of a conflicting nature, 'Jack suggest- ed a compromise, and-the resultwas that four bottles were order- edinstead of o. The landlord, of the Bear. then proposed the health of the Sing Captives, and the Wagoner seconded the motion, but a difficulty 'here arose s to which bottle the Health should be drunk from. This time pick settled the matter by proposing to mix them altogether in a large bowl, and so, after a short debate, as to t l ohe proper of the thing, Jack's iadeira, Dick's bran dy, the d's sherry, and the Wagoner's Hollands were duly emptied into a large' bowl according to theproposition. The health of the Captives was now drunk, after which Jack discdaed upon the obvious propriety of drinking the Bear's health, and then , (o as becming oreand more forgetful of his promise,) D i k w o w ~ e o i g 1 o e a t atwa s a b lotl y e s a y declared in very choice language, that it was absolutely necessary to drink the Wagoner's ;also. Tmfell asleep upon one of the benches, and lay there without being thought of during the evening. Loud calls were now made by'the landlord and the Wgoner for a relation of the late North-Western Captives' adventures with the Sing tribe, and Jack (after proposing health 'all around again) de- clared his readiness to obey their wishes. THE ROBBERY. 63 "Well," said Jack, "Il started in opany'with my friend here, and about a dozen othei gentlemen, of the same profession as our- "What profession's that?" asked' the landlord. He was becom- ing decidedly oblivious, and consequently required information up- on' every point. -Counsel's Fee Dispensers,",replied Jack with dignity. "We started-." "Hold on," hiccoughed the Wagoner, "I neverr heard of 'em afore. What's the name,?-but it doesn't make any odds. Let's drink their healths anyhow." We must here remark as a singular fact, that although the Cap.. tivae had every appearance of being in, a shockingly intqxicated state, they were in reality not in the least affected , for they' had a queer way of waiting till the others raised their glasses to-their lips, and thep spilling the contents of their own upon'"the floor. But the perceptive faculties of the Proprietor, and Tim's friend, the Wagoner, were rapidly diminishing, for they became very so- ciable, and kept continually drinking each othei's health, and shak- ing each other's hands,, and,.in a confidential way, uttering dismal sounds which were intended for derisive peals of 'laughter at the North;westers' supposed inebriation. The adventures were lost sight of. "Gen'l'men," obsertred' the Wagoner, "let's try our h--hands at a--song-what dy'e say--hic!--eh?" Jack very readily expressed his willingness, so did Dick, but as the Bear experienced great difficulty incoming to any kind of a conclusion upon the question, the enthusiastic Wagoner took it into his head that a ballad entertainment 'was Uthanimously desired; so after an ineffectual attempt to clear his throat, he commenced a dolorous ditty about a time when he was a maiden of bashful six- teen, but unfortunately broke down in the middle of the second line. 'Hereupon the host took the floor with a chair under his right hand and another under his left, and sailed off upon a vocal cruise to the Bay of Biscay, but being in an unseaworthy condition, his mainbraees parted suddenly and 'he struck and keeled over, with a terrific crash. page: 64-65[View Page 64-65] 64 TIMOTHY* TUGG, MUTTON~. TIE CRIB ON OROSS ST1 ET. 65 *And the noise waked andbrought in.his wife--a young comely- looking woman-who sighed;heavily. at, witnessing the miserable condition of her husband, but without uttering a word, she assisted' him to rise, and half supported, half dragged him from the room. And at-this the Wagoner uttered more dismal sonnds, which he intended as before, for laughter, and proposed more healths and more melodies'; but as it was getting on towards midnight, Jack urged that fact, as a reason for declining, and volunteered to assist him to bed. The Wagoner, however, asserted his ability to go to bed without any body's assistance, andigave himself the lie im- mediately after by falling head-long to the floor. And Jack's feel- ings of humanity were touched by the maw's helplessness, so he raised him from the floor to one of the benches, and' took his watch and pocket book into his own possession for safe-keeping. "Pretty good," he remarked in a low tone to his accomplice, 'and it worked even better ,thanI hoped.*Now, if I could onl find the boy-s "He's here," whispered Dick, and he pointed to the bench up- n which Tim was sl&piing. The desperado looked intently at Thn for a moment, and then, as if satisfied he had conjectured rightly, shook him till he awoke. "Come my lad," said the ruffian, your friend wishes you to go on with me to town, and to-morrow he'll meet you there. Jump up, for we' re in a hurry." And Tim obeyed, thinking it was very strange; but he knew no- thing of the world,: and, therefore, had no suspicion. Then Brently opened a side door, and they moved noiselessly to the stables , but they were obliged toforce the stable door open, and to gag the hostler,:before they could get out their;horses. And these proceedings began to surpriseTim; yetbefore he could mus. ter sufficient resolutjon' to attempt an escape, he. found himself mounted behind Dick, and going very rapidly down the road.- The Wagoner worked himself up into a fearful state of mind, next morning when he discovered. his loss, but it was too late. As for the lanidlord, he was so shocked. at the occurrence that he took his wife and his miserable guest aside, and swore to them that he "never again would get'drunk with any man without having, been previously acquainted with him and 'all 4his family for at least three successive generations!" CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH. TIE CRIB ON CROSS STREET t. The classic precincts known as the Five Points, were, twenty years ago even' less respectable than they are now. Ragged pover-. ty, abject and miserable, and Crime contaminating and blood-stain- ed, here, like another Gorgon, raised a hideous front,-and turned beholders into stone. The very air was impregnated with the fe- tors oozhg from the grimed sinks of villainy around, and was poi- sonous-tobreathe. On one of the streets--the most wretched and foul in the vicinage, stood a dingy, vile-looking, rickety house, the mere sight of which was sufficient to cause a chilling and uncon- fortable feeling to the chance passer-by,,and he was bold indeed if he lingered to take a second glance at it. In past days an outside staircase had gone up to a door on the first floor, but forsome rea- son it was taken away afterwards, and now the only entrance to the front of the houde, was through an area door, four or. five feet below the side-walk, to reach which'you descended several dis- sipated looking stone-steps. Over this door was nailed a crooked little board -with queer hie- roglyphics upon it; '(said by .the knowing ones to mean "Lodging House,") and further embellished by a representation of a plethoric 'black bottle, which "at bolt upright; and, =without having any ap- parent projecting' power in itself, spouted quantities of corks, and ari inexhaustible stream of whitish-°broivn liquid into a smaller ob- ject near it, all of which was very-funny, doubtless, though rather page: 66-67[View Page 66-67] 66~ ~ Y.~wt TG UTTON. TUE CRIB ON CROSS STREET. 6 difficult to inderstand.:iOpposite he doo ,or rather running from itwasaovery marrew andv grydark pas age -with, a very creaky, springy floor, leading to several subterraney anpartments, and a, very contracted stairway ; the whole presenting a very suspicious appearance generally. The first door to the left opened into a large, square room with a low ceiling, very much discolored walls, and a particularly-dirty floor.-though the-dirt on the floor was little no- ticed on account ofthe utter hopelessness of a ray of light getting through the dirty little window without becoming in the contact decidedly impure also., To be sure, there were two or three tin sconces hanging 'uponthe wall;,-containingeach a. decayed tallow candle; but these candles looked stumpy and forlorn, as though they were disgusted with existence, and were anxious to go out as soon as pos ible.-In ,one partsof the room was an. indefnite looking ar- rangerent, which proved-upon, minute inspection, to. be a place 'where might be realized the symbolical devices, we have spoken of m-in other words, it was the "bar." It was built of stout planks, and contained a door:and a shutter (the latter arranged so as to fall inside and formia counter) both of which could be readily closed whenrCircumstances rendered it necessary. Fastened upon the walls were p number df:unframed priits, and drawings-portraits of notedthieves, prize-fighters and-infamous women-and some few sketches of very dubious ,morality. Stationary benches, rough pine-tables much hacked with knives, and a rickety arm-chair, with a very uncomfortable back, composed the ariture. The only occupants of this miserable den were a man and a wo- inan-the man oeupying the chair,, and bent slightly forward as hough he was listening to hear some signal from the outside, the woman reclining upon a bench, and apparently, asleep. She was clad tin a enarse gray fioksnomethingsimilar ,rto those: then worn by .prisoners,'which. itted ier loosely, and displayed, in the almost entire absence 'of under garments, a form which,.though faded, was still reunded and sy metrical. Her h ir was long and flowingand would have,,le eleg ht but for.,its diahevelled and neglected -state, and her feat ries, tho' worn andcltouded yet hore the treces of former lo el iness.and beauty. The. man was no'other than our old acquaintance Bill, the 'ac- complice and quandum coachman of Brently. He was-the proprie- tor of this snug establishment, and therefore the reader can readily form an estimate of its character, For the twentieth time during the night, a sound outside caused him to start up and leave the room.--This time, however, he returned with a grim smile diffused over his ugly countenance, for Jack and Dick, whom he had been expecting, were with him. Poor Tim 'followed,.shuddering with fear. "Curse me if I wasn't beginning to think you'd been lagged," exclaimed Bill. "Why, what 'have you been doing all this time ?" "I was hunting up the woman," replied Jack, "that in times past you and I attempted to get hold ,of, on the joint stock principle, as far as her money went.", The woman on the bench suddenly opened her eyes and gazed upon the speaker. Then an expression of joy lit up her face, and next, a frown of deadly hatred clouded it again. Yet she neither spoke or moved, but soon closed her eyes again and seemed as be- fore to be in a deep sleep. "And I suppose you went all the way up there, didn't you ?" growled Bill, for he was not in the best of humors at hearing of such an unprofitable excursion. "No,"replied Jack, "for before I reached there, I heard that she had quit the place' some years ago." "I could havetold you that myself," said Bill. ."She has gone off, the devil knows where-to Europe, I suppose-and-) "No, Bill," interrupted Brently, "she's here, and I not only dis- covered the exact spot on which she lives, but I met her ,face to face." Well, what did you, do ?" asked Bill, "I attempted to carry her off," replied Brently, but was unex.. pect edly interrupted. I tell you, Bill, she shan't escape me, no, not if all the fiends should interpose between us,' "I suppose'the fool's married again, isn't sh" asked Bill. "No, she's still 'single, answered Brently, 1and, rich, - rich enough to venture all for. We must concoct a plan at once." 'i ,a =1 page: 68-69[View Page 68-69] TIMQTBT TUGG MUTTON'. "Who's that Kiddy there?" asked ,Billyabruptly as he pointed towards our hero. "A.milkstone," answered Brently. "I say, Dick, show theboy to bed and',let him sleep if he wishes to. And Dick, you needn't return,:if you don't want.' "All right, Jack, I'm fly," returned Dick, and he led Tim out into the dark passage, and disappeared with him.' Then.Jack told his accomplice-of the'robbery,and produced his gains, which amounted to considerable ; then he went on to tell who Tim was, and why he brought him there, and"what his- plans Were withregard to Isabel., And Bill-pronounced them good, and agreed to co-operate with himupon which Jack desired him to mix him a strong glass.of grog, and take another himself, to. drink suc- cess to the enterprise, which was done. And .the woman 'heard all and-eaw all, though she remained quiet, and seemingly asleep.. J'But Brently's eye. suddenly fell up- onher, and. his faceflushed with anger, as he grasped Bill's, arm,. and demanded who sherwas, and why he had"notwarned him she. was there. Bill bade him speak less' loudly, and then told him that: she was:to other thannhis'former mistress, 'Caroline, who, ,having escaped from the asylum two days before, cameito his (Bill's)-house,. her old home, for refuge.. And Brently's face became livid with' rage, and he;drw'adirk-,knife from-his bosom. "What!" he exclaimed, "dares she cross my path. again, to act the spy and 'betray me tas she did before? But PIl stop that game at once." And he sprang towards her,. and .would haye murdered her as she layithere helpless and; eeiningly asleep, had not Bill thrown his powerful arms about him and forced him back. "Damn you!" muttered Bill, "would you ki'llrasleepihn maniac?" "She betrayed n reoared the other.;-A"Qut your held'!" "Idecause you' betrayed her first," cried Bill, "'and curse mne if I don't like her for her spunk '1 "Perhap you'll like her spunk when she fetches thebeaks upon us and' brirga our decks in jeopardy again," retorted the other savagely. ' ''. ' Y"'.' I L TUB CRIB ON CROSS STREET. 69 "'I aint afraid of that," returned Bill,-"she hasn't sense enough." "In the devils name, why did you permit her to oome here,?" demanded the other. Because I intended to make her useful hereafter," replied the second ruffian. "By--, she shall not stay," cried Brently. "And I say, she shall!" retorted Bill angrily. "Look you, Jack, this crib-is mine, and if I chose to.harbor all'the imps of darkness, Pd do it, and without asking such a cowardly, no-account curse as you be, either." M&As there's& a hell beneath us," roared the other, "r11 make you regret those words "It doesn't lay in your bones,". exclaimed Bill, sneeringly, 'for you daren't attack any but 'Mad-women and kiddys, and then only when-they're asleep." Without uttering a word,, Brently raised his knife again, and dashed at his accomplice, for the last taunt;had cut him to the qnick and he would have died to have revenge.- But Bill grasped his arm and wrested the knife from him, and then they grappled with each other and fell upon.the -loorb And Caroline rose from her recumbent postL -e and looked on wonderingly,, for it was a strange thing to see two men,-who, for a score of years, had been closely united by a brotherhood of;oriie, thus forget their own interests and struggle for each other's:lives. EHalf a, dozen ruffianly men, and several debauched, wretched-looking and nearly nude women, were aroused from their polluted couches by the noise, and. they sauntered into the rooin'and:formed a circle around the combatants, but did not interfere; for" most of them had been participants in scenes like this, and their hearts were as so many flints, without feeling or human sympathy. ,At last Bill threw off the other's hold and clutched him by: the ,throat, and the lookers-on held their breaths, and bent, their: heads forward, as if they were eager to witness each act of the Death Spectacle that apparently was soon-to be enacted. Brently felt the other's knee upon his breast-he saw him raise the knife, and with a bitter curse at fortune he closed his eyes and awaited the life-annihilating blow. 16S '; 'r , I! , page: 70-71[View Page 70-71] 7s f , !i . f L rfi t k 1 I'v ' t i' 1 f y ,l F ' , TI MO ' TUGG MTTO . "Now, Jack, 'youie at my merey,",exclaimed Bill, "and I be. lieve you°can't deny it, nor aan our pals here say that I've taken unfair advantage." "~No, Bill' it's all on the square,"'assented one of the debased lookers-on. "Strike then," cried 'Brently, "and my curse to all eternity light on youi!" "Jack," resigned thedeoneneror -#we've been pals for twetity years, and this was our first disagreement. - I've always given in to you, and followed your advice, but this time you interfered where you'd no oiht, and wanted- to murder a madvoman 'in her sleep because I chose to give her a shake down in my own crib to, save her from the erazy beaks You .all know here what sort of girl Cad was, "d what she done for him - "Yes, yes," exclaimed the whole vile gang around hirn." You're right, Bill, tap hisclaret, let's have no sneaks." "I said we'd beenpals 'for twenty years," continued 1Bil. "Now I want to show that I can't forget that little fact. Jack, L can't hain you-let's be friends!' A A mirmur of astonishment ran through the circle. Br-ently arose; arid although his heart was 'filled with bitter hatred, he" offered'=his.hand to Bill with.,seeming cordiality, and looked at him' with easmile upon his lips "I was wrong ,"he said, "and veryy sorry for it. Come, friends, let's have drinks all around,' and forget that we've ever been at odds."; And' although the miserable wretches thought a drunken revel scarcely sufficient compensation for the disappointment they had ex- perieneed, they nevertheless shook hands with him and crowded around the bar with shouts of approbation. But Caroline had disappeared,' and'Brently's eye sought for her in vain, for at that moment she' was sitting at the bed-side of a sleeping boy-i-poor Tim-i--and weeping as she 'had not done for ma- ny a year before. A LOVER'S QUARRELL. 71 CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH. SLOVER5 QUARREL. Isabel's house stood upon a gentle eminence some four hundred yards above the road, and about double the distance above the ri- ver's bank. It was stirrounded on all sides by a park of an extent and beauty seldom to be seen in these leveling days,' and was ap- proached from the main road by a graveled way which looked par- ticularly enticing with its canopy of green and the bright flowers which lined its sides. Here and there about the grounds stood neat trellised arbors, covered with fruitful vines 'and fragrant honey- suckles, and each contained rural couches which seemed to invite repose and nundane forgetfulness. There was a miniature lake, too, on the premises, in which Egeria was particularly fond of ang- ling, and would angle,} whenever Harry was most anxious she should do something else. The house itself was built after the Elizabethian style; a tasty one-and the designer had especial re- gard to comfort and convenience as well as beauty in the construc- tion. It was but a story and a half high, but very large and roomy nevertheless, and furnished with a degree of elegance and taste that made it seem a very, Paradise. 'A portico, with a tesselated flooring extended entirely around the building, and upon the roof was perched a small observatory in which Uncle Jacob delighted to spend an hour in star-gazing and meditation after the family retired to rest. It was the sixth day after the incidents set forth in our twelfth chapter.' The stranger had sufficiently recovered from his wound to walk about the grounds, and how could it 'have been otherwise when he had two such nurses as Isabel and Egeria to minister to his wants? True he had received merely a flesh wound, but he had lost a deal of 'blood, which reduced him greatly, and brought on a fever. The fever however was checked after the fourth day, and now he was'well as ever, with the exception of the weakness naturally consequent upon losses of blood and fevers generally. Towards the close of the afternoon of'this day, Isabel, Egeria, Harry and the stranger were leisurely walking about the grounds- E+ lei }' 2 :1 t 3 .'A .F ! rt +3 9 d 't s .J a I 70 l page: 72-73[View Page 72-73] 72 TrMOTEY ;TUGG WJTTQ1 . II ' " 1 A LOVER'S QUARREL. 78 =i K the ladies wearingjeyous looks, and theeditknien joy-less ones:' Isabel felt joyous because her deliverer had recovered from his wound ; Egeria felt joyous simply because she had no reason to be otherwise; Harry felt joyless because ,Egeria would not consent- to make. him joyous-; and the stranger felt joyless because many painful recollections pressed upou:jhis heart. And for some time they walked on .without uttering a word, but at length Egeria became troubled with ennui.. "Harry, you're a mere automaton,"she-"exclaimed,."why don't you say, something P 'There! see that beautiful butterfly ! Run and catch it for me like a good allow." But Harry pretended not to hear. "She wants to'get me out of the way so that she may flirt with the stranger," thought he. "Why don't you go?" demanded Egeria imperiously. "I believe, she's half in; love with 'him," continued Harry to him- self "and she thinks I don't see it." "Well," exclaimed Egeria impatiently,."are you going after it or not? But never mind, 1'l catch it myself; so stay where you are, and don't dare to followsme Away she ran after the butterfly, and it was not long before she disappeared. 'Then Harry felt more uncomfortable than before, and he settled in his own mind that she was decidedly anxious to avoid his society. Hb was thoroughly }onyinced of it, in fact, otherwise would she run away thus and tell him he should not follow. Here- tofore she had always commanded thim to do so. She wanted to break his: heart,' that was,evident; but he determined he'd not per- mit her to break it-not even to crack it in the. slightest degree. No ; he'd go off 'to'town and never return or look upon her more. But, perhaps-yes, upon -second thought, he would let her know his-intention first-that was only fair; so he mutteredai few in- coinprehensible words to Isabel,-by'way of excusing himself, and, went off rapidly after Egeria. Without doubt this was exactly what Egeria wished, but Harry was,- as we have before stated, fright- fully in love, and as a natural consequence, was so blind as to be able to see-r--figuratively speaking-.only through green spectacles. He found her in one, of the beautiful trellis bowers, and when she saw him she exclaimed- "Now, didn't I tell you not to follow me? I never can have a moment to myself. "You shall not complain of that hereafter, "returned the lugu- brious victim,."for before night-fall, I shall be in the city." "Really 1" excimend Egeria.: "But what difference will that make, when before night-fall to-mgr row, you will have returned again?" "You mistake," said the lover, "I-will pnot return to-morrow." 'The day after, then, or the following," asserted the beauty. "It makes little 'difference." "True, he replied, "it is immaterial. But it will not be on the following day, or the following week, month, or year, it will not be Egeria felt somewhat startled, and interrupted him. "Why Harry?" she cried, "you're -surely not in earnest I" "I am serious," he answered gravely, "I design leaving this part of the country." "Are you going back to college again ?", she asked innocently. College! She was endeavoring to insult him now ; that was quite plain-he had no doubt of it. "It is rather an unlooked for determination," continued Egeria, "but doubtless a wise one, for you have yet much to learn, poor fellow," and she sighed deeply. "I have learned too much of late for my own peace, and now I must endeavor to unlearn it all. . I will remain here no longer to be the object of mirth and the capriciousness of-of-no matter ! I have had -a bitter lesson, and shall profit by it hereafter." "Why Harry!", cried Egeria, with a forced laugh, (for the gipsy knew well enough what he meant,) "what can that be you know so much of that it is necessary for your peace you should unlearn it?" Harry fastened the top button of his coat with an air of despera- tion. "That I have ever loved you," he said. "Oh, the task will not be difficult, sir," returned Egeria with sudden pique, you are therefore unnecessarily alarmed. Do not, page: 74-75[View Page 74-75] "'74 TIOhY TU G MUTTON. however, waste the tine that shbul'd be employed in forwarding- so laudable an object-I-I can dispense with jou rpresenee, sir, be assured."= "In that case, Miss Wilton," sad=Harry, "I will take my leave. Farewell." But'he didn't iove ,n inch. "Well, Mr. Chesterr returned Egeria; "you are quite free to go, if you desire to do so. There is he door," she would have said hdd not' her heart taken partagainst her tongue and sent up a sob to silence it. "Since y ou i sl 'me to go," stammered the 'lover-"I say, since jou-particulaly desirerme'to go, I must obey your commands. I-" "I have no recollection of commanding or even desiring you to go,", interrupted the younggirl.I said you'were free to do-so." "No matter, Miss Wilton," said the simple fellow. ,'You nieant it-that's the same thing. You have scorned my love, you have trampled upon my feelings, you have had the cruelty to show, in so marked a manner, your preference for another-" "My preference for another l' exclaimed Egeria with real as- tonishment. "Why, who could that have been ? Surely 'not father ? f'or I nust love him, you'know," she added artlessly. "Pshaw!" ekelaimedHarry, "I mean this stranger." "Our guest !" cried Egeria, with a merry laughs "Why, you# don't suppose I prefer hitm to you, do you?'" "With good reason, I think," answered Harry, a little staggered by this last remark, "didn't you visit him four or five times a day during his illness, and were you not always eager to-t-" "Why, what nonsense you a-e uttering!" interrupted the beau- ty. "Was he not wounded in- rescuing Cousin: Belle from those vila wretches,? Common gratitude demanded that we should pay him every attention." "Yes, yes, I know, don't say any more," cried the poor lover. "I never thought of that. What a consummate idiot! But 1'll run and beg his pardon-" "Why, you surely did not insult him ?'? asked Egeria with a look of alarm. "No, I didn't iisul him;" he answered. A LOVER'$ QUARRELS - 75 "Nor behave rudely to him ?" "No, I only thought of doing -so. "Then, there's nonecessity for begging his pardon," said Ege- ria, her face glowing with pleasure again. "Come, sit by my side. Don't be afraisl-there! now look me in the face, and give me your right hand, for I'm going to ask you.a few questions. You said you would be in town before nightfall 2" "Yes, I know I did, but I've _altered my mind and shall stay "You also said that I had taught you a bitter lesson ?" "I meant a sweet one. You taught me to love you to distraction." "But you-said you wished to unlearn that ?" Ah, but it was, only that I might have the felicity of being taught egain." "I intended trying to unlearn the self-same thing, but I fear I would also pain myself in paining you," said the young girl inge- niously. "Then you do love me-a little 2" asked the lover, in a very tremulous and anxious tone. "And she answered with all the fervor of an innocent heart, "I love you dearly, Harry," and turned aside her head to hide her blushes, but Harry in his ecstacy, so far lost sight of discretion as to clasp her in his arms and press his first kiss upon her rosy lips, and as. she made but slight resistance, doubtless he would have had an indefinite number of kisses more, had not Uncle Jacob, by the simplest accident in.the world,.,suddenly. entered the bower. Of course, (asis usual in such cases.) from .beirig embraced by her, lover, Egeria went to embracing her father, andlHarry dropped upon his knees by her side, in a very striking manner, and looked askant.into the old man's face. And Uncle Jacob's heart, was joyous, so he placed a, hand upon the head of each, and, breathed a silent but fervent pt ayer that peace, prosperity and happiness might attend their, union, and that their days might be long in the land. page: 76-77[View Page 76-77] 76 TrIOTAiY u~d MUTTON. CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH. TAM' ATTZ1 PT' AT' 5UICIDM.'d The stratiger whoshadunconsciously'r'catised Harry so much in= ttanquility 's- ourdld acquaintanee, George Walters. Two weeks previous to the night of the wagei-, he had' returned tow his native place, aft@ long absence'to takd possession of a large property bequeathed him by a distant relative; .and having completed his' business, would 'haedelarte lf'rom scenes which depressed and saddened himtingupon'the foloing dar, had not that detestable event caused- hins t© defer'rhis journey.; 'Th a nihi h returned to'hi-,lodgings digested with the world and himself, and sick at heart. Early next morning a letter -with a2 B sta post-'ark wan handed him, pirprrting to have been written at the request 'of one of his oldest, d° dearest friends, (name not mentioned,) who was on his death-bed, and begged ot' him to come on Without a-moment's-delay, as matters of "most vital import to those he loved" were to be imparted to him. -'The name- o an "eminent Bostin merehaitwa 'affixed as 'the writers We may as well stateiere, that Brently fearful of the young man's interpo- sition, had concocted a second letter on that night (the one in ques. tion) in the hope that it would 'indtwee him to proceed to Boston. Once there ;he cared not how soon the stratagem was discovered, as he hoped to be beyond Walters' reach4 long before it was' possi- ble for himto return. Walters had nosuspicion, for the circum.. stance, though unusual, was natural enough, and so, for the time, he waived all other considerations, and at oncedeparted. Upon his arrival in Boston, he, ofi course, at tonne discovered he had been duped ; and conjecturing truly that Brently was the:author, he burned'to avenge himself, and embarked upon another vessel to re- turn The ship was obliged to leave port without her full complement of men, and unfortunately on the second night out, a' violent storm broke over them, and before the crew could obey the order to furl all, the foretopsail blew out of the bolt ropes,' flew away to lee- ward, and the spar snapped and 'went 'overthe side carrying three poor fellows with it. All was confusion, the ship became un-- manageable, dashed nadly before the gale far out to .da, and finally there was a stunningcrash-avivid flash-a cry of agony, the light= ning had struck the ship-she was in flames!= 'A raft was hastily constructed, and on it they tossed 'about helplessly until after se- veral days they were picked up by a merchant-man bound for the Mediterranean. But misfortune still followed'them. No .sooner had they passed the straits, than they were overhauled by Algerino pirates, captured and driven into slavery. From this slavery Wal- 1ers had but latdy escaped and returned to his native land. He and Isabel had, known each other in times long gone, by, but care and hardships had so changed him, that his former friends no longer recognized him.,, True,, there was a something in his coun- tenanee and in the tone of his -voice, that Isabel thought familiar, but she quickly banished that thought a$ achimera,.-and endeavor- ed to forget it. 'For his, manner was reserved and, every cold to- wards her, and he seldom spoke unless she first addressed him, and then it was with averted eyes and a faultering tongue. Still, a secret feeling-gratitude perhaps--attracted, her towards . him, and she longed to raise the veil of mystery whichsurrounded him and know himas he had been and as he was. After their young companions left them they walked on in si- lence. Both were busy with their thoughts--thoughts perhaps of each other-who could, tell? At length, Isabel raised her eyes to her companion's face, and she fancied that a degree of pallor, much greater than had marked it since his recovery, now overspread it. .And Walters suddenly dropped, her arm, and staggered ngaiinst a tree, but seeing that his fair hostess was about to call for assist- ance, he forced a smile, and endeavored to assure her that it was a mere faintness that would pass away as rapidly as it came. "Nay, Madam," he' continued, "I have already uit.e rearedd and I know not how to apologise for the alarm I have given you." "Apologise, Mr; Wa1ers!" exclaimed Isabel, "it is I that should apologise for having been so thoughtless as to overtask your strength. But we will return. My uncle will be. difficult to ap- : ,y 'I ieTHH,.-,ATTEIIMPT AT :SUICIDE. 77 page: 78-79[View Page 78-79] 78 TIMOTHY TCG MUTTohN. pease, when he learnshow little regard I have shown for the well- being of one to whom I owe so much." "Nay, Madam," cried Walters,-'I beg 'you will not again allude to.a service which might have been performed as well by any other man. And do not doubt my strength, for it is': sufficiently re-es- tablished to make me feel that I need trespass upon your hospitali- ties no-longer. Oh, sir, you do not design leaving us as yet?" asked Isabel quickly. "To-morrow,;Madam," replied Walters. But seeing that her countenance expressed surprise-.as he supposed it--he added: "My path through life has ever been, -and ever will be, a dark and dreary:one. When -a-ray-of sunshine chances to fall upon it, I treat it as a pleasing dream 'from which -I soon must wake to feel more sensibly the sad reality. Your goodnessyour kindness to one you know not, save by his own report-" "I beg you will not allude to that," interrupted Isabel. "I have but done my duty-nothing more." "Yes," exclaimed Walters, sadly, "in that light I know you look upon the charitable office you performed, and I feel that if I dared once more open my heart and raise -again an image there, too soon I'd find 'twas but another dream and fall beneath the blow. No, to me the past is all a blank, the present joyless, and the future hopeless and forbidding," "Oh, do not think so," cried Isabel, "a happy future may yet open to you, for surely you have=friends, if not relatives, who love you-" "Ah, Madam," answered Walters, "after losing the best part of youth in foreign bondage, I returned to my native land but to learn that all my kindred have gone down -to"the tomb, and that among the few friends remaining whom Ilved in happier days, none -recognize me-now. I am a stranger, 'Madam, eveno on the spot where I was born, an outcast from all hope, a man that' des tiny decreed= should live a wanderer, and die, at last, unnoticed and unmourned." Isabel was deeply moved. "Nay,"she exlaimed, "here, at least, you will always find true friends, here you will be at all times wel- come, here you will ever meet one whose heart regard: you -" She paused suddenly, for Walters' eyes were fixed upon her with an expression of eager interest, and her face flushed as she added-. "With sisterly esteem," The young man's eyes fell to the ground again, and he sighed heavily, but he spoke not, for his brain. was whirling. Instinctively, (for neither marked the path they took,) they walk- ed towards the house. Uncle Jacob met them at the porch, his face radiant with joy, and he remarked to Isabel, that he had pleasing news to' tell her, , Upon which Walters muttered some incoherent -words, and walked rapidly away-.-lhe heeded not whither-and did not pause till he reached the river's bank. - Then he looked upon the deep rolling :waters and thought of suicide. "Why," thought he, "should a friendless, unloved wanderer like me struggle through hopeless years to come, when an eternal sleep might there be mine ? What is the wealth I have inherited but an additional curse upon me to make me doubt my fellow man ,andview advances with suspicion. In whom can I confide,-fromn whom can I expect regard, should I begin life anew,:and endeavor to forget the past?-None! all who loved me are at rest, and it is too late, too late now to inspire disinterested friendship. And to meet her again-to be compelled to endure the double agony of knowing that although I have won her gratitude, her heart still remains, untouched, and. never can be mine. Of what avail would self-imposed banishment now be to me, with those sweet tones ringing in my ears, and that loved form to haunt me night and day? What but misery more bitter than I have yet endured ? Why then should I struggle.on? No! let the end be now-destiny, be thou at once accomplished!" But .as the half frantic man was advancing towards the river, the villain Brently suddenly started from the wood and struck him a heavy blow from behind. Walters turned instinctively to grap.- ple with his assailant, when a second and heavier blow was given him, and he fell senseless and without a groan upon the bank. 'a 3 t i i s 3 t =i S f I } :7 # } xQ{q 3 \\ s{jj "Y T " ATTEMPT AT SUICIDE. 79 page: 80-81[View Page 80-81] 80 TIMOTHY; TUG- MUTTON. "He's dead," ehuekle4 the miscreant as he walked away, "and that settles all old sores between us." CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH. TII ABbTCTION That night Isabelawaited Walters' return in vainAs the hours wore away, she became more and more alarmed, but she kept her apprehensions-to.herself, .for ucli was-the happiness -Iof those, around her, that she ,felt 'twould be unkind were she to chill them with calamitous forebodings. Egeria and Harry scarcely noticed Walters' abenee, for lovre, bright and ennling though it is, yet beyond its immediate object is.not untinged with selfishness. Un- cle Jacob, indeed, was ill at ease; but he forebore the least allu- sion to the matter, lest he should alarm his'niece and daughter. At lengthy Egeria- retired'to rest,:and then Isabel hastily communicat- ed her fears to 'the good old man, and urged an immediate search about the grouxdes "You alarm yourself unnecessarily, my dear Isabel," said Uncle Jacob, with-an 'assumed carelessness. "May not our guest have wandered off and lost his way, and then sought shelter at some inn or house -till morning."} ;Heaven grant it may be so!"a'murmured Isabel,' "but I have a strange presentiment that some evil has befallen him. -Oh, uncle, in such a grateful light do I viow the serviceshe-rendered us that I have ceased to look upon him as a stranger, but rather as a dear and cherished brother: Think, uncle, he has not 'fully recovered yet, and-may have fallen down through weakness, or he may have been attacked as we twere-a few',nights since, any wounded again -go, uncle, g! takeall-thea servants with' you an( 3eareh until you findhm TE ABDtXOTIO . 81 "I will wake up Tom and Peter at once," said Uncle Jacob; "with Harry here and those two men, I can search the country for three miles around in as many hours." "Take John With you, also, uncle,", urged Isabel, "you might- require him, too." "No, he had better remain in case of accident," said Uncle Ja.. cob; "you must have at least one protector.' "Take him, uncle, take him," cried the excited lady ; "no dan- ger need be apprehended here. It is in the open-air that we should fear it, not within bolted doors.-Now, uncle,.humor me in this." "I will," replied the old gentleman, "but you must promise me to retire at once to your own chamber, and not to leave it before mnornings "I promise." "Then we'shall set off at once," he said .band if you don't see this brother of yours in the breakfast room to-morrow morning, say I'm a bad prophet. -'There, don't say any more "Only to caution you to 'be careful of yourself, dear uncle." "Oh, I'm sturdy as an oak," asserted the good Qld fellow gaily, "and can bear more 'than half the nien with ten : years less upon their shoulders. Now, not another word, you foolish thing. Good night, good night!" and he fairly forced her' from the room. In less than five minutes Uncle Jacob completed his arrange- ments, and'left the house with Harry tnd the thee Servants. But although Isabel sought her chamber, she thought not of repose, for the fate of -the 'man. who had awakened so strange an interest in her heart, was yet unknown to her. She felt herself drawn towards this stranger by, an impulf :she cud not re- sist, but she could not tell whence came this impulse ; she only knew 'that he had become most dear to her, and imagined that it -was' gratitude that aroused the' feeling,s She tried to reassure 'herself with Uncle Jacob's words, but could not, though she never allowed a thought of the possibility of Walters' having sustained a fatal:injury to cross her mind, She sat there, pale as'a statue, with her hands pressed firmly upon her bosom and listening eagerly to catch the slightest sound. Ten minutes had page: 82-83[View Page 82-83] 82 TIMOTHY .TUGG MFTTDON. not yet elapsed since the departure of heruncle and his party, yet it appeared to her as.if as many hours had passed. The atmosphere. seemed dense and oppressive, and she threw open the shutters to, let in, abreath ot-purer air, and saw,standing upon the portico inim mediately before her, the miscreant Brently ! She staggered back. into a chair, almost 'dumh with amazement and terror, and the ruffian at once sprang into theechamber and seated himself near her. "Why," exclaimed the'villain, "really,.Belle, this complaisance on your part quite charming. was-preparing to make forcible entry through that window, when, behold! you forestall my inten- tions rhythrowing it open'with your-own fair hands. And this is your 'ownimmaeulate chamber, too! Faith,.it's a luxurious one-a very proper one for the reception of -so true a lover as myself. Really, Belle, I'm charmed." Isabel's eyes flashed with:indignation, and, she forgot her help- less situations she answered: "Begone, detested wretch ! I have not words to express the loathing and contempt I feel for: you. Leave this apartment, nor dare contaminate itlonger with your presence.", "Very good, indeed; said the miscreant, witha low, sneering. laugh. "You do it capitally. However,'as time is precious, I must beg you to defer these =little ebullitions-for -some more. propitious moment. But be 'not alarmed, my sweet creature, inregard to this apartment. It is not here: I hope totconsummate the. happiness I now experience. The home I provided for you years ago, has ever since been faithfully reserved, and now- that it is about to re- ceive you-" "Another word and I'll alarm the house," and Isabel took a step towards the door: "And I solemnly declare to you," asserted Brently, coolly, "that I will commit manslaughter, or womanslaughter3 as the case amay be, upon the first person that enters this room without my express "There are fiveamen belonging to the house-" "But they are wandering about in search of a missing th," in- terrupted the ruffian. "I am aware of that, as I overheard their 'THE ABtbUOTIONT. 88 conversation when they were starting off.' But, as all the available force of the garrison has been impressed into that' service, none but women remain,'and my companionsoutside would like nothing better than to kill, burn and destroy, as the saying is.' Alarm the house, my beauty, by 'all means.' An icy chill shot through Isabel's veins, but she felt 'it was a time when the forethought of a second wouli determine the for- tune of a life; and that her chances of escape, as well as the safety of the innocent young creature who slumbered unconsciously in an adjacent chamber, depended upon her gaining time util her friends returned. She endeavored to subdue her feelings of repugnance, and to throw more gentleness into her tohe, but there was'still a deal of coldness in it when she asked--- "What do you require of me?" "Since you have 'dropped inveetives," he replied; "I will an- swer you to the point. I am desirous of possessing you, for two cogent reasons. In the first place you are rich and I am poor--" "Name the sum you require," interrupted Isabel, "and you shall have it." "'What is the total value of your property," asked the miscreant. "That much I require."--. "Take it-take everything"-said Isabel gaspingly, "so you but leave me unmolested for the future!" "I have named my first reason," resumed Brently. "My second is, that as you twice bafRed mey I am piqued into taking advantage of my present power." "Will not my wealth content you ?" she asked, shuddering in- voluntarily. "No!" replied the villain, "I cannot make conditions.,- Will you go with me quietly, or shall I fire the house ? Decide quickly ; I have no- time to lose," and hecaught up a lamp,,with a threaten- ing air. "Forbear!t forbear 1" cried Isabel. "If I consent, will you pro- mise me not to molest any one you may find here?" "My 'business is with you, not them," he rel'lied. "X promise, on my honor. e j S 1 r 3 a ( 1 s 3 1 I{ i , ,; ' ,! page: 84-85[View Page 84-85] S4 TIMOTHY TUGG MUTTON. "Your honor I" returned Isabel, bitterly. "Give Ine an hour for preparation, and I'll go with you." "Five minutes.will suffice-J'll help you," answered Brently, ATht wardrobe contains your dresses, does it not? Let me select the handsomest-.so. Your fine linens, jewelry and the like, arein this bureau are they not? Aye, I thought- so. Don't rise- --I'll pack them up myself. Thgt bandbox, of course ontain a bonnt,We'll take the bonnet and leave the box, it would be troublesome to car- ry. Do you require anything more for your immediate use? Eli? Well, silencegives consent of course.:I'll hundle them all together in this very rich cashmere shoulder-coverlet, and now, Belle, our preparations are complete, Let's make a start ofrit at once. Come!'? But at this moment, Dick thrust his head through the window, and said in a low, quick tone: "Hurry up, Jack, they're coming back, I think!" Isabel caught the words and her heart beathigh with ecstacy. "Aha !" she cried, " help is at hand! You are foiled, villain, you are foiled!" "Damnation!" exclaimed the miscreant savagely.. "But you've not.escaped me yet. Come, or I'll kill you where you stand!"- "I defy you, coward!" cried the noble woman. "Now I'm be- yond your power." And she, rushed past, him to the window and was about to scream for help, when the inhuman monster, Dick, struck her-with a, club,sand she-fell insensible across the sill. - "You've killed her, fool," muttered Brently, "and spoiled every thing." "No, it was only a stunner," answered Dick;, cooly, "and it'll keep her mum along the road. Brently remarked that perhaps it was as well he did so, and or- dered him to. extinguish the- light, take, charge of the bundle, anTd to close the shutters carefully when he-,came tit, 'for fear," he continued jocosely, "some rascally housebreaker might enter the apartment, Bill was waiting. with a chaise in a copse by ,the road side, and they reached it without interruption. .Tsabel's helpless form was placed upon one seat and Jack and Dick occupied the other. - rm O1ADWENTUES. An houir after;theybtrt he into thebooming ke? of the ri oCrossS eest' I I 'o flPT T E A NIGHT OF ADV l~T' R. A deal of surprise and excitement was display thpnn .ff the Cib on oss estjwhen the still e+n ible o npf Isa- bel was borne into that elysian retreat, and n1; A littlescuriosity was nanifestdd 'as o ththis addition totheiranumnbersnight .be, a iA what issitiri sherWbuld hold .among .therm,1il instead, of gratifying their very laudable curiosity, eaphatic lly ,egssted them to -hteid to, the bWn 3idividua1 &vppationsijaiid~pp1heir luckies i'bestowing 6eoierj ebivekyidecid d.mal4diqU p.upon heir apties the ladies: detlemenm of,theCri w rgonse- 4u'ntlj'obli;edt6 ii't'the a artmentr ii.g 4in the slightest de gre etdifie&6trhlightenead vo n .ha :( an + ] r'"," r Caroline entered the boozing ken at the moment i1 s ne ?, pants retiredtth&ehedd of p 4te life-, and-resuoi!d' por- ite position upon one of the benches. "A greatichang bt44 Pen fdace ihier addra'l.k Wasf$n noWob- e' and ahongh itsi r{ erb Crher too, ,frael p , jhe looked, as her patron, Bill, expressed it, "just the high swell dor busidd"ihs,' .d i t 4 the bu tsims i o ic i fpde, sia e~ilyl hei@ d y tirangersiteb i en thatheirgight b ho " mit wtl ijlu i fbit }arbli h bnot agiaq e - ystdo ee fri ah thiteMria lblen~tiaoetheiapyeaO 4, : te rsai d iirs ' N he' k ord lier akittnit; and elly d~ sening afielle a faudl dk ik offuingrilt fyder oi nae oft le ded44 a sandnorpblei madr PN- sessing intellectual faculties so weak ttrh )could-nbture z4 br 0 -1 0 page: 86-87[View Page 86-87] .tr1X EW,'UQ*G , IO:_ awelvit1o1 iegstikiiig; romhoUstabTu'1dP aresped? to be a complete blank to her, and when she ,spoke lghglu seldom, it was never to the point. On this occasion, as on every other, they did not object to her' presence therefore, but conversed before her freely, "You gave her a devil of a stunner, Dick," observed Bill, as he looked at Isabel, "and it's my opinion, the sooner something's done to get her over it 4)abetter"' Dick pulled'out a&k of band id id, #ei, I'll bring her ground in double qui p*,e "Why, you fool, you don't imagine brandfwill do it, do you ?" '4WfelWl'&u ld ielebe it, answer Djyk fi' brn ~ ;af'ikdpjt. for'yourself then;' de d Brently., "Suppos we takeAher1k int o4heBlued Aiht rlr,.t once; and , e C 4ealg et up;pdy;eshe a '? and 1bshook -e ro ugIil .1, ejlii&daoe, bnd sthred at idngni ingy. , .s LI twii 'to -6iGd," resume r±nly "J want e-oto -takYA eV ek f ir tiful woman ha ybrongbh =. h heavy fall and hurt her head) andy ib"!stpre her Jyo u 3eeat!ilddy4hurt sfake Qb wel aga n .yes I y i a~tlfl hid i * ! " r ' Stis-"e ied theronkm .,ri 'o rh'Alle;usr" aaid Bill, uthotatiy ly e7er a, 9fd 4',b#1th th glim. ep Kp4194 x pic k,-ill ye9 come IThe'Blue4ight'Perkr Was agi obkog~rgp othe seep n4 o , Idl i rense4renoe t'being Mghted only f t '. to rea~h itr ityahinldee$say~ to pasoruggToqgego tt iwt iaposiAe lfor ayl one to leayegginet1igghe ooupatiffit had onej ot that: apartpaggt gthguglit ~ u- niahed~ 4omfdtpley I and e ekgalpiy, the, ehynbe was s la svevy prison" hi7,ppea ianoowith itajo rhva rlrd itt Grated wiiedo'tonothd rQok *t .j "s f 3 g 1 3 t , _ ,t . ' i i " : i .-:IGfT OF ADVENTURES. 87 Caroline :gazed upotIsahel with f n+ expression. ofblank dismay ang horjk p.head. , "What's the matter with you ?" interrogated Brently, harshly. $hede iot ,dead%. H i put'Mourhand overhie heart. Don't'you fel itbeat" "Yes,,yps, feel it,"'answered Qarnnereassured, "Go away now.' I'll restore her--go away, I tell you." '.Come, Jack, t her alone," saiddill,; "whether mad or sane, women know well enough how to treat each other. "I Won't leave.his rpomn.,o-night," muttered 3re tly. "Cant ,you come backagain ?" asked the other. "I tell your Jack, there's gameafogt she'll beafe enapgh herotill we inish ,that her job. Leteherralone, I say, just now The two villains left the roomand closed the outside door be- hindhep. Then aroline became inustally nimated and'pplied herselfwith earnest sglicitude to bring about the recoveryrof her former. mistress, "How dreadfullymyheed aohes!'nm rmIted Isabel, when she returned to conscioitwtss. "How cae I in this range room? Ah! I mrerneber now;! dell e where,Iam, Whither have they bought ne? B not alarmed," wis[ered Caroline gentle "I frind gy,"Iamy your s 4y friend-.youl tell ine, tellh'ne whore I'r.' Caroline again besought'her not to be alaThie, bit when she told her all the intentions o f' the villains and their: power, poor I abei sun lba k again cornpltly overcome with fear "But I"tell by iniyourofriend continued Caroline, "and al- though my 4ppearance niay lad you'to supse me base as those nden myself;Lhaveyget one virtue left---alas, but one!-the virtue to loathe myslf : and to hte; beyond expiesiorr, the demon who designs your rui." "Then why do you remain abimrijs'these nhiceart?; asked Isa- bel, idoubingly 'J llitell you madam;" answered Caroline; "but fiat lInnut ask you if you do not trezmb b girl; played iiri )jor service by this villain, who" -. 1 1,°- t '.' ~ a] Ia F1 J '4 [ a # 1 0 page: 88-89[View Page 88-89] #8TMrmelUWGe Mt5TTNA S~6wohi y donfidene;' interiuiteil 4gbel "oalf tt betray me. Yes, I recollect you now. Perhaps you-h& a'-simitr bjet iii ieWt agdifl?Mi Kam a 1 "pyeyor4epoahsmadam?'ysaj th the oI bI aged you not, and, do not deserve your censure."- Thenhe detailed that portion e fy° hwh'lt °r ltigta're tly, with which the reader is acquainted. K - My Vbjetta i enVtri~io wervi es she Vondiued wast save you and attheisa heet-m aonge ny elf. I ghveinoimation of Brently''±erkah tohdie pohceshdadi'ed theiri to seize him aI h -enieredlthhosise; but, fo soeinrekidif of their ben, they delayed hid o 'ptureu tl he wastseatd ir'the rriage."t "My child was 14 h tir ou,u eridd sbel,' 'telin, tell -e whatdidthegdo ithit Youdid udto "bjurer it, o ; a ino; shoul ha eebi festored t obn, but Lwasw6di d ddurausly and left epohhee roea.d f soa "4 physical annihilation only to encounter mental death, for became miad;raving°id, sid' fakchfi 'ih ihdhai6 1"to tIe lunatic asylum. Years eaagei'e e ih eason va edtre, and butne week his as sineFlir si+dny libei t . TIh eat 1h man still lived who had so deeply wronged "e and tie" I vowed anetv t& b n ge t iowsyunc mill. fkn should m h him here, so I puntpn the appparan e of imagtye sucoce'sSfully5 to cover my degs ,inhow I hav 4 iggae, iare ins myrpowier. Hsh doyoupot, h fontstepsYves, e ej agng sup gain this time unaccompanieh myIeanprvanyselftorheyyoirfriend Stratagem aloe cansave ypp fo resistanefvould be fruitles. I will take your placegandyoni upst pegsr tqthe niae. and cau:- tionhim notf 1otppro ic_ the.lad aydgas h a ot as eeoered Quick, blow opt the light,meet him irktxe adjainipg ram, rd ,e- main there." "Andgwillyoum k.04 r -- - i t'r: "Sacrifice !" interrupted Caroline. "Life is all. '4liai'= left ing now to ,sarifoe, fr ndr fesoni, self-Yespecta:were imhiaited long ago, :Dp.s4eirYf ypuispuld °' rle{what: Iam 9' Isabel shuddered,and she reached the anteroom at the same nnnehr A 9"i Anf, IyJNTuRE@S. 89 rently enter d itfrQmthe pasyge. Ieleft lis lamp outside, and within the darkness was profound. S loe stopped him and whisper- ed that the lady wad slliinsenblet and must not be di!urbed, but he called her a crazy fool, thrust her rudely by ipd passed into the chamber,,pqsg tle.14or behind y 'Jiet Isabel dropped on he knees in au Kubse orner, and triedto-pray, but her faintness returned again, and she reeled over on the floeg. , When she recoveres, she found herself supported by Caroline apd a hands aIa,, whose features impressed her strongly.- Brently hsd gone the-laip had been relighted, ,nd the three were eene together, "Look up,aapr, ook; up fealsaly," eied Caroine, "for dan- ger is now past.-This lad is a fellow prisoner. For years, lie has been, orphaned, but Ihav prepared.him to meet a friend in you, pnd I know you wilUr oeive, him joyfully. his features seem fa- miliar to you 49 y1tPY9'Q aagitated-, yur bosom heaves ; your eyes grow brighter and you arms impulsively-'tis well ! throw them about him, for in him, Ieholpl your child, long lost, but found again! 1" "Oh, mother," exclaimed Tin, "how a gl}I an to see you! Pear, dear mother!" What said Isahel ? Nothing. But shstrained im to her heart with rapturous delight, ad tears of joy fell from,,pher eyes upon his brow. And those tear-drop es. a sed im tp look up wonderingly. "Are you sorry to see me, mother, that you er.y sp !" he asked timidly. "See, I don'tMryh apse J' pse happy, so very, very happy now, thatyI'vefognd you, mother." But a thought of hereson's danger ought a sudden terror to her heart. She caught Caroline's lapi,,a4 whispeed hurriedly, "It you can save him, I conjure you by allthat is good, do it, even if in Saving m, yob,+ ,y ev Retoperish. "Be' calm-fear not,''C"roligoinsvered to-morrow both shall be in safety if Iut live' ill tlrn s efre morgingyou "will.not be molested, for the arh-lemop ofth siellishplace now feels assur- ed that you are his, beyond retrieving, and will not ,visit you again to-night.Be not gurz theegf 9if Xsho44 leave 'yos now, but S , r r 4 4^ r ggy)a f) 71 D r u_ VO rl F1Y p ]] z? t i F-t F- _ : . page: 90-91[View Page 90-91] ' t An TUG4 t ro . A~~t 1 1~TJ~ o" a&yi r the 156s, kd happen t 9Ya ~ reo bswhat rni aT; v! bho~id; o6kfto ahd de gat, nd~tey; i ll ed la'myUd1,adi h ae hm6oert buT C xu~o I,, i e Fk iq , s h i ldih' "' .1_d f ~ ~h ron witho sayg mo iai nteo re Tmi ~~l'o te ' soms eeau wY ndea,,stu ged t h6'Tcoer tLit, brtarvllio~~ ~iti em re si at ifi~v nserbfAnd then ther agai, ' te p4siheg 'of notiide'lourh'hide' shfdits l aid Iit o "Ab, Bell,. Iqk ell lisrning," sai e -the r Alia henh gednas andaghttle beamI cotrvedutong the wlbutksfq't'igo y: lI 'a ath ir d f V 6f ti 'ii't "r f th .s t rod - ' nd r o sequ C i ed gawasainyiirs ptment'Ik pesnueroyo bill ilkice t tat Eh , my ibaf"t .8"' e'f1 otepsi ow fpasagand fe#ringpt 'mr6d ahth be rc tiii ta sheincouldc not avoid her.ingeA'ihcnl b a14y!" i'ihef-n i pue.Toal''wa a1 rd ii ' 6 a t th~ suddny a st "AnBe, an Lookeell tis ny in sa~~id the "fnlear bf human et F t :rrrn yr , f~'X ray ouspre°e. il fohe s 'r'i ,- fe l P tt i r r ha -e e'a~ eo i ii e n~ , by ast i lit thughP Icot ~ived l t iive 1the . ta he r gedi go bit.;' Ii~~~'~e~~tte~~'o tere1ta nonsense'a few'h~u isgo, lht'n&*, thVn'dea& tlis day after the fair, as the saying is: you're mine,- and it's too late." "Too late !"_cried Isabel.:'i is not too late ; you deceive your- self;l I am now what I was when- you forced me from home last tiih r iW hi sal beto-motro&waswret~hed; e'et~ :.. I eritited? O mmlty? i5Certai'nly'not lBelle, fcir' I shall aeknowlM edge you'tiasiny, ife;, 3 ou knbiW. Y'ow n, dnr't 1tlookfg ud and kn esti&, 'for :l' mean whet I s i x 'ihbugh 'fif yet don'tdi ci the Idea of having =anbther lubfttiyoti need merely 'oIfs i. nelf.-MY I~ibet'had a'stmnmi answer at her tengueP e'ti4,ibut she thought o her 'little i56h ,'and' st'pjwe sec it.' 4i ,an it'.uonfe~s~inys lf tb hba wlh t She er hia e'hee n and n~evers WiWI e h id1, ;fi',, 1 "Ycur mnenm o ry'ni sty .'br& treachWI u ,' ' rr'ed The ruffian,', Aif yo it forget the occttene 6f l ost 'itght."' Ltt'sl ddenl'r }a suspio cio crshe t~6ili hibrain'lat oihe deeeptiownhad beehi jiac. ticed,"and he" demanded a rily-'- Who as-It spoke 'to me tin that 'room? Was it'not CaroAinie?1'" , "You! Who then was it I found within =this4 8h4 l erP? } The ruffian started up with a temrmxbl inipreo t~i N'tiid aa l edid sf6;, a pist~cil, xin jm ofhrea iby hini, fell frotii hi pboket, anid'Tim darted from beneath th'e bed, g ts'pedlifii ndl eveled it atthe mnis- creant's head' . } t.,'to 1r'flt I . *y ts'' "Don't the frightened l oth ;" cied'thbe' l~fboldly , ffo l 'if .h'a touches -you, I' ll shoot him hike1ai dog . 'toit '~hurt Lynothi if You 'daI'a." ' ' Y '' T7'_ ps ; 3 7 j ' 1 .!S ,5 l 2 f7 !t '' i '-z Kf : r ' :F I K d ' 0 rS:k , I~t 9~ I: T5~'f'sII 1I A t " IqIGAr OP, "''AMUNTUtE8. page: 92-93[View Page 92-93] 92 42".°Jf;tCHAPTERIJrANINEWTJ, i ^H' - - « . 1, _ t' .'' of t L tY4 I f, t r f 'Y4ho h er ,j 4 , ' Uncle ider sarchingpartyo though e. telo a1ac e and all that, contrived, out of the .,r ardial pon tMxp bitt thiedy n uiissthef rlh, Thatrh theWest gep$pth wereaig though without e slig}test uges w s s n gsman;a~ lying~oalhe.iyerbap 4hfnd was ast. A i~eytdn' ar .nment 'ppietheyo there, and consequently never thought of going there to look Stil it=wasequite .edifyig toseewith wht perspeycaee e eob led hi°brave4fllowers fo,farim house to farm house, egttag to cottage, and cirgewith hi ine upp window huttggnhd 4p '. el, in .rderPta se th inns t Andit wguldbavereen a aoerce of odagerpa le a pusement ta ths ggexgali.y Q.. people, could they{ hane' pthe sundry tandvieadSitat pgpppd out ofIndows , a ct4h gu ons- heads ial in pigtu esue bandan- nas, heads female in linen'and huge ruffles heads auvepile in eli" co and cotton, headotishedheads £rigtenedand sometunes ( not oft e).:an'ghern "Have you seen anything of a "getir." abou- here?" _ncle 3eob, to1ai skiLnj an! excited tone,. .+ I H en' Y othin' of no gentlemantemght 1 wop1a he t e unsatisfactorg Ma'g. What'sthrafe. ,ah ,fy -' "Thank you-excuse our disturbing you," invariably finkhed theolloquy,. md=Une Jagolkwon d tag iplseWhere with sg = resulFinally the oldfllq; way , oMt ,oisuggest to his actiVe lieutenant, Harry, the propriety of postponig further in, quirky until they had daylight for it, when he noticed wo men hur- raying in the direction of the river, and bawled out to them: "Have you seen anything of a gentleman about here? Upon which then halted,:andone of them asked, "what sort of looking man dew yeou mean?" "Young man, abont thirty-three, ta ll, well made, and rather' handsome-dressed in black. "Tinyt , T I TRIE INORMr wAre you arig kir ofhi rP" ,: ;-, IPma ;lQoe rin , ell me, have yo":sQe hig "Wall,.I wanted w 'knov, who yeou arefirst, seei, asathere's ben foul play s'omewher. , KlEoul play.!" ;egcaim d Uc1p Jacob. :and , yy in a.b Wall ' relied the n , , "'rather, I gue. "Well, why don'.A ypu tellus where, he is? MVy name is Wiltpn" I, 'live near:here i, tile piasion above the rpad.; t's gentleman is our guest. Tell, , e, ayou been him " 'Yeou'll excuse pe ire, for pot: .nowin' yeou, forI kinder orter, seei'' as I supply yeou with, gh- "Certainlygeertainly, my friend, only tell us wh ;r we can find this gentleman" "Wall, squire, as I waa goin' along the bank to where I keep my boat,;goin' Bout fishing' , _sg e suddenly, by the starlight, I stumbled over his. body'- " "His-body! This was fatality!" '. ay be it way, but I can't say whether it, was him or not, bein- as1,didn'ts ee him.dewit. .But I -guess in the long shot "God bless; me!. iterrupte Uncle Jacob, wing tl eprspira_ tion:from his brpw, and .holdingg:uhis liatern to eta of th man'. face,'has'he unfortunate youfg raneen h again?" "Wall, I don't.k.nowabout - . nol'" epl h fe nan,, but I eaiculate ,h ieras rayther knodl6ed on the head. Yeon see, squire, as I was sayin'-eow long hiashe ben issin',squire? t;as the fAsherman hailed from'on".ecticut , gd was natirually of ning inturon pf in asking ,,five usio~s reverone answered, .ewll not permit our readers to ,became as ippatient asr inge gapob did, bt put these and"far-etwe n nwer in. tao eonect d f n. I{appeard t e ligherman1scovere Waltelyjpgtionh rournai i w :F. ; : ,,.; u d,,, anid rmadi ihe was ea( was ap top=ior"M ilennheryhear hi mutter "He 'l t end sheut 4not b ,4,and a oce. endeavordo restore " n after earlydrownghii w ait erwahe succeed in isco oa n .s a r 1i Q~cv~ aIter'residence p hilhe estedhimtomk im .vgo le, n-it t e rde e asast reoy hi qabtole, and4 tarte' ff to rocure assistant' inrmov z in him r .. , C e n reov~.g1m. yS Y { -1 5 3 { y q s y p¢3 jp t 7 r #Fp t tr r 5 t(( ill, page: 94-95[View Page 94-95] 94 TIM Oflii JGtG= MUTTON. He was just returning when Un1il'oetnit i ,sand sithe whole party ypro dedet&ethe pot wgther. tflaut Wilter tuld tistmf nlihuthe nthe spt *h ere hehad fallen , orny. where near, and as Uncle Jacob began.t nttai'n searat on vic it ahe hadk1de~u 1A*tedoxodtald"s i forrint lnidich- ed his followers o ihone and exit t ied Butat~wk of slena dhletd~irfig thI&ighW; sb gioos y 5rhoke.he tarted offagaii andhA- niyggeto eibite nie 6c IelitI tlelik bowers, he discovered 1%Wo!rping1g i a W6Afand .s np 1g juit!e daiilyda'thoughiohi_ at all 1 h ppe ed' fc.le Ja- cob's astonishment foundveniin, an lelanmat i uiFthat itii ritdy 'j ,uxd Whit Sth96a ks and start p. Th if oieod se, Uncle Jacob wanted to know what had been the naatte andd I6 d e Wlf s told hi",addig, niebii e rticillad his 16ve knehis (itexded luidd, No a atha1destfle~n no express his surprise in a still louder exclamdionl a1; bef o e Fi nally the elder man took the hand o fthe dunge and sho okitin a s y eg indi y',eliiig' iere Mas ofbeityaffor is/*des-. pairinban inT hisciht heing effled, Uncle Jacob net coi ill its filed t t'tellinw h Waltes):g ot into the abor upe Wnh'h& Wa tears tWi,{ha ig ri-tt restore tiyitai i hthhthe might asv1t ealk ads the litise, ehtf g d g iflari g ,h that 't~ lie u , o f , a 1 lbo ie c h till morn in g Bfa n&in 6ae 9 al11g9adIi lb~elde hdmssn- blia, Which was tou ht singulas'sh s Was kfit rodt& riserhat i E -ei ehea. ltt' f 'mMni se t Ad ; tatefd tab81as" dtabless whenAthey entered the eh'n ber. There 4vas ' ppeartnce of violence or constrained action=Tiently*a tio keen witted for tit but on1tie contrary rything seemed tof imply. a ipre.de- terinined and voluntary flight on the part of Isabel. Uncle. Jacob staggered to a chair, and covered his face sayii 'Ynou hae- de- seiedme, lsabel, again. I thoughtayoupore and4ighteousbtit I find you-..;F--" "Father!"interrupted Egeria, 'as you valu your own peace, gong;heriot by asingle:doubt. #iThere is;sohe strange myter in this, but believe me, father;, belie~v&an Isabelis giilties. Think, dear father, how many strange incidents have occurred to us of late, the stoppage of our carriage, the attack upon Mr. Wal.. terms, then let your own judgment-determine whetherthis new ca- Lnuity may not be another link of a fearful chain that fate is for- ging round us! Doubt not my cousin's honor, but rather think it is insulted, and at, oncetalke ,1neasures to accomplish her rescue and to avenge her iAjiri "Right, noble-minded girl!" cried Walters. Villany has been practiced here, and much is to be feared ; but to the loving hearts who wil cofaiine tlij rescue-her; apprehension-shoIud not share One instAntas thought rSirsir!;dismiskyourudbubtg, tef are insults to your niece, and eternal stains°upon ;your fwijehow' hen,sifoutlove i r ,AGT, not& J"of it"'i d vWomnan,-whovsuddenlydappeared'at -the open~ WiedQW. "inowr you;vhere-she its?"' asked. Uhle Jaob,.eagerlys "She'is in -aplace where all that-is :sha emd in life, ..hd ignos minions in death, await herifa she is not rosoued4instantly," replied the woman4 k ''a Walters sprang through the win ow and grasped her rn . "Tep me the plade'he'saIdf K' ir "The loalitylicadangerous ne ou#nayven ra k life." p hdwl irhats that{to .me?}ell mnI sy,' GiDaren-foo, me?a lwdAhewomas DaFteL ? s.ejaeulatejWalters, I yes and alone o 1ae hriepds here egard:their cornf oit before her. s fetr; g , el) "That taunt was quite gratuitous, i'eturnsd 'Unole Jcbb *arm+ I Iu I ] 94 i r #i [ page: 96-97[View Page 96-97] TIMO -lTUQO2WTTON. een shieuld 44eexi.t aiit dozh '-"it ime,' 4 geia, lb xdl s deolunly",,A ry,4 wa Qexlamed enhusia -. ticaly, 7 f ' 3 +t ~ _44 Y '4 j 4 4444 44 4 P ,a f Teuhyhoo a eh a th r' shands an°d. t sewoanJ.oo ked on with an exulting smile. .,., ' Ten min utes e# a,7 a riaec ii dDing $:rdoe Jacoh, ;'Walters, Harrypanx4 thee hiormer4_m ht :have bqn4 een,da hin'rapid Qln' the roati tear4e NW Yr E ' , , tx ' 4 t-41$ ra.'r' ax}"t ~ 44444' f t'4x4444444y444x444 44 44 n a J4P" t 4.';4n e 2- ' ,' 4S4, r .4 !4 4 44. sCC L fM, 4 4 4- 4 Y_ , 4wr- '4r44rr ty r - i - ju st 44 444 4 t 't4 4 e 4 a4s M ',/_t4f,4 44 4 tlTe odon '1re Mtl tero tho et eenhIeael n,.t etoyxiiein "Bene, wt i istldleeledncryin, tdo't se r him, mothr justl e hm rnrsh6sawimhe..ently ad4d44 rmied 44 4 44 t4e ghoeSome with Isabelou~lld, i his~m t tihe -.bhtathi4 ..d,.y differet " s~g.dH~mdistendae.t prcict h by4sol l hate e ln lveft h tec her aiid teheat e dsnroyhimyi yieldhel4owes. h awdhit ren toyha dter ined tb t'etei thavbenhlved n'"ii ohfl o o a eib s_,_d n. 14udr Yet he w as. He h!adnl Oe . ho dee44d achnprta. e.reai .VM1N~I~X6 ~97 Brvendo.yi tlpnfate ;,bekoat in& iifbstI' fr hit objeec o ' t ws nbPfa a b fbyanboy would yourerather, bold, yn'ing'tet 'hA ,id i t unlwolcily for both ~your sin ;t1 moth tatid ¢ Ii iO she e a ad Ilrfe nd ti dh er i db j Ishl e~iw ~ p~~aI x~ie4 e'~n~iplorigly, noit for 'herselt thisti ri, butt'fo~r 'e '{chilt.«Spr ihiri"'he dried, swearr that ,you will send him nha i medi ,mo1g hi ri n s, and I'll agree-_. _ ;" s~, r:.';: , "To become mine u enit il t ckfn A Iedgseme. s your husband?" die asted: ' "Yeti hesitate ' Then' the brat °hall 'die be.. fore your eyes."~ "No;,.no, Ido net tae, I 44. 4t ,, "Then decide 'intatly,"f fie d -the= villain;, advancing; , "oi're a bad nian,"f eaid thkdo*+e, for you've id , _Cbig story., this "pistol's 16ad'e , Ikno, ibyeuse I can't .bhQ~t4' t and: it'sa fll1:ready prri 'dI Tht' this Wfy Johh lns-regm You just comie, near rn ' ot ioth i', !ftnd sienow'f 1f' o't, sli(o~t Jyou."F. i M fS- s4 Brently grasped a chair, and would have crushed the bt~v, o with: if, had nt ~'oa stiangenoise 'a t tat.m~~~~ e ears-a edh4dw teodrjh nlO iL '~i f loxib1 2 a wearidgi4w 4eJ ig 1 ia ° rte ng e .t' tt "l d " towards the door. Then as he threw it open, 'he looI q4, as oyc r his shoulders and said jeeringly, "don't be. alar~tne4,,t , ,eise. It's nothing but. Qu 04)q x~l1 below: Still t46e better to # o inupt r I' a pe the trap,-,4 ]9 o ,n te nsa}ys that h ulda ' l one atte p ;to 4nte { oux beyas y a 4vx# dark out -thore, ;t heyfill;hav~e ,a oom tab a' the y r-llit , n nn; kn~owVhit'a ie about - - t; h s b F done .before twi f Y , *ka- -1t ttoesS.',,fie iot 'nfr tid., therefo ," a 4he tu PW'pnuta g 'at tdIeiti the, o6 4 ,i .: f.ti aa But there, before the'doe a4s t .p ose~li9 ~im or the pre.. - mkhs adght4;pale t eniW , and Brently's l podjf ai ¢ l'rd his brain swam at,ha~~~ {f; , dd~Ia~~oe his presence of mind, for Walters' at once. 6l'utc.,, dl"hitYh~tt 4) In a5 14 444 page: 98-99[View Page 98-99] 1~8 TIMOT Y + JTON. the vyetithlDing ~g~ tp~~ idred in 4he iqp tbu h + e4ti 4o'l& ps~ ~d ibpped apair ,of hadcffs upon the ruffian's wrists, instanter. And Brently si -b ", j t ,hy. ame'tietwoother Preb Wex ID e n 7 Jj ~ j el^,h R 1jjterd tk e room, soh Nit"-wef uI& e. s t wh.t galling, .mradden- i" igttti -o wt bl ia~jpoJeeJacp~b s out- utthds ~tigt q~~1i4pasn eaxven for its merc. An thn toseethe old manh lift up O rcvre o And: g~ei A~Q ","" Hdal ing being sb4 -o id7iu~4no, kit rown ht deligt it would have given Brently to -stab it through! ! "At last," exclaimed Walters; , kess~ng A4 .prostrate ?oe,. "at last we jme tas~es&i~mg ou. iYe~o m h~ a yer ~ ~ut~ cpkl ok ever that, were t,. not for ti aee' s'fyor ~ owr this Elady, Tpaxnyour mi e b 'eo 'e . engro i ggf aspenw e, yclose, deekds- her safety rf&thie =futu o . _o? to1 ozn..1yallfor letuntried. consistent with fair dealing, to accomplish 'so laudlahle "Ia lac ybumertioned fair kTh g," ,R turnd"teny,~o I n l't thikd yusuintended exeroigLnh a p on, ni& Be yettoo s nguine :of =tr ump !though rI may, perhaps is, ++ aWl1ahd tiilh1_ ' 7 t' t tT it -+ "Then Imay ' e} pro a 'itt e e : rnty.of 4r tPingby -hereinterpose i '"he hing' and the short. thi matter," said he , i&,Th1at if yu av ay iea of .givina' a AtirT F+e,4 got a i eg'lar ertWd"o down - t 4I, + rk ;iidi ,'that-I've, 'g:ot- a: hold on,-yoiu, once noloei'rs iyhrd iz7 in ha o lte ta g p q d edf somei isfottunate unfireseen, and no~talt~lylae:g }~ t d~e4M't zhd t h4, ) Fngi$'T_ ... -~ teo or -e, vmean-koke rmtil ~JcA, d,~pt ine hapd dva eed tow ardis t istrate' i" f{lan , r "Byne e claore aldingbots"le rnespl i ; tAeIi f tur.1 e, tn tl k , vnofiiirhangi g w. rd' , F het7! eri ," f 'nf a r hrd an' lookedh into GA ee iarm jt ai& r Sion ' o d e a d eawi tin ; "ihe u aie ik« rr u r "ashi -a lnusiglove} Ay rf!tis la's? Ask her p~dtoe 4hdyo~ wt herel. helldoso- ou~tes, o * h e n ici pa e7 tes l"in ceg I-tajsfsh' IBy ner puorte alludgoft,"he boysidhrtre ied (mde a simu q l rtteu s moveme t towards B' Irnx; aP oig 't~ anFIcn' llwi\ d hite ami mtog e to sl p etoui n and thai te- -log -eakdatheas asetrce 'o 'of ia iet. - -- : - te'm rbet e fser to rlae i. Heoe *p!1ta-6i I dP $ yi :do n sib-ii le " dot to"ofoe r any ysu i ,s hltj~ , }t en t a arme ' in c~ ha-elng 4e v, or r en ire1u1 U t A page: 100-101[View Page 100-101] TIM Gg BUTTON. 91 d n ENtIp see pd gtgd ttthe-p.- gphe short of the matter was, Tbakh'avet ri p eison toog, A r ypsailg hai4sBrently w hit a p1 ,}spIile og yf~ rjs n ' pycarrg-y "o tr nes. Tt Rlv01beth me j t a Ponditin ma t ena ?ed t ier child.A oqf tha Vrpof ggivg4o ugtw-here sta nds 13he07 oyP' Y nd no ryi proved o ot he ah aey beon n anid pf her 9wn1 free will.. There is aring uon the third nr ~yil take it clsorry t trob ~oW~bi~It i y7 5eiyt1 r -and egno move « Uncle Jacob almost unconsciduisly did a ~was ryecsted. he a7 ti Ikeny. "Vas itnot c 0 audjbe toie; - , r "Ad r sprovthe tch tookfrn her fger last night, aid as she placed it upon fine she said:s o with me you Aivrftake ft whbreyou please andt treatmda. ayou please, fo I iThdse gerbthemvery~words she made uisesb ori that terrible n bghty whien ashe ?Wa0 about toed husbatd'salouse'for ever, bit4e d .hoy ressTee itf e stretKi 5se fe int'ai chair dizz and sick, and feeling as though he as)tormented by soinehideou dUncie Jas'afeW sframnhcl eJacob'seyes,ed Harry covered hia vte. 1AWaltern todraimandi hmotionlesmlas LWstatu o E Toldian tettgedjtowardsIaabel anrd MAA#t down before hen Mrn y iageripdoL:whomiI ave lewed Miny owndahid, gyow4dnket(idNoyo~z swlurteurinnoenc,Thabe! myy datt4ughter.dibhpe~d- OBI ~NATIQlN. 101 ful plot, and all things seem to.combine to work my ruin. Take me from this place and I'll confess "Confess!" interrupted Uncle Jacob,'starting up. "What! Then you are guilty?" "No, no, no !" cried Isabel, wildly ; "before heaven I declare that I am innocent. But I cannot tell you hee. -Take me from this place-,-I stifle in it." "Hum!" muttered Brently, "false-hearted and fickle to the last. But you cannot deny your own words--you dare not" "Deny them!" exclaimed Uncle Jacob. "If he lies, say so, and fear him not, for he ii powerless now, and we are strong. Deny them, on the instant!" "I cannot," cried Isabel, "but not last night, no, no, 'twas not last night. Take me hence, and I'll tell you all. For your own sake-for mine-for my mother's, give me a private hearing." "Did you speak those words, and voluntarily?" "I did! I did! but hear me, father, I implore-.--~--" "Peace ! exclaimed the too sternly honest man, "peace, and hear me.- Between you and my own child, I never made distinction. As a sacred trust from my dying sister I received you, so with a fa-' ther's doting fondness I looked upon you both, and like young vines you twined about the heart that fostered and protected you. I thought you good and innocent, but I find you--it does not mat. ter what, for now we behold each other for the last time on earth!" "No, no! father, father " "Go, Isabel, goI If you respect your mother's memory plunge no further into wickedness, but make your peace with Heaven while there is yet time." The inflexible old man turned towards the door, throwing her oft when she attempted to detain him. "Mother, mother," ried the bewildered boy, "what's the mat- ter? Don't weep so, mother! And tears glistened in Walters' eyes as he said "Fear not, poor boy, her wrongs shall ere long be made apparent ; but come what will, you and If'at least, will not desert her. -r I c;194 page: 102-103[View Page 102-103] loft TIMO-IY 'TVGG,-MtTTON. . -A DISCOVERY. .,.,103 CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRSTS t YA": )~iY iWY r. The figure of Caroline standing in the doorway opposed Uncle Jacob's exit.Y "What does this'mean ?'"she asked. "All grave faces here excepthis, when his should e overcast and yours all joyous!". Isabel ran to her eagerly and said, "disprove what this villain has asserted, or I anlost .forever." Has he dared to assert aught against you ?" asked Garoline. "If you can disprove it," interposed Uncle Jacob, "an old mnan' blessing ,shall be yours." Bi-ently'instantly cormprehended all, and-he silently cursed himni.. self for allowing Caroline to ensnare him thus, yet he hoped to baf-= fle her again 'U a N "She will be a fair witness against me," he said, "inasmuch as she is a former mistress whom I cast ,off because she was a very fiend intemper,-and sought, -in a -drunken fit, to ro] and murder me-. For -this she }swore that she would bring; me tp the gallows, no matter what means he ,'took, and for this end accused me of a rime :of wioh I was truly innocent. ,Bad .as I am, the charge was by Par too modstrods,.s they dimissedit;,for. she could not prove it. She isthe woiman-whoccarped{wof the boy and would have killed him in-coldj biood, had not a friend of nine torn him}fromiher grasp, and left him where he knew he would be er ed ;for." ar!" cried Carolnetwas I thatgave information to this of- flcer; and Iwould:have restored the child had not- " "Aha!" interrupted Brently. "You hear s ieconfesses being the cause of my arrest ,and Iappealto the officer whether she did not then again attempt to murder me'" . was kinder mie4 p," answered MrDi in a cogdes-. cendin g tone, "for she sorter took you the throttle and throwed ,you under the wehigle, whereas ou--.-" "To save-myself, I woundedlher," cried Brentl "That was natural. I need say no more. If you deeim.wonuan,} who, for fifteen years, has almost daily perpetrated crimes, the worst among our gang would not have dared commit-to be capable of one. sin- gle action untinged by selfishness and second Jhought:; you are welcome to believe her." "We shall discuss that point hereafter," said Caroline, with a glance of withering enmity. "At present I merely wish to hear the charges against this lady, in order that I may refute them." "Then tell me how he came by her wedding ring,!,' asked Un- cle Jacobi "That I know not, but the presumption is that he stole it off her finger. Thieving is his trade." "Presumption ?" muttered Brently. "Presumption-is not refu- tation." "Uncle;," cried Isabel, "once more I assert my innocence, and call upon you to hear me." "Heaven knows how willingly I would believe it, but after your own admissions, what am I to think ?" asked Uncle Jacob., "He says you fled with him voluntarily; that you promised to be his, and becdie h;is,and although you tell me you' are innocent, you do not even attempt the denial of his accusations." "Then I'll deny them for her," exclaimed Caroline. "She, was dragged here by force in a stunned and ,senseless state, and when after her recovery; he returned, 'twas Ithat received him in this chamber,,while she remained in yonder one ! You still look mere- dulous. Am I not believed? It would be, singular if you were," said Brently, "shef you deny what:she, the interested party, has already confessed "'Tis false ! naught had she to confess, cried Caroline. "But in order that your alimniations may at onde fall powerless,'I'll now divulge a secret which I hoped would go with me to the grave. Subtile as. you are, Jack, you have overreached yourself. You knew not when you first placed 'e inher serving to aid you in your designs,'that in early life we two had been as sisters. But five ears of wrotehedness had changed me greatly and she knew me not, yet my love for her remained the same, and I would have pe- rished sooner than see herharmed.. I saved her then and last night I shielded her again. Look, Jack, at tht abused old man. You e ... . . page: 104-105[View Page 104-105] 104 TIMOTHY TUGG MUTTON. d6 hdt' know him,?yepit vas kisdaghter you decoyed from school and brought down to a level with the:vilest of her sex. Can any one suppose, degraded though I am, that-during tthe first hours ofi our meeting after the long and repentent years I've spent, I'd dare give utterance to a lie to deceive the kind, indulgenmai who was ink father?": All within the room, except Theodore and th mpenetrable Eingby, started with surprise "I, your father!" exclaimed Uncle Jacob, doubtfully, for when he sawher lasts she was a younggay, emnentllvel gzri ure as an opening lily, and joyous as a bird. .N'ow, what was she. An out- cast, a self-despised wretch, a mere branded wreck. No wondet- tidedJacob doubted. "I was your daughter, but long ago that claim was forfeited. Do you remember' placing a jewelled ring upon my finger the day you left me at the seminary, and telling me 'twas my mother's gift ? See, it remains upon that finger still, but like me, its purity has faded,'the diamond hia been lost, and now'-tis worthless! There lies'the an who robbed you of a daughter, and sent that daughter's mother mourning to the grave. There .lies the man who would steel another loved one from you and make her infamous and wretch- ed as he did me. -Credit his assertions if you will; t'would be a glo- rious triumph could he break her heart, as he did mine and my poor dead mothers." nadmpo "No, no," cried Unole Jacob, "my eyes are opened. I have wronged hei, and I -bow with humility and shame before her. Isa- bel, can you forgive my cruelty?" "First let us leave this place," she said, "and after I have ex- plained away the things which now seem stains upon me, I will forgive you, father, on condition that you receive back your erring but repentant daughter, Tbr she; has atoned for all by her genero- 'sity to me." "Receive her !" exelaime4 Uncle Jacob. "I will provide for her, and place her above the reach of want ; but I never more can look upon her as a daughter." "Nor do Ihope for that," interposed Caroline, "or wish it. 'My term of years hay nearly slipped away ; and now that I feel life drawing to its close, I would not be the cause of shame to any one. All I ask is, that I may sometimes, be remembered as I was, ere ruin overtook rhe; and that my father will look upon my crimaes with a more lenient eye when he has heard I am no more. But with yo,"r she continued, turning to Brently, "I have not done as yet!" 105 "No,'-,heuanswered, "we have a long account to settle, an shall meet again.n "Twice! twice!" exclaimed his victim, "once at the bar of Just- ice, next at the scaffold's fodt ! I have sworn it, and will keep my oath ! Isabel, my cousin, you are saved-and, from this moment, will be secure, at least, from him. Father, we now meet for the last timeon' earth. Forget that ive been criminal, but remember who it was that made me so. I would say more, but dare not- fareweil forever." "s ay, Stay c tried the old man, "I forgive you, Caroline ; the past shall be forgotten; you shall be my daughter still!" .Butshe was gone. CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND. Mr. Dingby's merry men, having disposed of the prisoners cap.. tured below, now came upstairs to assist in the removal of Brent- ly. The ruffian's last expedient had failed. A short time after this, a delicious reunion took place at the lit- tle rural paradise above the road, and all, save Uncle Jacob, seem- ed gay and happy, For he was oppressed by a double care, the disgrace of his lost daughter, and the shame of having doubted the honor of his niece. Yet he was anxious to hide his .feelings, and so endeavored to look cheerful and happy too, and would break suddenly into fits of laughter, mostly at times when nothing what- ever had occurred to laugh at. Then he would look as a man al- ways does, after attempting to do something to amuse a company, and making an awkward mess of it. Finally, unable to endure this self-torture longer, he declared by way of an excuse to get away, that he must really show Theodore the grounds ; and Isabel hav- ing given her consent, the elderly gentleman grasped the youthful gentlemIan's hand, and fairly dragged him from the room. After which, Isabel and Walters, Egeria and Harry, maintained a general conversation for a while, but It, soon flagged for lack .of interest. Upon which Egeria declared that this ways ver stupidd, and that she believed she would go' help father to ow Theodore the grounds and Harry -said that he would be delighted to help her to I IF I I LOVE. t a r -, 3 t 7 page: 106-107[View Page 106-107] t i0s TIMOTHY TUGO MUTTON. help father, and so, b tmut al cnsent, they sttd df. 1t trnth eat pels ,us to Y ay that, they di4dn'Vt show the sig htest ine ination: to h fter e th left the.room, but walked immediately to the little trellis bower, which was the. scene of the interesting conversation recorded in our eifteenth chapter, and seated them- selvewithin it. Having posed this bit of dupliity, we will re-enter the draw- ing-room, and see-Walters kneeling at the feet of Isabel! "Ah,;sabel,",he said, "the love 1' bore for you in days gone by, through want and..avery, through dangers, through weal and woe, has been the foremost-feeling of my heart: With my years it has increased, with each effort to efface it from my memory it has tak- en firmer hold, and the dreams of youth have become the life- hopes of my maturer years. Send me not forth again a lonely wanderer to perish among strangers, but let me look upon you in that blessed light that cheered me in my dreams, and.gi-ant me a realization of the entrancing vision. Be mine, Isabel, as you once promised, and let us both forget that years of misery have inter- vened between that day and this." "As I once promised," she repeated in a trembling tone. "Yes, Isabel. Have you forgotten the playmate of your child- iood, who- grew up with you,-and each day learned to love you siore and more ? Have you forgotten how we used to ramble to-. gether through the valleys and over, the hills around- our native glace, and hio we vowed that we would never separate? Have y6u forgotten 'how, spite of these vows, you allowed yourself to be.- come estranged from me, and cast me off to marry a man you did not love." "Nay, do not reproach meyfor I have suffered deeply for my faults, and have endeavored to atone for them. Oh, George, forget the inconstancy which. causedaay own heart, as well as yours, so eeia p nd if till now I have not fully recognized you, as- ribe to you hanged apearance, and your assumption of an- tther nte.".Azn oIt" wasethe name of the' relative whose wealth I have inherited - wa-it sacondition of his will'that I should take it. But if I have lived in ybiir thoughts as Arlinghain; so call me still, for to possess your love :would be to possess the greatest wealth the world coul temp t 'de ith." ' George,. loved you dearly 'when' 1eG 't seemedd to care for you. I love youaw; heaven and my own heart alone can tell how 'eish the remembrance of the past, for now a sun goes up I CONCLUSION. 107 that will eradiate the future, and never set again. Oh, transport At -last, dear Isabel, Ican call youlmine:"p "No, George, for the very reason that Hove you thus, I must nt be your wife. You bear an untarnished name, and I a blacken- , one. .I have been accused-most wrongfullyut )s true-yet I have been -dishonored by that very accusation;, and therefore will not link my fate with yours to hide my tarnishedfamne beneath the cloak of:wedlock." "Your innocence has been already proved. Twas ever clear to me, and now 'tis clear to all." "Think you so ? And, could you wed me as I am, without one doubt, without one feeling of suspicion?" "Without a doubt-without suspicion! Yes, Isabel, for Ihaveno do4ibt, and could niot have, and were all the people of the world combined tocharge you with dishonor, a simple derjial from your lips would far outweigh their calumnies. "Then, George, I.will be yours. I'll prove myself deserving of your love, and by my unswerving fidelity in the future amo atone for my fickleness in the past." amply Then, for the first time since childhood, their arms encircled etch other, and their lips met, and the bliss of that moment drove Care forever from their presence, And thus it was that the True Heart whom for his poverty, in earl life, she had cast off and sent wandering about the world, at len t reached that elysian goal, to which, throughout his life, his bright- est wishes tended. And the promise that she made was verified, for she indeed proved worthy of his love, C O N C L, U S I O No The miscreant Brently suffered the extreme penalty of the law, and the oath of Caroline, was carried' to a fearfltl confir "aton She met him twice after the morning of his arrest as she had said s eerwould-.-the first time, in the crowded court room,' as his ac- cuser, the la:t time at the scaffold's foot. But his death struggles ,were not witnessed by her, for when she, saw , iim. mount, the steps and heard the last boom of the prison bell, her feelings e a change, and she became mad again, hopelessly,, irrevocably mad. Andel tey nt her home to her friends, dU Jadob applied himself to watching her every movement a iuld have never ed litlechid',sever trusting,, er Cliomis ihtad*ee '4 t ,tzr page: 108-109[View Page 108-109] ' IMOT t!TUG MCCNUTTON* heening eried, And ft ear, s jdpesie ed, the kd mandollowed her the ~ra wiout a tear, nbuthe never more was see ni There neit tada Wnhabrity befr e agspcnet his earlyfriend, John Perkir s-for the eiiSperea of, ta Iihad quite forgotten in which direction JiW asb teb found. -ut it so happened that the paternal Scraggand histrjinchildrenhaving bepoine tired of a leountry-life, removed tp New Yok,where one very slippery moving; Theadre andh arey tinbinpon and recognized .each other. Of(coursether e' a deali6f rejoicing ver the event aid deal of visiting each other'sfaxiMl1es; and a deal e ea ntual coingratulation. And then Theodareroote honestt John, telling his of his altered circumstances, and assirngh giin that he would run up to visit hin soon ; though he'wassonievhatad bioius about knowinglinkville again, now that it odntaine~thirt houses, and had its name changed. ut John was so pairti early delighted 4t hearing from him, that he immediately took his rife, and a larg4iair trurk, and started oftvith them fox'the city,:lesav. ing the ret ,f his femity (there Were five young Perkinse "ow) at home; ) another erie of rejoicings, and visitings, a nd mutual eingratA ains was co, lsequent upon his arrival'., And be orre John left town he noticed, that ourher6,had4 very great partiaity fothe scety of Charley's preff sitser, Ueia apn hewinked knowingly, a d told Charley confide ticall in the yresense of Theodore, that hd 'bette- take care or he'd lose her. And Charley merely laughed, though he h adn't t±esiightet be- lief in the assertion, for he was very cunniig and deep in hisway, and very simple-hearted, and very honest in all his intentions ,was ; Charley So he never said;a word aboutit, until, initheduepourse of time, Theodore-after having a long private"conversation with Celia, and, a shorter one with the eldr Serag-asked him if he would have any objection to takehim as a brotherin-law? Then Chre mphatically declared that he wol4t umpovferthe jOuse ajyYtoo see him marry "Sis ;" though-.w h + dore Aiged at this ixse the day after the ceremony took$ Gcestr i g to say Chariy had a pressing engagement down town, andseeuld t pare tim4 to peform the feat. An{ ; i:h w3readr, our characters are alt disposed of, and all thm We eeinerested in are happyand quite ntent-There .o enTtheng further em ia for u to *ay cng iA4 M 9 at i , ;3; L b -, J w & " . 1',x . ! 1" + A : q w 1. , ,r , "" t a'"rtk .,r a J .'+ r' t t I
