igij 
 a ' . -
 
 OLD HA UN. 
 
 THE PAWNBROKER,
 
 OLD HAUN.
 
 OLD HAUN, 
 
 THE PAWNBROKER 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE ORPHAN'S LEQACY. 
 
 2. &alt of NtJn gorfe, jFountoft on 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 RUDD & CARLETON, 
 
 810 BROADWAY. 
 1857 
 
 V 

 
 EHTIRSD according to Act of Cnngress, in the year 1856, by 
 LIVER MORE & RUDD, 
 
 In the Clerk'i Office of the District Court of the Unitd Statei for the Southern DijKit of New 
 
 PRINTED BT R. CRAIGHBiDl 
 
 Carton 33uirt>tng, 
 
 81, 83, and 85 Centre Slree..
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Little Family The Miniature Anna Hervey and Mich Lynch visit the Pawn- 
 brokerTheir Interview The Result The Bank-note Its value The sorrowing 
 Wife, 9 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 Old Haun gloats over his Prize Cornell calls Borrows Fifty Dollars Receives a 
 Letter from New Orleans and a Draft for $500 Anna and Mich selling 
 Matches, 34 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Sick Husband The Wife seeks a Physician The Assault and Rescue Doctor 
 Foster Death of Edward Hervey The Fatherless Child The Doctor's Plans 
 The new Home of Mrs. Hervey and Anna, 50 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 
 The Search Cornell again visits the Pawnbroker Haun exhibits the Miniature 
 The excitement of Cornell The Offer Haun finds Mich The Search for Anna 
 Mich and Doctor Marsh The Schemes of Cornell The Bargain The Bond, . 81 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The Guardian The Story of Mrs. Hervey The Promise of Dr. Foster Bridget, the 
 Servant A welcome Christmas The pleasure of Doctor Foster, . . . 116 
 
 \ 
 
 20P071 7 

 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Cornell writes to New Orleans Receives a Reply The News Visits Haun Cor- 
 nell repents of the Step taken Leaves for New Orleans The Will of Leonard- 
 Cornell takes possession of the Property The Obligation Haun's Letter The 
 Reply Mich meets Foster Visits Anna The Mystery, 184 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 The Mother and Daughter The Clergyman The Prayer The Departed Affliction 
 of Anna, 161 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Haun receives Cornell's Letter His Resolution Meets Mich The proposed Meet- 
 ingThe Result The Suspicion of Dr. Foster Haun calls at the House of Dr. 
 Foster Interview with Anna Doctor Foster excited Visits the Surrogate, . 174 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Doctor Foster calls upon Haun His Threat Returns Home The Vow of Haun 
 Again meets Mich Mich informs Doctor Foster The Plan The Plot of 
 Haun, 197 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Mysterious Disappearance Effect of Haun's Letter Cornell, reckless, lives in 
 Extravagance Haun receives Cornell's Reply Dr. Foster visits Mr. Pierce, the 
 Lawyer The Doctor, on his return, finds Anna absent Ofiers a Reward The 
 Search The Doctor's Despair Relates the Circumstances to Mr. Pierce His 
 Advice The Sheriff visits Haun's Shop The Premises Searched Mich's Disco- 
 covery Searching the Ship Anna Found Escape of Haun, .... 217 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The Crowd around the Pawnbroker's Shop Destruction of the Premises The Tool 
 of Haun He returns to his Shop The Arrest The Bribe and Release Gets on 
 Board of a Vessel bound to Havana Escapes from the City, .... 243 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Joy of Anna The Doctor places her with his Friend, the Clergyman Con- 
 sults his Lawyer Mich Occupies a new Situation Doctor Foster and Anna visit 
 the Country Mr. Pierce and his Student, .262 

 
 CONTENTS. Vll 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The News from New Orleans Mr. Pierce writes again Haun Arrives in New 
 Orleans Haun calls upon Cornell The Interview The Encounter The Blow 
 The attempted Escape The Pursuit The Capture Confession of Cornell, . 284 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Haun in Prison Attempts to Escape Alarm of the Jailer Death of Haun Dr. 
 Foster obtains the Property Anna is placed at School Edward Kandall The 
 two Students, 803 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Noon-Day of Life Anna's Eighteenth Birth-Day The Party Its Results The two 
 Young Men, 812 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Snaring the Bird The Horseback Ride The Protestations of Edward Randall The 
 Engagement Doctor Foster Disapproves, . 884 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Clouds and Shadows Randall with his Companions The Midnight Brawl Benson 
 meets Mich Informs him of the Night's Scene The Sleepless Night, . . 353 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Pressing the Siege Dr. Foster's Suspicions Randall urges the Day of Marriage 
 The Quarrel, 371 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Trailing the Fox Doctor Foster consults his Lawyer Mr. Pierce engages Mich in 
 the Scheme Seeks Benson Their Walk Mich communicates to Mr. Pierce In- 
 formation obtained Randall invites Anna to ride The Recognition His 
 Employer The Check and Cash Books The Discovery, . . . 393 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Setting the Trap The Mystery Randall importunes Anna Hervey Leaves In 
 Anger, .414
 
 Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The Expose Mich's Discovery His Anxiety The Letter and Reply Doctor Fos- 
 ter communicates Important Information 429 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Hearts United Disappearance of Randall Anna's Twentieth Birth-Day The 
 Engagement The Wedding-Day The successful Attorney 446
 
 OLD HATJN THE PAWNBROKER 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 
 
 UPON a miserable bed, in a small attic room in one of the 
 crowded thoroughfares of New York city, lay Edward 
 Hervey. 
 
 The cheerful sunlight streaming in through the narrow 
 window, and the gradually increasing tumult and bustle of 
 life far below, told the sufferer that another night of rest- 
 lessness and pain had passed. 
 
 By his side sat an untiring watcher, his fond and devoted 
 wife. It was her hand that bathed his brow and put the 
 cup to his parched lips. Cold water was 'all that she could 
 offer him. 
 
 Not a morsel of food was there of any kind. Through 
 the long and weary hours of the night had she sat patiently 
 
 1*
 
 10 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBEOKEK. 
 
 by him, soothing, caressing, and comforting him. While 
 herself enduring the cruel pangs of hunger, she had given to 
 her only child, who now lay sleeping upon her little bed in 
 the opposite corner of the room, the last crust of which she 
 was possessed. The child slept calmly, forgetful of the want 
 and destitution which surrounded her. 
 
 There was a small stove in the room, but it was cold. 
 The little food they had been able to obtain needed no fire 
 to prepare it. It was yet in mild October, and the cheerless 
 prospect of winter with its chilling winds and bitter cold was 
 still before them. 
 
 Upon one side of the low room, and almost touching the 
 ceiling, stood a bureau. It was of mahogany ; the fashion 
 and workmanship were old, and told the tale of altered for- 
 tunes told that this now destitute family had once enjoyed 
 all the comforts and luxuries of wealth. It ill accorded with 
 the small deal table, and the common wooden chairs two 
 of which in addition to the other articles constituted the 
 whole of the furniture of the cheerless room. But notwith- 
 standing the appearance of extreme poverty, there was an air 
 of neatness pervading the whole. 
 
 The sick man moved restlessly, and soon awoke from his 
 unquiet sleep. Opening his eyes he grasped with his own 
 thin and almost transparent hand, that of his wife, and 
 said 
 
 " Mary, my dear wife, this cannot last long, God grant 
 for your sake it may not." 
 
 She clasped convulsively his hand, and with all of a
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 11 
 
 woman's tenderness and devotedness in her manner and 
 voice, exclaimed : 
 
 " Edward, do not say that, what have I to live for after 
 you are gone ? If you only had some nourishing food, I 
 know you would be better." 
 
 " Mary," said he, " do not even hope that I can be any 
 better. It is vain to think so, for I am conscious that I am 
 rapidly failing. Do not despair. Remember that Anna will 
 have none left but you when I am gone. Poor child ! God 
 protect both you and her. I little dreamed, Mary, when you 
 became my wife that .1 should leave you thus ;" and the poor 
 man turned his head away to hide the tears that sprung to 
 his eyes. 
 
 For a moment they were both silent ; then he turned to 
 her and said : 
 
 " Is Anna asleep yet ?" 
 
 " Yes ; but I must awaken her, for you must have some- 
 thing to eat, and I cannot leave you." 
 
 "But you have no money, what will you do ?" asked he, 
 sighing deeply. 
 
 " No, Edward ; I have none, but there is that miniature 
 of my mother, I can sell that, or perhaps pawn it," and the 
 tears gushed forth at the thought of parting with this last 
 relic of former happiness. It had been retained until she 
 had disposed of every thing else except the old bureau, 
 "which was worth but little ; but she confidently expected 
 that the miniature, being elaborately mounted and finished, 
 would bring a considerable sum. 

 
 12 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 Rising, she went to the little bed in the corner, and bend- 
 ing over, parted the brown hair from off her child's forehead 
 and kissed her, saying : 
 
 " Anna ! darling ! come, jump up, and go and get some 
 bread for poor sick papa." 
 
 The child rose quickly and quietly, throwing her small 
 arms about her mother's neck, crossed the room and laid her 
 tiny hand upon her father's cheek, and kissed him, saying : 
 
 " Does papa feel better now ?" 
 
 Mr. Hervey turned his sunken eyes upon her for a moment, 
 gazed into her face without speaking, and then with a voice 
 trembling with emotion, said : 
 
 " God bless you, my darling, I shall soon be better, I 
 shall soon be out of pain. But is not my Anna hungry ?" 
 
 "No ! no !" said Anna, quickly turning to her mother, 
 " but, mother, help me fasten my dress, and I will go and 
 get papa some bread." 
 
 The poor child looked eagerly into her mother's face, 
 knowing that she had spent the last sixpence for bread the 
 day before, and wondered how they were to buy any now. 
 
 Then she thought perhaps there is something else to sell, 
 for she had been sent out repeatedly of late to dispose of 
 some small article of furniture or of wearing apparel, or 
 some ornament, till she knew of nothing remaining to thern\ 
 which they could spare. And as her eye glanced around the 
 room she unconsciously gave utterance to her thoughts. 
 
 " There's nothing but the bureau left, we don't need that 
 now, as we have no clothes to put in it."
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 13 
 
 Mr. Hervey sighed, and turned his eyes away from his 
 child, for this was the hardest of all his trials. To see his 
 dearly loved and cherished one, so young and innocent, suffer 
 for food while he had none to give. To see, day by day, the 
 frail barriers breaking away between them and utter starva- 
 tion, was too much for him to bear, and he groaned in agony 
 of spirit. 
 
 " Papa, dear papa, are you in pain ?" asked Anna, 
 tenderly. 
 
 " My darling Anna, what is to become of you, and your 
 poor mother when I am gone ?" 
 
 " Papa, don't feel bad," said Anna, while the scalding 
 tears were streaming down her pale cheek, " I can work. I 
 will take care of mamma. I am going to-day to see if the 
 man in the basement will let me seh 1 some matches for him. 
 He asked me one day if I would like to sell them, and then I 
 could earn some money, and buy you nice things to eat." 
 The recital of her little plans had already cheered her 
 affectionate heart and dried her tears. 
 
 " Well, Anna ! you may try," said her mother, " but you 
 must not be disappointed if you do not succeed, for remem- 
 ber you are but a little girl and not yet accustomed to the 
 rough ways of the world." 
 
 " Why, mother, I am almost ten years old, and I have 
 seen little girls and boys selling matches, who were not 
 nearly as large as I," said Anna, glancing into her mother's 
 face, to observe the effect of her remark. 
 
 " Very well, Anna, you may try to-day, but first I want
 
 14: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 you should go to the grocery where you bought that bread 
 yesterday, and ask the grocer if he will let you have a loaf, 
 and tell him you will bring the sixpence to pay for it by and 
 by ; for I must go out and see if I can get some money. I 
 have that locket and may be able to dispose of it : I must 
 try, if you do not succeed in selling any matches, but if you 
 can get trusted for a loaf until to-morrow, then I will wait, 
 for I would prefer to keep the picture of my own dear 
 mother if possible. Will you go, Anna ?" 
 
 " Yes, mother, I will go, but I am afraid he will not let 
 me have any bread without money," she xeplied hesitatingly. 
 
 " You can try, my daughter, you have never asked him to 
 trust you, and he surely will not be so hard-hearted as to 
 refuse us credit for one day." 
 
 Anna immediately left the room and had been gone but a 
 very few minutes, when she rushed in again. Kunniug to 
 her mother, she buried her face in her lap, and burst into a 
 violent fit of weeping. 
 
 " My dear girl, what is the matter ? He would not let 
 you have any bread, would he ? Well never mind, darling, 
 don't cry so. We have the locket left yet, and that will 
 bring bread for to-day at least. We may never know to- 
 morrow. Cheer up, Anna," said Mrs. Hervey, raising the 
 tearful face of her child, and imprinting a tender kiss upon 
 her forehead. 
 
 " Anna come here to me and tell me what the grocer said 
 to you," said Mr. Hervey, extending his hand towards her. 
 
 Anna went to her father's side, and then answered.
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 15 
 
 " He was so cross and spoke so loud that he frightened 
 me, and I hardly know what he did say." 
 
 " Why, my dear girl, cannot you remember anything that 
 passed ? What did you say when you went in ?" 
 
 " I stood by the counter while he gave a man some tea ; 
 after the man left, he turned to me and said, ' I suppose 
 you want some bread, and then he took a loaf and held it 
 towards me, and I said I have not got any money this morn- 
 ing but I will bring it this afternoon," and then he got 
 angry, and swore, and said he couldn't support all the poor 
 in the city ; that he had to pay for his goods, and wasn't 
 going to give them away ; and there was something too, 
 about cheating and stealing, which I do not remember, for I 
 was so frightened I could not tell him I would surely bring 
 the money, but ran away as fast as I could." 
 
 " Cruel cruel man to deny us, starving as we are, one 
 small loaf of bread," groaned Mr. Hervey, as he turned his 
 face to the wall, and drew the scanty covering over him to 
 hide his emotion. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey approached, saying, " Edward do not let this 
 trouble you, I will go now and sell this locket," looking at 
 one she held in her hand. 
 
 " Mother, mother, let me go," interrupted Anna, eagerly, 
 "I know where there is a pawnbroker's shop. I saw one 
 yesterday, right round the corner on Chatham Street." 
 
 "How do you know, Anna, that it is a pawnbroker's 
 shop ?" 
 
 " Why, Mich Lynch told me so."
 
 16 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Pray who is Mich Lynch ?" 
 
 " He is that little Irish boy, who helps me bring the water 
 up stairs ; he is a good little boy, mother. He don't go with 
 those children that live down stairs," said Anna, hoping by 
 this explanation to secure her mother's approbation of the 
 acquaintance. For Mrs. Hervey had endeavored as much as 
 possible to prevent Anna's associating with the vile children 
 that thronged the neighborhood to which their poverty had 
 condemned them. 
 
 " Very well! Anna; he is at least kind to assist you; but 
 the next tune he comes up with you, bring him in, so that 
 I may see him, and judge for myself. But how do you 
 know that it is a pawnbroker's shop ?" 
 
 " Mich said it was. He went there and took a shawl of 
 his mother's, and got ever so much money for it. I did not 
 go in, for I was afraid to, but I stood on the steps outside 
 the door ; and I saw the three balls over the door. That 
 is the sign, Mich said." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey did not answer for a few moments. Her mind 
 was occupied with bitter thoughts, and she sighed deeply 
 to think that her child should thus early learn so much of 
 life's misery and sorrow ; but she was aroused by her hus- 
 band remarking : 
 
 " Mary, let Anna go don't you leave me she can get the 
 little Irish boy to go with her, if she is afraid to go alone ; 
 for I must have something to eat. Go, Anna ! and hurry 
 back, but don't let the man frighten you. He will not dare 
 to hurt you."
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 17 
 
 Anna took the locket from her mother's hand and went 
 slowly down the stairs and into the crowded street. She 
 stood for a moment looking about, to see if she could get a 
 glimpse of her Irish friend, but not seeing him she walked 
 along for several blocks towards the pawnbroker's shop. 
 Suddenly she stopped ; the repulse of the morning returned 
 vividly to her mind, and she could not approach a step 
 nearer to the dreadful place. Turning back, she ran with 
 her utmost speed, and without stopping or turning, until 
 she reached the alley in which her friend Mich lived, and 
 there she stopped to compose herself ; and then, mastering 
 courage, inquired of a rough-looking woman near, 
 
 "Mich Lynch! does he live here ?" 
 
 " Indade I an' what if he does, ye little spalpeen ? D'ye 
 think so dacent a boy as Mich would be afther wasting his 
 tune in playin' wid sich a sickly-lookin' crathur as ye are ?" 
 
 " I don't want to play," said Anna, trembling with fear at 
 the rough voice and manner of the woman. 
 
 " Ye naden't look so frightened ; I'm not going to ate 
 ye. Go along in there wid ye, if it's Mich ye are wanting. 
 He's asy enough to find widout looking in the Directhory," 
 said the woman, at the same time pointing to the narrow 
 entrance. 
 
 Anna followed the direction, and tapping gently at the 
 door, a pleasant voice bade her " come in." She opened 
 the door, and there, sitting upon what was intended for a 
 bed, was a young and rather delicate-looking female, en- 
 deavoring to hush a sickly and emaciated infant, which she
 
 18 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 held in her arms, by rocking herself to and fro. Not an 
 article of furniture was in the room. A large, iron-bound 
 deal box, or chest, stood in a corner, which, together with 
 the bed on which she sat, were the only objects that met 
 Anna's eyes, as she gazed around in search of Mich. 
 
 The woman noticed her inquiring look, and asked : 
 
 " Was it Mich you were looking after ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am ; I was told that Mich, lived here, and I 
 want to see him a minute." 
 
 " Well, sit down on the chest, and wait a bit. He will 
 be here directly. What might ye be after wanting of 
 Mich ? Are ye the little girl that lives in the next street ?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. I live upstairs in the big house. My 
 father is very sick, and my mother gave me this to go and 
 get some money. I was afraid to go alone, and have come 
 to see if Mich would go with me." 
 
 The woman said no more, but gave her whole attention 
 to the child in her arms. Anna quietly awaited the arrival 
 of Mich. She did not wait long, however, for soon he came 
 running into the room, all out of breath, and going to his 
 mother, laid a loaf of bread and a piece of cheese hi her 
 lap, saying : 
 
 " There's the nice breakfast for ye. Now jist give Jouny 
 a piece of that beautiful bread and he'll whist won't you, 
 Jonny, darlint ?" then turning, he spied Anna, and said, 
 
 " Anna Hervey I and why did you come here ? Did you 
 want me ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mich ; I came to see if you would go with me to
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 1.9 
 
 the store where you took your mother's shawl," said Anna, 
 going to him and speaking softly. 
 
 An' sure I will ; but what have ye got to sell ?" 
 
 " This locket." 
 
 " Sure, it's a beautiful one. Is it gould 1" 
 
 " Yes, pure gold, mother says. The man ought to give 
 me a good deal of money for it ; it cost a great deal ; and 
 besides, it's the picture of my grandmother." 
 
 "Och! it's not that he'll care for, but it's the gould that'll 
 warm his heart towards ye." 
 
 ' ' Can you go with me now, Mich ? I must hurry," said 
 Anna ; and her eyes were fixed on Jonny, who sat greedily 
 devouring his bread. 
 
 Mich glanced up from the glittering ornament in his hand, 
 and observing the direction of Anna's eyes, read at once 
 their meaning ; and, with a delicacy prompted by the kind- 
 ness of his heart, went and broke off a large piece of the 
 loaf he had given his mother, and put it into Anna's hand, 
 saying : 
 
 " Niver doubt the honest gintleman '11 keep us waiting 
 long enough; he'll niver hurry himself till he sees the glitter 
 of gould, and ye'll sure be hungry, so ate this bit as fast as 
 iver ye can." * 
 
 Without waiting for a reply he turned to his mother, and 
 said : 
 
 " I'll be back by the time ye and Jonny have finished the 
 nice bread," and started, taking Anna by the hand, but 
 before he could leave the room, his mother called him saying:
 
 20 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Mich my boy, are ye goin' widout atin' a bit ? Sure 
 ye'll be starvin' if you stay out long." 
 
 " No ; not a whit, not a crumb, ye'll ate it all yourself. 
 I'll not starve at all. Indade, and I couldn't ate if I should 
 thry. Come, Anna." 
 
 And Mich hurried Anna out of the room, and along the 
 filthy stairway till they entered the street ; then they went 
 more slowly, for neither was anxious to enter the pawnbro- 
 ker's shop. But finally the dreaded place was reached, and 
 there, upon the steps they stopped to consult. Mich was the 
 first to speak. 
 
 "Anna, how much money are ye hopin' to get ?" 
 
 " I don't know, but as much as I can, for we are so hun- 
 gry, and I must hurry. Oh 1 Mich won't you ask ? Well, 
 let's go in, now," said Anna, trembling with fear. 
 
 " Och ! don't ye be trembling so, I'll take care of ye. 
 Come along wid me an' I'll do the spakin', and ye needn't 
 open yer head at all." 
 
 Cautiously they opened the door, which had but a single 
 blind taken down, and entered the gloomy shop. They stood 
 for a moment looking about them. Mich to listen for the 
 approach of the old man ; Anna, to examine the singular 
 arrangement of the place. She had never seen the like 
 before, and it had all the charm of novelty to her childish 
 eye. On one side of the narrow shop, were rows of shelves, 
 filled with packages done up in brown paper, and labelled 
 and numbered. On a table near was a strange medley. 
 Old bonnets, shawls, coats, cloaks, lamps, knives, books,
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 21 
 
 medical and musical instruments, all old and apparently 
 valueless. In a glass case, arranged for display, were watches, 
 chains, and every kind of ornament of ancient and modern 
 style, in fact everything that could be possibly desired either 
 for use or other purpose, all of which had either been pur- 
 chased by the pawnbroker, or been forfeited by the former 
 owner. Alas ! what a tale they told of poverty and desti- 
 tution, of altered fortunes, of crime, or of reckless extrava- 
 gance. On the other side were little stalls where Want 
 could enter, and hide its shame from its neighbor's gaze 
 and from the world. 
 
 As Anna advanced and looked into one of the small 
 apartments, wondering what they were for, she saw a 
 counter behind, and also another . row of shelves like those 
 on the opposite side, all bearing their dusty burdens, and all 
 in like manner labelled and numbered the accumulation of 
 years. She had barely made these observations, when she 
 was startled by a hoarse, gruff voice, issuing from the inner 
 recess of the gloomy den. 
 
 " What now ? what are you after ? Can't a poor man 
 eat his meal in peace, without being plagued with Pharaoh's 
 plagues. Come ! speak, what have you stolen already ?" 
 
 The children turned instantly, and there confronting them 
 stood Old Haun, as he was usually called. No wonder that 
 one so timid as Anna should tremble and turn pale at the 
 sight of him. For nature would seem to have exhausted her 
 energies and skill, in fashioning him as a model of ugli- 
 ness.
 
 22 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER.- 
 
 He was tall and lank, with an ungainly stoop. His 
 limbs were of an unnatural length, while his cadaverous face 
 was rendered still more ghastly by contrast with the black 
 and wiry locks which were thrown back from his forhead, 
 and hung down to his shoulders. A chronic rheumatic affec- 
 tion had partially deprived him of the use of his left arm, 
 and drawn it up into an acute angle, while the bony fingers 
 resembled the talons of a bird of prey ready to seize its 
 quarry. 
 
 He entered, masticating a portion of his breakfast, in the 
 enjoyment of which frugal meal he had been interrupted, 
 being from economical considerations his own cook and 
 housekeeper. Approaching closely to Anna, he bent down, 
 peered with his glittering, snake-like eyes, into her own, 
 waiting for an answer. 
 
 " We came to sell or pawn this locket, sir, and not to 
 stale, I'd have ye to know, sir," said Mich, taking upon 
 himself the office of spokesman. 
 
 The old man paid no regard to his words, for his keen 
 eyes had caught the glitter of gold, and quickly extending 
 his hand for the article, said, in what he intended for a very 
 careless and indifferent tone: 
 
 " This trinket ? pshaw, it's not worth the time of talking 
 about. Is this all you've got ?" 
 
 " Indade ! its not mine at all, but " 
 
 " Not yours ! and you expect an honest man like me to 
 buy stolen goods ! You young rascal !" 
 
 " If you wouldn't jist be takin' the words out of me
 
 PAWNING THE LCCKEf. 23 
 
 mouth, I'd be afther tellin' ye. It's not mine, but Anna's 
 here ; and I'm no rascal either, I'd have ye to know. So ye 
 needn't judge a dacint boy like me by yourself, I tell yez." 
 
 " Well ! who are you then ?" said Haun, laying his bony 
 hand on Anna's shoulder, who shrunk from him and tried to 
 get behind Mich, saying, in a whisper: 
 
 " I'm Anna Hervey." 
 
 " You are ? Well ! then, where did you get this ? and 
 mind, no lying." 
 
 " It's her mother's, and she wants you to give her some 
 money for it," interrupted Mich. 
 
 " You's better hold your tongue, if you expect to get away 
 with a whole head," said the pawnbroker ; and then turning 
 to Anna, he added, 
 
 " You don't expect to get much money for this trifle, do 
 you ? It won't sell." 
 
 " In faith, she don't want you to sell it, but jist to give 
 her a ticket for it," again interrupted Mich. 
 
 " My young friend," said Haun, turning to Mich, with 
 assumed calmness, " My young friend, do you see that 
 door ?" 
 
 " Is it the door ye mane ?" 
 
 " Yes ; do you see that door ?" 
 
 " Sure an' how could a body with eyes in his head help 
 seein' it ?" 
 
 " Now, if you don't stop interrupting me. I'll pitch you 
 out of that door into the street." 
 
 " Plase to spare yourself the trouble, sir, I'm not too
 
 24 OLD II A U N , THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 proud yet to walk," said Mich, springing backward, as Haun 
 made a sudden move towards him. 
 
 The apparent danger of her friend roused Anna's courage, 
 and she stepped quickly between them, and laying her hand 
 upon Haun's arm, exclaimed: 
 
 " Don't ! don't hurt Mich ; he will be still now ; I know 
 he will ;" and this was accompanied with a pleading look 
 towards Mich, which he understood and answered. 
 
 " Not a word will I be spakin', then at all, if that's what 
 ye wish," said Mich ; and turning away, commenced whistling 
 abstractedly. 
 
 " Will you stop that infernal noise ?" 
 
 " Och ! in faith ye're hard to plase Niver a word am I 
 spakin' at all." 
 
 " Mich ! do be quiet," whispered Anna, and then address- 
 ing Haun, said, 
 
 " Won't you give me some money for that now ? My 
 father is sick and hungry, and I want to buy some bread." 
 
 " Oh yes ! the same old story father sick and mother 
 dead of course. Do I look like a bird to be caught 
 by chaff, eh, my little dear ?" and he chucked her under the 
 chin. 
 
 " Not the laste bit in the world like a bird, barrin' the 
 swate voice that ye have," said Mich, softly. But Haun 
 did not hear nor understand him. 
 
 Anna shuddered with disgust at the contact with Hauu's 
 Land, and involuntarily stepped back. 
 
 " Afraid, are you ?" said Haun, and he approached her,
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 25 
 
 delighting in the terror she exhibited, and was about to 
 take hold of her when Mich stepped up, and said in a very 
 determined voice: 
 
 " Come, Anna, we'll be goin';" and then turning to Haun, 
 continued, " If ye're goin' to give us the money for the por 
 trait, be -afther doin' it ; if not, we'll jist lave yer ilegant 
 store at onct, won't we, Anna ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mich, let's go now," whispered she. 
 
 " Not too fast ; I've got it safely in my hand yet, do you 
 see ?" said Haun, chuckling. 
 
 Mich looked perplexed, but finally said, very earnestly, 
 
 " How much money will ye give her, thin ?" 
 
 " Not much, anyway ; I must see whether it's the real 
 stuff ;" saying which, he entered the gloomy recess, in the 
 back part of the shop, from which he had first made his 
 ingress, and disappeared. 
 
 The children stood impatiently awaiting his return. Mich 
 began to feel urgently the need of some breakfast, and was 
 anxious to leave. 
 
 Anna whispered to him as they stood waiting. " Oh ! 
 Mich, aint you afraid of him ? I wish I was home. Don't 
 you ?" 
 
 " Sorry a bit am I afraid of the likes of him on me own 
 account, but if we'd only the money from him, we'd not stay 
 here sure." 
 
 " Hallo, there you rascal, what are you whispering about ? 
 I'm suspicious of you, contriving to rob me, I know. I'll 
 warrant you've fobbed something already. Get out of my 
 
 2
 
 26 OLD ITA.TJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 shop ; get out, I say, or I'll call the police," said Haun, un- 
 expectedly entering. 
 
 " Not a bit of it, till ye give up the locket, and ye'd better 
 call the police too." 
 
 Haun was surprised and abashed at the nerve and resolu- 
 tion of Mich. The thought had occurred to him as he was 
 testing the gold, and examining the locket, that, perhaps, it 
 might have been stolen, or have been otherwise dishonestly 
 obtained, and when he found it to be of far greater value 
 than he had at first supposed, it had occurred to him that it 
 would be a profitable investment, and a very fair morning's 
 work, to obtain the article for nothing, and knowing that 
 guilt is always timid, he intended to frighten the children 
 into consulting their own safety and leaving the locket. He 
 had been eyeing them sometime through a private aperture, 
 and then attempted to put his plan into operation, but he 
 was disappointed, and therefore quickly added, 
 X " The locket ! ah, yes. But you said your father was very 
 sick, didn't you ? Poor man ! Has he been sick long ?" 
 
 " Ah, yes, a long time." 
 
 " And in great want, no doubt ?" 
 
 " Yes ; we have nothing to eat." 
 
 " And living so near and never let me know anything of 
 it," said Haun warmly, and with assumed indignation. 
 " Couldn't I see the poor man ?" 
 
 "Oh 1 yes, will you come and visit him ?" answered Anna, 
 overcome by the appearance of genuine sympathy manifested. 
 
 " In what street do you live ?"
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 27 
 
 Anna mentioned the street and number. 
 
 " On the first floor ?" 
 
 " No ; it's a long way up to our room." 
 
 He had put his inquiries in order to learn the circumstances 
 in which the persons applying for assistance were placed, and 
 how great was their actual need, before making an offer, as 
 he made it a rule to graduate his loans according to the 
 necessities of the customer, in an inverse ratio the greater 
 the poverty, the less was the sum offered by him. After 
 hesitating a moment, 
 
 " I don't want this trinket ; I could never sell it; it is 
 of no value ; but I'll give you a trifle for it, as you need 
 money," said Haun in a snuffling tone of voice, as he handed 
 her a half dollar. Anna stepped forward, and was about to 
 grasp the money, but was stopped by Mich, who had listen- 
 ed with feelings of gratitude to the charitable remarks of the 
 pawnbroker, and who, although he could not forget some 
 little idiosyncrasies that characterized him in his dealings 
 when he had pawned his mother's shawls, still was willing to 
 believe that, like the fox in the fable, Haun had repented of 
 his evil ways, and was anxious to begin the expiation of liis 
 sins, by good deeds ; therefore Mich was prepared to listen 
 to some liberal offer from the pawnbroker's lips, but when 
 he heard the conclusion, his anger would not be restrained. 
 
 " Don't ye touch it, Anna," he exclaimed loudly. " Its 
 chatin' ye he is. The divil's own father. Bad luck to the 
 day ye were born, an' to the mother that bore ye," he shouted, 
 turning to Haun, and shaking his fist. " To chate the poor
 
 28 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 friendless ckilder. Ye'd stale the bread from the mouths of 
 the widdy and the orphans. The gould on the porthrait is 
 worth every cint of five dollars, an 7 ye know it. Anna, 
 don't ye take a cint less. This is the way ye are after help- 
 in' the poor, by chatin' them. God be betune them and ye 
 foriver, ye, ye ." 
 
 He would have continued, but Hauu now thoroughly 
 aroused, strode forward and grasping him around the neck, 
 with his long talon-like fingers, shook him violently, hissing 
 through his closed teeth : 
 
 "D imp ; I'll stop your noise for you now? Med- 
 dle with my business, will you ?" . He continued shaking him 
 as his face became livid with passion. 
 
 Anna uttered a piercing shriek, and rushed toward the 
 door, with the intention of calling assistance. Haun divined 
 her object instantaneously, and letting Mich drop from his 
 grasp, gave him a push towards the door, exclaiming with 
 an oath, " now leave if you know when you are well off," 
 and turning to Anna, shouted, 
 
 " Here, girl wait I say." 
 
 Anna involuntarily hesitated. 
 
 " Here's your money ! a five dollar note it's yours for the 
 picture. Now, who's trying to cheat ? I'd like to know," 
 said he, turning again to Mich. 
 
 Mich said nothing more. Anna having received the 
 money, the two walked quickly away. 
 
 " Did he hurt you, much ?" asked Anna, as soon as they 
 were a short distance from the pawnbroker's shop.
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 29 
 
 " No, not much," answered Mich, " but if I were only a 
 man grown insti'd of bein' a boy as I am, wouldn't I lay me 
 beautiful switch of a shillalah over his head ? troth an' I 
 would jist." 
 
 \They hurried on until they reached the stairway leading 
 to Anna's home, and without stopping to take breath, up, 
 up, up their weary way they clambered, till they reached the 
 door of the attic room. There Mich would have let go of 
 Anna's hand, but she would not permit it, and opening the 
 door, dragged, rather than led him into the room, exclaim- 
 ing 
 
 " Here, mamma, see what I have got, see ! five whole 
 dollars. Won't we have enough to eat now ?" and she laid 
 the money in her mother's lap. 
 
 " Is this all you obtained for the locket ?" asked Mrs. 
 Hervey, in a tone of surprise. 
 
 " Why, mother, is not that a great deal of money ?" 
 
 " Yes, Anna, a fortune to us now, but not one quarter of 
 its value. This is your friend I presume." 
 
 " Yes, mother, this is Mich. ; if he had not been with me 
 I don't know what I should have done, for I was afraid of 
 the old pawnbroker," said Anna, endeavoring to draw Mich 
 towards her mother. 
 
 " Come here, my boy, I am very much obliged to you for 
 your kindness to Anna," said Mrs. Hervey, extending her 
 hand to him, but Mich's eyes were bent on the ragged cap 
 he was twirling in his hand, and he made no response. 
 
 " Anna," said Mr. Hervey, in a cheerful voice, " cannot
 
 30 OLD H A TJ N , THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 your friend Mich go with you to get us something to 
 eat ! Bring him back with yoa" he added, in a lower 
 tone. 
 
 ' Mich, you'll go with me, won't you ? we'll get some 
 bread, and some tea and sugar, and some wood to make a 
 fire, and lots of nice things, won't we !" said Anna, as she 
 took hold of Mich's hand, and started for the door, but her 
 mother called h.er back, saying 
 
 "Anna, wait one moment come here. Remember we 
 must not spend all of this money to-day, for when that is 
 gone we shall have nothing. Get a loaf of broad, and a 
 little tea and sugar for your father, and bring the rest of the 
 money back to me." 
 
 " Mother, what shall we make the tea with I we have not 
 a bit of wood." 
 
 " Whist ! Anna, not a word about the wood, it's meself 
 that knows where there's hapes of it for the mere askin'." 
 
 " Do you, Mich oh where ?" 
 
 " I'll show ye, come wid me." 
 
 They both left the room and descended the stairs as 
 quickly as possible. They sought a different grocery from 
 the one where Anna had been so ill-treated in the morning. 
 Here they purchased the articles desired, and offered the bill 
 in payment. The grocer looked at it for a moment, and 
 then eyeing the children suspiciously, pushed the bill towards 
 them, and said 
 
 " I can't take that where did you get it ?" 
 
 " Of old Haun the pawnbroker, a'nt it a good bill, sir ?"
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 31 
 
 " No it is not a good bill." 
 
 " Oh, Mich what shall I do ?" almost cried Anna. 
 
 " Wait a bit darlint don't ye cry jist yet," said he, and 
 then turning to the grocer, asked in a louder tone. 
 " What's ailin' wid the money ?" 
 
 " Well, boy, the bank is closed, and the money is not 
 current, that's what's ailin' wid the money," answered the 
 grocer, with a grimace and humorously imitating Mich's 
 manner of speaking. " However, I reckon you'll not better 
 yourselves by taking it back to the old rascal so I will 
 allow you its full value." 
 
 " And how much can ye give us for the bill ?" inquired 
 Mich. 
 
 " Just fifty cents on the dollar, that makes two dollars 
 and a half. The things you have bought come to a half a 
 dollar and there are two dollars to make up the balance." 
 
 The children took the money and their parcel and started 
 for home. Upon reaching the foot of the stairs Mich stop- 
 ped and said, 
 
 " I must leave ye now, Anna. Me mither'll be waitin' for 
 me to mind Jonny a bit." 
 
 " But you know papa wanted you to come back, so that 
 he could speak to you." 
 
 "Blessin's on your purty head an' so he did sure, well 1 
 I'll go." 
 
 They climbed up the stairs and deposited their bundle, 
 and related the new misfortune that had befallen them at 
 the grocery in the loss of the part of their money. And
 
 32 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER 
 
 Mich finding Mr. Hervey in a quiet slumber prepared to 
 leavi, but was detained by hearing Mrs. Hervey say to 
 Anna. 
 
 " You will have to go and buy some matches, there is 
 not one left." 
 
 " Oh, yes, and then mother after we have had some break- 
 fast I can go and sell matches. Mich, will you go with 
 me?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed, an' if ye're willin I'll go now an' get ye'r( 
 matches for ye. For I wouldn't wonder if ye were tired J 
 wee bit." 
 
 " If you will, Mich, take this shilling and go to the ston 
 where they make matches just below and buy some," saia 
 Mrs. Hervey in a friendly manner. 
 
 Mich took the money and hastened off, and Anna com 
 menced eating a portion of the bread which they had 
 purchased, with an appetite whetted by her long fast. 
 
 Mich soon returned with what seemed to them an inex- 
 haustible quantity of matches, which were to constitute 
 their future stock in trade. Mrs. Hervey cut off a generous 
 slice of the bread and handed it to Anna, telling her Mich 
 must be tired after going up and down stairs so often. 
 Mich would have refused, but Anna forced it into his hand 
 and was delighted to see him, notwithstanding his diffidence, 
 eat it so heartily. 
 
 " I'll go now and see me mother, and thin if she can spare 
 me from mindin' Jonny I'll be back again at onct, and we'll 
 go and sell the matches."
 
 PAWNING THE LOCKET. 33 
 
 " Very well, Mich, come back as soon as your mother 
 can spare you," said Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 And then the sick husband and father sipped the nourish- 
 ing draught that had been prepared for him, and ate a few 
 morsels of bread while a cheerful look flitted over his wan 
 face and animated his features. Then departing Hope came 
 back to rest in the bosom of the sorrowing wife. She 
 smoothed his coarse bed and laid him gently down, still 
 basking in the gleam of sunshine which momentarily dissi- 
 pated the shadows of despair. 
 
 2*
 
 OLD H A U N THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 CORNELL AND OLD HAUN. 
 
 AFTER his interview with Mich and Anna, Harm retreated 
 to the remotest corner of his den, to examine and gloat over 
 his prize. To be able to impose upon those whose pov- 
 erty obliged them to apply to him for aid, was the source 
 of his purest enjoyment. He was happy, both in having 
 defrauded others, and in having added to his own gains. 
 
 The noise of some one entering aroused him from his 
 pleasant revery, and he thrust the locket into a private 
 drawer, and crept stealthily along to the aperture already 
 spoken of, to obtain, if possible, through his " loophole of 
 retreat," a glimse of his customer, without exposing himself 
 to observation. He had hardly taken his position when he 
 heard a voice calling : 
 
 " Hallo there, old covey ! where are you burrowing ? 
 come out of your hole" at the same time the owner of the 
 voice entered one of the stalls, and bent over the counter, 
 extending his neck, and trying to peer into the gloom 
 beyond.
 
 CORNELL AND OLD HAUN. 35 
 
 " Well, sir ! what would you have me to do for you this 
 morning ?" said Haun, advancing, and not thinking proper 
 to take any notice of the roughness of the salutation, as he 
 eyed his customer closely. 
 
 " I want to raise fifty dollars on that watch," said the 
 man, as he placed upon the counter a valuable gold-cased 
 lever, and looking at the same time into the pawnbroker's 
 face for an answer. 
 
 " Money is very close at present," said Haun, shaking his 
 head dubiously. 
 
 " If it's half as close as you are, it must be hard to 
 get." 
 
 " We have to be very cautious in our operations." 
 
 " Well now, look you I've no time to lose nor disposi- 
 tion to dally. Here's a plain proposition : I am in want of 
 fifty dollars; you have it to lend ; there's my watch as secu- 
 rity ; are you satisfied, and shall I have the money ? Yea, 
 or no ?" 
 
 " I fancy you'll have to turn in something more than that, 
 if you get fifty dollars of me," said Haun, glancing at the 
 watch, but not offering to touch it. 
 
 " Something more! where are your eyes ? D it, man, 
 
 look at the thing. It cost me just two hundred dollars not 
 six months since," said the man, at the same time taking 
 the watch from the counter and thrusting it towards Haun, 
 who leisurely took it up. He opened it, and looked at it 
 carelessly, turning it about and placing it to his ear without 
 speaking.
 
 36 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Well, I might, perhaps, let you have the amount, 
 deducting the interest," said Haun, after deliberating a 
 moment. 
 
 " Fork it over then, and don't play shy any longer. You 
 pretend to be very indifferent about taking my offer, but you 
 don't deceive me. I know the tricks of gentlemen of your 
 profession too well. That watch has been up the spout 
 before, and for a cool hundred and fifty too. So you keep 
 a close hand upon it, old fellow, till I come again. I want 
 the money for one month only. What interest do you 
 take ?" 
 
 " Twent-five per cent," answered Haun. 
 
 " Twenty-five per cent. ! well, that is moderate. Did 
 you attend the funeral when your conscience was buried ?" 
 
 " You can take it ; or, if you don't like my terms, let it 
 alone, just as you please. But not a dollar shall you get 
 from me at a less rate," said Haun, turning to leave the 
 counter. 
 
 " Well ! well ! hand it along ; the money I must have 
 and what'll be the difference a century hence ?" 
 
 Haun disappeared for a moment, and then returning, laid 
 the money down on the counter with one hand, while with 
 the other he took up the watch, saying, " What did you 
 say your name was ? I've forgotten ; I want to put it in 
 my book." 
 
 " Well, put it in your book then, it's an honest name, and 
 one its owner is not ashamed of. My name is Cornell 
 James Cornell."
 
 CORNELL AND OLD HAUN. 37 
 
 "Now, give me the ticket and be lively about it, my 
 agreeable acquaintance, for I must be moving," continued he, 
 taking up the money. 
 
 " Yes sir ! there it is, No. 3,051 ; mind you don't lose it." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Because without it I might not be able to identify you as 
 the owner of the watch." 
 
 " Perhaps you are troubled with a bad memory. Some 
 people are, at times, but you had better not fail to have that 
 little ornament forthcoming when I call for it, or times '11 be 
 a great deal closer with you than they are now," added Cor- 
 nell as he turned and left the shop. When he reached the 
 street, he stopped for a moment, and then drawing a long 
 breath, muttered, " Well there's the watch left once more 
 for safe keeping with that dear relative, 'my uncle.' 
 Whew ! I'm glad I'm once more out of that dirty den. I'll 
 shake off the dust from my feet, as well as from my clothes 
 as a testimony against it." 
 
 Proceeding down Broadway, he sauntered leisurely along 
 till he reached the Astor-House, which he entered and went 
 immediately to his own room. Different articles of clothing 
 were scattered about the floor in the utmost confusion. 
 
 After sitting for some time in silence, and apparently m 
 deep meditation, he roused himself and commenced picking 
 up and packing his wardrobe into a trunk, that stood in the 
 middle of the chamber, and by hard labor, pushing and press- 
 ing, he finally got everything closely packed to his satisfac- 
 tion. He then walked towards the window and wiping the
 
 38 OLD HAUN THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 perspiration from his forehead, gazed on the street, and 
 soliloquized : 
 
 " Well that's done once more. Now I must go and see 
 if there's a letter. If Leonard don't send me some money 
 soon I shall be in a fix. Fifty dollars don't last long. How- 
 ever, sumcient for the day. Now for the letter," and having 
 first surveyed himself in the mirror, and carefully adjusted 
 his apparel, he left the house and directed his steps towards 
 the post-office. In a somewhat nervous manner he inquired 
 if the southern mail had arrived, and if there was anything for 
 him. To his great joy the clerk handed him a letter. It 
 bore the postmark, New Orleans. " It's the one for a cer- 
 tainty," said he to himself, as he seized it and glanced at the 
 superscription, at the same time placing it in his pocket, and 
 with rapid strides retracing his way to his hotel, and seeking 
 again his own room. There he closed the door and eagerly 
 tearing open the letter, found his hopes and expectations re- 
 alized, in the receipt of the sought for remittance. Laying 
 the letter on the table he took up the draft, and after glanc- 
 ing at the amount folded it up carefully and placed it in his 
 pocket. He then read the letter aloud as follows : 
 
 NEW ORLEANS, Oct. 10, 18 . 
 
 DEAR JAMES : I have just received your letter of September 5th, 
 in which you advise me of your want of success in your mission. In 
 compliance with your request I send a draft for five hundred dollars. 
 But this must be the last. I am obliged to conclude that you have not 
 been very earnest in your endeavors to find my relatives, or you 
 would certainlv have discovered some traces of them before this.
 
 CORNELL AND OLD HAUN. 39 
 
 The enclosed funds are intended to defray your expenses, until your 
 return home. 
 
 Your friend and cousin, 
 
 WILLIAM LEONARD. 
 
 X Cornell read the letter, muttering " ' short and sweet/ 
 but that's always the way in this world ' no rose without 
 some thorn.' 
 
 " Now if he had only sent the draft without the letter I 
 should have been much better pleased. 
 
 " However one thing is certain, if these relations turn up 
 they become his heirs if they don't turn up then I'm the 
 trump. 
 
 " But then, if I don't look for them the old dotard '11 be 
 up here himself soon and perhaps find them and then I shall 
 get no credit, and also no money. If I do find them I get 
 credit but no money. 
 
 " Well, the case is a hard one. But I must make some 
 demonstration, for he has put me on short rations and 
 ordered me home ? Now that matter 's settled, where shall 
 I go to look for them. They came to this city, and here 
 they were the last that anything was known of them. I'll 
 look around among the stores to-day, for he was a book- 
 keeper for awhile, and may be still ; I do hope for their 
 sakes that they are dead, and happy in heaven !" 
 
 After finishing this long soliloquy, Cornell started up 
 impulsively, for the purpose of carrying out the idea which 
 had so suddenly taken possession of his mind.
 
 4:0 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 Leaving him to continue his search we will return awhile 
 to the children. 
 
 Mich went directly from Mr. Hervey's to his own home, 
 and immediately communicated to his mother the fact of 
 his great luck in getting matches to sell with Anna, and 
 how much he expected to bring home to her, and that she 
 should have a nice supper too. After he had remained as 
 he supposed long enough to allow the Herveys time for 
 their meal, he started again, saying to his mother as he left 
 the room : 
 
 " Now, mother darlint, keep a good heart, for I'm afther 
 makin' me fortun' this very day. Now do ye and Jonny 
 ate all the bread, for in faith I'll bring ye more." 
 
 " Mich, me boy, ye must stop and ate ; for ye 've not had 
 a bite the blessed live long mornin'." 
 
 " Och, mother ! didn't the Mistress Hervey make me ate 
 till I couldn't put one foot afore the other down the stairs 
 indade an' she did." 
 
 " Out wid ye boy, to be after decaving yer own mother," 
 said Mrs. Lynch, with tears in her eyes, for she thought her 
 boy was denying himself in order that she might not suffer. 
 
 Mich approached his mother and said earnestly, " I'm 
 not hungry at all, and ye know Jonuy '11 want some bread 
 before I'm back again, so don't be persuadin' me any longer," 
 and then he left. 
 
 When Mich arrived for Anna, she was ready and waiting. 
 The little old straw bonnet was tied on, and her mother's 
 shawl wrapped around her, for the wind was chilly. The
 
 CORNELL AND OLD HATTN. 41 
 
 matches were put into a little wicker basket one that had 
 been her mother's work-basket, but who had no use for it 
 now, for Mrs. Hervey's eyes had failed her when her 
 need was sorest. For some time her needle had afforded 
 them a bare subsistence after her husband had become too 
 weak to engage in any labor ; then article after article was 
 sold to procure the bare means of supporting life, until there 
 was literally nothing left to them and they lived in utter 
 uncertainty of the morrow ! 
 
 Mich and Anna started with their basket of matches 
 each holding it by one of the little loops of straw that 
 ornamented its sides. After reaching the street, Anna 
 said. 
 
 " Mich, which way shall we go ?" 
 
 " We'll jist go slowly like, at first, and see if we can sell 
 some in this street, and then we'll go into Broadway, and 
 mind that ye don't get knocked down in the crowd." 
 
 " Oh 1 I do hope we can sell them all. Then we can buy 
 more I want to sell a great many to-day." 
 
 " Indade ! and so do I that same, I don't know what 
 mother and Jonny '11 do for a male if I don't. Sorry a 
 thing there's lift in the house to ate at all at all. Barrin' 
 a crust of the bread, and that Jonny had for his breakfast. 
 God bless yer father for a kind-hearted gentleman that he 
 is for helpin' a poor boy like me. Its many a day I've been 
 wantin' to sell matches, but not a soul would thrust me for 
 them till now." 
 
 " Where did you get money to buy bread?"
 
 42 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " I minded a gintleman's horse, and he gave me sax- 
 pence." 
 
 " Why didn't you buy matches with that money ?" 
 
 " And lave my own blessed mother to go hungry, and 
 little Jonny too ? Och, he's a broth of a boy, is Jonny, 
 he's such takin' ways wid him." 
 
 " Mich, where is your father ?" asked Anna, abruptly. 
 
 " Dead !" answered Mich, with a groan. 
 
 " When did he die, and where were you ?" continued 
 Anna ; " tell me all about it." 
 
 "Anna, darlint, I jist don't like spakin' of it any 
 more," said Mich, wiping the tears away with his ragged 
 jacket. 
 
 " Don't cry, Mich, I didn't mean to make you feel bad ;" 
 and Anna dried the tears that were already trickling in 
 sympathy down her own cheeks. 
 
 " It's not yerself, bless yer kind heart ! Ye wouldn't harm 
 the worm that crawls, so don't be after cryin' yerself, and 
 I'll tell ye all about it," 
 
 " No ! no ! Mich, I don't want you to tell me, if it makes 
 you feel bad to talk about it." 
 
 " Niver ye care, I'll tell ye now, if ye'll hearken a bit." 
 
 " Well then, Mich ?" 
 
 " Sure an' a sad day was it for us when we left ould 
 Ireland ; but me father, may the saints rest his soul, got 
 discontinted about the taxes and the government, and it 
 came all of the prastes too, who wouldn't lave him quiet. 
 So we turned our backs upon our home in the ould counthry
 
 CORNELL AND OLD HAUN. 43 
 
 and como across the salt water to Araeriky ; then we all 
 took sick, and my father died the very next day afther we 
 landid." 
 
 " Mich, how long ago was it ?" 
 
 " Jist a year come May day, an' sure a sorry May day 
 was it for us. We've seen the great sufferin' since we're 
 here. Niver a thing is left to us of all that we brought 
 wid us but the honest hands that kape us from starvin', and 
 the stout hearts that we have. It's sickness and misfortin' 
 that's done it. For it's ashamed we'd be to let our frinds 
 across the saa know that we left the nice little spot of 
 ground with its nate cottage where we lived all so aisy and 
 gintale like, to come to Ameriky to beg." 
 
 " Did you know any one here when you landed ?" 
 
 " Not a mother's son from the ould counthry, barrin' the 
 poor crathurs that came over in the ship wid us, and they're 
 not the people one would be after sakin' out for a helpin' 
 hand in sorrow and misfortun' not a livin' soul this side of 
 the wide saa." 
 
 " That's too bad," said Anna, sympathizingly. 
 
 " An' it's yerself that's not much better to do, /though ye 
 are in yer own land and wid yer own kin-." 
 
 " I don't know that I have any other kin ; I never saw 
 any. But I have heard my mother talk about my Uncle 
 William ; I suppose he's dead though." 
 
 " An' how long has yer father been sick ?" 
 
 " Oh 1 a long, long time, ever so many weeks, but I 
 hope he'll be better soon."
 
 44 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Has he been ailin' all the summer ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, and last winter too ; but then we lived in a 
 nice little house over in Brooklyn ; but papa got sick, and 
 so we had to move over here because he couldn't walk so 
 far, and since then we've lived in different houses." 
 
 " What did he do ?" 
 
 " He wrote in a store, till he got so sick he couldn't write 
 on account of the pain in his side, and the cough, and then 
 the)' didn't want him any longer." 
 
 " But hadn't ye the docthor ?" 
 
 " Yes, a great many times, till we hadn't any more money 
 to pay him, and then he wouldn't come any longer. And 
 besides, papa said he didn't want one, for they always made 
 him worse instead of better, but that was only because he 
 didn't want mother should spend the little money we could 
 get for himself alone." 
 
 " Have ye always lived here since ye can remember ?" 
 
 " No ; when I was a little girl, we lived in a small village 
 a great ways from here. I remember how we " 
 
 " Faith, here we are in Broadway, and not a sign of a 
 match sold yet. I'm thinkin' we'll not make ourselves sick 
 wid overatin' to-day, unless we ate the matches themselves, 
 for sorra a thing 'ill there be besides, at this rate," said 
 Mich, interrupting Anna. 
 
 So conversing, the two adventurers passed along the 
 great thoroughfare of the city, endeavoring to dispose of 
 their wares. They had waited in vain to have those who 
 rushed by, intent upon their own absorbing business, stop to
 
 CORNELL AND OLD HAUN. 45 
 
 take notice of their humble stock. And so, at Mich's sug- 
 gestion, concluded to take the bold step of accosting those 
 whom they judged might possibly purchase. They met with 
 many repulses, and with but few sales. They had visited 
 most of the hotels and public places, as they wandered on 
 up Broadway, and still had a balance of stock on hand. 
 Beginning to feel tired and hungry, and withal somewhat 
 discouraged, they concluded to turn back, and on their way 
 down call at some of the stores where they had not yet 
 been. They did so, and sold here and there a bunch, but 
 not enough to exhaust their supply or empty their basket. 
 
 " Let's jist thry them in here," said Mich suddenly, as they 
 came opposite another store ; opening the door Mich cried 
 out, " matches." 
 
 " What's that ? matches ?" said a dapper little man, turn- 
 ing around, " that's just what I want, boy. How do you 
 sell them ?" 
 
 " Cint a bunch, sir," answered Mich, eagerly. 
 
 " Are they first rate ? eh 1 What are you looking at so 
 earnestly, little girl?" 
 
 " Will you buy some, sir ?" 
 
 " Why yes, I guess I will, but you don't expect to make 
 your fortune selling matches do you ?" 
 
 " No, but I want to buy something nice to eat for my 
 father," said Anna timidly. 
 
 " Who is your father ? and why don't he buy Ms own sup- 
 per ?" 
 
 "He is very sick and can't work now."
 
 46 OLD HADN, THE PAWNBROKER... 
 
 " Is this your brother ?" pointing to Mich. 
 
 " No indade an' I'm not her brother. I'm Mich Lynch," 
 answered the latter eagerly." 
 
 " Do you own part of the stock in trade ?" 
 
 " What, sir ?" 
 
 " Do part of the matches belong to you ?" 
 
 " Och, is that what ye mane ?" Well ! ye see, sir, Mr. 
 Hervey, and he's as nice a gintleman as iver lived, sir, he. 
 said if I'd go with Anna and help sell the matches he'd give 
 me half the profits, sir." 
 
 "Well, that's fair, and I guess you are two honest 
 children, so I'll buy the lot. How much do you ask for 
 them all ?" said the merchant. 
 
 " God bless yer kind heart I Anna, ye can count the 
 bunches, 'tis a cint a bunch, ye know." 
 
 Anna commenced laying the bunches out on the counter 
 counting them as she did so. Her hand and voice trem- 
 bling with excitement. 
 
 " There are twenty-three bunches, sir." 
 
 " All right. Will you come here again ? by the way, what 
 do you say your name is ?" 
 
 "Anna Hervey. Shall I bring you some more matches ?" 
 
 In a few days I shall want more. There are two shillings 
 that will pay you for these that I have already," said he, 
 handing her the money. 
 
 Anna took the money in her hand, saying, " Thank you 
 sir. But, sir " 
 
 " What is it ?"
 
 CORNELL AND OLD HATJN. 47 
 
 "There were only twenty-three bunches, which make 
 twenty three cents, here is the change." 
 
 " Never mind the pennies." 
 
 " Thank you," said Anna, and " thank ye kindly," said 
 Mich, as they both turned to leave. 
 
 Upon reaching the street they stopped for a moment to 
 examine the money that they had received and to count 
 their profits. No miser gloating over hoarded gold ever 
 felt the pure delight that they did in counting and recount- 
 ing their receipts. 
 
 After their joy had somewhat abated they started for 
 their homes, hurrying along as fast as possible, in order 
 that they might make others partakers with them in their 
 happiness. 
 
 " Mich, what shah 1 we do now ?" said Anna, as they turned 
 into the street leading to her own home. 
 
 " Well, now I'll tell ye, we'll jist go up and show ye're 
 father and ye're mother the great luck that we've had." 
 
 " So we will." 
 
 " See here, mother, see !" she exclaimed, as she rushed 
 into her own room after climbing the stairs, while Mich 
 more slowly followed after. 
 
 " Hush, hush, Anna !" said Mrs. Hervey, pointing to the 
 bed, " your father is asleep, don't wake him." 
 
 Anna then went softly up to her mother, and showed her 
 the empty basket and the money saying, " sold them all, 
 every one, and here's the money." 
 
 " You are very fortunate, indeed," said Mrs. Hervey, aa
 
 48 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 she caught the happy look of Mich, who, with cap in hand, 
 stood by the half-opened door. 
 
 " Come here, Mich," she added, " you have been very 
 kind to go with Anna to-day, and we shall hope sometime 
 to repay you. I suppose you are anxious to get home now. 
 So we will not detain you, but as Anna wants to go down to 
 the grocery, you will let her go with you. Now, daughter," 
 she continued, turning to Anna, " you had better go at once 
 to buy what you intended for your papa." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey sat some moments in meditation, after the 
 children had left, but hearing her husband turning restlessly, 
 said : 
 
 " Edward, did we awaken you ? I did hope you would 
 sleep and would feel better." 
 
 " It is just as well, I could not sleep on account of the 
 pain in my side, which seems to increase. But my bodily 
 suffering will soon be ended, and then I shall sleep." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey's lip quivered with emotion, and she turned 
 away to hide the tears that started to her eyes. With a 
 strong will she suppressed them, and pressing her hand for 
 a moment upon her aching heart to quiet its throbbing, 
 replied : 
 
 " Edward, I am going to see a physician and get some 
 medicine for you. I have now the money to pay, so do not 
 object to it." 
 
 " Mary, my dear wife, I cannot consent to your using the 
 only money you have, in order that you may procure for me 
 that which can be of no permanent benefit. You know
 
 CORNELL AND OLD HAUN. 49 
 
 medicines cannot help me now." A violent fit of coughing 
 interrupted him, after which he laid back quite exhausted, 
 and Mrs. Hervey did not dare to say anything more at that 
 time. She knew she could not cure him, but did hope she 
 might find something to alleviate his present sufferings. 
 
 " Papa, what would you like for your supper," interrupted 
 Anna, who had just returned from the grocery with a loaf 
 of bread, " I want to get you something nice." 
 
 ." My dear girl, I cannot eat much, a very little suffices 
 me now," said Mr. Hervey, laying his hand upon her head. 
 You and your mother must eat more or you will be sick. 
 Human nature can't endure every privation. 
 
 " Edward, Edward, you must keep more quiet, and not 
 talk so much." 
 
 " I will for your sake."
 
 50 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 
 
 MR. HERVEY felt better than usual, when Anna returned 
 that evening with what she thought would be for her parents 
 a great luxury. And she went about lighting a fire that she 
 might prepare the supper. 
 
 " Now, mother, let me do it all," said she, when her 
 mother would have assisted her, as she drew up the table to 
 the bedside, and spread upon it a clean cloth. The few 
 dishes that they had retained were then placed upon the 
 table, and tea being made, and their supper prepared, they 
 sat down. Mr. Hervey had been raised and bolstered up so 
 that he could sit at the table, with the others. Anna her- 
 self could scarcely eat from the excess of joy she felt at 
 seeing her parents once more seated together at the evening 
 meal, a sight to which she had been for some time a 
 stranger. She exclaimed 
 
 " Mamma, I knew we would need a candle, so I bought 
 some, and now you won't have to sit all night in the dark 
 with papa as you did last night."
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 51 
 
 She continued chatting away to her parents, telling them 
 of the many to her, amusing things that had occurred dur- 
 ing her day's wanderings, which would now and then elicit a 
 smile and kind word from her dearly loved father. Mrs. 
 Hervey listened abstractedly. A shadowy and undefined 
 foreboding of some coming evil, pressed like a weight of 
 lead upon her heart. Old associations thronged upon her 
 memory. She thought of the many pleasant days they had 
 passed together, of the many returns of morning, noon, and 
 evening that had found them all gathered together as now, 
 around the same board, before sickness and want came. She 
 thought of the long pilgrimage, hand in hand through life, 
 which had latterly become so lonely and desolate. 
 
 Her eyes scarcely moved from the face of her husband 
 while Anna was talking ; every change of expression that 
 flitted over his wan features, every look and smile were 
 daguerreotyped in her memory. Thus passed some time, 
 until Mrs. Hervey observed that he was becoming fatigued, 
 and then she said 
 
 " Anna, you had better kiss papa good night, and go to 
 bed. You must be very tired, you have walked so far to- 
 day." 
 
 Anna rose immediately and prepared herself for bed, pro- 
 testing, however, that she was not at all tired. But her head 
 had not long rested on its pillow ere she was sleeping soundly. 
 
 " Now, Edward, you must lie down, and keep quiet, and 
 perhaps, you'll go to sleep," said Mrs. Hervey, addressing 
 him after Anna had gone to bed.
 
 52 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Well, I will, if you will promise to lie down too. You 
 must not sit up as you did last night ; I will speak to you if 
 I should want anything." 
 
 Well ! I will lie down on Anna's bed, so that I shall not 
 disturb you if you get to sleep," said Mrs. Hervey. Not 
 that she expected to sleep, but she hoped that he would be 
 more tranquil if he imagined her to be resting. She laid for 
 a long time until she knew by the manner of his breathing 
 that he was asleep, and then rising and stealing quietly 
 across the room, stood and gazed upon him as he slept, while 
 the scalding tears streamed down her pale and careworn 
 cheek. She knelt by the bedside and buried her face in her 
 hands. All was still in the room, a confused murmur floated 
 up from the street, below where the tide of life rushed madly 
 through the thoroughfares of the city. But she felt herself 
 alone. Long she knelt, and when she arose the tears were 
 dried. Looking at the unconscious sleeper again earnestly, 
 she smoothed the hair from his forehead, and again laid her- 
 self down by her child. Mental strength could not resist the 
 impulse of over-wrought nature, and she slept. 
 
 What a contrast ! the daughter, sleeping the deep, un- 
 broken sleep of childhood, with the bloom of scarce ten 
 summers upon her cheek, and the mother lying beside her, 
 but with a pale and careworn countenance on which traces of 
 youthful beauty still lingered, starting with nervous irrita- 
 bility at every sound that broke the solemn stillness of the 
 room. Hours passed and the night waned. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey thought she had slept but a few moments,
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 53 
 
 when she was suddenly aroused by the violent coughing of 
 her husband, but she had slept a long time, for it was 
 now past midnight. She started to her feet instantly and 
 springing to his bed-side, uttered a shriek. A dreadful sight 
 met her eyes, he had burst a blood-vessel, and his clothes 
 were saturated with his life blood. She comprehended at a 
 glance the terrible reality, but even then her presence of 
 mind did not desert her. She wiped his lips, and wrapping 
 her shawl about her, exclaimed in an agonized voice : 
 
 " Edward ! do not speak do not try I must go for a 
 physician. I will not be gone long ," and then seeing that 
 he was attempting to speak, she added, 
 
 " Edward, I must go no ! no ! do not speak. Anna 
 shall watch beside you while I am gone," and then turning 
 to Anna, who aroused by the noise had started up in bed, 
 said, 
 
 " Anna ! come quick ; sit here don't let papa speak, not 
 one word I am going for a doctor." 
 
 Anna did as she was desired. Her dark eyes dilated 
 with horror at her father's bloody clothes and deathlike 
 countenance. But not a a tear or sob escaped her as she 
 stood and gazed upon him, not for an instant did she avert 
 her eyes, which were fixed intently upon his ghastly face. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey wrapped her shawl about her and started out 
 to seek medical aid. As she reached the street she stood 
 for a moment, uncertain which way to take, and then hurried 
 on. When out of the hearing of her husband, she gave 
 free vent to the consuming anguish that she had so long
 
 54: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 smothered in her breast. But now it would not longer be 
 controlled. 
 
 The streets were comparatively deserted. But few 
 appeared abroad at that late hour, except as the jaws of 
 some gambling hell yawned to give egress to its reeling and 
 notorious company, many of whom as she hurried past 
 them, would turn to gaze and stare after her, attracted by 
 the horror-stricken expression of her countenance. 
 
 She hurried wildly on, looking eagerly about on every side 
 for some signs of a physician's abode. After having gone 
 some distance without finding any, she heard footsteps ra- 
 pidly approaching, and immediately a hand fell heavily upon 
 her shoulder and clutched her arm, at the same time a 
 rough voice shouted in her ear 
 
 " Where to, now, in such a hurry ?" 
 
 " Let me go ; oh, let me go 1" she exclaimed, frantically, as 
 she turned her head towards the intruder, still struggling to 
 hurry on. 
 
 Her only thought was of her dying husband, she forgot 
 entirely that she was a weak and unprotected woman, that 
 she was alone, with none to help her, in the streets of a great 
 city, of a city where crime skulks about nightly in darkness 
 and gloom and where vice stalks abroad in gorgeous 
 shamelessness, and where innocence shrinks timidly away 
 from contact with those wretched outcasts who have sacri- 
 ficed themselves, body and soul, to man and sin ! She forgot 
 all, save that her husband was dying was alone and no 
 one near to help him, and again she gasped out,
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 55 
 
 " He will die ! lie will die ! all alone, and I have left 
 him. You must not keep me." 
 
 " I don't keep you ; go along and I'll go with you ; 
 come !" said the ruffian, passing his arm around her waist 
 and pressing her to him. 
 
 But with almost superhuman strength she pushed him 
 aside, and panting for breath fled away. He followed and 
 she heard his steps as he came up to her, and clasping both 
 her wrists in his hands, held her perfectly still while he 
 peered with a maudlin grimace into her face, saying, 
 
 " Not so fast, my beauty ; come, give me a kiss just one 
 and don't you try to run away from me again." 
 
 " For God's sake let me go ;" shrieked Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, of course, we'll both go, you needn't be so 
 shy come, where do you live ?" 
 
 " Is there no help 1" 
 
 " None that I know of just at this minute," said he, mock- 
 ingly, " there's the charlies, but you can't depend upon them 
 at no time when you want them." 
 
 " Mrs. Hervey gave one loud and prolonged shriek, and 
 struggled violently, when she felt his hot breath again upon 
 her cheek at the moment she caught the sound of the 
 watchman's rattle and again screamed, " Help 1 help !" as 
 she heard him coming towards them with quick and length- 
 ened strides. 
 
 The villain, seeing that he was going to be disappointed 
 of his prey, uttered a fearful curse and threw her from him
 
 56 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 with such force that she fell violently upon the pavement, 
 and fled. 
 
 The watchman soon came up, and taking her roughly by 
 the arm drew her upon her feet saying, 
 
 " What's the row here ? drunk ? eh ! Say ! looke here 
 now, what's all this yelling about ? Hallo ! you wak e 
 up ;" and he shook her till he aroused her from her insensi- 
 bility. 
 
 As her senses returned, the condition of her husband 
 rushed upon her recollection and revived her energies. She 
 gasped out, 
 
 " Oh, tell me where there is a physician, my husband is 
 dying !" 
 
 " Your husband ! Why, what are you out at this time 
 of night for, if you have a husband ?" 
 
 " He is alone and dying, and I am not near him. Can 
 you tell me where there is a physician ?" 
 
 The discerning watchman soon discovered from her 
 voice and manner that her grief was deep and unfeigned, 
 and he replied : 
 
 " Was it you I heard scream ? It is so dark just in this 
 shadow that I couldn't see any one until I came out of that 
 alley." 
 
 " Yes, ~as I was hastening for a physician I was overtaken 
 and assaulted by a ruffian who fled on hearing your step. 
 But I must go. He may already be dead will you direct 
 me?"
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 57 
 
 " Yes, come along this way. What's the matter with 
 your old man ?" 
 
 " Oh, he's dying of consumption, and to-night he has burst 
 a blood-vessel in coughing, and he'll die, he'll die before I 
 can get there," said she, wringing her hands in agony. 
 
 " Not much use getting a doctor, then," he responded, 
 bluntly. 
 
 " Yes, yes, he must be helped ; are we almost there ? 
 Faster, faster." 
 
 " Yes, here it is right here. This is the one no I'm 
 mistaken I don't find his name he must have moved," 
 said the watchman, hesitatingly, and going into the street to 
 get a better survey of the block. 
 
 " I have it ; I was mistaken in the house," he continued, 
 as he returned to the sidewalk. " It's this other house 
 this is it where in thunder is the bell-knobnow I've found 
 it," he exclaimed, as he gave the bell a vigorous jerk, and 
 then waited in silence for an answer. 
 
 Soon a window was raised above, a head thrust out, 
 exclaiming : 
 
 " Hello there, what do you want ?" 
 
 " Here's a woman down here, doctor, that wants you in a 
 good deal of a hurry." 
 
 " Be down in a minute," was the brief reply, as the head 
 disappeared from the window, and in a few minutes they 
 heard the key turn in the door which was set wide open, 
 and the doctor inquired : 
 
 " Well, what's the matter ? 
 
 3*
 
 58 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey then stepped up, and said : "Will you 
 please to go with me and see my husband. I will pay you, 
 sir." 
 
 " I will go certainly, if I can be of any service ; but 
 there'll be tune enough to talk of pay when the work is 
 done. But who is your husband, and where do you live ? 
 and what is the matter with him ?" asked the blunt doctor, 
 all in a breath. 
 
 "He has got the consumption, I suppose," said Mrs- 
 Hervey, despondingly, and then added with vehemence : 
 " Come quick, if you will go, or he will bleed to death." 
 
 " So that's it, eh ? humph, I see it all," grunted the 
 doctor, as he walked away, leaving them standing on the 
 steps. 
 
 " Oh, what shall I do ? what shall I do ? if he would 
 only go at once," said Mrs. Hervey, bursting into tears." 
 
 " There, woman, don't take on so. He'll go to be sure 
 he will. I'd like to see Doctor Foster refuse to go to see 
 any poor creature either by night or by day I reckon it's 
 a bad case that he don't try to help. So cheer up, he'll be 
 ready in a minute. There's many a poor man in the ward 
 has reason to bless Doctor Foster, and to remember him, too, 
 the longest day he lives. He's none of your hard-hearted 
 ones, that go only into the gentlemen's houses, where they 
 are sure of their fees. I've known him now, let me see, it's 
 going on seven years, and I've never known him yet to 
 refuse, either in summer or winter, to go when sent for, let 
 alone the times he has gone of his own accord to visit
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VEND OK 8. 59 
 
 widows and such like poor people, wlio hadn't the heart to 
 send for him when they knew they couldn't pay him." 
 
 The kind-hearted watchman continued talking in this 
 strain while they were waiting, in order that he might tem- 
 porarily divert the attention of Mrs. Hervey from the cause 
 of her grief. 
 
 " There he comes ; I told you so," he joyfully ex- 
 claimed, as the doctor made his appearance, prepared to 
 obey the summons. 
 
 The latter had added to his apparel a rough overcoat, 
 while under one arm he held a heavy cane of thorn, with 
 a fancifully carved head of ivory. This was his constant 
 and only companion on his midnight walks through the city. 
 Under the other arm he held a small morocco case of medi- 
 cines. This he carried with him in cases of emergency, 
 hi order that there might not be the delay of sending to a 
 druggist. 
 
 He locked the door, and plunging both hands into the 
 capacious pockets of his overcoat, briefly asked : 
 
 " Which way ?" 
 
 " This way, this way," said Mrs. Hervey, starting off 
 rapidly towards her own abode, and turning her head to see 
 if the doctor was following. 
 
 " Yes, I'm coming ; run on as fast as you please, I'll be 
 close behind you," called out the doctor, as he noticed her 
 look. 
 
 " Well, good-night," said the watchman, as they started.
 
 GO OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " i reckon you won't want me any longer, so I'll be off about 
 lay business." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey stopped at his salutation. She could not 
 let him go without a word of thanks for his attention, 
 although her thoughts were with him she had left dying at 
 home, and she felt that every moment's delay might prove 
 fatal. But she said as she hurried past him : 
 
 " I thank you very much for your kindness. God will 
 reward you for it." 
 
 The watchman made no reply, but leaning against a sign- 
 post, gazed after them abstractedly, till their rapid steps 
 took them from his sight, when he glided into the shadow 
 of a building, and resumed his solitary duties. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey in her anxiety had reached the stairway 
 leading to her room some time in advance of the doctor, 
 and stood awaiting his approach. 
 
 " You can't mean to say that it is up those stairs," said 
 he, as he drew near and glanced to the top, measuring the 
 distance with his eye. 
 
 " Yes sir ; in the attic." 
 
 " Well, up then. Attic 1 pretty place for a man dying 
 of consumption. Want to get pure air, I suppose, but 
 they'll have to get nearer heaven than this to find it in thia 
 filthy street. Whew, here's a journey before me ; but I 
 must take it slowly. Three times a day up and down these 
 stairs would be about as much exercise as I should want." 
 Muttering thus to himself, the doctor followed slowly after
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDOK8. 61 
 
 Mrs. Hervey up the stairs, and finally stood panting at the 
 top. Before entering, he waited for a moment and looked 
 into the room. At a glance, he comprehended all poverty 
 sickness death. Life's miseries were no sealed book to 
 him. 
 
 He advanced to the bedside, took the sick man's hand, 
 felt his pulse, looked at him intently for a moment, shook 
 his head silently, and turned away. As he turned, he 
 observed Anna, who was gazing anxiously into his face. 
 Her large, dreamy eyes seemed to ask, " Can you help 
 him ?" He understood the mute appeal, and again shook 
 his head sadly, saying : 
 
 " No ! it is too late." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey had turned too, and looked into his face, 
 and there read the confirmation of her worst fears before he 
 had uttered the words. She laid her hand upon that of her 
 husband, saying : 
 
 " Edward, my husband, won't you look at me ?" 
 
 The dying man opened his eyes, and gazed for a moment 
 up into her face, with an expression of tenderest feeling, 
 and then motioned Anna, who stood near, to approach. He 
 placed her where his eyes could rest upon her, and laid his 
 hand upon her bowed head. His lips moved, but no sound 
 escaped them. His wife bent her ear, and heard the whis- 
 pered words : " Mary God bless you Come nearer 
 nearer Anna Good-bye." And then he turned his face to 
 the wall to die. A gasp, a sigh, and all was still. " The 
 silver cord was loosed and the golden bowl broken." They
 
 62 OLD HAtJN, THE PAWNBKOKEK. 
 
 stood waiting another word, a token of recognition, a pres- 
 sure of the hand, but in vain. They were alone in the 
 wilderness of life alone ! 
 
 The Doctor came forward and closed the eyes of the hus- 
 band and father. Then the strength that had sustained the 
 stricken wife deserted her, and she fell senseless, lifeless to 
 the floor. Then did the fatherless child comprehend the 
 measure of her affliction. She knelt beside her mother's 
 helpless form, called her by every endearing name, took her 
 by the hand, and endeavored to raise her from the floor, 
 kissed her lips, cheeks, and forehead ; and pillowed her head 
 upon her arm. As soon as the kind doctor could obtain 
 water, he sprinkled it in the face of the insensible woman, 
 applied restoratives, chafed her hands, and adopted other 
 means within his power, but she revived slowly. His heart 
 was touched by Anna's sorrow, and he tried in his own 
 peculiar way to utter words of consolation. 
 
 " Child, child, don't take on so, she's not dead, hearts 
 don't break so easily, though God knows hers must have 
 been sorely tried. Poor thing ! poor thing 1 but the old doc- 
 tor'll take care of you and her too, you see if he don't." 
 
 " Who is he ? I don't know him," said Anna, looking up 
 in surprise ?" 
 
 " Supposing you don't ; I know him. He's somebody that's 
 got neither kith nor kin to care for him. Would you like 
 to live with me ?" 
 
 " I don't know : there's nobody left now but mother. Oh 1 
 my poor, poor papa, they'll put him in the ground, and I
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 63 
 
 can never see him again," sobbed Anna convulsively, as the 
 tears ran down her cheeks, and fell upon the pale face of 
 her mother. By the constant exertions of the doctor, Mrs. 
 Hervey began to recover her consciousness, but was still very 
 weak, although she attempted to rise. " Don't get up now. 
 Lie still and rest you," said Anna, gently restraining her. 
 
 As the veil of unconsciousness fell from Mrs. Hervey's 
 sight, the dead body of her husband appeared to her, and 
 her seared eye-balls were moistened with tears. From under 
 her closed eye-lids they stole, and eased her aching heart. 
 The doctor observing it, rose from her side and left her. He 
 went to the bed and placed the emaciated form of the dead 
 in as natural a position as he could, and covered it over. He 
 then walked up and down the small room revolving in his 
 mind plans for the future. An arrangement had already 
 suggested itself to his mind, which he had no doubt would 
 be acquiesced in by those interested. He knew from their 
 conversation aud manners, that the persons whom he had 
 that night met in that miserable abode, were not of the mass 
 that they had moved in a different sphere, and although 
 forced by misfortune to live among the rough and degraded 
 inhabitants of the neighborhood ; still he saw that they 
 were although among them not of them. 
 
 He resolved not to desert them, and after waiting for the 
 first burst of grief to subside, he stepped up to Mrs. Hervey 
 aud said : 
 
 " My good woman be quiet. I can do nothing more for 
 you until daylight. So I will leave you now and come again
 
 I 
 
 64: OLD HAUNj THE PAWNBKOKEK. 
 
 in an hour or so. Can you get up and go to the bed if I 
 help you ? Come try." He took hold of her arm and as- 
 sisted her to rise, and with his support she reached the bed 
 and laid down upon it. Anna smoothed the pillow and 
 covered her tenderly, saying : 
 
 " There, mother, you go to sleep, and I will sit here on 
 the bed beside you." 
 
 " Yes ; yes, get sleep if you can ; that's good advice, and 
 I'll be back again before long, and hope I shall find you 
 better," and taking up his hat, and putting his stick under 
 his arm, the doctor started for the door, but before 
 leaving he turned back and said : 
 
 " See here, my little girl, I suppose, you are sleepy, but 
 you must manage to keep your eyes open, for your mother 
 may faint again ; if she should, just sprinkle some cold water 
 
 in her face, and here keep this bottle of salts, she may 
 
 need it ; but don't you let her get up. Mind that, will you ?" 
 
 " Yes sir, but I am not sleepy, not at all," answered Anna, 
 cheered by his kind and affectionate manner, for she felt in- 
 stinctively that a friend had been raised up for her. 
 
 The doctor closed the door, and left them alone alone 
 with the dead." 
 
 For a time they were silent, and then Anna observing 
 that her mother was still weeping, bent over her caressingly 
 and said : 
 
 " Don't cry, dear mother." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey drew her to her bosom and embraced her 
 convulsively. Anna now burst forth into a violent paroxysm
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 65 
 
 of weeping, and her mother let her rest her head upon her 
 breast and weep till her grief had exhausted itself, then she 
 said, in a low, calm voice : 
 
 " Anna, my darling, remember that papa is happy now ; 
 do not weep for him, nor wish him back here to suffer. 
 Only strive so to live that we may go to him." 
 
 " Oh, mamma, mamma, I shall never see him again," 
 sobbed Anna. 
 
 " Not here, my child, but you may go to him. Think 
 how long dear papa has been sick, and how much he has 
 suffered, and be glad that he is free. Oh, God ! thy will be 
 done," groaned Mrs. Hervey, overcome by the intensity 
 of her grief. She would have endured willingly all 
 earthly sufferings if he could have been spared to her. 
 Penury, destitution, starvation, were nothing to be en- 
 dured compared with the death of him she had loved so 
 long and so well. She felt her utter desolation. Even 
 the child upon her bosom was forgotten in the terrible 
 agony of that moment. She exclaimed with hysterical 
 energy : " Never, never more. It cannot be ;" and then 
 sank down upon her pillow, and rested as if in tranquil 
 sleep. Anna's weary eye had begun to droop, when she was 
 startled by her mother crying out, " I cannot breathe give 
 me air I'm suffocating," as she at the same time attempted 
 to throw off the covering, and tossed her arms wildly about. 
 " Stand away, stand away ; help me, Anna ; will you let 
 me strangle ?" Anna sprung quickly to her assistance,
 
 66 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 loosened her dress, and after awhile succeeded in bringing 
 her oat of the hysterical paroxysm into which she had 
 fallen. She became composed, and soon fell asleep. Anna 
 eat down by the bed-side and watched patiently till the cold 
 grey light of morning appeared. She still sat quietly, fear- 
 ing to awaken her mother. But, oh, how her heart ached 
 with the grief that came swelling up from its pure recesses, 
 and found utterance only in convulsive but suppressed sobs. 
 She thought for a moment of what the doctor had said and 
 felt comforted ; but when it occurred to her that he was a 
 stranger, that they had never met before the last night, the 
 fast-reviving hope died within her. But her doubts were 
 soon removed ; for by the time the sun had risen, so that 
 its cheering beams fell upon the floor of the chamber, 
 the door suddenly opened, and the doctor entered. He 
 brought in his hand a bundle which he laid on the table, 
 Baying : 
 
 " Come here, child, and eat something ; a hard night it's 
 been to you, I'll warrant. Too bad, too bad. Sat right 
 there ever since I left, I know, my good girl ; though I 
 had no business to go away and leave you. Didn't sleep 
 any either might better have stayed ought to have 
 known better served me right." Thus he continued mut- 
 tering to himself, as he took Anna up in his strong arms and 
 Bat down with her on his knee, and opened the bundle he 
 had brought. 
 
 " There now, you must eat something ; here, take this."
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDOKS. 67 
 
 Anna hesitated about taking what was offered, looking into 
 his face for a moment, and then glancing towards her 
 mother. He understood the appeal, and added : 
 
 " Eat, eat, child ; I'll take care that she has something 
 whenever she needs it. She don't want anything now. 
 Sleep is better than bread for her ; so eat away," said he, 
 seeing Anna eagerly devour the food that he had brought 
 her. He pressed her slight form closely to himself, mentally 
 resolving that as long as he had anything to spare, she 
 should never again know hunger and want. 
 
 After he saw that she had nearly finished her meal he 
 ?aid to her : " Now, my little girl, tell me your name." 
 
 " Anna Hervey, sir." 
 
 " Very well. Have you any relatives any aunts or 
 mcles, or anything of that sort ?" 
 
 " No, not one ; I had an Uncle William once, but he's 
 dead," said Anna, mournfully. 
 
 " Left all alone, then ; but how would you like to go and 
 live with me ?" 
 
 " And mamma, too ?" 
 
 " Of course mamma too. God bless your little heart, you 
 don't think the doctor such a cruel old man as to separate 
 you from your mother do you ?" said he, stroking down 
 her glossy hair ; " but death '11 do that soon enough I 
 fear." 
 
 Getting up from his seat, and setting Anna upon her feet, 
 he went and looked at Mrs. Hervey, and placing his finger 
 upon her pulse", shook his head, as was his habit when dis-
 
 68 OLD H/LUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 turbed in his mind, or slightly annoyed, and turning to 
 Anna, who was intently watching him, said : 
 
 " Let her sleep till I come back, if she will ; but if she 
 should awake, give her a swallow of this solution, which I 
 will leave for her. I'll be back again soon," said he, as he 
 disappeared through the door. 
 
 He had been gone but a few moments when Mrs. Hervey 
 awoke and attempted to rise, but fell back again, from 
 extreme exhaustion, on her pillow. Anna hastened to put 
 the draught left by the doctor to her lips, saying : 
 
 " Here, mother, take just one taste of this. The doctor 
 left it for you. It will make you feel better." Mrs. Hervey 
 drank of it, and it seemed to arouse her dormant faculties, 
 for she opened her eyes and looked about the room, saying : 
 
 " The doctor, Anna, where is he ?" 
 
 " He has gone again, but he'll be back soon." 
 
 A gentle tap was heard at the door, which was opened by 
 Anna, and there stood Mich. As he saw Anna, he sobbed 
 out, " I cannot go wid ye to-day, Anna, to sell the matches ; 
 for Jonny, the poor boy, is almost gone intirely, and me 
 mother's takin' on so, bad luck to the day we iver left 
 ould Ireland." 
 
 Anna's tears flowed afresh at the sight of another's misery ; 
 she could not speak, but pushing open the door, pointed with 
 one hand to the bed on which lay the lifeless body, while 
 with the other she grasped convulsively his arm. Mich 
 comprehended at a glance, and the sight of her troubles 
 made him forget his own. He knew that he could offer no 
 
 I
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 69 
 
 consolation, and he did not attempt it, but his first thought 
 was of their bodily comfort. 
 
 " Anna, are ye hungry ? shall I bring ye something to 
 ate ?" said he after standing for a few moments and contem- 
 plating the sad scene. 
 
 " No no ! Mich I am not hungry, but I cannot go to- 
 day either I don't know what I shall do," said Anna. 
 
 " Is yer mother ailin' ?" 
 
 " Yes ! Mich. But the doctor has given her some medi 
 cine, and she'll be better soon but oh ! my dear father. 
 I shall never hear him speak again ;" and Anna sank down 
 on the floor and gave way to her grief. Mich kneeled down 
 by her side, pulled down her hands from her face, and wiped 
 her eyes with a corner of her apron, saying : 
 
 " Now don't take on so, Anna ; its no use, ye can't change 
 it so don't cry afther that fashin', thry to kape a stout 
 heart. Now dotUt ye, Anna, be takin' on so," while the 
 tears were slowly trickling down his own cheek, but he 
 heeded them not. 
 
 The sound of footsteps suddenly arrested their attention. 
 They started up, but not before the doctor had observed 
 them and heard also Mich's words of consolation. Stop- 
 ping be-fore them he said : 
 
 " That's a fact boy there's no use of crying, misfortune 
 and sorrow will come to all of us sooner or later. But who 
 are you ?" 
 
 " I am Mich Lynch, sir." 
 
 " Yery likely, but where do you live ?"
 
 70 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Oh, doctor, this is Mich that went with me yesterday to 
 sell matches, and he came to tell me that he could not go 
 to-day," answered Anna. 
 
 " Went with you to sell matches ? Eh ! humph ! and he 
 can't go with you to-day ? No, I'll warrant he can't, nor 
 to-morrow either." 
 
 " Oh I I must go and sell some, so as to buy us something 
 to eat," said Anna earnestly. 
 
 " Must ? eh ! Didn't I tell you about an old doctor that 
 wants just such a little girl as you are to go and live with 
 him ? Don't you believe me ? I tell you if you've got any 
 more matches to sell, I'll buy them. But you are not going 
 into the street again to peddle them, that's sure ;" said the 
 doctor, emphatically, as he pushed rapidly by her, and turn* 
 ing to a man that had followed him said as he beckoned 
 him to approach, and speaking in a low tone. " There is 
 the body, now do all decently but quietly." And the 
 undertaker advanced to the bed to commence his work. 
 The noise of their entering had aroused Mrs. Hervey, and 
 seeing men in the room she started up. But the doctor laid 
 his hand upon her shoulder and said : 
 
 " Lie down you must keep quiet ;" and the doctor stood 
 so as to screen from her view, the attendant, who busied 
 himself about the body. 
 
 " How-do you feel now ?" he inquired. 
 
 " Better I must get up." 
 
 " No you must not lie still, my good woman I will see 
 that everything is attended to."
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 71 
 
 " Oh, sir, I have no money I cannot pay you. I have 
 only these few things left which will scarcely bury him, and 
 then " 
 
 "Don't talk, of pay, there '11 be time enough for that 
 hereafter but this is not a suitable place for you in your 
 present state, and although I should be willing to leave 
 matters of business to another time, yet I must inquire what 
 are your intentions for the future ?" 
 
 " I have formed no plans for the future, as yet, doctor, 
 nor do I know where we shall go to, when we leave this 
 room ;" answered Mrs. Hervey despairingly. 
 
 " It was for this very reason that I inquired," continued 
 the doctor, " Now I am a plain sort of a man, and may 
 speak too bluntly sometimes, and may give offence where I 
 do not intend it but I am in want of some one to take the 
 supervision of my household my house-keeper has left me, 
 and I have not been able to obtain any one to supply her 
 place. If you would remove to my house with your child 
 and accept the place ; my doors are open to you as long 
 as you may wish to remain and you shall find a home for 
 both of you." 
 
 "Oh! Sir, you are too good. I should be glad to do 
 anything in my power, but I am afraid we should become a 
 burthen upon you." 
 
 " Never fear, never fear, well, that's settled then. I will 
 see that everything that may be necessary be done for the 
 funeral, which had better take place this afternoon, so that 
 you and Anna can go to my house before night."
 
 72 OLD II A U N , THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Must it be so soon ? Can not you wait till to-morrow ?" 
 asked she. 
 
 " Better not. You must not stay another night in this 
 miserable place. It is hard to part with him, but it will be 
 equally hard to-morrow," replied the Doctor rather abruptly. 
 He knew that it would be better for her, in her then preca- 
 rious condition, to have the last sad rites performed, without 
 unnecessary delay ; that until then there was little proba- 
 bility of her gaining. And although his manner and words 
 might have appeared harsh, still it was for the purpose of 
 sparing her any unnecessary suffering that he desired to 
 hasten the burial. 
 
 "Do as you think best. I leave it to you." 
 
 The Doctor noticing that the undertaker was about leav- 
 ing the room, turned to Anna, who had been standing near 
 him, since Mich left, during the conversation, and said : 
 
 " Anna, sit by your mother now, but don't talk too much, 
 be quiet, and I will send something up for her to eat, and 
 for you, too. I rather think you must need something more 
 by this time. I must go now and see some patients, but I'll 
 be back in time this afternoon remember to keep quiet." So 
 saying, their kind-hearted friend left them, to send up some 
 more nourishing food from a neighboring restaurant. It 
 soon appeared. Anna's hands trembled with eagerness, as 
 she took the, to her, rare delicacies from the somewhat as- 
 tonished man. Hardly waiting for him to leave, she ran 
 eagerly to her mother's side, exclaiming, " Look, mother, 
 look, and see what we have got you must eat now," and
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 73 
 
 seating herself, the two enjoyed, what had been to them 01 
 late a rare luxury an abundant meal. 
 
 After they had satisfied their hunger, Mrs. Hervey said to 
 Anna : 
 
 " Come, now, my daughter, lie down by me, and go to 
 sleep. You have been awake all night. I will watch by 
 your dear father's bed." 
 
 " No, mother, I will sit by you, I am not very sleepy," 
 said Anna. 
 
 " I am better now, thanks to the kind Doctor, and shall 
 not need you." 
 
 "Will you call me, mother, if you need anything ?" 
 
 " Yes. I will not get up," answered Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 Anna then laid down close beside her mother, and was 
 soon in a quiet slumber. Then Mrs. Hervey laid and pon- 
 dered upon all the sad events of the past twenty-four hours. 
 Every look, word, and tone of the last moments of her hus- 
 band's life came vividly back to her. She thanked God that 
 he had raised up to them, in this their hour of need, a friend, 
 and she prayed for resignation and for strength, to bear up 
 under the burthen of her afflictions. 
 
 Some author has truly written, " The rain falls lightly 
 upon the bud rests upon the bosom of the flower, and 
 weighs down only that which has lived its day." She was 
 the crushed and broken flower. No sun of happiness or 
 hope could ever rise to lift the shadowy mists from her spirit. 
 It had set, in clouds and darkness, long ere her life had 
 reached its noon. She prayed that her dear child might 
 
 4
 
 74 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 never again know the bitterness of this hour. She prayed 
 that He, who giveth food to the young ravens which cry, 
 would not let her little one suffer. Hours passed, and Anna 
 still slept. No kind neighbor came with aid or consolation. 
 Each one of the many occupants of the house was absorbed 
 with his own selfish wants and troubles. They had not even 
 sympathy to expend upon another's woes. 
 
 Thus she lay until the middle of the afternoon, when the 
 door was opened by a rough-looking man, who, with the as- 
 sistance of the undertaker, brought in a coffin, and placed 
 it upon the table. They then went to the bed and prepared 
 
 to remove the corpse. But Mrs. Hervey stopped them, 
 saying : 
 
 "Not yet wait but one moment, I must see him once 
 more." 
 
 The noise they had made in entering had awakened Anna, 
 who started up rubbing her eyes, and hardly comprehending 
 what was passing, but her mother's words had fully aroused 
 her, and she said : 
 
 " No, mother, you can not get up." 
 
 "Yes ! I can, and must." 
 
 "Let me help you, then," said one of the men kindly. 
 With their united assistance she rose and tottered to the 
 side of the corpse, opened wide her tearless eyes, and gazed 
 for a moment, and then fainted. The hearts of those rough 
 men were touched by her grief they supported her, and 
 took her gently in their arms and laid her on her bed ; put 
 water to her lips, and assisted Anna in her efforts to revive
 
 THE LITTLE MATCU VENDORS. 75 
 
 her. She lay for some time insensible, and Anna fluttered 
 around her like a frightened bird. But as soon as consci- 
 ousness returned, she sat down quietly by her mother, and 
 watched the men as they placed all that was left of her be- 
 loved father in his narrow tenement. 
 
 When they were about to fasten the lid, she started up 
 with an anguished cry : 
 
 " Oh, let me see him once more." 
 
 " Come, then, poor thing, but be quick," said one. 
 
 She leaned over the coffin, but tears filled her eyes. 
 
 " Come, child," said the undertaker. 
 
 " Yes, I am ready ;" and she bent over and pressed her 
 quivering lips upon the cold forehead, and then turned away 
 calmly and composedly. 
 
 But she could not maintain her composure long ; throw- 
 ing herself upon the bed by the side of her mother, she 
 wept convulsively. 
 
 " Anna, my dear child, be calm," said Mrs. Hervey, as 
 she clasped her to her bosom. Oh, what a refuge are the 
 arms of a mother, what a resting-place her bosom, what 
 love like hers. " One God, one heaven, one mother." 
 
 And as they lay thus in each other's arms, the husband 
 and father was borne away from their sight forever. In a 
 retired nook they laid him under the sod, and the bustle 
 and tumult of life went on as before. 
 
 The eccentric, but kind-hearted doctor had made suitable 
 arrangements for a burial-place a place that they might 
 visit. He had taken a sudden and unusual interest in the
 
 76 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 family, but why, he himself could not tell. Was it that, as 
 he stood by the dying man, and looked upon his forsaken 
 family, his mind recurred to the time, when he too knelt 
 by a weeping mother's side to receive a dying father's bless- 
 ing ? Was it because thought had coursed over the years 
 of privation, toil, and patient endurance borne by that 
 mother to keep him, her child, from wretchedness and sin ? 
 Was it because, as he looked upon Anna's angel face, he 
 thought how much harder it would be for her, than it 
 had been for him, to struggle with a heartless, selfish 
 world ? 
 
 Whatever may have been his thoughts, or the inducement, 
 he determined that from thenceforth they should be friends, 
 and inseparable. And after having personally superin- 
 tended the interment, he returned, sadly and musingly, to the 
 city, and set about carrying into effect the arrangements pro- 
 posed by himself. He went to his own house, and procured 
 warm blankets to protect the sick woman from the chill 
 winds that were now whistling through the streets ; and 
 ascending the stairs entered the room, and said, in a quick 
 tone of voice : 
 
 " Come, now, we'll move to my house, if you are ready. 
 Come, my little girl, move lively, it's getting dark. Here, 
 put this nice warm blanket around your mother, and get her 
 bonnet and your own." 
 
 Anna brought the browned and weather-beaten straw hat, 
 that had served her mother for a long time, and put it upon 
 her head, and tied it on, and then exerted her own strength
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDORS. 77 
 
 to assist her mother to rise and seat herself upon one of the 
 shairs. 
 
 " Now, don't faint, my good woman ; keep up if you can 
 till we get home, and then you shall take your time at it. 
 Quick, now, Anna, get your things, don't keep us waiting," 
 said the doctor. 
 
 Anna quickly tied on her bonnet, saying, "Now I'm 
 ready." 
 
 "What, without anything around you 1 wrap something 
 about you, child, it's cold." 
 
 " I have nothing to put on," said she. " But I'm not 
 cold." 
 
 " Well, well, then come along." 
 
 And they started, he almost carrying Mrs. Hervey. She 
 turned and gave one searching glance about the room she 
 was leaving, and a deep sigh escaped her. 
 
 The doctor saw the look, and said : 
 
 " Cheer up, cheer up ; you must not give way to grief 
 any longer. You have a child here who is dependent upon 
 you ; for her sake try to overcome your feelings. I will see 
 to the disposition of the things that you have left." 
 
 " Thank you," was all she could say. They descended 
 the long stairs, up which they had so often toiled, with 
 heavy hearts, and entered the carriage which the doctor had 
 provided to carry them to their new abode. After passing 
 through several streets they reached the plain and substan- 
 tial residence of the doctor, and, on the stopping of the 
 carriage, the door was opened by a tidy-looking Irish ser-
 
 78 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 vant, who seemed to have been on the look-out. She 
 came forward to assist in supporting Mrs. Hervey into the 
 house. How different the scene from that which they had 
 left 1 
 
 A cheerful fire was burning in the grate, which shed a 
 pleasant light and warmth throughout the room. The doc- 
 tor hurried about to see that everything was in order, first 
 here and then there. 
 
 " Biddy," he called, " get a pillow. Have you got the tea 
 ready as I told you ? Hurry yourself now and get a 
 light. What are you in the dark for ? Didn't I tell you to 
 have all things in order. Where's the tea ? Get a cup 
 quick. It will do her a world of good." 
 
 " The tay is all ready, sir. Eight here upon the table, 
 sir." 
 
 " That's right, bring some along and give it to Mrs. Her- 
 vey. You must eat," he said, turning to Mrs. Hervey, " or 
 you'll never get strength. Come, Anna, we'll eat our supper 
 while Biddy waits upon your mother. Here, give me that 
 old bonnet," and taking it from her hands, he gave it a toss 
 and it was soon blazing upon the grate. 
 
 " Oh, my bonnet ! save it ; it's the only one I've got," 
 exclaimed Anna, in terror rushing towards the fire. 
 
 " Well, I should hope it was. I shouldn't want many 
 such. Let it burn, let it burn," said the doctor, chuckling, 
 who felt so happy that he could hardly restrain himself. 
 
 " It was a good bonnet," said Anna, tearfully. 
 
 " Yes ; I suppose it was a good one once, a great while
 
 THE LITTLE MATCH VENDEES. 79 
 
 ago, but we'll see, to-morrow, if we can't find a better one. 
 Corne give me a kiss now, and to-morrow we'll have the 
 prettiest bonnet on Broadway. You don't think I'd let my 
 little girl wear such a thing ; do you ? Nonsense." 
 
 While the Doctor and Anna were taking their meal, Mrs. 
 Hervey sat and mused. She wondered what sudden impulse 
 had induced him to become her friend. She pondered upon 
 the events of the last few hours. She now saw about her 
 comfort and abundance. But a short time since, she suf- 
 fered misery and want ; all seemed to her more like a dream 
 than a reality. And she was thankful that she had found a 
 shelter, even although a temporary one, from the storms of 
 adversity. 
 
 After they had finished, and Biddy had cleared away the 
 things, Mrs. Hervey said : 
 
 " You have taken a great deal upon yourself, Doctor in 
 bringing us here, and I fear we shall burthen you. But God 
 only knows how thankful I shall be for a refuge until I shall 
 become well enough to find some means of supporting my- 
 self and Anna." 
 
 " Humph ! with your leave, we'll let that matter rest for 
 to-night. We can talk over to-morrow about means of 
 supporting yourself. Now, you must go to bed and to 
 sleep." 
 
 At this moment the door-bell rang, and Biddy announced 
 a call for the doctor. " Heigh ho," he sighed as he went out, 
 T wish they would let me alone this evening." 
 
 He was absent for a moment and then re-entered, and
 
 80 OLD n A U N , THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 throwing open the doors of a room adjoining the one in 
 which they sat, said : 
 
 " I must go away now, but here is a room that you and 
 Anna can occupy. I have never had any use for it, but it is 
 iust the room for you." 
 
 " Biddy, did you fix up the room as I told you ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. As well as I could in the short time you gave 
 me, sir." 
 
 " Well ! well ! what there is wanting to-night we'll make 
 up to-morrow ; yon san help Mrs. Hervey to bed now, and 
 see that everything is supplied. For I must be off." 
 
 Biddy and Anna helped Mrs. Hervey into the next room, 
 and into the bed prepared for her, and Anna laid beside 
 her and both soon slept. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey, after the sad events of the day, turned rest- 
 lessly on her bed, and her mind wandered. Present and 
 future were as nothing. She dreamed of the past. She 
 was a girl again a simple girl in her own native home, 
 and she roamed through the old maple grove with the 
 schoolmaster by her side, while the fresh breeze of Spring 
 fanned her cheek. The schoolmaster, and then the lover, 
 and then again the husband. But the dream changed, and 
 with a start she awoke, and consciousness brought the stern, 
 sorrowful reality. She slept again, and again her wandering 
 thoughts brought back the joys and sc?rows of the past. 
 Thus wore away the night. 
 
 But the sleep of childhood was undisturbed. Anna slum- 
 bered on as quietly and placidly as though she had never 
 known either anxiety or grief.
 
 THESEAKCH. 81 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE SEARCH. 
 
 " WELL, old fellow, here I am again ; sooner than you 
 expected ! eh ? Now for the watch 1 There's the money," 
 
 said Cornell, in his usual blustering manner, as he walked 
 
 I 
 into the pawnbroker's shop and laid on the counter a number 
 
 of bills. 
 
 "Ah ! yes ! your watch," said Haun, hesitatingly. 
 
 " Yes, my watch." 
 
 " But I thought you wanted the money for a month." 
 
 "Well ! supposing you did, you find now, that I want it 
 only for ten days, so count the money and stir yourself." 
 
 " But the interest I must hare something for my trouble. 
 I shall have to charge you the same as if you had kept the 
 money for the whole month." 
 
 " Oh 1 hang the interest, take it and count away or if 
 you can't I will look ! now. Is that a V. ? look sharp. Is 
 that an X., and that, and that, and that, and that too ?" 
 said Cornell, without waiting for an answer as he rapidly 
 shuffled off the notes, and threw them towards Haun, till he 
 
 4*
 
 82 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 had called off the whole amount. " There, is that enough 
 to pay you ? If it is, then produce that chronometer." 
 
 "You've brought your ticket with you, I suppose ?" 
 
 "Yes, I suppose I hare here it is, No. 3,051." 
 
 " All right, here's your watch." 
 
 " But what trash have you here in this case ?" said 
 Cornell, glancing carelessly around the room, as he put the 
 watch in his pocket, and observing the case of rings, pins, 
 chains, and other articles glitteringly displayed. He went 
 towards them, and turned the articles over carelessly. 
 
 Haun advanced and said, " There are some valuable 
 things there. Perhaps you'd like some of them ?" 
 
 "None that I see ;" answered Cornell. 
 
 " Here's a miniature that I've just bought, finely mounted, 
 and if I am any judge of painting, it was done by a master. 
 None of your common daubs." 
 
 " Very likely," answered Cornell, without looking up. 
 
 " You don't often meet with a chance to get such a fine 
 painting cheap to say nothing of the handsome face," per- 
 sisted Haun, and laid the miniature which he had purchased 
 of Anna, on the counter before Cornell. The latter took it 
 in his hand, looked at it for a moment, and then said with 
 eagerness. 
 " Where did you get this ?" 
 
 " I bought it, where do you suppose ?" 
 
 " When and where ?" 
 
 " Here, in this very place, not ten days since." 
 
 " Who brought it ? tell me quick."
 
 THE SEARCH. 83 
 
 " Well, that's a good deal more than I know." 
 
 " You do know ; once more I say who brought it ?" 
 
 " Is it any of your business where I got it, or who brought 
 it ? If you've any claims upon it, make them known, I don't 
 believe its stolen goods." 
 
 " Tell me who brought it !" shouted Cornell, becoming 
 red with anger, as he thought Haun was trying for some 
 private purpose of his own, to deceive him. 
 
 " You needn't speak so loud, I am not deaf, and more 
 than that you needn't try to frighten me, I've lived too long 
 in this world to be easily scared ; but as you seem to have 
 some sudden fancy for this trinket, and for learning some- 
 thing about it, perhaps I might give you some information, 
 for a proper consideration of course, but don't get excited." 
 
 Cornell stopped and stood a moment gazing at Haun 
 his first- impulse had been to grasp him by the throat, but 
 then he reflected that possibly fortune had discovered to him 
 the first link in the chain of circumstances, which was to 
 lead him to success, in a search which he had undertaken 
 for another, and in which he had hitherto made no progress. 
 He thought that Haun was possessed of information, which 
 was very important, and that he must obtain it now or per- 
 haps lose it forever. He therefore, endeavored to suppress 
 his anger, and said with an appearance of calmness : 
 
 " Haun, you are fond of money, I have not a great deal 
 to spare at present, but circumstances which I need not 
 mention, render it important that I should know who brought 
 this locket here. Name your price, and tell me."
 
 84 OLD HAUN, THE FAWNBEOKEE. 
 
 " As sure as tliere 's a God in Israel, I don't know who 
 brought it here. It was a little girl. I never saw her be- 
 fore." 
 
 " When was it ?" 
 
 " The same morning, or the morning after you brought 
 your watch." 
 
 " It must be her, and no other curse my luck. She here, 
 and almost standing by my very side, and I hunting this city 
 over for her in vain. What sort of a looking girl, and how 
 old was she ? " 
 
 " Oh, she was a mere child nine or ten years old, I 
 should think. There was an Irish boy with her ; but I don't 
 know where they came from, or which way they went." 
 
 " That locket can't have gone out of the family. There 
 is no mistake about it. Perhaps she will come again to re- 
 deem it." 
 
 " No, I bought it of her. I will sell it to you, if you 
 want it so much." 
 
 " I do want it. How much do you ask for it ?" 
 
 " Twenty-five dollars." 
 
 " Twenty-five dollars is a pretty large price for such a 
 trinket, considering that it is an old one. You didn't pay 
 over the half of that ?" 
 
 " It cost me just twenty dollars, and I got it cheap, too ; 
 but, seeing that you seem to be anxious to get it, I offer it 
 to you at a very low rate. You can have it for twenty-five, 
 and no less." 
 
 " Very well, I'll tako it. But if the child who brought it
 
 THE SEARCH. 85 
 
 here should come again, I wish you would manage to detain 
 her, until you can send word to me at the Astor House ; I 
 will pay you well for your trouble." 
 
 " What do you call well ?" asked Haun. 
 
 " I will pay you at a rate, that even you will be satisfied 
 with. Is that enough ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And if you will now undertake to find out where she 
 lives, I'll engage that you shall receive any reasonable price 
 that you can possibly ask." 
 
 " I will do it ; but I should like to know what you want 
 of her." 
 
 " That need not concern you some family matter, possi- 
 bly but we have made our bargain. You keep your part 
 of it, and I will mine." 
 
 " Never fear there 's money to be made. But will you 
 take this picture now ?" 
 
 " Yes, now there is your money. But I did not ask you 
 if she told her name ; probably not." 
 
 "But she did, though. I asked her name, and she said it 
 was Merwin or Derwin, or something like it. No ! let me 
 think," said Haun, meditatively. " Hervey ! that's it 
 that's the name." , 
 
 "It is the one, by Jove. Haun, do you want to make 
 your fortune ? I know you do ; find that girl, and it's 
 made. Not that I care so much myself about it in fact 
 it's somewhat against my interest to have her found, but 
 there are others who are able and willing to pay for it, and
 
 86 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 they'll do it, too. Only find that girl, and you're a lucky 
 man." 
 
 " I will do it, if she's above ground," said Haun, as Cor- 
 nell turned to leave. The latter stopped at the door, merely 
 to remark : 
 
 " I shall be around again in a short time ; and mind and 
 be active, so as to earn the money." 
 
 After Cornell departed, the pawnbroker counted over the 
 money that he had received, muttering : 
 
 " Good ! twenty dollars clear profit. He's after that 
 girl, eh! I wonder why he's so anxious. There's some- 
 thing about it that I don't understand. Poor folks are not 
 ordinarily so scarce, that they'll bring such a price. Yes, 
 I'll go to work and find her ; but I must make well out of 
 it. But, he's looking for her, too. If he should happen to 
 come across her first, then my game's up. I'll go to work, 
 at once. I'll go now," added Haun, as he engaged him- 
 self in arranging his wares. After having done this, and 
 carefully locked his door, he took his way down Chatham 
 street, towards Broadway, stopping wherever he saw a 
 crowd of children together to scrutinize their features, and 
 then went slowly along. 
 
 After reaching Broadway and traversing it a short dis- 
 tance, he turned down Anthony street, where, for some rea- 
 son, he thought he should be successful in his search. He 
 endeavored to recall the name of the boy that had accom- 
 panied Anna, but failed to do so. Still he felt confident he 
 should know either of the children, if he should once again
 
 THESEARCH. 87 
 
 see them. But his wanderings that afternoon were produc- 
 tive of no good results ; for after peering about for several 
 hours, in the dirty alleys and filthy tenements, which in for- 
 mer days loomed darkJv and gloomily up in that part of 
 the city, he returned in a very unpleasant humor to his 
 shop. 
 
 Withdrawing into the cheerless recess that served as 
 counting-room, chamber, and kitchen, and which was, in 
 fact, as already remarked, the only home he had, he made 
 his supper off a dried herring and a few crackers, and after 
 finishing and clearing away the fragments of his banquet, 
 he found that it had become quite dark, and so returned to 
 his shop, and lighted the solitary lamp, that swung dimly 
 in the darkness, like the waning moon in a fog. He knew 
 well enough that his shop needed none of the allurements 
 of brilliant lights, nor the glare of gilded mirrors to attract 
 those who came to visit him. 
 
 His constant thought now was, of the ways and means of 
 finding the child, for the prospect of gain made him deter- 
 mined to succeed, and he had a curiosity to learn why Cor- 
 nell was so anxious to find her. He suspected that there 
 was something beneath the surface which Cornell was 
 unwilling to disclose. In fine, he resolved to fathom the 
 mystery and make himself master of the secret, whatever it 
 might be. The gratification of the twin passions, avarice 
 and curiosity, urged him on. 
 
 The next morning, as soon as he supposed the miserable 
 creatures who lived in B street would be stirring, he
 
 88 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 _, i 
 
 started out again on his search. He fancied somehow that 
 they must be in the neighborhood, for it was the abode of a 
 great many of those who, forced by poverty to seek cheap 
 lodgings, were yet not vicious, and therefore shunned the 
 contaminated quarters of the city. His encounter with 
 Mich had fixed indelibly upon his mind the features of the boy, 
 while he felt certain that he should recognize in an instant 
 the face of the girl. Besides, his mental faculties had been so 
 sharpened by his occupation, that he never forgot a coun- 
 tenance. He had wandered up and down the street for a 
 long tune in vain, and it was getting late in the day. He 
 would not have followed the pursuit so constantly and 
 eagerly, but he feared that Cornell might be engaged on -die 
 same errand or might have engaged others for the purpose, 
 and he could not bear the thought of losing a prize, which 
 he considered in fact already in his grasp. He had also the 
 advantage of Cornell in having once seen the girl. He 
 therefore persevered, but as the morning advanced, he 
 thought best to return to his shop to attend to the regular 
 business of the day, and so he gloomily withdrew. But in the 
 afternoon, as soon as the pressure of business would permit, 
 and even much before his usual tune of closing, he again 
 started out, resolving not to return to light up during the 
 evening, but to continue his labors, for he felt convinced 
 that it was in that neighborhood that his search was to be 
 crowned with success. He wandered as before, up and 
 down the streets, scrutinizing the features of every child that 
 passed him, until the evening had well-nigh worn away,
 
 THE SEARCH. 89 
 
 when his attention was attracted towards a poorly-clad boy 
 who came whistling carelessly along. He . stopped and 
 looked approached a little, and looked again. Could he 
 be mistaken. It was Mich. Haun turned so as to meet 
 him in order that he might make quite sure, and that there 
 might be no appearance of design in the action, he allowed 
 Mich to pass him, and then wheeling suddenly around, as if 
 from a sudden impulse cried out : 
 
 " Here, my boy, stop a minute don't you know me ? 
 how've you been?" without waiting for an answer, he 
 grasped Mich's arm, and continued, " you came with the 
 little girl to sell the locket, didn't you ?" 
 
 " Indade an' I did an' I've not forgotten ye, nor the 
 plisant falin' of yer delicate fingers around me throat ather," 
 answered Mich, in a voice and tone that evidenced but little 
 pleasure in a renewal of the acquaintance. 
 
 " Did it hurt you ?" asked Haun with a grin. 
 
 " You'd best belave it did," answered Mich indignantly. 
 
 " Well ! well 1 you mustn't bear malice. By the way, 
 what did you say your name was." 
 
 " Prehaps I didn't say at all ; but its Mich Lynch if it any- 
 ways concarns ye to know." 
 
 " Ah, yes, Mich Lynch, do you live about here ?" 
 
 " Yes, jist forninst the corner there." 
 
 " Well, Mich, I was waiting for a friend, and I thought I 
 knew you as I passed. I suppose you want to be going 
 home ; so good night, Mich," said Haun, in the kindest man- 
 ner, and started on, but before Mich had had time to turn
 
 90 OLD H A U N , THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 around, Haun stopped suddenly and called to him. Was- 
 n't there a little girl with you, Mich, when you came to sell 
 the locket. Her father was sick. Is he better now ?" 
 
 "No !" answered Mich sadly, " he's dead." 
 
 " Poor man ! and where does she live now ?" 
 
 " Jist what I'd be afther findin' out meself if I could; I've 
 not seen her blessed face this many a long day." 
 
 " Where was she the last time you saw her ?" 
 
 " Up in her home, to be sure." 
 
 " Where was that ?" 
 
 " Over on G strate." 
 
 " Are you sure they are not there now ?" 
 
 " Is it sure that I am, and meself been speerin' around 
 like a ghost, from mornin' till night to get a sight of her ?" 
 
 " Come and show me where they lived." 
 
 " Faith an' that's easily done," said Mich, starting off with 
 the pawnbroker. He went the more willingly as he saw 
 the anxiety of the pawnbroker to discover her, and hoped 
 through his means to be able himself once more to find 
 her. As they came to a dilapidated and smoky tenement, 
 Mich skipped up the stab's, closely followed by his companion. 
 They reached the attic, and Mich pushed open the door, but 
 all was dark, vacant, and cold. 
 
 " There, sir, ye see, there's not a soul there," said Mich, 
 stepping back. 
 
 " How many of them were there ?" inquired the pawn- 
 broker, as he gazed into the room. 
 
 " Only three, and the father's dead intirely."
 
 THESEARCH. 91 
 
 " Perhaps we can find out by some of the people in the 
 house where they went to," said Haun. 
 
 " Not a bit of it, I've thried it meself. Sorry a one knows 
 anything about them." 
 
 " I'll try at any rate. But what have you been looking 
 after them for ?" inquired Haun. 
 
 " I'm lookin' afther them, because they are me frinds, and 
 have seen throuble like myself." 
 
 " Well, what could you do for them, supposing you could 
 find them ?" continued Haun, sneeringly. 
 
 " Troth, an' there's nothing under the blessed light of 
 Heaven that I wouldn't do for thim, thin," answered Mich 
 indignantly. 
 
 Haun did not reply, but went along to a door, and opening 
 it thrust his head in and said : 
 
 " My good woman, can you tell me anything about the 
 that lived above you here ?" 
 
 " The man that died of consumption last week ?" answered 
 a coarse woman in a rough voice. 
 
 " Yes, that's the one." 
 
 " How should I know ? I didn't follow after him to the 
 grave." 
 
 " But the others can't you tell where they went ?" 
 
 " No, I have my own brats and business to mind, 
 and don't meddle with other's affairs. But my Bill said 
 that he seed them go off with a man after dusk, and the 
 next mornin' a cart came and took off their things ; and 
 precious few things they had too."
 
 92 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBBOKEB. 
 
 " Didn't you hear them say where they were going- ?" 
 persisted Haun." 
 
 " I've told you all I know about it and shan't tell you 
 anything more," answered the woman, as she turned away. 
 The pawnbroker inquired of others, but with like success. 
 All that he could learn was that they went away in the even- 
 ing with some person. No one knew who, and he was 
 obliged to leave without learning anything farther. But he 
 felt that he had been as successful as he could reasonably 
 expect. He had discovered Mich, and doubted not through 
 him to hunt up the girl. He felt that he had sowed the 
 seed of success which with proper attention would germin- 
 ate and ripen into full fruition. 
 
 Therefore, as they were about parting he said to Mich : 
 
 " Mich would you like to earn something ?" 
 
 " Indade an' I should, sir." 
 
 " Well ! I'll give you a chance ; come to me early hi 
 the morning." 
 
 " I'll not fail, sir." 
 
 As soon as the stores of the city were opened in the morn- 
 ing Mich made his way to the pawnbroker's shop and stood 
 impatiently waiting to learn in what manner he was to be 
 employed, while Haun was engaged in taking down the 
 shutters, and arranging his place of business for the day. 
 
 After he had finished these duties, he turned around, and 
 seeing Mich, said abruptly : 
 
 " So you're here." 
 
 " Yes sir, and are ye ready to tdl me what ye'd like ma 
 to do ?"
 
 THESEAKCH. 93 
 
 " Of course, I'll tell you what I want of you the little 
 girl that we were speaking of last night, and who came with 
 you to sell the locket ; let me think, what's her name ?" 
 
 " Hervey," suggested Mich, " Anna Hervey." 
 
 " Ah, yes! Hervey, that's the name has got a friend that 
 wants to find her. He has written to me to seek her out ; 
 perhaps he wants her to live with him, so that he may take 
 care of her. Now, as I want to oblige him, I'll give you 
 something handsome to discover where she is. I'll give you, 
 let me think, I'll give you a quarter." 
 
 " A whole quarter of a dollar ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mich, a whole quarter of a dollar. I guess that's 
 more than you've had in a long time," said Haun, who 
 began to regret having made so liberal an offer, and to 
 wonder whether a shilling would not have done quite as 
 well. However, he determined to remedy his indiscretion 
 whenever pay day should come, and so said : " Well, now 
 be off, but remember, if you learn anything of her to tell no 
 one but me." 
 
 Mich was off as soon as Haun had finished speaking. He 
 ran home to his mother, and told her of what he considered 
 his good luck to get pay for finding Anna Hervey. Just 
 the thing he was himself anxious to do, with or without 
 pay ; and then he commenced his search. Up and down he 
 wandered through the cold and dreary day ; after thinking 
 he saw her in the distance, and as often disappointed. 
 Night came on, and he had accomplished nothing. Cold, 
 hungry, an 1 discouraged, he returned to his mother and to 
 his home. But she had been more fortuoate, for she had
 
 94. OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 obtained something for them to eat ; without this providen- 
 tial provision he would have gone supperless to bed. 
 
 During the sickness of Jonny, Mrs. Lynch had sat and 
 nursed him constantly, and would have suffered from hun- 
 ger, had not some of her kind-hearted countrywomen sup- 
 plied her wants. But this they could not continue to do, 
 for it was a difficult matter at all times for them to pro- 
 vide for themselves alone, without sharing with others. 
 And therefore, as soon as Jonny had somewhat recovered, 
 they tendered their services one after the other so as to 
 partially divide the burthen, in taking care of him while his 
 mother might be out, endeavoring to earn something for 
 their support. She had sought in vain for work ; no one 
 had any for her or was willing to employ her ; until on the 
 day of Mich's engagement by the pawnbroker, she had 
 chanced to obtain some menial employment, and with a 
 willing heart had endeavored to do her best. Being, how- 
 ever, unaccustomed to the kind of work, she had not given 
 perfect satisfaction ; but her sad face had interested the 
 lady by whom she was engaged, and she therefore, after 
 making some inquiries, had paid her two shillings, and 
 desired her to come again the next day. Mrs. Lynch felt 
 grateful for the pittance she had received, and although 
 worn out in body, returned with a light heart to her home, 
 to enjoy the fruits of her own toil. Four hours of severe 
 labor for two shillings ; but she was a woman ! Yet, who 
 among the opposite sex would have toiled as she had for the 
 paltry recompense of two shillings ? even the wood sawyer
 
 THE SEARCH. 95 
 
 wouid scorn it. Fortunately there were but few mouths to 
 fill, but how often has the poor widow to provide food, shel- 
 ter, and clothing for a family of from four to six children 
 out of fifty cents per day. 
 
 Let those who spend their time sitting in counsel upon 
 the fancied wrongs of their own sex, give their attention to 
 the real burthens borne by them, and their time would be 
 well spent, and their exertions rewarded by the blessings of 
 the fatherless and the widow. 
 
 Let those who claim for their own sex, rights which God 
 and Nature never designed for them, and who waste their 
 means and sympathies upon imagined sufferings, look upon 
 the stern and cruel realities of life, and devote their wealth 
 to succoring the needy, feeding the hungry, clothing the 
 destitute, ministering to the sick, and they shall find no 
 longer a necessity for drawing upon their imagination for 
 subjects of charity. 
 
 There is many a poor woman who, like Mrs. Lynch, would 
 gladly provide for the wants and comforts of her family, 
 had she the sinew and strength to wear out in doing so. 
 
 The two shillings so hardly earned barely provided her- 
 self and Mich, and the still suffering Jonny, with sufficient to 
 satisfy their hunger for the night, and something for their 
 breakfast. A fire they were not able to have, but ate their 
 supper with chilled hands, and then wrapped them in their 
 scanty blankets, and went to sleep. But little was left to 
 them. The contents of their once well-filled chest had 
 gradually gone into v .he hands of the pawnbroker, for the
 
 96 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 purpose of obtaining money to satisfy the demands of their 
 landlord ; and now, if they should not be able at once to 
 earn something by getting employment, they would be forced 
 to resign even the miserable shelter that they had. But 
 Mrs. Lynch's good fortune cheered their sad hearts, and 
 they went to sleep that night with hopes of a brighter 
 future. 
 
 With the first light of morning they were awake and up, 
 and their breakfast having been dispatched, they were on 
 their way to the place of the previous day's labor. Mich 
 accompanied his mother, for he wanted to learn where she 
 was engaged, and thought possibly he might find also some- 
 thing to do. But he soon found that his presence was not 
 desired, for the lady of the house said she didn't want any 
 children about, so he bade his mother good bye, and went 
 away. She whispered to him : " Mich, darlint, mind Jonny 
 as much as ye can, and come here at noon and I'll give ye a 
 part of me own dinner for yerself and him." 
 
 Mich went away, and commenced again his search, keep- 
 ing on the look out all of the time for a chance to turn an 
 honest penny. He had wandered into Broadway, and stood 
 looking about, when a gentleman in a single carriage drove 
 up to the sidewalk near to where he stood, and jumping out 
 called to Mich : 
 
 " Here, my boy, hold my horse a minute ; won't you ?" 
 
 " Thank ye, sir," said Mich, springing eagerly forward 
 The gentleman left him and passed through an adjoining 
 door. He was gone for a long time, but Mich stood quietly
 
 T H E 8 E A K C H . 97 
 
 holding the bridle and waiting for the return of the owner. 
 The gentleman who had observed, from the window of the 
 office where he was, Mich's care of the animal, was pleased 
 with him, and when he came down to enter his carriage 
 said : 
 
 "What is your name ?" 
 
 "Mich Lynch, yer honor," answered Mich, at the same 
 tune touching his cap. 
 
 " Where do you live ? and what do you do ?" 
 
 " I live with me mother, and do anything that I can 
 get to do that's honest." 
 
 " Do you like horses ?" 
 
 " I can't be afther sayin' till I've tried." 
 
 " Would you like to take care of my horse ?" 
 
 " In coorse I would if ye'd shew me how, and pay me for 
 doin' it," 
 
 "Well, jump up here then and we'll settle the matter by 
 and by, I'm in a hurry now." 
 
 The gentleman entered his carriage, and at his beck, Mich 
 climbed nimbly up, and seated himself hesitatingly beside 
 him. He then for the first tune noticed the meanness of his 
 own apparel, and the contrast between it and that of his 
 new employer, and a feeling of shame crept over him ; but 
 he was so overjoyed to find something to do, that all else 
 was for the moment forgotten. As they rode rapidly along, 
 his mind was occupied with thoughts of the great delight 
 with which his mother would learn the glad tidings of his 
 good fortune. Having gone some distance, the gentleman 
 
 5
 
 98 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 drew up before an elegant mansion and alighting, said to 
 Mich: 
 
 " Now, Mich, hold the horse, don't let him run away with 
 you." 
 
 " Sorra a fear of that, sir," answered Mich, as he grasped 
 the reins rather too tightly to please the restive and high- 
 spirited animal. 
 
 " Mich, you'd better get out and hold him by the bridle," 
 said the gentleman. 
 
 Mich jumped out quickly, for he didn't in the least fancy 
 sitting alone behind the horse, however pleasant it might be 
 to him, when some one else held the reins. 
 
 The gentleman was absent but a few moments, when he 
 returned and took his seat in the carriage. Thus he con- 
 tinued driving rapidly, and anon stopping at some residence 
 for a few minutes, till Mich began to wonder what he could 
 be after but his curiosity was soon gratified for the gentle- 
 man looking at his watch, said : 
 
 " Well, Mich, I shall not want you any more to-day. How 
 would you like to hold my horse every day ?" 
 
 Nothin' better, sir, if ye'd pay me for it." 
 
 " Certainly I shall pay you. How much would you 
 want ?" 
 
 " Anything ye plase, sir." 
 
 " I think we shall agree then. I'll direct you to the stable, 
 and then you can go alone next time; all I shall want of you 
 will be to drive my horse around to my office every morning 
 at nine o'clock, and to hold him for me while I make my
 
 THE SEARCH. 99 
 
 visits, and to take care of my office. Do you think you can 
 do it, and be punctual ?" 
 
 " Sure, there's nothing so very hard about that, sir." 
 
 " Well, then, Mich, I will engage you, and I will pay you 
 well, too, and if you suit me I will do something more for 
 you," said Doctor Marsh, for such was the name and title of 
 Mich's employer. Mich saw the horse properly disposed of, 
 and then inquired : 
 
 " Do you want me any more to-day, sir ?" 
 
 " I don't wish my carriage after dinner, and as it is near 
 four o'clock now, I shall not need you, but you must take 
 care to be in time to-morrow morning remember nine 
 o'clock. I had to dismiss the last boy I had because he did 
 not attend in time. There's a quarter for to-day. I'll give 
 you two shillings a day if you do well," and so saying, the 
 Doctor put into Mich's hand the money. He did not wait 
 to hear anything farther, but started off as fast as his legs 
 could carry him to the place where his mother was at work. 
 
 It was a long way, and Mich was tired and hungry when 
 he had reached it. He stood outside, watching eagerly the 
 door, and starting forward, whenever it opened, glancing 
 from time to time up and around at the windows, and finally 
 sat down on the steps, waiting impatiently to catch a 
 glimpse of his mother for he dared not go inside. He sat 
 until it began to grow dark, when her day's labor being 
 finished, his mother appeared at the door, ready to leave for 
 home. At sight of him, she exclaimed : 
 
 " Och ! Mich, darlint, are ye starved intirely?"
 
 100 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " In fa'th, mother, there's no use denyin' it, I am that 
 same." 
 
 " Quick, then, Mich, and ate this, I've saved it from me 
 dinner. What've ye been about the day ?" 
 
 " Indade ye'd better ask I was holding the horse for the 
 gintleman that's hired me." 
 
 " God bless him, Mich an' are ye hired ?" 
 
 " Sure an' I am, and see the silver that he gave me too." 
 
 " The saints be praised, the lady within hadn't the money, 
 she said, and that I must wait till to-morrow. I was afraid 
 to tell her that I had niver a crust of bread lift for my sup- 
 per, nor for the childer but we'll not nade it now." 
 
 " It's little she'd a cared if ye had a tould her ; but any 
 way, mother, was n't it a mane trick for her to send ye away 
 hungry, after ye're hard labor perhaps she'll not pay ye at 
 all." 
 
 " Shame on ye, Mich, to think such a fine lady 'd be afther 
 chatin' a poor body like me." 
 
 " Small difference 'twixt the two to keep from ye the 
 
 money ye made to buy bread," said Mich, indignantly. 
 
 " Och 1 Mich, ye don't suppose I tould the lady that I was 
 in nade of the money, do ye ? Sure if I had, she'd a given it 
 to me." 
 
 " Troth, an' I wish she had, thin." 
 
 " Niver ye mind, darlint, we're not starvin' yet," said Mrs. 
 Lynch, as they trudged wearily homeward. 
 
 When they had reached it, Mich proposed that they should 
 have a fire, and said that he would just step out and gather
 
 THE SEARCH. 101 
 
 a few blocks, and then call at the grocer's and buy some- 
 thing nice for them, and for little Jonny, who had been left 
 in the care of a kind neighbor, and whom they had found 
 impatiently waiting their return. Mich left, and soon came 
 with a few pieces of board which he had picked up, and ob- 
 taining a coal of fire from a neighbor, soon had a blaze, and 
 then they sat down and partook of their meal, and enjoyed 
 the cheering light and heat of the fire, while Mich detailed 
 all the particulars of the day's adventures and fortunes, until 
 the fire burned low on the hearth, when they turned them 
 to their lowly beds, and were soon soundly asleep. 
 
 Mich went with a light heart the next day to his newly 
 assumed duties, and he gave such satisfaction, that he was 
 permanently engaged at twelve shillings a week. Mich's 
 employer was attracted by his open countenace and intelli- 
 gent look, and became quite interested in him. 
 
 He had not, by any means, forgotten Anna or his engage- 
 ment with the pawnbroker, and was constantly on the alert, 
 wherever he went. And on his way home at night he would 
 go by new and unusual routes, and glance at every attic 
 window that he passed, hoping, in some way, to catch a 
 glimpse of her face. For it had never occurred to him to 
 seek for her in more expensive lodgings, nor to look for her 
 among the host of well-clad children that he constantly met. 
 He continued his search as much on his own account as on 
 account of his promise, for, since he laid the foundation of his 
 fortune by obtaining such a lucrative situation, he could afford 
 to be indifferent to the pittance offered to him by the pawn-
 
 102 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 broker, as the reward of his successful exertions. He avoided, 
 for some days, calling to see him, both because he had been 
 better employed, and because, unless he could carry some 
 tidings of the sought child, he would not be a welcome 
 visitor. Thus time slipped away, Mich, in attendance upon 
 the physician, and his mother obtaining through the day 
 work, wherever and whenever she could, and returning at 
 night to her home, where Mich was always ready to relate 
 his adventures. Their united earnings provided them with 
 the necessaries of life, besides paying the rent of the room 
 in which they lived, but nothing more. Several weeks had 
 elapsed since he had lost all sight and trace of Anna ; and 
 winter, with its storms and winds, sleet and snow, had fairly 
 set in. Christmas time was near. Troops of merry chil- 
 dren thronged the bazaars, attracted by the glittering dis- 
 play. But Mich had no money to waste upon trifles. He 
 must be satisfied with gazing through the showy windows 
 upon the tempting treasures beyond his reach, and listening 
 to the careless laugh of those more fortunate than himself, as 
 they issued from the shops, laden with their purchases. 
 
 It was thus he stood, looking and admiring, before one of 
 the handsome bazaars in Broadway, the evening before 
 Christmas. He was on his way home, and had stopped for 
 a moment to feast his eyes on the profusion of rich and 
 rare articles displayed, when he heard some one exclaim : 
 
 " See, isn't that beautiful ?" The tone of voice pene- 
 trated his ear ; he started, and turned to gaze after the 
 speaker, but all were strange ; he saw no familiar face, yet
 
 THE SEARCH. 103 
 
 he was sure that he knew the voice it was that of Anna. 
 Yet none but well-dressed people were near him. He could 
 not discover the little straw hat and faded shawl in which 
 he expected to find her. Many still stood gazing in at the 
 windows ; many were constantly passing in and out, while 
 others were hurrying past. Mich edged around till he could 
 look into the faces of those who stood there in the full glare 
 of the light. But she was not there. He stood and 
 watched those going and coming out of the bazaar. But 
 she was not among them. After waiting and looking till he 
 knew it would be vain to wait longer, he sighed and turned 
 with a heavy heart towards home. He wondered if it could 
 be possible that Anna would forget him. He was sure he 
 never could her. But then Mich was young, and knew but 
 little of the world, or he would have thought diffirently. 
 
 In the meantime, the pawnbroker had not given up the 
 search. Day after day had he diligently inquired in all 
 sorts of places of all sorts of persons, but in vain. Cornell 
 had visited him often to ascertain if he had learned any- 
 thing of the child. But both were disappointed, and still 
 she was within ten minutes' walk of the pawnbroker's den. 
 
 It might not appear at all strange at the present day if she 
 had lived in the next building to his, and he not have found 
 her ; but in those days it was different. Then a man knew 
 his neighbor, and although the city had even then a goodly 
 growth, still the attempt to find a person whose name did 
 not happen to be in the directory, was not so much like 
 looking for a needle hi a haystack as at the present time.
 
 104 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 On Christmas eve, Cornell again called upon the pawnbro- 
 ker. He found him shivering over a few coals which were 
 smouldering in the grate. He entered the shop as usual, in 
 a boisterous manner, giving the door a slam, but without 
 closing it ; and walking up to the pawnbroker, gave him a 
 slap on the shoulder, exclaiming : 
 
 " How are you once more, old fellow ?" 
 
 " Shut the door ; what's the use of having a fire and 
 paying for coals, if we've got to warm the whole city ?" 
 said Haun, querulously. 
 
 " A fire ! ha 1 ha ! ha ! You don't call that a fire, do 
 you ?" 
 
 " What would you call it, I'd like to know ?" 
 
 " I should think you'd lit a cigar and laid it in the grate. 
 In fact, man, you need your glasses on to see any fire at aH. 
 Put on more coal ; heap it up, let's have a roaring fire ; it's 
 infernally cold to-night." 
 
 " No, I shan't, I'm warm enough. If you don't like it 
 here, go where it's warmer." 
 
 " You won't, eh ? well, then, I will. Here goes. I'm 
 bound to get warm before I leave here," said Cornell, as he 
 caught up the coal scuttle and emptied its contents into the 
 grate. 
 
 " Stop that ; you've put on enough to have lasted me all 
 day to-morrow, and it's 'most bed time too ; but you'll pay 
 for it some day." And Haun stooped over and picked off 
 with his fingers as many of the pieces of coal as he could 
 before they became ignited. He did not get enraged, as he
 
 THE 8 E A li C II . 105 
 
 would have done, if almost any other person in the world 
 had presumed to do such an act ; but Cornell had a reck- 
 less, devil-may-care way with him, and Haun thought 
 discretion the better part of valor, and therefore concluded 
 to take it quietly, looking to the future for compensation for 
 all damage and suffering. 
 
 "Let the coal alone now, and get warm for once this 
 winter," said Cornell. 
 
 " What is it to you whether I'm warm or cold ?" 
 
 " Whether you are warm or cold, not the least concern in 
 the world, I assure you ; but if you are determined to freeze 
 yourself, you've no right to freeze your visitors. So as 
 we are going to have a little business together, I am 
 going to get warm first." 
 
 " I don't know whether we are to have any business toge- 
 ther or not." 
 
 " Well, if you didn't know it before, you'll learn it now ; 
 we are." 
 
 " Well, what is it then ?" said Haun, with a stolid expres- 
 sion, and without looking up. 
 
 Cornell continued without noticing the question, "I've 
 got some business, and I'm going to throw you a bait that 
 you'll snap at as a gudgeon does at a fly. But first, I want 
 some news of the girl. Have you any trace of her? Is 
 your fortune made or not ?" 
 
 " No," abruptly answered Haun. 
 
 " That's bad. I've got done looking." 
 
 " You ha'nt found her ?" asked Haun anxiously. 
 
 5*
 
 106 
 
 " No, I have not, and what's more I don't expect to, and 
 what's more still, I don't want to," said Cornell. 
 
 " Why, what's come over you ?" asked Haun. 
 
 Cornell did not reply, but looked fixedly at Haun a mo- 
 ment and then said: 
 
 " Haun, I told you I'd got some business with you. I've 
 got an idea of something whereby we can both of us make 
 a trifle, if you are willing." 
 
 " Willing ! why not. I'm always ready to make mon^y 
 now what is it ?" 
 
 " All in due time. I told you I had got an idea it came 
 to me suddenly and now I can't get rid of it strange I 
 never thought of it before it's worth a mine. But you 
 need'nt look any longer for that girl, I don't want to find 
 her." 
 
 " What the devil are you driving at ? Why don't you 
 speak out at once ?" 
 
 " Old man," said Cornell, laying his hand upon the pawn- 
 broker's knee, " I believe you've got the nerve to do any- 
 thing, and have no particular scruples of conscience that's 
 what's needed. I've got a little scheme to carry out and I 
 want you to help me." 
 
 " All very well, but what do you want ? If you've got 
 anything to say why say it, and then have done." 
 
 " Softly, softly, don't get impatient. It's a letter that I 
 want you to write for me. I'll dictate it, and pay you well 
 for your trouble; but you must keep a close mouth about it." 
 
 "No you don't, I'm too old for that," said the pawn-
 
 THESEARCH. 107 
 
 broker, starting back. " No forgery anything that's not 
 inside of the law, and I'm your man, if there's money to be 
 made by it ; but no forgery. I tell you I wont." 
 
 " Shut up your head, you old fool there's no forgery nor 
 anything else that's against the law, so you need'nt fear. 
 But to tell you the truth, from the good character you bear 
 among your acquaintances, I believe you would as soon as 
 not, cut any man's throat at midnight, if there was money 
 to be made by it, and it is for this very reason that I've 
 come to you. But don't get excited there's no throat to be 
 cut, nor any crime to be committed but simply a letter to 
 be written, and it must be done by some one that I can trust 
 under any contingency, and you are the man." 
 
 " Let me see the color of your money and the thing's done. 
 There's my hand upon it," said Haun, warmly. 
 
 " Is there any one about here that can hear us ?" asked 
 Cornell, glancing at the windows and doors. 
 
 " No, not a soul, not a shadow," replied the pawnbroker. 
 ' Now what shall I write." 
 
 " Come a little nearer old fellow, and I'll tell you. I want 
 you to write me a letter saying that Anna Hervey and her 
 father and mother are dead that you attended them through 
 their last sickness as their physician that you often heard 
 Mrs. Hervey speak of a relative she had in New Orleans, 
 from whom she had been separated a great while, and whom 
 she was very anxious to see again and that you wrote at 
 her request, made before her death, etc.; and then sign your 
 name as physician. Will you do it ?"
 
 108 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Not until you tell me why you want me to write it. I 
 take no leaps in the dark," said Haun. 
 
 " If I had supposed you were so very particular I should 
 have said nothing to you about the matter. There are 
 enough others who are willing to turn an honest penny by 
 merely writing a few lines; but as we've begun together 
 we'll go on together. But will you swear never, under any 
 circumstances, in any place, or under any compulsion or per- 
 suasion, to speak of it again ?" 
 
 " Trust me for that. But I don't understand the matter 
 yet, and as I told you, I'll not leap in the dark." 
 
 " Well, well ; I may as well tell the whole story then. You 
 see I have a cousin in New Orleans by the name of William 
 Leonard, who is the brother of this Mrs. Hervey. He has 
 been a sea captain all his life, and has got together a little 
 property say a hundred thousand at least. Well, on his 
 last voyage out he got his leg crushed in a gale, by the 
 swinging around of the boom, and has not been able to move 
 about since ; and so, being obliged to stay cooped up all the 
 time, he begins to think he'd like to have his sister, from 
 whom he's been separated so long, come and live with him, 
 and keep house for him, but he don't know where to look for 
 her. When he got back from one of his voyages to China, 
 he found their mother dead and his pretty sister rocking a 
 cradle of her own. She had married a poor schoolmaster 
 while he was absent, and he was mad enough when he found 
 it out, and immediately left the house; and as the school- 
 master wouldn't let her have any communication with her
 
 THE SEARCH. 109 
 
 brother (even if she wanted to I don't know as she did), 
 he finally lost all trace of them after they moved into this 
 city. But lately, as I said, he is determined to discover 
 them; and so, as he himself could not come, on account of 
 the injury, he sent me up last May to look for them, and I 
 have been stopping at the Astor House, and looking ever 
 since; but with no prospect of success. Now I suppose you 
 begin to understand, eh ? If Leonard believed them all to 
 be dead he'd give it up and be quiet; and then, I being his 
 cousin, and the only living relative that he would have, he'd 
 just make me his heir, and then I'd come in for the whole 
 when he dies which will be before a great while, for he 
 cannot last long. Now you understand the whole thing 
 from beginning to end. Will you do it ?" 
 
 " What will you give me ?" 
 
 ' How much do you want ? Set your own price." 
 
 " Cornell ! let us understand each other plainly. You 
 know well enough that it's not the mere writing of a letter 
 that you are to pay for. There's a little risk in the matter 
 for you as well as for me. I don't know what the law is, nor 
 do I care. Only let me see my way clear and good pay, and 
 I'll stand by you through thick and thin." 
 
 " Yes, yes ! now name your price." 
 
 " You said the property was worth one hundred thousand. 
 Didn't you ?" 
 
 " Yes, about that, more or less ?" 
 
 " Then I nmst have ten thousand dollars ; give me your 
 bond for ten thousand dollars, payable when you come into 
 - possession, if you obtain it through my assistance. "
 
 110 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Devil ! man ! what do you mean ?" 
 
 "A tenth is a small share for such a venture, but then if 
 you can get it done cheaper, do so ; it's all one to me ; there's 
 too much risk in it for me to crave the job." 
 
 Cornell sat and meditated awhile and then said, " Well I 
 a tenth if I succeed, and nothing if I fail." 
 
 " No, I must have pay for my trouble, anyway." 
 
 " Not a cent. I offer you the chance. Take it or not ; 
 I'll not bind myself to pay you anything unless we succeed. 
 We take the risk jointly and share the profits and losses 
 jointly. He's always told me that I should be his heir, and 
 now he's got a crotchet in his head that he must find this 
 sister and her child. I know well enough how it will go if 
 he does find her. She'll get all and I none." 
 
 " Perhaps he would divide it between you," said Haun. 
 
 " So I thought once, and would have been very willing to 
 divide, but I got a letter to-day that settled that," said 
 Cornell, producing a letter. 
 
 " Let me see it, will you " asked Haun, as he extended 
 his hand. 
 
 " I'll read it to you. First, though I must explain a 
 little ; I wrote to him sometime in September for more 
 money ; that was a short time before I brought my watch to 
 you, and he sent me a draft for five hundred, and remarked 
 that he thought I was not using my utmost exertions to 
 find his relatives, and that the trifle remitted must be 
 used in paying my expenses, etc., home to New Orleans. 
 Well, you see, I prefer living in New York, and you know 
 five hundred dollars does not go far in this city, but I did not
 
 THE SEARCH. Ill 
 
 dare to write to him for more money, and so I sent him word 
 that I thought I had got track of his relatives, and hoped 
 to find them very soon alive, and to restore them to him and 
 all that sort of stuff, you know. Well, that letter has made 
 him show his colors, and now I'll be hanged if I find them 
 at all, or if I do he shall never know it." 
 
 " Well ! well 1 read the letter," interrupted Haun. 
 
 " Here it is," answered Cornell, reading. 
 
 " ' NEW ORLEANS, November 80, 18 . 
 41 ' JAMES CORNELL, New York. 
 
 " ' MY DEAR SIR : Your favor has just been received, and I am 
 glad to learn by it that you have at last been able to obtain some 
 tidings of Mary. I wish I could come and join you in the search, but 
 my health will not permit, but let me urge you to leave nothing un- 
 tried to discover her. I am very impatient after our long separation 
 to see my sister again, for I am afraid that my health is failing, and I 
 should be glad to learn that she is still living to enjoy the fortune 
 which I shall leave to her. 
 
 " ' Let me hear from you as soon as possible, and tell me all the 
 particulars. Your Cousin, 
 
 " ' WILLIAM LEONARD.' " 
 
 " Well, Cornell, that seems to settle the question pretty 
 positively, don't it ? But how comes it that you are so depen- 
 dent upon him ?" asked Haun. 
 
 " My father and mother died of yellow fever when I was 
 but ten years old, and Leonard has always provided for me 
 clothed me, and sent me to school. He seemed to take a 
 sort of a fancy to me, and I went two trips with him, but I
 
 112 OLD 1IAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 didn't like the salt water, so I have been clerking it now for 
 three or four years. But I've got tired of that, too, and 
 
 have made up my mind to try a little speculation that may 
 
 \ 
 pay better." 
 
 " Didn't you ever know this Hervey family, or see any of 
 them ?" 
 
 " Never but once years ago and then Leonard took me 
 up north with him when he went to visit his mother, and I 
 stayed a summer with them, there were only at that time his 
 mother and his sister, who married Hervey the schoolmaster 
 since then I've never seen any of them, but I knew that 
 miniature the minute I set my eyes on it. It's the portrait 
 of Leonard's mother, who was grandmother of this child 
 that you've been looking for. The way I became related 
 was this Leonard's mother and my father, were brother 
 and sister my father went down to New Orleans to seek 
 his fortune married a Connecticut girl that came down 
 there on a visit, and soon both were taken off with the 
 yellow fever as I have just told you and then Leonard 
 who had been with us a good deal, having often been in 
 port while we lived there, concluded after my father died to 
 settle there, as he liked the city pretty well, and so he took 
 me along with him, as there was no one else that wanted 
 me. Before his sister married, he was off and on, but after 
 that, he lived south altogether when he was on shore. He 
 was a well educated man, and had been around the world so 
 much, and got together property pretty rapidly, but always 
 liked the water better than the land."
 
 THE SEARCH. 113 
 
 " And now you want him to believe that his sister and 
 child are dead, so that he will leave his property to you ?" 
 asked Haun. 
 
 *', That's it exactly. You just write that letter, and I will 
 enclose it in one from myself and then he will be convinced, 
 and give up the search." 
 
 Haun got up and brought paper, pens, and ink, near the 
 fire, and seating himself, prepared to write ; but before com- 
 mencing, he remarked, as if the idea had at the moment 
 occurred to him : 
 
 " By the way, Cornell, that bond we might as well pre- 
 pare that in the first place everything in its order, you 
 know." 
 
 " Very well," answered Cornell. 
 
 The pawnbroker then proceeded to draw up a bond, with 
 a penalty, setting forth that Cornell his heirs, etc., acknow- 
 ledged themselves indebted to him in the penal sum of 
 twenty thousand dollars, etc., and stating the condition to be 
 that if he the said Cornell should, as soon as he should enter 
 into the possession, by devise or otherwise, of the property 
 real and personal of one William Leonard, then of New 
 Orleans, pay to the said Haun the sum of ten thousand 
 dollars lawful money of the United States, then the obliga- 
 tion was to be void, otherwise, of force. 
 
 " There," said Haun, as he finished, " that'll do as well 
 as anything, now just put your name to it and we'll finish 
 the letter at once." 
 
 Cornell merely glanced over the instrument carelessly,
 
 114: OID HA TIN, THE PAWNBKOKEK. 
 
 without observing particularly its import, and taking for 
 granted that it was all right, signed his name, and tossing 
 the instrument towards the pawnbroker said : 
 
 " Come, now for the letter." 
 
 " Yes, I'll have it ready in a minute," Haun replied, as 
 he commenced writing, after a few minutes he laid down his 
 pen and said : 
 
 " See if this suits." 
 
 " ' NEW YORK, Dec. 24, 18 
 " ' WILLIAM LEONARD, ESQ., New Orleans. 
 
 " ' DEAR SIR : At the request of Mr. James Cornell, I write, for 
 the purpose of giving you the information that I possess concerning 
 a family, formerly living here, by the name of Hervey. The family 
 consisted of but two persons. The man died of fever about a month 
 since, and I attended him professionally in his last illness. His wife 
 was then sick of consumption, and has since died. I knew no other 
 member of the family, but heard them speak of the death some two 
 years since of an only child, I believe a daughter. They seemed to 
 be in moderate circumstances. Further than this I am not able to 
 
 communicate anything. 
 
 ' ' Very respectfully yours, etc., 
 
 ' ' CARLOS HAUN, 
 
 " ' Physician, New York. ' " 
 
 "That's the thing, exactly," exclaimed Cornell, with 
 exultation, after Haun had concluded reading. " Now I'll 
 manufacture a plausible story about finding you, and tell 
 him all the particulars. That I have discovered their 
 graves, and had a monument erected, etc., that will draw at 
 least five hundred dollars more. You'll see. But it's
 
 THE SEARCH. 115 
 
 getting late, and I must go. See that you keep a close 
 mouth, and we'll, both of us, make a good thing out of it. 
 Good night," said Cornell, as he put the letter in his pocket 
 and buttoned up his coat, preparatory to starting. 
 
 " You stay at the Astor, yet, I suppose," carelessly inquired 
 Haun. 
 
 " Yes ; but never you fear, I shan't run away." 
 
 " I'm not afraid of that, or if you do, I shall know where 
 to find you." 
 
 " Well ! Good night," Cornell said, as he closed the 
 door. 
 
 " Good night," Haun echoed, as he advanced to bolt and 
 bar the door and windows, and then muttered to himself : 
 " A good job that bond '11 hold him, if he ever gets posses- 
 sion of the property no lawyer could have done it better. 
 He acknowledges that he owes me so many thousand dollars, 
 which he agrees to pay when he gets the property ; and he'll 
 have to pay it, too, if the girl don't appear somewhere 
 why, didn't I know it all, when I had the girl here ? " con- 
 tinued Haun, with a scowl, and compressed lips, as he 
 finished his duties, and extinguishing the fire, retired for the 
 night.
 
 116 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE GUARDIAN. 
 
 THE first day spent by Anna, in her new home, was one of 
 real enjoyment, notwithstanding the almost constant remem- 
 brance of her recent loss. Her mother was better or 
 seemed to be they could, together, enjoy the luxuries of a 
 cheerful fire, and well-spread table. 
 
 Their kind-hearted friend did all he could to make them 
 contented, and endeavored also, so to arrange his domestic 
 economy, that they should not be unnecessarily reminded of 
 their affliction, or of their change of abode, except by its 
 increased comfort. 
 
 Bridget, the servant, knew it to be the wish of her mas- 
 ter, that they should be well cared for ; and she, simple 
 soul, thought if she kept them well fed and warm, that there 
 could be no other want. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey laid on the sofa, and Anna sat beside her. 
 They spoke but little, their hearts were too full of speech. 
 Mrs. Hervey suppressed her sorrow as much as possible, for 
 Anna's sake ; but she, with the quick-sightedness of child-
 
 THE GUABDIAN. 117 
 
 hood, saw and sympathized in the grief of one so near *and 
 dear to her. 
 
 Doctor Foster had the very few articles that remained to 
 Mrs. Hervey removed from her late home. Those that were 
 worth preserving, he sent to his own house, and the remain- 
 ing things were disposed of as opportunity offered. 
 
 During the day he had but few moments leisure that he 
 could devote to them. But when he had taken his supper, 
 he seated himself very comfortably by the fire, saying : 
 
 " Gome, Anna, bring your chair here close by me, and 
 let's have a nice, cozy time." 
 
 Anna did as requested, seating herself close by the doc- 
 tor, but he drew her still nearer, saying : 
 
 " There, that's the way come close up to me. You are 
 not afraid of me ?" 
 
 " Oh, no. But I thought I was too heavy to lean upon 
 you," she replied. 
 
 " Too heavy ! you, too heavy 1 you little chicken." 
 
 "Am I not ?" said she, turning to her mother. 
 
 " Well, my daughter, I think you are a pretty good size 
 for a little girl of your age, but not large, certainly. But 
 I presume you will now grow rapidly, surrounded as you 
 are by so many comforts. Doctor Foster," she continued, 
 turning to him, " I should like to talk with you about my 
 own affairs. I feel confident that I have not got long to 
 live. An unnatural strength has been given me during the 
 past summer. But that is deserting me now, and I have 
 much that I must say to you. Will you listen to me, now ?"
 
 118 OLD IIAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 she" added, pleadingly, for, from the doctor's silence, she 
 feared he would put her off. But, after a moment's thought, 
 he said abruptly : 
 
 " If you must talk, say on what you have to say. But if 
 you would only keep quiet it would be better for you. You 
 will soon feel stronger, but I suppose you won't rest easy 
 until you have relieved your mind ; but I tell you once 
 more that you need not trouble yourself about the fature, 
 so far as your own bodily comfort, or that of Anna is con- 
 cerned, for you are welcome to a home here as long as you 
 live." 
 
 " God bless you for your kindness," Mrs. Hervey answered, 
 with much emotion. 
 
 " There there be quiet. You must be quiet. You 
 must not excite yourself so, if you ever expect to get 
 strength," the Doctor interrupted, impatiently. 
 
 " I endeavor to restrain myself, but can not at all times 
 my nerves seem to be unstrung." 
 
 " Very likely very likely, Ma'am." 
 
 After a moment's hesitation, as if to gather strength for 
 the painful recital, in a low and trembling voice, Mrs. Her- 
 vey continued. She was often obliged to stop, from fatigue, 
 and oftener to choke back the tears, which the memory of 
 earlier and happier days sent welling up to her sunken eyes. 
 None knew the burning anguish of those unshed tears. 
 They saw the quivering lip and the pale face, but heard not 
 the cry for stren^h that rose on the wings of the tremulous 
 sigh that escaped from her heart.
 
 THE GUARDIAN. 119 
 
 How often is it so, we gaze upon the sorrowing one, who 
 stands with tearless eyes, to see his life's treasure laid in the 
 grave, and think he mourns not while our warmest sympa- 
 thies are called forth by the tears and lamentations of him, 
 whose grief has utterance. 
 
 " Doctor Foster," continued Mrs. Hervey, " you have 
 taken a great burthen from my mind Anna will have a 
 home and protector when I am gone. God put it into 
 your heart to do by her as you would have your's done 
 
 by. 
 
 " But it is your right to know all of my past history, that 
 can in any way affect her whom you have so kindly promised 
 to care for. Money, or property, as you know I have not ; 
 neither have I expectations of any. I have neither friend 
 nor relative in the wide world, that would take Anna, and 
 provide for her. Feeling the truth of this, I gladly resign 
 her to your protection. Be to her father, mother, and 
 friend, for when I am gone, she will have none other ; and 
 as you deal gently with her, so will your reward be here- 
 after. 
 
 " I was born, and lived till after the birth of Anna, in a 
 small town in Massachusetts. My father was a seafaring 
 man. He died when I was but a little child, so that I re- 
 member almost nothing of him. I had but one brother, and 
 for nine years I have neither seen nor heard from him. He 
 was older than myself ; and he, too, when quite young, left 
 his home, to follow the calling of his father, but he came 
 often to our obscure and quiet home till that last tune,
 
 120 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 When he found our dear mother dead, and I a wife and a 
 mother ; and then he left, and never came again. He did 
 not like my choice. I had married one older and wiser 
 than myself, but he was poor, and but a school-teacher, and 
 that did not satisfy my brother's ambition. He left me in 
 anger, although I had married with my mother's blessing. 
 Since that tune I have never heard from him ; but I am 
 convinced he cannot be living, for his warm and generous 
 heart would not have let him so long entertain unkind 
 feelings towards me and my family. 
 
 " Five years ago we came to this city ; my husband hop- 
 ing to obtain some situation which would yield a better com- 
 pensation for his services. For a time we did well. He 
 obtained a good salary as a book-keeper. But he was often 
 sick, and then all our earnings went rapidly, and finally he 
 lost his situation, and for some time could obtain no employ- 
 ment suited to his physical condition. In this manner we 
 were gradually reduced to poverty. We were obliged to 
 give up our pleasant home in Brooklyn. One by one, our 
 little treasures were sold, till nothing is now left of the 
 things that we most valued books ornaments tokens of 
 affection all, one after another, went to buy us bread. 
 But, thank God, the worst trial of all is over. To see him 
 I loved so well, suffer for the comforts, and even necessaries 
 of life, and yet to be unable to provide them, weighed hea- 
 vily and constantly on my mind. But he is at rest now ; I 
 struggled hard to keep want from our little home, but all 
 that I could do brought but little help. Accomplishments,
 
 THE GUARDIAN. 121 
 
 I had not, and my needle was all the dependence that was 
 left me. Oh, how meagre the fare provided by that, even 
 when I was able to obtain constant employment. For my 
 very necessities were taken advantage of, by those for whom 
 I labored, to reduce my compensation to the very lowest 
 possible rate. If I had been properly compensated, I might 
 have provided for all our wants. But after a night of toil, 
 I have received barely sufficient to pay for the fuel that 
 kept me from freezing, and that grudgingly given. 
 
 " But my last labor is done ; I can work no more ; and 
 with a grateful heart I must continue to depend upon your 
 kindness. God only knows how thankful I am, that I have 
 been spared my greatest dread, the alms-house. I leave 
 Anna with you, and something whispers me that all will be 
 well." 
 
 " Mrs. Hervey," said the doctor, taking her thin hand 
 in his own, " your trust shall not be betrayed. I am alone 
 in the world, and although rough in manners, and possibly 
 too little mindful of the conventionalities of society, still, I 
 trust, I have an honest heart, and one that is not hardened 
 as yet by a long intercourse with a selfish world. And 
 again I say, while I live, Anna shall not want for anything 
 that it is in my power to provide ; and I will in everything 
 do by her as I should wish my own to be done by. But you 
 must not be so down-hearted about yourself. I hope you 
 will live many years yet, to see Anna grow up to woman's 
 stature." 
 
 " Do not deceive yourself, doctor, or fear to speak of that 
 
 6
 
 122 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 which I already know. Death has no terrors for m 
 will be bat the laying off of this weak and worn-out body, 
 and I shall be at rest. Kest ! No one can comprehend how 
 full of meaning to me is that word. Rest from toil, and 
 strife, and struggle ; rest from pain and weariness, from 
 sleepless nights, and days of anguish. Do you wonder at 
 this strong desire, after the long years of continued and 
 unceasing anxiety and misery ?" 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but is not the love of your only child a 
 bond strong enough to bind you to life, now that the storms 
 are past ?" asked the doctor. 
 
 " The storms may be past, but they have marked their 
 path. As to my dear child, life is yet before her, perhaps a 
 happy one. If earthly love were strong enough to combat 
 with death, then he, would not have died. For oh, God for- 
 give me the sin, he was my life, my existence. Why should 
 I desire to live now, that he is gone ?" 
 
 " Would you have kept him here to suffer ?" asked the 
 docter. 
 
 " Not to suffer longer ; no, it is best as it is. For Anna's 
 sake, I will strive against this weakness and endeavor to 
 recover my strength, but the issue must remain with Him." 
 
 " I am glad to hear you say so ; for it is, in my opinion, 
 very wicked, as well as foolish to give way to such despon- 
 dent feelings. Hope for the best result of all our efforts, 
 and that result is more easily obtained. 
 
 " But you have talked too long already. I will prepare 
 you an anodyne, and then you had better go to bed.
 
 THE GUAKDIAN. 123 
 
 Here, this dear child is fast asleep. Anna," called the 
 doctor. 
 
 " What, sir ; I have not been asleep," said Anna, looking 
 up. 
 
 " Not asleep ? why, I thought you had been sleeping 
 this half hour. What have you been thinking about ?" 
 inquired the doctor. 
 
 Anna raised her large eyes to the doctor's face, and met 
 for moment his searching look, and then, with a quivering 
 lip, she whispered : 
 
 " I was listening." 
 
 "Humph," grunted the doctor, while a very unpleasant 
 choking sensation arose in his throat. To get rid of it, 
 he gave Anna a rough hug, and kissed her heartily, say- 
 ing : 
 
 " Better go to bed. There, run and call Biddy, and let 
 her help you and mother to bed." 
 
 Anna did so, and soon mother and daughter were resting 
 quietly on their bed, but not to sleep. With Mrs. Hervey, 
 the excitement of the evening was long in yielding to the 
 influence of the opiate prepared for her. With Anna, the 
 painful relation to which she had listened, aroused her active 
 mind and gave it food for deeper meditation. She, the 
 child of ten years, went back in imagination over the long 
 course of her mother's troubled life, and dwelt with pain- 
 ful intensity upon the scenes of destitution and suffering 
 which she had witnessed, but never before fully understood 
 or realized. The tears stole out of her eyes when she
 
 124 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBEOKEB. 
 
 remembered her father's sufferings, but no sigh or sob 
 escaped her heaving breast, for she was conscious that her 
 mother was still awake, and her affectionate heart forbade 
 her adding one drop to that mother's bitter cup. Then 
 came the thought of that uncle of whom her mother had 
 spoken, and of their former home, and of her playmates, 
 and of Mich, and thus blending the past with the present, 
 she sank to sleep. 
 
 Think yon ten years of experience the hard experience 
 of a heartless world, such as hers had been, too little to have 
 matured her mind thu&, and to have given it sober thoughts. 
 If so, seek the ragged begger in your daily walk one that 
 has been tossed about by the waves of adversity and ques- 
 tion him ; you will find that experience has matured his mind 
 and made him a man in intellect, although still a youth in 
 size. 
 
 After Anna and her mother had retired, the doctor drew 
 his chair nearer the grate and stirred the glowing coals, 
 till its cheerful light and warmth filled the room and then 
 he mused long upon the strange circumstances that had 
 made him the protector of two helpless females. That he a 
 bachelor he who had lived through so many years of 
 selfish loneliness. That he should now, as if providentially, 
 find himself the patriarch of a family. It was singular. 
 The design had been so suddenly conceived by him and so 
 immediately carried out, that he could hardly appreciate tha 
 reality of the change. But he had no desire to return to 
 his lonely condition be felt a deep love springing up in his
 
 THE GUABDIAN. 125 
 
 heart for the gentle child, now sheltered by his roof-^aud 
 was pleased with himself for having done a good act, and did 
 not regret the change. So sure is it that we reap even in 
 this life a thousand fold from the seeds of charity, perhaps 
 carelessly and unthinkingly sown by us. 
 
 As he sat he thought of the many things he would do for 
 the child. She should go to school she should have nice 
 clothes and books and toys in fact she should be happy. 
 
 But then came the thought of her mother, also the subject 
 of his care and a deep shade fell upon his open brow. " Is 
 it possible," he said, to himself, " that her days are so few ; 
 can no skill avail her ?" And then his thoughts reverted to 
 Anna her earnest tearful look, and her whispered words 
 before she left him that night, came to his mind, and sighing, 
 he said, " poor child ! but it cannot be averted. Her 
 mother's mind is wearing out her body, and the child will 
 be left an orphan. I fear it is so." 
 
 Just then Bridget came in to see that all was safe for the 
 night but seeing the doctor so comfortably seated by the 
 fire, she was about to leave, wondering in her own mind 
 what had come over her master, that he should sit down 
 quietly by the fire during a whole evening. But he called 
 her back, saying : 
 
 " Here, Biddy, what do you want ?" 
 
 " Nothin', sir, I was only seein' if the fire was safe, sir." 
 
 " All right, Biddy ; I'll attend to the fire, I am not going 
 iust yet I say, Biddy ?" 
 
 " What will ye have, sir ?"
 
 126 OLD HAUN, THE P A W N B E O K E B . 
 
 " I want you to go out to-morrow morning and buy Anna 
 a new bonnet, and some shoes, and a dress for her, and her 
 mother too. Can you do it ? She needs them. Say 
 Biddy can you do it ?" 
 
 " Sure I can do that and a great deal more, too, for the 
 dear child, bless her swate face." 
 
 " Well, attend to it then, and here's money to pay for 
 them," said the doctor, as he drew out a well worn purse 
 and handed her a note, " and if there's not enough to get 
 all the things come to me for more." 
 
 " Enough 1 I'll be bound I'll fit her out like a quane," said 
 Bridget, with a broad Irish accent, while her face was 
 radiant with smiles. 
 
 " No finery remember but good plain clothes, and stout 
 shoes for Anna." 
 
 " Indade, an' I know what'll plase them," said Bridget, 
 as she left the room. 
 
 Early in the morning Bridget started on her shopping 
 excursion, and she performed her mission well. Possibly 
 prettier patterns might have been selected, or a bonnet of 
 later style purchased but these were in Bridget's mind 
 points of little importance. Durability and warmth were 
 qualities that she most considered. 
 
 Anna received her presents with glistening eyes, and 
 examined them with trembling hands. She first drew on 
 the warm stockings and the shoes, and was delighted with 
 them. She then put on the new bonnet, and its crimson 
 lining cast a glow upon her usually pale cheek. She next
 
 THE GUARDIAN. 127 
 
 wrapped around her the heavy shawl, and when enveloped 
 in its ample folds her joy was too great to be borne alone. 
 
 " See," said she, to her mother, who was reclining on the 
 sofa, and who had been observing her with a satisfied look, 
 " See, mother, how nice and warm this is." 
 
 " Yes, my child I hope you will love Doctor Foster very 
 much for his kindness to us. That is all you can do in 
 return." 
 
 " Mother I will I do. Now, mother, you are crying." 
 
 " No ! Anna, I am not, but I can not restrain the tears of 
 gratitude that will fall in witnessing the kindness of the 
 friend that God has raised up to us." 
 
 " Ye're right, Mrs. Hervey, he's the kindest man that ever 
 lived," interrupted Bridget, with a husky voice ; " he's every 
 one's friend ; it's the Lord's truth." 
 
 " Have you lived with him long ?" inquired Anna. 
 
 " It's now three years come Easter, since I came to live 
 with him, and never a cross word have I once had from his 
 head ; I don't know where I could find another home like 
 this," answered Bridget. 
 
 " You are fortunate in having so good a place," remarked 
 Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 "Ye may well say that same ; but I mustn't stand here 
 chattering in this way, or ye'll not have any dinner this day ; 
 but, Anna, won't it do the docthor'-s heart good, when he sees 
 ye wid the new clothes on ;" and so saying Bridget started 
 away to attend to her own duties, and left them to them- 
 selves.
 
 128 OLD HAUK, THE PAWNBKOKEK. 
 
 Anna endeavored by gentle attentions and caresses, and 
 by her childish conversation to dissipate the gloom from the 
 face of her mother, and thus time passed till the doctor 
 returned to his meal. He fondled Anna for a little time ; 
 was delighted with the additions to and change in her appa- 
 rel, talked with her mother, advised with her, gave directions 
 to Bridget, and was off upon his ceaseless round of duties. 
 
 Day succeeded day without being marked by any parti- 
 cular or unusual event. Anna often thought of Mich, and 
 wished she could see him. But she had been in her new 
 abode some time before going into the streets. Now that 
 she was away from the accustomed walks she dared not go 
 alone, and more than this she was unwilling to leave her 
 mother, when she might sometimes have gone with Bridget. 
 Her patience was rewarded, for on Christmas eve, after the 
 doctor had taken his supper, he said : 
 
 " Anna, put on your things and go with me and take a 
 walk. It will do you good." 
 
 Anna hesitated and looked at her mother, for she did not 
 like to leave her alone, but the doctor saw the glance, and 
 understood its meaning and said : 
 
 " Biddy can sit by your mother while you are gone. 
 W e'll not be out long. Come, be quick, on with the new 
 bonnet and shawl." 
 
 Anna hastened to obey him, and soon stood in readiness 
 to go, saying : 
 
 " I am ready, sir." 
 
 " All nice and warm ? Eh !" said the doctor.
 
 THE GUABDIAN. 129 
 
 " Yes, sir. Biddy, take good care of mother when I am 
 gone. Good bye," and Anna followed the doctor out of the 
 room. 
 
 They proceeded down Broadway, the air was piercing 
 cold ; but Anna drew her thick shawl about her and did not 
 feel it. Her young blood coursed rapidly in her veins as she 
 tried to keep pace with the steps of Doctor Foster. 
 
 A merry Christmas Eve it was to many a light heart. 
 The streets and shops shone brilliantly, and hurrying feet 
 went rapidly by. 
 
 The doctor seemed lost in thought. He had hardly 
 spoken a word until they reached Broadway, and had gone 
 some distance, and then he seemed to become conscious of 
 Anna's presence ; he walked more slowly, to allow her an 
 opportunity of admiring some of the windows filled with 
 dazzling varieties. They came to one more showy than 
 the others, when the doctor said : 
 
 " Let us stop a minute to see what we can find here." 
 
 " Oh see, is'nt it beautiful 1" exclaimed Anna. 
 
 " Do you think so ? perhaps you would like to go in and 
 get something ?" replied the doctor. 
 
 " Oh, no, you have bought so many nice things for me 
 already, I'd rather not." 
 
 " Well then, we'll cross over here, and perhaps we may 
 see something there that we can take home with us," said 
 the doctor, as they crossed the street and entered a confer 
 tionery. 
 
 " Now Anna, what shall we buy ?'*
 
 130 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Oh, sir, nothing for me." 
 
 "Nothing! why child, don't you like candy?" 
 
 " Yes sir, I used to, but I hav'nt had any for a long time." 
 
 " Well, then, you shall have some now." 
 
 " Please sir," she whispered timidly. 
 
 " What is it, child ? don't be afraid to tell me what you 
 want. Perhaps you had rather have a doll." 
 
 " No, sir, not that ; but if, instead of candy, you would 
 please buy something for mother," said Anna, coloring at her 
 own boldness. 
 
 "Bless your little heart. She shall have something 
 and you, too. What shall we get her. Here are some 
 nice grapes, just the thing for her. What do you say ?" 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " Now, we'll just buy one of those beautiful dolls, for 
 you to take along with you, and then we'll leave." Hav- 
 ing selected one, and had it put up, the doctor took Anna 
 by the hand, and they started out again. Soon they came 
 to a book-store, 
 
 " Can you read, Anna ?" he inquired. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; my mother has taught me to read and 
 spell." 
 
 " Eight ! then, you must have a book, and I shall want 
 you to read it to me." 
 
 " I should like to, but I think you are buying me too 
 many things." 
 
 " Indeed ! You are afraid I shall spend all my money, 
 eh? Is that it?"
 
 THE GUARDIAN. 
 
 " Oh, no ; I suppose you have a great deal of money ; 
 but you are very good to give me and mother all of 
 these." 
 
 " Well, child, you belong to me now, and while I live you 
 shall share with me. Now, I think, a warm fire would feel 
 comfortable after our long walk in the cold ; so, we'll go 
 towards home." So saying the doctor hurried on abstract- 
 edly, and in silence, till he abruptly inquired : 
 
 "Anna, who was that ragged boy that I saw with you 
 the morning I called ?" 
 
 " That, sir ! Oh, that was Mich Lynch." 
 
 " Mich Lynch 1 who is he ?" 
 
 " He lived near to us ; and his mother is poor. He used 
 to help me sometimes, and went with me one day when I 
 sold matches, and when I sold mamma's locket, too." 
 
 " Locket 1 who did you sell the locket to ?" 
 
 " I don't know what his name is, but he keeps a shop up 
 in this part of the city ; I think they call it Chatham street ; 
 Mich would know." 
 
 " Where does Mich live then ?" 
 
 " I could find it from our old home, but I don't know the 
 way from here." 
 
 " Well, I must go with you some day to find him. He 
 has done so much for you ; but I should like to hear some- 
 thing more of him you can tell me as we are going along 
 home." 
 
 Anna very gladly commenced with the first tune she had 
 eeen Mich, and told everything concerning him that sho
 
 132 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBKOKEK. 
 
 knew. She told of his kindness to her, of his own poverty, 
 and of his mother, and her sick baby, in fact, every little 
 incident of their short intimacy ; and by the time they had 
 reached home, the doctor had conceived quite an interest in 
 Anna's humble friend, and remarked as they entered their 
 house : 
 
 " Perhaps we'll see him again some day." 
 
 Anna rushed to her mother, and handed her the grapes 
 she had brought, without waiting to remove her shawl and 
 bonnet, saying, as she did so : 
 
 " Here's something nice for you only taste them." 
 
 " Are they for me ?" Mrs. Hervey inquired. 
 
 " Yes, all for you every one, that is if the doctor doesn't 
 want any." 
 
 " No, the doctor don't want any ; you and I, you know, 
 have got something better," said he, holding up the candies. 
 
 " Oh yes ; and see, mother, just see this beautiful doll, 
 and this book, and candies." 
 
 " I hope Doctor Foster will not indulge my little girl too 
 much," remarked Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 " Oh, it is Christmas, you know, and that comes but once 
 a year," said the doctor, chuckling. 
 
 It would have been difficult to determine which was 
 happiest, the child with her gifts, or he in witnessing her 
 pleasure. 
 
 Would that the ingenuousness and trusting love of child- 
 hood might be retained through life. But with years comes 
 the knowledge of unworthiness, often in those we most
 
 THE GUARDIAN. 133 
 
 esteem and then the warm affections which would have 
 twined around the objects of our lore are chilled, and we 
 realize the bitter thought that there is nothing lasting but 
 eternity !
 
 134: OLD HA.TJN, THE PA.WNBKOK.EB. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 
 
 AFTER Cornell had dispatched to New Orleans the letters 
 written by Haun and himself, he gave himself up to dissipa- 
 tion and pleasure. He made no farther attempt, or even 
 demonstration of continuing his search. His conscience 
 would sometimes reproach him for what he had done, but he 
 would quickly stifle its voice, quieting himself with the 
 thought that those injured, even if living, would never know 
 their wrongs. 
 
 He waited impatiently for an answer, not doubting that 
 his immediate return would be urged, when Leonard should 
 learn that he had no other relative on whom, in his feeble 
 health he could lean as a friend. 
 
 A visit was occasionally made to the pawnbroker, and 
 what respect was formerly entertained by him for that 
 worthy and excellent individual, was rapidly dissipating, as 
 he, from .time to time, became more thoroughly acquainted 
 with the peculiarities of disposition of his newly found 
 friend.
 
 COENELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 135 
 
 Cornell expected to leave for the South. He had made 
 up his mind to go, and held himself in readiness. Still no 
 letter came. He was becoming discontented, nervous, and 
 irritable found less enjoyment hi the daily amusements in 
 which he had formerly engaged with so much zeal. The 
 winter was passing, he wanted to see New Orleans once 
 more in fact he was homesick. The post office was visited 
 daily, and often many times a day, with the vain hope that 
 a letter for him might have been overlooked or misplaced. 
 It was now the last of January, and he had everything in 
 readiness to start. He went once more, and fortune favored 
 him the letter came. He grasped it eagerly glanced at 
 the post mark and at the superscription the latter was 
 strange to him. He tore it open. The letter was from 
 Leonard, but not written with his own hand. Leonard was 
 dangerously sick the immediate presence of Cornell was 
 desired a pang shot through his heart, but he nerved him- 
 self, and returned to his hotel to learn the exact tune of the 
 departure of the next public conveyance south. He found 
 that he should have a little spare time, and thodght he had 
 better go and have an interview with the pawnbroker before 
 his final departure. 
 
 It was with a sad face and heavy heart that he walked 
 slowly along towards the pawnbroker's shop. He regretted 
 the step he had taken, and thought how much better it 
 would have been, had he waited for the free gift of his 
 friend, honestly and fearlessly received, than the thousands 
 that he might obtain by fraud the thousands that he could
 
 136 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 never enjoy in peace, so long as his secret was shared by 
 another. 
 
 Cornell had not naturally a bad heart. He was impulsive 
 and quick to resolve, without proper reflection, and easily 
 influenced by others; but he was not hardened in vice, or 
 utterly insensible to the appeals of a better nature. Enter- 
 ing, he said, soberly, and with less of brusquerie in his man- 
 ner than usual: 
 
 " Haun, I'm off for the south." 
 
 " You ! Have you heard from him ?" 
 
 " No, not from him, but from one who has written for 
 him." 
 
 " Some one written for him ? You don't mean a lawyer 
 do you ? You don't suppose he has any suspicion ?" 
 
 "No, the letter was from his housekeeper. Leonard is 
 dangerously sick and wants me to hasten back." 
 
 "Oh! oh! is that all. Why did'nt you speak out at 
 once," said Haun, drawing a long breath. "You almost 
 scared me. I thought something had broke loose, and that 
 the ten thousand dollars was in danger; but it's right the 
 other way, and I'll get it sooner than I thought for. Ain't 
 you a lucky dog ? If the old man dies you've nothing to do 
 but just go down, take possession (because you're sure to 
 get it if these others don't turn up), pay me my share, and 
 live like a prince. But had he received the letters ?" 
 
 " She does not mention, but I presume he had, for nothing 
 is said of his sister, and she wrote at his dictation." 
 
 " Well, then, you'll have no trouble. He must have given
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YOKE. 137 
 
 up all hope of seeing her, and you may thank me for half 
 of your luck." 
 
 " Yes, thank you for breaking the poor old man's heart, 
 for I have not a doubt your letter has done it. He has so 
 long indulged the hope of seeing his sister, that the sudden 
 disappointment has been too much for him to bear. What 
 devils we are to deceive him so. I wish I had not done it," 
 said Cornell, sighing. 
 
 " How tender-hearted you have become. Hurry on, and 
 you may not be too late even now, to save him. Tell him 
 that you were only lying to him in order that you might get 
 his money. I have no doubt he would forgive you at once, 
 It would be perfectly natural that he should men are so 
 fond of being cheated and deceived. Or, if he shouldn't 
 forgive you, and should insist on being crusty on account of 
 your slight indiscretion, and should will his estate away to 
 some hospital, or charity school, why, you'll only have to go 
 to work and you know that's nothing you love to work. 
 Well, I hope you will reap the usual reward of repentance. 
 Go, before it is too late," said Haun sarcastically. 
 
 " Association with you is not likely to induce one to 
 repent, except of the company he has kept. You may sneer, 
 but I am not afraid to say I only wish the letters had never 
 been written. But it is too late; and besides, his sister may 
 be dead, for aught we know, and what should I benefit any 
 one then by telling him. I should only lose all chance my- 
 self of getting anything, for I know Leonard too well to 
 expect that he'd ever forgive such treatment. There's no
 
 138 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 other way. So I'll just let it go as it is, and wait to see 
 what comes next," said Cornell, talking partly to himself, 
 and yet, so that he could oe heard, without heeding Harm's 
 presence. 
 
 " Now you begin to talk like a sensible man," interrupted 
 Haun. 
 
 " Well, well, there's no use in crying for spilt milk. So, 
 old fellow, good-bye. I intend to keep my part of the 
 bargain, and mind that you keep yours, and a close 
 mouth, and don't trouble yourself too much about my 
 matters." 
 
 " It will be all right if you do that ; but if not, you 
 might, perhaps, hear from me again." 
 
 Cornell did not stop to answer, but left the shop and 
 retraced his steps to his hotel, where he completed his 
 necessary arrangements, and at seven that evening left for 
 the South. 
 
 Night and day he travelled, hurried on by some vague 
 and indefinable feeling. Often the desire to undo the 
 wrong he had committed, was so strong within him, that had 
 he been in the presence of Leonard, all would have been 
 confessed. He felt ill at ease, and shunned the society of 
 his fellow-travellers. He had only looked at the goal, with- 
 out measuring the long road of guilt that he was to journey 
 over to reach it. But now that he had taken the first step, 
 he felt guilty condemned. His own conscience stood like 
 a monitor, silently pointing to the base act that he had com- 
 mitted in betraying his friend. Day and night he felt its
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YOKE. 139 
 
 upbraidings, and, therefore, hurried 011, more and more 
 resolved to make a full confession of his duplicity, regardless 
 of consequences. 
 
 He had come to this determination before his interview 
 with Haun, but the jeers of the latter had caused him to 
 reconsider his good resolution, and finally to persevere 
 determinedly in the accomplishment of the plot which he 
 had laid ; but when removed from the evil influences thus 
 exerted over him, his better genius prevailed, and he 
 relented. 
 
 Had he been permitted to see his friend alive, and to 
 have been met, as of old, with kindness, Cornell would cer- 
 tainly have swerved from his wicked purpose. He could 
 not have persisted had he heard the sick man mourn for his 
 only sister, and regret his own sinful folly in letting her live 
 separate from him, her brother perhaps in misery while 
 he had an abundance. 
 
 It was undeniable that the information contained in those 
 letters had been the blow that had struck down the old man 
 and brought him to the grave. He was the last of his name 
 none remained. He had hoped to clasp his sister once 
 more in his arms, and to seek her forgiveness for his past 
 harshness and unbrotherly behavior, but she was not there ; 
 she had already gone before him, and died without forgiving 
 him. Cornell, too, whom he had taken and cherished as his 
 own child, clothed, fed, sheltered, and loved, he too, was 
 away, and there was not one of his kindred to close the eyes 
 of the dying man.
 
 140 OLD H A U N , THE PAWNBBOKEK. 
 
 This, and much beside, that occurred during the last 
 hours of his relative, was communicated to Cornell by the 
 faithful and mourning housekeeper. He listened eagerly to 
 every little incident of his last illness, and bitterly regretted 
 the act which had made him the sole heir of his cousin; for, 
 by the terms of the will made several years previously, all 
 the property of the deceased, both real and personal, devised 
 to Cornell ; but, in case of his sister being living, the whole 
 of the same was to go to her, or to her issue, excepting a 
 legacy of twenty thousand dollars to Cornell. 
 
 He repented, and would even then, when he saw the pro- 
 perty for which he had sinned, almost in his possession, have 
 returned it to the lawful claimant, if she had appeared, but 
 she did not, and so time healed his wounds, and he became 
 accustomed to the luxuries which wealth can command, and 
 to the respect which it exacts from the cringing multitude, 
 and then his good intentions died. He hardened his heart 
 and shut up the secret in his own breast, the secret that 
 had, even as he gazed upon the pale face and closed eyes 
 of his benefactor, trembled on his lips. But it was too 
 late. 
 
 Cornell claimed as sole heir under the will, and after a 
 short delay and the necessary proof, which was carelessly 
 gone through with, and more as a mere matter of form than 
 otherwise, his claim was recognized and established ; in 
 fact, there was no one to dispute or deny it, for the 
 deceased's own statements were proven for the purpose of 
 establishing the fact, that there was no other person living
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YOEK. 141 
 
 competent to claim as heir, and so the will was admitted to 
 probate, and Cornell, the dependant Cornell, became lord 
 over thousands. 
 
 With all proper show of respect and attention, the body 
 was laid in its last resting-place. Cornell exhibited no 
 unusual haste or desire to appropriate the coveted property 
 to himself, but everything was done decently and in order, 
 and so he took possession quietly and unostentatiously. As 
 time passed on, his old acquaintances sought him out, and 
 he lavished money freely ; he was liberal and generous 
 without counting cost or looking to the end. He made also 
 many new friends, who basked in the sunshine of his favors, 
 and he was by all considered a fortunate and a happy 
 man. 
 
 And now that he had come into full possession of the 
 estate, success had given him confidence, and he began to 
 weigh in his mind the possibility of releasing himself from 
 his obligation to Haun the ten thousand dollars promised 
 as his share in the venture. True he had received ten times 
 that amount, but it was mostly in real estate and in negroes, 
 all valuable, but not so immediately productive, and ten 
 thousand dollars was a large sum for him to pay without 
 inconvenience. He debated in Ms own mind the policy of 
 refusing payment to Haun, and resolved to seek legal advice 
 as to the validity of the bond he had executed. Weighing 
 the matter in his mind, he determined, however, rather than 
 come to an open rupture with his partner, he would compro- 
 mise but finally concluded that he could not spare any
 
 142 OLD H A TJ N , THE PAWNBEOKEB. 
 
 money, and that he would withhold the consideration of the 
 bond, and if possible resist its collection. If Cornell had 
 received twice the amount that he really did, he undoubtedly 
 would have felt the same. This is human nature. He could 
 not bear the idea of diminishing his estate by parting with 
 such a sum, aside from the great inconvenience that it 
 would occasion him. Therefore, from hesitating and doubt- 
 ing, he finally resolved not to pay Haun the ten thousand 
 dollars, notwithstanding the fact that it had been through 
 his assistance that the plot had been carried into successful 
 operation, and he did not believe that Haun would ever be 
 able to discover the legal heirs, in which case he would have 
 nothing to fear. He himself had searched in vain, and he 
 did not believe another could be more successful. And so, 
 from thinking of the matter, and wishing that it might be 
 so, Cornell finally satisfied himself that it was so, and that 
 the legal heir was dead, and so determined to retain all that 
 had come into his possession, and to part with none of it 
 except to gratify his own sensual wants, and to minister to 
 his own pleasures. 
 
 He could not, however, banish from his mind an inde- 
 finable dread he was not at ease. Although he had 
 resolved and marked out his course of action, still he vacil- 
 lated, knowing that the pawnbroker was a man of iron nerve, 
 and one not lightly turned from his object. But he had 
 determined one thing, and that was not to pay the money ; 
 but another thing he had not yet settled, and that was how 
 to avoid the payment. Thus time passed, when after the
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 143 
 
 lapse of a few months from the day of his taking possession, 
 he received from New York a letter opening it he read as 
 follows : 
 
 " NEW YORK, March IZth, 18 
 
 " M"x DKAR SIR : I cannot delay writing, for the purpose of offer- 
 ing my sympathy in your terrible affliction. To have lost so kind a 
 friend must deeply affect you. But while expressing my grief at your 
 loss, you will not deny me the opportunity of referring to that little 
 business transaction which you will recollect ; I am much in want of 
 the funds at present and am very positive that I shall receive a remit- 
 tance within sixty days from this date. I presume you will be pleased 
 to learn that your friends here, whom you feared might be dead, are 
 still li ving, notwithstanding the report of their death which was erro- 
 neously circulated. 
 
 " Waiting for an answer I am your constant friend 
 
 "CARLOS HAUN." 
 
 Cornell was alone in his room when he opened the letter, 
 he had noticed the post mark when taking it from the ser- 
 vant, and had waited impatiently for him to leave, before 
 opening it. After reading the first lines of mocking con- 
 dolence, he threw it violently from him, he then as quickly 
 caught it up and perused it to the end, and then tore it 
 into fragments and holding the pieces into the light of a 
 taper saw them quickly consumed. He understood perfectly 
 the allusion contained in the last lines and it was that, which 
 troubled him. He thought to himself, " what if he has dis- 
 covered them since my departure." Then he began to con- 
 sider discretion the better part of valor, and thought per- 
 haps he had better make an attempt to compromise the
 
 144 OLD H A TJ N , THE PAWNBKOKEK. 
 
 matter with Haun rather than to have an open rupture, 
 because he could not learn and did not know how far he 
 was in Haun's power. And then again, it occurred to him 
 that what would kill one would kill the other. That what- 
 ever would prevent his retaining the property, would also 
 prevent Haun obtaining any part of it. But he was doubt- 
 ful as yet, how far Haun would sacrifice interest to the 
 gratification of revenge, and so revolving the matter in his 
 mind, he came to the conclusion that it -would do no harm at 
 any rate, and might be of some advantage, to answer Haun's 
 letter acting upon this determination, he wrote as follows : 
 
 " NEW ORLEANS, April 10th, 18 
 " CARLOS HAITN, New York. 
 
 " DEAR SIR : I have just received your letter and duly con- 
 sidered its contents. As to the expression of your sympathy for me, 
 I wish it were half as sincere as my grief at the loss of my friend ; I 
 am ready to perform my agreement so far as I find myself able : I can- 
 not advance you the amount at first spoken of, but still I will do what 
 is right, so that you shall be well paid for your trouble, and on receipt 
 from you of the bond which I gave you, I will enclose one thousand 
 dollars. If this proposition is satisfactory to you, please let me know 
 at once. 
 
 "Yours, etc., 
 
 "JAMES CORNELL." 
 
 Having dispatched his letter, the writer banished the sub- 
 ject from his thoughts as an unpleasant matter that he did 
 not wish to entertain. 
 
 He surrounded himself with all the luxuries that wealth
 
 CORNEL L LEAVES N E W Y O E K . 145 
 
 could command, as if attempting to condense iuto each day 
 of his life the utmost possible enjoyment. Every sense was 
 gratified till sated with excess. Excitement was what he 
 craved; and in it he succeeded, for a time, in drowning 
 remorse for the past, and in banishing all fear for the future. 
 
 And now, where was Mich all of this time ? Why, not- 
 withstanding many blunders and mistakes, he had made 
 himself so useful in his new vocation, that doctor Marsh 
 would not on any account have parted with him. Active, 
 honest, and punctual in the discharge of his duties, and 
 withal anxious to please, he had made himself indispensable 
 to his employer. 
 
 As great a change, too, had been wrought in his personal 
 appearance. One would scarcely have been able to recog- 
 nize in the smart looking, well-dressed boy who, on the first 
 of April drove up the horse of the popular physician, the 
 Mich who has already made his appearance before the reader. 
 But it certainly was he a little personal attention with an 
 improvement in his apparel had worked the change. He 
 was a proud and happy boy in being able to assist his mother, 
 besides providing for his own limited wants. Nothing was 
 bought unnecessarily, except now and then a book ; but his 
 own earnings had been added to the little his mother had 
 been able to obtain, and they secured a comfortable tene- 
 ment and furnished it with some few articles of utility 
 The vision of the alms-house or starvation was not forever 
 haunting her, and Mrs. Lynch's sad face wore a more cheer- 
 ful look.
 
 146 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 Mich had not by any means forgotten his former friend 
 Anna. He often wondered what could have become of her 
 where she could have disappeared so suddenly. As each day's 
 engagements brought to him the same routine of employ- 
 ment, he was always on the watch for her, and whenever 
 groups of children passed him he would gaze wistfully into 
 their faces, and wonder where Anna could have gone. He 
 had become attached to her with a boyish fondness, for she 
 had been the only one with whom he had been on terms of 
 intimacy, and he, being a stranger among strangers, could 
 not but let his thoughts revert to her. 
 
 The expectation of ever seeing her again was gradually 
 growing fainter, when, on a certain day, as he was putting 
 in order his employer's office, a man entered and inquired for 
 doctor Marsh. Mich turned quickly when he heard the voice, 
 for its tone was familiar to him ; but the person was a stran- 
 ger to him. He did not immediately answer, but tried to 
 recall the time and place where he had once seen the visitor, 
 and unconsciously stood staring him in the face He was 
 aroused from his reverie by a repetition of the question: 
 
 " Say, boy, where is doctor Marsh ?" 
 
 " He'll be in directly, sir." 
 
 "Well, why couldn't you answer me at first, instead of 
 stopping to stare at me ?" 
 
 " I beg you'll excuse the rudeness ; but I thought your 
 face was known to me." 
 
 " Humph! Very likely." Just then Doctor Marsh entered, 
 and saluting his visitor, extended his hand, saying :
 
 CORNELL LEAVES HEW YORK. 147 
 
 " Good morning, Doctor Foster quite a stranger take a 
 seat. Mich, stir the fire rather cool for a spring day. 
 What's the news with you, doctor ?" 
 
 "Nothing of importance; but I want to get you to go 
 with me and see a patient of mine. Will you go ?" 
 
 " Certainly, certainly, glad to oblige you." 
 
 " Well, will you go now ? Don't expect you can do the 
 man any good ; but it will satisfy the friends to have you see 
 him." 
 
 "Yes, I can go now as well as any time. Mich, go and 
 bring around the carriage." 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Mich, as he darted off. 
 
 " Humph ! carriage ! Your patients pay better than 
 mine do if you can afford to keep your carriage and servant," 
 8aid Doctor Foster. 
 
 " I won't practise for those who won't pay. My time is 
 my capital, and I make it bring me good interest." 
 
 " Humph," grunted Doctor Foster, as he walked uneasily 
 to and fro through the room. This was all the notice he 
 took of this last remark. Soon Doctor Marsh asked him the 
 particulars of the case upon which his opinion was desired, 
 which he gave with precision; and while he was talking upon 
 the subject Mich entered, saying: 
 
 " Ready, sir," and then left the room, and the physicians 
 followed. When they were seated in the carriage, Mich 
 handed the reins to Doctor Marsh and asked: 
 
 " Shall I go ?" 
 
 " Yes, up quick, Mich."
 
 148 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 And up he jumped as agile as a young squirrel, and they 
 started on. They soon came to a part of the city which 
 was more particularly Doctor Foster's field of practice. The 
 poor the humble the laboring men were the subjects of 
 his care. Sometimes they were able to pay, but oftener not. 
 This made no difference to him. His time and skill were 
 freely given. He had, fortunately, secured sufficient to ena- 
 ble him to live independently of his practice; but he clung 
 to it as a means of doing good. After riding along for some 
 tune in silence, Doctor Marsh said: 
 
 " Why will you squander your talents upon the herd that 
 swarm here? Why, Foster, your skill and ability would 
 command a fortune among respectable people." 
 
 " Respectable people ! I presume our ideas of respecta- 
 bility differ much. I consider the man respectable who, by 
 honest toil earns his own bread, though he be clad in sack- 
 cloth, and tread with weary feet the long way to his humble 
 home. You call him respectable who dresses in fine linen 
 and fares sumptuously every day. Thank God I do not 
 forget that I was once poor myself." 
 
 " Your remarks are very caustic. You seem to have more 
 feeling on the subject than I had supposed." 
 
 " Yes, I am free to acknowledge that my feeling and sym- 
 pathies are with the honest toiling poor." 
 
 " Well 1 Foster, I admit my notions would not be popular, 
 but I must confess that I do not like contact with this sort 
 of people. They seem to smell of garlic, particularly all 
 foreigners, and I dou ? t fancy it."
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 149 
 
 " Humph ! that may do for yon, but jiot for me ; it is 
 fortunate that we are not all so delicately constituted, or 
 there are many people who would suffer. Marsh, you are 
 fond of luxuries, and would be unhappy without them : to me 
 they are of no importance. I take the world as it was 
 made before it was spoiled by art." 
 
 By this tune they had reached their destination. They 
 stopped and entered, leaving Mich seated in the carriage. 
 While they were absent his brain was busy. He had listen- 
 ed to the conversation of the gentlemen as they rode along, 
 and it had aroused his curiosity. Ho felt more and more 
 confident that he had before met or seen Doctor Foster, but 
 where or when he could not determine. He had seen many 
 strangers since he had been in the employ of Dr. Marsh that 
 he could not discriminate. Yet it was not as some stranger 
 whom he had casually seen, but there was something con- 
 nected with the face or voice of Doctor Foster, that created 
 in the mind of Mich an indefinable desire to satisfy himself 
 of the time and place, but the more he tried, the less able 
 was he to resolve the matter, and so gave it up for the pres- 
 ent. 
 
 After being absent for a short time the physicians re-ap- 
 peared. Dr. Marsh insisted upon his companion riding 
 along with him as far his office, which Doctor Foster at first 
 declined, but finally consented in his characteristic manner : 
 
 " Ride 1 Well, I will to please you, but I'd rather walk." 
 
 Doctor Marsh turned his horse's head homeward, and pro-
 
 150 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 ceeding by a different route than that by which they had 
 come : they entered the street in which Anna Hervey had 
 so long lived. Mich no sooner saw the familiar-looking 
 places than every circumstance of his acquaintance with 
 Anna came rushing upon his memory, and on the tide was 
 borne the scene in the stairway when he had last seen her, 
 and in an instant, he recognized Dr. Foster. It occurred to 
 him at once when and where he had met him. 
 
 As they drove past the darkened and smoky tenement, 
 Mich gazed at it, and up at the attic window, and then 
 turned to gaze after they had passed, till Doctor Foster 
 noticing his earnest look, and not himself observing their 
 locality remarked 
 
 " What do you see, boy ?" 
 
 " Nothin' at all, sir, only the ould house." 
 
 " Whose old house ?" inquired the doctor. 
 
 " Only a frind, sir, that I used to know." 
 
 ' ' Then you recollect your friends, do you ?" 
 
 " Fa'th, sir, it's not a poor boy like meself that's likely to 
 have so many frinds he can't remember them all." 
 
 " Humph ! some truth in that I've no doubt, but what's 
 your name ?" 
 
 "Me name's Mich Lynch, sir." 
 
 " Eh ? Mich Lynch, and what was the name of the friend 
 you used to know there," inquired Doctor Foster with some 
 eagerness. 
 
 " Her name was Anna Hervey."
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 151 
 
 " Remarkable," ejaculated the Doctor. 
 
 " Yis, ye're honor, she was that same, and a tinder-hearted 
 creature beside." 
 
 " I say its remarkable that I should have happened to 
 come across Mich Lynch, Anna's friend. I tell you, boy, she'll 
 be glad to hear of you." 
 
 " Indade, sir, is it possible that ye know where she is ?" 
 
 " I know where she was not an hour ago." 
 
 " An' ye won't be afther denyin' me the favor I'm askin' 
 of ye to tell me where she is." 
 
 " She's at home of course, nursing her sick mother." 
 
 " And that's the very thing I'd be glad to know, where is 
 her home ?" 
 
 " Didn't I tell you she lives with me, and if Doctor 
 Marsh will spare you for a few minutes, you shall go with 
 me and see her awhile," said Doctor Foster, as he alighted 
 at the door of his own office. 
 
 The consent was readily given, and the two started for 
 the residence of Dr. Foster. Mich could hardly restrain 
 himself, or wait for the slow pace of the doctor, or answer 
 his interrogatories as they moved along. 
 
 " So you're the boy that used to help my little girl occa- 
 sionally. You're the one that sold matches with her ? eh ! 
 Great business that, for her to go peddling matches," 
 grunted the doctor. 
 
 " Did ye say she was livin' wid ye ?" asked Mich. 
 
 " Live with me 1 more like I live with her. I couldn't get 
 along without her."
 
 152 OLD II A UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Och ! thin, God bless ye. I was afraid she'd beeu 
 sufferin' wid hunger since she left the ould house," Mich 
 answered gratefully. The knowledge that Anna had beeu 
 well provided for, sent a thrill of pleasure through his heart. 
 
 The residence of the doctor was soon reached. It was a 
 strongly-built house, of the olden style, and had stood 
 through the storms and sunshine of many years. Its ex- 
 terior was rather gloomy, from the substantial manner in 
 which it had been constructed, and the entire absence of 
 those architectural adornments, which give an airy look to 
 the more modern structures. A flight of stone steps led 
 up to the door, which was sunk deeply into the building, 
 while over it a diamond-shaped window admitted air and 
 light into the hall. 
 
 Mich waited impatiently for the doctor to unlock the door 
 and enter. They traversed a long and narrow hall, but had 
 proceeded but a few steps, when a door, at the further end, 
 was thrown open by Anna, who exclaimed, on meeting the 
 doctor : 
 
 " Why! is it you ? What have you come home for now ?" 
 
 " To see my little girl brought some one along, too. 
 Guess who," answered the doctor. 
 
 Anna stepped forward to meet them, but the light in the 
 hall was so obscure that she could not get a fair view of 
 Mich, who modestly shrunk somewhat behind the doctor, his 
 heart beating with delight at seeing her again, while he at 
 the same time felt an unpleasant sensation in his throat. 
 When he, however, emerged into the bright light of the sit-
 
 COENELL LEAVES NEW YOI4K. 153 
 
 ting room, Anna gave one searching earnest look into his 
 face, and then ran toward him and grasped his hand, ex- 
 claiming : 
 
 " Mich Lynch ! Oh, where did you find him ? How glad 
 I am to see you ! Why did'nt you come to see me before ? 
 You've got new clothes too, hav'nt you ?" 
 
 Poor Mich was completely overcome by Anna's demon- 
 stration of friendship and cordiality. He could not speak 
 for some time, and then he said : 
 
 " Ye hav'nt forgotten me, have ye ? I was afraid ye 
 had." 
 
 " Forget you ! why I tried to find you, but why did'nt 
 you come to see me sooner ?" 
 
 " An' how was I to know that ye'd found sich a nice home 
 as this," said Mich, glancing around the room. 
 
 The doctor and Mrs. Hervey had been enjoying them- 
 selves by silently witnessing the meeting between the children, 
 but now Doctor Foster spoke : 
 
 " I guess you'll get along here without me ; can't lose 
 any more tune. Come and see us as often as you please, 
 Mich." 
 
 Mich answered, " thank ye, sir," and turned to go with 
 the doctor, although looking very wistfully at Anna and her 
 mother. 
 
 " Mich, you need'nt go ; you have been here but a few 
 minutes. But I think your friend might offer you a seat," 
 the doctor remarked as he left. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey called Mich to her and talked with him 
 T*
 
 154 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 asked him of his mother, and of their fortunes since she had 
 last seen him. Mich answered her briefly and respectfully, 
 although his delight at meeting Anna was turned into sad- 
 ness on observing the very great change that had taken 
 place in the appearance of her mother since last he had seen 
 her. He could not fail to observe the sunken eyes, shadow- 
 like form, and the emaciated hand that rested upon his arm. 
 To him the change was shocking. He turned around to 
 look at Anna and wonder how she could smile and appear so 
 contented, but Anna saw not her mother as Mich did. The 
 gradual wasting away had been to her almost imperceptible ; 
 nursing and waiting upon her night and day she could not 
 mark the gradual change. She did not observe that day by 
 day her mother's strength failed and her step became less 
 firm. She hoped that when the spring came and the weather 
 would permit her walking out that then she would be better. 
 No one told her how fallacious was the hope she was cher- 
 ishing, and so she dreamed. Her mother would sigh and 
 turn away when Anna endeavored to cheer her with bright 
 prospects of the future, for she felt that now her child was 
 provided with a home, it would be cruel to imbitter her 
 present happiness by recurring to that event, which, when- 
 ever it should happen, be it sooner or later, would so mar 
 her life's enjoyment. For herself she was ready and willing, 
 whenever death should call her to that other home, and she 
 strove by all her teaching and conversation to fill her daugh- 
 ter's mind with such thoughts and principles, as would sus- 
 tain her in the time of her affliction, and enable her coufi-
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 155 
 
 dingly to place her full reliance upon Him who must be her 
 trust when the hour of eternal separation should come. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey saw Mich's looks, and understood his feelings, 
 and she feared he might betray what was in his thoughts, 
 and therefore, to divert his mind, she said in a cheerful 
 voice: 
 
 " Now you and Anna go and sit down and chat away as 
 fast as you can. . It will be soon time for you to leave. I 
 presume the doctor will let you come often if you do not stay 
 too long." 
 
 What a multitude of questions were asked and answered. 
 What exclamations of wonder of pity, and of delight, as 
 the occurrences of the past few weeks were related by the 
 children, the one to the other, and how quickly time sped 
 away; but finally, Mich was reminded of the necessity of his 
 leaving. He was urged by Anna to stay a few minutes 
 longer, but replied firmly: 
 
 " Indade an' ye know I'm willin' enough to stay widout 
 yer' persuadin', but the docther'll may be be wantin' me 
 now, so I'll jist lave ye now and come agin." 
 
 He bade Mrs. Hervey good bye and started. Anna fol- 
 lowed him to the street door, and there she had so many last 
 words that it was a long time before he got away. 
 
 When Doctor Foster returned that day to his dinner, Anna 
 was more talkative than ever. She had so many things to 
 tell about Mich what he had said, and what he had done. 
 Among other things she told of Mich's last interview with 
 the pawnbroker, as Mich had related it to her. How he had
 
 156 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 offered a quarter if Mich would find her. " I wonder what 
 he wanted of me. Can you guess?" she asked, inquir- 
 ingly 
 
 " Humph ! He want to find you ? No good I'll warrant. 
 Let me think what was it didn't you say something about 
 a locket that you let him have ?" 
 
 " Anna took a locket there to pawn the day before" 
 
 " Yes, yes, I understand," interrupted Doctor Foster. 
 
 " It was a valuable picture," Mrs. Hervey continued. 
 
 " Picture miniature of your mother, you said, didn't 
 you ?" 
 
 " Yes, it was valuable as a work of art. It was painted 
 by an Italian. My mother went with my father one voyage 
 when she was first married, and while abroad my father had 
 that miniature painted. He always carried it with him 
 while he lived, and when he died he left it to my brother, 
 who several years since gave it to me. It was the last thing 
 I parted with." 
 
 " How much did you get for it ?" asked the doctor. 
 
 " He gave Anna a five dollar note which proved not to be 
 current, and so we were obliged to lose a part of it." 
 
 " Humph ? That's honest; how much did you finally get 
 for it ?" 
 
 " I think about two dollars and a half." 
 
 "The rascal; but you are getting tired, don't talk any 
 more. Anna tell me all about it. I'll get that locket again 
 if it's to be found on the face of the earth. To impose Tipon 
 helpless people after that fashion the villain."
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 157 
 
 Anna then told him all the particulars that she could 
 remember of her interview with the pawnbroker; and also 
 of her buying the articles at the grocery, and of her treat- 
 ment there. 
 
 After a moment's thought the doctor exclaimed: 
 
 " The lying rascal cheat a child. If there's any law, 
 but you said Mich was with you." 
 
 " Yes, I was afraid to go alone." 
 
 " Well, where's the ticket he gave you ?" 
 
 " The ticket I don't know," Anna answered. 
 
 " Don't know 1 What did you do with it ?" 
 
 " I don't remember; did I give it to you, mother ?" 
 
 ''You may have done so; but I think it is lost. I have 
 never seen it since." 
 
 " Lost ! Then the locket is lost, and that's the end 
 of the whole matter," exclaimed the doctor angrily. He 
 felt provoked and annoyed, and looked sullenly out of the 
 window, without adding another word. 
 
 Anna glanced at him timidly through the tears that were 
 ready to fall ; for she had never before seen a shade of anger 
 upon his countenance, and it troubled her exceedingly. After 
 looking out of the window for some minutes he turned sud- 
 denly around to Anna and said: 
 
 "When Mich Why, what's this? Tears 
 
 what's the matter now ? crying ? Don't cry, child tell me 
 what's the matter ?" 
 
 " I didn't mean to lose it. I'm so sorry it's lost," sobbed 
 Anna.
 
 153 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Humph ! that's always the way with a woman thought 
 I was vexed, eh ? and so I was, that's too bad, now come 
 here, child. There, that's it; wipe your eyes, don't let's have 
 any tears or snuffling now for a kiss there it's all settled 
 now," said the doctor, as he gave her a hearty hug. 
 
 "Mrs. Hervey, you don't think as Anna did, I hope; but 
 I'm confounded sorry the ticket's lost. Don't believe it'll 
 make any great difference, after all. I'll go and see a law- 
 yer. But it won't bring it back to fret about it. So, never 
 mind never mind we'll find a way to get it again. Per- 
 haps he don't know the value of the thing, and will be willing 
 to sell it for a trifle." 
 
 Anna wiped away her tears, and was happy again; and, 
 as he was preparing to leave the room, Mrs. Hervey remarked, 
 " Doctor, I think I am mistaken about a ticket, since you 
 have been speaking I have tried to recall the circumstances, 
 and I think there was no ticket given. Anna, did the pawn- 
 broker give you anything besides the five dollar note ?" 
 
 " No, Mother." 
 
 " Why didn't you say so, then, child, before ?" asked the 
 doctor. 
 
 " I didn't know what you meant. He offered me at 
 first four shillings, but Mich said I shouldn't let him have 
 it for less than five dollars, and so he gave me that," Anna 
 answered. 
 
 " So it's sold, then. Well, if there's such a thing possi- 
 ble, I'll have it back. I tell you, Mrs. Hervey, there's some- 
 thing about this that I don't understand ; there's a mystery
 
 CORNELL LEAVES NEW YORK. 159 
 
 connected with it. Why should the pawnbroker employ 
 Mich to search for Anna, can you imagine ? Had you ever 
 seen or heard of him before ?" 
 
 " No, I cannot imagine why he should wish to find 
 her." 
 
 " Can it be that Mich has come merely to find out where 
 she lives so as to report to him. I mistrust him." 
 
 " No, that cannot be," answered Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 " But I cannot fathom it ; it's no mere caprice ; but 
 after all there may be some very simple reason for his 
 wishing to find her, and when I have time to pass by his 
 shop I'll inquire myself. I hate mystery, and if this Mich 
 should come here again, remember to tell him I want to see 
 him." 
 
 So saying, the doctor left them alone, and took his way 
 to his office. As he went along he could not keep the mat- 
 ter out of his mind. Taking the whole circumstances to- 
 gether, he was dissatisfied. He was out of humor with 
 himself at having spoken so bluntly as to hurt Anna's 
 feelings, for he had become greatly attached to her. His 
 noble heart had found something on which to lavish the 
 wealth of his affections, and he was vexed for having 
 allowed himself to show any signs of ill-humor. He was 
 annoyed at the coincidence, which had made him introduce 
 to his home Mich, a raw Irish boy, of whose principles and 
 habits he knew nothing ; and who, for aught he knew, 
 might be an emissary of this pawnbroker, whom, the 
 doctor feared, was plotting some evil against his ward,
 
 160 OLD H A U N , THE PAWNBROKEB. 
 
 but why or how, he could not resolve ; but he determined 
 to keep an eye upon them both, and endeavor, by his 
 watchfulness, to thwart any plans that they might be 
 plotting.
 
 DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 161 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 
 
 APRIL with its rain and sunshine had passed. In the 
 distant fields the balmy breath of spring, lifted lightly the 
 leaf of the early flower. All nature was revived by its 
 gentle caress. But to the drooping, fainting, feeble invalid, 
 in the heart of the great city, it came not. 
 
 The sun was shining, and its cheerful light entered the 
 open casement of the room, where Mrs. Hervey lay. The 
 sofa had been wheeled away from the grate, and near the 
 window, that she might feel the cheering influence of the 
 bright spring day. She had but just risen, and it was now 
 near noon. Bat to Anna's question, " How do you feel now, 
 mother ?" she answered, " Weak, my daughter, very 
 weak." 
 
 Anna drew the shawl more closely around her mother, 
 and smoothed her pillow, endeavoring by caresses to show 
 her affection. Her lips quivered, and her eyes suffused 
 with tears when she noticed the increasing weakness of 
 that deal parent. Even now, she did not really understand
 
 162 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 that health and strength had left her forever. She hoped 
 that each succeeding day would restore them to her, as the 
 springtime brings life to the flower that the snows of winter 
 have crushed. This morning, Mrs. Hervey seemed more 
 cheerful than usual, and Anna had confidently expected 
 that she would say she felt better. Her mother's answer 
 had disappointed and discouraged her. After having 
 bestowed all possible attention upon her mother's comfort, 
 she brought her chair close beside the sofa, and, with her 
 work-basket by her side, sat silently down to the com- 
 pletion of the task which she had began. After sitting 
 undisturbed for a few moments, Mrs. Hervey inquired of 
 her : 
 
 " What time is it, Anna ?" 
 
 "'Most dinner time, I think," Anna replied, as she went 
 to the window and looked out, and then sought Biddy and 
 repeated the question. 
 
 " Yes, mother, it is almost three o'clock," she replied, 
 returning to her seat. 
 
 " Doctor Foster will be here soon then." 
 
 " Yes, the good doctor will soon come ; but what do you 
 want of him, mother ?" 
 
 " My daughter, I want to see a clergyman. I want to 
 hear, once more, the beautiful prayers of the church. I 
 feel as though they would give me strength." 
 
 "Will they make you well, mother ?" 
 
 " Anna, I sincerely trust that all is well with me now. 
 Mv body can never be better or stronger, but my spirit will
 
 DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 163 
 
 soon be free ; I feel it, I know it ; Anna, my dear girl, it is 
 not possible that I should live long ; you must not expect 
 it," said Mrs. Hervey, very feebly. 
 
 " Oh, mother ! my darling mother, don't talk so. You 
 must not die, and leave me here alone." 
 
 " Not alone. There is one who will always be with you." 
 
 "Oh, dear, what can I do ? I shall have no father nor 
 mother no one to love me when you are gone." 
 
 " Do you forget the kind friend whom God has raised up 
 for you, Anna ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, Dr. Foster is good and kind, and I love him, too, 
 but he is not my mother." 
 
 " True, child ; but you know I cannot always be with you, 
 and a few years more or less can not make much difference. 
 Trust in God and he will protect and love you. Remember 
 always that ' He doeth all things well. ' " 
 
 Anna could only weep ; she could not reason upon the 
 goodness or justice of the act that should deprive her of a 
 mother's love. Doctor Foster soon entered, and going toward 
 Mrs. Hervey cast upon her a scrutinizing glance, saying : 
 
 " Good morning : warming yourself in the sun ? Eh ! 
 Anna, crying, why what does this mean ?" 
 
 " Oh, mother says she is going to die," Anna answered, 
 and again burst into a flood of tears, and turning to her 
 kind friend, clasped the hand that was extended towards her. 
 
 " Come here, my own little girl. I hope she will live a 
 long tune yet," said the doctor as he drew the weeping 
 child towards him-
 
 164: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Doctor, don't try to deceive her ; it is not right that you 
 should the reality must come soon, and it is better that she 
 should be prepared for it." 
 
 The doctor took no notice of the remark, but continued 
 caressing Anna, and whispering kind words in her ear. In a 
 few moments she became more tranquil, and then he said 
 cheerfully : 
 
 " Run down stairs now and see if you can't help Biddy 
 get the dinner, for I'm terribly hungry." 
 
 Anna started immediately, although she was not deceived 
 by the doctor's ruse to get her away. After she had left the 
 room, he said : 
 
 " Mrs. Hervey, don't say anything more about that to her. 
 Poor little thing it would break her heart to lose you. It 
 does no good to talk about it. You cannot reason her into 
 resignation. It is not in the nature of things. You may 
 live yet a long time. I have not attempted to deceive you, 
 and while I say that you may live yet a long tune, you are 
 as well aware of the fact as I am, that your days on earth 
 may be much fewer than we suppose. There is nothing that 
 I would leave undone either to protract your life, or to alle- 
 viate your suffering. But don't even try to make Anna real- 
 ize your situation. Poor thing ! it will crush her when it 
 does come, but let her enjoy life as long as she can." 
 
 " Doctor Foster, I feel that you are right. Your counsel 
 is correct. God will bless you for your kindness to my poor 
 child. Love her ; protect her thus through life ; and the 
 loss of father and mother will be more easily borne by her," 
 said Mrs Hervey with emotion.
 
 DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 165 
 
 "Let me assure you that I will never desert her through 
 life, and upon this you may rely ; while I live she shall share 
 with me, and when I am called hence, I intend that she shall 
 not be left destitute," said the doctor, earnestly. 
 
 "I am satisfied. I have now two requests to make of you, 
 and then I am done. I feel that I am nearer my end than 
 even you imagine, and, therefore, as I have now an opportu- 
 nity I will speak without reserve," continued Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 " Say on ; whatever lies in my power shall be done for 
 you," replied the doctor. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey continued : " If you ever have an opportu- 
 nity, will you learn whether my brother, William Leonard, is 
 living. If you should discover him, tell him from me that I 
 often longed to see him, and assure him of my love and of 
 my forgiveness for his neglect. I know he must, if living, 
 have regretted it ; although I have but little expectation of 
 your ever meeting him." 
 
 " Supposing he were to appear and claim Anna as his 
 relative, what then ?" 
 
 " Anna I leave as my legacy to you. You shall have the 
 entire control and disposition of her until she shall become 
 of a proper age to take care of and act for herself. I do 
 this, feeling secure in the knowledge of your affection for 
 her," 
 
 " That is enough : from this time she is mine. What was 
 the other request ?" 
 
 " I would like to see a clergyman." 
 
 " Any one in particular ?"
 
 166 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Yes ! of the Church." 
 
 " Episcopal, I suppose, you mean." 
 
 " Very well, I will seek one and send him to you as soon 
 as I go into the street again." 
 
 "Thank you," Mrs. Hervey replied feebly, as she sank 
 back upon the pillow and closed her eyes. Biddy soon com- 
 menced laying the cloth for dinner, and with Anna's assist- 
 ance everything was soon ready. They sat down and ate in 
 silence, for no one felt inclined to converse. Anna had ar- 
 ranged the large easy chair for her mother, and had drawn 
 it to the table, where, with the doctor's assistance she was 
 comfortably placed. 
 
 After the doctor had finished his meal, and prepared to 
 leave, he said to Mrs. Hervey : 
 
 " Let me lay you on the sofa ; you will get too tired if 
 you try to sit up until I come back." 
 
 " Biddy and I can help her," said Anna 
 
 " You ! Well, well, do it then," and turning to leave the 
 room, muttered, " Do all you can, poor thing 1 Won't have 
 a chance long to help her." 
 
 The doctor went along debating in his own mind what 
 clergyman he should call. He was particularly acquainted 
 with several, but he had become attached to no society, nor 
 church. At length he decided to call upon a neighboring 
 clergyman whom he had several times met, and proceeded 
 at once to the house. As he stood waiting an answer to 
 his summons, he said to himself : 
 
 " Don't see what she can want with a clergyman. She's
 
 DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 167 
 
 better than any of them hope she'll be happier in the next 
 world than she has been in this." 
 
 His soliloquy was interrupted by the opening of the door 
 by the clergyman himself, who was about going out on a 
 professional call. The doctor made known to him the object 
 of his visit, and inquired if he could go. 
 
 The clergyman consented, and they started together : as 
 they walked along the doctor related, in answer to some 
 questions concerning her former life, as much as he thought 
 it necessary to communicate. 
 
 It was enough for the worthy minister to know that 
 she desired his services. He did not attempt to pry into her 
 present condition or her past life, but wished only to learn 
 enough of her character and disposition that he might be 
 able to speak understandingly, and the better minister to her 
 spiritual wants. 
 
 They soon arrived at the doctor's residence, and he led the 
 way into the room of the sick woman, saying : 
 
 " Mrs. Hervey, here is the clergyman, as you wished. 
 Anna won't you go and take a walk with me while this gentle- 
 man talks with your mother." 
 
 Anna's heart was too full to speak, she could only look 
 imploringly at her kind friend. The doctor understood the 
 appeal and said : 
 
 " Don't want to go, eh ? Better go ; but do just as you 
 have a mind to. Say, will you go ?" 
 
 " I'd rather not leave mamma," said Anna, in a whisper
 
 168 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Well, well ; stay then. I'll go away for a while, and 
 be back soon." The doctor then left. 
 
 While this was passing between the doctor and Anna, 
 Mrs. Hervey had been engaged in answering some general 
 questions of the clergyman. But he had observed Anna's 
 reluctance to leave and become interested in her, and as the 
 doctor closed the door he continued : 
 
 " I trust, Mrs. Hervey, you are not alarmed at the near 
 approach of death." 
 
 " No, sir ; death has no terrors for me. Anna is now the 
 only tie to bind me to earth. The love of a mother is 
 strong ; for her sake I cling to life, although God has raised 
 up for her a friend in her need, and I am truly grateful." 
 
 " You tire yourself, I fear. You had better speak but 
 little," remarked the clergyman, as he observed Mrs. Hervey's 
 exhaustion. " Anna, will you bring me a Bible. I will 
 read to your mother." Anna brought her mother's own 
 Bible. It was the family Bible one that her husband had 
 given her as a bridal present. This made it doubly dear to 
 her, although she loved it for its intrinsic value. Through 
 all the pressure of want she had preserved it, and now it 
 was the only legacy that she could leave her child. 
 
 The man of God opened and read, " Though I walk 
 through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no 
 evil : for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff they 
 comfort me." These blessed words fell upon her soul like 
 dew upon the thirsty earth.
 
 DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. 169 
 
 He continued, and his voice gathered strength and 
 earnestness as he proceeded. It seemed to revive her 
 exhausted energies. Denied as she had been for so long a 
 tune the privilege of listening to the Word from the lips of 
 its ministers, the language of encouragment and comfort 
 now addressed to her, carried with it a consoling power never 
 before experienced by her. 
 
 And then he prayed. The same prayers were now offered 
 by her dying couch, which she had loved even in child- 
 hood. 
 
 She lay with her emaciated hands clasped, and her eyes 
 upraised, as if her wrapt spirit had already taken its flight. 
 
 Anna's face was buried in the clothes that covered her 
 dying mother, and she did not observe the sudden move- 
 ment with which the minister bent forward to catch a 
 glimpse of the features of the sick woman as he arose from 
 his knees but she was aroused by hearing him exclaim in 
 a hurried voice : 
 
 " Anna, speak to your mother." 
 
 " Mother," she whispered. 
 
 No look no sign of recognition, and again she repeated 
 in a louder voice, " Mother ! mother, speak to Anna !" 
 
 " Anna, your mother is in Heaven," said the minister, as 
 he gazed sadly upon the pale face, and placed his hand upon 
 the forehead. 
 
 Oh, the agony of that young heart when the wailing cry 
 of "mother," was unanswered again she called " mother 1" 
 as she grasped the thin hand in both her own, but its cold-
 
 170 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 ness chilled her young blood, as she dropped senseless to the 
 floor. 
 
 As the clergyman lifted her from the floor, Doctor Foster 
 and Biddy simultaneously entered the room. Anna's cry 
 had startled both, and they rushed in to discover the 
 cause. 
 
 "What is it ?" exclaimed the doctor. 
 
 " She is dead ! and this child has fainted," answered the 
 minister. 
 
 " Poor thing give her here ? Water, Biddy quick, girl, 
 be quick some water ?" 
 
 The frightened servant brought water and sprinkled in 
 Anna's face, with loud and violent exclamations of grief. 
 
 " There stop your noise, Biddy, she is coming to. Poor 
 child," said the doctor, as he pressed his lips to her cheek. 
 And then the rough old man turned away to hide the tears 
 that trickled down his weather-beaten face. He who had 
 looked upon suffering in every shape, almost without a sigh, 
 now wept over the agony of the helpless child in his arms. 
 
 The clergyman closed the eyes of the dead, and laid her 
 clasped hands upon her breast, and then turned to the 
 reviving Anna, and said : 
 
 "My dear child God has taken earth's best treasure 
 from yon, and left you to breast alone the storms of life, 
 may He temper the wind to the shorn lamb !" 
 
 " Anna, child ; do you feel better now ?' ; said the doctor, 
 in soothing tones. 
 
 Anna languidly opened her eyes, and looked inquiringly
 
 
 
 
 
 DOCTOK FO8TEK AND ANNA. 171 
 
 into the doctor's face, and then closed them again, while a 
 shiver crept over her whole frame. 
 
 " Biddy, open the door ? let me put her on the bed, per- 
 haps she will fall asleep," said the doctor. 
 
 He carried her and laid her on her own bed, covered her, 
 and kissing her tenderly left the room. There she lay 
 stricken of grief weak and helpless as an infant. Pros- 
 trated by the shock, she did not weep, but lay with closed 
 eyes listening tremblingly to the noise of hurrying feet, and 
 the sound of voices echoing through the house. Biddy open- 
 ed the door, and came stealthily to the bed, and bent over 
 Anna, saying in a whisper : 
 
 " Slapin' so sweetly, the dear child." 
 
 Anna opened her eyes and said, " I'm awake, Biddy." 
 
 " Och 1 darlint, ye're hungry now, won't ye get up and 
 ate the nice supper that I have for ye ?" 
 
 " I am not hungry." 
 
 " Now don't ye be refusin' me, ye must thry and ate a bit, 
 the masther bade ye. Come now, down in the kitchen." 
 
 "Will you help me up, Biddy, I feel so bad, so bad 
 here," said Anna, laying her hand over her heart. 
 
 This was too much for Biddy's composure, notwithstand- 
 ing the doctor's directions not to make " a fuss " before 
 Anna. She could no longer contain herself, but clasping 
 the child in her arms, pressed her to her bosom, while the 
 tears flowed freely, and she exclaimed raising her up from 
 the bed : 
 
 " The saints presarve you, poor innocent crathur, what'll
 
 172 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 become of ye in the wide world alone ; but ye shall niver 
 want, while I have rue two hands left to work wid ; och 
 hone 1" 
 
 Thus moaning, and giving way to her sorrow, she took 
 Anna in her arms and carried her down into the kitchen, 
 where she tried to persuade her to eat something, but in 
 vain. Failing in this, she sat down caressing and crooning 
 over her. Biddy's feelings were touched by the pale face, 
 tearless eyes, aiid fixed look of Anna. She could not under- 
 stand the sorrow that found no vent in tears. Thns they 
 sat, until twilight found Biddy slumbering, and Anna lying 
 quietly in her arms. 
 
 The opening and closing of doors, and the tread of feet in 
 the rooms above had ceased. The measured step of the 
 doctor alone was heard. Soon he came down, and without 
 a word took Anna in his arms and carrying her up stairs, 
 sat down with her in his lap. 
 
 Anna started, and looked anxiously about when they 
 entered the little sitting room, and then exclaimed, as she 
 glanced around : 
 
 " Where, where have you put her ?" 
 
 " In there, she has not been taken away." 
 
 " May I see her now ?" 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor, as he placed her on her feet, and 
 led her into the next room. 
 
 The grey light of evening came dimly through the open 
 window, but enough to mark distinctly the slender form that 
 lay shrouded theve as unchanged in feature as if she slept
 
 DOCTOR FOSTER AND ANNA. ITS 
 
 a gentle breeze entered the casement and lifted one lock of 
 hair from the marble forehead. 
 
 Anna knelt, and smoothing back the dishevelled lock, 
 buried her face in her hands murmuring, " my dear mother." 
 Then came to her the full sense of her loss, for when before 
 had her caresses ever been unreturned when, the word of 
 love unheard and unanswered ? Tears for the first time now 
 rolled down her cheek and fell upon the face of the dead, 
 while convulsive sobs shook her frame. The doctor led her 
 away, pillowing her head upon his shoulder, thus she wept, 
 long and silently. There was no fond mother's sheltering 
 arms to fly to now. No word of love to check her grief, no 
 tender embrace to quiet pain. The world was before her. 
 The wilderness of life, and like Hagar, she must wander 
 forth alone.
 
 174: OLD HAUN, THE PAWKBBOKEK. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 
 
 UPON the receipt by Haun of Cornell's letter he opened 
 and read it calmly through, and then re-read it, and finally 
 laying it down said, " Just as I thought, men are all natu- 
 rally knaves. Take a thousand dollars and deliver up the 
 bond 1 Not I ; either the whole or nothing ; but I see 
 plainly two things are to be done. First, that boy Mich 
 must be hunted up, that's one thing ; secondly, I must, if ne- 
 cessary, go down to New Orleans ; that's the other thing." 
 
 " But now for Mich let me think. I've noticed him several 
 times lately with that gay doctor down near the battery, I 
 must see him." So soliloquizing, the pawnbroker closed his 
 shop, and started rapidly down Broadway towards the office 
 of Doctor Marsh. Reaching the place, he entered, and ob- 
 serving a student sitting with his feet raised up on the back 
 of a chair, and lazily perusing a morning paper, he inquired 
 of him : 
 
 " Is Doctor Marsh within ?" 
 
 The young man raised his eyes leisurely from the paper, 
 and permitted them to rest for a moment upon the intruder,
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 175 
 
 and then dropped them again upon paper, and continued 
 reading without deigning a word in answer : 
 
 Haun stood for some moments in the middle of the floor, 
 waiting for a recognition of his presence from the individual, 
 until getting somewhat impatient, he in a calm voice asked 
 again : 
 
 " Young man, is Doctor Marsh at home ?" The student 
 glanced up at the questioner, and then looking slowly about 
 the room as if searching for some one, replied 
 
 " No ; I should think not ; I don't see him anywhere 
 here." 
 
 Haun took no notice of the impertinent tone and manner, 
 but continued : 
 
 " Do you know a boy by the name of Mich Lynch ?" 
 
 " No ! I regret exceedingly on your account, that he does 
 not happen to be numbered among the gentlemen of my 
 acquaintance." 
 
 " I understand he is in the employ of Dr. Marsh." 
 
 " You may be correct." 
 
 " I am anxious to find him, and will wait till Doctor 
 Marsh returns." 
 
 " By the way," remarked the student after a pause," it 
 does seem to me that I have heard the name. The indivi- 
 dual who oversees the horse-holding and office-sweeping de- 
 partment, if I remember right, bears that cognomen." 
 
 " Do you know where he is at present ?" 
 ' Really, sir, you will excuse my ignorance, but I am 
 t< ally unable to answer your interrogatory."
 
 176 OLD HAT7N, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " It's of no consequence, I observe Doctor Marsh coming, 
 and will inquire of him." 
 
 " Good morning, doctor," said Haun, as the physician 
 entered. 
 
 " Ah, good morning, I was unexpectedly detained, or I 
 should have left word ; but take a seat ; don't remain stand- 
 ing. Brown, why don't you offer Mr. Haun a chair ?" 
 
 The student stood in amazement to see the haughty and 
 aristocratic physician, greet in such a cordial manner the 
 person whom he had supposed from his rough exterior and 
 slovenly dress to be some unfortunate stranger seeking, per- 
 haps, a charitable call. He allowed the paper to slide from 
 his hand to the floor, and looked on without rising or speaking. 
 
 " I should hope this young man didn't copy his manners 
 from his master," remarked Haun, quietly. 
 
 " I don't understand," replied Doctor Marsh, looking at 
 each alternately. 
 
 " It's nothing at all, only this young gentleman took me 
 possibly for one of his own acquaintances, as I judge from 
 his manner before you entered." 
 
 " I hope nothing has occurred to offend you," Doctor 
 Marsh remarked, deprecatingly. 
 
 " Oh, no ; I don't allow myself to be offended ; but to 
 cut the matter short, this person chose to answer me very 
 impertinently." 
 
 " How is this, Brown ?" 
 
 " I thought " said the abashed Brown. " I didn't 
 
 know that he was a riend of yours, or I "
 
 THE VISIT AKD PLOT. 1T7 
 
 " You should know all are friends who come to see me, 
 and particularly this gentleman, Mr. Hauu. As it will not 
 be for my interest to retain you, you will consider your 
 engagement with me terminated. Come this evening, and 
 we will arrange any arrears there may be. Now, Mr. 
 Haun, step into this room," said Dr. Marsh, leading the 
 way into an inner office, while Haun followed after. As 
 the latter passed the discomfited Brown, who stood with 
 hat in hand ready to take his leave, Haun leered into his 
 face, and with a grimace whispered : 
 
 " You don't see him anywhere here, do you ?" and with- 
 out stopping, passed on after Doctor Marsh into the private 
 office. 
 
 Motioning his visitor to a seat, Doctor Marsh remarked : 
 " I hope you didn't come to talk of money to-day, did you ? 
 the times are too close." 
 
 " No, I came for another purpose." 
 
 " Indeed ! What might that be ?" inquired Doctor 
 Marsh, curiously. 
 
 " Isn't there a boy living with you by the name of Mich 
 Linch ?" 
 
 " Yes, I think that's the name of the lad. It's Mich at 
 any rate. But you don r t think of offering him any other 
 situation ? I could not well part with him." 
 
 " No, I've no such intention ; I want merely to speak 
 with him a moment. Can you tell me where I shall find 
 him at present ?" 
 
 " I think lie's below, holding my horse. Shall I call him 
 up ?" 8*
 
 178 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBKOKEB. 
 
 " No, I'm obliged to you, I can speak with him just as 
 well there." 
 
 " Is Mich one of your customers ?" 
 
 " Perhaps you'd like to have me publish a list of my 
 customers." 
 
 " Not very particular," he answered, with a shrug. 
 
 " Wouldn't like to see your name in print, I suppose ?" 
 
 "No, I'm not desirous of seeing it in the company it 
 would probably have." 
 
 " Not such bad company neither. I think you'd recog- 
 nize some very near friends ; but good morning ; I must see 
 the boy Mich a minute," answered the pawnbroker, as he 
 left the office. 
 
 The doctor watched him from the window, as he ap- 
 proached the carriage to speak to Mich, and observed Mich's 
 start of surprise ; but at the moment, the attention of the 
 doctor was attracted to the entrance of some person, and 
 he turned from the window. It was the student, who said : 
 " I thought as you might have a few moments' leisure, I'd 
 come in now and arrange our matters before leaving." 
 
 " Pshaw 1" nonsense, Brown ; just sit down and go to 
 your studies. Didn't you know who that was ? Among 
 gentlemen, Mr. Haun, the money lender and usurer ; 
 among the poorer classes, Old Haun the pawnbroker." 
 
 " I had never seen him before, and did not take him, from 
 his appearance, to be one of your acquaintances." 
 
 "An acquaintance, but not a friend. It's always, best 
 to keep on the right side of such persons. So, never mind
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 179 
 
 what I said ; I did it only to put the old fellow in good 
 humor." 
 
 " Well, he's the toughest-looking knot I've seen this many 
 a day, and I don't think I was much to blame for taking 
 him for a pauper ; and I tell you what it is, I don't like to 
 be snubbed in that way, just to please every one that 
 chooses to take offence at my manners ;" and so, giving vent 
 to his feelings, the young man went sullenly back to his 
 seat, avowing to himself, that if he should ever get a chance, 
 he'd break the old devil's neck, or do some other equally 
 charitable act. 
 
 Mich was quite astonished when, on looking up, he 
 recognized his old acquaintance, the pawnbroker, and in- 
 quired : 
 
 " Did you spake to me, sir ?" 
 
 " Of course I did. So you've got up a step in the world, 
 have you ?" 
 
 "Ye've hit it this time. Kape a horse and carriage, ye 
 see," answered, Mich, looking up boldly into the pawnbro- 
 ker's face. 
 
 " Yes, I see. Your good luck has made you forget your 
 old friends, I suppose that's the way it always goes. You 
 don't see that little girl any more, do you ?" 
 
 " Not the laste bit in the world ; no such thing. Have 
 I missed seein' her a day since her poor mother died ? tell 
 me that," answered Mich, indignantly. 
 
 " Well, I was wrong then. I'm glad there's one who 
 doesn't forget his friends. So her mother is dead, is she ?"
 
 180 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Yes, it's a week ago, to-day, that she died ; but I'm 
 thinkin' ye're not the one to care much for it ?" 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but I want to speak with her. She's 
 born to good luck, Mich ; and if I can only find her, I can 
 tell her something that she'll be glad to know. This is the 
 reason I wanted you to look for her, as I mentioned awhile 
 ago ; but, I suppose, you don't have time now to do any- 
 thing for your friends." 
 
 " What is it ?" eagerly inquired Mich. 
 
 " Perhaps you'll hear, if you come along with me ; or if 
 you'd rather, and will promise to call at my shop, as soon 
 as you are through here, I'll wait there for you." 
 
 I'll niver fail to be there." 
 
 " At what time will you come ?" 
 
 " By five o'clock, sure." 
 
 " Well, I'll wait till that time," Haun carelessly remarked, 
 as he walked away, delighted with his success. He had 
 found her at last. But what excuse," said he to himself, 
 "shall I make for my visit. I must trump up something; 
 but that's easily arranged ; I'll think it over." So meditating 
 and resolving, he returned to his shop, and entering into the 
 remotest corner of his gloomy den, like a wolf in his lair, 
 curled himself up, to think undisturbed, and devise a plot 
 for obtaining possession of the unsuspecting girl, who was 
 the subject of his machinations. For a long time he sat 
 thus, his knees drawn up to his chin, and his eyes glaring at 
 the only aperture which admitted the light, till rousing him- 
 self he arose, ana with a chuckle said, " That's it," and at
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 181 
 
 the same moment the clock in the neighboring church tower 
 struck five and as the last reverberations sounded, Mich 
 entered the street door, and the pawnbroker advanced with 
 alacrity to meet him. 
 
 " Here I am, sir," Mich exclaimed, on entering. 
 
 " No doubt of it," answered Haun; " I see you, and now, 
 if you are ready I am, and we will go and find the little girl." 
 
 They started at once, and in a few minutes stood before 
 Doctor Foster's house. Mich seized the door knob and was 
 about to ring, when Haun laid his hand upon Mich's arm and 
 arrested the motion, at the same time saying: 
 
 " Stop a moment. Is it here that she is ?" 
 
 " To be sure it is." 
 
 " Doctor Foster lives here, don't he ?" asked Haun, as he 
 read the name on the door. 
 
 " Indade he does, but he don't live all alone." 
 
 " Now, as I'm alive, I've just this moment thought of an 
 engagement with a man that I promised to meet at my shop, 
 at this very time, and here I am a dozen blocks from home. 
 I shan't more than have time to get back. I must come an- 
 other day," exclaimed Haun, with a look of chagrin at his 
 pretended disappointment ; and without farther remark, after 
 glancing up at the street and number on the house, turned 
 and walked rapidly away, leaving Mich standing with his 
 hand on the knob, and his mouth open with surprise, as he 
 gazed after the rapidly retreating figure of his late compan- 
 ion. Mich was aroused by the voice of Biddy, who, looking 
 up from a basement window, cried out:
 
 L82 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 "Arrah, Mich, what'r ye blearin' at there? Come in 
 wid ye." 
 
 Mich descended into the kitchen, and while speaking a 
 moment with Biddy, Anna accidentally entered. She saluted 
 him cordially, and inquired: 
 
 " Why don't you come oftener to see me, Mich ? I've no 
 one to talk to now but you." 
 
 " I didn't come to see ye now." 
 
 " You didn't ! Then who did you come to see, Doctor 
 Foster ?" 
 
 "I'm jist afther comin' wid the ould villain of a pawn- 
 broker, and nobody else," answered Mich. 
 
 " Howly Moses ! an' it's choice company ye'r kapin'," in 
 terrupted Biddy. 
 
 " He's none o' me company thin; and be the same token 
 where's the harm of it if he was ?" answered Mich, while his 
 face flushed with anger. 
 
 " Ye'd better let Docthor Fosther hear ye say that same, 
 ye had." 
 
 " Sorry a bit do I care thin, whither Docthor Fosther or 
 inny other docthor hears me say it." 
 
 " More shame to ye thin," retorted Biddy. 
 
 " Mich, what made you do it," asked Anna, soothingly. 
 
 " The ould limb of Satan," ejaculated Biddy. 
 
 " If ye'd only tell me what ye mane, sure I'd understand 
 ye betther. I came across him in the street, and he asked 
 me if I knew where ye, (Anna) was livin'; and could I deny 
 it, and tell a lie ; and he wanted me to go wid him to see ye,
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 183 
 
 as he'd somethin* to tell ye ; and now he's gone and lift me 
 widout as much as sayin' by ye'r lave. No such bad luck in 
 that, aither; and now it's small thanks I'm getting for me 
 throuble." 
 
 "Well, well, Mich, don't be vexed," said Anna, laying 
 her hand upon his arm. 
 
 " Mich, are ye spakin' the truth ?" demanded Biddy, sol- 
 emnly. 
 
 "Is it that ye'r after askin' me, if it's the truth I'm 
 spakin' ?" 
 
 Never mind, Mich, Doctor Foster'll be in soon. He wants 
 to see you, he told me to tell you so. Don't care about what 
 Biddy said, she's vexed at that bad man's coming here when 
 Doctor Foster didn't want him to come." 
 
 At that moment Doctor Foster's step was heard above; 
 and soon the whole affair was repeated to him. He ques- 
 tioned Mich very closely, and at length said: 
 
 " Mich, I'm sorry you brought that man here. I'm afraid 
 of him. I'm afraid of his villainous, scheming disposition. 
 I understand he has tried for some time to discover Anna. 
 If he would come boldly and openly to my house, I should 
 not, perhaps, be suspicious; but he skulks, and there's evil 
 in him. I do not believe you would do anything to injure 
 Anna; but he is plotting some villainy which will soon 
 develop itself. So be on your guard, and be careful, Mich, 
 after this, what you tell him." 
 
 " I'll remember, sir. But, wasn't it quare he didn't come 
 in after he'd found out the house ?"
 
 184: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Humph, boy, he only wanted to find out where she was. 
 That locket that you and Anna sold him has something to do 
 with the matter; but what, I can't comprehend. So we'll 
 wait for more. But if I find the old devil prowling around 
 here, I'll break his head with my cane." 
 
 "I hope sir, ye'll not blame me; for by the manner of 
 talkin' he has, I thought he was her best friend on earth." 
 
 " No, Mich, no harm done yet; but if he should ask you 
 any more questions you must not answer him; or at least, 
 not give him any information. 
 
 " Not a word '11 he iver get from me again," Mich an- 
 swered, as bidding Anna good bye he left. He had gone but 
 a short distance when he saw the pawnbroker approaching 
 him. They met and Haun said to him : 
 
 " Well ! how is your little friend to-day ?" 
 
 " About the same, sir." 
 
 "I suppose she enjoys herself very much now." 
 
 " Ye'd bether belave it." 
 
 " She'll always stay with the doctor, won't she ? He means 
 to keep her." 
 
 " Perhaps if ye'd ask him yerself he'd be plased to an- 
 swer ye." 
 
 " Has she heard from her friends ?" asked Haun. 
 
 " No doubt she has many a time." 
 
 " It's my opinion you don't know much about the matter 
 any way." 
 
 " Ye're excadin' good at guessin,' " Mich answered, as he 
 turned off abruptly and permitted the pawi broker to con-
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 185 
 
 tinue on his way. Mich muttered to himself : " The dirthy 
 ould rascal, to be afther tryin' to stale around in that fashin', 
 like a thafe o' the world as he is, but all he's found out by 
 me this tune won't hurt him." 
 
 Haun continued on his way, but was disappointed. He 
 had laid in wait for Mich, intending on his leaving Doctor 
 Foster's house to fall in with him as if accidentally, and thus 
 worm out of him any further knowledge the latter might 
 have, and the possession of which he considered material in 
 enabling him to carry into successful operation the plans 
 that he had resolved upon. Still he had learned sufficient 
 for his present purpose, and so returned to his shop to ad- 
 dress to Cornell the following answer to the communication 
 he had just received. 
 
 " NEW YORK, May \Wi, 18. 
 " MR. JAMES CORNELL, New Orleans. 
 
 " Your bond for ten thousand dollars is, according to its terms 
 payable. It is unnecessary for me to waste time or words ; if the 
 amount of the same is not paid before the first day of July next, I 
 shall produce the legal heir to the estate of William Leonard, and 
 put her in possession of the property which you now wrongfully en- 
 ioy. This is not a vain threat, I have her under my control, and you 
 may rest assured that I shall not quietly release the amount due to me 
 from you and leave you in undisturbed possession of the property. 
 Keep your word with me, and your possession shall never be disturbed 
 by any act of mine. It will be unnecessary for you to write again 
 until you are prepared to make the remittance, and to comply fully 
 with the conditions of your agreement. 
 
 " Yours, 4c., 
 
 " CARLOS HATJN."
 
 186 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 Having dispatched this letter, the pawnbroker waited for 
 a few days before making any further attempts to carry out 
 his designs. He finally determined, however, to call at the 
 house in the absence of Dr. Foster for the purpose of having 
 an interview with the ward of the latter. He desired to 
 learn something further of her former history, to make him- 
 self acquainted with her person, and also by a partial in- 
 timacy to dispel the aversion that a sudden unexplained pre- 
 sentation of himself would create, and also by specious ar- 
 tifices to establish as favorable an impression of his own 
 excellent qualities as possible. This he considered a neces- 
 sary preliminary, and therefore kept watch near the residence 
 of Doctor Foster till he was certain of his absence, and then 
 went boldly to the door and rung the bell. It so happened 
 that Anna herself opened the door. Haun recognized her in 
 a moment, and said : 
 
 " Good morning, Anna. How do you do ?- I'll walk in 
 for a few minutes. I want to talk with you." 
 
 Anna stepped aside and allowed him to pass. She was at 
 a loss what to do and therefore made no reply but closed 
 the door and followed after him through the hall and into 
 the sitting room which he, perceiving the door open, had en- 
 tered. There they were met by Biddy, who had come up to 
 answer the bell, and who looked inquiringly from one to the 
 other, but Anna's countenance was blank and that of the 
 new comer imperturbable. Biddy therefore broke silence by 
 inquiring : 
 
 " Did ye want the docthor, sir ?"
 
 TEE VISIT AND PLOT. 187 
 
 " No, I came to see this little girl, and to talk with her, 
 we shan't need you, you can leave." 
 
 " Indade, sir, an' I'll not stir a step till I know who ye 
 are and what ye're business may be here, sir," answered 
 Biddy, positively. 
 
 " Just as you please then, I only want to tell her about a 
 friend that she has, that I used to know. She needn't be 
 afraid of me." 
 
 " I am not afraid of you, but I havn't any friend except 
 those who live here, and I don't want to talk with you 
 either," answered Anna, courageously. 
 
 Haun's eyes glared upon her a moment, but the look of 
 malice soon passed from his features, and gave place to his 
 usual crafty expression. 
 
 " Perhaps you don't like me very well now, because we 
 have n't got acquainted yet, but you'll like me a great deal 
 better when you have heard all I'm going to tell you." 
 
 " Don't ye belave him, Anna, he's decavin' ye," interrupt- 
 ed Biddy, who had stood listening attentively. " He's the 
 same one that the docthor was so vexed about, I'm sure he 
 is, aii' I'm thinkin' he'll not want ye to be spakin' with him 
 at all." 
 
 " I know it, Biddy," I haven't forgotten him. If the 
 doctor should come home and find you here, sir, I think 
 you'd be sorry." 
 
 " So ho ! then you haven't forgotten me since you and 
 your Irish friend came to sell that trinket. But never fear,
 
 188 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 the doctor's coming ; lie and I are good friends, I've just 
 seen him. I suppose you are his daughter now ?" 
 
 " Yes, I am, I mean to live with him always. I've got 
 no one else now, to live with," said Anna, sadly. 
 
 " Och ! darlint, haven't ye me too, an' don't I love ye as 
 if ye were my own flesh and blood ?" exclaimed Biddy. 
 
 " Well ! well ! now let me speak, your uncle has sent me 
 to see you. You recollect your uncle, don't you ?" 
 
 " My uncle ! I haven't any uncle." 
 
 " Why yes, you have, your uncle William Leonard. He 
 was a captain of a vessel when you were a little baby 
 you've heard of him ?" 
 
 " Do you know him ?" Anna eagerly inquired. 
 
 " Know him 1 he's the best friend I have in the world." 
 
 " I thought he was dead ? mother used to say so." 
 
 " No more dead than you are or I, I saw him not more 
 than two weeks since." 
 
 " Well ; he's not a very good uncle, or he would have 
 been to see us ; I don't care much about him ?" 
 
 " But what if he couldn't, what if he'd been hunting and 
 looking for you and your mamma almost the world over, for 
 years. But I'm sure yxm'll like him when you have heard 
 all that I can tell you." 
 
 " Do, tell me, won't you ? all about my uncle," Anna 
 inquired, in her eagerness to learn something of one, of 
 whom her mother had so often spoken before her death. 
 
 " Come close up to me and don't be afraid, and perhaps I 
 will."
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 189 
 
 Anna hesitated for a moment, but her curiosity over- 
 came her dislike and she approached, and stood by his side, 
 while he took her hand in his own and continued : 
 
 " So you didn't know that this uncle has been looking for 
 you so long, and has spent ever so much money to find you, 
 and has got me to hunt through the whole city after you ? 
 Didn't that little Irish boy tell you anything about my pay- 
 ing him to search ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mich told me that you wanted him to find me, but 
 I didn't know what for." 
 
 " Well that's what it's for it's so your poor uncle won't 
 go crazy from wandering over the world, looking here 
 and there and every where for you," said Haun, as he 
 attempted to distort his features into assuming a sad expres- 
 sion. 
 
 " I told Doctor Foster what Mich said, and he was very 
 angry," Anna continued. 
 
 " That's because he didn't know what was wanted, but 
 now listen, because I'm going to tell you all about your 
 uncle William Leonard. First, then, when he was young he 
 went to sea and stayed away a great while, and when 
 he got back and found your mother married, and you a little 
 thing in the cradle, he went off to Europe and travelled 
 about a great while till Le became rich, and owned a great 
 many vessels. Then after awhile he came back home and 
 wanted to find you and your mother. So he was not so 
 very wicked, was he ? He looked everywhere as I told you 
 but you had left your old home in New England, when he
 
 J.90 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 went back there, and he couldn't find you. He felt very 
 bad about it, too." 
 
 " How do you know all that ?" asked Anna, naively. 
 
 " Told me himself," answered Haun. 
 
 " Did he ? oh I'm so sorry mamma didn't know it. Where 
 is he now ? I should like to see him." 
 
 " Don't be impatient, there's time enough for that yet, let 
 me tell you more about him: he wanted to find you that he 
 might take care of you, and that you might live with him, 
 and then he would buy you nice clothes and everything that 
 could make you happy. He wants to see you very much, 
 and you must go with me some day to visit him." Haun 
 stopped to note the effect of his well told tale, and chuckled 
 at the expression of interest and credulity exhibited in the 
 eager and fixed look of Anna, and he thought to himself 
 that his work was half accomplished, and the task easier 
 than he had anticipated. 
 
 Anna interrupted his thoughts by saying: 
 
 " Tell me more of him. Don't stop," while Biddy stood 
 unconsciously with arms a-kimbo, and mouth open, intently 
 listening to the recital. 
 
 " Don't you want to turn me out of doors now ?" asked 
 Haun, with a grin. 
 
 " Oh, no; I didn't think at first that you knew my uncle," 
 answered Anna, deprecatingly. 
 
 " Well, then, I hope you will like me better the next time 
 I come, now that we have become acquainted," said Haun, 
 rising to leave.
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 191 
 
 11 Don't go yet, won't you please tell me where my uncle 
 is now ?" 
 
 " Perhaps I will the next time, and then you can go with 
 me to see him, but not now." 
 
 " I wish you would tell me now." 
 
 " Would you go and live with him ?" 
 
 " Oh, no, I couldn't go and leave good Doctor Foster and 
 Biddy," Anna answered. 
 
 " Och, the darlint !" exclaimed Biddy. 
 
 " Why couldn't you leave him ?" pursued Haun. 
 
 " Oh, he loves me so much he wouldn't let me go, I know." 
 
 " Is that all the reason ? why your uncle would love you as 
 much as he does, and would do a great deal more for you, 
 too, besides he's your mother's brother." 
 
 " Yes, I know ; but " 
 
 " Well, never mind now." 
 
 " Will you come again and tell me where my uncle is, 
 and when I can see him ?" 
 
 " Yes, some time ; and perhaps he'll come along with me, 
 though he can't go around much just now, but you can go 
 with me and see him, you know, you'd like to, wouldn't 
 you ?" 
 
 " Yes ; if Doctor Foster says I may." 
 
 "Well, you needn't say anything about it to Doctor 
 Foster, because, perhaps, your uncle '11 come himself. Now 
 good bye, my little girl, till I see you again," said Haun, as 
 he left the house. 
 
 Anna was very impatient for the return of Doctor Foster,
 
 192 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 she had so much to tell him about the discovery of her 
 uncle, and about her visit from the pawnbroker. But she 
 was astonished and totally unprepared for the ebullition of 
 passion and feeling, which her narrative of the events of the 
 morning produced upon him. 
 
 She listened in silence to his muttered threats and impre- 
 cations, till finally approaching him, she inquired : 
 
 " What i* the matter?" 
 
 " Matter, child matter enough, but I can see through it 
 all, I kno\v just how it '11 end, but it shan't though, if I can 
 help it. This uncle has come to life sooner than I expected, 
 and just at the wrong tune, too, and she's on nettles to know 
 all about him. I suppose the next thing '11 be, she'll want 
 to go and see him, and then go and visit him all from 
 curiosity. Why the devil can't a woman live without 
 knowing everything. There, now, don't go to crying, child, I 
 am not fretting at you, you couldn't help it. I believe that 
 old devil has lied to you. Don't believe a word of it, don't 
 believe he ever saw your uncle. Did he say he ever saw 
 him ?" 
 
 " I guess he did, I don't remember. He told me so many 
 things. How could he know all about what my uncle 
 thought and did, if he had not seen him ?" Anna inquired. 
 
 " Humph 1 can it be ? If it should but I'll thwart him 
 yet. Didn't I say there was something in the wind, when 
 that old villain hired Mich to look for you ? I knew it, 
 because he'd never engage in any honest work." 
 
 " Why, what do you mean ?"
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 193 
 
 " Never you mind. I'll attend to him." 
 
 " What are you going to do ?" 
 
 " Just be easy, I'll tell you by and by. Call Biddy." Anna 
 did so ; and Biddy soon stood before them. 
 
 " Biddy," said the doctor. " I'm going out a few moments. 
 Do you lock the door, and keep it locked, and don't you ad- 
 mit any one while I am gone. No matter who comes ; do 
 you understand ?" 
 
 " Yis, sir, but won't ye ate ye're dinner before ye go ? It's 
 ready, sir, this very minute." 
 
 " No, no ; hang the dinner ; that can wait. Now mind 
 what I say. Don't yon let any one come inside of that door 
 while I am gone." 
 
 " Yes, sir, but 'tis too bad, the dinner'llbe spoilt intirely." 
 
 " Yery well, let it spoil then, you and Anna can eat it." 
 
 " Och ! indade, sir, we'd never think of snch a thing. 
 I'll kape it warm till ye get back." 
 
 The doctor left the house without farther remark, and 
 strode away as fast possible for the purpose of seeking the 
 office of the surrogate, and thus, by taking at once the 
 proper steps, invest himself with due authority as the legal 
 custodian of his ward. He was sorely perplexed, and did not 
 know how to interpret the circumstances which had come to 
 his knowledge, nor the story which the pawnbroker had 
 related. True, the story itself was plausible enough, there 
 was nothing impossible in the reported re-appearance of the 
 child's uncle. But why was there any mystery made of it ? 
 Why operate secretly ? Why should any person come to 
 
 9
 
 194 OLD HA.UN, THE PAWNEE OKEE. 
 
 his (the doctor's) house, instead of applying to himselt 
 directly ? How carne it that an individual of so very ques- 
 tionable character as the pawnbroker, should have been 
 selected for the purpose of restoring her to her uncle ? The 
 story might be true, but it was at any rate surrounded by 
 strange circumstances. All these things the doctor revolved 
 in his mind on his way to the surrogate's office, where he 
 determined, at any rate so far as he could, to fortify his right 
 to the possession of the child. He found the officer disen- 
 gaged, and stated to him the particulars of the case as far 
 as necessary, and made application for the guardianship of 
 Anna Hervey during her minority. 
 
 " There is no property, I understand you "to say ?" re- 
 marked the Surrogate. 
 
 " An old Bible and a few trifles of no value, are all the 
 poor child has left." 
 
 " Very well, sir ; I will see that the appointment is pro- 
 perly entered ; that is all that is required of you." 
 
 " Now is everything done ?" inquired the doctor. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " So that no person can exercise any control over her 
 contrary to my wishes, or without my consent ?" 
 
 " Certainly. But, doctor, what do you want of this 
 child?" 
 
 " I want her to love me. You have a wife and children. 
 She's all that to me." 
 
 " Well, you are the last one I should suspect of wanting 
 either."
 
 THE VISIT AND PLOT. 195 
 
 " Humph 1 I've lived sometime in the world without them 
 at any rate," said the doctor, as he left the office to return to 
 his home. He felt safe, now ; his mind was more at rest ; 
 he could sit down and eat his dinner in peace, and as he 
 entered his house with a light step, and lighter heart, he 
 called out : 
 
 " Hallo, there, Anna, just come here. Do you know that 
 you are mine, now ?" 
 
 " Why, what do you mean ?" 
 
 " I mean that you are mine ; that I am bound to take 
 care of you, and that you are bound to live with me, and 
 that no one can take you away. Do you hear that ?" 
 
 " Yes, but I didn't want to go away. Where could I 
 go ? There's no one but you to take care of me." 
 
 " Exactly ; but you know this uncle that's just come to 
 life after so many years, what, if he should come and want 
 you to live with him ? " 
 
 " I don't think he's a very good uncle, or he would have 
 come before Mamma died. I wouldn't go ; I don't want to 
 live with any one but you," said Anna, as she threw her 
 arms around her guardian's neck, and kissed him affection- 
 ately. 
 
 " God bless you ; there, promise me you will never leave 
 the old doctor to live alone," said the doctor, as he returned 
 the embrace. 
 
 " No ; my mamma gave me to you. I don't want ever 
 to h've with any one else," Anna answered. 
 
 " Would ye plase to ate ye're dinner ? its gettin' could,"
 
 196 OLD HATTNj THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 interrupted Biddy, as she came into the room for the third 
 tune since the doctor's return. 
 
 " Dinner ; certainly, we'll eat it at once, just as good 
 cold as hot," the doctor replied, laughing at Bridget's 
 anxiety. 
 
 He now felt better satisfied, and thinking that he had 
 sufficiently fortified the outworks, after thinking the matter 
 over, concluded that he would himself go and see Haun and 
 ask an explanation. 
 
 He saw the necessity of an immediate and full under- 
 standing of the matter, and determined at whatever cost to 
 have it before resting. With this purpose in his mind, he 
 ate his meal, in excellent spirits, and determined on the 
 morrow to seek a personal interview with the pawnbroker.
 
 THREATS OF REVENGE. 197 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THREATS AND VOWS OF REVENGE. 
 
 " YOUR name is Haim ?" 
 
 " It is, sir. Anything I can do for you ?" 
 
 " Humph ! Do for me. Perhaps you don't know me." 
 
 " Haven't that pleasure, sir," said Haun, in his most fasci- 
 nating manner; at the same time industriously rubbing his 
 hands together. 
 
 "You haven't? eh! Well, my name is Foster, Benjamin 
 Foster. Possibly you have heard the name before." 
 
 " Can't say I ever did; but I've no doubt you are perfectly 
 responsible." 
 
 " You mistake my business here. I have called to inquire 
 whether you were at my house yesterday, and what youi 
 object was in calling ?" 
 
 " Ah ! now I begin to understand; but there's no necessity 
 of talking quite so loud, doctor. Come in and sit down, and 
 I shall be glad to answer you." 
 
 " No, sir, my business will be quite as easily disposed of 
 standing as sitting." 
 
 " Very well, suit yourself."
 
 198 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 "Now, sir, I've no time to spare, will you answer my 
 question ?" 
 
 " Let me think you inquired what I came to your house 
 for ?" 
 
 " That was the question." 
 
 " How do you know that I was there ?" 
 
 " The child that is placed under my charge, and that you 
 seem to be somehow interested in, told me so." 
 
 " So, she told you, did she ? Well, perhaps, as she told 
 you that, she can answer your other question." 
 
 " Do you deny that you were there ?" 
 
 "Deny it I Why should I deny it? Is there any law 
 against any man's entering a house in the middle of the day, 
 when he's bidden ?" 
 
 " Do you pretend that you were bidden to enter my house 
 in my absence ? Then, if so, you are now forbidden ever 
 showing your face inside of the door again. Humph 1 fine 
 state of things, when a man's dwelling must be open to every 
 rag-tag and bobtail that chooses to enter." 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, sir. I shall have no occasion to visit 
 you again; although, if I should wish to, I should probably 
 come. But if you have nothing farther to say, I will leave 
 you," said Haun, with perfect coolness. 
 
 " Wait, sir," the doctor replied, with emphasis. " I have 
 something farther to say. Toll me what your business was at 
 my house ?" 
 
 " I thought I had mentioned that I called to see the little 
 girl that's living with you."
 
 THREATS OF REVENGE. 199 
 
 "Yes, and what business had you there ? what have you 
 to do with her ?" 
 
 " Now, sir, I'll tell you what business I had there, and 
 why I went to see the child: I was sent by another." 
 "Humph! sent by another. Who sent you?" 
 "One that has a better right to her than you have." 
 " Man, will you speak ? who sent you ?" 
 " Don't get excited, doctor, or I might take it into my 
 head not to tell you anything farther; but I will. I was 
 sent by her Uncle Leonard. Perhaps you didn't know that 
 she has an uncle. She has, though," said Haun with a grin. 
 " "Where is he ? Tell me where he is ?" 
 Haun hesitated a moment, and then replied: 
 " He's not here in the city, but not far away." 
 " Impossible ! Villain, you Me it's a damned lie. It's 
 some of your cursed trickery it's all a scheme. Uncle I 
 the same kind uncle that deserted his sister while living, and 
 left her to die in poverty. Is this the uncle that is now so 
 anxious to claim his niece ? Why don't he come himself ? 
 Is he afraid to show himself among honest men, by daylight ? 
 Now, sir, go to him that hired you, and tell him that he need 
 send no more pimps to my house. The child remains with 
 me, and under my roof until of her own free will and incli- 
 nation she seek another home." 
 
 " He'll come soon enough, let me tell you; and he'll have 
 her, too." 
 
 "Not while I live!" the doctor replied, emphatically. 
 " And as for yourself, if I hear of your ever prowling around
 
 200 
 
 ray house, or entering my door again, under any pretence 
 whatever, I'll break every bone in your body, as sure as 
 there's strength left me to do it." And so saying the doctor 
 turned and left the pawnbroker's shop ; leaving the worthy 
 proprietor standing, dumb with passion, behind the counter. 
 
 He strode rapidly along, without noticing friends or ac- 
 quaintances whom he chanced to meet. Intent only on 
 reaching a place where, undisturbed and unobserved, he 
 might think over the events of the morning, and resolve 
 upon the course to be taken by him in this emergency. To 
 him the whole matter was now plain. He could not doubt 
 the truth of Haun's words, so far as they related to the 
 uncle William Leonard, and to the fact of his being still 
 living ; for his relation of the circumstances, so far as it went, 
 was consistent with the details of Mrs. Hervey's early history, 
 and which he had no reason to doubt. The idea of ITaun's 
 having obtained such knowledge of the family surreptitiously 
 did not once occur to him. He therefore supposed that 
 Anna's uncle, William Leonard, must be still living, and in 
 communication with Haun, and that he had employed the 
 latter to search out his relative, for the purpose, undoubtedly, 
 of obtaining possession of her; and on such a hypothesis 
 could also be explained Haun's object in searching for the 
 girl, and in oifering Mich a compensation for assisting in the 
 search. He abandoned the idea of Haun's having any other 
 inducement to prosecute his attempt. 
 
 But why should not the uncle himself appear, and boldly 
 claim her was a question which he asked himself; but to
 
 THREATS OF KEVENGE. 201 
 
 which there was no response. Why should he employ an 
 agent, and, above all, such an agent ? and why proceed so 
 cautiously and secretly ? Here, again, was a problem that he 
 could not solve. The more he revolved the matter in his 
 mind the more obscure it became to him ; till, after working 
 himself into a state of nervous excitement, the doctor gave 
 it up in despair, and resolved to wait until time should make 
 all things plain. Still, he determined to keep watch ; for 
 he feared no means would be left untried by Haun, to ac- 
 complish his ends, and gain possession of the child, either by 
 fair means or foul. He remembered the threat made by 
 Haun, in his anger, and determined to thwart him. And, 
 with these thoughts whirling through his mind, and having 
 marked out the course to be taken, subject to the different 
 contingencies that might occur he left his office and took 
 his way to his home. 
 
 Arrived there he found Anna seated as usual by the 
 window, and busily engaged -with her needle. She looked 
 up when Doctor Foster entered, and said : 
 
 " Why, how you look, I don't believe you feel well, are 
 you sick ?" 
 
 " No, no, child," he said, with a sigh of relief. 
 
 " What have you come home for ? it's not meal time yet." 
 
 " I know that, but I came home to talk to you. I want 
 you to put away your work and listen to me ; I've something 
 to tell you." 
 
 " Why, what can it be ?" Anna inquired curiously, as she 
 approached the doctor. 
 
 9*
 
 202 OLD IIAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Anna, you know what that man that came to see you 
 when I was away, told you ?" 
 
 " Yes, he said he knew my uncle." 
 
 " Well ; I have been to see him, and have talked with 
 nim, and he says that your uncle sent him to see you. Now 
 you are not old enough to judge for yourself ; but I don't 
 believe from the little I have learned, that this uncle, wher- 
 ever he may be, is the right kind of a man for you to live 
 with; and more than that, you wouldn't want to leave me, 
 would you ?" 
 
 " Oh, you know I would not leave you, I am your's, and I 
 don't care if my uncle does come for me. I thought I should 
 like to see him, because you know I heard mamma speak of 
 him so often ; but if he is not a good man, then I don't want 
 to see him at all." 
 
 " But, Anna, listen ; he says he will take you away from 
 me and have you live with him, whether you want to go or 
 not." 
 
 " Oh, don't let him take me. I won't go. What shall I 
 do ?" exclaimed Anna, in an agitated manner, and clinging 
 to the doctor's arm. 
 
 " No, Anna, he shall not take you ; your mother gave you 
 to me, and the Surrogate has appointed me your guardian, 
 and I have the control over you so that he has no right to 
 take you away from me,, and cannot get you unless you have 
 a mind yourself to go, when I don't know it ; you wouldn't 
 do that ?" 
 
 " How can you think it ? you don't belief e I would ?"
 
 THREATS OF KEVENGE. 203 
 
 " No I hope not. He might not come himself, but might 
 send some one, perhaps the same bad man that was here 
 yesterday, but* you mustn't go with any one. He may try 
 and coax, and say a great deal that isn't true tell you of 
 so many nice things that he'll give you, and of what he will 
 do for you, and all that, but don't you believe a word he 
 says. And one other thing, remember ; I don't want you 
 should go out alone to walk, always have Biddy go with 
 you, and when the door bell rings, let Biddy answer it ; don't 
 you go, for perhaps he will come again." 
 
 "He said he would," Anna replied; "but, doctor, why 
 don't my uncle himself come ?" 
 
 "I do not know, Anna that's what seems to me 
 strange." 
 
 " I think my uncle can't be a very kind uncle, or he 
 wouldn't have gone off and left my mother as he did, so, 
 after all, I don't care about seeing him." 
 
 " Well, it don't make much difference who or what he is ; 
 he don't get you, that's settled." 
 
 " I should be afraid to go with that man that came here, 
 I was dreadfully afraid of him the first tune I saw him, 
 when Mich and I went to sell that locket, and, oh ! did you 
 get that ?" 
 
 " No ! but never mind the locket now ; call Biddy, I want 
 to speak to her." 
 
 When Biddy entered, the doctor said : 
 
 " Biddy, don't you let that man in the house again if he 
 should call : mind ! on no pretext, whatever."
 
 204: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Sure it was Anna herself that let him in.'' 
 
 " Well, Anna must not go to the door again. You 
 answer the bell when it rings, and remembef what I say, 
 that man must not come inside of the house again." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I will," Biddy answered, wonderingly. 
 
 "And another thing, when Anna goes to walk you go 
 with her, she must not go alone, understand ?" 
 
 " Indade I do, sir." 
 
 " Well, that is all now, I must go back to my office again. 
 Humph, afternoon 'most gone," said the doctor, looking at his 
 watch. " What shall I bring you, Anna ? a book ? Yes, 
 that's it, a pretty story book good bye." 
 
 Away he went with a lightened heart, thinking Anna's 
 antipathy to the pawnbroker a sufficient safeguard against 
 her being cajoled and enticed away by him. He therefore 
 felt secure in his possession, and turned cheerfully to other 
 duties. 
 
 The pawnbroker had been, however, differently engaged. 
 After the departure of Doctor Foster from his shop he 
 remained in the same position, with his eyes fixed upon the 
 retreating form of his late visitor, until it disappeared in the 
 distance, while his face became livid with rage, and the 
 muscles of his mouth moved spasmodically, giving him a 
 hideous, ghastly look. Then with firmly closed lips he 
 withdrew slowly and meditatively into his inner apartment ; 
 and sinking his head upon his hands, as was his custom 
 when deeply excited, sat in sullen thought : there was the 
 recklessness of uncontrollable anger in his heart, and a fixed
 
 TH KEATS OF KEVENGB. 205 
 
 determination in his manner. He vowed revenge an in- 
 tense hatred was now added to, or rather consumed, the pas- 
 sion of avarice that had hitherto been almost the sole tenant 
 of his bosom. He had been insulted, threatened treated 
 like a dog, and he would have revenge revenge at any 
 sacrifice. 
 
 " He'll find out to his cost who he's dealing with," mut- 
 tered Haun, as he clutched his right hand convulsively; 
 " I'll have her from him if I die for it," he continued, and 
 
 then for a moment relapsed into silence. "And that 
 
 villain, Cornell, he'll find out that I'm not to be trifled with, 
 after helping him to a fortune. But that's nothing ; I'll 
 have that child from him. But what'll I do with the little 
 
 after I get her ? perhaps have to throttle her to put 
 
 her out of the way, finally." 
 
 Hauu continued for a long time in meditation, occasion- 
 ally breaking out into some exclamation of hatred, or some 
 execration, as his thoughts reverted from Doctor Foster to 
 Cornell; till having partly matured his plans, he becamo 
 more tranquil, and having somewhat recovered his equanim- 
 ity, started out and took his way again to Doctor Marsh's 
 office. After walking up and down the street past the place 
 several times, until he saw the doctor enter his office ; he 
 stepped up to Mich, as he was about driving off, and said : 
 
 " Mich I I want to talk with you a little, wait a few 
 minutes." 
 
 " Well, be quick then, for I must be afther putting up 
 the horse jist now."
 
 206 OLD H A U N , THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 "You're a smart boy, Mich, you'll make your fortune 
 soon." 
 
 " If it's to blarney me, ye'd have me wait, thin I'll be 
 going. I know ye're thricks," Mich answered, as he took 
 up the reins. 
 
 " I'm not trying to blarney you, I've got something to 
 say ; wait for a moment." 
 
 " Well, then, what'll ye have of me ?" 
 
 " Not much, only that when you go to see your young 
 friend again, I want you to stop at my shop, as I've got 
 something to send her." 
 
 " Och 1 and is that all ?" 
 
 " Yes, will you ?" 
 
 " Well, I'll thry to remimber it," answered Mich, as he 
 drove off, leaving Haun standing on the walk, muttering to 
 himself : " I'm afraid I shan't be able to manage him." 
 
 The fact that the pawnbroker had come so far and taken 
 such trouble for the purpose of engaging Mich to do so 
 small an errand, instead of procuring some person nearer, 
 or going himself, rather excited Mich's suspicions, and so, 
 after he had put up the horse, he trudged along home, 
 resolved to communicate his suspicions to his mother, and 
 take her counsel in the premises. So as soon as he had 
 reached home, and got seated, he related to his mother the 
 whole matter, and also stated his suspicions, and asked her 
 what he had better do. ' She advised him to communicate 
 to Doctor Foster Haun's request, and to lay the whole mat- 
 ter before him, and to be guided implicitly by his advice.
 
 THREATS OF REVENGE. 207 
 
 He determined to do so, and hurrying through with his 
 evening meal, sought the residence of Doctor Poster. 
 Mich found him fortunately at home, and related the con- 
 versation that had just taken place between him and the 
 pawnbroker, and of his inquisition on his meeting of the 
 latter a few days previously. 
 
 " What did you tell him, Mich ?" the doctor inquired, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Indade, sir, it's very little the wiser he is for what 
 he's learned from me. He thried to find out a great many 
 things about Anna, sir, but in faith I couldn't tell him any- 
 thing, for the best rason in the world, I didn't know any- 
 thing myself." 
 
 " Well, that is right, so far ; but, Mich, you must not 
 mind what he says hereafter. He pretends that Anna's 
 uncle has engaged him to recover her. Whether this is a 
 mere pretence or not, I do not know, but no one can have 
 her away from me. He's anxious to have you help him. 
 Don't you see that, Mich ?" 
 
 " In faith I'm of your mind intirely, but I'd ate my own 
 head before I'd help him. But why don't the uncle himself 
 come thin to see her, or send to ye, instead of getting sich 
 a dirty ould villain ?" 
 
 " True, it's no great recommendation for him to employ 
 such a fellow ; but I expect I shall have trouble with him 
 yet." 
 
 " The Lord save us I if I'd such an uncle I'd disown him, 
 intirely, that's what I would."
 
 208 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBKOKEJS. 
 
 " Now, Mich, I believe I can trust you. I was afraid at 
 first that I couldn't : I am satisfied now, but be careful 
 what you do ; pretend to be on his side, and worm out of 
 him all you can ; and then let me know everything at once, 
 there must be no delay ; there'll be no harm in it. We 
 must circumvent him some way." 
 
 " Why, doctor, would that be right ?" Anna interrupted. 
 
 " Can't help it child ; we must turn his own weapons 
 against himself," the doctor answered. 
 
 " You need'nt be afraid of my leaving you. I could not 
 love this uncle I know I could'nt," said Anna. 
 
 " Child, you know precious little of this world. Great deal 
 he'd care whether you loved him or not, or whether you 
 wanted to go or not." 
 
 " I would'nt go any way." 
 
 " I'm afraid he would'nt stop to ask you." 
 
 " Why ! what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Nothing, nothing, child. I shall frighten her to death 
 some of these days," muttered the doctor. " But, Mich ! you 
 said that the old villain wanted you to stop at his shop, in 
 order that you might take something from him to Anna. 
 You have'nt been there yet, have you ?" 
 
 " No, sir ; I thought I'd spake with yerself first." 
 
 " That's right, Mich 1 but I'd like to know what he's after, 
 and if you can just as well go now as any time I wish you 
 would." 
 
 " Jist as well now as any time, and if ye wish it, I'll be off 
 at once."
 
 THREATS OF REVENGE. 209 
 
 " Right, Mich, go ; and perhaps I shall be at home when 
 you come again." 
 
 Mich seized his hat and dashing off, ran directly to Haun's 
 shop, and entering in haste, said : 
 
 " Now I'm here, sir, what '11 ye have of me ?" 
 "You're rather late, it seems." 
 
 " Ye don't suppose I'd be comin' widout me supper, do ye ?" 
 
 " So you think more of your supper 'than you do of your 
 young friend, eh ?" 
 
 " Frindor no frind, I'm not yet so used to starvin' that I 
 begin to like it." 
 
 " Mich, how would you like to be rich and have as much 
 as you can eat, and have a nice house to live in ?" 
 
 " How would I like it ? Jist let me thry it first and then 
 I'd be bether able to tell ye." 
 
 "Well, Mich, I'm going to tell you how you can earn 
 enough to buy you a nice supper every night for a year, if 
 you'll do what I want you to." 
 
 " Ah, ye'd intice a bird from its nest wid the flatthering 
 tongue ye have. Now d'ye mane it sure ?" said Mich, eagerly. 
 
 " Certainly I mean it, and I'll do just what I say, if you 
 only know enough to keep a close mouth, and do as I wish 
 you to." 
 
 " It's aisily done, no doubt," Mich answered. 
 
 " Well, what do you say ; it's an offer that you don't 
 get often. Will you do it ?" 
 
 " Troth an' I will, thin, and thank ye into the bargain," 
 Mich answered, with seeming enthusiasm.
 
 210 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBKOKEB. 
 
 "Well, now mind tfhat you're about, for if you should 
 tell any one what you learn from me, you'll wish you'd never 
 been born," said Haun, savagely. 
 
 " Never ye fear, it's not every day I get such an offer." 
 
 " Well, then, if we succeed I'll give you what I promised." 
 
 " Now what do you want of me ?" 
 
 " It's this, Mich : Your little friend Anna has an uncle, 
 who has been trying for a great while to find her, so that he 
 could take her to live with himself. He has just found out 
 where she is, and wants to get her, of course. He's rich and 
 can give her everything she wants, and make a fine lady of 
 her. But you see, Mich, this Doctor Foster pretends to have 
 taken a fancy to her, but what he wants of her the Lord 
 only knows ; at any rate he's determined to keep her away 
 from her uncle ; her own blood relation, who lives down in 
 New Orleans, or some other place down South, and so he 
 can't come here himself, but he is a friend of mine and wants 
 me to get his niece for him, which I mean to do. But this 
 Foster won't let me have her nor see her if he knows it, and 
 it was only yesterday that he came here to abuse me, because 
 I called at his house to speak with her. There is something 
 wrong about that man, Mich. But what I want of you is to 
 help me get possession of the girl. She herself would be 
 willing enough if it was'nt for that doctor, and if we succeed 
 I'll give you a part of what I shall get for my trouble it'll 
 be something handsome, Mich, I tell you. So if I can't get 
 at the girl any other way, you must have her go out walking
 
 THREATS OF REVENGE. 211 
 
 with you, and then I can speak with her in the street we're 
 bound to make our fortune, Mich, an't we ?" 
 
 " I honestly belave it, sir," Mich answered, solemnly. 
 '" And then her uncle's rich, and no children either not 
 the shadow of one. What luck there may be in "store for 
 her, think of that." 
 
 " Faith, if I could belave it would come to that, wouldn't 
 I thry to put her in the way of enjoyin' it ?" 
 
 " Well, Mich, only do as I direct you, and it will all 
 come out right." 
 
 " Never ye fear me ; but whin would you like me to 
 bring her wid me ?" 
 
 " Not just yet. I'll tell you when I'm ready. But, Mich, 
 I fancy it would be as well for you when you see her again, 
 to tell her about this uncle ; tell her how much he wants to 
 see her after the many years he's been hunting for her, and 
 how glad he is at having found her, and what a pleasant 
 home she'll have when she goes to live with him, and how 
 he'll give her everything she wants ; but mind, Mich, that 
 that old doctor don't hear you ; that's all that you have to 
 be afraid of, and don't let her tell him either, or perhaps 
 he'd shut her up, and not let her see you nor any body else 
 again for a year or longer." 
 
 " It's a cryin' shame to be after abusin' the poor innocent 
 after that fashion, ain't it, sir ?" 
 
 " Of course it is," Haun answered, with a sad look and 
 tone, while a gleam of pleasure shot for an instant from his 
 eyes.
 
 212 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " But I'll blarney her till she'll think the moon is made of 
 cheese, only ye see onct." 
 
 " Here are some nice picture books, put them in your 
 pocket, and give them to her when she's alone. Her uncle 
 sent them to her." 
 
 " I'll go and see her, now," Mich answered, as he received 
 the articles. 
 
 " Well, come around again after awhile," Haun cried out 
 as Mich left the shop. 
 
 Mich started off at a rapid pace until he had gone some 
 distance, and then gradually relaxed his speed till he almost 
 stood still, while he muttered to himself : 
 
 " An' is this yer own self, Mich Lynch, to be listenin' to 
 the ould rascal fa'th but he's an oucommon one the 
 wicked thafe, but I'll tell the docthor every word of it." 
 
 After having communed with himself in this wise, he 
 darted off, and soon arrived at the residence of the doctor, 
 whom he found impatiently waiting his return. Anna was 
 in the room, and Mich hesitated about making his commu- 
 nication before her ; for, from what he had observed, he 
 concluded that the doctor did not wish her to become 
 cognizant of his fears and suspicions. Therefore Mich said, 
 earnestly : 
 
 " I've got a word to spake to ye, docthor, as soon as 
 I've given Anna the beautiful things her uncle sent her by 
 me." 
 
 " She don't want anything from her uncle ; I'm her uncle 
 and her father too, and she don't want any other," ex-
 
 THREATS OF KEVENGE. 213 
 
 claimed the doctor, impetuously, as he started up with the 
 intention of taking the articles from Mich's hand. "Burn 
 them, Mich ; don't touch them, Anna. Just what I 
 thought," he continued, as he observed that Anna had 
 already received them. 
 
 " Oh, don't burn it 1" she exclaimed, entreatingly. 
 
 " Well, keep them, then, but, Mich, don't you bring 
 anything more here from him, I won't have it. By the 
 way, what was it, Mich, you were going to say. Anna, you 
 run down and see Biddy a little while, I want to talk with 
 Mich." 
 
 " Oh, I know what you want me to go and see Biddy for, 
 so I shan't hear what Mich tells you, and you are going to 
 talk about me, I know you are," said Anna. 
 
 " Get along with you ; your curiosity will be the death 
 of you," replied the doctor, laughing. 
 
 " Now, Mich," he continued, as Anna disappeared " What 
 is the game ? " out with it." 
 
 Mich, then, related to the doctor all that had occurred in 
 his interview with Haun. 
 
 " Did he say that, Mich ?" 
 
 " Upon me word he did, sir. He thinks he'll have her 
 soon, in spite of ye ; so ye'd needs look sharp after him." 
 
 " Oh, if I only had him here this very minute," exclaimed 
 the doctor, through his closed teeth ; " but his time will 
 come," he added: 
 
 " Och! Docthor, ye'll spoil it all if ye let on that I've told 
 ye. Don't be afther doing that."
 
 214 OLD II A UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 "No, no, Mich, I don't mean that; but I can't stand it. 
 He's got some evil design. I must watch him and thwart 
 him. I do believe he means to get possession of her at once, 
 in some way," exclaimed the doctor, in an excited manner. 
 
 " Don't ye b'lave that her uncle sint for her thin at all, 
 Docthor ?" 
 
 " I don't know what to think of Haun or her uncle. I 
 don't care whether he did or not. But I'll find out all 
 about this uncle first, before I yield her to him. He said 
 New Orleans, did he ? You're sure of that ? He may be 
 acquainted with her uncle that's possible! and if so, un- 
 doubtedly expects to make money by delivering her to him. 
 By jove! I believe that's it; and that would account for his 
 knowledge of family matters. Look sharp, Mich, and we'll 
 ferret out the old rat. You shall be well paid for your 
 trouble, Mich." 
 
 " Paid ! indade, sir, it's not for pay that I'd serve a 
 friend." 
 
 " Well, well, Mich, that is right. Now what shall we do ? 
 Let me think. I'll tell you what: just trail him along for 
 a while, till I get something arranged, and we'll catch him 
 on his own hook. Mind that he don't mistrust anything. 
 Let him imagine that Anna is pleased with the idea of see- 
 ing her uncle, and is ready to go with him after a few days. 
 But, Mich, keep your wits about you. Try and find out 
 exactly what course he intends to, or wishes to take, and 
 then let me know. This trickery is poor business, Mich, I 
 own, and I'm ashamed of it: but it can't be avoided.'*
 
 THREATS OF REVENGE. 215 
 
 " No great harm in decavin' him ; but I'll mind and 
 kape out of his way afther he finds out I've been tellin' 
 
 ye." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose you better, for he's a desperate man, and 
 will stop at nothing. But I think we'll foil him this time. 
 Anna mustn't go out of the house alone, until this matter is 
 settled some way. Poor thing, it's a pity to have to shut 
 her up on his account." 
 
 " Indade it is that." 
 
 "Well, good night, Mich; it's time you were home with 
 your mother. Good hours make good men remember that, 
 Mich. Never knew a boy that spent his time in the streets 
 amount to anything." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I'll go now, for she'll be lookin' for me." Mich 
 left the house, and the doctor commenced a march and coun- 
 ter march up and down the room, while he thought over the 
 events of the past day. 
 
 After a while a door opened softly, and Anna's face ap- 
 peared. 
 
 " May I come in now ?" she asked. 
 
 " Why, child, are you up yet ? I thought you were in 
 bed long ago." 
 
 " You told me to go and stay with Biddy. Where is 
 Mich ? Has he gone ?" 
 
 "Mich gone! why, yes, long ago; and it's time you were, 
 too. So come and kiss me, good night." 
 
 Anna did as she was desired, and then retired quietly to
 
 21(5 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 her own room ; and long after her head had sought its pillow 
 she listened to the regular tramp of the doctor, as he paced 
 to and fro in the adjoining room, meditating upon the past, 
 and resolving upon the future.
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 217 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 
 
 HAUN'S letter to Cornell, with the threat conveyed in the 
 same, had a greater and more immediate effect than had 
 been perhaps, even hoped for by the writer. It found Cor- 
 nell, as usual, wholly given up to his own pleasures and 
 amusements, and rioting in dissipation. But it arrested him 
 midway in his giddy routine. A shadow fell upon his spirits. 
 He withdrew for a while from his gay associates, to meditate 
 upon the course to be taken. He stood in fear of Haun, 
 who with his iron nerve and invincible determination, had 
 exercised tacitly, but with certainty that control over him, 
 which a strong will always obtains over a weaker one. 
 While distance separated him, this feeling was subdued, but, 
 with the prospect of meeting Haun again, the repugnance 
 and dread revived. Guilt had made him timid, and instead 
 of being able to meet his coadjutor in his usual brusque and 
 fearless manner, he dreaded the encounter and shrank from 
 it. He did not doubt the truth of Haun's assertion and 
 therefore felt himself in his power. 
 He resolved to answer the letter, and retrieve his error as 
 10
 
 218 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 far as possible, by an offer of prompt amends and a full 
 compliance with the demands of Haun. He hoped by this 
 means to conciliate, and hoped that Haun would still be 
 induced to keep faith with him. True, it was not by any 
 means so easy at that time, as it had been a few months pre- 
 viously to spare the amount required, but now necessity 
 drove, and necessity does not consult men's convenience. 
 
 He wrote offering to accede to Haun's demand, and des- 
 patched the letter, he then began to breathe more freely, and 
 the shadows were lifted from his spirits. But his gratifica- 
 tion on disposing of the matter was brief, for hardly a day 
 had elapsed after mailing his letter, before he received 
 another communication following closely upon the other. 
 Cornell opened it nervously, and read with a sinking 
 heart. 
 
 " NEW YORK, JWM loth, 18 
 " Mr. James Cornell : 
 
 " DEAR SIR : Since sending my last, I have reconsidered the 
 matter, and withdraw my claim upon you, as I find there is another heir 
 to the estate, living, who will establish her legal right, as soon as pos- 
 sible, and I should not wish you to appropriate the property of others 
 to the payment of your own debts. I have been appointed guardian 
 of Anna Hervey, the legal heir, and as such, am ready to receive all 
 monies and property to which by virtue of her heirship she is entitled. 
 You may retain, until I see you, which I hope will be soon, all papers 
 and title deeds relating to the estate. But, on my arrival, you will 
 be prepared to deliver to me all the property in your possession. If 
 you do this peaceably and without delay, I shall not insist upon youi 
 refunding the trifling sum tha*; you may already have used, but if not,
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 219 
 
 then you will oblige me to claim restitution of everything, and also 
 to pursue such other remedy as the law may provide. I shall wait to 
 
 hear from you. 
 
 "Yours, etc., 
 
 "CARLOS HAUN." 
 
 Having finished reading the letter, Cornell laid it down 
 in silence at a loss what course to take he saw it was too 
 late now to retrace his steps he saw disgrace before him. 
 He heard the sneers of his acquaintances the affected sym- 
 pathy of his friends the averted looks and desertion of his 
 dissolute companions, when he could no longer minister to 
 their enjoyments and himself, as a pauper, turned into the 
 street, homeless, friendless, despised, deserted. He looked 
 into the future, and saw himself as in a glass. Life became 
 a burthen. Sleeping or waking, the cadaverous visage 
 elfin locks, and piercing eyes of Haun were before him. He 
 grew morose and dispirited, but finally, with the recklessness 
 of despair, determined to enjoy the present as long as he 
 could, and await the issue. He plunged anew into dissipa- 
 tion, and defied Haun's warnings and his threats. 
 
 In the meantime, Haun in New York, was impatiently 
 awaiting an answer to his last communication. But none 
 came, in this he was disappointed. He had relied with 
 much confidence upon the effect of his letter, and intended 
 to avail himself of every advantage. But the matter had 
 been pushed farther than intended the effect upon Cornell 
 was different from that anticipated. It was Haun's design 
 to frighten Cornell into an immediate payment of the bond,
 
 220 OLD HAUN, 'iHE PAWNBKOKER. 
 
 or perhaps to coerce him into disgorging a large share, and 
 he thought Cornell in his anxiety would have replied at 
 once, offering to compromise on almost any terms. But he 
 did not thoroughly understand Cornell's disposition or tem- 
 per, nor imagine that driven to despair, he had become 
 reckless and indifferent to the result. 
 
 It is uncertain whether Haun had at this time really con- 
 ceived the definite idea of going to New Orleans, and of leav- 
 ing his business unattended to, or whether, although the 
 idea had been flitting through his scheming brain, he had 
 not suddenly seized the determination of carrying out in full, 
 the intentions and threats expressed in his letter to Cornell. 
 Be this as it may, on Mich's making his next visit to his 
 worthy patron, Haun said to him, carelessly, " By the bye, I 
 wonder if that southern mail is in yet. I'm expecting a 
 letter run, Mich, and see if there's one for me. Come ! 
 you must begin to make yourself useful." Although surprised 
 at the request, Mich did not hesitate, but hastened to 
 the post office and returned with a letter. Before delivering 
 it he noted in his memory the post mark it was from New 
 Orleans, and was the same letter written by Cornell in 
 answer to the first of Haun's of May the I5th and which 
 had been by some means delayed until now. Mich deliver- 
 ed the letter to Haun, and closely watched him as he read 
 to himself and commented aloud. "I thought it would 
 bring him to his senses," he continued, " but his offer comes 
 too late wants me to t ike the husk and give him the grain. 
 I've worked too hard for that. Supposing I were really to
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 221 
 
 go down there," he said meditatively, " I will I'll do it, as 
 soon as I can arrange that other matter. I'd go to-morrow 
 if I could. What are you staring at ?" he exclaimed, look- 
 ing up suddenly at Mich, who unconsciously stood with 
 open mouth, in his anxiety to catch every word uttered by 
 Haun, and forgetting, for a moment, the necessity for dis- 
 simulation in the part he was playing. 
 
 " I say, what are you staring at ? Can't I read a love 
 letter without being looked out of countenance ?" 
 
 Mich's fixed and eager expression instantly vanished, 
 and he answered, carelessly : " Perhaps ye're afraid I'll 
 read yer letther from lookiu' at the outside ; I've niver 
 learned that yet." 
 
 "Well, then, don't stand there gaping at me ; but -it's 
 about time for you to begin to do something, as you agreed; 
 now, you'd better be lively, or you won't earn that money. 
 When are you going to bring that girl to me, eh ?" 
 
 Mich stood for a moment undecided, and then answered : 
 
 " An' what if she'd not go wid any one but the Docthor 
 himself?" 
 
 " Does she go to walk with him ?" 
 
 " To be sure she does." 
 
 " When do they go ?" 
 
 " As often as iver they can ; the Docthor says the poor 
 crathur must have a taste of the fresh air now and thin." 
 
 " He does, eh ? quite right, no doubt, ' 
 
 " Now, wid yer lave," said Mich, " I'l go, and maybe I'll 
 find out something that'll plase ye."
 
 222 OLD HA. TIN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Well, see that you do, or our reckoning '11 be a short 
 one," Haun replied. 
 
 Mich did not stop to hear anything farther, but went 
 directly to the office of Doctor Foster, and communicated 
 to him all that occurred at his last interview. The Doctor 
 was now really alarmed for the safety of his adopted child. 
 From what he had learned of the receipt of the letter by 
 Haun, its source, and the latter's expressions in reading it, 
 he felt sure that the crisis was approaching. It seemed to 
 him, that there must be some great incentive operating 
 upon her uncle, besides the mere influence of affection, to 
 induce him so ardently to seek possession of the person of 
 his niece. 
 
 After a moment's reflection, the doctor said : " Well, 
 Mich, something must be done at once. It's now time to 
 act. I must get advice about this. I'm sorry you told him 
 about our going out to walk, as he might lie in wait for us; 
 but, pshaw I he'd never dare to attempt taking her away 
 from me by force. But I can't stop to talk now, Mich. I'll 
 go and see Pierce ; he's an old friend and a pretty shrewd 
 lawyer too ; he'll understand at once, what's best to be 
 done." So saying, the doctor left and went directly to con- 
 sult with Mr. Pierce, an attorney, with whom he had long 
 been on terms of intimacy, and who, in those days, took a 
 rank among the first lawyers of the city. Mr. Pierce re- 
 ceived him very cordially, and listened with marked atten- 
 tion to the doctor's relation of the particulars of the affair, 
 and on his concluding, remarked, interrogatively:
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEAEANCE. 223 
 
 " You fear, then, doctor, that the child will be taken 
 from you ?" 
 
 " The old villain says he is going to get her, any way." 
 
 " Who is this boy, Mich ? perhaps he deceives you instead 
 of the other party." 
 
 " No, Mich is reliable." 
 
 " How do you know that this uncle is living hi New 
 Orleans ?" 
 
 " I have no positive knowledge any further than I have 
 mentioned. I might write to him and by that means learn 
 something further. Had I better ?" 
 
 " No, that might spoil all. I believe, from what you say, 
 that there is something mysterious in the matter; it may be 
 all right, and it may be not. If you wish it, I will find out 
 what it means." 
 
 Well, Pierce, go on and rid me of this Haun's interfer- 
 ence. Sift the matter thoroughly. If you could manage 
 to get Haun in the States' Prison, so much the better. Now, 
 what have I to do ?" 
 
 " Nothing at all, only to keep quiet, and watch carefully 
 the child, so as to ward off any attempt he might make 
 to get her, while I write to a lawyer in New Orleans. Now, 
 give me the names of all the parties," said Mr. Pierce, 
 taking pen and paper. 
 
 " Well, whose first ?" 
 
 " Begin with the uncle." 
 
 " His name was William Leonard." 
 
 " What occupation ?"
 
 224: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBKOKEB. 
 
 " He was a captain of a vessel, and sailed from the port 
 of Boston the last time anything was heard of him." 
 
 " Good, so far. I will write and have inquiries made for 
 a person bearing the name of William Leonard, formerly a 
 sea-faring man, and request an answer at once, and also 
 desire the agent, whom I shall employ for the purpose, to 
 proceed cautiously and expeditiously." 
 
 " But shall I leave Haun unmolested ? Hadn't I better 
 have the old villain arrested ?" 
 
 " For what offence ? He ought, without doubt, to be 
 indicted upon general principles, but our law is unfortu- 
 nately so defective, that it will not arrest except upon 
 some well-grounded charge." 
 
 " But I am afraid he will try to steal her. I cannot wait 
 until you hear from New Orleans. I'd like to take the law 
 into my own hands; I'd give him what he's never had yet 
 justice." 
 
 " Don't be impatient, doctor ; I can't believe there's any 
 such great urgency in the case. For this Haun is altogether 
 too cunning to overdrive the matter, or to let you catch him 
 in his tricks. He has done nothing, that I am aware of, 
 to bring him within reach of the law ; and, of course, you 
 will be on your guard to check any unlawful attempt on his 
 part," answered the attorney. 
 
 " Well, then, I'll go home ; but I shall not be able to 
 
 rest so long as he remains at liberty," the doctor re- 
 plied. 
 
 " By the way, doctor, before you leave, the names of the
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 225 
 
 other parties, I might as well write them down now, while 
 we are on the subject," said Mr. Pierce, detaining him. 
 
 The doctor stopped to give the names, and then pro- 
 ceeded at a brisk pace home, determined that Anna should 
 not, for another day, be left exposed to the risk of suffering 
 from Haun's machinations. He would take her into the 
 country, and leave her with a friend, until the matter was in 
 some way definitely disposed of, so that they might all of 
 them be relieved from the dread of some impending evil, but 
 what, they knew not. It would do her good. It would 
 bring the roses back to her pale cheeks to run about in the 
 green fields, and breathe the pure air of the country. So 
 reasoned the doctor, and decided in his own mind that she 
 should go at once. She should start to-morrow, and nobody 
 but himself should know her destination. With his thoughts 
 intent upon this subject, he entered his house and went 
 directly to the sitting-room. There was no one there. He 
 passed through to the adjoining room and called, but re- 
 ceived no answer. He decended into the kitchen, it was 
 vacant. He called again, but in vain, all was silent. The 
 outer doors were closed, and he thought, possibly, Anna 
 might have retired for the night. He opened the door of 
 her sleeping-room, and said : 
 
 " Anna gone to bed ? asleep already ?" He approached 
 the bed, listening for her breathing, but no sound met his 
 ear, all was hushed. His heart sank, he caught a lamp 
 from the mantel and returned to Anna's room the bed was 
 unruffled. There was no one there a cold sweat started out 
 
 10*
 
 226 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBBOKEB. 
 
 on his forehead as he cast his eyes around, and exclaimed : 
 " Where have they gone ? this is strange, nine o'clock and 
 they out, what can it mean? Biddy knows better, and 
 besides, I told her not to be out with Anna. I'll fix her 
 but they must be along soon." The doctor sat down for a 
 few minutes, and then got up, and shading his eyes with his 
 hand, tried to pierce the darkness beyond, as he gazed out 
 of the window. He turned away, and sat down again with 
 his eyes fixed upon the clock, that ticked unconsciously upon 
 the mantel. The hand was moving on towards the hour of 
 ten. He rose again and went to the door and looked up 
 and down the street, and then seizing his hat exclaimed : 
 
 "There's something happened to them or they'd never 
 stay out till this hour. I'll see Mich, perhaps he'll know," 
 and so saying, he hurried into the street. The distance to 
 the abode of Mich was considerable, but it seemed now to 
 the doctor in his impatience almost interminable. And even 
 after reaching the house, it was some time before he succeed- 
 ed in arousing any one for Mich was just dreaming his first 
 dream. But what was his astonishment and alarm on learn- 
 ing who was the visitor, and what had brought him there at 
 that hour and at hearing the doctor's hurried question. 
 " Mich, have you seen Anna and Biddy ?" 
 
 " Seen thim 1 are they gone ?" 
 
 " I can't find them, they're not at home." 
 
 " He's done it thin, the ould Satan's done it and ye'll 
 niver see her again och hone, why didn't I watch him ?" 
 
 " Dress yourself, Mich and follow me," said the doctor.
 
 MYSTERIOUS D I S A P P E A K A N E . 
 
 Mich was soon ready and inquired, " what'll I do ?" 
 
 " Come with me." 
 
 Mich followed in silence the long and rapid strides of the 
 doctor, as he harried away to the police station for the pur- 
 pose of giving a description of the missing persons, and of 
 directing an immediate search. He offered a large reward 
 to the one that should discover them that night. The 
 police were immediately on the alert, and those who happen- 
 ed then to be there, dispersed at once in different directions 
 on their search, returning now and then to confer with each 
 other, or to obtain further information, or directions. The 
 night wore on, and still nothing could be learned. The 
 doctor remained as long as there was a possibility of obtain- 
 ing a knowledge of them, and then unwillingly and sadly 
 took his way home. He entered, and the noise of the closing 
 door echoed through the now deserted house, and sent a 
 pang to his heart. The solitary light still flickered as he 
 had left it none had entered since. He sank into a chair 
 and buried his face in his hands. The bright gleam of sun- 
 shine that had for a brief time lifted the shadows from his 
 solitary life, had faded, and it was again darkened. The 
 night wore on, and still he sat the clicking of the clock 
 alone disturbing the monotonous stillness that reigned 
 within while without, some unusual noise would cause 
 the watcher to start up and listen intently as if expect- 
 ing, or at least hoping, that some tidings might still be 
 brought him but in vain. The morning dawned, and then, 
 the doctor rose, and throwing himself upon his bed, exhaust-
 
 228 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 ed nature could no longer resist, and he sank into a disturb- 
 ed and fitful slumber. The morning was well advanced be- 
 fore he awoke, so worn out was he with the mental struggle. 
 Starting up, the occurrences of the past few hours came 
 back to his mind. Without stopping for refreshment, he seized 
 his hat, and with rapid steps resought the office of his inti- 
 mate friend, the attorney, whom he fortunately found disen- 
 gaged. The latter saw at once from the haggard and care- 
 worn look of his client, that something unusual had occurred. 
 He therefore advanced at once to meet the doctor as he 
 entered, and taking him by the hand said : 
 
 " Well, doctor, I hope nothing unpleasant has occurred 
 to oblige you to seek my services this morning ?" 
 
 " Yes, what I feared, and ought to have guarded 
 against, has happened the child is gone," the doctor 
 answered, with choked utterance. 
 
 " You can't mean that that fellow, what's his name, has 
 dared to to " 
 
 " Steal her, there's no doubt of it." 
 
 " When did you miss her ?" 
 
 " Last evening when I went home, both she and my ser- 
 vant were away. I was not particularly alarmed until it 
 grew late in the evening, and then I began to fear. I gave 
 notice at the station-house, but the police have found out 
 nothing as yet." 
 
 " Have you no clue ? nothing to show where or when they 
 left ?" 
 
 " Nothing at all. I know nothing more than I have
 
 MY8TEEIOU8 DISAPPEARANCE. 229 
 
 already related. Suspecting that villain Haun, I had the 
 police watch his shop last night. The shop was closed and 
 he was not there, neither has he returned to it since then, 
 but I am sure he has not yet left the city." 
 
 " Strange I" ejaculated the attorney. 
 
 " And now," continued the doctor, " if there is any law 
 that can help me in this emergency, let me know it, for I 
 shall not rest till I have found the child." 
 
 " I think you said you had been legally appointed guar- 
 dian, did you not, doctor ?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "And she has lived in your family, and you have supplied 
 her with clothing, is not that so ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes," the doctor answered, impatiently. 
 
 " How old is she ?" 
 
 " As nearly as I can recollect ten years old." 
 
 " My advice to you then is this of course, the first and 
 most important thing, is to get possession of the child to 
 accomplish this, we must make application and obtain a writ 
 of habeas corpus, and put it into the hands of the sheriff to 
 serve, which will if he can find her, give you at any rate the 
 temporary custody of her. In the second place as we want 
 to punish this man, Haun and proceeding upon the sup- 
 position that he has taken her, I should advise you, under 
 the present state of our law, to go before a magistrate and 
 make affidavit of the larceny of the clothes which the child 
 had on when she was taken, and which were and are your 
 property, by this means we will obtain a warrant against
 
 230 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 his body at once, and then if we can only get hold of him 
 we'll take further steps for his punishment. Rely upon my 
 assistance, doctor, until the whole matter is disposed of. It 
 is near twelve o'clock already. It'll take us a couple of 
 hours, perhaps, to get the writ and put it in the hands of the 
 officer for service. By the by, doctor, supposing the fellow 
 has really kidnapped the child, where do you imagine he 
 would take her to ? I think you mentioned the other 
 day." 
 
 " To New Orleans I have reason to believe." 
 
 But, supposing him to have an object in getting possession 
 of the child, why should he want the servant ? you said she 
 had disappeared also." 
 
 " Yes ! she?s not to be found, but I can't imagine what 
 he could want of her." 
 
 " It's possible after all, doctor, that " 
 
 " That what ?" 
 
 " You haven't been at your house since you left it this 
 morning, have you ?" . 
 
 " No, but I am satisfied that she's been detained by force, 
 or she would have been home last evening." 
 
 " Has the servant no friends or relations in the city that 
 she's in the habit of visiting, and with whom she might have 
 stayed over night ?" 
 
 " Not that I know of." 
 
 " "Well, then, doctor, I would suggest as a mere measure 
 of precaution, that while I am preparing the necessary 
 papers, you step down to the office and inquire when a boat
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 231 
 
 will leave for the South, and it might be well on your return 
 to call again at your house and find whether anything new 
 has turned up during the morning, then come back and I'll 
 be at your service." 
 
 " Right ! I'll do it," said the doctor, leaving. He went 
 to the office for the purpose of learning the hour of departure 
 of the boat, and found there would be one on that very 
 evening. He then returned, calling at his own house on the 
 way as he approached some person seemed to him to be 
 sitting on the step. He looked again could he be mistaken 
 he came nearer it was Biddy who sat leaning her head 
 upon her hand, unconscious of the approach of any one till 
 the doctor addressed her. 
 
 " Biddy is that you ? where is Anna ?" 
 
 " Och 1 docthor, I'm kilt intirely," she exclaimed, start- 
 ing up, " me head's split open, and ivery bone in me body's 
 broken. Och, docthor, I'm afraid he's got her, but its not 
 me fault, docthor." 
 
 " Who and where, speak quick ?" the doctor exclaimed, 
 seizing her by the arm. 
 
 " The ould one that came to see her when ye were so 
 angry about it. He met us in the strate, and knocked me 
 down and sazed her, and I don't know anything more afther 
 that," Bridget answered, sobbing. 
 
 "What I was afraid of, and where have you been all of 
 this time ?" 
 
 "It's hard tillin', sir. I was taken up clean out o' me 
 sinses till this mornin', wid this blow on the side o' my head,
 
 232 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 and I'm jist able to get home ; och ! but I'm afraid the dear 
 child's gone intirely but it's not me fault, docthor." 
 
 " Well 1 I'll help you into the house, and then I must go, 
 we'll have him yet," said the doctor, as he assisted Biddy 
 into the house, and made a slight examination of her wounds, 
 which he found not to be of a dangerous character. Having 
 done this, he departed for the office of the attorney. He 
 found him temporarily absent, but as he was momentarily 
 expected, the doctor paced uneasily up and down the room, 
 until his arrival Mr. Pierce entered, saying, " Well, doctor, 
 any tidings ?" 
 
 " No, except that my suspicions are confirmed. She is 
 in the hands of that infernal villain. On going to my house, 
 I found my servant sitting on the steps, and somewhat 
 seriously injured by a blow on the head. From her I learn 
 that as she was out walking in the city last evening with 
 Anna, she was knocked down so suddenly that she was 
 unable to observe from whom the blow came, and was left 
 insensible. She was picked up and taken care of by some 
 one till this morning, when she was partially restored, suffi- 
 ciently to walk home. She can give no farther particu- 
 lars." 
 
 " It is so then ; but the day of reckoning will come. Now 
 I have everything in readiness. The sheriff himself '11 be 
 ready to go in a short tune. He wanted to send one of his 
 deputies, but I declined his aid at once there must be no 
 bungling of this matter. Now you go and take some refresh- 
 ments, and on your return we will be ready."
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 233 
 
 " No, I need nothing, I can't eat until she's found." 
 
 " But you absolutely must, doctor ; you look as haggard 
 as if you had been engaged in this affair a week instead of a 
 day. and as it may so happen that we shall require all the 
 strength that we can muster, I need not advise you of the 
 necessity of fortifying the body with proper nourishment." 
 
 " Well, I will go, since I can do nothing further here 
 for the present." 
 
 He was absent about a half an hour, and then returning 
 met the attorney, and going together to the sheriff's office, 
 found that functionary armed with the necessary legal 
 authority to reclaim the child, and to arrest Haun, and im- 
 patiently awaiting their arrival. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," he remarked, as they entered, " we 
 must proceed in this matter cautiously and expeditiously. I 
 understand from you that he has not yet probably left the 
 city. Has he a dwelling house here ?" 
 
 " None other than his place of business or shop on 
 Chatham street," the attorney replied. 
 
 " Has that been searched ?" 
 
 " No, we had no authority to break the doors which are 
 
 barred and locked, but I understand from my friend the 
 
 doctor here that the premises have been closely watched, 
 
 so that it is certain there has been neither ingress or 
 
 , gress." 
 
 " Would he probably remain there concealed ?" 
 
 " I think not, he's too cunning for that." 
 
 " Very likely I still it would be unwise to leave it un-
 
 234: OLD HATTN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 searched. So we'll go there first and demand admittance, 
 and if necessary force an entrance." 
 
 " Well, let us go then at once," said the doctor, who had 
 been uneasily waiting for the termination of the conference. 
 
 " Come on, then," the sheriff replied. 
 
 They then went directly to Haun's shop, which was at no 
 great distance off, and found it carefully closed. They 
 called out for admittance but received no answer. The 
 sheriff then ordered the door to be forced. This was a work 
 of some difficulty, for it was strongly barred and bolted, but 
 on the application of their united strength, the fastenings 
 gave way and an entrance was affected. The shop was 
 vacant. Vigilant search was made throughout the premises, 
 but neither man nor child was found. Everything else wore 
 its accustomed appearance. Goods of every description 
 were scattered promiscuously about, but, upon close examina- 
 tion, it was found that books, memorandums, bills, and 
 money, and other smaller articles of intrinsic value, had been 
 removed as soon as this was found to be the case, the doc- 
 tor exclaimed : 
 
 " He's off, and we must follow at once or be too late." 
 
 " Where does the boat lie ?" inquired the sheriff. 
 
 " I don't exactly know the street, but we'll follow the 
 dock around, and easily find it." 
 
 " Keep up good heart, then, doctor, we'll find her if she's 
 in the city." 
 
 Away they went, passing vessel after vessel, in their round, 
 but unwilling to make inquiries for fear of exciting suspi-
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 235 
 
 cion, and not knowing who might be in- the interest of the 
 fugitive or who might be placed as a spy to warn 'him of 
 approaching danger. As they were hurrying on, scrutiniz- 
 ing closely each craft that loomed up through the darkness, 
 the doctor felt a tug at his coat turning quickly, he could 
 just recognize the form of Mich, who stood panting for 
 breath. He pointed with his finger to a boat that lay a 
 ehort distance from them, and articulated with difficulty. 
 
 " They're there." 
 
 " Nonsense, boy, that can't be that an't the southern 
 boat," said the officer. 
 
 " I've seen them wid me own eyes," said Mich, earnestly, 
 " they're there." 
 
 " Come along, then, and show us," said the doctor. 
 
 They at once proceeded to the boat indicated by Mich, 
 and were about to rush on board when one of the boat's 
 crew, whom they had not before perceived, approached, and 
 standing before them so as to obstruct their farther progress, 
 said gruffly: 
 
 " What do you want here ? be off," at the same time lay- 
 ing his hand upon the doctor's shoulder, and pushing him 
 back. 
 
 " Hands off you rascal," exclaimed the doctor, as he 
 shoved the man vigorously aside, and rushed past him. The 
 man was about to return the favor with a blow, when the 
 sheriff said quickly : 
 
 " Hold, there, my friend, not too fast, I'm the sheriff." 
 The man's hand dropped and he asked :
 
 236 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Well, what do you want then ?" 
 
 " There's a man and child secreted here, and we have 
 come to search for them they must be delivered up." 
 
 " I knows nothing about any one but the boat's crew, and 
 they're below." 
 
 " Then show us the way." 
 
 "D n my eyes if I do ; I takes my orders from the 
 mate." 
 
 " Come on, then, doctor, we'll find them first and settle 
 with this gentleman afterwards," remarked the sheriff, going 
 towards the hatchway. But the sound of voices had called 
 up the mate, who, discerning the forms of the three intruders, 
 demanded : 
 
 " What's in the wind, Ben ?" 
 
 " Why, here's some one as says we've stowed away a man 
 and a child in the hold and he wants 'em." 
 
 " You're boarding the wrong craft there an't no such 
 freight aboard." 
 
 " Very likely, but they may be here without your know- 
 ing it." 
 
 " Who is it then ?" 
 
 " We're looking for an old man and a child, and they 
 were seen to come on to this boat," the sheriff answered, 
 " and we want to look for them." 
 
 " Ben, I'll take your watch while you go with them and 
 let them look." 
 
 "I say they an't here I haven't left since my watch 
 began, and they couldn't have passed me."
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 237 
 
 "Well ! we'll look for ourselves," the sheriff answered, 
 as they commenced decending into the lower part of the 
 vessel and Mich advanced with the intention of following 
 and assisting in the search, when his arm was rudely seized 
 by the man called Ben. " .You an't the sheriff, any way, so 
 avast there." 
 
 "Let him alone," exclaimed the doctor, authoritatively, 
 turning as he heard the remark, " he saw them come on 
 board, and we'll soon have them if they're here. Come on, 
 Mich." Descending, they at once commenced their search, 
 examining thoroughly every corner of the vessel from stem 
 to stern. Looking under berths, beds, lounges, tables, and 
 every other thing that* could by any possibility afford con- 
 cealment to a living thing turning over old rubbish, boat 
 stores, piles of rope, heaps of canvas, searching through 
 cabin, hold, and store-room, but in vain, nothing was found, 
 and they turned sorrowfully away from their task, and sat 
 down for a moment to wipe the perspiration from their 
 foreheads, and consult as to the next step to be taken. 
 
 The man, Ben, had officiously assisted them in their search, 
 notwithstanding his first opposition, and apparent incredulity, 
 and had remained close to them, endeavoring as far as pos- 
 sible without exciting suspicion, to direct their course. 
 
 He remarked as they seated themselves, while a look of 
 malicious gratification flashed over his features : 
 
 " Mabee you'll believe what I tells you another time." 
 
 " No I shan't, any more than I believe you now," exclaim- 
 ed the doctor
 
 238 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Then why don't you pipe all hands to duty again ?" said 
 he. 
 
 The doctor observed the peculiar expression of the man's 
 face, and was satisfied in his own mind that the fellow knew 
 more than he would wish to disclose he communicated his 
 suspicions to the sheriff, and the latter again addressed 
 Mich, saying : 
 
 " Boy, are you sure you saw him come on board of this 
 boat r 
 
 " Indade, an' I am sure of it ; it's out of that old cellar 
 on the dock that I saw him come about dusk this very eve- 
 ning, and I wint to find the docthor, but he had gone, and 
 thin I came back here again as fast as iver I could, and here 
 by good luck I found ye." 
 
 " He may have left since then," the sheriff remarked. 
 
 " Don't ye belave it he's here yet. I saw this very man 
 spakin' wid the dirthy ould villain," added Mich, as he point- 
 ed to Ben. 
 
 " It's a, lie !" Ben yelled out, as he made a blow with his 
 open hand at the head of Mich, but the latter avoided the 
 stroke by stepping nimbly back, as he answered : 
 
 " It's the truth the blissed truth and ye know it, too." 
 
 " You're right, Mich ; they're here, and I'm going to find 
 them. Come along bring that light." 
 
 " You'll stay there," said the sheriff to Ben, as he ad- 
 vanced again, with the intention of accompanying them 
 " not a step nearer." 
 
 Ben stood doggedly looking after them, but made no reply.
 
 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. 239 
 
 " Doctor, I don't believe there's any use in looking again ; 
 ye've searched every spot where a mouse could hide ; but 
 so long as you remain, I'm with you," the sheriff remarked. 
 
 They commenced again their search, and as they passed 
 into the different parts of the vessel, the doctor called out 
 the name of Anna, and listened for an answer, but in vain. 
 They began to despair. They had gone through most of the 
 vessel, and were preparing to abandon the search, and leave 
 the boat, when the doctor, as a last experiment, again called 
 out loudly Anna's name, A stifled cry seemed to reach his 
 ear. He shouted again, and listened, but all was still. He 
 shouted once more, and again the same subdued sound was 
 heard. It seemed to proceed from the store-room, the door 
 of which was now closed. " She's there," said Mich, as he 
 rushed to the door, but found it locked. The others pressed 
 forward simultaneously, and tried to open it, but in vain. 
 Without another word, the doctor drew back and threw his 
 muscular frame with great force against the door : the fasten- 
 ings gave way, and the door crashed to the floor. As it 
 fell, a form darted past them from within, and the wiry locks 
 of Haun streamed behind him as he bounded past them 
 towards the gangway. The sheriff sprang after him as he 
 mounted the stairs, crying, " Catch him ! Stop him 1 There 
 he goes 1" several of the crew joining in the chase and the 
 cry ; but the fugitive had got too much the start before they 
 recovered from their surprise, and as his pursuers reached 
 the top of the hatches, they saw him leap from the boat on to 
 the dock, and he was immediately lost in the darkness, so
 
 240 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 that further pursuit was impossible. On the opening of the 
 door of the store-room, the doctor had immediately entered, 
 calling : 
 
 " Anna, Anna are you here ?" 
 
 He heard a low sob, but the darkness prevented his dis- 
 cerning any object, as the light had been extinguished in the 
 excitement of the chase. He called again, and groped about, 
 directed by the sound, till his hand rested upon a pile of 
 canvas, in one corner. He felt it sway under his touch, and 
 quickly tearing away the remnant of an old sail that con- 
 cealed her, clasped Anna in his arms. He shouted for a 
 light, and the sheriff came running in, exclaiming, " Have 
 you found her ? Is the girl here ?" 
 
 " Yes ! A light, quick ! Have you caught him ?" 
 
 " No, he has escaped us this time." 
 
 "There, my poor Anna, can't you speak?" asked the 
 doctor, noticing her silence. On passing his hand over her 
 face, he found that she had been gagged by having a pocket- 
 handkerchief tightly tied over her mouth. Her hands were 
 also bound. The light appeared, and the doctor taking his 
 knife, quickly severed the fastenings, while he again hugged 
 her slender form tightly to himself. 
 
 " Poor thing, poor thing ; are you hurt, child ?" 
 
 Anna could not answer, but putting her arm around his 
 neck, wept convulsively. k 
 
 Mich now for the first time approached, and taking one of 
 her hands gently in his own, whispered, with quivering lip: 
 " Anna, darlint, don't cry, ye're safe now."
 
 MY 8TEKIOU8 DI8 APPEAEANCE. 24:1 
 
 " Oh, Mioh !" said Anna, still sobbing. 
 
 " Thank God you're safe," exclaimed the doctor, after he 
 nad sufficiently controlled his emotions to be able to articu- 
 late. " How did it happen ?" 
 
 " Oh, Biddy ! Biddy," she exclaimed, starting up. 
 
 " Be quiet, she is safe at home," the doctor said. 
 
 " They knocked her down, and I thought she was killed, 
 and then they brought me. here." 
 
 " Where were you ?" the doctor asked. 
 
 " We were almost at your office." 
 
 " Where were you going ?" 
 
 " Didn't you send for us ?" Anna inquired, in amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " Send for you ? no ! that villain 1 it's his work. Couldn't 
 you see which way he went ?" 
 
 " No," the sheriff answered, " but here is something he 
 has left. His coat we'll take possession of it. He won't 
 show his face here again, very soon." 
 
 " Shall we go now ?" inquired the doctor. 
 
 " Yes, as soon as I can get my hands on that fellow, Ben 
 he seems to have had as much to do with the matter as 
 any one, I think I ought to have him arrested also." 
 
 " Never mind him, we've got the child and, perhaps, he 
 may have been imposed upon, let us rather exert all our 
 energies to catching the other one," the doctor answered. 
 
 " Well, let's be going then, it's not far from morning." 
 As they neared the doctor's house, the sheriff remarked : 
 " You don't want me any longer ? I suppose." 
 
 11
 
 24r2 OLD HATTN, THE PAWNBKOKEE. 
 
 " No, not to-night," was the reply, "but don't rest till 
 you have huuted up that villain. Mich, hadn't you better 
 go and stay with me, the rest of the night ?" 
 
 " No, docthor, thank ye, I must go home now, me mother 
 might be wantin' me or feel concarned for me." 
 
 " Well, well all right, God bless you, boy. But come 
 early in the morning, I want to see you." 
 
 " Good bye, Anna, don't be throubled about it any more, 
 will ye ?" said Mich, as he turned towards home. 
 
 They soon reached the house, and saw by the light that 
 still dimly burned, that Biddy was keeping watch for them 
 they had hardly reached the door before it was opened, 
 and Biddy rushed forward with a cry of delight, to meet 
 them. She seized Anna from the doctor's arms, and covered 
 her face with kisses alternately weeping and laughing, and 
 calling upon all the saints to bless her and invoking impre- 
 cations upon Haun, till the doctor interfered, and to give 
 time for her transports of joy to moderate, desired her to 
 prepare the bed for Anna, which was done, and the rescued 
 child was soon asleep.
 
 ARREST AND BRIBERY. 24:3 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE ARREST AND BRIBERY. 
 
 BY the time the sheriff had concluded his examination of 
 the pawnbroker's shop, as mentioned in the last chapter, quite 
 a crowd, attracted by curiosity, had gathered about the door, 
 and were eagerly watching the proceedings, and impatiently 
 awaiting the issue, although ignorant of the object of the 
 search for the place was notorious not only in the imme- 
 diate neighborhood but throughout the city, while the 
 proprietor had acquired, as is already known, a reputation 
 for dishonesty and double dealing, which was not by any 
 means enviable, and which did not cause his society to be 
 courted by upright men. 
 
 The sheriff, therefore, on concluding his reconnoissance of 
 the apartment, pulled the door together after him on leaving, 
 without taking the precaution to refasten it but clasping 
 the doctor's arm within his own, made his way through the 
 crowd with all haste, towards the dock. 
 
 " I say, sheriff, what's the old devil been up to ?" called 
 out some one from the crowd, as the sheriff passed.
 
 244 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Kidnapping a child," he answered, as he hurried on 
 for it was getting towards twilight and time was precious. 
 As the officer disappeared, some on the outer verge of the 
 crowd began to walk quietly away, while others remained con- 
 versing in a low tone among themselves, for, from some source 
 they had learned the full particulars of the pawnbroker's 
 offence, and as they commented on it, the whole mass, from 
 some unaccountable impulse, swayed against the door, which 
 readily gave way, precipitating those nearest into the shop, 
 and overturning and crashing tables covered with wares 
 that happened to stand near. In an instant all was excite- 
 ment and confusion. Those who had fallen upon the floor 
 recovered themselves, while others pressed into the room 
 after them while those without raised the cry of " where's 
 the kidnapper ? down with his house." The cry was taken 
 up by those inside, and " down with his house," shouted the 
 foremost one, as he swept a shelf with his club, sending the 
 articles upon it jingling and crashing to the floor. " Down 
 with the house," others exclaimed, as they tore up counters 
 and broke down stalls and partitions, "root him out," 
 shouted one after another, as they seized the bundles 
 embalmed in the dust of years, and hurled them into the 
 street. The work of destruction went madly on till there 
 was nothing left to destroy. That which had been the 
 pawnbroker's shop, was completely sacked and demolished, 
 and but little more than the bare walls remained. Not one 
 of those outside attempted to interfere, but looked silently 
 on as the work progressed while the windows of the neigh-
 
 ARREST AND BRIBERY. 
 
 boring houses were filled with anxious spectators, who, 
 through the dim twilight could barely discern the outline of 
 the crowd, but who could hear, with fearful distinctness, the 
 shouts of the rioters, and the crash of distraction, as the 
 work went on. 
 
 A cry was raised that the police were coming, and in a 
 moment the shop was cleared, and those who had been so 
 actively engaged, mixed with the spectators and disappeared. 
 The police remained to prevent further violence, and the peo- 
 ple quietly dispersed. No arrests were made at the time, 
 nor did any investigation follow. The act seemed to have 
 been considered a public benefit, which, although the law 
 could not openly countenance, yet at which it might privately 
 wink, 
 
 Hauu, on the day after his interview with Mich, concluded 
 to bring matters at once to a crisis, particularly as he began 
 to feel impatient of delay, and was anxious and determined 
 to secure the prize which in any event was awaiting him at 
 New Orleans. Therefore, quickly conceiving his plans, he 
 proposed to carry them as quickly into execution. Starting 
 off on a moderate walk, with his hands thrust into his pock- 
 ets, and his head bent down as if in deep study, he took 
 rather a devious course till he reached Pearl street, along 
 which he proceeded some distance, until coming to a low, 
 brick building of time-worn and dingy exterior, he boldly 
 entered, and passing through a corridor, he came to a door 
 which fronted him, at the farther end. He approached it
 
 2iG OLD HA. UN, THE PAWNBKOKEK 
 
 cautiously, and stopping, bent down for a moment with his 
 ear to the key-hole: seeming to be satisfied with the apparent 
 security, he rapped, and immediately, without waiting for the 
 door to be opened, he entered. 
 
 The single window which admitted the dim light over the 
 towering walls of the adjoining buildings, gave to the room 
 an uncomfortable and dismal look. 
 
 After standing a moment, in order that his eyes might 
 gradually accustom themselves to the twilight that seemed to 
 pervade the apartment, he looked around and discovered its 
 only occupant, who sat upon a rude bench, and was industri- 
 ously stitching a garment. He seemed to have already seen 
 some threescore years, and his head was frosted with age. 
 He looked up as Haun entered, but without speaking, until 
 familiarly addressed by him : 
 
 " Well, old man, hard at it, as usual, eh ?" 
 
 "Yes, it's always work, work, work, with me, and the 
 more work the less pay." He answered in a querulous tone, 
 still continuing his labor. 
 
 " Then I suppose you'd like a job from me, that may be'll 
 pay you well." 
 
 " If its honest labor, the Lord hi heaven knows I'd be glad 
 enough to do it, but if its the devil's work, I won't," said the 
 old man earnestly, as he laid aside the garment on which he 
 had been at work. 
 
 " Won't ! that's a bold word to use." 
 
 " Perhaps it was once, but I've got beyond fear. These
 
 ARKEST AND BRIBERY. 247 
 
 withered hands have earned my bread honestly for years 
 past, and with God's help they shall do so still." 
 
 " Of course ; but you needn't be afraid of my wanting 
 anything bad of you its only a little errand I want you to 
 go on for me." 
 
 " It does seem to me that you might be able to find many 
 younger and stronger limbs than mine to run of errands. I 
 mistrust you still." 
 
 " Don't be too suspicious." 
 
 " Tell me, then, at once, and plainly, what it is you want. 
 I will not be tempted." 
 
 " Listen, then. A friend of mine, down South, has a 
 little daughter, about nine years of age, in this city, living 
 down on Greenwich street there, with a man called Foster. 
 He's a doctor. My friend left her only for a few weeks, in- 
 tending to come and take her away, but was taken sick and 
 couldn't come for a long tune, and finally sent for her ; but 
 this doctor has become attached to her, as he pretends, and 
 won't let her go ; and because I am anxious to help my 
 friend, he refuses to let me see the child, or go to his house. 
 Now I'm going to take the child away from him, and re- 
 store her to her father, who is pining for her. I want 
 you therefore to go this evening and tell the child (her name's 
 Anna Hervey) that the doctor wants to see her at his 
 office ; then I will meet you somewhere and arrange the 
 rest." 
 
 " It looks fair enough, and may be all right ; but I tell
 
 248 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 you again I mistrust you, and I will sooner rot in idleness, 
 than undertake anything that may lead to crime." 
 
 " Look you, sir, I'm not in the habit of begging, and I'll 
 tell you something that may warm your old blood. Did 
 you ever hear the story of an old man with a grey head like 
 yours, who went to a certain humble person and borrowed 
 a small amount of money, and gave, as security, a note 
 endorsed by a certain wealthy citizen ; and did you ever hear 
 how, when this note was shown to this certain wealthy citi- 
 zen, he pronounced his signature a forgery, and then how the 
 maker of the note came and returned the money, with a 
 large interest, so that he might escape the prison ; and how 
 the note couldn't, just at that moment, be found, and never 
 was seen by the maker from that time to this this very 
 minute. And die 1 you ever hear that that forged note 
 looked just like the piece of paper that I've got here ? Ah ! 
 1 see you've heard the story before," said Haun, ironically, as 
 he held aloft in his hand, a small strip of paper, on which the 
 eyes of the old man had been fixed with piercing earnest- 
 ness, during the remarks of Haun. The latter observed his 
 manner, as he refolded the paper, and put it in his pocket, 
 and remarked : 
 
 " Now, you'd like to have this little strip of paper in your 
 possession ; I know you would, but you are not willing to 
 help a friend, and so " 
 
 " I will, I will, give me the paper," said the old man, 
 with the energy of despair, and then immediately sank his
 
 AKKE8T AND BKIBEKY. 249 
 
 head upon his hand ; but again starting up, he added : 
 " Yes, I have heard the story before, and I remember it 
 well, and since then I've tried to live honestly before God 
 and man, and trusted that this, my first crime, was forgot- 
 ten ; but you will not let me ; you haunt me like an evil 
 spirit, and tempt me to sin. Give me that paper, and I'll 
 do what you ask ; but if there's crime in it, on your own 
 head be it." 
 
 " Certainly, you are mistaken, old man ; I don't want to 
 persecute you ; but your grey head and honest face may 
 help me some, and I choose to use you." 
 
 " At what hour shall I go ?" 
 
 " At eight, precisely, call at my shop, and I will direct 
 you more particularly." 
 
 " I shall try and be punctual." 
 
 " Try I I've no doubt in my mind that you'll be there at 
 the time at the very minute and now I must go," said 
 Hann, as he left the room and returned hastily to his own 
 shop, where he busied himself with certain preparations 
 until a rap was heard at his door, which he had locked and 
 securely fastened. Going towards it, he carefully opened it, 
 till he recognized his visitor, whom he desired to enter for a 
 moment ; then, completing the labor on which he was 
 engaged, relocked his door, and with his companion sallied 
 out. 
 
 " I knew you would come, and be punctual, too." 
 
 " Yes, I am indeed here, but my heart misgives me. Is it 
 the plain truth that you have told me ?" 
 11*
 
 250 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Don't trouble your brain too much, or it might not be 
 well for you ; here take this street, it leads into Greenwich 
 street, turn to the right and you'll see the name on the 
 door. I shall be near, and mind, no bungling. By the 
 way, there's an Irish servant, tell her she's wanted too." 
 
 " I do still fear that it is a business an honest man should 
 spurn, but I must go on in it now whatever be the result, ' 
 said the old man to himself, as he turned to leave. " But 
 why have the servant also ?" he turned to inquire. 
 
 " Because we should have her anyway, and it would be 
 best to send for her in the first place ; but I'll dispose of 
 her. Now, hurry on." 
 
 " I will, but I trust there'll be no violence used upon the 
 person of either," he said, again stopping. 
 
 " Just go on, and do as I want you to ; time is pressing," 
 Haun answered. 
 
 " Now don't, I pray you, get impatient, I find that I can't 
 go with the speed that I could once ; I'm getting feebler 
 every day." 
 
 Haun approached the old man, and said, through his 
 closed teeth, as he laid his hand heavily on his shoulder : 
 " Are we to stay here all night, or are you going ?" The 
 old man did not wait to answer, but moved off as briskly 
 as age and weakness would permit. Arrived at Dr. Foster's 
 house, which he found without difficulty; he rung the bell, 
 and Bridget appeared at the door. 
 
 "I am told that Doctor Foster lives here. Is there a 
 child of nine years and upward living with him ?"
 
 ARKE8T AND BKIBEKT. 251 
 
 " There's no one but Anna Hervey," Bridget answered. 
 
 " True 1 and a servant girl, whose name is " 
 
 " Bridget," she interrupted ; " that's meself." 
 " True, the doctor wishes you to accompany me with the 
 child to his office." 
 
 " To go to his office, and for what, I'd like to know ?" 
 " Indeed I know not ; I asked no questions, but came as 
 fast as I could." 
 
 " Well, sir, will ye be pleased to wait a bit while we get 
 ready ?" said Bridget, as she turned to Anna, who had 
 approached on hearing voices, and asked : 
 " What is it, Biddy ? what does he want ?" 
 " Jist nothing at all, but to go to the docthor's office; so, 
 get yerself ready." 
 
 " Who is he ? Did the doctor send you for us ?" contin- 
 ued Anna, turning to him. 
 
 " Surely, my dear child, or why should I have come ?" 
 " Why didn't he come home himself ?" 
 " I really am not able to answer your question." 
 " What can he want of us so late in the evening ?" 
 " I wish I could tell you, child, but I cannot." 
 Without further questioning, the party left the house, and 
 proceeded towards the doctor's office. They went before, 
 leading the way, and did not observe the significant fact 
 that their companion seemed to be ignorant of the proper 
 direction. Had they noticed this circumstance, it would 
 have put them on their guard; but without guile themselves 
 suspected no evil designs in others. As they passed
 
 252 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 / 
 
 unsuspectingly along, a man darted from the shadow of a 
 building, and as his form appeared for an instant before her 
 eyes, Biddy fell prostrate upon the earth, struck senseless 
 by a blow upon the side of the head, which came with such 
 force, and so unexpectedly, that she had not the time to 
 even utter a scream. At almost the very instant the blow 
 was struck, Anna felt herself grasped by a muscular hand? 
 and a handkerchief bound instantly around her mouth, so as 
 to completely stifle any sound that she might attempt to 
 utter. At the same time, a shawl was thrown over her 
 head, and she felt herself raised up from the walk and 
 rapidly borne along the street. As soon as she had par- 
 tially recovered her senses, so as to realize her situation, she 
 endeavored to cry out, but could only utter inarticulate 
 sounds. She endeavored to writhe herself from the grasp 
 of her captor, but in vain ; his long arms coiled around her 
 like bonds, and effectually prevented any motion, and their 
 increased pressure at any attempt to release herself became 
 intensely painful. After being borne, as it seemed to 
 her, a great distance, she was placed upon the ground, 
 and heard her captor muttering : " Why don't he move 
 along? time for him to be here." And soon thereafter 
 footsteps were heard approaching, and she recognized the 
 voice of the speaker, as he said, petulantly to the new 
 comer : 
 
 "Well, you're here at last. Now make you're old legs 
 more lively, and find where the boat lies." 
 
 "Yes, the Lord be praised," answered the person ad-
 
 ARREST AND BRIBERY. 253 
 
 dressed, as he drew a long breath, " I'm here, at last, but it 
 has wrenched me terribly to come with such speed. Don't 
 be impatient I've no doubt I shall soon find it, and then 
 I'll come and inform you." 
 
 " Well, do it, then, and don't speak loud enough to raise 
 the city ; I'm not deaf. It's lucky that it's as dark as 
 Egypt, or the whole pack would be howling around us." 
 
 The other person made no answer, but the sound of re- 
 treating steps was heard, and then again all was still for a 
 few moments. The sound of steps approaching was again 
 heard, and the same voice remarked : 
 
 " I've found it. It's but a short distance from here." 
 
 " Well, lead the way, then, and be quiet. Now, girl, I'm 
 going to take you to your uncle, as I told you. Mind that 
 you don't try to escape from me, or to make any noise, or 
 I'll stop your talking in a way you won't like." 
 
 " Now do go on, and show the way don't stand all 
 night," said Haun, impatiently. 
 
 " Yes, I will ; but don't take it amiss, I pray you, if I 
 desire you to return to me the note that you hold, as you 
 must recollect you promised to do." 
 
 " Of course, when you've kept your part of the contract." 
 
 " Don't consider me too urgent ; but I can't rest in peace 
 while the paper is in your possession, and I hope, for your 
 own sake, you will not oblige me to " 
 
 " Oh, * your long-winded sermons there, take the 
 
 note here it is. Now lead the way." 
 
 " No I have the paper, and I will not lead the way. I
 
 254 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 will do this much, however : I will point to the boat, that 
 you may find it. It is there," said the old man, and after a 
 pause, resumed : " I do not feel right about my share in this 
 business, although it may be all correct, and I trust we 
 may never meet again on earth so farewell." Haun, 
 without waiting to hear the remainder of his remark, again 
 seized his charge in his arms, and saying in a subdued tone, 
 " Now, girl, remember if you speak one word aloud, I'll 
 throttle you," passed quickly and quietly on to the boat ; 
 but as he and the girl crossed the guards, he was met by 
 one of the crew, who seemed to be on watch, who demanded 
 peremptorily his business at that late hour. Haun replied, 
 in a conciliatory manner, that he was a stranger, and had 
 come with his little grand-daughter, to take passage on the 
 boat, supposing that it would leave that evening but if not, 
 then he wanted to secure a passage, and stay on board until 
 morning. But Haun found that every undertaking, however 
 trivial or unimportant, has its obstacles to overcome, and 
 was therefore dumbfounded, when he was informed, in no 
 very gentle or carefully chosen words, that the boat didn't 
 leave till the next evening, and that it was too late for Mm 
 to secure a passage that night, and that even if he har 
 already done so, he could not come on until the next day, as 
 it was against orders to have passengers staying on board. 
 Haun felt himself placed in a very disagreeable predicament. 
 He could not remain on board of the boat, and he dared not 
 return into the city ; but he knew by experience that nothing 
 was obtained without labor and cost, and therefore proceeded
 
 ARREST AND BRIBERY. 255 
 
 accordingly, and had the satisfaction to find his labors 
 crowned with success. After a long conference, he induced 
 the man who was known among the crew by the name of 
 Ben, not only to admit him with his charge on board, at that 
 late hour, but also to make provision for a place of thorough 
 concealment in the store-room, until the boat should be under 
 way and all danger past, and to supply him with all things 
 necessary, until such time as he might dare to show himself. 
 The bargain was, after some haggling, concluded, and Haun 
 was temporarily shown to a part of the boat least exposed 
 to observation, where he could remain until the crew should 
 have retired to their berths, and thus be out of the way, and 
 then he could seek his retreat. He remained shivering in 
 the night air, until the evening was well advanced, and then, 
 under the guidance of his friend, all appearing quiet below, 
 sought his place of refuge, in the store-room. The day finally 
 dawned, and to Haun, in his confined position, seemed to pass 
 slowly away ; but as night again approached, he regained 
 his spirits and his courage, and waited impatiently for the 
 vessel to leave port. He was, however, far from feeling at 
 ease ; his limbs had become cramped from their long re- 
 straint and want of exercise, and he was obliged to exert a 
 constant watchfulness over his charge, to prevent her utter- 
 ing any sound that might attract the attention of the crew, 
 whenever any of them might happen to pass near. On 
 hearing the voices of the party in pursuit of Anna, his heart 
 sank, and he crouched still closer into the corner that he had 
 chosen for his place of refuge ; but when Anna's smothered
 
 256 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 cry had attracted their attention, he gave all up as lost, and 
 prepared to defend himself desperately ; but when he heard 
 their retreating footsteps become fainter, then he became 
 exhilarated with joy at his escape, but again catching the 
 sound of their voices, and hearing the doctor shouting the 
 name of " Anna," he prepared himself for any emergency, 
 rather than be arrested. The idea of escape occurred to 
 him suddenly, as the door flew open, and he saw the opportu- 
 nity presented. It was not premeditated. 
 
 On leaping from the boat on to the dock, he ran at full 
 speed, and was soon covered by the darkness. After run- 
 ning with as little noise as possible, two blocks, he stopped 
 and listened for the sound of pursuing footsteps, but to his 
 surprise, he heard nothing. He turned and retraced his 
 steps for a short distance, and again listened, but in vain. 
 He grew bolder, and skulking carefully along, reached un- 
 seen a pile of boxes on the dock, behind which he crept. As 
 he crouched in his hiding-place, he observed the sheriff and 
 his party leave the boat, and heard distinctly their conver- 
 sation. 
 
 He followed them carefully in the darkness, for a short 
 distance, revolving in his mind the chances of success in 
 attempting a rescue, when the party should separate, but 
 finally gave it up as being too hazardous, and again slunk 
 away into the gloom of night. 
 
 Making his way through by-streets and alleys, Haun once 
 more returned to the neighborhood of his own shop. He 
 could discern by the dim light of a street lamp that flickered
 
 ARREST AND BRIBERY. 257 
 
 near, the destruction that had rioted upon his cherished pro- 
 perty. He did not dare to go nearer, but gliding around to 
 a private door, entered. He felt his way along until he 
 reached a trap-door, which he raised, and kneeling upon the 
 floor, extended his arm into the aperture, and drew there- 
 from a small tin box, which he deposited beside him ; then 
 rising hastily, he groped his way into his inner apartment, 
 into which the crowd had not penetrated, and in a moment 
 re-appeared, disguised by the addition of a large wig of grey 
 hair, a Quaker hat, and a drab coat of formal cut, and then 
 seizing his box, opened the door and prepared to leave. But 
 alas for the fallibility of human expectations. A policeman 
 had been stationed to watch the premises for the very pur- 
 pose of intercepting Haun, in case of his return ; and now, 
 simple man, he runs into the very net which his own cunning 
 should have taught him to avoid. The policeman, therefore, 
 himself unobserved, quietly stood awaiting Haun's exit, and 
 as the latter stepped from the door, the officer stood before 
 him, with his club raised ready to arrest his departure ; the 
 watchman laid his other hand heavily upon Haun's shoulder. 
 The pawnbroker was taken at disadvantage, and his courage 
 failed him. With a blank visage, he cast his eyes about on 
 either side, as far as the darkness would permit, to discover 
 whether any opportunity for escape or resistance offered, 
 while the officer said mockingly, and with a nasal twang : 
 
 " Friend, art thou ready to go with me ?" 
 
 " Don't stop me," said Haun, in an excited manner ; " I
 
 258 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 must be off with the boat. I'll pay you come, how much 
 shall I give you ?" 
 
 " Thou art very generous, but if thou 'rt ready, we will 
 commence our travel," persisted the officer. 
 
 "No, no, don't say what it shall be, and here's your 
 money." 
 
 " Would'st thou tempt me, wicked man ?" 
 
 " Ten twenty thirty dollars," Haun answered, with a 
 long pause between each word ; " say how much." 
 
 " Gammon 1 I see you a'nt in earnest," said the officer, 
 dropping the assumed tone. 
 
 " Stop I don't go yet ; tell me what you'll take." 
 
 " Two hundred dollars, and nothing less." 
 
 " I've not so much money. See I've been robbed of my 
 property." 
 
 "Well, then, let's go." 
 
 " Say one hundred dollars, and I'll try." 
 
 " I've already told you, and if you're not satisfied, don't 
 let's stop to talk." 
 
 " Here !" said Haun, as if struck with a sudden idea, I'll 
 give you a hundred now, and the other hundred when I get 
 back." 
 
 " Will you, though, for sure ?" said the policeman, ironi- 
 cally. 
 
 " Yes, I will, and another fifty on top of it." 
 
 " Yes you won't ; but there's no use talking I see you 
 had rather go to jail ; and hark, I hear some one coming
 
 ABKEBT AND BKIBEEY. 259 
 
 \ 
 
 it may be too late, already, to arrange it. Never mind, I'll 
 call him, and see who it is." 
 
 " No, don't here's a hundred and fifty in gold the last 
 farthing I have in the world, as true as I live," Haun an- 
 swered in a whining voice. 
 
 " Then come on, will you go willingly, or shall I give the 
 signal for assistance ?" 
 
 " Stop 1 stop ! here's the money, two hundred dollars, 
 and I'm a ruined man." 
 
 " All right," said the officer, as he counted the pieces, 
 " now I'd advise you to move off softly, or you might get 
 nabbed again and mind about showing your ugly mug very 
 soon, around here." 
 
 Haun did not wait for a second bidding, but, as soon as 
 he was released, made his long limbs do good service while 
 the policeman continued his round, and reported at head 
 quarters, that no one had appeared, but forgot to speak of 
 the two hundred dollars that he had received. 
 
 But policemen were not so incorruptible in those days, 
 as they are at present. 
 
 After the fortunate release of Haun from the hands of the 
 policeman, he was moved with conflicting emotions, misfor- 
 tunes had fallen heavily upon him, the prize that he had so 
 long struggled, striven, and plotted for, had been wrung 
 from his very grasp. His premises had been invaded, and 
 his property ruthlessly destroyed by a mob. He had paid 
 out his money for his liberty his money, that he worshipped. 
 And what had he gained ? He had escaped when in immi-
 
 260 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 nent danger. But he was an outlaw, and dare not walk 
 abroad at noonday, nor appear in his accustomed haunts. 
 The accomplishment of his great object was still unperfected. 
 He had been but preparing the way to the fulfillment of the 
 design on which his heart had doted. The means that he 
 had adopted to reach this end, had been wrested from him 
 in part only. He had the remnant of his shattered allies 
 still in his possession, and with a dogged determination, 
 resolved that no consideration should restrain him or induce 
 him to recede. He knew full well that it would not be 
 judicious to let the day dawn upon him, while tarrying in 
 the neighborhood of New York. As he walked slowly and 
 cautiously along, revolving such thoughts, the grey light of 
 morning began to appear in the east. Looking around for 
 some place of refuge, he discovered that he was not far 
 from the river, where the flags of vessels of all nations were 
 lazily floating upon the breeze of morning. His resolution 
 was soon taken. Selecting indifferently one of the nearest 
 boats, he went on board, and weary in body, but with his 
 iron will still unbent, threw himself upon a seat, and soon 
 sank into a deep sleep. 
 
 The vessel was bound for Havana, as he learned after- 
 wards. He did not awake until aroused by the rays of the 
 morning sun which fell full upon his face, and he then 
 went immediately helow, both for the purpose of escap- 
 ing observation, and of inquiring the destination of the 
 boat. 
 
 He listened with delight to the rattle of wheels, as vehicle
 
 ARKE8T AND BKIBEET. 261 
 
 after vehicle, loaded with passengers whirled madly through 
 the streets, down to the dock. He heard, with pleasure, the 
 constantly increasing hum and bustle of life. He heard the 
 "heave-ho 1" of the crew as the last parcel of freight was 
 tumbled into the hold. The signal was given the plank pulled 
 in the lines cast off and then the pawnbroker felt that he 
 had escaped fiery trials that danger was past and giving 
 one sullen scowling look to the, by him deserted city, turned 
 his back resolutely upon it, and cast his eyes seaward, 
 where the broad expanse of waters lay before him.
 
 262 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MB. PIERCE AND MICH. 
 
 " WEEPING may endure for a night, but joy cometh with 
 the morning." So wrote the Psalmist, and so it was in the 
 house of Doctor Foster, after the restoration of the lost 
 one. 
 
 But the doctor, not yet knowing of Haun's escape from 
 the city, feared a repetition of the attempt which had so 
 fortunately miscarried, and, therefore, concluded that a 
 proper regard for the safety of the child would be consulted 
 only by placing her beyond his reach. 
 
 He revolved the matter in his mind, as he sat at break- 
 fast, and ate his solitary meal, for Anna had not yet arisen, 
 and he hesitated to disturb her, after the mental excitement 
 of the past few hours. But his reverie was unexpectedly 
 interrupted by her entrance. She approached, and throw- 
 ing her arms around his neck, greeted him with the usual 
 morning salutation, and said : 
 
 " How glad I am to be back here again; but I dreamt all 
 night about that old man. What do you suppose he wanted 
 of me r
 
 MB. PIERCE AND MICH. 263 
 
 " I don't know, never mind him ; I wouldn't think of him 
 any more." 
 
 " I know what he wanted ; he told me he was going to 
 take me to my uncle." 
 
 " He did? we'll find out all about that uncle before long." 
 
 " I don't care for any uncle but you; but, perhaps, he will 
 come and try again," said Anna, shuddering. 
 
 " No, no, I think not ; but we must be on our guard. 
 You must not stay here for the present." 
 
 " What do you mean ? don't send me away." 
 
 " I've got a friend hi the country, and, I think " 
 
 " But, you know, Mich's coming, too, this morning," 
 interrupted Anna, " and I want to see him ; he'd feel bad, 
 if he should come and find me gone ; and, perhaps, he'd 
 think I didn't want to see him." 
 
 " Well, yon ought to be glad to see him, child ; for, if it 
 hadn't been for him, we should not have found you. I'm 
 sure of that." 
 
 " Where do you want me to go ?" 
 
 " I wanted you to go into the country, but I must stay 
 here to-day, and, perhaps, for several days ; and so, I think, 
 I will let you visit some friend till I can dispose of my 
 business." 
 
 " But you don't think he would come into the house dur- 
 ing the day ?" 
 
 " I don't think anything about it, child, and I'm not 
 going to risk anything, and until I am sure that he is a 
 hundred miles from the city, I shall not feel secure ; so I
 
 264- OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 must think of some place by the way, there's that minis- 
 ter who was here once. I'm not much acquainted with him, 
 but he don't live far from here, and, I think, I can arrange 
 it with him. How would you like going there ?" 
 
 "I should like that; but, perhaps they wouldn't want me." 
 
 " Well, I'll see to that. Finish your breakfast, and then 
 go and fix yourself up a little ; because he has some chil- 
 dren and I want you to look nicely ; and then we'll go and 
 see if they want a visitor." 
 
 The breakfast was soon finished, and, in a few minutes, 
 Anna stood ready to accompany the doctor. As she 
 approached, he glanced at her with a feeling of gratified 
 pride. Her pale face was in such marked contrast with the 
 deep hue of her dress, while her large, hazel eyes showed 
 such a depth of intelligence and feeling, that the casual 
 glance of the passer was involuntarily arrested, and he 
 turned to look again. She did not possess that perfection 
 of mould in her feature which constitutes beauty ; but 
 there was that indescribable something in the expression 
 of her face, which seemed to be more of spiritual than 
 mortal. 
 
 " So, my little girl is ready," said the doctor fondly, as 
 she approached, and, taking her by the hand, " Well, now, 
 come along ;" and, turning to Biddy, he added : " Tell 
 Mich, if he should come, that I was in a hurry, and couldn't 
 wait, but I'll see him at the office." 
 
 They left the house, and, after a short walk, stood before 
 the door of the Rev. Joseph Eandall, the clergyman who
 
 MR. PIERCE AND MICH. 265 
 
 was present and ministered to Mrs. Hervey during her last 
 illness. 
 
 A servant answered their summons, and showing them 
 into a plainly furnished parlor, left them to call her master, 
 who soon entered and greeted them cordially. 
 
 The doctor, from his not by any means, intimate ac- 
 quaintance with the clergyman, felt somewhat embarrassed 
 in opening to him the subject of his early visit. He said, 
 at the same time glancing at Anna : 
 
 " I have a favor to ask of you." 
 
 " Anything that is in my power," Mr. Randall answered. 
 
 " I dare not leave my little girl at home, and I wish you 
 to permit her to remain with your family for, perhaps, a 
 day or two." 
 
 "Certainly, with a great deal of pleasure," the clergy- 
 man quickly answered, but still not entirely able to conceal 
 a look of surprise at the request. 
 
 " Thank you. I hope she won't trouble you ; I will come 
 for her myself before dark, so don't let her go with any 
 one else. Circumstances require that she should be closely 
 guarded for a day or two." 
 
 " I will attend to your request ; but I trust nothing 
 unpleasant has occurred to ?" 
 
 " Unpleasant ! yes, sir, I am obliged to say that some- 
 thing very unpleasant has occurred," the doctor answered, 
 with more emphasis than he intended or was aware of. 
 
 " Indeed ! I am anxious to learn what it can be." 
 
 " It is right that I should inform you," the doctor replied,
 
 266 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 and immediately detailed, as concisely as possible, the events 
 with which the reader is already familiar ; and rising to take 
 his leave, added : " From this, you will understand my object 
 in bringing her to you ; and you will also see the necessity 
 of her being carefully guarded until we can learn whether 
 the villain has left the city, or whether he is still prowling 
 about for the purpose of making a more successful attempt." 
 
 "Your wishes shall be regarded. I hope she will stay 
 with us contentedly." 
 
 "Be a good girl, Anna good bye," said the doctor, as 
 he left the room. Anna's bosom heaved, and tears started 
 to her eyes, when she was left alone ; but she quickly sup- 
 pressed her emotion when Mr. Randall re-entered the room, 
 and taking her hand, spoke a few encouraging words, and 
 invited her to go with him into the nursery to get acquainted 
 with his children. Anna's timidity soon wore off, and the 
 children became quickly acquainted the day passed rapidly 
 away, and when the doctor came for her, in the evening, she 
 left, with many promises of soon coming again, delighted 
 with her visit. 
 
 The family of Mr. Randall consisted of three children 
 the eldest, a boy of fourteen years, who had conceived for 
 liis new acquaintance quite a boyish fancy, while she, on the 
 other hand, had been attracted by his frank and open man- 
 ner, and preferred his society to that of the younger children. 
 
 She went often afterwards to pass a day in the family of 
 Mr. Randall, where she was always warmly and cordially 
 welcomed.
 
 ME. PIEKCE AND MICH. 267 
 
 After Doctor Foster had disposed of his charge for the 
 day, he went immediately in search of the sheriff. From 
 him he learned, to his great disappointment, that Haun had 
 not been captured, but had probably escaped from the city. 
 He also learned from the same source, that upon examination 
 of the pockets of the coat accidentally left by Haun, several 
 important papers were discovered, some of which showed his 
 connection with many of the most notorious criminals of the 
 day, who had made his shop a depot for every kind of pro- 
 perty obtained by them through burglary and theft. And 
 it was also suspected, from what was there discovered, that 
 he was implicated with a regularly organized band, not only 
 as a recipient of property illegally obtained, but as a promi" 
 nent actor in many of the more daring robberies which, at 
 that time, as will be seen by reference to the journals of the 
 day, were mysteriously perpetrated. 
 
 The discovery of these papers caused suspicion to fall 
 heavily also upon several persons who had hitherto sustained 
 a fair reputation, and in consequence of which a thorough 
 and secret inquisition was instituted, and prosecuted with 
 vigor by the sheriff, in conjunction with the city authorities, 
 but although sufficient proof was obtained to render their 
 guilt morally certain, still, the legal evidence was wanting, 
 on which a prosecution could have been based, and thus the 
 guilty escaped. 
 
 Doctor Foster expressed his chagrin at the escape of Haun, 
 and urged upon the sheriff the necessity of scouring the city 
 to render it certain that he was not still lurking about in
 
 268 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 some of the dens of crime and infamy ; but the sheriffs ex- 
 perience taught him that Haun, having had a fair opportu- 
 nity and sufficient time to place himself beyond their reach, 
 would suffer no ordinary inducement to keep him, but would 
 consult his safety by flight ; and in reply to the demand of 
 the doctor that he should continue, without intermission, the 
 search, said : 
 
 "Be patient, doctor I tell you there's no use in looking 
 for him. I know enough of such matters to assure you with 
 confidence that he is not in the city." 
 
 " I doubt if the old Shylock would go and leave his pro- 
 perty in this way. It's that that makes me think he must 
 be prowling around waiting for a chance to carry it with 
 him." 
 
 "You may depend upon it, doctor, he's no bird to be 
 caught by chaff ; and as to the property, unless he's got 
 some hid somewhere, I don't think that in his shop is worth 
 coming after." 
 
 " Why so ?" 
 
 " There can't be much of it left. The boys made havoc 
 with his old den, last night." 
 
 " Did they ? I hadn't heard of it. Did any one watch 
 there ?" 
 
 " Yes, I placed a good man there." 
 
 " And he didn't appear ?" 
 
 " I am informed not." 
 
 " That is too bad. I believe you are right, after all, and 
 that he has left ; so I shall rest much easier."
 
 MK. PIERCE AND MICH. 269 
 
 " You'd better, however, be a little careful, and ou your 
 guard, because he's a desperate fellow." 
 
 " That I shall be," said the doctor, as he left and went to 
 consult once more with his friend Pierce. 
 
 " Well, doctor," said the attorney, as the former entered, 
 " so you didn't entirely succeed; still you got the girl that's 
 the great point. Sorry I couldn't have been with you, but 
 I got separated at the shop of the pawnbroker, and didn't 
 observe when you left ; but the sheriff has told me all about 
 It, this morning. Have you heard how they served his shop ?" 
 
 " Yes ; pity they hadn't burnt it with him in it," answered 
 the doctor. 
 
 " Exactly what I thought myself, and I believe they would 
 have burnt it, had it not been for the danger of communica- 
 ting to the neighboring houses." 
 
 " Were you there ?" 
 
 " I may confess that I was there, and saw the fun, but, 
 I shall not criminate myself by saying anything further," 
 said Mr. Pierce, laughing. " By the by, how is the child ?" 
 he added. 
 
 " As well as ever ; frightened some, but she'll soon get 
 over it." 
 
 " Poor thing, it must have been a terrible situation for 
 her, and to be in such hands, too." 
 
 " Yes ; I was afraid it might produce some serious 
 effect." 
 
 " The sheriff tells me that, had it not been for an Irish 
 lad of her acquaintance, he should not have found her '-
 
 270 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " I think that is so." 
 
 " Who is the boy ?" 
 
 " He is employed by Doctor Marsh, iii some way, but 
 became acquainted with my ward before her mother died, 
 and comes often to my house to see her now. He's a rare 
 boy active, intelligent, and honest." 
 
 " How came he there at that time of night ?" said the 
 attorney, curiously. 
 
 " I went myself to see him at first when I found that the 
 child was missing, and so he came down with me and insti- 
 tuted a search on his own account, I suppose, but in fact, I 
 forgot all about him, and haven't thought to ask him since ; 
 but I've left word for him to call and see me, and I'll inquire 
 of him about it ; but the next time I saw him was down on 
 the dock ; as the sheriff and I were groping along in the 
 darkness he discovered us, and directed us to the very spot. 
 As it was, I had some difficulty in inducing the sheriff to be 
 guided by him, he wanted take another direction ; if he had, 
 the child would have been lost." 
 
 " It's the same lad that you spoke to me about, the other 
 day in connection with this same affair, is it not ?" 
 
 " It's hard for me to recollect, I've had so much in my 
 head for the last few days, but I presume I referred to 
 him." 
 
 " While on this subject, doctor," said Mr. Pierce, slowly 
 and meditatively, "do you know whether this boy is 
 engaged for any time in his present situation ?" 
 
 " Can't say with certainty, but I don't think he would
 
 ME. PIEKCE AND MICH. 271 
 
 wish to remain if he could find anything to do more to his 
 taste." 
 
 " I've been thinking since you spoke of him, whether I 
 couldn't engage him ; I need some one, and believe he might 
 suit me. What do you think ?" 
 
 " Just the one, Pierce ; couldn't do better, the fact is, 
 Mich has a soul above holding a horse, and mere menial 
 employment. I think he's a boy of promise, young as he 
 is," said the doctor, warmly. 
 
 " When you see him again then, doctor, just sound him, 
 and if he'd like to change send him to me, and I'll talk with 
 him, and may perhaps be able to do something if he shows 
 himself apt." 
 
 " I will do it, certainly. I wanted to inquire about when 
 we ought to expect an answer from New Orleans." 
 
 " It is not quite time yet, but we shall hear before long, 
 you may rely upon it." 
 
 " I have a mind to make a journey myself down there ; I 
 could find out more in a day than your lawyers can in a 
 month." 
 
 "You are mistaken, doctor ; I have done considerable 
 business with the firm, and have always found them prompt. 
 So rest easy it would be very imprudent at any rate for 
 you to go at this season, even if it were necessary, which it 
 is not." 
 
 " Imprudent ; why so ?" 
 
 "I refer to the necessary exposure of your health by 
 going there during the warm weather."
 
 272 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " That's it, eh ; I think I should be able to take care of 
 myself." 
 
 " That may be, but what would you do with the child ? 
 even if you thought proper to risk your own health, you 
 have no right to expose hers. You would not, of course, 
 think of taking her with you ?" 
 
 " Eight ! I will leave the matter in your hands, only 
 drive it through." 
 
 " And I can not help thinking, doctor, after all, that we 
 may have given the slight ground on which our suspicions 
 are based too much importance. However, time will deter- 
 mine, I shall omit nothing," said the attorney, as he again 
 resumed his writing, which had been interrupted by the 
 entrance of the doctor, who left to attend to his own 
 duties. 
 
 At as early an hour in the morning as he could absent him- 
 self from his usual employment, Mich stood before the door 
 of Doctor Foster. He had come to inquire whether all had 
 gone well, and to satisfy himself of Anna's continued safety. 
 He was greatly disappointed when he learned that she had 
 kft so early in the morning, and turned away in silence to 
 take his leave. But Biddy, kind soul, called him back to 
 communicate the message of the doctor, and it tended to 
 raise his drooping spirits, and to lighten the pressure upon 
 his heart. He returned to the discharge of his duties, but 
 his thoughts were away. He thought she might have stayed 
 at home long enough to see him, and wondered where she 
 had gone, whom she would see, and whether she would
 
 MB. PIEBCE AND MICH. 273 
 
 meet any one else to like better than himself and thus, 
 even unconsciously, the natural selfishness of human nature 
 exhibited itself. 
 
 When Mich went, however, on the succeeding day to 
 renew his call, the shade of jealousy that had for a short 
 time rested upon his spirit, was dissipated by the glance of 
 Anna's eye, that lighted up with joy, on meeting him again 
 and her cordial greeting banished his half-formed fears. 
 She was delighted to see him, and thanked him over and 
 over again, for his opportune aid in rescuing her. She also 
 told him how much she had enjoyed her visit, what she had 
 done, seen, and heard, and whom she had met and become 
 acquainted with. Mich listened attentively, although his 
 faee was sad, and a shade of vexation would flit occasionally 
 across his features, and finally, when she stopped for a 
 moment, Mich replied : 
 
 "Well, Anna, I'm thinking ye'll not care to see me so 
 often now, ye've got so many new frinds ?" 
 
 " Why ! Mich, what do you mean ?" she inquired, quickly, 
 and looking with earnestness into his face. 
 
 " In fa'th an' I mane ye'll not be wantin' to waste ye're 
 time on a poor folk like meself when ye have so many new 
 frinds." 
 
 " Now, Mich 1 you know that's not so. I shall be just as 
 glad to see you now as I always have been why shouldn't 
 I?" 
 
 " It's the way wid the grand folk, and ye're not to blame 
 for it," at swered Mich, as he turned his face resolutely away. 
 
 12*
 
 274 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 '' Mich," exclaimed Anna, with a quivering iipas the tears 
 came to her eyes. She could say no more, but hid her face 
 in her hands and sobbed. She felt so hnrt, so disappointed 
 at witnessing the strange and unusual manner and tone of 
 Mich. She had been anxious to see him after the dangers 
 she had escaped. 
 
 Mich looked at her for a moment, and endeavored manfully 
 to maintain his composure and not exhibit any weakness, 
 while his face flushed and paled alternately with the emotion 
 that was struggling within him, and then he went up to her 
 and drawing her hands from her face, said in a trembling 
 voice : 
 
 " Stop, now, Anna, won't ye ?" 
 
 " Mich, you ought not to say that, when you know that I 
 do care for you, and you've always been so kind when I had 
 no one else to help me." 
 
 " Well thin don't spake of it ; I did'nt mane to hurt ye're 
 feelins', but I couldn't help it." 
 
 " Why not, Mich ?" 
 
 " I don't know meself, sometimes I feel so quare like, an' 
 so lonesome I can't contint meself, an' me mother's gettin' so 
 wakely, that I'm always a fearin' she'll go off and lave me 
 alone in the wide world, but if I could know that ye were 
 still me frind, I could keep a brave heart." 
 
 " Mich, don't talk so ; you make me feel bad. You 
 must'nt think so much about her, because when you get the 
 other place you'll be able to do more for her." 
 
 " What's the place ye mane ?-'
 
 MB. PIBKCB AND MICH. 275 
 
 " Did'nt the doctor tell you about Mr. Pierce wanting to 
 Bee you ?" 
 
 " Niver a word, buc I hav'nt seen the docthor since the 
 last night. What did he want of me ?" 
 
 " I think he wanted you to come and live with him but 
 I'll ask the doctor. He's a lawyer I heard the doctor say 
 so. I should think you would rather live with him than hold 
 a horse." 
 
 Mich colored slightly, at the unthinking allusion to his 
 occupation, but replied : 
 
 " Indade, an' I would that same. It's only for want of a 
 bether place that I'm there at all. Where does he live ? 
 I'll go the minute." 
 
 " You'd better wait for the doctor, and perhaps he'll go 
 with you, and he'll tell you all about it, too." 
 
 " Well, I'd bether be goin' now, and comin' this afther- 
 noon to spake with the docthor ; so good by. I cannot 
 stay now, for mabee I'll be wanted." 
 
 Without waiting longer, Mich seized his cap, and darted off. 
 
 In the afternoon, true to his engagement, he called on 
 Doctor Foster, who explained to him the duties that would 
 be required of him in the new situation, advised him freely 
 and frankly not to fail to secure the place, and offered to go 
 with him to Mr. Pierce's office at once, to arrange the mat- 
 ter. Mich gladly accepted the proposition, and accompanied 
 the doctor. Terms were soon settled, and Mich agreed to 
 enter into the service of the attorney, as soon as he could 
 obtain a release from his engagement with his present em 

 
 276 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBBOKEB. 
 
 ployer In this there was but little difficulty, and although 
 Doctor Marsh would have gladly retained him, yet, con- 
 scious that the change was to Mich's advantage, he generous- 
 ly consented to forego any private considerations of interest 
 or convenience, and to consent to the change. Mich left 
 with regret his old employer, but immediately entered with 
 zeal upon the discharge of the duties of his new situation. 
 
 As tune passed on, although no tidings of Haun could be 
 obtained, still Doctor Foster did not feel secure. He could 
 not give himself up, with his usual devotedness, to the cares 
 of his profession. There seemed to be some evil impending. 
 His mind was distracted. He could not feel sure, on return- 
 ing home at night, of finding all things safe ; and therefore, 
 as this indefinable dread seemed to increase upon him, and 
 to weigh upon his spirits, he determined to absent himself 
 for a tune from the city, and from the duties of his profession, 
 hoping that his mind would thereby regain its accustomed 
 tone and elasticity, and trusting also that on his return, 
 after a few weeks absence, he should be able to obtain some 
 certain information of the whereabouts of the one to whose 
 machinations he had been subject, and who had so inter- 
 rupted the even tenor of his life. 
 
 He resolved, during the few weeks of hot weather, to 
 leave the city and take his ward with him into the country. 
 This he felt that he might consistently do, as for years he had 
 borne the heat and burthen of the day, year in and year out, 
 toiling on in the regular routine of his duties, unceasingly 
 and uncomplainingly, without once deserting his post to seek
 
 MR. PIEKCE AND MICH. 277 
 
 his own amusement and recreation. Now he resolved that 
 he would go. The interest of another was at stake. He 
 might have willingly sacrificed himself if necessary, but now 
 a higher obligation was resting upon him. 
 
 On returning to his house, the doctor communicated to 
 Anna his determination, much to her delight, and desired her 
 to prepare her wardrobe and hold herself in readiness for 
 the morrow. She ran to inform Biddy of the pleasure in 
 store for her, and waited with impatience for the morrow. 
 The morrow finally came, and with it a bright sunny morn- 
 ing. All necessary preparation having been completed, they 
 bade good by to Biddy, left her sole mistress of the man- 
 sion, and departed. 
 
 The boat floated like a swan upon the water, while the 
 ripples played in the sunlight, and soon it glided away and 
 moved gracefully from its moorings. Their first destination 
 was Albany, where they arrived in due course of time. 
 From Albany they wandered off into the northern portion 
 of the State, just where fancy led them, avoiding as much 
 as possible the dust and sweltering heat of cities, and tarry- 
 ing in quiet villages, or stopping in search of enjoyment 
 where nature was yet free from the handicraft of man. 
 
 Thus a month passed in perfect freedom from the restraint 
 and carelessness of the morrow, till the doctor was admonish- 
 ed of the lapse of time, and warned to turn his face home- 
 ward. He still, however, lingered, anxious for a little while 
 longer to commune with nature, but finally bursting from 
 the thraldom that to him was so pleasant, started in earnes.
 
 278 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 for home. And now his anxiety to return, to recommence 
 active business, to see his home, to mix in the din and 
 bustle of life-, was quite as great as it had once been to 
 escape. He was impatient of the slow progress they were 
 making. But in due time the tall spires of the city glad- 
 dened his sight, and soon thereafter he stood before his 
 own door. 
 
 Biddy welcomed them with a hearty good will, and 
 hastened to make all things ready for their reception, after 
 their long absence. 
 
 They had hardly become rested, after the fatigue of 
 travelling, when Mich made his appearance", and his greet- 
 ing was cordially returned. Anna related to him her won- 
 derful experience of the past month, while he mentioned the 
 great change that had been wrought in his fortunes since 
 their departure. It was a change, indeed, and one which 
 was to influence his whole life ; the advantage was not iii 
 the increased compensation, but in the opportunities which 
 he would enjoy for study and improvement. His employer 
 soon discovered that Mich was no common boy. He had 
 observed him, when released from other duties, quietly and 
 unobtrusively retire to a corner, and drawing a well-worn 
 book from his pocket, silently and attentively scan its pages. 
 He saw that he had an inquiring mind and a retentive 
 memory, and was quick to understand and comprehend. He 
 found him active and industrious, and, above all, trustwor- 
 thy, and became interested in him. On a certain occasion, 
 observing Mich with his book in his hand Mr. Pierce
 
 MR. PIEKCE AND MICH. 
 
 inquired of him what he was reading ; and Mich looking 
 up, as he found Mr. Pierce's keen eyes fixed upon him, 
 hesitatingly replied : 
 
 " It's a history, sir." 
 
 " A history ! of what ?" 
 
 " Of yer own counthry, sir." 
 
 " Where did you learn to read ?" 
 
 " At the school, mainly, sir." 
 
 " Have you been much ?" 
 
 " No, sir, not a great dale ; me father got too poor to 
 bear the expense, and so I had to learn at home when I 
 could get time." 
 
 " Would you like to have an education ?" 
 
 " Indade, sir, it's the wish of me heart ; but there's no 
 use thinkin' of it, sir, me mother's got so wakely since she's 
 had to work to earn her bread, that I'm forced to save 
 everything I can spare to give it to her; but if ye've nothin' 
 forninst it, I should be glad to rade by meself, when ye've 
 nothing for me to do, sir." 
 
 " No, I have nothing against it, and should be glad to 
 have you improve your time. Have you no other book but 
 this ?" 
 
 " Notbin' to spake of, sir ; this was a prisint to me, 
 sir." 
 
 " How long did you say you had studied by yourself?" 
 Mr. Pierce continued. 
 
 " It might be the matter of a twelvemomth, or so, sir." 
 
 " Can you write ?"
 
 280 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Yes, sir, after a fashion." 
 
 " Let me see you write your name." 
 
 Mich did as desired, and Mr. Pierce was as much grati- 
 fied as surprised, to see his progress in chirography. After 
 sitting for a few minutes in thought, Mr. Pierce said, as he 
 gazed with satisfaction into Mich's intelligent face : 
 
 " Mich, how would you like to be a lawyer ?" 
 
 " How would I like it, sir ?" Mich answered, starting np, 
 enthusiastically, but immediately sank back, despairingly, as 
 he continued : " but that's not for the likes of me, sir." 
 
 " And why not ? you are young yet ; there's time enough 
 for you to get a good education." 
 
 " Indade, ye're jesting wid me ; where'd I get the money 
 to pay for it ?" 
 
 " You don't need a great deal of money. Study by your- 
 self, as you are now doing, and if you are really earnest in 
 your wish to obtain an education, there'll be no great diffi- 
 culty. It is perseverance and patience that overcome all 
 obstacles, and I might be willing to assist you some, but 
 think of it well, and make up your mind to persevere or not 
 to commence." 
 
 " I'd be only too willin', but what would me mother do 
 for a shelter for her head, and clothes, too, in the long 
 years I'd be laming it all, sir ?" 
 
 " Your mother, eh ? well 1 well 1 let me think. You're 
 right, Mich, in remembering your mother, let her always be 
 first in your t loughts ; but what can she do ? Can she 
 sew nicely T'
 
 ME. FIERCE AND MICH. 281 
 
 " Indade, she can, sir. She learned it all in the ould 
 counthry ; but it's any kind of work she's been thankful to 
 get, to kape us from starvin', since Jonny died." 
 
 " If she could only get some permanent situation or em- 
 ployment, it would be much better for both of you, and then 
 you could use the little you earn for yourself. There are 
 places enough that she could get, if she were only recom- 
 mended. You talk with her this evening, and if she would 
 like to engage in such occupation, I think I can help her to 
 find work enough." 
 
 " Ye're very kind, sir ; I'll spake wid me mother, but I'm 
 afraid it's the pride '11 kape her from going to service. She 
 niver did it in the ould counthry." 
 
 " Mich, I don't think your mother would be so foolish as 
 to reject any honorable employment that would give her a 
 livelihood. Service here is looked upon differently from 
 what it is in your native country. She need not necessarily 
 be a servant. She would not be obliged to do the menial 
 work that she does now, but would be in a comfortable 
 home and be well treated, besides receiving good wages 
 if she secures a place, as I am sure she can." 
 
 " I make no doubt she'd be glad to get such a place as 
 ye spake of, and I'll mintion it to her this evening." 
 
 " Very well, we'll let the matter rest then for the pre- 
 sent," said Mr. Pierce, as he resumed his writing, and Mich 
 retired to a corner with his book, but involuntarily his eyes 
 would wander away. He could not keep his mind upon it. 
 Years of toil and study wen before him but with his
 
 282 OLD HA. UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 vigorous efforts obstacles vanished. He looked into the 
 future, he saw himself changed from the friendless youth 
 into the favored of fortuae. He then fixed his eyes upon a 
 goal far distant in the future, and in his aftercourse never 
 once swerved or faltered till that goal was won. 
 
 But as Mich looked at his future self in imagination, he 
 could not help looking at his present self, in fact, and he 
 unconsciously drew a long breath and sighed. 
 
 Mr. Pierce heard the sigh and involuntarily turned and 
 looked at him, attracted by the expression of Mich's coun- 
 tenance. He himself had been once poor, and obliged to 
 depend upon his personal exertions to obtain his profession, 
 and he could sympathize with Mich in his earnest longings 
 to obtain that which now seemed so much beyond his reach. 
 And as he looked upon the finely formed features of the lad, 
 and noted the expression of intelligence, he felt confident 
 that Mich would grow in favor ; and that the efforts that he 
 himself might be disposed to make for Mich's advancement 
 and improvement, would not be misplaced. 
 
 Mr. Pierce had more in his mind that he had chosen to 
 communicate to Mich, but on his return to his home in the 
 evening, stated his wishes to his wife and consulted with her 
 concerning the propriety and expediency of offering to Mrs. 
 Lynch a place in their own family as seamstress, if, upon 
 seeing her they should be pleased with her appearance. 
 Mrs. Pierce was in feeble health, having been for years an 
 invalid, and at once adopted the suggestion. She desired 
 one who should not only do the work assigned, mechanically,
 
 MK. PIEKCE AND MICH. 283 
 
 but who had age and experience sufficient to merit confi- 
 dence in other domestic departments. It was with a view 
 to this arrangement that Mr. Pierce had proposed the matter 
 to Mich, and the next morning, when the latter appeared 
 with his mother, preliminaries were soon settled, and Mrs. 
 Lynch prepared at once to become an inmate of Mr. Pierce's 
 family in the capacity indicated to her. 
 
 Mich progressed rapidly, in familiarizing himself with the 
 minor and less important details of business which were, 
 after a little, entirely given up to him. He applied himself 
 closely, studied hard, and remembered what he heard and 
 read, and by the time the doctor and Anna returned from 
 their northern tour, had become quite at home in his new 
 situation 

 
 284 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE ENCOUNTER. 
 
 AN answer had been received by Mr. Pierce from his 
 correspondent at New Orleans, during the absence of Doc- 
 tor Foster, and he hastened to communicate to the latter, 
 on his return, the contents of the letter. It was as follows: 
 
 " NEW ORLKANS, A'nguat. 8, 18 
 " DANIEL PIERCE, Esq., New York. 
 
 " DEAR SIR : Your favor of 14th ult., was received yesterday. 
 I find that a person by the name of William Leonard, and answering 
 your description, died during the month of February last. He left 
 quite a fortune, which, from the failure of direct heirs, has reverted 
 to a relative by the name of James Cornell. He is a wild and reck- 
 less young man. This is all that we have been able to learn thus far, 
 but we will write again soon. 
 
 " Your obedient servants, 
 
 "LE ROT & BARNES." 
 
 "Plain enough that's her uncle, I am sure. Pierce, 
 don't you think the mystery's being unravelled ?" 
 
 " Why, yes, I think so, I have no doubt that the
 
 THE ENCOUNTEB. 285 
 
 William Leonard, who is said to have died there, is the 
 identical uncle of your ward, and that the property he left 
 rightfully belongs to her." 
 
 " She shall have it, then, if my life is spared." 
 
 " It is easy to say it, but, you know, possession is nine 
 points of the law, and we shall not be able to obtain it 
 without considerable difficulty, although I should imagine 
 we might easily show her identity, and, besides, this Cornell 
 may have come into possession legally : you see he is 
 spoken of as a relative." 
 
 ' How can that be ?" 
 
 " William Leonard may have devised it to him ; the fact 
 that Leonard was at variance with his sister, would incline 
 one to think so." 
 
 " Don't believe it. It is not natural that one should for- 
 get his own blood, and give all he has to strangers." 
 
 " He may have supposed his nearer relatives dead ; and 
 then, again, possibly this Cornell who is spoken of, may be 
 quite as nearly related as your ward." 
 
 " May be," said the doctor, contemptuously. " I have 
 never heard his name before, at any rate, and I know some- 
 thing of the family." 
 
 " Never mind, the truth can be easily ascertained : J pre- 
 sume we shall soon hear from New Orleans again, and you 
 see this letter was written soon after mine was received. 
 But, doctor, what do you propose doing ?" 
 
 " I intend the child shall have all that rightfully belongs 
 to her."
 
 286 OLD HAUK, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " That, undoubtedly; but I meau what course do you 
 propose to take ?" 
 
 " That I leave to you to advise, sir." 
 
 " We must be sure of our ground before we commence 
 anything, as, if we are to go into litigation, it may be a 
 rather expensive proceeding." 
 
 " What do I care for that ? I've got enough and to 
 spare, and the child shall not be wronged." 
 
 " A good principle, undoubtedly, but we must use discre- 
 tion and have patience ; for I assure you, doctor, affairs of 
 this kind, are oftener things of eternity than of time. 
 Although, as I remarked, I see no good reason why we may 
 not in this case soon get to the truth of the matter." 
 
 "Well, then, don't let us delay. What is to be first 
 done ?" 
 
 " I will write again to Le Roy & Barnes, stating fully 
 the particulars of the case, and asking full details from 
 them." 
 
 "Do it at once, then ; but, if anything should unex- 
 pectedly come to your knowledge, don't fail to communi- 
 cate," said the doctor, as he left the office. 
 
 Mr. Pierce immediately wrote again to his correspondents 
 in New Orleans, giving them further information and desir- 
 ing them to institute a thorough investigation of the whole 
 matter, with a view to the commencement of legal proceed- 
 ings to oust Cornell from the property, in case there should 
 be sufficient grounds for believing him unlawfully in posses- 
 sion, and sufficient legal evidence to maintain an action.
 
 THE ENCOUNTER. 287 
 
 Let us uow return for awhile to Hauu, wnom we saw 
 after his perilous escape, and numerous trials and tribula- 
 tions, finally safe on board of a vessel bound for Havana. 
 His wig had received some damage in his rapid flight from 
 the hands of the officer, and the grey locks had become 
 slightly dishevelled, so that possibly thinking it unbecoming 
 to his style of beauty, he slily set it afloat upon the 
 water, and watched it bobbing up and down on the crests of 
 the waves, like the head of a garrulous old man, till it 
 faded into a mere speck, and was lost to view. 
 
 The voyage was stormy, and his sufferings were not only 
 mentally but physically great. And when nearly ended, 
 Haun, albeit somewhat reduced in flesh, and his ugliness 
 not a whit improved, was glad to see once more the blue 
 line of mist in the distance showing that land was near. 
 
 But his journeying was not yet ended, his sufferings not 
 yet begun. Like Noah's weary dove, he had no abiding 
 place away from New Orleans ; that was his destination ; 
 there he wouM go, and he went. 
 
 Tremblingly, fearfully he launched again upon the waters, 
 for he had a hydrophobiacal fear of the element, and during 
 his first voyage had done penance enough to atone for a 
 multitude of sins, but the second was attended with less 
 uneasiness and disquietude, and was, therefore, more agree- 
 able to him. But fortune again favored him, or rather in 
 spite of fortune he landed in due time in New Orleans, and 
 the haven of his hope was won. 
 
 Hauu proceeded, soon after his arrival, to seek out the
 
 288 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 residence of Cornell, but to his great regret the latter was 
 temporarily absent from the city, although expected back 
 in a few days. 
 
 He surveyed the costly residence of Cornell, and examined 
 the luxurious appliances which use and habit had made 
 necessary, evidences of reckless extravagance, and he smiled 
 sardonically, for it gave him confidence. If Cornell had 
 been found living in humble style and plodding economically 
 along, Haun would have had less confidence of success in the 
 scheme which he had matured. It was not, however, with- 
 out alarm that he recollected the loss of his coat and the 
 package of papers ; but on examining a private pocket, hi 
 which he was accustomed to carry his more valuable papers, 
 he had found the one he needed safe. 
 
 "He depended, nevertheless, more upon the knowledge 
 of Cornell's private matters, which he had ob tamed, to inti- 
 midate or persuade, rather than to avail himself of any 
 coercive measures. 
 
 But as he could do nothing towards the advancement of 
 his object until Cornell's return, he cast about him for any 
 little opportunities that might providentially present them- 
 selves for him to turn an honest penny, for he could not 
 endure idleness, nor bear inactivity. 
 
 However, the month of September had nearly worn away, 
 and Haun had waited impatiently, when on a certain day, 
 as he strolled listlessly past the house of Cornell, as was his 
 regular custom, occasionally casting an eye up to the win- 
 dows, to discover, if possible, some familiar face, his atten-
 
 THE ENCOUNTER. 289 
 
 tion was arrested by the rattling of wheels, and turning to 
 look, a carriage richly decorated stopped at the door, and 
 Cornell, leaping from it, hastened into the house. Haun 
 recognized him on the instant, and partly stopped, and 
 debated in his own mind, whether he should enter and seek 
 an interview at once, or wait until the morrow. He deter- 
 mined to wait, and taking another long look at the house 
 and the carriage, walked hastily on, and sought his own 
 lodging. 
 
 At a late hour of the morning, Haun prepared for an inter- 
 view with Cornell. He had thought over the matter during 
 the night, and concluded that with the available force that 
 he had at his command, diplomacy was his only resort. His 
 strength was now a forlorn hope. So long as he had pos- 
 session of the person of the legal heir, he considered his 
 position impregnable ; but the storms of adversity had 
 shaken it, and now he came with the simple written acknow- 
 ledgment of Cornell, and hoped with that alone to force a 
 submission to the terms which he might dictate. 
 
 Haun went boldly to the door. He had taken some 
 pains to improve his outer man, and had doffed the sombre 
 garb and formal cut of the Quaker, in which dress he had 
 made his exit from New York, and had patronized a dealer 
 in second-hand clothes, from whom he had purchased a suit 
 of black. He had also, in the excess of his prodigality, 
 bought, at a great bargain, a white cravat, so that he 
 might, in his new dress, have been taken by the superficial 
 
 IB
 
 290 OLD HATTN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 observer as the shepherd of a flock, rather than what he 
 really was, a wolf in sheep's clothing. 
 
 The door was quickly opened by a servant in nature's 
 livery, from whose face the rays of the morning sun glanced, 
 as he politely desired to know the pleasure of the visitor. 
 
 Haun replied by asking, if his master was at home and 
 expressing a wish to see him. He was informed that 
 Cornell had not yet come down from his room, and was 
 invited to take a seat, while the servant would present his 
 name and learn whether his master wished to be seen. But 
 Haun had no idea of having his name heralded hi advance 
 of himself, and thus perhaps, run the risk of being refused 
 an audience ; and therefore, saying to the servant that it 
 was all right that his master was waiting for him told 
 him to lead the way. The servant reluctantly and hesitat- 
 ingly complied ; and closely followed by Haun, proceeded to 
 his master's room, and rapping gently, opened the door ; but 
 before he had time to speak, Haun pushed rudely past him, 
 and entered. 
 
 Cornell, with a lighted cigar between his lips, was reclin- 
 ing luxuriously upon a sofa, and watching the smoke as it 
 gently rose and wreathed itself above his head. But at the 
 sound, he indolently turned his eyes towards the door, and 
 catching an imperfect view of the intruder, turned still 
 farther to look, and then as he permitted his lighted cigar 
 to fall unnoticed upon the floor, abruptly rose and stood 
 face to face with his old acquaintance the pawnbroker.
 
 THE ENCOUNTER. 291 
 
 The blood for an instant left Cornell's face, and then 
 returned again as he attempted to smile, but the smile 
 degenerated into a convulsive distortion of his features ; and 
 he advanced a few steps and extended his hand, exclaiming, 
 with pretended warmth : 
 
 " Haun 1 is it possible ?" 
 
 " It's no other," Haun answered, confidently. 
 
 " When did you come ?" 
 
 " Not long ago," was the curt reply. 
 
 " How did you leave all of our friends ?" continued 
 Cornell, with a meaning emphasis on the last word. 
 
 "All that you feel any interest in are well," answered 
 Haun, maliciously and then added after a pause, " perhaps 
 you didn't expect me here." 
 
 " Yes, I received your letter." 
 
 " Then, as you know my object in coming, we had better 
 proceed to business at once." 
 
 "As well now as at any time. But what is it that you 
 want ?" 
 
 " You know our bargain." 
 
 " I haven't forgotten it." 
 
 " Nor the written agreement you executed ?" 
 
 " Certainly not, nor anything else connected with it, so 
 go on ?" 
 
 " Then, as your memory is so good we'll spend no time 
 in preliminaries I came on business." 
 
 " So I suppose, or else I should have directed my servant
 
 292 OLD BAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 to show you the door," replied Cornell, in his nsual noncha- 
 lant manner. 
 
 " You'd better not be too hasty." 
 
 " Don't trouble yourself to advise come, what do you 
 wish of me ?" 
 
 " You remember the bond you executed ?" 
 
 " I believe I have just mentioned to you that I do, shall I 
 say it again ?" 
 
 " That bond was for the payment of ten thousand 
 dollars." 
 
 ' I haven't forgotten that either, now if you've got any- 
 thing farther to say, why say it ?" 
 
 " I will ; I am in want of money." 
 
 " Undoubtedly ! I never knew a tune when you were 
 not." 
 
 " And I must have it." 
 
 " That is, if you can get it." 
 
 " Are you prepared to pay me the ten thousand dollars ?" 
 
 " Now you begin to come to the point : you recollect the 
 letter that you wrote, informing me you had discovered the 
 child and had her under your control, and should as guar- 
 dian enforce her claim, and that you released me from my 
 obligation as you preferred to take the whole to a part. 
 Now, sir, do you suppose that I shall pay you this amount 
 for nothing ? No, sir." 
 
 " You had better consider well before making up your 
 mind, as you might want to change when too late."
 
 THE ENCOUNTER. 293 
 
 " I tell you again, don't advise ine ; when I am in want of 
 advice from you I'll ask for it. I have considered. There 
 was a time when I was willing to pay you the amount, and 
 it's not long since either, but I am wiser now, and have only 
 to say that if you wish payment of the bond, you must find 
 a way to get it." 
 
 "I will find a way, and that sooner than you expect ; 
 you shall be turned out of your own doors into the street, 
 and the legal heir shall claim her own, mark my words." 
 
 " Legal heir ! where is she ? Why don't you produce her, 
 man ? You said you would. I wonder that you'll conde- 
 scend to beg when you have such power in your hands. I 
 Lave less faith in you now than ever. In other words, man, 
 I believe you lie." 
 
 " You will repent your words, the longest day you 
 live," said Haun, while his face became livid with sup- 
 pressed rage. 
 
 " That may be," Cornell answered, " but there'll be time 
 enough for repentance when there's cause for it." 
 
 " There's cause for it now, as you'll find to your sorrow ; 
 there's cause for it so long as I have in my possession this 
 instrument," said Haun, as he drew from his pocket the 
 bond executed by Cornell, and shook it before his eyes. 
 " This shall publish to the world the nefarious bargain by 
 which you have wronged a child : before to-morrow night 
 your name shall be posted on the corners of the street." 
 
 " You dare not do it I" exclaimed Cornell, approaching 
 Haun and glaring upon him. Haun sat unmoved, but
 
 294: OLD HAUNj THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 the firmly closed lips and the unshrinking eye that returned 
 Cornell's look, told plainly the desperate passions that were 
 at work. After a moment's pause, as if controlling himself 
 with an effort, Haun said, in a calm voice, " Cornell, you 
 ought to have learned by this time that I am not a man to 
 be trifled with. Now, I have come from New York for the 
 purpose of receiving my share of the profits of our joint 
 speculation this I must have ; therefore, once for all I 
 ask you, will you pay me the amount agreed upon, willingly 
 or not ?" 
 
 " No, I will not," said Cornell, violently. 
 
 " Then take the consequences," Haun replied, as he arose 
 and attempted to pass Cornell, with the intention of leaving 
 the house. 
 
 " Damned villain, would you betray me ?" shouted Cor- 
 nell, as he sprang lightly before Haun, and intercepted his 
 passage through the door. Haun pushed him roughly 
 aside and strode on, but Cornell, grasping him by the 
 throat, exclaimed, " You must give me that bond before 
 you leave this house." 
 
 " Let go your hold." 
 
 "Give me that bond." 
 
 " Never 1" 
 
 " Then, I'll take it. 
 
 " Unloose, I say 1" yelled Haun, as he seized Cornell's 
 hands and tried to wring them loose ; but the muscular arm 
 and firmly built frame of Cornell, was more than a match 
 for the superior size of Haun. The latter turned, and
 
 THE ENCOUNTER. 295 
 
 writhed, and endeavored to shake off the grasp of Cornell 
 who had worked his hand under the cravat of Haun, 
 and hung to it with the tenacity of a bull-dog. 
 
 " Once more, will you give me that bond ?" asked 
 Cornell. 
 
 " Never I" was still the sullen reply, 
 
 Cornell commenced twisting the neckcloth, and tightening 
 his grasp, until Hauu began to breathe with difficulty, but 
 finally, with an effort, he said 
 
 " Cornell, I am a desperate man loosen your hold, 
 or there'll be bloodshed," at the same tune putting his 
 hand to the back of his head, he drew from under his 
 coat a heavy bowie-knife, and raised its glittering blade 
 high in the air. 
 
 " Don't threaten, but hand me that paper," said Cornell, 
 givmg the neckcloth still another turn, either not observing, 
 or in his rage disregarding, the threatening weapon raised 
 above him. Haun began to grow black in the face, and 
 rising on his toes to give force to the blow, struck with his 
 utmost strength. Cornell saw the blow coming, and adroitly 
 parried it with his hand : becoming now perfectly insane 
 with passion, he threw himself madly upon his antagonist, 
 still retaining a hold of the cravat. The impetus brought 
 both of them upon the floor, and caused a slight relaxation 
 of Cornell's hold. Haun felt his strength leaving him, and 
 making one more desperate lunge, drove the knife to its very 
 hilt into the breast of Cornell. 
 ( Cornell's hold relaxed, and he fell lifeless upon Hauii,
 
 296 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 who, with his remaining strength, threw the body from him, 
 and exclaiming 
 
 " Your blood be on your own head ; you would have it 
 so," rose, and standing a moment to gather his exhausted 
 energies, left the knife still sticking in the ghastly wound it 
 had made, leaped into the hall and down the stairs, and 
 bounded towards the door. He hastily attempted to open 
 it, but to his dismay it was locked. He cast his eyes 
 quickly around for some other mode of egress, and fortu< 
 nately discovered a window opening upon a piazza ; he 
 eagerly tried to raise it, but it resisted his attempts. There 
 was no time to be lost, for the servants had become 
 alarmed, and were running up from below. He put his foot 
 against the sash, and with a crash, sash and glass fell jin- 
 gling to the ground. He jumped through the opening, 
 and landed in safety. Glancing hastily around, he started. 
 
 "Dere he goes, dere he goes ; catch him 1" exclaimed a 
 voice, while half a dozen horror-stricken ebony faces were 
 protruding from the window, through which Haun had 
 leaped. 
 
 " Whah, whah ? let dis chile come, he'll be arter him," 
 echoed the voice of another outside of the house. It was 
 that of the servant who had admitted Haun, and who, 
 in the commencement of the affray, had run to seek a 
 policeman, but who was still unaware of the fatal termina- 
 tion of the conflict. 
 
 " Dere ! down dat alley, quick de Lord sakes," answered 
 the first speaker, as he indicated with his finger the direc-
 
 THE ENCOUNTER. 297 
 
 tion Haun Lad taken. The slight delay gave vantage to 
 the fugitive, who sped away on the wings of the wind. The 
 servant and the policeman pursued, the latter making a sig- 
 nal for assistance. They saw Haun running with his utmost 
 speed, and occasionally turning his head, to see if he was 
 pursued. The officer, more accustomed to the exercise, soon 
 distanced his colored assistant, and rapidly gained on the 
 fugitive, who, conscious that he was losing the race, looked 
 eagerly about for some hiding-place, or egress from the 
 alley. He dared not venture into the public street, and his 
 only hope of escape was in eluding his pursuers, by finding 
 some place of concealment ; but none presented, and his 
 strength was fast failing. He heard the policeman, now 
 distant only a couple of rods, call to him to stop. He 
 heeded it not, but gathering his last energies sped madly 
 on. But he was unequal to the exertion. He swayed 
 unsteadily from side to side ; his limbs began to tremble ; 
 his throat was parched, his breath short and labored ; still 
 he hoped for some place of escape. Once again he heard 
 the cry " stop 1" so distinctly that it seemed shouted in his 
 ear. He turned his head partly round, and saw at a glance 
 that his pursuer was almost by his side, and that there were 
 others following, at unequal distances, after. He had not 
 taken a dozen steps farther, when a stunning, crashing blow 
 fell upon the side of his head, and, reeling an instant, he 
 sank heavily to the ground. At the same moment, the 
 policeman, with his baton in his hand, and panting for 
 breath, stood over him. 
 
 13*
 
 298 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Well, Jake 1 the old cuss gave us a pretty hard run, 
 didn't he ?" said the first policeman to another who had just 
 come up. 
 
 " Yes, I didn't think he had bottom enough, but see, 
 he's all bone and muscle. Haven't settled him, have 
 you ?" 
 
 " No only taken the wind out of his sails." 
 
 " Bleeds like a hog." 
 
 " Yes, but it was his own fault. I called to him to stop, 
 but he wouldn't ; meant to die game, I suppose ; so, I 
 thought I'd just tip him under the ear ; but, somehow, he 
 turned his head, and made it awkward striking." 
 
 " Served him right, for not holding still like a gentleman; 
 but, I guess, he'll live to be hung yet," said the speaker, 
 turning him over with his foot; " but hadn't you better stop 
 his bleeding ?" 
 
 " No, it'll do him good ; no hurry about it." 
 
 " What's he been doing ?" 
 
 " I don't exactly know myself, only that he was kicking 
 up some sort of a row in a gentleman's house. I was sent 
 for, and when I got there, would yon believe it, he was jump- 
 ing out of a window, as spry as a young kitten. I knew 
 there was something up, although I didn't stop to see what, 
 and so I followed on after him as fast as ever I could ; but 
 I shouldn't" wonder if it was something more'n common, 
 from the noise they made down there. Have you such a 
 thing as a cord about you ?" 
 
 " No ; what in thunder do you want of one ?"
 
 THE ENCOUNTER. 290 
 
 " Want of one 1 you don't think I'm going to carry him 
 all the way to the calaboose, nor that I'm going to stay 
 here all day, to wait till he's a mind to start, do you ?" 
 
 " I don't believe that you'll want any cords for some time." 
 
 " Won't eh ? did you hear that ? he's coming to a'ready." 
 
 " Fact, I do believe," exclaimed the other policeman, as 
 
 he gave Haun a punch in the ribs to test his vitality. The 
 
 ' latter drew a long breath, and opening his eyes slowly, 
 
 looked around with a bewildered air, and immediately closed 
 
 them again. 
 
 . " I say, Jake, you just go through to the next street, and 
 see if you can find a dray, and come back as soon as yon 
 can. I suppose, we'll have to treat him to a ride after all, 
 and the sooner the better, as I'm tired of staying here." 
 
 The person addressed did as desired, and soon returned 
 with a truck, on which Haun was not very gently placed. 
 He had regained consciousness, but was still entirely ex- 
 hausted, both from over exertion and loss of blood. In 
 this manner he was conveyed through the city to the usual 
 place of confinement, and delivered by the policeman into 
 the hands of the proper officer, to whom the particulars of 
 his offence had already been communicated. 
 
 And so Haun, the avaricious, cunning, plotting Haun, 
 within the dreary walls of a dungeon, meditated upon the 
 fallibility of human anticipations. 
 
 And Cornell, unstable, impulsive, but misguided Cornell, 
 lay with the death damp gathering on his brow, his race of 
 pleasure run.
 
 300 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 After his encounter with Haun, he had been raised insen- 
 sible from the floor, and gently laid upon a bed where his 
 life ebbed with the blood that still rippled slowly from the 
 wound. 
 
 All was confusion in the house, and no one seemed for a 
 time to know what course to take, but order was finally 
 partially restored, and a surgeon sent for. Fortunately one 
 was immediately found and came at once. On examination 
 he found that Cornell was bleeding internally the knife 
 having in its passage, as he judged from the direction of 
 the wound, slightly grazed the heart, and that he could live 
 but a short time 
 
 As the surgeon concluded his examination, Cornell opened 
 his eyes and in a faint voice said : 
 
 " What is the prospect ?" 
 
 " It's a serious wound," the Burgeon replied, shaking his 
 head doubtfully. 
 
 " Is it dangerous ?" 
 
 " I will not attempt to deceive you, the chances are 
 against you." 
 
 " The villain, if I could only live to see him suffer for 
 it." 
 
 The continued hemorrhage caused Cornell again to swoon, 
 and on reviving, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Doctor, I feel that I am done for, now tell me how long 
 I can live ?" 
 
 " Don't be alarmed unnecessarily, while there's life there's 
 hope," said the surgeon, endeavoring to inspire a confidence
 
 THE ENCOUNTEK. 301 
 
 which he himself did not feel and added, "you must keep 
 as quiet as possible." 
 
 " It will make no difference, my time has come. I have 
 something on my mind that I want to disclose." 
 
 " You had better keep quiet," said the surgeon. 
 
 "No 1 I wil not die without undoing the wrong I have 
 done. Bring a lawyer, he'll understand the matter better." 
 
 "I will go myself, there's one lives near a friend of 
 mine." 
 
 " No, don't you leave me, send some one." 
 
 The surgeon, then dispatched one of the servants for the 
 attorney living near, a friend of his own, and who happened 
 fortunately to be Mr. Barnesj- of the firm of Le Roy and 
 Barnes. He came at once, and as he entered the room, his 
 name was mentioned to the wounded man, who exclaimed 
 faintly, " Come here, nearer let the room be cleared. I 
 have something that I want to leave in your charge, some, 
 thing that I want you to attend to after I am gone. Now, 
 listen." 
 
 Cornell then proceeded to relate the manner of his becom- 
 ing possessed of the property that he then had who and 
 where the rightful owner was where all papers connected 
 with the estate could be found who had participated with 
 him, and aided in concocting the scheme, and in fine related 
 all the particulars of his connection with the plot, which 
 had deprived the orphan of her heritage, until his failing 
 strength obliged him for a moment to cease. 
 
 Mr. Barnes took advantage of the interruption to remark,
 
 302 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKEB. 
 
 " If it would ease your mind to know that the child who has 
 been wronged is now living, you may rely upon my assertion 
 of the fact. How inscrutable are the ways of Providence ! 
 Can you answer me one more question, which will make my 
 labors easier in complying with your request ? Where 
 is " 
 
 The attorney cast his eyes upon the face of Cornell, as he 
 was about to ask the last question, and noticing a great 
 change, called to the surgeon who had retired a short dis- 
 tance from the bedside. He hurriedly approached, and put 
 his ear near to the mouth of the wounded man, at the same 
 time taking his wrist to feel his pulse. 
 
 " He lives," the doctor answered, to the inquiring look of 
 the attorney, but at the instant Cornell partly raised himself 
 from the pillow, and gave a convulsive sob a rattling in 
 the throat was for an instant heard a quivering of the 
 limbs and all was still. The two stood a moment by the 
 bed-side, and gazed on the face of the dead, and with a deep- 
 drawn sigh, slowly and reverently turned away.
 
 HAUN IN PRISON. 303 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HAUN IN PRISON. 
 
 WE have said that Haun gazed through the gratings of a 
 dungeon upon the glories of his imaginary Paradise a 
 Paradise he was never to enjoy ; but he did not bear with 
 meekness his change of fortune. The dull monotony of the 
 hours which passed slowly away, seemed to oppress him, and 
 he longed for freedom. Immediately after his arrest and a 
 preliminary examination, he had been committed on a charge 
 of murder, to take his trial at the next term of the court. 
 It was, however, the season of the year when the courts 
 were not in session, and he saw before him the prospect 
 of a long imprisonment before he could even have his trial, 
 but beyond his trial he did not allow his thoughts to roam. 
 To him, in his solitary cell, time moved slowly. He sought 
 companionship with some of the officials who were obliged 
 daily to visit him ; but all efforts failed no one seemed to 
 have been favorably prepossessed. By day it was lonely, 
 but during the long and dreary nights it was still worse. He 
 had no remorse of conscience, and therefore was not goaded 
 by its stings ; but fear usurped its place, and in solitude he
 
 304 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 became a coward. His sleep was fitful, and disturbed by 
 frightful dreams. At first he bore up with a sort of 
 bravado, and assumed a reckless air, but that soon disap- 
 peared ; and his altered manner and haggard lock showed 
 the feelings that preyed upon him. Finding his servile 
 efforts to make friends of his keepers vain, he sank into a 
 taciturn and despondent mood. 
 
 But his was not the will to tamely and supinely submit, 
 without an effort for freedom to lie down and be crushed, 
 without attempting to rise and throw off the burthen. He 
 hugged the hope of escape, and hourly revolved in his mind 
 plans for effecting his purpose. He thought of bribing the 
 jailor, but his valuables had been taken from him and 
 retained. He thought of knocking him down, and thus get- 
 ting possession of the keys ; but this project was abandoned. 
 He thought of burrowing through the walls, but when he 
 soundea the sides of his cell and felt the solid masonry, that 
 neither moved uor vibrated under his blow, his heart sank : 
 but there was the door of his cell, secured by perpendicular 
 iron bars, if he could only wrench out one of them. As the 
 thought flashed through his mind, he crept stealthily 
 towards it, and grasping with both hands, shook it with his 
 whole strength ; but it was as firm as the rock of Gibralter. 
 His hands dropped in despair, and he turned and paced to 
 and fro, but he could not keep his thoughts from it. He 
 returned and seized the middle bar again, and attempted 
 agaii to move it first, laterally, and then perpendicularly 
 He stops, and his cadaverous face flushes. He draws a
 
 HA UN IN PRISON. 305 
 
 long breath, and waits to listen no one is near : ne applies 
 his utmost strength once more, and now he is certain of it 
 it moves ; he can raise the bar partly from its socket, but 
 not entirely out. His strength is exhausted from emotion 
 and exertion. Returning to the farther corner of his cell, 
 he sinks into his chair, and gazes at the door, like a miser 
 watching his treasure. If he had but a file to enlarge 
 the socket of the bar, or to file away the iron base into 
 which it was fitted, how easy his labor would be. He 
 searched every corner of his cell, but not a thing not even 
 a splinter of wood could he discover. He glanced at his 
 chair, and raised it abstractedly in his hand, thinking 
 whether he could not use it as a lever : as he raise 1 
 it aloft, he perceived an iron screw on the underside, which 
 had evidently been used to secure in its place one of the 
 legs. With what joy did he observe it, and with what 
 patient and untiring perseverance did he worm it out 
 with his fingers, from the hard wood into which it was 
 embedded. 
 
 How he worked night after night, cautiously and silently, 
 depriving himself of sleep and rest, to wear away little 
 by little the iron support which sustained the upright bar ; 
 and with what a fever of anxiety did he watch his progress, 
 until after weeks of toil his labors were ended. He could 
 raise the bar from its socket, and by the application of his 
 utmost strength, could bend the end sufficiently to admit the 
 passage of his lank form through the aperture so made. His 
 next care was to partially replace everything, so as to con-
 
 306 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 ceal Ms attempt from the prying eyes of the officials ; in this 
 there was no great difficulty. 
 
 And, now, Haun was urged to haste by the consciousness 
 that the term of the court was near when he should have his 
 trial ; a short delay, and his labors would be vain. 
 
 He waited now only for a stormy night, that he might 
 effect his purpose. It soon came. A tempestuous day was 
 succeeded by a night of Egyptian darkness, while the gale 
 of wind that came from seaward brought torrents of rain. 
 Haun listened with delight to the hoarse howling of the 
 wind, as it rushed round the corners of his prison. Never 
 was the gentle breeze of Spring sweeter or dearer to him, 
 than the angry gusts of the tempest that raged without. 
 Notwithstanding the violent pattering of the rain, he could 
 hear the hour of night distinctly sounded from a neighboring 
 clock. He counted the strokes as hour after hour sounded, 
 till midnight came, and then he nerved himself for the 
 effort. Bending aside the iron bar, and urging his body 
 through the aperture, he stood in the corridor all was 
 gloomy and silent. He groped along until he reached 
 a window. He put out his hand to feel his way, but it fell 
 upon the cold, rough surface of iron. He had overcome one 
 obstacle, to meet another more formidable. But he had no 
 time to lose in vain regrets. Again he passed his hand 
 around the casing of the window, and discovered that 
 the lower half of the window was latticed, but that 
 the upper half was secured only by horizontal bars at some 
 distance from each other. He stood a monienc irresolute,
 
 HAUN IN PRISON. 307 
 
 and then softly and quickly returned to his cell, and reach- 
 ing in his long bony arm, seized the chair and brought it 
 forth. As he started back, a prisoner in an adjoining cell 
 turned restlessly and groaned in his sleep. Haun stood a 
 moment breathless, but hearing nothing farther, passed on. 
 His resolution was quickly taken. The upper part of 
 the sash had been let down for the free admission of air, 
 and placing the chair under the window, he mounted it, and 
 with a great effort, by turning his head sideways, succeeded 
 in getting it between the parallel bars ; but his labor was 
 not half done his body had yet to follow. Reaching up, 
 and seizing one of the rods in each hand, he endeavored to 
 press them apart sufficiently to admit his body ; but in his 
 anxiety and eagerness he forgot the frail support on which 
 he stood and, as he wrestled with the iron, he braced him- 
 self firmly against the chair, but bearing his weight 
 unguardedly upon the side, it tilted, and tottered, and fell, 
 and Haun was left suspended in mid air. He held with the 
 clutch of desperation to the bar, endeavoring to support 
 himself and striving to cry for help ; but the howling blast 
 bore away the sound of his voice, and the falling rain 
 drowned his half-stifled cries. He felt his strength failing 
 him. He could no longer support himself he was suffo- 
 cating. His arms relaxed his hands unclasped. He was 
 dead ! 
 
 In the morning when the jailor entered, he started back 
 in alarm on seeing the gaunt form of his late prisoner 
 suspended by the neck. Summoning assistance, he with
 
 308 OLD HA. UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 great effort extricated the lifeless body and quietly returned 
 it to its cell ; this done, he gave the alarm that the prisoner 
 had committed suicide, and fabricated a story, varying 
 in many important particulars from the truth. For he 
 feared to have it known that Haun had partially succeeded 
 in effecting his escape, as this fact would have reflected 
 unfavorably upon his own vigilance. As soon as possible 
 the body was removed to the public burial-ground, and 
 without ceremony placed in a rough box and hastily interred. 
 The effects left by the deceased and which were of consider- 
 able value, were taken charge of by the proper authority, 
 and as no heir ever appeared to substantiate any claim as 
 such, they finally went into the coffers of the State. 
 
 As soon as possible after the death of Cornell, a full 
 account of the circumstances attending the same, and of the 
 revelations made by him, was transmitted by Mr. Barnes 
 the attorney to Mr. Pierce, with the suggestion that some 
 suitable person should at once be sent with full power to 
 take charge of the estate. This communication was received 
 by Mr. Pierce about the first of October, and he immediate- 
 ly laid before his client, Doctor Foster, the information 
 which had thus come to his knowledge. The latter was 
 overcome by his emotion on becoming fully possessed of the 
 facts which, though simple and common in themselves, were 
 yet the means whereby the designs of the conspirators had 
 been frustrated and their dark plottings revealed. Their 
 own evil passions had done what the agency of man might 
 have been long in accomplishing. The course to be taken
 
 HA UN IN PRISON. 309 
 
 was simple. It was necessary that some one should go at 
 once to take charge of the estate, and after consultation 
 with his legal adviser, the doctor concluded that he himself 
 would go, taking his adopted daughter with him, and see 
 personally to the proper disposition of the matter. 
 
 Arrangements were easily made ; and according to the 
 deliberate advice of his attorney, Doctor Foster started with 
 his ward for New Orleans, in order that he might put her 
 into legal possession of her estate. They travelled rapidly 
 and soon reached their destination, and with the assistance 
 of Mr. Barnes, who took great interest in the matter, the 
 necessary steps were taken and everything was speedily and 
 successfully arranged. 
 
 Their stay was short ; and as soon as the business that 
 called them there could be concluded, they took a cordial 
 leave of Mr. Barnes, having first made to him suitable 
 acknowledgments, for the great services he had rendered, 
 and after a long but not unpleasant trip again sat beneath 
 the shade of their own vine and fig tree, and rested them- 
 selves from the fatigues of their journey. 
 
 With the aid and advice of a female friend, the doctor 
 had selected a seminary of learning where he had thought 
 best to place his ward, for the purpose of enabling her to 
 perfect herself, not only in the more solid parts of a finished 
 education, but also in those lighter accomplishments which 
 give grace to the manners and beauty to the mind. 
 
 The doctor's tune, at first hung heavily after her depar- 
 ture, and he missed his accustomed kiss on his return from
 
 310 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 the labors of the day, but by having her come often to visit 
 him, he became finally habituated to the change. 
 
 The substantial basis on which the rudiments of her 
 education had been commenced, enabled her to make rapid 
 progress. 
 
 The doctor noticed with satisfaction her rapid advance- 
 ment and unusual proficiency, and his generous heart yearned 
 toward the child that he had made his own, while his ardent 
 affection was not unreciprocated by the object of his love. 
 
 Mich took the occasion of Anna's frequent visits home to 
 see her, but he was not by any means pleased to find Edward 
 Eandall also on terms of intimacy ; and a pang of jealousy 
 shot through his heart at the thought of her affections being 
 shared by another. Young and inexperienced as he was 
 in the ways of the world, yet he felt the pang Nature 
 taught it. 
 
 His boyish rival, of whom we have once before made men- 
 tion as the son of the Rev. Mr. Randall, was a student at 
 school and engaged in preparing himself for college. It was 
 the desire of his father that the son should follow his own 
 profession, but to this there was an aversion. Even at that 
 early age the son had exhibited such a reckless spirit, and 
 such a fondness for the pomps and vanities of this world, that 
 it might have been evident that his practice would be 
 incompatible with his preaching, even if he were to embrace 
 the sacred profession. 
 
 Mich continued in the service of Mr. Pierce, and rose 
 daily in his estimation. Mr. Pierce had thought proper to
 
 HAUN IN PRISON. 311 
 
 offer Mich some advantages of school, and the latter as a 
 partial compensation still devoted his mornings and evenings 
 aa before to the duties of the office. Every leisure hour was 
 occupied, and thus by close application he was soon able to 
 compete with others of the same age who had enjoyed 
 advantages far superior to his own. 
 
 But it would not interest our readers to follow the youth- 
 ful students through their daily routine during the years 
 devoted to study. Each had his trials and pleasures, but 
 the life of neither was marked by any unusual event. Years 
 passed without producing any material change except that 
 which time must always bring the change of youth into 
 manhood of manhood into old age and of old age into 
 its original dust
 
 312 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 
 
 SET EN years have passed since we bade our friends adieu. 
 But these seven years have left their indelible impress upon 
 the looks, manners, and character of those in whom we are 
 most interested. 
 
 It is Anna Hervey's eighteenth birthday, when we meet 
 again, after this long lapse of time. 
 
 She has reached the age when she should come into 
 possession of the property left her. She is in the bloom of 
 womanhood, and possessed, in an unusual degree, of the 
 graces of mind and person, which endear woman to those 
 who surround her. 
 
 Beautiful, accomplished and intelligent, Doctor Foster's 
 ward was the ornament of the circle in which she moved. 
 For her benefit, her guardian had changed his residence 
 some years before, to a more desirable part of the city. 
 
 Biddy had gone to cheer the home of one of her country- 
 men, and her duties were now performed by other and more 
 experienced servants.
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 313 
 
 Anna was surrounded by all those elegancies her educa- 
 tion had fitted her to enjoy, and which her wealth warranted 
 her in possessing. Her WISH had been, for a long tune, 
 LAW with the worthy doctor. She had but to name a 
 desire, and if within the range of possibilities, it was imme- 
 diately gratified. His health, of late, had not been good, 
 and he had partially resigned the practice of his profession, 
 devoting his time, almost exclusively, to the interests and 
 amusements of his ward. The vacations of school had been 
 spent in travelling ; they had visited, together, places of 
 fashionable resort, and the many scenes interesting for 
 beauty or association, with which our own favored country 
 abounds. Both by reading and observation Anna stored her 
 mind with a rich fund of information, thus furnishing her- 
 self with material, for the display of woman's rarest, but 
 most valuable, accomplishment easy and intelligent con- 
 versation. 
 
 The school-days were over, and she was this evening, as a 
 woman, to receive her friends for the first time. 
 
 The fitful, changing sky of an April day, was glowing in 
 all the beauty of a brilliant sunset, as she entered the par- 
 lor, attired for the evening. Slowly and thoughtfully she 
 paced the elegantly-furnished room. The buried past 
 appeared before her there. The memory of her gentle, lov- 
 ing mother, and fond father, rushed upon her, and the wish 
 that they were here to wander forth with her, side by side, 
 into the untried world upon which she was now entering, 
 was breathed forth in the long and deep-drawn sigh that 
 14
 
 314: OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 escaped her. She had thought herself alone, and started 
 when she heard the voice of her guardian saying : 
 
 " Sighing ! Is there anything in this wide world that 
 Anna Hervey wants, that she does not now possess ?" 
 
 " Why, doctor ! you here ? Where are you concealed ? 
 Ah ! I see, watching the sunset. It is beautiful, is it 
 not ?" 
 
 " Yes, but you have not answered my question. Have 
 you a desire ungratified? This is your birth-day, and it 
 ought to be a happy one." 
 
 " It is ; you, my dearest friend, have left nothing for me 
 to desire ; but, you know, that even in our happiest hours, 
 a feeling of sadness will sometimes intrude." 
 
 " Yes, yes so it is. But what made you sigh, then ? 
 Tell me, Anna," said the doctor, drawing her tenderly 
 towards him, as he stood within the folds of the heavy cur- 
 tains that shrouded the window. 
 
 " I can scarcely define my feelings. I was thinking of 
 the present, and also of the future for me ; and wondered 
 whether my happiness was to continue. Not a cloud dims 
 my horizon ; but can it last ? thought I. This is a world 
 of vicissitudes ; change may come to me as well as to 
 others. And then, my mind travelled back through the 
 many scenes of my life. True, it is short ; but has it not 
 been eventful ? I thought of the time when you took me 
 and my dying mother under your protection ; and then 
 the wish arose in my heart, that she had been spared to 
 gather with me the fruits of your kindness."
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. \ 
 
 " Not mine, Anna ; you forget that all this you are 
 enjoying, is bought with your own ; that I am your guest ; 
 I am the benefitted, not the benefactor." 
 
 " Through whose instrumentality have I been put in pos- 
 session of all this? Who has loved and protected me 
 through the years that have passed, since I was left an 
 orphan ? Can money buy affection ? No ! no ! do not 
 say that again. Are you not father, friend, all that I have 
 in the world to cling to ? Have not I seen those locks grow 
 grey and thin, since I first received your love ? and am I 
 less dear now, that I can evince my affection for you, and 
 my gratitude for your kindness, than when, as a hungry and 
 ragged child, you first fed and clothed me ?" 
 
 " No, no, Anna, child ! you know it is not so. But don't 
 speak of what I have done for you ; you know I have done 
 no more than any one else would. You have paid me a 
 thousand times by your kindness and affection. But what 
 should I have been without you ? a lonely old man." 
 
 " You flatter, doctor ; but, I hope, you will never speak 
 again of being my guest, for I shall certainly think you are 
 tired of your charge." 
 
 " Humph 1 well, I flatter you, do I ? just come and look 
 at yourself ;" and he led her before a large mirror. There 
 for one instant they stood, gazing at each other as they 
 were reflected from the glass and well they might for it 
 was as fine a picture as ever painter's skill portrayed. 
 
 Her tall and gaceful figure, arrayed in a robe of snowy
 
 316 OLD HATTN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 satin, looked more symmetrical still, as contrasted with tho 
 robust form of the plainly, but well-dressed doctor. The 
 wealth of glossy brown hair was simply bound about her 
 head, without ornament, leaving the broad forehead, ever- 
 varying cheek, and deep earnest eyes, to tell the beholder 
 of the affection, purity and intellect enshrined there. 
 
 " What do you say ? do I flatter ? No, Anna ; Nature 
 has dealt bounteously with you. Your beauty will give you 
 power ; but I am not afraid that Anna Hervey will use that 
 power unworthily." 
 
 " No, I trust not. It would be affectation in me to seem 
 ignorant of my own powers and qualities. But, I hope, I 
 never shall become vain of the form that God has given me. 
 It is something that I did not give myself, and, conse- 
 quently, there is no merit in possessing it. A pride in what, 
 through my own exertions, I have been able to obtain, is 
 much more likely to be my fault." 
 
 " Humph pride well, is not that justifiable ? I think, 
 it is, in a degree." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; but, I think, the more we learn, the more 
 we know and feel our deficiencies; and if one of the wisest of 
 men felt, after a long life spent in search of knowledge, that 
 he was ' like a boy playing with the pebbles upon the shore, 
 while the ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before him,' 
 what have I a girl of eighteen years to be proud of ?" 
 
 " You are right, Anna, this life is but the primary school; 
 we learn here but the alphabet, by which, in eternity, we
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 317 
 
 may read tilings, now wisely hidden from us. But away 
 now with all sad and serious thoughts be gay for I 
 hear your friends are already arriving." 
 
 " So I see. I hope you will be gay too. I want every 
 one should be happy around me to-night, and, as a presage 
 of gaiety, here comes Edward's laughing face." 
 
 " Good evening, Mr. Kandall we drop the Edward for 
 this evening, as we take upon ourselves the title of Miss 
 Hervey. We emerge from the chrysalis of girlhood to- 
 night." 
 
 "Ah, indeed I right royally you receive. You put off the 
 mortal, do you, and take to yourself wings ? I cannot 
 offend, surely, then, if I worship the angel the queen " 
 
 " If I were an angel, I certainly would not care for the 
 homage of one so far beneath me, as a mortal. If a queen, 
 your worship is by far too familiar." 
 
 " Be mortal then, and your own sweet self, for both 
 queen and angel are then combined, and I will worship 
 devoutly here," said Randall, in whispered tones. 
 
 " You are an incorrigible flatterer, Edward, you will for- 
 get how to be sincere if you do not practise sincerity 
 oftener." 
 
 " Never was more sincere in my life, I assure you." 
 
 " You were never more foolish, that is a certainty but 
 now leave your nonsense here come some of my friends, I 
 wish to introduce them to you so do try and be sensible 
 for one evening." 
 
 " You hard-hearted creature," whispered young Randall,
 
 318 OLD HATTN, THE PAWNBKOKEE. 
 
 as some of the guests approached. Soon the rooms began 
 to fill laughter and gaiety prevailed. The youthful 
 hostess by her own bright and sparkling sallies, and grace- 
 ful courtesy, made all feel at ease. Music and dancing soon 
 were introduced, in which nearly all present engaged. 
 Anna looked about in search of the doctor and found him 
 seated by a fair young girl, chatting in an unusually cheer- 
 ful vein and said gaily : 
 
 " You are well cared for, I see now be careful, doctor, 
 or you will lose your heart." 
 
 " I presume there is danger but wait one moment, 
 Anna, I want to speak with you," said the doctor, rising 
 and following Anna, who had immediately turned away, 
 after finding that he was entertained. 
 
 " What is it ? You look troubled," said Anna. 
 
 " Not troubled. But why is not Mich here ? You surely 
 did not forget to send him an invitation." 
 
 "Forget him! most certainly not I presume he will be 
 here. It is not late." 
 
 " What is it ? can I be of service ?" said Edward Ran- 
 dall approaching. 
 
 " No 1 the doctor thought I must have forgotten to send 
 an invitation to Mr. Lynch as he has not come but I pre- 
 sume he is coming, as I have received no intimation to the 
 contrary." 
 
 "I should doubt it very much," said Randall, with a 
 slight sneer. 
 
 " Why ? Have you seen him ?" said Anna.
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 319 
 
 " No I do not often see him. Are you and he as firm 
 friends as ever ? I have not met him here in a long time." 
 
 Certainly we are he has not called very often of late 
 but you know he has been studying very hard. He was 
 admitted to the bar a short time ago." 
 
 " Ah indeed ! so he has become a lawyer ? I was not 
 aware of that circumstance." 
 
 " Mr. Pierce says he gives the promise of becoming a 
 very successful one too." 
 
 " Indeed you are very much interested in him I see. 
 I think I should be willing to become a pauper emigrant, if 
 by so doing, I could awaken a similar interest." 
 
 " I should be very ungrateful, indeed, if I did not feel a 
 warm interest in the success of one who has always been a 
 kind friend. But you must allow me to say that I think the 
 epithet applied to him unjust, and ill-natured. He was 
 an emigrant it is true but no more a pauper than my- 
 self. For the circumstances in which we are placed in 
 early life, we are not responsible. If by perseverance in 
 the cultivation of his mind, and by his own efforts, he has 
 elevated himself in the scale of society, he deserves so much 
 the more our esteem." 
 
 " Anna, I beg your pardon I did not intend to offend 
 you. I was not aware that he was so dear a friend." 
 
 " Equally so with your own family you know the date 
 of our first acquaintance and must understand me well 
 enough to know that I will not allow my friends to be 
 spoken disparagingly of in my presence."
 
 320 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Am I forgiven ? I assure you I intended nothing dis- 
 respectful to him. The fact of his being your friend, is 
 enough for him to gain my favor aside from his own 
 merits." 
 
 "He needs not that to gain any one's friendship. But I 
 believe you never liked him very much. Is it not so ?" 
 
 " Why should you think so ? Years ago you know, I 
 often met him at your house, but since my return from 
 college I have scarcely seen him. I have no cause to dislike 
 him that I am aware of." 
 
 " No, I should suppose not ; but why are you not danc- 
 ing ?" 
 
 " May I have the pleasure of dancing with you ?" 
 
 " Not now there are others who may like to dance ; 
 come, let me introduce you to that pretty girl who is talk- 
 ing with the doctor. He will resign her to you." 
 
 " I do not care to dance, if I may be allowed to bask in 
 the light of your eyes." 
 
 " The light of my eyes must be reflected in another part 
 of the room just at present so you must excuse me." 
 
 " It is darkness when you are away." 
 
 " Edward, do change your strain ; it is becoming mono- 
 tonous," said Anna, as she walked away to a group of per- 
 sons who stood near the doorway. 
 
 Edward remained for one moment gazing after her, while a 
 strange expression flitted over his countenance, as he thought 
 of what she had said of Mich. But then, the boldness with 
 which she acknowledged her interest in him, could only be
 
 NOON -DAT OF LIFE. 321 
 
 dictated by feelings of friendship, he well know. He would 
 take care that they did not become of a more tender nature. 
 To obtain the possession of all this Wealth, together with 
 the person of the beautiful owner, was well worth a strug- 
 gle, and he at once resolved to dissemble his dislike for 
 Mich, if by so doing he could gain her favor. 
 
 The musicians had struck up a lively strain, and all were 
 in motion. Anna stood conversing with a gentleman, who 
 had but just arrived, when Mich entered the room. 
 
 He approached Anna, who greeted him cordially, at the 
 same time expressing the fears she had entertained that she 
 should not see him that evening. Mich replied that he had 
 hesitated about coming, but that the wish to congratulate 
 her upon her present happiness had induced him, finally, to 
 present himself. 
 
 " I should have felt neglected, Mich, if you had not come. 
 You, my earliest friend, should not certainly have absented 
 yourself upon this occasion. Do you know that I am free 
 to-night ?" 
 
 " I hope you may always be as free from care, and 
 that the future may prove as bright as the present," said 
 Mich, earnestly. 
 
 " Thank you. I could not well wish for more. In return, 
 let me hope that success may crown all your efforts, and 
 your brightest dreams be realized." 
 
 " I dare not hope for that. I fear you would not, if you 
 could know them all" 
 
 " Do you build air-castles now, Mich, as much as you 
 13*
 
 322 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 used to ? You used to be famous for that ; but you have 
 not told me of any this long, long time." 
 
 " Because I have been conscious of their instability ; 
 because those I most love to rear are too bright and beautiful 
 for one so humble as myself, to even hope to inhabit." 
 
 " Be ambitious, be persevering, and there is nothing 
 worthy of possessing we may not obtain." 
 
 " Is that your advice ? Is there no danger of my 
 reaching after a prize that is too high for me ?" 
 
 " None in this country. You know all are equal. It is 
 not wealtli or titles here, but mind and intellect that win 
 the race." 
 
 "With men, perhaps, it is so ; but in the more private 
 walks of life in society do you bid me hope, that my 
 own exertions will make the world forget what I once was ?" 
 
 " Let them remember, if they will, Mich ; I do not feel 
 that I am any more worthy of the esteem of my friends 
 now, than when I trudged Broadway to sell the matches." 
 
 Oh, Anna ! do not speak of it. I do not like to think of 
 those days. I involuntarily shudder when I remember that 
 episode in your life." 
 
 " Well, it is past. How many changes have transpired 
 since that time ! I think we ourselves have changed more 
 than everthing else. You have changed so very much." 
 
 " For the better, I hope ?" 
 
 " Certainly ! I can scarcely believe you are the same 
 Mich Lynch as when I first knew you. You look, talk, and 
 act so differently."
 
 NOON-DA.Y OF LIFE. 323 
 
 " Tell me how I have most changed ?" 
 
 " Well, I can scarcely explain the change to you, 
 although it is so perceptible to me. But you have lost the 
 brogue entirely, did you know that, Mich ?" 
 
 " Och ! indade, and it's not gone intirely," said Mich, 
 with the broadest possible accent. 
 
 " Not forgotten, I see," said Anna, laughing ; " but be 
 careful of your heart to-night, Mich, for I am going to intro- 
 duce you to ' some bewitching girls. You must dance, and 
 make yourself agreeable." 
 
 " You forget, Anna, that I do not dance ; that part of 
 my education is yet to be completed, and as to my heart, 
 that is safe." 
 
 " You boast, do you ? I presume I shall see you in a 
 short time sighing over some ringlet, having surrendered 
 without resistance, and unconditionally." 
 
 " Do you ? I fear you will be mistaken, then. I may be 
 woman's slave in reality. Her smiles the very light of my 
 existence ; but unless assured of a just return of my affec- 
 tions, she shall never know it." 
 
 " None so brave as those who never met a foe. Why, 
 Mich, you have never been tested, you don't know your own 
 heart." 
 
 " I fear I do too well, for my own happiness." 
 
 " Nonsense, Mich ; why, I expect you will be in love 
 with some of the pretty girls here before you leave to-night. 
 It will not be in your nature to resist their fascinations ;
 
 324 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 but here comes the doctor, with one of the sweetest crea- 
 tures in the city hanging on his arm." 
 
 " Good evening, Mich. I am glad to see you," said the 
 doctor. 
 
 Mich responded to the cordial salutation in a quiet man- 
 ner. Anna then introduced him to some of the ladies near, 
 and he was soon engaged in a lively conversation with them. 
 She left the group, to entertain some who were not agreeable 
 enough to attract the attention of the gentlemen. 
 
 Thus the evening had nearly passed, when supper being 
 announced the company filed off for the refreshment room. 
 Anna flitted about to see that none were neglected she 
 went through the now deserted rooms to be sure that no 
 shy and timid girl was left for the want of a beau. What 
 was her surprise to see Mich leaning out of one of the open 
 windows, apparently absorbed in thought she approached 
 him saying : 
 
 " Mich, why are you not in the supper-room ? rather gaze 
 at the moon than eat ?" 
 
 " No, not that exactly. But, Anna, I feel out of place 
 here. You know how ignorant I am of all the customs 
 of society. It is the truth, Anna I dreaded coming here 
 to-night worse than I did my examination." 
 
 " How foolish for you to feel so, Mich, I do not want to 
 flatter you but really you might be the envy of half the 
 beaux in town if you chose. All you need is a little more 
 confidence. Come along with me, you must go and taste
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 325 
 
 some of the delicacies that I have had prepared for the 
 
 occasion." 
 
 "It is foolish, perhaps, but you know I have never 
 mingled in fashionable society, and I feel awkward." 
 
 " You must not feel so and it is time you went into 
 society a little more than you have formerly done. I shall 
 want a beau after now, when the doctor will not care to 
 escort me, and I intend to call upon you sometimes." 
 
 " I shall be very happy to serve you in any way that I 
 am able. Perhaps, under your tuition, I may learn the 
 habits and customs of society, so that I shall not shock 
 others by my blunders." 
 
 " I think you will be an apt scholar come I will give 
 the first lesson now ; lead me to the supper room ; I will 
 take your arm thus ; see how they crowd ; there goes a cup 
 of coffee ; that gentleman was careless ; a handsome dress 
 spoiled in consequence. Here is a vacant place, I will stand 
 here ; now you go to the table and get me a dish of ice- 
 cream," said Anna, as she stopped near the door. Her 
 attention was immediately attracted to something else, and 
 she stood some time before Mich returned with the cream. 
 She received it, saying, " Now go and get one for yourself, 
 and we will enjoy them together." 
 
 " Thank you, Anna, I do not wish any. Will you have 
 something more ?" 
 
 " I am very thirsty I would like a glass of lemonade, 
 you will find it on the sideboard."
 
 326 
 
 " Mich moved off after some, and Anna went on gaily 
 chatting with those near her 
 
 When Mich returned with the lemonade, his face was 
 flushed and he seemed very much embarrassed. Anna 
 noticed it, but as others were standing near, she did not 
 question him as to the cause ; although she felt conscious 
 something unpleasant had occurred. The guests were 
 returning to the parlors, but few remained in the supper 
 room, when Anna spoke to Mich. 
 
 " Why won't you eat something ? Try some cream, Mich, 
 are you not fond of it ?" 
 
 " Yes, but I do not care to eat anything now," he replied, 
 while a shade passed over his fine face. 
 
 " What is the matter, Mich ? Has anything unpleasant 
 occurred ?" 
 
 " When you sent me for the lemonade some one jostled 
 me, and I spilled a glass full upon a lady's dress who stood 
 near." 
 
 " That is unfortunate, but never mind. Do not let that 
 mishap destroy your appetite." 
 
 Just at this moment Edward Randall came along with a 
 young lady hanging on his arm, and stopped in front of 
 Mich and Anna, saying, in his most insinuating manner, as 
 he extended his hand to Mich : 
 
 " How are you, Lynch ? Have not had the pleasure of 
 meeting you in a long time Miss Hervey tells me you have 
 been admitted. Allow me to wish you success."
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 827 
 
 " Thank you," answered Mich, very gravely, as he took 
 the offered hand. 
 
 " Where do you hang out your shingle ?" 
 
 " I have not determined where I shall locate permanently. 
 I intend remaining with Mr. Pierce for the present, as he 
 has made me very advantageous proposals." 
 
 "Mr. Randall, what have you decided upon doing? I 
 suppose you have entirely given up the idea of entering the 
 ministry ?" said Anna. 
 
 " Oh, yes, long ago in fact I never intended doing so 
 that was the governor's whim." 
 
 "Well, for once, I think you are sensible for you 
 certainly are not fit for so sacred an office you are not 
 devotional enough." 
 
 " Indeed 1 Miss Hervey, you mistake my character entire- 
 ly I am all devotion one of the blindest of worshippers at 
 the shrine of beauty Miss Hunt defend me say, am I 
 not ?" said Randall, turning to the lady with him. 
 
 " I fear my defence will do but little good, for I am not 
 well enough acquainted with you to know," was the re- 
 
 WF5 
 
 " Well, I can tell you. He is devotional, but the deities 
 he worships are changed with the hour," observed Anna. 
 
 " I protest against that you wrong me." 
 
 "Do I ? now be candid and tell me how many ladies 
 you have sworn eternal fidelity to this evening ?" said Anna, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Lynch, help me ! Is not that a leading question ? Am I
 
 328 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBBOKER. 
 
 bound to answer, if by so doing I criminate myself ?" said 
 Randall, in mock distress. 
 
 " In the court of love, I presume, the rules will favor the 
 guilty consequently you may shield yourself under them." 
 
 " You are rather severe I believe all are held innocent 
 until proved guilty. I may admire the whole sex and 
 delight in their society, and still worship one supremely." 
 
 " I think that hardly possible. If our affections are 
 centred in one whether the affections be returned or not 
 the mind cannot admit the thought of another," said Mich, 
 earnestly. 
 
 " You are too serious altogether, Lynch, you do not 
 understand woman's heart at all. To make ourselves 
 attractive to them, we must not sell our love too cheaply, 
 enhance our value by creating the doubt of obtaining our 
 priceless affection. An object is prized, you know, in propor- 
 tion to the difficulty of obtaining it." 
 
 " It may be so in some instances, but, in my own case, 
 I should doubt my power to keep a heart that had been 
 won by stratagem," said Lynch. 
 
 " So I suppose you would walk up to your lady love and 
 say, ' Here I am take me or not. If you cast me aside, I 
 shall be good for nothing to any body else/ instead of say- 
 ' the ladies are all dying for me but as a favor to you, I 
 will love you and make you my wife,' " answered Randall. 
 
 "You wholly mistake me, I should never place myself 
 in a position where there was the least probability of my 
 being rejected and I certainly think that a man does not
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 329 
 
 make himself more worthy of affection by throwing his 
 attentions and the best feelings of his heart broadcast 
 among his female friends, or more likely to be accepted by 
 a true woman, than if he had devoted himself to the one 
 whose favor he would win." 
 
 " Well, suppose that one was not willing to receive such 
 devoted attention or for other reasons it should not be 
 practicable to display those feelings what would you do in 
 such a case ?" 
 
 " I would confine them to my own breast until snch time 
 as I might safely display them without fear of repulse," said 
 Mich, looking at Randall. 
 
 " Such cool, calculating love as that, no lady would accept, 
 I know what do you say, ladies ?" 
 
 " Well, I for one would not be content with a divided 
 heart, and yet I should want an earnest, unselfish, eloquent, 
 lover; perfection is what I expect. My beau ideal of a lover 
 has never been personified I fear," said Anna, gaily. Just 
 then a gentleman from the parlor approached, saying : 
 
 " Come, Randall, we are waiting for you, to complete the 
 set." 
 
 The party moved towards the parlor as they did so, 
 Mich said, in a low tone to Anna, " Your friend, Randall, has 
 become quite a lady's man I see he seems very attractive." 
 
 " Yes, he is so, full of life and fond of gaiety ; he is an 
 excellent gallant, but a great flatterer." 
 
 " That pleases the sex, I suppose. Is that his greatest 
 charm ?
 
 330 OLD HATTN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " It may be with some, but, in my opinion it is his great- 
 est fault, not that I think he intends any to be deceived 
 by his badinage, for it is mere words froth upon the surface. 
 I think him capable of a deep and earnest affection, but 
 then he will not be so likely to be credited when he avows it." 
 
 " Nor so likely to prate of it sincere affection hides it- 
 self it is timid and shy. I should be more sure of the 
 regard of one I loved if it was never expressed by word, 
 than if she talked of it." 
 
 "You talk as though you had the experience of a lover." 
 
 " I need not that to teach me ' they love least who let 
 men know their love.' " 
 
 " Well, I am not versed in the language of the heart, 
 but presume it is so. When I have had some experience I 
 shall be a better judge." 
 
 " Is it possible that you have not yet had any experience ? 
 Have not the mysteries of love ever been unfolded to you ? 
 I supposed young ladies, surrounded as you are, by friends, 
 could not reach eighteen years, ' heart-whole, and fancy-free. ' " 
 
 " Why not, pray ? Do you think ladies more susceptible 
 of the tender passion than your own sex ?" 
 
 " No, less so ; but their vanity is gratified by the admira- 
 tion they receive, and they often give in return for a sincere 
 and deep affection only gratitude, and think they feel love, 
 which I consider the cause of many of the unhappy marriages 
 now-a-days." 
 
 " It seems an impossibility that one could be deceived in 
 their own feelings, in such a matter. I am sure I could not
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 331 
 
 be. You seem to understand the matter so well, perhaps you 
 can give some good reason why a lady should be in greater 
 danger of self deception than a gentleman." 
 
 " Custom demands that gentlemen should make the first 
 advances, and custom also has made the name of an old 
 maid the abhorrence of all ladies ; so, to escape the danger 
 of becoming one, many accept the attentions and hand of 
 the first man that offers. Their vanity is gratified by the 
 preference, and often they vow to love one for whom they 
 feel not the least shadow of affection." 
 
 " Mich, you certainly do not entertain so mean an opinion 
 of my sex as that ? Do you think that I would marry a 
 man that I did not love ?" 
 
 " I trust not ; for your own sake, but you do not know 
 your own heart." 
 
 " Do you think I would marry to escape being an old 
 maid ?" 
 
 " No, but suppose some gentleman who was fine-looking, 
 agreeable, intelligent, and very much admired by all your 
 friends, should, by his devoted attentions to you, show you 
 that he preferred you to all others, do you not think that 
 an interest would be created in you for him, and would you 
 not be influenced to accept his hand, and still not feel real 
 affection for him ?" 
 
 " No, I think not. If he was all that you have pictured 
 him, why should he not gain my affection ?" 
 
 " Because you could not esteem him, and without that, 
 sincere love cannot exist."
 
 332 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBBOKEE. 
 
 "There I think you are right, but without esteem, I 
 assure you I would not marry." 
 
 "You think you would not. But I fear you are one 
 whose fancy might be captivated, and you would think you 
 loved, especially if the faults of the person were never per- 
 mitted to reach your knowledge." 
 
 "You think then, that my reason and judgment would 
 remain neutral in an affair of marriage ? you pay me a very 
 poor compliment. I rather pride myself upon my good 
 sense, and you are mistaken if you think good looks and a 
 persuasive tongue all that are necessary to win my heart. 
 But what has come across you, Mich ? love and marriage 
 seem to interest you very much this evening ; have you 
 commenced the study of love, now, that you have finished 
 that of law ?" 
 
 " I should be a ready scholar, if I could find a willing and 
 competent teacher." 
 
 " I think you would be difficult to please you would look 
 for perfection and not be suited with less but be careful, 
 Mich, you may be the dupe of some vain, self-deceived girl. 
 I rather think you are in as much danger as I am, so beware. 
 Just imagine yourself the victim of unrequited love. Poor 
 Mich how I should pity you," said Anna, laughingly, as she 
 turned to answer some remark addressed to her. 
 
 For one instant, Mich's cheek paled with the pang which 
 Anna's careless words sent through his heart, and he turned 
 and walked away to an open window. He was not un- 
 observed. Edward Randall's keen eye had watched him
 
 NOON-DAY OF LIFE. 333 
 
 narrowly during his conversation with Anna, and, although 
 he was mingling in the dance, not a shade or expression had 
 escaped him. The secret that Mich had so carefully guarded 
 lest he should betray it, was discovered by the one he most 
 feared ; but Eandall was too polite to use that knowledge, 
 except for his own advantage. 
 
 The night waned, and the guests departed Mich with the 
 others bade Anna good night, and left her, oppressed with 
 an unaccountable sadness. Randall lingered till all had 
 left, and then remained for some time commenting upon 
 the different persons who had been present. Of Mich, 
 he spoke in the highest terms, but contrived to mingle 
 with his praises, remarks that brought vividly to Anna's 
 mind Mich's deficiences in etiquette, as contracted with his 
 own polished manners. 
 
 He then changed the conversation gradually to herself, 
 insinuating the most artful flattery in all he said. When he 
 thought he had made such an impression that his words and 
 manner would be remembered, he bade her good night, in 
 the most devoted. manner, and left. 
 
 Anna immediately sought her own room, after bidding 
 the doctor good night. Randall's pleasing face and persua- 
 sive words and voice were hi her thoughts, till weary with 
 fatigue she sank to sleep.
 
 334 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SNARING THE BIRD. 
 
 " GOOD morning, Anna. Rather late " 
 
 " Good morning, doctor. I am sorry I have kept you 
 waiting for your breakfast, but the dissipation of last even- 
 ing has made me very languid," said Anna. 
 
 " Languid that means lazy, I suppose. Well, child, 
 rouse yourself you look sleepy. You must go out. after 
 breakfast and take a long walk that will make you feel 
 better. There is but little pleasure in parties, after all, is 
 there, Anna ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I presume those here enjoyed themselves very 
 much ; but you must remember I was the hostess last even- 
 ing, and the excitement of receiving my guests, and the 
 fear lest they should not enjoy themselves was very fa- 
 tiguing." 
 
 " Well, do you feel paid for your trouble and fatigue ?" 
 
 " Most certainly I do. I feel rather uncomfortable this 
 morning, but that will soon pass off, and I shall have the 
 pleasure of knowing that I afforded my friends an evening's 
 enjoyment."
 
 SNARING THE BIRD. 335 
 
 " How many, among those here, do you suppose really 
 enjoyed themselves, and went home with none but pleasant 
 feelings in their minds ?" 
 
 "Really, doctor, that would be a difficult question to 
 answer, and I do not feel responsible for any unpleasant 
 feelings that may have been aroused. I feel conscious of 
 having exerted myself to the utmost to entertain all here, 
 and if I failed, I regret it." 
 
 " You did well, Anna. I could but think last evening, as 
 I sat and watched you, how few would appreciate the efforts 
 you were making, and how few thanks you would receive for 
 your trouble." 
 
 " Why, doctor why do you feel so censorious this morn- 
 ing ? I am inclined to think late hours do not agree with you." 
 
 " You are right, Anna, I do feel rather ill-natured this 
 morning." 
 
 " What is the cause ? Anything unpleasant occur to you 
 last evening ?" 
 
 " No, not to me." 
 
 " Who, then ?" 
 
 " Well, the truth is, Anna, I was so vexed last evening 
 about Mich, that I have not yet recovered." 
 
 "Mich? What did he do ?" 
 
 " Do ? He didn't do anything, and that is the worst of 
 it, and he got the credit of doing considerable." 
 
 " What do you mean ? Do explain 1" 
 
 " His feelings were hurt, and he was very much mortified 
 several times during the evening 1"
 
 336 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " I am sorry for that, but how did it happen ?" 
 
 " Well, he went to get a glass of lemonade for some 
 one " 
 
 " And spilled it. That I knew, for it was for me, and he 
 told me of it." 
 
 " Did he tell you what that ill-natured, proud Miss F 
 
 said ?" 
 
 " No. What did she say ?" 
 
 " ' Who is that boor ?' " 
 
 " Did Jane F say that ? I am astonished. Did 
 
 Mich hear it ?" 
 
 " Yes, certainly he did." 
 
 " What did he do ?" 
 
 " He begged her pardon, and passed on, while his face 
 crimsoned with mortification." 
 
 " Did any one answer her ?" 
 
 " Yes. Some one whispered ' not a boor, but a bog- 
 trotter just from ould Ireland.' " 
 
 " Who said that 2" 
 
 " I don't know. I had turned away. There were several 
 standing near the voice sounded to me like Randall's." 
 
 "You wrong Edward in thinking for one moment, that he 
 would make such a remark." 
 
 "Perhaps I do. But from what I heard a young man 
 say afterwards, I know that some one intentionally jostled 
 Mich's arm." 
 
 "Is it possible any one here could be so ill-bred ? I 
 thought it only carelessness or awkwardness in Mich. Why
 
 ~ ' r , ' ' 
 
 SNAKING THE BIRD. 337 
 
 should he have been selected as the subject for rude- 
 ness ?" 
 
 I don't know. You say he is awkward. Perhaps he is, 
 but you know he gives more attention to his books than 
 to the conventionalities of society." 
 
 " I think that is so. He told me he disliked coming, and 
 I presume he feels conscious of his unacquaiutance with all 
 the forms of etiquette, but he need not, for he is decidedly a 
 fine-looking and noble-minded man. He has not the polish 
 and ease of Edward, and probably never would attain it, 
 but he would soon lose that sense of awkwardness, which is 
 now the greatest bar to his enjoyment, if he would mingle 
 freely in society as he might do." 
 
 " I presume so, but whether it is worth while to go 
 through so much to get so little, is doubtful in my mind. 
 You say Edward is polished so he is but Mich's sincerity 
 is worth much more in my estimation." 
 
 " Why, doctor, do you think Edward insincere ?" 
 
 " I am afraid he is. Is it possible for him to feel all the 
 heights and depths of passion that he expressed last even- 
 ing ?" 
 
 " You do not understand him at all, doctor. His con- 
 versation was merely light and frivolous talk, to entertain 
 for the moment. I really feel very much indebted to him, 
 for he assisted in making the evening pass pleasantly, more 
 than any other person, or in fact, all of the others/' 
 
 " Humph ! Well, I am glad of it. What is he doing, 
 Anna ? What business does he propose following ?" 
 
 15
 
 338 OLD HAt-N, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " He told me last night that he had decided to remain in 
 the city, and in the situation he now occupies." 
 
 " What is that ?" 
 
 "A situation in a commission house. It will be an 
 active life, and that he will like." 
 
 " Is he fitted for the business ? He is late in deciding 
 what shall be his occupation ?" 
 
 "That is in consequence of his father's strong desire to 
 have him enter the ministry. He would not until quite 
 recently consent to any other plan." 
 
 " He has wholly misunderstood Edward's character, if he 
 has supposed he would be fit for that office." 
 
 " I do not think Edward suited for the calling, at any 
 rate, not with his present feelings, although inclination is the 
 only bar in the way of his becoming eminent in that profes- 
 sion for he certainly has talents of high order, and a fine 
 voice and manner." 
 
 "Fine voice and manner ! that is all that is necessary to 
 win a woman's heart." 
 
 " Say not so, doctor, I hope you do not think that is all 
 that is necessary to win my heart ?" 
 
 " I hope not but if not, you will be an exception to the 
 general rule." 
 
 " I shall be, then. For with me a man's principles, and 
 disposition, will weigh much more than mere appearance or 
 accomplishments." 
 
 " Child, you do not know yourself you know not your 
 weakness till you have been tried."
 
 SNARING THE BIRD. 339 
 
 " That is very true but I do know my love of truth and 
 integrity, and a person in whom these are wanting I can 
 not esteem." 
 
 " Those deficiencies might be hidden from you, until you 
 were irrevocably bound to the person seeking you." 
 
 " That is scarcely possible, I would not yield my heart 
 and hand in that unquestioning manner." 
 
 " God grant you may not be deceived, my dear girl, for 
 to you, it would be a life-long misery, to find yourself the 
 wife of one you could not esteem." 
 
 " It makes me shudder to think of such a possibility 
 but what a serious strain we have got in heigh-ho. Talk- 
 ing of husbands and hearts as though they were at my 
 command. I am too well satisfied with my present situa- 
 tion and freedom, to lightly resign them, and I hope you will 
 be in no haste to part with me ?" 
 
 " No, no, child. If I could have my own way, you should 
 retain your freedom for many years but that is not possi- 
 ble, so I must prepare my mind to part with you, for you 
 are sure to be sought by some one." 
 
 "Well, if I may wear the bonds lightly, I will wear them 
 willingly, but not otherwise. I shall be difficult to please, 
 so do not let the fear of parting with me trouble you for a 
 long time. I promise you one thing, that I will not change 
 my own name for that of another without your consent." 
 
 " I will remember that, Anna, and assert my right, if I 
 think you are deceived in the one you love." 
 
 " Well, do so. I promise you I will never go contrary to
 
 340 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER 
 
 your wishes if you will prove to me tnat your objections are 
 just." 
 
 " You say that carelessly, Anna." 
 
 " I will abide by it though, under any circumstances," said 
 Anna, as they rose from the table. 
 
 " Well, well, I shall use the right you have given me, if I 
 should ever think it necessary." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha I How serious you look, doctor. Go with 
 me and take a walk, will you ? I think you need it more 
 than I do." 
 
 "Yes, I will go get ready." 
 
 Anna left the room to prepare for her walk, and the doc- 
 tor paced the floor ejaculating in his accustomed man- 
 ner. 
 
 " Humph 1 I see it Too bad He shall not By George 
 he shall not Mich's worth a dozen like him Poor fellow 
 Weft, well." 
 
 As Anna entered the room attired for her walk, she heard 
 a deep sigh that just then escaped the doctor, and looked at 
 him in surprise, for she had seldom seen him depressed in 
 spirit, but she concluded that it was in consequence of los- 
 ing his usual hours of rest, which to him of late years had 
 become indispensable. 
 
 They wandered out into the suburbs of the city, walking 
 briskly and conversing upon different topics. Soon Anna's 
 languor had vanished, as also the doctor's depression, and 
 they returned home in fine spirits. 
 
 When Anna entered the parlor she found upon the table a
 
 SNAKING THE BIED. 341 
 
 beaut ifnl bouquet. She inquired of the servant wno had 
 left it. 
 
 " A boy, and here is a note that came with it," said the 
 servant, pointing to a delicate, perfumed note that lay near 
 it, and had not been perceived. 
 
 The doctor stood observing Anna as she hastily opened 
 the note, and he saw the flush of pleasure as she perused it. 
 
 " This is unfortunate I am sorry I was not home," said 
 Anna. 
 
 " What is it, Anna ?' 
 
 " There ought to have been an answer returned to this. 
 Edward wants me to go out on horseback this afternoon. It 
 will be delightful the air is so fine." 
 
 " Humph. Break your neck riding on horseback." 
 
 "Why, doctor, what has come over the spirit of your 
 dream you have always praised my riding, and was the first 
 one to put me on a horse." 
 
 " Well, riding with me is a different thing from riding under 
 the protection of such a hare-brained young fellow as Ran- 
 dall." 
 
 " Ha I ha 1 ha ! I shall have to tell him of that. You 
 know I have perfect command of my horse, and of course I 
 would ride no other, and besides that, there is a large party 
 going out. I think it will be very pleasant. You certainly 
 do not object ?" 
 
 " No, nonsense. Go along and answer your note. You, 
 of course, are old enough to judge of these things yourself." 
 
 Without waiting to hear more, Anna left the parlor to
 
 342 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 answer the note, accepting the invitation. As she did so the 
 doctor commenced pacing the room in a troubled manner, 
 muttering : 
 
 " Humph, I see it is no use. I believe he is an unprin- 
 cipled fellow though. I can read him, no mistake, he means 
 to win her. Poor thing. Perhaps I am deceived. Hope I 
 am. Well, well, I am a foolish old man that is certain. I 
 won't think of it any more." 
 
 The note that Anna had received was written in the most 
 faultless manner. Not one word of flattery, nothing to 
 offend her nicest sense of refinement. Randall had read her 
 character, and well knew when to flatter and when to refrain ; 
 he knew that though he might with impunity say the most 
 complimentary things to her in a jesting manner and in the 
 presence of others, it would not do to use similar language 
 to her seriously or when alone. She called it nonsense, and 
 deceived herself by thinking that it had no effect upon her 
 mind ; but Randall knew better he knew that so long as 
 he did not offend her delicacy by coarse flattery at inoppor- 
 tune tunes, he was steadily gaining in her favor by the very 
 arts which she despised. 
 
 Thus it is. Through her vanity is woman blindly led on, 
 to the adventuring of life's hopes and happiness upon some 
 frail bark, that her judgment, reason, and every higher faculty 
 of which she is possessed, would condemn, if they could be 
 aroused to exert their influence. 
 
 At the time appointed, Randall appeared mounted on a 
 showy animal he was really very attractive as he sat, and
 
 SNARING THE BIRD. 343 
 
 Anna's cheek flushed with pleasure when she glanced out of 
 her window and caught a glimpse of his fine figure and 
 handsome face. With his assistance, she was soon sitting on 
 her pony, and in readiness to start. The doctor stood near, 
 and as Anna bent her head to speak to him at parting, he 
 thought she was more beautiful than ever. The dark green 
 riding habit and hat were very becoming, and her hazel 
 eyes were sparkling with pleasure, as she whispered : 
 
 " Now, doctor, do not worry about me, I shall come 
 safely back again." 
 
 "Well, well Randall be careful, and do not let Anna 
 break her neck while you are gone." 
 
 " Never fear, doctor. Anna, your friends seem unwil- 
 ling to trust you with me," said Randall as they started. 
 
 " I never knew him so fearful of accident. If I believed 
 in omens I should say it augured something unpleasant." 
 
 " Rather think it foretells increase of hope, happiness. 
 It does to me for this is the first time I have rode with 
 you. It will be one of the bright days in ray calendar." 
 
 " I think they must all be bright, for I suppose every 
 interview with a lady is marked as a bright day." 
 
 " All days are bright, certainly when in the presence of 
 your sex but not equally so." 
 
 "Where are we to meet the rest of the party, Edward?" 
 
 "At B house, we will stop there to rest and all 
 
 return in company we shall in this way, enjoy the pleasure 
 of a tete-a-tete ride and the company of others too. Do 
 you like the plan ?"
 
 314: OLD II A UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Very well, but why did not the party join before leaving 
 the city ?" 
 
 " I for one thought this way much preferable, perhaps I 
 was too selfish in desiring to enjoy your society alone for a 
 short time. I hope I have not been too presuming ?" 
 
 " Why, Edward, how very ceremonious you have become. 
 Any one would suppose you were addressing a stranger, 
 instead of one you have known for nearly your whole life- 
 time." 
 
 " All my life, Anna, for the day I first saw you was the 
 beginning of my existence," said Edward, in a deep and 
 earnest tone, as he bent his burning glance upon her. 
 
 Anna laughed, and turned away to hide the blush called 
 up by his words and manner, saying, gaily : 
 
 " You are a very large boy of your age, then you must 
 be younger than myself, if you date the beginning of your 
 existence when I was ten years old. I do not wonder the 
 doctor was afraid to trust me with you." 
 
 " Was he afraid to trust you with me ?" 
 
 " Yes, he said I would certainly break my neck you were 
 too young and hare-brained." 
 
 "Ah I I am sorry I have not the doctor's confidence for 
 even a short ride, for I should be only too happy, to attend 
 you through life and protect you from harm. I hope you 
 do not share the doctor's feeling." 
 
 " I think the doctor's judgment in all cases reliable," said 
 Anna, archly. 
 
 " In affairs of the heart ?"
 
 SNARING THE BIRD. 345 
 
 " I presume so I have never had an opportunity of test- 
 ing it in such a manner." 
 
 " How far would you be guided by him ? Would you 
 follow his advice if it was contrary to the dictates of your 
 own heart ?" 
 
 " He would not advise anything contrary to its dictates 
 without sufficient reason." 
 
 " Reasons to him sufficient might be powerless to con- 
 vince you. A man as old as he, who has never known what 
 it is to love, is not competent to judge in such a mat- 
 ter." 
 
 " His sincere affection for me would supply all that he 
 might lack in experience." 
 
 " I think you are mistaken, but hope not. Anna, do you 
 remember the time you came to my father's and passed the 
 day, that first time ?" 
 
 " Certainly, you were very kind to me that day amusing 
 me in every possible manner. Do you remember you read 
 to me ? I thought then they were the most interesting stories 
 I had ever heard." 
 
 " Remember ! yes, I could not well forget it. Anna, did 
 you know that you made a conquest that day. That I have 
 been your slave ever since I have been in chains eight long 
 years." 
 
 " They must be rusty by this time, and easily broken. I 
 should advise you to throw them off if they are galling," 
 said Anna, gaily, attempting to hide her embarrasment. 
 
 " Anna, do not say so, bind them, rivet them firmer, give 
 15*
 
 346 OLD H A U N , THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 ine the right to claim you publicly, as you are, the arbitress 
 of my destiny." 
 
 " Edward, you jest with serious matters," said Anna, in a 
 trembling voice. 
 
 " This is no jest, Anna, decide my fate now and forever 
 I love you you know that I have always loved you. Will 
 you be my wife ?" said Edward, as he bent forward, and 
 laid his hand on the bridle of her horse determination in 
 every muscle of his face. There was no tenderness, no pas- 
 sion in his look or tone, only determination ; he understood 
 the influence he would have to combat with, arid he would 
 not run the risk of losing by delay all that he so much 
 desired. 
 
 The blood left Anna's face, and for a moment she vainly 
 essayed to use her livid, trembling lips to answer. Edward 
 saw the struggle, and, reading it favorably, his features re- 
 laxed, and in a low musical voice, he said : 
 
 " Anna, can a life of devotion add to your happiness ? Say 
 but one word to assure me that I have not been deceiving 
 myself, through the years that are past, that I am not de- 
 ceived now." 
 
 " Oh ! Edward," murmured Anna, as she bent her fore- 
 head to the very neck of her horse and burst in tears. 
 
 Edward bit his lip with vexation as he saw the tears he 
 did not, he could not understand such a nature as hers. He 
 waited for a moment, and then said, as he rested his hand 
 upon her shoulder : 
 
 " Anna, do not weep, do not let tears dim those beautiful
 
 SNAKING THE BIRD. 347 
 
 eyes. I hope the confession of my secret has not pained 
 you." 
 
 Anna raised her head and wiped away the tears upon 
 her cheeks, and without looking at him, said in a low 
 voice : 
 
 " Edward, you have surprised me. I was not prepared for 
 this. You have been to me like a brother. I have never 
 thought of you in any other light." 
 
 " Think of me then from this time as your devoted lover, 
 until you grant me the privilege of a dearer title. Will you, 
 Anna ?" 
 
 " I cannot decide this subject so hastily." 
 
 " Anna, your heart has already decided it. When I say 
 to you, I love you, what is its response ? Tell me, I want 
 no other decision." 
 
 Anna turned her head and shot one quick, shy glance from 
 under her drooping lids. The look she met, sent the blood 
 mantling to her brow, and with one sharp stroke of her 
 riding whip she made her horse start forward. 
 
 Edward looked after her, while a satisfied smile spread 
 over his features, and he said aloud : " Mine !" Then strok- 
 ing his horse he galloped on, and overtaking her, said : 
 
 " Anna, do not run away from me, for if I read the lan- 
 guage of your eyes aright, I am bound to follow where you 
 lead." 
 
 " Perhaps you do not understand their language. What 
 did they tell you?" 
 
 " That I might keep on loving you."
 
 348 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " I did not authorize them to say anything of the kind." 
 
 " That unsophisticated heart of yours did then, for they 
 surely said it. I am in earnest, Anna. I cannot bear sus- 
 pense. May I hope to call you mine at some future day ?" 
 
 " Will not the language of my heart and eyes satisfy you ?" 
 
 " Yes, if your lips will confirm it." 
 
 " What would you have them say ?" 
 
 " Simply Yes. Will you say it ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Anna, dearest girl, you shall never regret this. I will 
 be to you all the most exacting heart could wish. This even- 
 ing I will be with you, and then we can talk over our plans. 
 I see I must forego that pleasure for the present, for some of 
 our party are close upon us." 
 
 Just then a lady and gentleman galloped up directly be- 
 hind them, and the gentleman exclaimed : 
 
 " Well done, Randall ! When do you and Miss Hervey 
 expect to reach B House ?" 
 
 " In good time. We must be near there already." 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha! Randall you are losing your senses. 'Most 
 there ! You have been on the way long enough, that is true, 
 but you have two miles more to travel before you get your 
 supper." 
 
 " We do not believe in rushing madly through the world 
 at the rate that you would, but take it leisurely," was the 
 reply. 
 
 After some more bantering on the part of both lady and 
 gentleman they galloped on. The time passed in Hght con-
 
 
 SNAKING TUB BIED. 349 
 
 versation as they all rode gaily forward until they reached 
 their destination. Then they dismounted, and with the rest 
 of the party, who were all assembled, partook of supper, spend- 
 ing an hour very agreeably. The whole party then set out 
 for home in company, so that Randall did not have an op- 
 portunity for further intercourse with Anna. She was glad 
 of the relief, for even now the thought forced itself upon her 
 mind that she had very hastily decided a matter that was to 
 her of the utmost importance. She was confused, she could 
 hardly convince herself that it was not all a dream. But she 
 had but little time for thought among the laughter and 
 gaiety that pervaded the party. It was late in the evening 
 when they reached home, and when Edward assisted Anna 
 to dismount, he said : 
 
 " You are tired and it is late ; I will not come in to-night, 
 but to-morrow evening I shall come will you be at home ?" 
 
 " Yes ; good night," said Anna as he led her up the steps. 
 He held her hand for ore moment as if he had something 
 more he would say, but finally released it, remarking : 
 
 " Good night dream- of me." 
 
 Anna had been violently struggling for two long hours, 
 against the strong tide of emotion that to her was so novel. 
 Her self-control had been gradually vanishing, until now that 
 there was no longer the necessity for restraint, she burst into 
 tears as she entered the house, and without knowing or 
 caring whether she was observed, threw herself upon a sofa 
 and sobbed convulsively 
 
 Doctor Foster was there he had been watching for her-
 
 350 OLD HAUN^, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 had seen her dismount, and noticed Edward's manner as 
 peculiar, and when she came into the parlor, he started to 
 meet her, but she did not see him, and when he came and 
 bent over her, and said, 
 
 "Anna, my child, what is the matter?" she started 
 up, and, with that almost unequalled command which she 
 had acquired over herself, even in her childish days, re- 
 plied : 
 
 " I have been foolish but I hope you will not blame me 
 only this morning I was boasting of my strength ; but oh ! 
 how weak I am." 
 
 " Child Anna tell me, what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Do not look so frightened, doctor ; it is nothing very 
 bad. I have only been hasty ; but I knew you would not 
 object." 
 
 " What is it ? Tell me quick!" 
 
 " I have promised to be Edward's wife." 
 
 " Promised ! not promised ?" said the doctor in an 
 agitated voice. 
 
 " Yes, promised. But why ? Would you have ob- 
 jected ?" 
 
 " Oh, my dear girl, what have you done ? Why did 
 you ? you will regret it. Oh, Anna, Anna, why did you ?" 
 said the doctor, as he paced the room. 
 
 Anna was now thoroughly aroused ; this antipathy of 
 Doctor Foster to Edward was wholly unexpected. She 
 could not understand it ; and, following him, she laid her 
 hand upon his arm, and detaining him, said :
 
 SNAKING THE BIRD. 351 
 
 " Doctor, I did very wrong to make such a promise with- 
 out your consent and approbation. I hope, for that fault, 
 to obtain your forgiveness." 
 
 "It is not that, Anna. What do I care whether you 
 ask me or not, so that you do not make a bad venture of 
 your happiness ?" 
 
 " Do I understand you ? Do you object to Edward ?" 
 
 " I do. You will regret this haste, Anna." 
 
 " No, that is not possible, if you will now approve. Have 
 I not known Edward Randall almost all my life ? Is there 
 anything of him that I have not already learned ? Could I 
 know him better ?" 
 
 " If you are happy in your choice, Anna, why do you 
 weep ? Do you not already regret your haste ?" 
 
 " No, no ; but it has been so sudden, so unexpected ; I 
 don't know why I wept ; but it was not regret no. He 
 says he has loved me always, and I cannot doubt him," said 
 she, musingly. 
 
 " Do you love him ? Have you questioned your own 
 heart ? You have loved him as a brother ; is there any 
 tenderer feeling in your heart towards him ?" 
 
 " I certainly never thought of him as a lover before this 
 evening; but I admire him more than any one else I know." 
 
 " Admire him ! is that all ? Do you esteem and respect 
 him ? Are you sure that he possesses that truth and integ- 
 rity which, but this morning, you said would be necessary 
 in one you married ?" 
 
 " I think he does. Do you know anything to the 
 contrary ?"
 
 352 OLD II A UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " No, not positively ; but I say again, I feel confident 
 that he is not the one to make you happy. But we will not 
 speak of it any more to-night. You are tired, go to bed. 
 To-morrow we will talk it over. Good-night, God bless 
 you," said the doctor, tenderly, as he kissed her fair fore- 
 head. 
 
 Anna retired, with a heavy heart, to her chamber. The 
 doctor's words and manner had cast a gloom over her 
 spirits, which she could not resist. She questioned herself 
 over and over again of the cause of his opposition. He 
 had given no reason, and, perhaps, it was a mere caprice, 
 or prejudice. But that was inconsistent with the doctor's 
 character and usual conduct. 
 
 She lived over again the scenes of the past evening, 
 wondering at herself, that she should so quickly have 
 assented to Edward's wish. But then she quieted her own 
 fears of its prudence, by recalling their long acquaintance, 
 his many kindnesses, and evident affection for her ; and she 
 was sure she loved him better than any one else. With 
 thoughts like these, she fell asleep. How little she knew 
 her own heart. She loved Edward Kandall as she would 
 have loved a kind brother. A deep, all-absorbing passion 
 had never been awakened in her heart ; if it had, she could 
 not have thus coolly discussed the subject with her guar- 
 dian, or debated upon it in her own chamber. That 
 admits of no questioning, seeks not the gaze of others, but 
 hides the image of the loved deep in the recesses of the 
 heart.
 
 CLOUDS AND SHADOWS. 353 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 CLOUDS AND SHADOWS. 
 
 RANDALL felt very much elated with his unhoped for suc- 
 cess. He had not expected .so easy a conquest in fact, 
 had not intended trying his fortune that evening, until he 
 discovered the doctor's want of confidence in him. He had 
 often thought that Doctor Foster, latterly, was not quite so 
 cordial as before, and that his gaze was more earnest and 
 searching when they met. But he did not, for a moment, 
 suppose that the doctor could have ever discovered any* 
 thing that would induce him to interfere with his engage- 
 ment. He had been always careful, never to present him- 
 self before Anna or the doctor, when he had been indulging 
 in dissipation. Now, he felt that the prize he had so long 
 envied was within his grasp. Anna's fortune would provide 
 for him all those luxuries and pleasures in which he delighted 
 to revel. Mental or physical exertion would be unnecessary, 
 and he would glide quietly along upon the current of life, 
 without interruption or anxiety. With thoughts like these 
 filling his mind, he rode slowly down into the busy heart of 
 the city. After delivering up his horse, he threaded his way
 
 d 54 OLD HATTN, 1HE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 through the crowded thoroughfare to one of the saloons 
 which he was in the habit of frequenting ; there he found 
 two of his acquaintances who seemed to have been awaiting 
 his arrival. At his suggestion, they all retired to an inner 
 room, Edward having ordered refreshments, together with 
 brandy and cigars for the company, which the waiter imme- 
 diately brought them. As he left the room, Randall said, at 
 the same time half filling his glass and watering ad libitum, 
 
 " Come, boys, drink to my success. I am the happiest 
 man in the world to-night." 
 
 " What's up. Somebody retired from life and left you 
 their heir ?" said one. 
 
 "Better than that, Bill, I've made a conquest of the 
 sweetest girl in this city, and this very evening, too. Boys, 
 I've a notion to marry her." 
 
 " Ha ! ha 1 ha ! Hear him, Benson you marry ? What 
 the deuce are you going to do with a wife ?" 
 
 "Well, if you would let me finish what I was going to 
 say, you would discover what I am going to do with a wife. 
 She's only worth about a hundred thousand eh ! do you 
 see now ?" 
 
 " Who is it, Ned 1 Tell us, you needn't be jealous." 
 
 " No I'm not afraid of you, but I think I'll catch the bird 
 and cage her first, and then, perhaps you may see her and 
 hear her voice, too." 
 
 " Now don't mystify I know as well as you do, see if I 
 don't it's Anna Hervey, old Doctor Foster's ward, ain't it ? 
 now own up," said the one called Benson.
 
 CLOUDS AND SHADOWS. 355 
 
 " The same, there's no use denying it ; come drink," said 
 Randall, raising the glass to his mouth. 
 
 "Long life and happiness," said both of the young men, 
 us they followed his example. 
 
 " Benson, what made you guess so quickly who it was ?" 
 
 "I have heard you speak of her often, and I saw you 
 riding with her this afternoon, so I supposed of course she 
 was the one nice girl, Eandall ; too good for you." 
 
 " Why, Benson, what do you mean, I shall be the kindest 
 of husbands." 
 
 " So long as you have plenty of money, but when that 
 fails " 
 
 " That day will not come a hundred thousand will last 
 my lifetime." 
 
 " I doubt it, but of course the money is no attraction ?" 
 
 " No indeed. She's a lovely girl I begin to really 
 believe that I love her, that is as well as I could any 
 woman. I have known her ever since she was a little 
 child." 
 
 " Do you love her well enough to take her without the 
 money ?" 
 
 " Perhaps I might, and then again perhaps I might not ; 
 but just at this time I'm disposed to think not, for it is more 
 than I can do to provide for myself, let alone a wife." 
 
 " But, Randall, do you really mean to marry the girl ? If 
 yes, then I say you are a fool to marry any one you'll 
 never catch me tied to a woman see if you do," said the 
 other.
 
 356 OLD HA.UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " No, I don't believe we shall until men become very 
 scarce and then, perhaps, you might stand some sort of a 
 chance. I suppose you would not touch the thousands, oh, 
 110, not you, you don't like money," said Randall, sneer- 
 
 " I like money, but not well enough to sell my freedom. 
 I don't like being nosed about by a woman," said he, light- 
 ing a cigar. 
 
 " Randall, I don't want to offend you, but I should not 
 like to have it said that I had married a girl for her money. 
 Supposing you were the rich one, would you feel gratified 
 to know you were sought, or taken for that alone ?" said 
 the other, who had as yet taken but little part in the con- 
 versation. 
 
 " Fol-de-rol, Benson, you are behind the age ; but you 
 are mistaken. I have said it was not for that alone. I 
 like her for herself, and do not intend she shall ever know 
 or suspect that the money is any attraction." 
 
 " Let alone a woman for that. I tell you what, with all 
 your knowledge of the sex, you will find yourself deceived 
 in this respect. She will soon discover that you wanted the 
 pewter, and then look out for breakers." 
 
 " It will be for her interest to keep quiet then, if she 
 should make the discovery ; for you know the cash would 
 be in my pocket after we are married, and she will be, in 
 fact, dependent on me." 
 
 " Yes, that is undoubtedly so ; but it is none the less 
 wrong for being so ; and if I were a law-maker, instead of
 
 CLOUDS AND SHADOWS." 357 
 
 being as I am, a law-breaker, I'd have the laws changed, so 
 that every woman should hold her own property, as well 
 after marriage as before." 
 
 "You would change your mind, if you were in my 
 place." 
 
 " Not at all, sir, and if I was in your place, every cent 
 of her property should be settled upon herself before the 
 knot would be tied. I should not be surprised if old Foster 
 should insist upon your doing it." 
 
 " Old Foster be hanged. I'll look out for that. I am 
 going to hurry np matters. I don't intend to give them 
 much time for deliberation." 
 
 " Well, Randall, you will do what I would not, and I 
 never considered myself over scrupulous where money is 
 concerned, and I say, she's too deuced fine a girl to be 
 imposed upon," said Benson, rising and throwing away his 
 cigar. 
 
 " Won't you repeat your remark ? I think I must have 
 misunderstood you," Randall replied, in a supercilious 
 tone and manner. 
 
 " Come, boys, keep quiet ; what's the use ? Hang it, 
 can't you talk about a woman without getting into a pas- 
 sion?" said the one who had at first monopoh'zed the 
 conversation, and who answered to the familiar name of 
 Tom. 
 
 " Going down town, Tom ? Come, let's be moving." 
 
 " What's the use of being in a hurry, Benson ? sit down 
 and take another horn."
 
 358 OLD* II A UN, THE PAWNBROKER 
 
 " No, I'm going to the office. I was up late last night 
 and am sleepy." 
 
 " I've got a word to say before we part," said Randall, 
 whose face had become somewhat flushed by the liquor he 
 had drank, " I want an explanation. Did you say some- 
 thing about my imposing upon somebody ?" 
 
 " No, I did not, but I will say that you are going to do a 
 devilish unhandsome thing. Do you understand that ?" 
 
 " Yes, and do you understand that ?" said Randall, as he 
 seized an empty glass and threw it with some force across 
 the table into the last speaker's face. The glass was a 
 heavy one and hit Benson over the left eye, making a severe 
 contusion. 
 
 The favor was instantly returned by Benson, who, spring- 
 ing to his feet, rushed towards Randall, and before the latter 
 could guard himself, gave him a blow with his fist that made 
 him stagger. Benson drew back like an experienced boxer, 
 to repeat with his left, when, as he was about to send the 
 blow home, his arm was seized by Tom, who had rushed 
 towards them, exclaiming,: 
 
 " Stop, now, don't make fools of yourselves. Benson get 
 along never mind that diff . What the devil do you 
 care about the girl or her money either ? I tell you, I'll call 
 the poh'ce if you don't quit," said the good-natured Tom, as 
 he endeavored to separate the angry men. 
 
 The two stood glaring at each other, until Tom broke the 
 silence by saying : 
 
 "Now what is there to get mad about. Shake bauds and
 
 CLOUDS AND SHADOWS. 359 
 
 make up, boys what's the use of quarrelling ? Come, Ben- 
 son, you were the one to give offence give Randall your 
 hand, you ought to be ashamed of yourselves, you've made 
 me spill my last glass, and it was just the quantity that I 
 needed." 
 
 " Tom, don't meddle I won't. Mr. Randall will repent 
 this evening's work mark my words," said Benson, as he 
 jammed his hat down on his head, and left the room He 
 went directly to his lodgings, which were in the office iu 
 which he was a student ; but as he was about to ascend the 
 stairs leading to them, he encountered Mich Lynch, who 
 was himself returning home after spending the evening with 
 a friend. 
 
 Their offices being upon the same floor they went to- 
 gether, and Mich invited Benson to go in and sit awhile ; 
 the invitation was at first declined, but upon being repeated 
 he followed Mich in, saying : 
 
 " I expect I shall be a beauty by to-morrow morning. I 
 got a devil of a blow over my eye to-night see there." 
 
 " Why, Benson, how did that come ? have you been 
 fighting ? I did not know that you ever indulged in that 
 amusement." 
 
 " I am not in the habit of it Lynch, is it very 
 bad ?" 
 
 Mich held the lamp towards him, which he had in his 
 hand, saying : 
 
 " Well, you are a beauty. How did you get it, say ?" 
 
 " Well, to make a long story short I told our friend
 
 360 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKEK. 
 
 Randall, that lie was a devilish mean fellow, and he gave 
 me that as an acknowledgment of the fact." 
 
 " Eandall ! Do you know him ?" 
 
 " Know him ? Look at that eye I am pretty sure I do 
 know him and shall remember him, too." 
 
 "Do not get excited, Benson. Tell me how it hap- 
 pened." 
 
 " Well, myself and another went into a saloon up town 
 to get a drink, and while we were there, Randall came in, 
 and asked us to take something, and we did so then he 
 began to tell us about his good luck, and what he was going 
 to do when he gets married etc., etc. I expressed my 
 opinion pretty freely, and he got excited and pitched his 
 tumbler into my face, the edge of it hit me over the eye 
 and left that mark." 
 
 " Married ! Did you say he was going to be married ?" 
 said Mich, in a husky voice. 
 
 " Yes do you know Randall ?" 
 
 " I have met him often." 
 
 " Perhaps you know this girl he is going to marry ?" 
 
 " Who ?" 
 
 " Why that pretty Miss Hervey, the adopted daughter of 
 Doctor Foster." 
 
 Mich started from his chair and went to the window ; for 
 an instant he pressed his hand upon his heart. 
 
 " What is it, Lynch ? What did you hear ?" 
 
 "Nothing, go on. Tell me all he said?" said Mich, 
 returning to his seat with forced composure.
 
 CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE. 361 
 
 " Lynch, what is the matter ? you are as white as a 
 
 i 
 
 ghost." 
 
 " Severe pain in my side go on with your story." 
 
 " You had better go to bed." 
 
 " No, no, go on. It's past, now. Tell me all about 
 that ?" 
 
 " If my friend had not interfered, we'd have had a regular 
 scrimmage. I wish I'd made my mark on his face, as he 
 has oil mine, it might hare hurt his credit with his lady 
 love. She don't know what a contemptible puppy he is, or 
 she would not have him, I know." 
 
 " Who did you say it was ?" 
 
 " Miss Hervey Anna Hervey, I believe her name is. Do 
 you know her ?" 
 
 " Yes, I know who you mean. Did Randall say he was 
 going to marry her ?" 
 
 " Yes, and her money is all that he wants. It made me 
 mad to hear him brag so about it ; he says she is worth a 
 hundred thousand. Is it so ?" 
 
 " She is wealthy ; but he was only boasting. He did not 
 say they were engaged ?" 
 
 " Yes, they were out on horseback together this after- 
 noon, I saw them, and he proposed and she accepted ; so 
 he said." 
 
 " I don't believe it." 
 
 " Why, Lynch, what is the matter ? let me get you some- 
 thing. Are you faint ?" 
 
 " No, I'll turn in for the night I don't feel very well." 
 16
 
 362 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Had I not better get you something, or perhaps stay 
 with you ?" 
 
 " No, I thank you. I shall feel better soon." 
 " Well, good night you must not study so hard, Lynch." 
 " I don't intend to for awhile good night " 
 When the door closed upon his friend, and Mich was 
 alone, he gave way to the agitation that had almost un- 
 manned him ; he sank upon a seat, and resting his head 
 upon a table, wept. Yes, wept ; tears that men seldom shed, 
 were wrung from his almost bursting heart. Then the 
 intense and devoted love, which, growing with his growth, 
 and strengthening with his strength, had lain hidden in the 
 secret chambers of his soul, was suddenly awakened to life, 
 and he became conscious that the hope of one day calling 
 her his, had stimulated him through the struggles of the 
 past. Now every thought was merged in the overwhelm- 
 ing one that she loved another that she was lost to him ; 
 and then his thoughts reverted to the successful rival, who 
 had won the prize, or rather to him who had clandestinely 
 stolen from him his treasure, and for a moment a feeling of 
 resentment and anger banished other feelings. Starting up, 
 he paced the office with clenched hands, and compressed 
 lips ; for a few moments the violence of his emotions choked 
 his utterance but as it gradually subsided he exclaimed : 
 
 " Vile, mercenery wretch. He does not, he cannot love 
 her as I do 1 I'll thwart him love him ? can it be she loves 
 him ? Oh, God ! I caunot, I will not give her up but if 
 she does ? He cannot make her happy. Sho will not, can-
 
 C LOUDS AND SUNSHINE. 363 
 
 not loye him if she knows his motives. She will despise 
 me if I tell her. No, that will not do. But she must know 
 his object can I, dare I approach her for this purpose. I 
 who have loved her so long, and so well must I lose her 
 must I give her up ?" and he threw himself upon a sofa, giving 
 way to the agony of despair then came a doubt of the truth 
 of what he had heard and hope inspired him again. Then 
 Anna's words and manner of the evening previous were recall- 
 ed to mind, to deprive him of even that reliance. Thus 
 through that whole night, did Mich yield alternately to hope, 
 doubt, anger, and despair. It is not to be wondered at, that 
 when Mr. Pierce entered the office in the morning, he was 
 startled by Mich's haggard appearance, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Why, Mich, what is the matter ? are you sick ?" 
 
 " No, sir yes I mean I don't feel very well." 
 
 " No, Yes. Which is it Mich ? You certainly look as 
 though you had not slept any." 
 
 " I have not ; but I feel better now." 
 
 " Well, you had better go up to the house ; you have not 
 been to breakfast, have you ?" 
 
 " No, I do not wish any." 
 
 " Mich, are you in any trouble ?- If you are let me know 
 it. What is it ?" 
 
 "Nothing, nothing, sir, only I am not in very good 
 spirits just now, a little annoyance, nothing more," said 
 Mich, endeavoring to conceal his emotion from the piercing 
 gaze of his benefactor. Mr. Pierce approached him, and 
 laying his hand upon his shoulder, said :
 
 364 OLD H A U N , THE P A W N B K O K E K 
 
 " Mich, you are not dealing frankly with me ; there is 
 something more. I hope you have not been led into any- 
 thing foolish. Tell me what it is ? Yon know, Mich, you 
 can rely upon me." 
 
 " Nothing that you need fear. I have done nothing that 
 I need be ashamed of. I am only blue this morning. I'll 
 go out and take a walk, and perhaps I shall feel better." 
 
 " Very well ; you had better go and get some breakfast," 
 said Mr. Pierce, scrutinizing him very closely as he rose and 
 left the office. He saw plainly that something unusual had 
 occurred ; for he had never before seen Mich in such a state 
 of mind, but he knew him to be so strictly correct in all 
 his habits, that the suspicion, which for one moment crossed 
 his mind, that he might have been tempted to commit some 
 indiscretion, was quickly banished by Mich's words, and he 
 concluded that Mich was temporarily indisposed, and so let 
 the subject rest. 
 
 Mich wandered on, gloomy and despondingly, towards his 
 home. All life and energy had suddenly left him. There 
 was now no incentive to study, to labor, to strive with the 
 world. 
 
 Arriving at home, he was met by his mother with an 
 anxious countenance, for his want of punctuality had 
 aroused her fears for his safety. He complained of head- 
 ache, and listened patiently to his fond parent's prescriptions 
 for his relief, refusing everything but a cup of coffee. Tak- 
 ing that, he left and strolled to the upper part of the city, 
 without any definite object in view, except to drive away
 
 CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE. 365 
 
 disagreeable thoughts ; but he was instinctively led toward 
 Doctor Foster's residence, and was startled when he found 
 himself in its immediate vicinity, and the color deepened in 
 his cheek when he saw the worthy doctor and Anna approach- 
 ing him on the side-walk. His first impulse was to turn 
 away, lest he should betray his feelings ; but then, the 
 consciousness that his conduct would appear strange and be 
 misunderstood, made him as suddenly decide to endeavor to 
 meet them as usual. 
 
 " Good morning, Mich ! Going to give us a call, are 
 you not ?" said the doctor. 
 
 " No, I am obliged to you, I cannot stop." 
 
 " Why, what calls you up town so early. Does some poor 
 fellow want his will drawn up ?" 
 
 "No, but for a rarity, I have been indulging myself in a 
 morning walk." 
 
 " Well, then, you certainly need not be in haste. Come, 
 turn back, and go in with us." 
 
 " Thank you, doctor, I have idled away as much time as 
 I ought to already." 
 
 " I wish you had come along earlier, we might have 
 enjoyed our walk together, and, perhaps, I should have 
 had some one to talk to me. I have had a dumb companion 
 this morning." 
 
 " I hope you are well this morning, Miss Hervey ?" 
 
 " Miss Hervey is very well, indeed, Mr. Lynch." 
 
 " Humph ! how polite Miss Hervey Mr. Lynch. 
 What has Become of Anna and Mich ? Come, unbend a
 
 366 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 little. Any one would suppose you were strangers. Anna, 
 do talk. If I did not know your conscience was troubling 
 you, I should certainly think you were sick." 
 
 " Pshaw, doctor, how you talk," said Anna, with a forced 
 laugh. " Conie, Mich, go in and sit for a few moments. I 
 want you should tell me how you enjoyed the party night 
 before last ?" 
 
 " Well, I will, for a few moments ; but I must not stay 
 long." 
 
 As they entered the house, Anna unloosed her bonnet 
 and shawl, throwing them aside, carelessly, as she seated 
 herself in the parlor. 
 
 Mich thought she had never before appeared so beautiful. 
 The exercise of walking had brought the rose to her pale 
 cheek, and in her eyes was a sad, thoughtful expression 
 that he had not seen there for years. It reminded him of 
 the time when he had stood by her side and looked upon 
 her dead father, and again when her mother had been hid- 
 den from her sight. It surprised him ; he expected to have 
 seen her radiant with smiles of new-found happiness. As 
 he looked, he doubted the story he had heard. Forgetful 
 of all but his own thoughts, he sat gazing into Anna's face, 
 until she, turning her eyes upon him, met his earnest look, 
 and then her deepening color recalled him to himself. 
 Embarrassed, he took a book from off a table near, and 
 turned its leaves, although he did not read its pages. 
 
 " You have not told me, Mich, how you liked my birth- 
 day party."
 
 CLOUDS AND SUNSHINE. 367 
 
 " Everything was very handsome." 
 
 " Everybody you mean ; but did you enjoy yourself ? 
 Why don't you praise me and my talent to entertain ?" 
 
 " Have you become so accustomed to flattery that other 
 language has no charms for you ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, that is it, Mich," said the doctor, just enter- 
 ing ; " flattery and lies are the bait the young jack-a-napes 
 use now-a-days to catch young girls' hearts. I hope you 
 will never stoop to the use of such means." 
 
 " Doctor, what do you mean ?" said Anna. 
 
 " I mean just what I say. Mich, never flatter a 
 woman." 
 
 " I have nad but little intercourse with ladies, and do 
 not know so well, perhaps, as you, the influence of well- 
 timed flattery ; but, I think, the heart I should value, could 
 not thus be won." 
 
 " Who said anything about winning hearts ? Every 
 foolish thing I say of late, the doctor takes up in earnest. 
 Mich, the doctor scolds me sometimes more than he did 
 when I was a little girl." 
 
 " Oh, Anna !" 
 
 " There, do not magnify that now ; do not think for one 
 moment that I would be scolded less. I only wanted Mich 
 to praise my party a little ; I think that is excusable, as it 
 is the first I ever gave. Mich, it is not right for you to 
 jump at the conclusion, that because I solicited a little 
 praise, I would be satisfied with nothing else. You know 
 that I do not like flattery. Just praise is not flattery."
 
 368 OLD H A r N , THE PAWNBBOKEB. 
 
 " Who shall be the judge ? A woman's vanity induces 
 her to believe that the most fulsome flattery is truth itself. 
 Praise a woman's face and figure, Mich, and you pave a 
 broad way to her heart," said the doctor. 
 
 " You are ungenerous, doctor. These are not your real 
 sentiments ; you feel out of humor with me to-day, I am 
 afraid, and in consequence the whole of my sex suffer. Is 
 it not so ?" 
 
 " Humph ! I must confess I do feel ill-natured." 
 
 " Mich, you must not believe that what the doctor says 
 is true of all. I hope there are many who, like myself, des- 
 pise the flatterer." 
 
 " Tell me, truly, do you despise the flatterer ?" Mich 
 asked. 
 
 " I do from my heart ; and I know that it could not 
 have any influence with me, unless to make me dislike the 
 flatterer." 
 
 " Anna Hervey, how can you say that ? Two days ago 
 I would have believed you sincere, but you are not now. 
 No, I wish I could believe you were," said the doctor, with 
 emotion, as he rose to leave the room. 
 
 For one moment every particle of color fled from Anna's 
 cheeks and lips ; but the deathly paleness was quickly suc- 
 ceeded by the crimson flush of anger. Rising from her 
 seat, she drew her tall figure up with all the dignity of a 
 queen, and approached Doctor Foster, while her eyea 
 glowed with an unnatural brilliancy, and was about to 
 speak, when Mich started from his seat, saying, hast.'ly :
 
 CLOUDS AND SHADOWS. 369 
 
 " Anna, think before you speak. Excuse me, I will 
 leave." 
 
 " No, stay for one moment, stay. Your good opinion 
 1 value, and I should surely lose it, if you believed what the 
 doctor has said." 
 
 " No, Anna, I do not wish to intrude upon your secrets. 
 Do not think, for one moment, that I would harbor an 
 unkind thought of you ; but be careful that you are not 
 deceived. Good morning," said Mich, as he hastily left the 
 house. He dared not remain longer, lest he should betray 
 the struggle in his own mind. 
 
 He felt convinced now that what Benson had told him 
 was true ; and he also knew, from the doctor's manner and 
 words, that he was not at all pleased, and that he thought 
 that Anna had been won by flattery. He pondered over all 
 that he had heard, while on his way back to the office, and 
 debated in his mind what his duly might be. He knew now 
 that he must resign all thought of Anna ; but he would not 
 permit her to be deceived, and her whole life's happiness 
 risked, if by his endeavors this great danger could be 
 averted. He had been her friend and confidant since her 
 childhood, and should he resign his privilege to watch over 
 and protect her now that she most needed it ? No. He 
 would sacrifice his own feelings his own hopes but she 
 should not be made unhappy, as he knew she would be, if, 
 in her blindness, she should unite her destiny with so artful 
 a deceiver as Randall had proved himself to be. 
 
 He resolved to watch closely, and discover if what Ben- 
 16*
 
 370 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 son had said was really true. If Randall was worthy of 
 her, he would not lay a straw in the way of her happiness. 
 He would yield her up without hesitation. It was a great 
 struggle to determine upon this. But Mich's unselfish, 
 generous, noble soul, was equal to the exertion.
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 371 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 
 
 AFTER Mich had left the house, Anna went in search of 
 her guardian. She found him in deep thought, pacing the 
 library. When she entered he came directly to her, and 
 said : 
 
 " My dear girl, can you excuse your old friend's abrupt- 
 ness ?" 
 
 The doctor's manner dispelled every vestige of anger 
 from Anna's mind. She could not feel angry with him long, 
 for she well knew that it was the interest he felt in her 
 welfare, that made him often abrupt, even to rudeness and, 
 notwithstanding it was very jarring to her sensibilities, she 
 was willing to overlook the consequences to herself, in view 
 of the motive. She held out her hand, saying : 
 
 " I can excuse everything but your doubt of my sincerity. 
 Do you, can you believe that I would willingly blind either 
 you or myself ? let us understand each other. I have avoid- 
 ed speaking upon a subject that has occupied all of our 
 thoughts this morning, because I have felt that it was dis-
 
 372 OLD II A UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 agreeable to you, but this must not be I cannot rest under 
 your displeasure. Tell me plainly your objections to Edward 
 Randall. Why do you think so meanly of me as to suppose 
 that he has won my consent to marry him by flattery alone ? 
 Come, do sit down here on the divan with me, and let us 
 talk soberly and without excitement, of what so much con- 
 cerns my happiness." 
 
 " Anna, you do not love him as you ought ; it is not natural 
 it is not possible for you to reason thus calmly upon this 
 subject. It is contrary to all I ever knew or heard of 
 woman's nature." 
 
 " Perhaps I am different from every other woman. But 
 why is it contrary to woman's nature ? Cannot woman, as 
 well as man, lay aside romance and let reason have sway ?" 
 
 " Not where the affections are concerned ; neither manner 
 woman can do it entirely." 
 
 "From experience I cannot judge, except in this one 
 instance but I surely can and will lay aside all romance, 
 and judge of the right or wrong, of the step I propose tak- 
 ing. I have been hasty, but that error is not irretrievable, 
 and although I should feel humbled to be obliged to acknow- 
 ledge that I do not know my own heart, or that my reason 
 and judgment cannot confirm its choice still I can do it, 
 and will, if you will convince me that you have just grounds 
 for your opposition." 
 
 " Well, first, Anna, you said that you would despise 
 flatterers. I offended you by doubting your sincerity." 
 
 " Not so much for the expression as the doubt and that
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 373 
 
 you should refer in the presence of another to a subject 
 which I consider a secret." 
 
 " Why, Anna ! I do not understand you not tell Mich ? 
 He who has been your firm friend and confidant for so 
 mauy years is he now to be excluded?" 
 
 " Doctor, you must remember we are children no longer. 
 I could not converse with him as freely now as I have here- 
 tofore done and besides that, I know that Randall and 
 Mich do not feel very friendly to each other." 
 
 " Anna, confess that you think that Mich would not 
 approve your choice ?" 
 
 " Well, I do not know but I have that feeling. But it 
 is a matter that does not, concern him, and besides that, I 
 think Mich has not seemed as friendly and cordial to me of 
 late as usual, and I had rather he should not know of my 
 engagement." 
 
 " Humph ! Mich not as friendly ? No, I suppose not. 
 Well well." 
 
 " Never mind Mich now, doctor, let us talk over my own 
 affairs. You are decidedly opposed to my engagement with 
 Edward Randall ; let us understand the matter now tell 
 me your objections fully ?" 
 
 " I will do so. In the first place, you know nothing of 
 his habits. He has been away from here almost entirely 
 for three or four years now, Anna, what do you know of 
 his conduct during his absence ?" 
 
 "Why, nothing in particular but you know we have 
 kept up a correspondence, and judge from his letters."
 
 3T4r OLD II A UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " What can yon know by them ?" 
 
 " I know hini to be agreeable, talented, and honorable." 
 
 " You know his language is." 
 
 " Doctor, do not talk blindly. Do you know anything 
 against his moral character ?" 
 
 " Anna, I will talk plainly I do not know positively any- 
 thing prejudicial to him, but I judge from many little things. 
 What I most dislike in him, is his practice of attempting to 
 flatter everybody with whom he comes in contact ; now no 
 sincere, generous, upright nature will do this. Hear me 
 further. He does not waste his blandishments upon ladies 
 alone, but also upon gentlemen. I have observed him 
 closely he comes around me with his cajoling that he 
 may secure my good will. Now, Anna, if he were frank, 
 open-hearted, and manly, I should like him much better." 
 
 "Doctor, you censure that fault very severely I do not 
 think an honest and upright character incompatible with a 
 flattering tongue. I will acknowledge that Eandall is very 
 much given to complimenting, but that is a folly of youth. 
 Is that your objection ?" 
 
 "No, indeed ! He has no permanent business; from re- 
 marks his father has let drop, I judge that his wavering, 
 unstable purposes have caused a great deal of trouble. 
 Now, Anna, believe me, for my experience qualifies me to 
 iudge better than you, that no man can be either useful, 
 respected, or contented, without some regular employment 
 something to occupy his time and thoughts." 
 
 " I suppose you are right but Randall has some employ-
 
 PRESSING TIIE SIEGE. 375 
 
 ment. He has been offered an interest in the extensive 
 forwarding and commission house of the Messrs. Jones, and 
 as soon as he is able to furnish a certain amount of capital, 
 he is to be taken as a partner." 
 
 " A certain amount of capital ! and where pray is he to 
 get that capital, living as he does now, and indulging in 
 all the follies and expenses of a man of fortune ? when do 
 you suppose will he accumulate anything ?" 
 
 "He has a large salary; I presume he does not spend it 
 all. I know you judge him too harshly I do not think 
 he is extravagant." 
 
 " Don't eh ? child, you don't know anything about it 
 *arge salary ! How much, pray ? But there's no use talking 
 you will not believe anything I may advance." 
 
 " Doctor, do have patience with me you cannot suppose 
 I will take mere suppositions for facts, in a matter of such 
 vital importance to myself. Have you nothing else against 
 him ?" 
 
 " Yes, I believe he is deceiving you. If you had not 
 money he would never have hovered about you as he has 
 done for two months past. Your fortune " 
 
 " No, no ! I will not credit that. He could not be so 
 base you cannot believe it. Say, doctor, you do not think 
 that ?" 
 
 " I do, Anna, from my soul I do. Edward Randall would 
 not have sought your hand if you had been a poor girl." 
 
 " I do not believe it am I nothing of myself? Has the 
 friendship of years been bought with money ? Was not he
 
 376 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 the playmate of my childhood my companion before I had 
 anything but what your love provided me ? And shall I 
 believe now, since the friendship of childhood has ripened 
 into love, that it is merely selfish ? no, I will not ; you wrong 
 him. If I could believe him influenced by so base a motive, 
 I should surely lose all respect for him. For the fortune 
 that has been bestowed upon me, I do not care ; for that, of 
 course, will belong to my husband, whoever he may be, but 
 I would be sincerely, honestly loved for myself alone. If 
 not, what guarantee have I of continued happiness ? wealth 
 may be lost by some accident. That is a frail foundation to 
 build happiness upon. But I cannot believe it of him." 
 
 " What will convince you, Anna ? Are you willing I 
 should test him ?" 
 
 "Yes, anything. I know he will prove true but you 
 wrong him by the suspicion." 
 
 " I hope I do, and that I may find myself mistaken. But 
 in order that his motives may be correctly judged, he must 
 remain in ignorance of my suspicions, for otherwise he will 
 be on his guard now, Anna, be guided by me. You are 
 young, too young to marry yet and if he urges an early 
 marriage, which I am convinced he will do I want you to 
 object. Do not refer to your property hi any way, let him 
 alone and see what he will do." 
 
 " Oh, doctor ! why have you filled my mind with suspi- 
 cions of his sincerity ? You say I do not love him. If you 
 could know the pain you have given me, by exciting distrust, 
 you would recall your words."
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 377 
 
 " Anna, do not weep. I beg of you do not let what I 
 have said make you unhappy, for if he is really worthy of 
 your love, hti will prove it, and you will feel so much the 
 more secure of happiness." 
 
 " It will be ungenerous for me to keep from his know- 
 ledge my suspicions." 
 
 " Not at all believe him perfect until he proves himself 
 otherwise. Forget what I have said for the present ?" 
 
 " I wish I could, but that is not possible. What would 
 you have me do ?" 
 
 " Nothing, leave him to me. All I ask of you is to make 
 no more promises, form no more plans without my know- 
 ledge or advice. Will you do this ?" 
 
 " Yes, I am perfectly willing to do so. I am sorry I did 
 make any promises without your consent. But I did not 
 dream of any opposition or objections from you." 
 
 11 We'll let that pass. Dry your eyes, now, I do not like 
 to see tears in them. You know I would not cause you 
 pain, except for your own good. I believe that you are 
 deceived led away by smooth words and a fine exterior, and 
 would you have me could you expect I would sit quietly 
 by, while I entertained this belief ?" 
 
 " No, I do not doubt the kindness of your motives, but 
 I cannot believe that there is any foundation for such a 
 belief." 
 
 " Humph, unbelieving still convince a woman against 
 her will, and she remains of the same opinion still." 
 
 "Prove to me conclusively that his love is mercenary
 
 378 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 and though it breaks my heart, I will resign him. I would 
 not love him, no 1 I should scorn him, hate him for his 
 meanness." 
 
 " If I do not prove it to you, beyond a doubt, I will place 
 your hand in his and bid you God speed but do not 
 let us talk of it any more let me order the carnage for 
 you, Anna, you said you had some shopping to do to-day, 
 did you not ?" 
 
 " I did think of going out, but I will postpone it until to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Better go to-day I will order the carriage you must 
 not go and brood over what I have said. Remember, you 
 are to forget it all until I choose to call it to your recollec- 
 tion, will you ?" 
 
 " I will try to, but I do not expect to succeed." 
 
 " All I ask of you is to delay the ratifying of your engage- 
 ment ?" 
 
 " I have promised I would. If you will go with me I will 
 go out." 
 
 " You had better go and get some of your young friends 
 to go with you ?" 
 
 " I do not feel like entertaining or being entertained to- 
 day, and I know you will excuse my dullness. I do not 
 like to go alone will you go ?" 
 
 " Yes, if you wish me to." 
 
 Anna left the library to prepare herself for her shopping 
 excursion, and the doctor ordered the carriage, in which 
 they were soon seated, and rolled along the broad avenue,
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 370 
 
 and joined the rapid current which ceaselessly runs through 
 the main artery of the commercial city. 
 
 Several hours were passed in the selection of the different 
 articles she needed, and in chatting with acquaintances 
 whom she chanced to meet, when she returned home feeling 
 in better spirits. 
 
 After dinner, she took a new publication which she had 
 that morning purchased, and endeavored to become interest- 
 ed in it, but it was a vain attempt, for she was constantly 
 glancing out of the window in expectation of a call from 
 him who had been the subject of conversation with the 
 doctor, longing, yet dreading to see him strange as it may 
 seem. She could not banish from her memory the conver- 
 sation of the morning, and though she was very unwilling to 
 believe the doctor's suspicions well founded, still they had a 
 great influence with her, and she could not divest herself of 
 the doubts and fears they had raised in her own mind. 
 
 All that had been said to her by Randall, was dwelt upon 
 and reviewed again and again, to convince herself that she 
 was loved as she wished to be ; while thus engaged she 
 heard some one enter the hall. She started from her seat 
 to meet him, for she knew his step, but sank back again, 
 as that dreadful doubt rushed through her mind, and instead 
 of the cordial happy greeting he expected, he was met in a 
 chilling manner. This astonished him for a moment, but 
 his vanity soon accounted for it satisfactorily to himself. 
 He concluded she did not wish to seem too forward, and 
 that she preferred he should act the devoted lover, which
 
 380 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBKOKEB. 
 
 lie was quite willing to do. Advancing, in the most eager, 
 earnest voice, he said, as he offered his hand : 
 
 " My dearest girl, it seems ages since I saw you I have 
 done penance this day in staying away from you come, sit 
 down near me. Let me hold this fair hand in mine. Why, 
 Anna ! why so distant ? you do not fear me, certainly. 
 Anna, what does this coldness mean ? Do you regret pro- 
 mises you made me last night ?" 
 
 " No, no. But free my hand, I would rather sit by the 
 window. It will be a beautiful moonlight this evening." 
 
 " Would you like to walk, Anna ? it will be pleasant, I 
 think." 
 
 " No, I thank you, I prefer to remain in the house. I 
 have been out most of the day, and the doctor considers the 
 night air unhealthy." 
 
 " Does he think your ride last evening had any injurious 
 effects upon you ?" 
 
 " No, not that I am aware of." 
 
 " Have you told him of your promise to me ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What does he say ? I hope I shall find favor in hia 
 sight." 
 
 " He thinks I have been hasty." 
 
 " Do you wish you had been less so ?" 
 
 " I don't know. I hope I never shall have cause for wish- 
 ing so." 
 
 " Anna, do you doubt my love ? Can vows, protestations 
 of devotion, and sincerity, add to your confidence in me ?"
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 381 
 
 " No, no, I ask not for them, I prefer that your whole 
 life may be an evidence of all that." 
 
 " It shall be give me but the right to be near you, and 
 every wish of your heart shall be gratified. Say, when will 
 you be mine ? Name an early day, for, until I can claim 
 you as my bride, I shall not be able give my thoughts or 
 attention to anything else." 
 
 " Oh, Edward ! you must not speak of marriage, yet. I 
 am too young to think of such a thing for a long time 
 yet." 
 
 " Too young ! You arc not too young to love. Anna, do 
 you love me ? If so, why wish to put off the day when we 
 may be all the world to each other ?" 
 
 " Why such haste, cannot you come often and see me ? 
 may we not enjoy each other's society every evening ? You 
 can come here as often as you like, I will not debar you that 
 privilege." 
 
 " Oh, Anna Hervey ! you do not love me. Anna, come 
 and sit here by me let me talk to yon. You do not, can- 
 not understand or know the love that consumes me, if you 
 would be content with such a measure of intercourse. Come, 
 Anna, out of that cold moonlight." 
 
 " Edward, you are exacting, but to please you I will 
 come. There, now I am seated by you what more can 
 you urge here, than when I sat in ' that cold moonlight ?' " 
 
 " I can urge my love I can clasp this soft white hand in 
 mine, and gaze into those liquid eyes. Oh, Anna, you are 
 beautiful, you know not how beautiful to me."
 
 382 OLD 1IAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Edward, do not flatter me, do not I beg of you you 
 make me despise myself and doubt your sincerity." 
 
 " Doubt my sincerity ! Why, Anna, what do you mean ? 
 You Bay that to try me, and to pay for it, I shall claim a 
 kiss from those soft lips." 
 
 " I shall not grant it, then. You must not assume too 
 many privileges." 
 
 " Cruel girl 1 it is not a privilege, but a right. Are you 
 not my betrothed wife ?" 
 
 " Oh, well, I may change my mind, so I shall not grant 
 you too much license until I am in reality your wife." 
 
 "I shall take it then. Why resist me now, Anna? I 
 have kissed you many a tune when you were a little girl." 
 
 " I am no longer a little girl. Edward, do not I am in 
 earnest you will offend me if you persist." 
 
 Foolish girl you cold-hearted creature, you do not love 
 me, that is certain. Well, I will let you go this time, but I 
 hope soon to have those rose leaves to taste whenever I 
 please. Sit still, Anna, I will not annoy you with my un- 
 welcome caresses. Now, my love, when will you be mar- 
 ried ?" 
 
 " When I am twenty." 
 
 " Twenty ! two years ! Do you think I will wait two 
 years ?" 
 
 " You will if you love me." 
 
 " It is because I do love you that I will not wait. Anna, 
 you must be my wife now, very soon." 
 
 " When would you call soon I have a curiosity to know ?"
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 383 
 
 "To consult my own feelings alone, I should say to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Edward Randall, you are crazy !" 
 
 " Only impatient for the privileges you deny me now. I 
 know that would not accord with your feelings, and so I 
 will say the first of June " 
 
 " Why, it is the middle of April now; only six weeks to 
 get ready to be married in. Why, Edward, that would be 
 too much haste altogether, even if I were willing, which I 
 assure you I am not." 
 
 " When will you be willing ? name the earliest day." 
 
 " I told you, when I am twenty." 
 
 " You jest ; talk seriously, my love." 
 
 " Never was more serious in my life ; for my part I do 
 not consider marriage a suitable subject for jesting." 
 
 "Anna, you cannot really intend to make me wait two 
 long years." 
 
 " Oh, they will quickly pass." 
 
 " They will with you, but be endless if spent alone. Let 
 me persuade you; why do you wish to delay ? Tell me your 
 reasons, if you have any." 
 
 " I am too young." 
 
 " Pshaw, nonsense; that is some of the doctor's teaching. 
 I will not listen to such a foolish objection, for it is none in 
 reality." 
 
 " Indeed it is. I have so much to learn yet before I am 
 fit to assume the responsibilities of a housekeeper." 
 
 " Who does the housekeeping now, pray ?"
 
 384: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Oh, well, it will be a different matter entirely, keeping 
 house for a husband. I am sure you would be more exact- 
 ing, and more difficult to please than the doctor." 
 
 " Indeed, I would not. I would lighten your care. It would 
 be much easier, even if you wished to keep house ; but that 
 we need not do ; we could board, we would travel about for 
 a time, spend the summer at the different watering-places, 
 and enjoy ourselves." 
 
 " Oh, that I can do now." 
 
 " Yes, that is true, but I cannot be with you unless you 
 will consent to be married ; or rather, it would not be proper 
 that I should be with you as constantly as I would like to 
 be." 
 
 " Suppose I did consent, could you leave your business 
 to go about ?" 
 
 " I should make it my business to go with you everywhere 
 you might wish, and contribute in every possible way to 
 your happiness. Say, dearest ! do you relent ? Say you 
 will be mine, mine this spring ?" 
 
 " No, Edward, I cannot consent to so early a marriage, 
 and more than that, I should be very sorry to have you 
 neglect your business, or what was for your interest, for the 
 sake of going about with me." 
 
 " I should not be willing to hinder you from going and 
 coming wherever it might suit your pleasure." 
 
 " If so, why urge so early a marriage ? we have been 
 almost strangers to each other, during the four years past 
 let us wait till we become better acquainted with each other's
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 385 
 
 disposition. There is no necessity for haste, we are both 
 young yet." 
 
 ' Why did you not think of all this last evening ? Stran- 
 gers 1 have we not known each other from childhood, can I 
 am I changed ? Anna, these are not suggestions of your 
 own ; tell me is it not so. Has not the doctor advised you, 
 and induced you to offer this opposition to my wishes ?" 
 
 " He did advise me not to be in haste." 
 
 " Does he approve of your engagement with me ? You do 
 not answer : I know now what this hesitation means. But 
 what objection can he offer ? Say, will you not tell me ?" 
 
 ' ' Edward, do not ask me, I cannot tell you. I think he 
 has been prejudiced against you, but by whom I cannot 
 tell." 
 
 "By heavens ! I'll find out. I know he does not like me. 
 Why, he knows better than I do ; but, Anna, will you allow 
 yourself to be influenced by him ? He has no claim upon 
 your obedience." 
 
 " Edward, do not say that; has not he been father, friend, 
 everything to me ? He has every claim imaginable upon 
 my love and respect. And if he oppose or object to your 
 wishes, I feel assured it is because he thinks it is for my 
 happiness to do so." 
 
 " He might have other motives for his opposition to your 
 marriage." 
 
 "What, pray?" 
 
 " Your fortune would pass from his hands." 
 
 " Edward Randall, what would you insinuate ?"
 
 386 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBBOKKK. 
 
 " Nothing ; forgive me, Anna, I do not know what I say. 
 But I cannot lose you." 
 
 " Delay does not imply any change in the final result." 
 
 " It will, I see it plainly I will not consent to this delay ; 
 be mine now. Anna, do not deprive yourself and me of so 
 much happiness as you will do by delaying our marriage. 
 I cannot consent to it." 
 
 " You will be obliged to. If I am not worth waiting for, 
 I am not worth the taking." 
 
 " Oh, Anna, let me plead my love ; any sacrifice but that, 
 I am willing to make to please you or your guardian, but 
 this long delay is unreasonable there is neither sense nor 
 justice in asking it. You have promised to be my wife, and 
 you must be. I will not release you from your promise." 
 
 " I have not asked to be released ; you allow your impa- 
 tience to run wild with your reason and judgment. I ask 
 for delay, and you talk as though that must separate us for 
 ever." 
 
 " It will. Doctor Foster never would object to me in this 
 manner, unless he intended to prevent your marrying me. I 
 say, I know he has some disguised motive ; there is some 
 other person that he prefers and I know who it is, too, but 
 as there is a God in heaven, he will repent the day he 
 approaches you." 
 
 " Hush, hush, I say. Edward, you forget yourself ; what 
 do you mean no living soul but you has ever spoken to me 
 of love. Who do you mean ? You are mistaken, I know 
 you are."
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 387 
 
 tf I am not. Be mine now, Anna, I cannot trust to time." 
 
 " Have you no confidence in me, Edward ?" 
 
 " I cannot be secure of your love until you are acknow- 
 ledged before the world as my wife." 
 
 " If I do not love you enough to remain constant for two 
 years, what can you expect from marriage ?" 
 
 " Everything. Once my wife, Anna, you will feel a deeper, 
 more ardent attachment than you feel now. I see your 
 heart is but half awakened yet." 
 
 " You destroy all the romance ; the idea of marrying that 
 I may love you more, is not agreeable to me. I think I love 
 you very much now." 
 
 " How composed and unconcerned you say that. I see 
 plainly I must secure you now, or the little love you do 
 feel for me will escape me. You will meet some one who 
 will arouse that cold heart more than I have been able to 
 do." 
 
 " It would be unfortunate if I should marry you, and meet 
 that some one afterwards. I should think, if you believe as 
 you say, that I do not more than half love you, that you 
 would be afraid to run such a risk. You seem very willing 
 and urgent to take my half love ; that is contrary to what I 
 have heard of men's dispositions." 
 
 "Your half love is more than all the world beside to me, 
 and as I said, you would love me more as your husband than 
 you do now as a lover." 
 
 " If you are willing to marry me, believing as you say, 
 that I do not more than half love you, I am not willing
 
 388 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 that you should. I think it very wrong for persons to 
 marry unless they feel assured of each other's affection. If 
 I had doubted yours, as you do mine I would not have con- 
 sented so hastily." 
 
 " You regret it now. Say so ?" 
 
 " I regret your impatience and want of confidence in me, 
 nothing else." 
 
 " If you do not regret your promise, and do love me, 
 why will you not promise to marry me in June ?" 
 
 " Edward, we will not go over it all again, you cannot 
 move me. I have promised to marry you, and intend to 
 keep my promise, but I will not be married so soon as the 
 first of June, so let us talk of something else." 
 
 " No, I will not. Why will you be so perverse ? If that 
 is too soon, set a time for yourself." 
 
 " I have done so already." 
 
 " I will not wait two years. You do not you are 
 
 deceiving me. I will not submit to this." 
 
 " Very well. I will release you from your engagement ; 
 perhaps it were as well to do so." 
 
 " Anna, why will you tantalize me so ?" 
 
 " Edward, why will you be so foolish ?" 
 
 " Once more I ask you, Anna, will you marry me 1" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " This summer?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " When ? Don't say two years again. I will not wait so 
 long."
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 389 
 
 " Not one month less will I give up my freedom ; for I 
 begin to discover I shall have a master when I take you 
 for my husband." 
 
 " Anna, I am your slave in everything else you know it. 
 All I ask of you is to become mine beyond any earthly power 
 to separate us and you shall be as free as air. I would 
 not control even a thought. Pledge yourself to me. I care 
 not how privately, how secretly." 
 
 " Stop ! Edward, do you know what you are saying ? 
 Have I ever given you reason to suppose I would do so 
 mean a thing ?" 
 
 " How could it possibly affect you ? It should be a secret 
 between ourselves." 
 
 " Edward, do not make me despise you. Let go of my 
 hand. I cannot, I will not listen, to such persuasions." 
 
 " Anna, sit still. Hear me, for one moment, hear me. 
 Have you not yourself driven me to make this proposition ? 
 I ask you to become my wife ; you say you will, but when ? 
 a delay beyond my powers of endurance. Now, your only 
 objection is, that you are too young ; you do not want to 
 give up your freedom. As though by becoming my wife 
 you would in the least abridge it. If you will not become 
 my wife before the world, I say I have not asked too 
 much in asking you to pledge yourself to me in private." 
 
 " I have promised ; that is as binding upon me as any 
 words or act of mine could make it, except I take upon my- 
 gelf the marriage vow ; that I hope you do not think I would
 
 390 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 do, unless publicly, and with the consent and approbation of 
 my guardian." 
 
 "Suppose he never will consent or approve, what will 
 you do then. Shall I be sacrificed ?" 
 
 " He will consent, if I wish him to. I mean, if it is for my 
 happiness that I should marry you." 
 
 " You say if you wish him to. What do you mean ?" 
 
 " I should not wish him to consent, if he thought us not 
 suited to each other." 
 
 " Who is the best judge in this case, he or ourselves ?" 
 
 " Ourselves at present ; but it is possible that we may 
 change our opinion. Perhaps, if you wait awhile you may 
 be glad I have influenced you to do so." 
 
 "Not influenced compelled would be a much better 
 term. I shall not change. You, I see, have regretted 
 already your promise, but I will not release you." 
 
 " I do not wish to be released ; and I assure you once 
 more, I do not regret it." 
 
 " Well, to convince me that you do not, say that you will 
 marry me this spring. Do not answer, wait till I have 
 finished. Think of it to-night ; consult your own heart, your 
 own feelings. Do not ask the advice of the doctor. He is 
 not capable of judging of my feelings, he cannot comprehend 
 the ardor and impatience of a love like that which I cherish 
 for you. You are my guardian angel ; for you and with you 
 I could battle manfully with the trials and troubles of life 
 but if I must wait long, long years, my energies will flag, my
 
 PRESSING THE SIEGE. 391 
 
 interest in everything will fail and when you are ready to 
 give me your hand I shall not be worthy of you, if that hour 
 should ever arrive. Be mine now, while life and hope are 
 strong within us. What have you to fear, what to dread. 
 You are alone in the world ; what if this old man should 
 die ? who would you have then to depend upon ? I might 
 be far away, unless you give me the right to be for ever near 
 you ; for to come here and sit and look at you, and hear 
 you speak, is not enough to satisfy such a nature as mine. 
 I want to feel that you are mine ; that I may clasp you to 
 me, and shield you from danger ; to feel your soft breath 
 upon my cheek, and hear words of love in my ear. Weep- 
 ing, are you weeping, Anna ? You do relent ; you will be 
 mine. Say you will be mine ?" 
 
 " No, Edward, no. Do not tempt me. You carry me 
 away upon the tide of your imagination. I love you. I 
 would not lose your love, but I cannot promise to marry 
 you yet. Sometime, but not this summer." 
 
 " Cold, cruel, selfish girl, go. I will not detain you 
 longer. You do not love me." 
 
 " Edward, do not go in anger. Stay ?" 
 
 '" Will you promise ?" 
 
 " I cannot. You know I cannot without his knowledge. 
 If yon are so anxious, why not get his consent ?" 
 
 " Have you not told me that he will not consent ? Shall 
 I present myself to him to be refused ? It is enough for 
 me to know it from your lips." 
 
 " You are unjust, unreasonable, Edward. You ask of me
 
 392 OLD IfAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 what you have no right to ask. You wish me to disregard 
 the wishes of my best friend." 
 
 " Well, if his friendship is worth more to you than my 
 love, keep it. Good-bye." 
 
 " When shall I see you again, Edward ?" 
 
 " I do not know as you ever will. You will not grieve if 
 you do not." 
 
 " How unkind ! Edward, I do not deserve such treat- 
 ment as this." 
 
 " Forgive me, Anna, let me go before I offend again." 
 
 "Will you come to-morrow evening?" 
 
 " Yes. Anna, pray have mercy upon me when I do come. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye," said Anna, as she gave him her hand; he 
 then left the room, and soon after Anna watched his retreat- 
 ing figure in the pale moonlight. 
 
 But little sleep visited her eyes that night. All of her 
 lover's ardor, impetuosity, and impatience came back to her 
 mind. Could it be, she asked again and again of herself 
 that the suspicions of the doctor were well founded ? 
 could he possibly plead his love so earnestly, if he did not 
 feel it ? could all this be true ? If so, whom should she 
 believe, whom trust ? He had been her friend and com- 
 panion for years ever since her childhood. Could it be he 
 would feign a passion he did not feel, for mere mercenary 
 considerations ? 
 
 Ah 1 little did she know of the deceit and dissimulation 
 men are capable of using.
 
 TBAILING THE FOX. 393 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 
 
 EARLY on the following day, Doctor Foster went to con- 
 sult with his attorney, Mr. Pierce. From the little that had 
 come to his knowledge, he had been enabled to gather the 
 substance of the conversation of the previous evening, and 
 it was on this account that he sought his lawyer. Anna had 
 not communicated to the doctor the urgent appeals of Ran- 
 dall to induce her to consent to an early marriage, nor the 
 persuasions he had used. She felt ashamed to do so ; she 
 felt conscious that the doctor would think less of him even 
 than he did now, if he were to know all that had passed ; 
 and she concluded to keep to herself what had transpired. 
 She thought over all that he had urged, and was almost in- 
 clined to yield to his persuasions, and be married sooner than 
 she had at first intended, but then the questions recurred to 
 her, Why is he in such haste ? Can it be from any un- 
 worthy motive ? While she was debating these questions 
 alone in her chamber, Doctor Foster and Mr. Pierce were 
 doing the same in the office of the latter. Mr. Pierce knew
 
 394: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 nothing in particular of Edward Randall, and consequently 
 could give the doctor but little advice, but he promised to 
 learn something about him for he agreed with the doctor 
 that it would be wrong to allow a marriage to be consum- 
 mated between his ward and a man whose only aim was to 
 possess himself of her property, for the purpose of squander- 
 ing it away upon his own indulgences. Knowing her pecu- 
 liar sentiments, they foresaw that she would not consent to 
 have it settled upon herself, and therefore, after debating 
 the matter a long time, the doctor consented to leave it 
 entirely to Mr. Pierce, to obtain information of Randall's 
 habits and intentions, as he could best do it, without his 
 motives being suspected. 
 
 Immediately upon the doctor's leaving his office, Mr. 
 Pierce went into an adjoining room where Mich sat engaged 
 in writing, and said to him : 
 
 " Mich, come in here a few moments, I have got some- 
 thing to do, about which I think you can assist me." 
 
 "You have had Doctor Foster closeted with you, have 
 you not ?" said Mich, following Mr. Pierce into his private 
 room. 
 
 " Yes and it is an affair of his, that I want your help 
 upon. His ward is about to marry it seems, and the old 
 doctor does not feel quite satisfied with the young man, and 
 he wants to learn something more of his habits, and also to 
 discover whether his motives are those which alone should 
 actuate him. The doctor is suspicious, whether with 
 reason or not I cannot say, but it is rather out of my
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 395 
 
 liiic of business. Still, as the doctor is an old friend, and 
 tliis young lady a client of mine, I feel considerable interest 
 in them, and should be sorry to see so handsome a fortune 
 as hers squandered." 
 
 " What do you wish me to do, sir?" 
 
 "Do you know a young man by the name of Edward 
 Randall ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You do not look very much pleased with the business, 
 Mich. If you have any objections to attend to it, I will get 
 one of the clerks, although I would prefer that no one 
 should know anything about it but ourselves." 
 
 " I am perfectly willing, sir, to do all that I can in the 
 matter," said Mich, with forced composure. 
 
 "Mich, what is the matter with you? yesterday and to- 
 day you have not acted as though you had energy enough 
 to get about. Are you sick ?" 
 
 " No, sir, I am perfectly well. I will endeavor to rouse 
 myself if you will tell me what you wish done." 
 
 "Well, the doctor suspects that this Randall wants Miss 
 Hervey for her money only ; he wants some proof of this 
 if it is to be found, and also he wants to discover something 
 particular about Randall's habits, for he thinks that he is wild, 
 extravagant, and dissipated ; now, you will be better able to 
 learn about this than I could, and I want you should find 
 where and with whom he is in the habit of going can 
 you ?" 
 
 " I think I can, But does the doctor think that anything
 
 396 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 he may learn about Eandall will change Miss Hervey's feel- 
 ings ?" 
 
 " Certainly he does. She has promised to resign him for 
 ever, if he shall find his suspicions confirmed. She says she 
 cannot respect him, if he has attempted to deceive her." 
 
 " Does she say that ? But I might have known it." 
 
 " Why, Mich, why should this electrify you so ? Ah, 
 Mich, boy ; is this the secret ?" 
 
 " Secret ?" 
 
 " Secret yes, secret. This is no news to you, is it ?" 
 
 " I had heard of the proposed marriage before " 
 
 " When did you hear of it ?" 
 
 " Day before yesterday, I think it was." 
 
 " Think ? you don't know certainly, 1 suppose. Ah, 
 Mich 1 murder will out." 
 
 " I don't know what you mean, sir it is nothing so very 
 remarkable that I should hear of it, as she is an old 
 acquaintance of mine." 
 
 " Oh, no certainly not, nothing remarkable either that 
 you should feel very much interested in the matter. Well, 
 well, Mich, she is a charming girl, and we must not see her 
 sacrificed. You will see about this, then ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, immediately ; upon one condition, that no one 
 knows of my knowledge or interference." 
 
 " All right I will keep your counsel." 
 
 " I will go now and see a young man who is on intimate 
 terms with Randall," said Mich, as he left the office. 
 
 He went directly in search of Benson. Finding him, he
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 397 
 
 said, as he sauntered along into the office ii. a leisurely 
 
 manner. 
 
 " / . - * . 
 
 " Come, Benson, it is too fine a day to sit hived up in the 
 office. Go out with me and take a stroll, will you ?" 
 
 "Yes, I will be glad to do so. But what has come 
 across you you are generally the studious one ?'" 
 
 " Times are changed you know, since I got my papers. I 
 feel rather lazy of late. How is your eye to-day ?" 
 
 "It is black you see yet. I would like the chance to 
 balance my account with Randall." 
 
 " Have you seen him since ?" 
 
 "Yes, last night. I saw him in Thompson's." 
 
 " Did he say anything more to you ?" 
 
 " No, not to me, for I did not give him an opportunity 
 but he was bragging as usual, and retailing his own affairs 
 to the public. I make it a rule to believe only about half 
 of what he says. Still, I believe he told the truth the other 
 night about being engaged, but I should not suppose any 
 sensible girl would have him, much less that Miss Hervey." 
 
 " I should not think any one would if they could really 
 understand his character. But what was he speaking of 
 last night ?" 
 
 " Oh, about a span of horses, he said he had bought 
 yesterday. Where the deuce he gets money to buy fast 
 horses with, is more than I can imagine." 
 
 " Has he been buying fast horses ?" 
 
 " I heard him telling some one so, and betting on them, 
 too."
 
 398 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKEK. 
 
 " I should not suppose he was able to buy fast horses 
 but perhaps his income is larger than we suppose." 
 
 " Well, I don't know what his income is, but he is always 
 flush, and spends a great deal of money more at any rate 
 than we poor devils of lawyers or lawyers' clerks can but I 
 have heard it hinted that he could not do so if he did not 
 keep the cash account." 
 
 " How is he situated there, do you know ?" 
 
 " Well, I do not know exactly, but he is sort of head 
 book-keeper and has a certain share of the profits, I believe, 
 At any rate he has the power to draw moneys in the name 
 of the firm, and perhaps that will account for his being so 
 well supplied with the ready, all the time." 
 
 " Benson, that is a very grave accusation, and you ought 
 not to make it unless you have substantial reason for believ- 
 ing it." 
 
 " Grave or not, I believe it. But what if he does ? It 
 is no more than hundreds do every day. These clerks get 
 ahead of their salary pretty often." 
 
 "Ahead of their salary! That is, I suppose, another 
 name for embezzling." 
 
 " Yes, but I doubt if you could make it a criminal offence 
 the law could not touch him." 
 
 " Perhaps not, but that does not alter the fact itself it 
 is equally dishonorable." 
 
 " I presume he would not consider it so ; but I could not 
 help thinking, when I heard him telling of his horses, that 
 the money to pay for them probably came from his employers 
 Dockets instead of his own."
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 399 
 
 " Do you candidly believe Randall would do such a thing ?" 
 
 " Believe that he would ! I know that he does. Still I 
 presume that he does not intend they shall ever know it, or 
 be the losers by him." 
 
 " But how can he expect ever to replace it ? if he spends 
 his income as I suppose he does." 
 
 " The Lord only knows ; but perhaps he intends that his 
 future bride shall pay his debts for him." 
 
 " He may not get the one he expects." 
 
 " I fancy it's a sure thing or he wouldn't launch out in 
 this way but it will be too bad won't it though ? for 
 him to get such a fortune ?" 
 
 " Why are not you willing to have him get it ?" 
 
 " Because he will spend it all, and then he will neglect 
 his wife. It is a pity she could not know what a scoundrel 
 Eandall is." 
 
 " So it is ; if Randall really is a rascal but what do you 
 know about him, besides what you have told me ?" 
 
 " Nothing of importance he drinks freely, but that's all 
 a matter of taste." 
 
 " Yes, and a bad taste too in my opinion but I'm afraid, 
 Benson, you see all his faults through that black eye he gave 
 you." 
 
 " That is not so. I never did fancy him very much, and 
 I like him less now. Still I would not on that account 
 attempt to prejudice any person against him." 
 
 " I never heard that he was intemperate. Do you mean 
 that he is addicted to drink ?"
 
 400 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Yes, I believe that he takes a horn very often, and as 
 often as he can without being observed ; he likes it, but is 
 too cunning to drink where there is any chance of its being 
 suspected or ever heard of by his relatives." 
 
 " When does he do it, then ?" 
 
 " Why, in the evening mostly then there is no danger of 
 its being discovered." 
 
 " Is it possible. I can scarcely believe it. I did not 
 know he had such an inclination." 
 
 " How long have you known him ?" 
 
 " I used to meet him once in a while when I was a young 
 boy, but have seen nothing of him for several years until 
 quite recently." 
 
 "You knew him, then, before he went away was he all 
 straight then 1" 
 
 " Yes, I knew nothing against him particularly, although 
 I never liked him very much he must have contracted 
 these habits while he was away." 
 
 "Yes, I presume so. I have heard him talk by the hour 
 of his scrapes, and the fun he had after he got away from 
 under the governor's eye, as he calls his father." 
 
 " Where did you get acquainted with him, Benson ?" 
 
 " Well, I don't remember in one of the saloons I believo 
 among the boys." 
 
 " I hope you do not frequent the saloons, Benson." 
 
 "No, not much, although more than I intend to in future. 
 I am ashamed of this eye. It is the first time I have had a 
 black eye since I was a little boy."
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 401 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 " I am glad to hear you say that, for I am sure there can 
 be but little pleasure in getting together to pass your time 
 in drinking besides, you must do great injury to your 
 health and reputation." 
 
 " How is it, Lynch, you never got into any of these 
 habits ? 
 
 " Well, one reason is, because I never had any money to 
 waste and another, that I never had any inclination for 
 such amusements." 
 
 " Well, you are fortunate in being poor, then. I should 
 have been a good deal better off now, if I had not had a 
 cent but what I earned." 
 
 " Could not you resist the temptations ?" 
 
 " No, while I had a dollar left the society of young 
 men like myself was not to be foresworn ; but I must give it 
 up now, whether or no for without money, one does not 
 count much among fast young men." 
 
 " I should not wish to. I see they have got the soda- 
 fountain at work in here. Come in and take a glass it if 
 better than all the brandy ever made." 
 
 " Every one to his taste. I must confess I like a good 
 horn of brandy but it is rather warm to-day, and I think a 
 glass of soda will be agreeable ; but look, here, Lynch, you 
 won't mind what I have said about Randall. I would not 
 care about his hearing what I have said, for he is a devil of 
 a fellow when he gets mad." 
 
 " If I should ever have occasion to make use of what you 
 have said, your name shall not be mentioned but will you
 
 402 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 assure me that what you have said of him is true, according 
 to your honest opinion." 
 
 " Why v what do you care about him ? You seem very 
 much interested." 
 
 " I am somewhat so ; but you need not fear my getting 
 you into trouble come, let us go in." 
 
 The young men then went into a drug store near, and 
 drank some soda and then retraced their steps to their 
 offices. Mich reported to Mr. Pierce what he had learned 
 from Benson, which astonished him very much ; and after 
 listening to his report, Mr. Pierce remarked: "Mich, you 
 may rely upon what I say that Randall is an unprincipled 
 fellow, and he will get himself into trouble yet." 
 
 " What do you propose doing about it ?" 
 
 " Nothing, at present ; we will wait and hear what the 
 doctor says ; what we do, will depend entirely upon the 
 wishes of Miss Hervey. He cannot control her, of course. 
 She is of age, and her own mistress, but I hope she will be 
 advised, and influenced by the doctor to wait, at least even 
 if we cannot convince her that he is an unworthy object of 
 her esteem and love." 
 
 " He is as cunning as a serpent, although not as harmless 
 as a dove, and it will require some exertion to thwart him 
 in his schemes, I can assure you, sir." 
 
 ' That may be very true, Mich, but if he is the rascal I 
 think he is, he shall not have this girl, nor her property 
 either, if I can prevent it which I am determined to do." 
 
 " God grant you may," ejaculated Mich, as he left the
 
 TKAILING THE FOX. 403 
 
 office, and resumed the business which he had laid aside in 
 the early part of the day. 
 
 " While Mich and Benson were so busily discussing the 
 character of Randall, he, himself was on his way up to 
 Doctor Foster's residence, seated in a fine carriage, and 
 driving a splended span of bays. He found Anna at home, 
 and quite willing to ride with him, and they were soon dash- 
 ing along at a rapid rate, upon one of the principal avenues 
 leading out of the city. They conversed but little, and on 
 indifferent topics, for Randall's attention and thoughts were 
 centered upon his fine horses. He called upon Anna to 
 admire their beauty, grace, and speed ; and to acknowledge 
 his taste in the selection of an equipage. She was rather 
 surprised to learn that it was his own, and after a moment's 
 hesitation said : 
 
 " Are these horses yours, Edward ?" 
 
 " Yes, I bought them yesterday. I would not exchange 
 them for any span there is in this city to-day." 
 
 " They must be very valuable, I should suppose. How 
 much did you give for them ?" 
 
 "A thousand -in cash and I would not sell them for 
 twice the money." 
 
 " You are very fond of horses, are you not ?" 
 
 " Yes, I always was. To be able to drive a span like 
 this has always been my ambition. Now you just see how 
 neatly I'll pass that carriage in front of us." 
 
 " Be careful, Edward, it seems to be a spirited horse that 
 the gentleman is driving. I am afraid you will get to 
 racing."
 
 404 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Nonsense, Anna, I can distance him without even try- 
 aig the mettle of my own." 
 
 " With these words he pulled the reins taut, and gave 
 the horses the word as he reined out to pass, but observed 
 that the gentleman in front touched up his own horse, which 
 was a fine animal. For an instant they were neck and 
 neck, but the race was short Randall glided ahead, leaving 
 the stranger in their rear. As Randall shot past, he turned 
 to cast a sneering glance upon his competitor. He did so, 
 and as their eyes met, Randall quickly averted his head, and 
 muttered to himself, " Curse it," while a troubled expression 
 flitted over his face. 
 
 "What is it, Edward ?" inquired Anna. 
 
 " Nothing, nothing," Randall replied, in a hurried and 
 agitated manner. 
 
 " Do not drive so fast I am afraid the horses will run. 
 What is the matter ?" 
 
 " I wish I had not driven past that man." 
 
 " Why ? Do you know him ?" 
 
 "Yes, and he does not like to acknowledge any horse 
 better than his own. I'm afraid I have offended him." 
 
 " Well, what do you care ? Don't look so surly about 
 that you look really unamiable." 
 
 "Do I, that is nothing strange for I have felt so since 
 last evening. You can make me amiable again, if you wish 
 to," said Edward, checking the pace of his horses. 
 
 " Me I am afraid I have not influence over you sufficient 
 for that.'- 
 
 " Try and see promise to marry me this spring, and I
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 405 
 
 will promise you shall never see a frown oil my face 
 
 " Oh, Edward, do not refer to marriage again in six 
 months, at least. If you cannot be amiable for the sake of 
 winning me, I am fearful your promise would not be good 
 for much, if I consented." 
 
 " Anna, your indifference and determined opposition to 
 my wishes will drive me to desperation. Why will you not 
 consent ?" 
 
 " Why are you in such haste ? I cannot, for my life, 
 imagine why you are in such a hurry. I am contented as I 
 am,' Come, Edward, be reasonable. Don't talk of marriage 
 any more at present, let us change the subject I think it 
 must be time we were returning to the city. Yes, it is one 
 o'clock turn back, Edward. You know I told you I have 
 an engagement at three." 
 
 " Your time is not right." 
 
 "Yes it is, for my watch has just been regulated." 
 
 "I see plainly, no one must question you on anything 
 that belongs to you. Anna, you are obstinate ; you persist 
 iu this, I believe, merely for the sake of tyrannizing over me." 
 
 " It is not so, Edward, I am only firm in doing what I 
 consider right. The doctor thinks I am too young to marry 
 and I feel bound to comply with his wishes." 
 
 " Anna, you are your own mistress. The doctor has no 
 authority over you now, and you are not bound to consider 
 his wishes in opposition to your own inclinations for I 
 know if it were not for him you would comply."
 
 406 OLD HADN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Perhaps so, but I am not at liberty to do so for I have 
 promised him I would not marry without his consent, before 
 I am twenty; so if you want me you must first get that con- 
 sent." 
 
 " He had no right to bind you by any such promise." 
 
 " He has every right, Edward. I will not let you speak 
 so disrespectfully of him ; you need not waste words about 
 it, for I tell you once more, and finally, that I will not 
 marry without his consent so if you feel so sure that your 
 reasoning would be vain to secure that, you must wait 
 patiently until the the time arrives, when, according to his 
 ideas, I am old enough to marry." 
 
 " Two years. Well I suppose I shall have to endure it 
 but how, I cannot imagine. But here we are home again, 
 so good-bye," said Edward, alighting, and assisting Anna 
 out of the carriage. _ 
 
 " Come in and rest a while, Edward." 
 
 " No, I thank yon, I must go back to the dull counting- 
 room. It will be duller than ever after basking in the sun- 
 shine of your presence. Oh, Anna, why will you be so cruel 
 and hard-hearted ?" 
 
 " Off with you, and stop teazing but remember I shall 
 expect you this evening." 
 
 " I shall not be likely to forget," said Edward, as he 
 bowed gracefully, and drove away. 
 
 The smiles and pleasant expression vanished immediately 
 from his countenance, as he turned from Anna's sight, and 
 a deep and sullen gloom usurped their place. He drove
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 407 
 
 slowly towards the stable ; delivering his horses to the care 
 of an ostler, with some directions as to the management of 
 them, he started for his place of business arriving there, 
 he took his station at the desk, and was soon, to all outward 
 appearance, busily engaged, but his thoughts were far away. 
 He had not been there long, when the senior member of the 
 firm entered. Approaching him, he said in a most freezing 
 manner : 
 
 " Mr. Randall, walk up into my room, if you please, I 
 wish to have some conversation with you." 
 
 " Yes, sir, presently," he replied, as with a flushed coun- 
 tenance he bent over the ledger. 
 
 " Now, if you please. It is a matter that will admit of 
 no delay," said the gentleman, leaving the office. Edward 
 soon followed him to his private room : entering he said, in 
 a bold manner : 
 
 " What is it, sir ?" 
 
 " Close the door, if you please : there is a slight discre- 
 pancy in the accounts ; here, sir, perhaps you will be able to 
 explain it," said he, pointing to some books lying open before 
 him. Upon glancing at them, Eandall discovered the check 
 book and the cash book before him, which were usually in 
 his charge, but which he had not missed from his desk. 
 
 " What do you mean, sir ?" 
 
 " I mean that you have drawn five thousand dollars from 
 the bank more than you have accounted for on the cash 
 book." 
 
 " It is not so, sir."
 
 408 OLD HATJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Do you deny it in the face of these books ?" 
 
 " I can account for every dollar drawn." 
 
 " I presume you can. Will you be good enough to do 
 so. There is a voucher that I have just received from the 
 bank. Can you explain to me for what that check was 
 given ? It is for one thousand dollars." 
 
 " Give me time, sir, to look over the books, and I shall be 
 able to explain at once. I may have made some mistake." 
 
 " Perhaps ! Mr. Randall, you need not attempt to 
 deceive me in this matter. I have trusted you blindly, on 
 account of the respectability of your connexions, but my 
 eyes are opened. Account to me instantly for the moneys 
 you have drawn, or I will send for an officer." 
 
 " Send for an officer then, if you please, and you will find 
 you cannot touch me. I have your authority, in writing, to 
 draw moneys whenever I saw proper, and I have not exceed- 
 ed my right." 
 
 " You had authority to draw moneys for the use of the 
 firm in its legitimate business, but not to buy fast horses, 
 sir those I saw you driving this morning will account for a 
 /share of the deficient sum, I suppose." 
 
 " Those were not my horses some I hired from a livery 
 establishment." 
 
 " You are laboring under a slight mistake, sir. I return- 
 ed immediately after you passed me, for I recognized the 
 horses as being the very ones that had been offered me last 
 week, but which I thought too expensive for my means. I 
 went to the person who had offered them to me, and learn-
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 4:09 
 
 ed, to my astonishment, that you had bought them. Yes, 
 sir, I say bought them, and not only that, but paid for 
 them, too." 
 
 " And whose business is it what I spend my money for ?" 
 Randall answered, boldly. 
 
 " You have, undoubtedly, a right to spend your own 
 money as you please, but not to spend mine and by a 
 marvellous coincidence, I find that this check bears date on 
 the same day the horses were purchased, and there seems to 
 be no corresponding entry in the books." 
 
 " I may have omitted as yet to enter it." 
 
 " Yes, I think you may have," answered sarcastically, 
 Randall's employer. " But I have no time to waste in words. 
 Since meeting you on the road this morning, I have made 
 some inquiries into your habits, and find that you have lived 
 at a rate that no ordinary salary could warrant. I have also 
 examined our books of account, with the help of my partner, 
 and am very certain that five thousand dollars would not 
 make us whole for the amount you must have used for your- 
 self. This sum you must repay, and then, sir, you are at 
 liberty to obtain another situation." 
 
 " If I have overdrawn my account I expect to replace 
 it." 
 
 " Do it then, and the sooner the better." 
 
 " I beg of you, sir, do not dismiss me. I will repay you 
 all I have overdrawn, only give me time. I promise you, I 
 will not be guilty of this again." 
 
 " Plainly, sir, we have no farther confidence in you, and 
 
 18
 
 4:10 OLD HAUN, THE PAWJNJBKOKEK. 
 
 our business connection must cease, and more than that 
 when could you ever pay me from your salary ? But before 
 you are at liberty you must make some arrangement of this 
 matter. Go and get some one to advance the sum for you : 
 your father, perhaps. I will send for him." 
 
 " No, sir. I beseech of you do not let my father know it. 
 He could not pay you, and he must know nothing of it ; it 
 would kill him. Only wait three months, and I will pay 
 you every cent with interest." 
 
 " How do you expect to get it, in that time, if you have 
 nothing now ?" 
 
 " I expect a large fortune. I have the promise of it 
 only wait, and I will pay you all : but if you expose me, 
 now, I shall lose every chance of getting it, and I shall 
 never be able to pay you." 
 
 " What the d 1 do you mean. Have you been speculat- 
 ing with our funds ?" 
 
 " No, I have not been speculating ; but only believe me. 
 It is so. I did not intend you to lose anything by me, as 
 you will not, if you will wait, and not expose me." 
 
 "You must tell some more plausible story than that. I 
 am, undoubtedly, far behind the spirit of the age, as I 
 cannot understand how you expect to get a fortune in so 
 short a time. Explain your meaning." 
 
 " I had rather not ; I am not at liberty to. Take my 
 word for it, and all will be arranged, as I have said, I assure 
 you." 
 
 " We might as well drop that part of the subject. If 
 you have any explanation to make, make it at once."
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 411 
 
 " Well, you saw that young lady with me this morning. 
 I am going to marry her in a few weeks, and as soon as I 
 am married, I will pay you with interest." 
 
 " Has she property. Who is it ?" 
 
 " Miss Hervey. She is worth more than a hundred thou- 
 sand. So you see, you need not be afraid of losing what I 
 owe you." 
 
 " Oh ! that is it. I will inquire about that. What is 
 her father's name ?" 
 
 " She has no parents. She is mistress of her own fortune, 
 and I promise you, as soon as I am married, to pay you." 
 
 " Will you give me your note, payable, in two nonths, 
 with interest." 
 
 " Yes, I will do it now." 
 
 "Not too fast, not too fast. Your note might not be 
 very current, in case what you have stated, should happen 
 not to be true. I must make some inquiries first." 
 
 " I am perfectly willing that you should and yo" will be 
 satisfied that what I have told you is true." 
 
 " I will take your note, and you remain here until you 
 have paid me. After that you must leave. Doling the 
 remainder of the time, I will take charge of the cas^ depart- 
 ment myself." 
 
 " I hope, sir, you will not mention this to any on" 
 
 " Not unless it should become necessary." 
 
 " You will lose your money if you do, sir, you may rely 
 upon it for I have nothing to depend upon bu 4 ^hat I 
 expect to get by my marriage."
 
 412 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Well, to secure my money, I will do as you wish ; if 
 after inquiring, I find you have told the truth where does 
 the young lady live ?" 
 
 " For God's sake, do not go to her, or let them suspect 
 anything out of the way." 
 
 " So you think she would not have you, if she knew what 
 a rascal you are. Well, I think she would show her good 
 sense ; but that's a matter I will not meddle with ; but you 
 must tell me where I can learn the truth of your statement, 
 for I cannot rely upon your word." 
 
 " Well, she is the ward of Doctor Foster. Pierce, No. 
 Nassau street is her lawyer, and you would learn that this 
 is true, by inquiring of him. But, sir, why will not you 
 believe me ? I swear it is true." 
 
 " If you had not lied to me about those horses. After 
 what has come to my knowledge, why should I believe you; 
 tell me that. No, sir, I shall go and inquire. You will 
 please remain here while I am gone," said he, rising, to leave 
 the room. 
 
 Randall stopped him, again beseeching him not to expose 
 him which his employer promised, and left the room. 
 Eandall threw himself upon a seat, and fell into deep study. 
 He did not feel much fear of being exposed, if he could only 
 keep his promise, for he knew that his employer, from 
 interested motives, would probably think proper to keep 
 the affair quiet. But he did greatly fear that he should not 
 be able to persuade Anna to marry him so soon. Still the 
 necessity was urgent, and it must be done in some way, and
 
 TRAILING THE FOX. 413 
 
 he had, therefore, by the time his employer returned, decided 
 to make the attempt. 
 
 "Well, young man, are you ready now to give me -your 
 note ?" said the merchant, as he entered. 
 
 " You found what I told you to be true, I suppose." 
 
 " I did not find Mr. Pierce, but a clerk of his told me 
 enough to convince me you told me the truth, although he 
 seemed to doubt Miss Hervey's marriage occurring very 
 soon. But I leave that for you to arrange." 
 
 " Who did you see ?" 
 
 " I don't know what his name is ; a young man answered 
 my inquiries. We will draw up that note, sir, and I will 
 then dispense with your services." 
 
 " You said I could remain." 
 
 " Well, upon thought, I have changed my mind give me 
 your note." Randall demurred somewhat to this change 
 in the terms of the contract, but seeing no alternative, 
 reluctantly signed his name. As soon as the matter was 
 disposed of, he took his hat and left, unresolved where to 
 go, or what to do but with the one hope predominant, of 
 repairing his fortunes by an immediate marriage.
 
 414: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 SETTING THE TRAP. 
 
 " HAVE you had a pleasant ride ?" said the doctor, as 
 Anna entered the library, upon her return. 
 
 "Very, it is a delightful morning. Are you at leisure 
 now, doctor?" 
 
 " Entirely so. Anything I can do for you, Anna ?" 
 
 " I would like to have a few moments conversation with 
 you." 
 
 " I suppose you want to talk about Randall. Has he 
 been persuading ?" 
 
 " Not only persuading, but teazing, importuning. Now, 
 I want to know if you are ready and willing to give your 
 consent to my marriage ?" 
 
 " When does he want you to be married ?" 
 
 " Very soon ; immediately he would like to be, and if you 
 have found no good reason for delaying it, why should 
 we?" 
 
 " Anna, you are too young, entirely too young to marry. 
 I should not be willing you should marry any one for a long 
 time yet, and I certainly am not willing you should marry 
 Edward Randall,"
 
 SETTING THE TEAP. 415 
 
 " Do tell me. Have you discovered anything to confirm 
 your suspicions. I know you wrong him; but I am willing 
 to wait until you are convinced of the fact : but as to my 
 being too young, I do not think so, although that is the only 
 reason I can urge for delay, or at least, I give that as your 
 reason for wishing me to delay." 
 
 " I am glad, my dear girl, you are willing to be guided 
 in this matter by my wishes, and I feel assured that you 
 will never regret it, for although I have nothing yet to tell 
 you that would shake your confidence in his integrity, still 
 my opmion is not changed." 
 
 " I am very sorry to hear you say that, but yet, I do not 
 fear but all will come out right at last, although it is annoy- 
 ing to me to be importuned as I am, and be unable to give 
 my real reason for wishing to delay. I feel that I am deal- 
 ing very ungenerously by him." 
 
 " Well, well, time will tell, but I say again, Anna, you 
 are too young to marry." 
 
 " Nonsense, doctor. Why half the women in the world 
 marry before they are of my age." 
 
 " I know they do, and that is the very reason I want you 
 should wait. The evidences of their imprudence are con- 
 stantly before us ; if it were not so, I should not insist upon 
 your waiting, as I do." 
 
 " What do you mean ? I have finished my education, 
 have plenty of property to support us, even without exer- 
 tion on Edward's part. So what is there to hinder ?" 
 
 " Anna, in all your studies, have you ever learned any-
 
 416 OLD IIAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 thing of your own physiology. Have you not learned that 
 until you have attained strength and maturity, you are not 
 fit to take upon yourself the duties of married life." 
 
 " I never was sick a day in my life that I can remember. 
 I am perfectly strong and healthy. Your reasoning might 
 be good if I were a sickly delicate creature." 
 
 " You do not know ; your constitution has not been tried. 
 You might escape the evil consequences that fall to the lot 
 of many who try the experiment, but you run a great 
 risk. Remember your own mother, she was by many years 
 too young, to have the care of you, when you came tor claim 
 it, and although as yet, by attention and proper treatment, 
 you have not shown any symptoms of disease, you cannot 
 hope to escape entirely, the punishment nature invariably 
 inflicts upon those who infringe her laws. You are healthy 
 now, but you have not reached maturity yet ; remain as you 
 are, free from care, and all calls upon your strength, for a 
 few years, and you may never suffer as the majority of 
 women do in the present age. Do you understand me, 
 Anna ?" 
 
 " Yes, and I think I fully appreciate all you have advanced. 
 You are kind and considerate, and I know I owe my 
 present health, and my freedom from sickness to your watch- 
 ful guardianship over me ; and to prove to you my gratitude 
 I promise you I will not speak of marriage again in a long 
 time." 
 
 "Anna, you could not please me more than by doing so; 
 but how is it that Randall leaves it for you to gain my con-
 
 SETTING THE TKAP. 417 
 
 sent to your marriage ? I should suppose lie would try him- 
 self, if he is so very anxious." 
 
 " He thinks you are prejudiced against him." 
 
 " Is that all ? Do not be afraid to tell me." 
 
 " Well, no. He thinks it is a matter in which I am alone 
 concerned, that I am my own mistress, and can do as I like." 
 
 " That is so. You can do as you like, but I hope you 
 will never choose to do anything that is contrary to what 
 you are fully convinced is right and proper." 
 
 "Believe me, I will not. Though to gratify my own 
 inclinations I should yield to his persuasions, perhaps, still, 
 my judgment tells me that it would be wrong to do so ; I 
 hope you feel confidence in what I say." 
 
 " Yes, I do, but 1 believe, Anna, that your firmness will 
 be sorely tried; but I do hope and trust, that you will not 
 yield to any solicitations." 
 
 " Why, doctor, why do you think so ? Any one, to hear 
 you, would suppose you were afraid I should be tempted to 
 elope, or do some other foolish thing; but thank fortune 
 there will never be any necessity of my being tested in such 
 a manner." 
 
 " Well, well, go along now, and get ready to go out. 
 Your friend will be waiting for you." 
 
 " I had forgotten all about my engagement. I wish I had 
 not made any for to-day. Heigh-ho, I do not feel in the 
 mood for paying visits." . 
 
 "Child, how foolish you talk, go, the carriage has been 
 standing at the door this half hour."
 
 418 OLD HA UN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 After Anna's departure, the doctor went to the office of 
 Mr. Pierce. Entering, he accosted him with : 
 
 " Good day, friend Pierce any news for me ?" 
 
 " Not much, but I think I have learned enough to con- 
 vince you, that you are doing right in withholding your con- 
 sent to the marriage. But, doctor, are you sure that they 
 will wait for your consent ?" 
 
 " I know that young scamp would not wait, if he could 
 coax or wheedle Anna into it ; but that he cannot do, so I 
 shall rest easy." 
 
 " Love affairs are materially different from every other 
 sort of affairs, so do not trust too much to your influence 
 over the young lady." 
 
 " Why, I told you, she had promised me that she would 
 not marry without my consent." 
 
 " All very true, doctor, but she may not consider her pro- 
 mise binding in this case." 
 
 "You do not know her, or you would not say that: she is 
 as firm as a rock, when she has once made up her mind and 
 given her word. I have convinced her that it is better for 
 her to wait for a tune yet, and she has promised to do so, 
 although, as yet, she will not believe one word against Ran- 
 dall, and I thought it best not to say anything more about 
 him at present." 
 
 " That is just as well; but I do not believe we shall have 
 to wait long, for there is something in the wind, I am confi- 
 dent." 
 
 " What have you heard ?"
 
 SETTING THE TKAP 419 
 
 " While I was gone out of the office, about an hour ago, 
 a gentleman came in and inquired for me. Mich told him 
 I was not in, but that he would take charge of any business 
 he might have. He said he had no business in particular, 
 but wished to inquire where you lived. Mich told him, and 
 then he inquired whether there was a young lady living 
 with you by the name of Hervey. Whether she had any 
 property, and whether it was controlled by herself or by 
 you. Mich told him that Miss Hervey was of age, and 
 controlled it herself." 
 
 " Who was it ?" 
 
 ' Mich said he had never met him, and that he declined 
 giving his name, saying he would go immediately to you. 
 Have you seen any one ?" 
 
 " No; I came directly from the house. I may have pass- 
 ed him. I wonder who it can be ?" 
 
 "Doctor, I don't believe he wanted to see you; if so, why 
 should he come here and ask me, when he could so easily 
 have ascertained your residence, by looking in the direc- 
 tory r 
 
 " That's true. But what does it mean ?" 
 
 " I believe it has something to do with this Randall, and 
 I mean to find out what it is, too. I should not be at all 
 surprised if he was sent by Randall, to learn what he could 
 about the property." 
 
 "Was that all he said?" 
 
 11 No. He asked if Miss Hervey was to be married soon; 
 and Mich told him he had heard a report to that effect, but 
 could not answer for it's truth."
 
 420 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Tis strange. Oh, that Randall is a rascal, you may 
 depend upon it. If he get's Anna Hervey's money while I 
 live, he will have to steal it," said the doctor, pacing the 
 office, in an excited manner. 
 
 " Doctor, don't let this trouble you, for if you feel sure 
 that she will not be persuaded or coaxed into it, you have 
 nothing to fear." 
 
 " Well, good-morning. I must go home to dinner," said 
 the doctor. 
 
 After he had left the office, Mr. Pierce called Mich in, 
 and told him that the doctor had not seen any one." 
 
 " I think there is but little probability that he will. I 
 do not believe that man wanted to see him. I wish I could 
 find out who it was ; it might be a clue to something which 
 we do not at all understand now." 
 
 " Well, ferret it out, Mich. I leave this entirely to you. 
 The doctor does not suspect that you are working in the 
 matter." 
 
 " I do not wish he should. I am going to make a bold 
 venture this evening. I am determined to see for myself if 
 what Benson says of Randall is true. I am going to the 
 saloon he frequents, and as Benson says he is there every 
 night, I shall have a chance to see him." 
 
 " Will not he suspect something from seeing you there ?" 
 
 " No, I will go with Benson, and if possible keep myself 
 out of his sight." 
 
 " Very well ; but, Mich, don't let them get you to drink- 
 ing." 
 
 " I hope you do not fear that.''
 
 SETTING THE TRAP. 421 
 
 " Not much. But do not stay very late, even for the 
 sake of preventing Kandall from getting a wife. It is din- 
 ner time. Are you going home now ?" 
 
 " In a few moments. I was making out a paper which I 
 will finish, as it will be called for, probably, before I get 
 back." 
 
 " Very well, said Mr. Pierce, as he left the office, for 
 home. 
 
 When Edward Randall left the warehouse, he went to 
 a drinking saloon, and called for a glass of brandy, hoping 
 to revive his spirits, which had been reduced to the lowest 
 ebb by the events of the day. He then went home, and 
 after dinner, having made a very careful toilet, he strolled 
 out in a leisurely manner. He was in no haste, for his plans 
 were scarcely matured in his own mind ; but one thing he 
 had decided upon, and that was that he would know his 
 fate that very night. His present situation would admit of 
 no delay in the accomplishment of his purposes. Having 
 thought over all, and decided upon the course to take, he 
 then turned his steps toward Doctor Foster's. 
 
 He found Anna looking for him. After a few common- 
 place remarks, the conversation lagged, and finally ceased 
 entirely ; both were silent, but Anna soon rallied, and 
 said : 
 
 " You seem low-spirited to-night." 
 
 " I could not well be otherwise, when I remember how 
 soon my destiny is to be decided." 
 
 " What do you mean, Edward ?"
 
 422 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " I mean that I have come here this evening, to hear 
 your final decision." 
 
 " I am glad you have made up your mind to be reason- 
 able, and not to teaze me any more." 
 
 " I shall not certainly, after this evening, for you will 
 either leave me nothing more to desire, or crush hope 
 entirely." 
 
 " Now, Edward, do not, I beg of you, begin again to 
 importune me to marry. It is really laughable to hear you 
 talk of crushed hopes." 
 
 " Is it ? It is no trifling matter to me. Now, hear me 
 patiently once more, Anna, for this is the last time I shall 
 approach you upon the subject." 
 
 " Well, say on. I will listen, if that will be any gratifi- 
 cation to you ; only let me say in advance, Edward, you 
 waste words." 
 
 " Anna, you must promise to become my wife within two 
 months, otherwise I must resign you for ever ; I cannot live 
 here in the same city with you, and be satisfied with the 
 very small share of your society that I am now allowed. 
 Do not interrupt me. You must listen to me, I will not be 
 denied. There is no reason why you should. You have 
 promised to become my wife. I claim the fulfillment of that 
 promise now. If you will not, I leave you now, and for- 
 ever. So choose. If you love me, fulfill your promise ; if 
 not, say so, and I go." 
 
 " You choose to threaten ; I am not to be moved by 
 threats, and if you are determined to go, pr-ay don't let con-
 
 SETTING THE TRAP. 423 
 
 sideration for me detain you," said Anna, haughtily, rising 
 and standing before Randall, as she looked calmly into his 
 face. 
 
 "Forgive me, Anna, forgive me," exclaimed Randall, 
 abashed, as he started forward, and seized her hand. " I 
 hardly know what I am saying. Am I forgiven ?" 
 
 " If you will not offend again," Anna answered, as she 
 released her hand, and resumed her seat. 
 
 " I must know my destiny, to-night. Will you not 
 relent ?" 
 
 " Edward, why will you continue to teaze me, when you 
 know it can avail you nothing. Have you any reasons for 
 hastening our marriage, that I have not heard ?" 
 
 " I have got a long journey before me. I shall be obliged 
 to absent myself for several months on business. I cannot 
 delay it long. If you will consent, I will put it off as long as 
 I can, but if not, if you will not go with me, I will leave 
 to-morrow. Now, Anna, give me a proof of the love you 
 profess." 
 
 " I think I have given you proof enough, in promising to 
 become your wife at some future day, and you ought to be 
 satisfied with that." 
 
 " I am not, and unless you go with me, I resign you for 
 ever ; for I will not run the risk of coming back to see you 
 the bride of another." 
 
 " What reason have I given you for thinking of such a 
 thing? You ought not even for a moment, to entertain 
 such a thought. Why, how long will your business keep 
 you away ?"
 
 4:24 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " I do not know. It is a matter that I will not think of. 
 Marry me, and I will return with you as soon as practicable ; 
 refuse to do so, and I will never return." 
 
 " Edward, how unkind, how cruel in you to talk in this 
 way. You do it on purpose to hurt my feelings." 
 
 " Anna, believe me, I do not. But it must be as I say 
 there is no alternative." 
 
 " No alternative ! Indeed you are mistaken. There is 
 no necessity there can be none, and I will not yield to so 
 foolish a whim." 
 
 " It is not a whim. Anna, I say again, your decision to- 
 night must be final." 
 
 "It is nothing but jealousy then that induces you to 
 make this request, or demand, rather, and I will not listen 
 to it." 
 
 " Anna Hervey, you must listen. You think I will come 
 here again to-morrow evening, and the next, and continue 
 to urge you ; but I tell you I shall not. If you refuse, you 
 see me for the last time to-night. I am not jealous, neither 
 is it a whim. It is a necessity. I cannot, and will not, 
 wait two years, or one year. My wife you shall be, and 
 now." 
 
 " Edward, you forget yourself. You astonish me. I do 
 not understand your conduct at all. You say you must go 
 away on business, and if I will not go with you, that you 
 will never come back. This is strange language. If you love 
 me so much that you cannot endure to leave me even for a 
 short time, how will you endure a lifetime without me ?"
 
 SETTING THE TRAP. 425 
 
 " I shall never come where I may see you. I can better 
 give you up entirely, than be tantalized in this way." 
 
 " Edward, I do not believe you. If you really love me, 
 you will return, and wait patiently, too, until such time as I 
 can be married." 
 
 " I cannot, neither will I. You do not understand me at 
 all, if you think I will." 
 
 " I acknowledge, I do not understand you ; neither do 
 you me, if you hope to move me by the arguments you have 
 used. I have listened patiently to all you have said ; but I 
 tell you once more, that neither entreaties nor threats of 
 desertion will make me change my mind. That you already 
 know." 
 
 " Repeat it, will you ? let us clearly understand each 
 other," said Randall, in a suppressed voice. 
 
 " I do not wish to marry at present ; that is sufficient for 
 you to know." 
 
 " You do not wish to. Will nothing I can say induce 
 you to change your decision ?" 
 
 " No. I have promised Doctor Foster I will not marry 
 until I am twenty, and if you are not willing to wait, it 
 probably will not grieve you much to resign me." 
 
 " How much, or little, you will never know, if you force 
 me to do so. You have no good reason for wishing to 
 delay, and you would not willingly do so, if you cared any- 
 thing at all for me." 
 
 " Edward, why will you talk so ? Why will you be so 
 unreasonable? I have a good reason. I would not ask
 
 426 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 yon to wait if I did not know that I should be doing wrong 
 to yield to your wishes. Why will you not believe me ? 
 Go and attend to the business that calls you away, and 
 hasten back; we may be together so much of the time. 
 Why will you urge me ?" 
 
 " Anna, why will you refuse me. I cannot live away from 
 you. Your only reason is that you are too young that is a 
 foolish one. Do not urge it again. You would never have 
 thought of it, if the doctor had not suggested it. He is old 
 and whimsical. If that is his only objection, he would 
 readily forgive your opposition to his wishes. Say, is it not 
 so ? If he would consent, would you not go with me ?" 
 
 " He is right, I know he is. Do not urge me. Edward, 
 do not." 
 
 " I must, Anna; I cannot go without you. Say you will; 
 Anna, if you love me, say you will." 
 
 " Edward, I cannot, I cannot. Do not tempt me to do 
 what I know I ought not." 
 
 " Now or never. Anna. Will you, can you give me up 
 for ever ?" said Edward, as he placed his arm about her 
 waist, and drew her toward him. 
 
 The poor girl was almost driven to desperation by his 
 importunities. To collect her thoughts she had bent her head 
 upon -a table near, and heeded him not until he, thinking 
 her won, drew her closer to him, and pressed his lips to her 
 cheek, saying, in the most aifectiouate tone of voice, 
 
 "Believe me, Anna, I love you passionately, deeply. 
 Will you give up this love for a mere caprice ?"
 
 SETTING THE TRAP. 427 
 
 " Edward, do not tempt me. You are not in earnest ? 
 You will not go away ?" 
 
 " Anna, I must, unless you will go with me; but you will. 
 I cannot resign you. To sit here by your side and feel your 
 warm breath upon my cheek, unfits me for life without 
 you," said he, again kissing her cheek. 
 
 "Edward, do not kiss me, do not caress me. Why will 
 you tempt me ? I cannot yield. My word is given." 
 
 " Go without his consent. What prevents you ? Go with 
 me to-night. Anna, go to my father's, he will bind us to- 
 gether for ever, and we need not be separated even for an 
 hour." 
 
 " Stop. Unloose my hand. Take away your arm." 
 
 " No, I will not. I will not submit to your prudery any 
 longer. I cannot endure it. You are mine. My wife you 
 shall be, and that soon," said he, kissing her passionately, 
 again and again. 
 
 " Edward, unloose me. You insult me by forcing upon 
 me your unwelcome caresses. I will not go with you." 
 
 Starting from the sofa, with all the impetuosity of the 
 passion which now fully possessed him, he said, in a choking 
 voice : 
 
 " You will not ?" 
 
 " No 1 You are beside yourself. You insult me by sug 
 gesting, or wishing me to marry you in such a manner. If 
 you respected me, you would not do it." 
 
 " Insult you, do I ? Very well, I will not do so again. I 
 will go away, and you will never see me again," said he, 
 striding towards the door.
 
 428 OLD II A U N , THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Very well. I can endure the separation, if you can," 
 said Anna, haughtily. 
 
 Edward hesitated one moment, then turned, and quickly 
 left the room. 
 
 Anna was astonished, when she discovered that he had 
 really left the house. She could not believe him in earnest. 
 She thought he would certainly return, and bid her good 
 night. But he did not, and she went to bed with a heavy 
 heart. His singular conduct surprised her. She could not 
 believe that he would yield her up completely, because she 
 would not consent to an early marriage. There seemed no 
 possibility of his doing such a thing, and she concluded he had 
 only threatened that, to make her yield to him, and because 
 he was angry. She was sure he would make his appearance 
 the next morning as usual. Cheered by this thought, she 
 fell asleep.
 
 THE EXPOSE. 429 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE EXPOSE. 
 
 " WELL, Mich, what success last night ?" 
 
 " I succeeded in discovering that Randall is a dissolute 
 young man of very bad habits." 
 
 " You saw him, did you ? What did you learn ? Tell me 
 all about it." 
 
 " I went with Benson to the saloon he is in the habit of 
 frequenting, and took a seat in an obscure corner. I had to 
 wait a long tune before he came in, and then I quickly saw 
 there was something unusual the matter. Although he had 
 evidently been drinking before he came, still he went to the 
 bar and took a stiff horn of brandy. He then joined a 
 party in another part of the room, who were smoking and 
 drinking, and was soon engaged in conversation with them. 
 As I had never before seen him in such company, I could 
 not judge whether his manner and conversation were dif- 
 ferent from what they ordinarily are, or not. But Benson 
 said he had never seen him drink so hard as he did last night. 
 I think he maj have had some trouble with Anna, for in
 
 130 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 answer to a remark of one of his companions, as to when 
 they should have the pleasure of seeing him spliced, he 
 uttered an oath and turned away. In my opinion, he was a 
 good deal under the influence of liquor. It does not seem 
 possible that any person can appear so different at different 
 tunes. I hope Doctor Foster will become acquainted with 
 his real character. He cannot respect any woman, or he 
 would not speak of the whole sex as he did last night. He 
 seeks Anna for the gratification of avarice and sensuality 
 alone. He cannot feel one particle of genuine affection for 
 her. It is not possible." 
 
 " How is it, Mich, that she can have been so deceived in 
 him?" 
 
 " Keally, sir, I am not surprised at all that she has been 
 so. For if I had not seen him as I did last evening, I should 
 not have believed that he could have become what he 
 certainly is, a reckless libertine." 
 
 " Did he speak of Anna ?" 
 
 " No, and Benson remarked, after we left, that Randall 
 did not once allude to his pretty sweetheart and her for- 
 tune." 
 
 " You then learned nothing particular about him. Noth- 
 ing of his intentions ?" 
 
 "Why, Mr. Pierce, what more would you wish to have 
 me learn ? I am already convinced that he is a drunkard, 
 gambler, and libertine. If that is not enough to prevent 
 auy woman from uniting herself to him, I wonder what 
 you would have ?"
 
 THE EXPOSE. 431 
 
 " Why do you think he is a gambler and libertine ?" 
 
 " It is evident enough from his conversation and actions." 
 
 " Poor girl ? How little she really knows of the man with 
 whom she is to unite her destiny. But we must not allow it." 
 
 "Allow it? Mr. Pierce, why don't you send for the 
 doctor and tell him, so that he may prevent it in time ?" 
 
 " Oh, there is no need of haste, Mich. I presume the 
 doctor will be in to-day." 
 
 " For God's sake, don't wait. Unless he comes in to-day, 
 I will go up and see him. No, that would not do either 
 but we must not delay." 
 
 " Mich, do not be so impatient. What greater necessity 
 of haste is there to-day than has been any of the time ?" 
 
 " I never knew before what a rascal he was. I cannot 
 rest until I know that the danger is past." 
 
 " Mich, would you be willing she should have him if he 
 were a person of different character ?" 
 
 " I could know of her marriage with less pain, if I knew 
 he would make her happy." 
 
 " Oh, then you do not care much about it, after all. I 
 rather suspected, Mich, that you felt a little of the tender 
 passion for her." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Pierce, this is no jesting matter with me. Do 
 not speak of it. Care for her ! My God, I wish I did not. 
 For years I have loved her. I care not who knows it. And 
 now to be conscious that she is to become the wife of one so 
 wholly unworthy of her, almost maddens me. I would I 
 can give her up, to one who would love, protect and cherish
 
 432 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 her, as I would do. But it is no use. I do not expect she 
 will ever know how much, and how long I have loved her, 
 and I do not want she should, but I cannot see her sacri- 
 ficed. No, I cannot. I will not," said Mich, starting from 
 his seat, and pacing the floor in an agitated manner. 
 
 " Forgive me, Mich, I did not intend to hurt your feel- 
 ings. I thought it was as I said, that you did not care for 
 her. But cheer up, she may be your own yet." 
 
 " I do not even dream or hope for such a thing. I know 
 that cannot be. All I ask now, is, that she does not marry 
 one who will render her life miserable." 
 
 " Well, Mich, go up and see the doctor, if you would like 
 to. Tell him to come down here, and then I will advise 
 him what to do. You may depend upon it, she will not 
 hesitate to break her engagement with him as soon as she 
 learns how unworthy he is of her love." 
 
 " Kemember, you must not let him know that you have 
 got your information through me." 
 
 " No, I will not." Mich left the office at once, and went 
 directly to Doctor Foster's residence. He was shown into 
 the parlor, and as he stood waiting, Anna came hurriedly 
 into the room. Seeing who was there, a shade of disap- 
 pointment passed over her fair face, as she said : 
 
 "You, Mich. I thought" and then hesitated, and 
 
 seemed embarrassed. 
 
 " Good morning, Anna. Is the doctor home ?" said 
 Mich, in as calm a voice as he could command for he saw 
 her evident disappointment, and it pained him much.
 
 THE EXPOSE. 433 
 
 " I believe he is. I will go and see," said she, and turn- 
 ed away. 
 
 As Mich watched her retreating figure, a deep sigh 
 escaped him. His first impulse was to call her back, and 
 himself tell her all but his second thought forbade that. 
 No, he must let the information come from some one else. 
 He could not bear to witness her suffering. He could not 
 be associated always with so painful an era in her life as 
 this must be. And with these thoughts he let her go. 
 Soon the doctor entered, hastily, saying : 
 
 " What is it, Mich. Any bad news ?" 
 
 " Mr. Pierce wishes to see you, sir, upon some business. 
 Will you go down now, sir ?" 
 
 " Don't know but I will. Has he heard anything ? I 
 suppose you don't know what it is, though. I'll go, now, 
 and I will tell you about it as I go along. I presume it is 
 something about Randall. Well, well, I wish it was off my 
 mind." 
 
 They started out. Mich did not answer the remarks of 
 the doctor. He could not, his heart was full. To see 
 Anna, and have her turn away so indifferently from him, 
 was more galling than anything that had occurred for a 
 long time. He would have excused even that, if he could 
 have known how troubled and anxious she had been all the 
 morning. Having heard the outer door open, and some 
 one enter, she had supposed it to be Randall, and instantly 
 descended to the parlor, expecting to meet him, but what 
 was her disappointment to find that it was Mich. This, 
 
 19
 
 434: OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 together with the embarrassment she felt at having betrayed 
 her feelings, caused her to tarn so quickly away. Under no 
 other circumstances would she so abruptly have left her old 
 friend. 
 
 As Mich departed, accompanied by the doctor, she won- 
 dered what the urgent business could be, that had induced 
 him to come at that time. Could it be anything connected 
 with Randall. Would he leave her. Should she never see 
 him again ? In this manner she questioned herself, but con- 
 cluded she was foolish to imagine he would, or even to think 
 of his threats. And then she felt angry with him that he 
 should use such language to her, and such means to induce 
 her to comply with his unreasonable wishes. And deter- 
 mined, when he came in the evening, as she was sure he 
 would, that she would show more spirit than she had done 
 the evening before. She would give him to understand 
 that she was not to be dictated to. Just as she had settled 
 these weighty matters in her mind, to her own satisfaction, 
 a servant entered the room, and handed her a note with 
 the remark, " The man waits for an answer." 
 
 Anna tore it open, and read 
 
 "Anna, once more I entreat you to revoke the decision made by 
 you last night. All is in readiness for my departure. Shall I go ? 
 Comply with my request, and I remain. Refuse, if you are willing to 
 resign me for ever. For, by so doing, you release yourself from all 
 promises, and I leave you free, though, 
 
 " I remain ever as now, your devoted lover, 
 
 " EDWARD RANDALL."
 
 THE EXPOSE. 435 
 
 Crimsoning with indignation as she glanced over its con- 
 tents, she said : 
 
 "Tell the servant to wait. I will take the answer to 
 him myself ;" and seating herself at her writing-desk, she 
 wrote 
 
 " MR. RANDALL : I fully appreciate your kindness, in allowing 
 me one more opportunity to assure you that I am now less than ever 
 inclined to yield to your demands. I gladly accept the release you 
 tender, from all promise on my part, and as freely exonerate you 
 from your engagements. We are henceforth strangers to ea9h other, 
 
 " Yours, etc., 
 
 " ANNA HERVEY." 
 
 Sealing this, she, without one instant's thought, descended 
 the stairs, and giving it to the servant in waiting, said : 
 
 " Give that to Mr. Eandall," and then she retraced her 
 steps to her own room. Taking up the note she had received, 
 she read it over and over again. For a short time anger 
 had the supremacy in her mind. But as that subsided, there 
 came the remembrance of the many pleasant hours they 
 had passed together, which now were for ever past And 
 then she regretted the haste with which she had resigned 
 him for ever. Now, when that thought was forced upon her 
 mind, she gave vent to her feelings in a flood of tears. They 
 were separated she was never to see him again ; and the 
 scalding tears continued to flow. Heeding nothing, she 
 sat absorbed in her own sad thoughts, forgetful of every- 
 thing else, until roused by the entrance of a servant, who 
 said to her :
 
 436 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Miss Anna, Doctor Foster waits dinner for you." 
 
 Anna started up, saying : 
 
 " Dinner I Tell him not to wait. I do not wish any 
 dinner. I do not feel very well." 
 
 The servant went and delivered this message to the 
 doctor, who exclaimed, as he started to go up to her room- 
 " Sick 1 is she sick ? Just as I expected." 
 
 " I think she is not much sick, sir. Please, sir, I think 
 you had better not go up now. I'm sure she's had some 
 bad news, for there was a man brought a letter here, 
 this morning, and she's been a-crying and taking on ever 
 since." 
 
 " Humph, that is it, eh ? Well, well You go up again 
 and tell her I want to see her. If she is not able to come 
 down, I will come up there." The servant did as directed, 
 and Anna, upon hearing it, said, " I will come down. Go 
 and tell him so. I will be down in a few moments;" and 
 then she rose, and after bathing her face, and arranging her 
 hair and dress, for she was yet in morning toilette, she 
 slowly descended to the dining-room. As she entered, the 
 doctor approached, and said, in an unusually affectionate 
 manner : 
 
 "Are you sick, Anna 1" and when he saw the quivering 
 lip and tear-stained cheek, he said, gently, as he seated her 
 at table, " There, there, child. Come, eat some dinner. 
 You mustn't fast." 
 
 Anna endeavored to do as bid. But she saw quickly 
 that the doctor understood that it was no bodily ailment,
 
 THE EXPOSE. 4iT< 
 
 and bis very kindness and gentleness made it the more dif- 
 ficult for her to restrain her tears. 
 
 After leaving the table, the doctor said, " Come in the 
 library with me, Anna," and she mechanically followed him. 
 Leading her to a seat, when they were once alone, and with- 
 out fear of intrusion, he said : 
 
 " My dear Anna, tell me what is the matter. I have a 
 great deal that I want to talk with you about, but first let 
 me know what it is that troubles you." 
 
 " There, read that ; it will tell you all," said Anna, put- 
 ting KandalFs note into his hand. He read it through 
 without comment, and than glancing at Anna's sorrowful 
 face, said 
 
 "Did you answer it?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. I was angry, and sent an answer that I now 
 regret. But do you think he really will go ?" 
 
 "What was your answer ?" 
 
 " I broke the engagement, and accepted his release." 
 
 " Well, well, that is better than I had hoped." 
 
 " Doctor, why do you say that ?" 
 
 " Anna, you will not wonder at my saying it, when you 
 hear what I have to tell you." 
 
 " What is it ? Tell me, quick." 
 
 " My dear girl, he is wholly unworthy of the affection you 
 would bestow upon him." 
 
 " I do not believe it. I cannot. He has acted ungener- 
 ously by me in this instance, but I cannot believe that he 
 is unworthy."
 
 438 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 "Anna, listen to me patiently. I am glad you are 
 released from your engagement, and that you have done it 
 of your own free will." 
 
 " Oh, I was angry, or I would not have done it-" 
 
 " Would you have married him, Anna ?" 
 
 " No, not now. I don't know why he is so unwilling to 
 wait. But I know he would, if I had insisted." 
 
 " I can tell you, Anna, and you must believe me now, for 
 it is beyond denial. It may be humiliating to you, but it is 
 nevertheless true. It is not yourself but your fortune that 
 he wants, and he is not willing to wait. He is wild, extrava- 
 gant, and licentious. Anna, hear me, do not turn away. I 
 know what I say is true, and that it is unpleasant for you 
 to be obliged to listen, and believe all this, of one you have 
 known and respected as you have him. But it is true, and 
 to prevent your ever renewing this engagement, as doubtless 
 you will be importuned to do, you must fully understand his 
 character." 
 
 " Tell me first, where you get your information, and then 
 I will decide whether I will hear what you have to say." 
 
 " Anna, one of your best friends, at my suggestive entreaty, 
 has followed Eandall, and discovered what I would now tell 
 you. It is Mr. Pierce. You certainly cannot doubt his 
 truth and disinterestedness." 
 
 " Mr. Pierce ! Can it be that he would consent to act as 
 a spy upon Edward's conduct ? It is unkind of both you 
 and him." 
 
 " Anna, understand me. We have neither of us acted
 
 THE EXPOSE. 439 
 
 the part of a spy. For your good, Anna, to secure your 
 happiness, I requested Mr. Pierce to learn something of 
 Randall's habits, for I have thought, ever since his return, 
 that they were not such as they ought to be. He did so. 
 We have not infringed upon his privacy, for there was no 
 need of so doing. He is boldly and publicly a drunkard, 
 gambler and libertine." 
 
 " Dr. Foster, what do you mean ? Do you intend to say 
 that Mr. Pierce knows this from his own observation ?" 
 
 " He does as I understood him. Now, Anna, do you 
 regret that the engagement is broken ?" 
 
 " Not if this is true. But can it be ?" , 
 
 " Nightly he frequents improper places of resort, and 
 spends his money in carousing and gambling. This is why - 
 he is in such haste to marry he wants your fortune to 
 squander upon the gratification of his low desires. Do you 
 not believe it, now ?" 
 
 " I suppose I must, but can it be true ? Is it not possible 
 you have been deceived ? If this is so, do you believe that 
 he would be entrusted with the business of such a firm as 
 that in which he is employed ?" 
 
 " Anna, what reason have you for believing that he is so 
 entrusted ?" 
 
 "He told me that it was on business for the house 
 that he was going away, and important business too. Now, 
 doctor, I do not believe they would entrust much to him, 
 unless they were sure of his integrity. Oh, you must have 
 been deceived."
 
 4:4:0 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Anna, I doubt the truth of what you assert. Several 
 circumstances have come to my knowledge of late, that agree 
 to make me suspicious of him." 
 
 " Doctor, I cannot endure this suspense. I know he will 
 come again. He certainly will not give me up in this un- 
 reasonable manner. He will know I was angry when I 
 wrote that note. I feel confident he will come again to- 
 night, and I must be prepared to meet him, which I cannot 
 be, if I remain in my present suspense. Gc and see the firm 
 of which he is a member. Learn something yourself about 
 him. If their account of him agrees with that of Mr. Pierce, 
 I renounce him for ever. I should go contrary to every 
 feeling of my better nature, even to think of him again. 
 Go, now, and hasten back. I cannot rest until my suspicions 
 are dispelled or confirmed." 
 
 " I will go, Anna. My dear girl, do not excite yourself. 
 You will make yourself sick." 
 
 " Do not mind me, doctor, go, now. Oh ! can it be that 
 I have been deceived," said Anna, as she leant her pale 
 face upon her hands. 
 
 The doctor immediately set out. Although he went as fast 
 as possible, taking advantage of the stages down, still he 
 was gone a long time, for he was obliged to go to the 
 residence of one of the gentlemen, after having been to the 
 warehouse. At length gaining admission to his presence, he 
 introduced himself, and said 
 
 " Have you a young man in your employ by the name of 
 Edward Randall ?"
 
 THE EXPOSE. Ml 
 
 " I had, but he was dismissed yesterday." 
 
 "Dismissed, did I understand you, sir." 
 
 " He was dismissed. Allow me to inquire, sir, whether 
 you are particularly interested in him." 
 
 " Well, sir, I am a plain spoken man. I came to you to 
 learn something about him. Will you tell me why he was 
 dismissed? It is necessary to the happiness of one very 
 dear to me, that I should know all you may be able to tell 
 me." 
 
 " I know but little about him. My brother engaged him 
 as a book-keeper upon the best of recommendations. He 
 had been with us but a short tune, but long enough for us 
 to discover that he was not suited to our business." 
 
 "Was the cause of his dismissal only disqualification for 
 the business ?" said the doctor. 
 
 " I am not at liberty to give the reasons, for my brother 
 promised he would not do so at present." 
 
 " Is he not going away on business for you ?" 
 
 " Most certainly not." 
 
 " Humph." 
 
 " Has he said that he was." 
 
 " Yes, sir. He has made a communication of this kind 
 to one in whom I am peculiarly interested." 
 
 " I regret to say, sir, there is no truth in his statement." 
 
 " I was afraid of it, but he has been engaged to my ward. 
 He has used every possible inducement to urge a speedy 
 marriage, which I have opposed, because I hoped to con* 
 vince her of his uuworthiness. Now, sir, if you can tell me 
 
 19*
 
 442 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 anything about Mm, that will assist me in this matter, you 
 will do me a great favor. He assured her, yesterday, that 
 he was going away on business for the firm, and would be 
 gone a long time, and endeavored to persuade her into an 
 immediate marriage." 
 
 " It is a mere fabrication of his own. And to convince 
 you of the fact, I will take upon myself the responsibility of 
 telling you why we dismissed him. He had drawn and used 
 for his own purposes five thousand dollars more than his 
 salary entitled him to." 
 
 " Is that so ? Is not that a criminal offence ?" 
 
 " Not in this instance, for he had our authority to draw 
 moneys. I suppose your ward must be the young lady he 
 referred to. He said he was to be married very soon, and 
 that he then would repay us, if my brother would keep the 
 matter secret." 
 
 " The villain ! Thank God I have discovered this before 
 it is too late." 
 
 " Then it is not true that he is to be married soon." 
 
 " True ! Do you suppose I would let her marry such a 
 rascal ?" 
 
 "Well, really, I don't know. Young ladies are not 
 always willing to resign a handsome lover, even if they 
 know he is a little loose." 
 
 " The young lady in question is not of that cast, allow 
 me to inform you." 
 
 "Well, then, I suppose we shall lose our money, for 
 - that was his only resource."
 
 THE EXPOSE. 443 
 
 " Wretched villain ! Well ! well ! I must go back. Good 
 evening, sir." 
 
 The doctor retraced his way home as fast as possible. 
 He found Anna where he had left her. When he entered 
 the library, she raised her head, and looked keenly into his 
 face, saying, 
 
 " Tell me all quick." Briefly, plainly, the doctor related 
 to Anna all that he had learned. As he progressed, he saw 
 the change his words wrought even in her looks. When he 
 commenced, she was drooping, dejected, and sad ; but every 
 sign of grief and despondency left her, as he proceeded, and 
 when he ceased speaking, she sat erect and unmoved. 
 Tearing into shreds the note she still held in her hand, she 
 scattered the pieces upon the floor, as she rose and stood 
 before the doctor, saying : 
 
 " There, that is enough. I am satisfied. Never let me 
 hear his name mentioned again." 
 
 " That is right, Anna, forget him. Do not let it trouble 
 you for a moment." 
 
 " Trouble me ? No, indeed ; you need not have any 
 fears on that score. My love has turned into contempt 
 for him who would deliberately impose upon a confiding, 
 and credulous woman, and profess a love he never felt. 
 But for you I should have been sacrificed. How can I 
 thank you ? How repay you for all the misery you have 
 saved me 1 Oh, doctor, I will never doubt your judgment 
 again ; never trust to myself or any one but you."
 
 4:4:4: OLD UAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 " Anna, do not talk so this is but a cloud. It will soon 
 pass away, and you will be as happy as ever." 
 
 " Yes, as happy, but not as trusting. This cannot make 
 me unhappy, for I cannot even regret it is so. I can only 
 feel glad that I have escaped and despise, scorn, forget 
 him for ever." 
 
 "Well, well, do so. You cannot despise him more than 
 he deserves." 
 
 " To convince you that I will not even think of him, I 
 will accept the invitation for this evening, which I had 
 intended declining. I will go and dress. You will order 
 the carriage ?" 
 
 " Certainly. I fancy she won't care much about it, after 
 all. She only fancied she loved him," said the doctor, to 
 himself, as she left the room. 
 
 Anna did go out, and was one of the gayest of the gay. 
 More brilliant than she had ever been before. She was 
 bantered some by her intimate friends upon the absence of 
 Eandall but that was soon checked by her dignified 
 hauteur, when in answer she disclaimed all knowledge of an 
 interest in his whereabouts." 
 
 Anna did not affect all this gaiety, for she in reality 
 did feel lighter hearted than she had since her engagement. 
 She felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted from off 
 her breast. She was free again, free from the unceasing, 
 annoying importunity with which Randall had followed her, 
 ever since she, in her foolish haste, had bound herself to
 
 THE EXPOSE. 445 
 
 him. But with this feeling was pringled a distrust of the 
 real sentiments of all who approached her. Flattery that 
 evening was met with a keen sarcasm that left its sting. 
 She was astonished at the change in her feelings, and start- 
 ed herself, when she recalled some of the bitter, scornful 
 retorts she had made to the little, meaningless compliments 
 that had been paid her.
 
 446 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBEOKER. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 HEARTS UNITED. 
 
 EDWARD RANDALL did not make his appearance at the 
 house of Doctor Foster on the morning succeeding the 
 events recorded in the last chapter. His employers looked 
 for him in vain, to fulfill his promise to them. He did not 
 come. The day passed, and then another, and then many 
 days, but nothing could be learned of him, and gradually 
 he was forgotten, except by his sorrowing parents and 
 friends, or by those whose interest obliged them to 
 remember him. 
 
 Time rolled on. Mich continued his habit of calling 
 occasionally, hi a friendly way, upon Anna. But his visits 
 were strictly visits of friendship, his manner was always 
 guarded, and but for the intense gaze that she sometimes 
 encountered, she could not have suspected that any feeling 
 wanner than that of friendship had ever glowed in his 
 breast. 
 
 He had succeeded in the profession which he had chosen. 
 His business prospered the number of his clients rapidly
 
 HEARTS UNITED. 447 
 
 augmented, and his rapidly developing talents gave him 
 high rank among his brethren at the bar. 
 
 Nearly two years passed away, after the abrupt depar- 
 ture of Randall, without material change. Anna mingled 
 somewhat with the gay world, but entire devotion to amuse- 
 ment and pleasure was not by any means consonant with 
 her feelings or principles. 
 
 Admirers and suitors thronged around her, but they 
 plead in vain. Her engagement with Randall was like a 
 nightmare, which, when freed from, she could but remember 
 with a shudder, and the majority of those who approached 
 her seemed, to her distrustful heart, like him. This feeling 
 grew, until after a time she began unconsciously to look 
 forward with pleasure to the very unfrequent calls of Mich. 
 She was herself ignorant of the existence of the feeling that 
 had sprung up in her heart towards him. He had always 
 been kind, although for a long time she had thought him 
 less cordial in his manner towards her. She often endea- 
 vored to establish their friendship upon the footing of their 
 earlier years, but in vain. Mich could not forget himself. 
 He had firmly determined, at the time of her release from 
 Randall, that she should never know his love for her, until, 
 by his own exertions, he had made himself equal in wealth 
 and social position. She little dreamed it was his own deep 
 love for her, that induced him to meet her advances with 
 coldness, and that he dared not trust himself, lest he should 
 be betrayed. He was satisfied to know that she was free, 
 and was willing to wait till fortune had sufficiently favored
 
 448 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 him to enable him to make known his feelings, without the 
 fear of having his motives misunderstood. The doctor 
 looked quietly on. He was perfectly satisfied with the 
 aspect of affairs as they were now, and did not desire to 
 mar, by attempting to improve them. 
 
 Mich was in the habit of coming to spend an evening, 
 and of passing the tune in the interchange of agreeable 
 thoughts and intelligent conversation, occasionally inviting 
 Anna to attend a lecture or concert with him. He was 
 polite, attentive to her minutest wants, but still there was 
 an evident restraint upon liini which Anna did not under- 
 stand, and, in her ignorance of his real feelings, she could 
 not account for. She had always been in the habit of see- 
 ing him so familiarly, that she never questioned her own 
 heart, as to her real feelings towards him. She was coi> 
 scious of feeling increased enjoyment in his society, and 
 spoke of him freely as her friend, and often regretted that 
 he was not a little more cordial, never suspecting that, 
 under that uniformly, cairn, and almost indifferent manner, 
 was concealed a devoted, disinterested, abiding love, such 
 as woman rarely secures. 
 
 The evening on which we again introduce them, was 
 Anna's twentieth birth-day. She sat by the window, look- 
 ing out upon the passers-by, when Mich entered the parlor. 
 She was so deeply engaged in thought, that she had not 
 heard his entrance, and turned quickly, and with glad 
 surprise, at the sound of his voice, as he said : 
 
 " Good evening, Anna, I have come to congratulate you 
 upon another return of your birth-day."
 
 HEARTS UNITED. 449 
 
 " Oh 1 thank you. But, Mich, hereafter you must forget 
 how old I am. You know unmarried ladies are not expect- 
 ed to grow old." 
 
 " Is that so ? Indeed I am fearful I shall not be able to 
 comply." 
 
 " Indeed, Mich, but you must. Just imagine yourself 
 coming here, with, ' Allow me to congratulate you upon 
 your fiftieth birth-day.' Oh, you frighten me." 
 
 " If I might be allowed to do so each year intervening 
 between this time and your fiftieth, I should consider my- 
 self a very fortunate man," said Mich, with more significance 
 than Anna had ever remarked in him before. She was 
 somewhat surprised, and did not answer him immediately, 
 but when she did, her manner was changed entirely from 
 the light trifling tone in which she had before addressed 
 him. Looking out of the window, she said, in a thoughtful 
 manner : 
 
 " I wonder where I shall be when that birth-day arrives, 
 if I live to see it ?" 
 
 " I trust not far from me," said Mich, in a deep, earnest 
 tone. Anna turned slowly, and looked in his face. Their 
 eyes met. That one glance betrayed the secret he had so 
 long preserved. Anna's eyes drooped beneath his look, and 
 she turned away to hide her conscious blush, while her 
 heart throbbed wildly. That one look was the magic wand 
 that had opened all the hidden treasures of her nature. 
 Love, passionate love, bounded forth to meet his heart-offer- 
 ins:.
 
 450 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 They sat in silence for words were useless, and each 
 tried to keep back the emotions that came welling up. 
 At length Mich said, in a voice trembling with agitation : 
 
 " Anna, you know my secret. I can hide it no longer. 
 Dare I hope that my love is returned ? Could you be happy 
 through life with me ?" 
 
 " I could." 
 
 " Anna, for this moment I have lived, struggled, toiled 
 through the years that are past. To be near you has been 
 all I have desired to think of you my only joy. But to 
 be assured, Anna, from your own lips, that you are willing 
 to unite your fate with mine, has been beyond my wildest 
 dreams. Do I understand you ? Are you willing to become 
 my wife ?" 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Anna, may I claim this hand as my own ? Will you 
 bind yourself irrevocably to me ? May I, from this hour, 
 think of you as mine wholly mine ?" 
 
 " Yes. If after you hear what I must tell, you still wish 
 to do so." 
 
 " Tell me nothing, Anna. We know each others' hearts 
 as well as though every thought and feeling were laid 
 open." 
 
 " Injustice to you, Mich, I must tell you, but first let me 
 beg of you not to judge harshly of me." 
 
 " Anna, do not fear me, but if it is unpleasant to you, do 
 not tell me. I am willing to trust you implicitly." 
 
 " Hear me, Mich. I have been engaged, and my engage-
 
 HEARTS UNITED. 451 
 
 ment is broken. Are you willing to take a hand that has 
 been plighted to another ?" 
 
 " Yes, as the dearest prize fortune could offer me, if there 
 is no regret mingled with the memory of the past." 
 
 " Regret ! Oh, Mich, if you knew who was the person, 
 you would not think it possible for me to regret him." 
 
 ' Anna, I do know. Say nothing more about it. I feel 
 confidence, entire confidence, in you. My affection you can- 
 not doubt. Yours I will not, for I know you will be sincere 
 with me, that you would not give me your hand without 
 feeling for me the love I so much desire." 
 
 " No, I would not. But, Mich, how came you to know 
 of that affair ?" 
 
 " Mr. Pierce told me all about it at the time. Anna, did 
 you love him ?" 
 
 " I thought I did. But I know now that it was a mere 
 fancy. His captivating manners, and flattering tongue, 
 enlisted my admiration, but my heart he never reached." 
 
 " How have I reached it, Anna ?" 
 
 " By your apparent indifference and coldness." 
 
 " I have never felt indifferent towards you, Anna, since 
 the day I first saw you. You have been dearer to me than 
 all the world beside. Do you believe this ?" 
 
 " I believe anything you say. You have never deceived 
 me, Mich, and it is not possible for me to doubt you. But 
 why have you kept this so long to yourself ?" 
 
 " You forget, Anna, that I began the world in humble 
 circumstances. That before I could seek your love, I must 
 secure the wherewith to provide for you."
 
 452 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBBOKEK. 
 
 " What necessity for that, Mich ? Have not I an abun- 
 dance for us both ?" 
 
 "Anna, do you suppose I would touch one farthing of 
 your fortune ?" 
 
 "Why not, pray?" 
 
 " The fear that I might be suspected of wooing your for- 
 tune instead of you, has kept me silent when every other 
 restraint would have failed." 
 
 " Mich, you wronged me by thinking so. Why should 
 you not be willing to receive it with me ?" You do not 
 feel so now I hope." 
 
 "There is not the same reason now, that there has been 
 
 in times past. I have been fortunate. I can now oifer you 
 
 V 
 a home similar to your own, and surround you with the 
 
 luxuries which have become necessary to you. All I ask of 
 you is the love of your whole heart, and this hand. Your 
 fortune you can dispose of as you like ; with that I have 
 nothing to do." 
 
 " You are foolish, Mich. You must consent to receive it, 
 if you take me." 
 
 " It can be settled upon yourself, Anna. But I have a 
 competence without it. That fortune has been the cause of 
 a great deal of crime, contention, and heart-burning, and 
 rather than have it come between you and myself, as a 
 blight upon our peace and happiness, I would sooner, 
 much sooner, see it given up entirely. I wish, for my own 
 part, that you had nothing that you depended upon mt for 
 every necessary, as well as comfort, of life. Then bj uy
 
 HEARTS UNITED. 4:53 
 
 devotion I could prove to the world that my love has been 
 disinterested." 
 
 " I need no such proof, Mich, and would prefer that it 
 should all be yours, for I know it must be a blessed feeling, 
 to be cared for, and to depend solely upon the one we 
 love." 
 
 " Anna, when will you grant me this privilege of caring 
 for you solely ?" 
 
 " Whenever you desire it." 
 
 " Anna, I thank you for your readiness to comply with 
 my wishes." 
 
 " Why should I affect a reluctance I do not feel ? There 
 is no reason why we should delay, and I will not pretend 
 to any. If the doctor has no objection, I have none. 
 
 " Where is the doctor ? I will have it settled now." 
 
 " I hear his step in the hall. He is coming here. Yes, 
 there he is," said Anna, as she rose from her seat. 
 
 The doctor entered the parlor, but as it had become 
 quite dark, he could not distinguish any one in the room, 
 and was about to turn away, when Mich said : 
 
 " Good-evening, doctor." 
 
 " Mich, is it you ? Anna, are you here in the dark, 
 too ?" 
 
 " Yes come in, doctor, and I will ring for a light," said 
 Anna, immediately doing so. 
 
 " What are you sitting in the dark for ? Rather, suspi- 
 cious." 
 
 " Not at all so, doctor. Anna and I have been very much
 
 454 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBKOKEK. 
 
 engaged in conversation, and have not required any light 
 stronger than twilight/' 
 
 " Twilight, I should call it dark. I like to see people's 
 faces when I talk to them." 
 
 " Well, you have an opportunity now, as the light has 
 come, and as I have a request to make, I hope you will 
 look favorably upon me." 
 
 " Well, what is it, Mich ?" said the doctor, as he glanced 
 quickly from one to the other. But Anna sat attentively 
 examining a book, and to all appearance, was not at all 
 interested in the conversation between the gentlemen. 
 
 "It is simply this. I want your consent to Anna's 
 marriage with myself." 
 
 " Well, well, this is a surprise. Consent ? God bless you 
 both. I have been waiting as patiently as I could this long 
 time for a chance to give my consent." 
 
 " Then we have ^cur approval of our immediate marriage, 
 sir?" . 
 
 " Just as quick as you have a mind to. I am getting 
 old, Mich, and shall be happier when I see her under your 
 special care and protection, for it would trouble my last 
 moments to leave her unprotected." 
 
 " I trust, sir, you may live many years yet, to witness 
 our happiness, and to aid us by your counsel." 
 
 " Well, well, I can trust her to you. Anna, my dear 
 child, is this as you wish it ?" 
 
 " It is, sir." 
 
 " So you have promised to be Mich's wife. I knew it
 
 HEAKTS UNITED. 455 
 
 would come to this, child. I knew you were destined for 
 each other, and thank God it is so," said the doctor, as he 
 laid his hand upon Anna's bowed head. 
 
 No moment in Anna's past life had ever been so crowded 
 with emotion as this. Long years had passed since the 
 hand of that revered friend had thus rested upon her head, 
 and that touch brought back the memories of the past, 
 which, mingling with the present joy, started the unbidden 
 tear. For a moment all were silent, then the doctor said, 
 in a tender voice : 
 
 " Anna, child, when will you leave me ?" 
 
 " Leave you ? Never. Mich has not asked me to leave 
 you." 
 
 " Your marriage must necessarily separate us, Anna," 
 said he, sadly. 
 
 Mich approached them, saying, " Doctor, you have 
 been to Anna a father, and to me a friend ; and do you 
 suspect that either she or I would wish to be separated from 
 you ?" 
 
 " I am getting old and infirm, Mich, and cannot be of 
 service to either of you." 
 
 " Oh, doctor, do not talk so, for unless you consent to 
 remain with me, as you have always done, I will not be 
 married," said Anna, energetically. 
 
 ' Well, well, child. We will talk of this another tune. 
 I will not be the cause of any delay. You must not. No, 
 indeed, it will be one of the happiest moments in my life, 
 when I see you and Mich married ; So arrange your plans,
 
 456 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 and whatever they are, I shall thiiik them good. Good- 
 night. Good-night, Mich," said the doctor, as he turned 
 and left the room. 
 
 ' ' Anna, there is nothing now wanting to secure our hap- 
 piness but the blessing of the clergyman, and that I hope 
 to hear pronounced very soon." 
 
 " Do you think, Mich, that the doctor would refuse to 
 live with us ?" 
 
 " No, I do not think it possible. Anna, will you appoint 
 a time for our marriage ! Any arrangements we have to 
 make can be completed in a very short tune. Name an 
 early day, Anna." 
 
 " Well, I don't know what time will be best ? Have 
 you any choice ? If you have, name it." 
 
 " Will four weeks be long enough for you to make all 
 desired preparations ! I do not wish to hurry you, Anna. 
 You know best how much time you will require, but I hope 
 you will be ready as soon as that." 
 
 " That would be considered by most ladies a very short 
 time to prepare to be married, but as I do not wish to 
 create a sensation, I presume it will be sufficient for me." 
 
 " To consult my own taste and feelings, Anna, I 'would 
 much prefer that we be married quietly, instead of creating 
 a sensation, as you say." 
 
 " I think we shall agree exactly about that, Mich. Let 
 us be married in church, and then make a short tour." 
 
 " That will be pleasant; but, Anna, I really must bid you 
 good-night. How fast the hours glide by when I am near
 
 HEARTS UNITED. 457 
 
 yon. I can scarcely believe that all I have heard to-night 
 is reality. Yon, Anna, who I have loved so long, are soon 
 to be ray wife. Yon do love me. Is it so ? Assure me." 
 
 " It is true bnt do not go. It cannot be late." 
 
 " It is near midnight, Anna, I must. But I will see you 
 early to-morrow. Good-night," said he, and turned and left 
 the parlor. Anna followed him into the hall. Again he / 
 turned to say good-night, and press that soft hand that was 
 placed so confidingly in his, when Anna whispered, " Come 
 early to-morrow." For one instant he gazed into her face, 
 then drawing her towards him, their lips met in one long 
 kiss of love. Instantly releasing her from his embrace, he 
 whispered again. " Good-night," and left the house. 
 
 Anna was too happy readily to go to sleep. She recalled 
 now many incidents which contributed to convince her of 
 Mich's affection, and wondered that she should have been 
 so blind, as never to have remarked then! before ; and now * 
 she understood why his seeming indifference had so often 
 wounded her feelings because she loved him. How blank 
 the world would be without him. How unsupportable life 
 away from him. To be near him, was happiness; to hear 
 his deep, earnest voice pronounce her name, was music in 
 her ear. Oh, how long the hours would seem while he was 
 away. Thus she thought, till sleep came with its rosy 
 dreams. 
 
 With the next day commenced preparations for her mar- 
 riage. Smoothly, and quietly all progressed, and by the 
 time appointed all was in readiness. 
 
 20
 
 458 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 Upon a bright and beautiful morning towards the last 01 
 the month of May, they, with a select party of friends, 
 repaired to Old Trinity Church and were married. The 
 doctor gave away the beautiful bride. Happier hearts than 
 those of Mich and his bride never beat in human breasts. 
 Eeturning for a short time to her residence, they received 
 the congratulations of their friends, and then set out upon 
 an excursion, which kept them absent from the city for most 
 of the season. In the heat of summer, they were joined 
 at the White Mountains by a large party of their friends, 
 among whom were the doctor, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce, and 
 Mrs. Lynch. There they remained for several weeks. 
 Then returning to the city, they established themselves in 
 the beautiful home which Mich had provided. The doctor 
 and Mrs. Lynch soon became domesticated there, and there 
 they remained. 
 
 A large share of Anna's time was devoted to benevolent 
 purposes. Many destitute emigrants landing upon these 
 shores, were provided with the comforts which they so much 
 needed, out of the income of that fortune which had been 
 coveted by so many, and many a darkened home was light- 
 ened, and the clouds for ever dispelled, by her timely pre- 
 sence and assistance. 
 
 But there is truth in the words, that riches take to them- 
 selves wings and flee away. A few years after the marriage 
 of Anna, the bulk of her fortune was entirely lost by a des- 
 tructive fire which occurred hi New Orleans, the insur- 
 ance, by the neglect of her agent, having been allowed to
 
 HEARTS UNITED. 459 
 
 expire. So that there remained to her but little of the 
 large estate which she once possessed. This misfortune did 
 not in the least affect her personal comfort, for Mich, by 
 his talents, energy, and strict attention to his professional 
 duties, found fortune showering her golden favors upon 
 him. 
 
 There may be those still living, who will recognize under 
 the disguise with which, in this history, we have clothed 
 Mich Lynch, the character of one who, years since, main- 
 tained a high reputation as an able advocate at the New 
 York Bar.
 
 460 OLD HAUN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 A FEW years after the death of Haun, the old building 
 that had been his shop was torn down for the purpose of 
 perfecting some public improvements, and under the floor of 
 the same was discovered a vault in which he had been in 
 the habit of depositing his valuables. It communicated with 
 his store by means of a trap-door. Reference has been made 
 to it in the preceding pages. On examination, this was 
 found to be nearly empty, with the exception of a package 
 of old letters, which were enveloped in a newspaper, and 
 carefully laid away. They were somewhat injured by age 
 and dampness, but were still legible. From them it was 
 learned that he was an Englishman by birth, but had left 
 his native country when a young man for the correspon- 
 dence extended through many years. It was mostly from 
 one person, some friend, or possibly a relative, who knew all 
 the secrets of Haun's past life. 
 
 That his name was assumed, was evident, from many 
 things referred to in the letters. But what his real name 
 was could not be discovered. 
 
 From their contents it would seem that he had formerly
 
 CONCLUSION. 461 
 
 held some place under government, but having been detect- 
 ed in the commission of a forgery, had been obliged to flee, 
 in order that he might escape conviction, upon the charge 
 of having committed a capital offence. 
 
 After leaving England he had wandered over Europe for 
 many years, and finally came to America, and settled in the 
 city of New York. 
 
 He had brought considerable money with him, with 
 which he commenced the business of a pawnbroker as his 
 ostensible occupation, although his knowledge of the 
 criminality of any transaction, seldom interfered to prevent 
 his turning an honest penny by engaging in it when oppor- 
 tunity offered. 
 
 What a contrast between the life of Haun and that of 
 Dr. Foster, and, although, both had gone through the world 
 alone, contrary to all the laws both of nature and revela- 
 tion, still, look upon the labor of their lives. Haun's we 
 have shown. Glimpses of the doctor's life we have seen in 
 the foregoing history. But the world will never know his 
 constant and unwearied attention to the wants of the desti- 
 tute and suffering. 
 
 He was not one of those who let his right hand know 
 what his left hand doeth. And, although, he has been long 
 since gathered to his Father's Mansions, yet, there are 
 many still living, who were witnesses of his self-denying, 
 and his self-sacrificing spirit while amongst us. He was 
 affectionate in his nature, as his conduct to Anna has shown ; 
 and he was well repaid, in her devotedness and gentleness,
 
 4:62 OLD HAtJN, THE PAWNBROKER. 
 
 when infirmity and age made him dependant, for social 
 enjoyment, upon the kindness and attentions of others. 
 Unlike Haun, whose grave is unmarked and his memory 
 unhonored, a beautiful monument rears its tapering column 
 to mark the spot where all that was mortal of the kind- 
 hearted, generous old man was laid. And his memory is 
 treasured, and his virtues told, even now, to the descendants 
 of those who were the recipients of his love and care. May 
 he rest in peace. 
 
 Of Edward Randall, little was ever afterwards known. 
 His father resigned his pastoral charge, and having secured 
 a small parish in a remote country town, left the city, with 
 his family, soon after the disgraceful conduct of his son 
 came to his knowledge. Anna had no communication with 
 them after that time. Consequently she never heard of 
 Randall directly, although Mich was informed by a sailor, 
 whom he several years afterwards accidentally met, that 
 Randall was living in the Sandwich Islands, and engaged 
 in some kind of traffic with the natives, but no more parti- 
 cular information could be obtained in relation to him, and 
 as he never made his appearance, the obligation which he 
 had executed to his employers, remained uncancelled, and 
 probably does to this day. 
 
 Of other persons who may have casually appeared in the 
 pages of this story, we have but little to record. Doctor 
 Marsh, Mich's first employer, married a daughter of one of 
 the merchant princes of New York, and thus secured to 
 himself a fortune which enabled him to pass his days iu
 
 CONCLUSION. 463 
 
 luxurious indolence. He gradually withdrew from profes- 
 sional duties, and gave himself up to the pleasures of life. 
 
 The time has now arrived when we must drop the curtain 
 upon the scenes of the long past, which we have intended 
 faithfully to portray. Undoubtedly, by drawing more upon 
 the imagination we might have added to the interest of the 
 preceding pages. But instead of this we have preferred to 
 tell a plain, unvarnished tale a simple statement of facts 
 occurring in every-day life which we trust has not been 
 entirely without interest to the reader. 
 
 THE END 

 
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 WILL BE PUBLISHED IN JUNE, 
 
 K. Philander Doesticks, P.B., 
 
 A!NT> 
 
 Knight Russ Ockside, M.D., 
 
 S 1 BROADWAY. 

 
 JUST PUBLISHED, 
 
 PLU-RI-BUS-TAH: 
 
 A SONG THAT'S BY NO AUTHOR. 
 
 BY 
 
 Q. if. 
 
 This Book contains an unlimited quantity of hits at every body, of which every 
 one must good-naturedly take his Bhare, to pay for the privilege of laughing at 
 bis neighbors. 
 
 EMBELLISHED WITH ONE HUKDEED AND FIFTY-FODB ILLU6TBATION8, 
 BY JOHN AICLENAN. 
 
 As a History of the Country, this hook is invaluahle, inasmuch as it notices a 
 great many events not mentioned by Bancroft, Hildreth, or Prescott. As a Novel, 
 it is unapproachable, for it contains several characters unknown to Cooper, Dickens, 
 Marryatt, or Bulwer. As a Mythological Work, it should be immediately secured, 
 as it makes mention of a number of gods and deified worthies hitherto unknown to 
 old Jupiter himself. As a Poem, its claims to consideration can not be denied, as 
 it comprises a great many beauties not discoverable in "The Song of Hiawatha," 
 besides several Indian names which were therein omitted. 
 12mo, Muslin, Extra Gilt, price $1 00. 
 
 RttDD & CARLETON, Publishers, 
 
 310 BKOADWAY, NEW YORK.
 
 "DON'T CRACK YOUR SIDES." 
 
 WILL APPEAR IN MAY, 
 
 PICKED FROM THE PATCH OF 
 
 INVISIBLE GREEN, ESQ. 
 
 A quaint title, dear reader, is it not ? Yet one that will answer well 
 to introduce to the public in book form a Beries of graphic delineations 
 which have at irregular intervals enlivened the columns of one of the 
 principal journals of the Queen City. They have attracted much atten- 
 tion not only there, but in all parts of the Union, for their genial humor 
 and sprightliness, the faithfulness with which the writer has sketched 
 the peculiarities of the " characters" with whom he has come in con- 
 tact during his daily rambles, and also for the excellent moral tone 
 which pervades them throughout. They convey many an earnest 
 lesson in life, even while causing the reader to shake his sides at the 
 ludicrousness of the picture drawn. 
 
 His happy manner of hitting off the foibles, holding up to contempt 
 the vices, and enlisting the better feelings in favor of the often unde- 
 served miseries of those in the lower walks of city life, have made 
 "Invisible" hosts of friends in all parts of the country; and their 
 number has been largely increased by the frequency with which his 
 shorter sketches have "gone the rounds of the press." 
 
 To the lovers of true humor we can recommend this volume. 
 
 It will be extensively illustrated with cuts, from designs by McLenan, 
 who is already favorably known to the public, especially in his inimit- 
 able illustrations of " Plu-n-bus-iah.' 1 ' 1 
 
 RUDD & CARLETON, Publishers, 
 
 310 BROADWAY, NEW YORK.
 
 THE MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 REV. SPENCER H. CONE, D.D., 
 
 A BAPTIST PREACHER IN AMERICA 
 (PREPARED BY HIS SONS.) 
 
 DR. CONE, lite Pastor of the First Baptist Church, city of New York, 
 was President of the AMERICAN BIBLE UNION, correspondent and friend 
 jf ADONTRAM JUDSON, the eminent missionary, and one of the most re- 
 laarkable men of the present age. 
 
 The Bible Union Quarterly thus speaks of him 
 
 " Whose heart is not heavy with the swelling emotions of sorrow, aa 
 he seeks in vain in his wonted place for that beloved form, whose very 
 presence in our meetings was a strength and a joy ; and the thought 
 rises that he shall 'see his face no more, 1 no more hear that familiar 
 voice which ever rung like a clarion-peal in defence and advocacy of 
 the highest and holiest truth, and in cheer and encouragement to its 
 faithful friends, and whose very name was a guaranty of success to 
 every enterprise and principle to which he gave his heart and soul 
 May God have mercy on the man who can cherish aught but honor, 
 tove, and gratitude for the character and services of SPENCER H. COXE.' 
 
 The New York Chronicle in announcing this work in press, says 
 " As this work has been prepared under the immediate inspection of 
 the family of Dr. CONE, there is every reason to suppose that it will be 
 a complete, accurate, and in every way reliable memoir of our lamented 
 orother, and we believe all of our readers will wish to possess it." 
 
 DB. CONE'S life was full of romance and incident, as well as a bright 
 example of Christian virtues ; and the volume is one which should find 
 a welcome at every fireside, and a place in every family library. 
 
 480 pages 12mo, Bound in Muslin, Printed on fine White Paper, 
 Price $1 25, and Embellished with a 
 
 STEEL PORTRAIT, 
 
 Engraved by BUTTRE, whose reputation as an Artist is unapproachaW- 
 
 RUDD & CARLETON, Publishers, 
 
 310 BROAD WAT, NEW YOKK.
 
 12mo, Cloth, per Volume, $1 00. 
 
 Among the numerous testimonials from the press hi all sections af 
 the country, we select the following, proving that the author's produc- 
 tions will be sought for and read by thousands of admirers. 
 
 NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 
 
 " A humorist and a satirist of a very high order. His blows are aimed with 
 levere accuracy against a vast number of the follies, frailties, and humbugs of 
 the day." Baltimore American, Md. 
 
 " He shows up many of the modern popular humbugs In a very strong light, and 
 handles them most unmercifully." Dayton {Ohio) Daily Empire. 
 
 " Doesticks is a wonder. The same happy spirit seems to pervade the author 
 fcnd the artist tho illustrations of the latter are quite up to anything Cruikshank 
 ever achieved in the same line. If anybody can look at these spiritings of the 
 pencil without a loud laugh, he is certainly out of our list of even grand fellows 
 but to enter fully into the pleasing features of the work to laugh over the jokes, 
 to enjoy the home-thrusts of wit and satire, our friends must buy the book itself." 
 Sunday Mercury, N. Y. 
 
 " Doesticks is one of the few immortal names that were not born to die. Doe- 
 sticks will always be with us. We have only to step into our library, and behold 
 there is the ubiquitous Doesticks I We take him by the hand we listen to the 
 thoughts that breathe the quaint philosophy the piquant illustration I Doesticks 
 all over Doesticks in every page in every line I Do you wish to make the ac- 
 quaintance of Doesticks? Every body does." New Yor^ Railway Journal. 
 
 " The illustrations are in admirable keeping with the general tone of these ' un- 
 precedented extravagances,' and will help to introduce Doesticks and his com- 
 panions to a large circle of acquaintances." McMakin's Philadelphia Saturday 
 Courier. 
 
 "^Doestlcks' is irresistibly funny." P. T. Barnum's Letter to the If. Y. 
 Pribune. 
 
 " Renown has made the euphonious name of ' Doesticks' familiar to the ear of 
 11 the reading public throughout the length and breadth of the land. Those who 
 ,-ould eschew the blues, and drive dull care away, should read Doesticks what 
 . says." Lansingburg Gazette, N. Y. 
 
 41 The ' Doesticks' book is before us. Its Inimitable fun sticks to us long after 
 v have shut the book its rollicking humor comes back to us in gusts." Boston 
 Cttronicle. 
 
 " Doesticks is an original genius. His book is just the thing to pick up at odd 
 moments, when time hangs heavy, and the mind seeks to be amused." Gazette 
 and Democrat, Reading, Pa. 
 
 " The essays of the rich, racy, humorous, and original Doesticks will be read 
 by thousands." New Orleans Bee. 
 
 " Doesticks' fun is not of the artificial, spasmodic order, it arises from a keen 
 perception of the humorous side of things." New York Tribune. 
 
 " His blows at humbug are trenchant, and his sympathies are ever with hu- 
 manity." Boston Evening Gazette. 
 
 " DoesScks comes to us like a full and sparkling goblet, overflowing with th 
 rich and brilliant savings of an original mind. If you would drive away the ' Blue 
 Devils,' purchase Doesticks, and every sketch you read will be better than any 
 pill for the indigestion." The Uncle Samuel, Boston. 
 
 " What Cruikshanks, Leech, or Gavarni does with the pencil, he accomplishei 
 rith the pen." The N. Y. Dutchman. 
 
 " The author is a humorist and a satirist of a very high order. His blows are 
 limed with severe accuracy against a vast number of the follies, frailties, and 
 tatnbugs of ttie day," Americanand Commercial Advertiser, Baltimore, Md. 
 
 RUDD & CARLETON, Publishers, 
 
 310 BROADWAY, NEW YORK.
 
 A BOOK THAT WILL MAKE ITS MARK! 
 
 The undersigned have the satisfaction of announcing to the Public 
 and the Trade that they have just published an original work of 
 fiction of unusual interest and merit, by an American author, 
 entitled, 
 
 ASPENWOLD. 
 
 The claims of this work to a high place in the front rank of our na- 
 tional literature will be admitted by every reader whose critical abilities 
 enable him to appreciate authorial excellence. 
 
 It is written in the form of an autobiography, like the works of MAB- 
 BTATT, and will favorably compare with the best of that popular writer's 
 productions. 
 
 It is free from the hackneyed incidents which comprise the principal 
 gtock in trade of mast of our modern novelists, and is emphatically 
 
 IOOCXK. 
 
 in the ripest sense of that much-abused term. 
 
 For its strength and naturalness of description, the reader will be 
 reminded of COOPER; in the flowing style of its narrative, of MAKBYAT; 
 in the earnestness of its thought and diction, of CUKREB BELL ; and in 
 the completeness of its characters, of CHAKLES DICKENS. 
 
 The power and originality of the work will ensure it a wide sale, and 
 secure a popularity for its author enjoyed by few. 
 
 Embellished with a beautiful Frontispiece, 
 408 Pages, 12 mo. Cloth, Price $1 25. 
 
 RUDD & CARLETON, Publishers, 
 
 310 BROADWAY, NEW YOBK.
 
 A BOOK FKOM "DOESTICKS." 
 
 THK GREAT AMERICAN WIT AND HUMORIST ! 
 
 BY Q. K. PHILANDER DOESTICKS, P.B. 
 
 Fully Illustrated Try the most eminent Artists, 12w0., bound in muslin, 
 gilt extra, $1. 
 
 12,773 copies of this remarkable book, were sold in five days following 
 the day of publication ; and from every part of the country the demand 
 still continues. 
 
 lie 
 
 This volume, abounding in mirth-provoking sketches of persons and places, filled with 
 humor, wit, and satire, convulses the reader with laughter from the title-page to the close 
 In the language of an eminent journalist, who speaks of the book : 
 
 " From the first word in the introduction to the last of the narrative, Doesticks' book is 
 running fire of comicality. In taking up the book, the reader finds himself precisely in the 
 same condition as the man who, after getting into a boat, is borne down a pleasant stream 
 independent of his own volition. He must go on, and he is glad to go on, too," 
 
 Contents. 
 
 How Doesticks came to think of it ; Doesticks satisfies Philander ; Doesticks visits 
 Niagara ; Doesticks on a Bender ; Seeking a Fortune ; Railroad Felicities ; Sees the Lions 
 Barnum's Museum ; Model Boarding Houses ; Potency of Croton Water or an Aqueous 
 quality hitherto unknown ; Modern Witchcraft ; City Target Excursion ; A New Patent 
 Medicine Operation ; Doesticks Running with the " Masheen ;" Street Preaching ; A Zea 
 lous Trio ; Disappointed Love ; Modern Patent Piety ; Church Going in the City ; Benevo- 
 lence run mad ; Charitable Cheating ; Millerite Jubilee How they did n't go up ; The 
 Great "American Tragedian ;" " Side Shows" of the City ; New Year's Day in New York 
 Amusement for the Million ; A 2:40 Sleigh Ride ; Cupid in Cold Weather ; Valentine's 
 ^)ay ; The Kentucky Tavern ; The River Darkies ; The Thespian Wigwam ; Theatricals 
 again ; A Night at the Bowery ; Mysterious Secrets of the K.-N.'s ; A Midnight Initiation , 
 Philander Fooled ; A Diabolical Conspiracy ; A Shanghae Infernal Machine ; An Evening 
 with the Spiritualists ; Rampant Ghostology ; Special Express from Dog Paradise ; A 
 Canine Ghost ; 'Lection Day ; " Paddy" versus " Sam ;" Police Adventures ; Mayor Wood 
 Around; Damphool Defunct ; Place of his Exile ; Description Thereof and Exit ; Keeping 
 the Maine Law ; Theatricals once more ; Shakespeare Darkeyized ; Macbeth in High 
 Colors ; Young America in Long Dresses ; Great Excitement in Babydom. 
 
 Notuts of it* $mcs. 
 
 The Home Journal (N. P. Willis, Esq., Editor\ says : 
 
 " Things so copied, so talked of, so pulled out of every pocket to be lent to you, so quoted 
 ind so relished and laughed over, as Doesticks' writings never were launched into print." 
 
 " This book will ' take,' and is bound to sell." Boston Post. 
 
 "One can read the book aguin and again, and not tire." Detroit Daily Advertiser. 
 
 " Any mirth-inclined reader will get the book's worth of fun out of four chapters in tl 
 work It is beautifully illustrated." N. Y. U. S. Journal 
 
 " We can promise our readers a hearty laugh over this book." New Bedford Jlercury. 
 
 " The reader is advised to see to his buttons before procuring the volume." Salem 
 Register. 
 
 " No original comic writer has appeared in this country bfore Mr. Tt ompson, alias Doe- 
 sticks ; he will, we think, achieve a position as a literary humorist, oi which he and his 
 country will have occasion to be proud." JV. Y. Critic. 
 
 " We cordially recommend this volume, not only as a successful debut in a new field of 
 ?'rature, but as a quaint teacher of morality, a promoter of good works, and an improreT 
 f public Ute." Newark {N. J3 Advertistr. 
 
 RTJDD & CARLETON, Publishers, 310 Broadway, New York.
 
 Hook \> Doesticks 
 
 IN PKESS, 
 
 HISTORY AND RECORDS 
 
 OF 
 
 THE ELEPHANT CLUB 
 
 I2mo., Cloth. Price $1 00. 
 
 No writer who has appeared before the American public has met, in so 
 short a period, with such success as he, who within less than two years 
 unpremeditatedly kid the foundation of his fame as the 
 
 GREAT AMERICAN WIT AND HUMORIST, 
 
 by a series of letters written over the imposing signature of 
 
 Q. K. PHILANDER DOESTICK'S, P.B., 
 
 Their appearance marks the birth of a new school of humor, and the 
 unprecedented sale of his first volume, " Doesticks, What He Says," as 
 also the popularity of his poem, "Plu-ri-bus-tah," is sufficient evidence of 
 their originality and literary excellence. 
 
 ^ SECOND PROSE WORK BY DOESTICKS 
 
 is now in press and will be issued in September. In the perpetration of 
 which, he has been aided and abetted by 
 
 xsiCTZGrXxa? H.TTSS OOI^JSIIDE, IVT.ID. 
 
 a humorist of celebrity. 
 
 The work has been illustrated from original designs by the best Artists, 
 and the Publishers believe it will enjoy a greater popularity than either 
 of the Author's preceding works. 
 
 ** Copies sent by mail to any address, on receipt of $1 00. 
 
 RUDD & CARLETOX, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 310 BKOADWAY, N". Y. 
 
 W. H. TlnKin, Strrotvj.r, 94 f." li".r. f - . .
 
 THE MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 REV. SPENCER H. CONE, D.D. 
 
 PREPARED BY HIS FAMILY 
 
 484 pp. 12/no. Bound in Muslin, Printed on fine white paper, Price $1 25 
 35m5tIIC*J)t& fa { t ft a Stttl portrait. 
 
 Dr. Cone, late pastor of the First Baptist Church, city of New York, was one of the 
 most remarkable men of the present age, his life was full of romance and incident, at 
 as well as a bright example of Christian virtues ; the volume should find a welcome at 
 every fireside, and a place in every family library. 
 
 Among the numerous testimonials from all sections of the country, we take pleasure in 
 quoting the following : 
 
 NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 
 
 "A Biography of a famous preacher and man, written with power and eloquence." 
 Philadelphia Evening Post. 
 
 " Its perusal will be grateful to every person who admires active piety and can appre- 
 ciate Christian virtues." Family Journal, Albany. 
 
 " Spencer Houghton Cone, one of those good and faithful servants whose career 
 exemplifies the surpassing beauty of a genuine religious life. The work is produced in 
 elegant form, with a superb engraving of Dr. Cone. It deserves a place as a standard of 
 good works and deeds in all families." .y. Y. Daily News. 
 
 " Its subject, one of the first men, and leading minds, for years, in our denomination, 
 Will ensure it a wide circulation." Richmond, fa. Herald. 
 
 " Mr. Cone's reputation as an eloquent and fervent minister of the Gospel, as a strong, 
 clear, earnest thinker, was acknowledged throughout the Union." Boston Cfaeette. 
 
 " The book is full of interest, and we are confident will disappoint none who undertake 
 ts perusal." Salem Gazette. 
 
 " America has produced but few so popular preachers, his personal influence was 
 uibonnded, he was indeed a man of talent, of larg attainment in the school of Christ, a 
 rilliant preacher, and a noble-hearted, zealous Christian philanthropist." Christian 
 Jhronicle, Philadelphia. 
 
 "The volume is a profoundly interesting life-memorial of one of the most active, 
 tamest, eloquent and sincerely religious spirits of his age and generation. Spencer 
 I. Cone was a very remarkable man, and from a perusal of his life, we are convinced 
 that selfishness and narrow-mindedness had no place in his nature. He appears to us to 
 have been a model of earnestness, sincerity, activity, and intelligence." Ne-w York 
 Evening Mirror. 
 
 "The volume is a straightforward simple narrative of the public and private life of 
 Dr. Cone, from his youth up to the period of his death. It will be read with interest by 
 thousands out of the denomination to which Dr. Cone belonged, as well as by thousand! 
 of his own denominational friends and admirers." Christian Secretary, Hartford. 
 
 RUDD & CARLETON, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 310 BROADWAY, N". Y. 
 
 Agents wanted to Canvass every County in the United States, who can make from 
 | to $10 a day in selling the above popular work. 
 Copies sent (pmt pci'f), to any part of the country, on receipt of 81 25.
 
 Just Published. 
 
 A NEW AND IMPROVKD EDITION OP THE CHEAPEST AND BEST WORK 
 ON ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 THE CARPENTER'S ASSISTANT 
 
 AND 
 
 RURAL ARCHITECT. 
 
 Illustrated with upwards of Two Hundred Copper and Electrotype 
 
 Plates ; 
 
 Embracing the orders of Architecture, Modern and Practical Stair Building, 
 Plans, Elevations, Grounds, etc., etc., of Cottages, Villas, and Farm Buildings, In 
 eluding Church Edifices. 
 
 BY WILLIAM BROWN AND LEWIS E. JOY, 
 ARCHITECTS. 
 
 Twenty-first Thousand Large Quarto, bound in Leather, $3 50 
 Dn Do. Sound in Morocco, marble edges, 5 00 
 
 OPINIONS OF THE WORK: 
 
 . [from the Telegraph.] 
 
 This is a book which every carpenter and house builder should own. 
 
 Mr. LIVSRMORE : 
 
 DEAR SIR, I have deemed the "Carpenters Assistant and Rural Architect," by 
 Messrs. Brown and Joy, published by you, as one of the most valuable guides and 
 oooks of reference in my library, and take an early opportunity to congratu- 
 late you on the appearance of a new and improved edition of the work, which I 
 have just purchased. 
 
 The Lithographic Plate?, comprising designs for church edifices, adds in my opi- 
 nion a striking feature to the book, and I have no hesitation in averring that it will 
 be sought for by every Architect, Builder, and Carpenter in our country, wh 
 wishes to possess the most concise and practical treatise published. 
 
 Respectfully yours, 
 SAMUEL PHILLIPS, Architect and Builder, Boston 
 
 From Practical Cai-penters and Architects. 
 
 We, the undersigned citizens of Worcester, Mass., practical carpenters, are per- 
 sonally acquainted with William Brown, Esq., Architect, and author of a work, 
 entitled the " Carpenter's Assistant and Rural Architect." We have examined 
 that work with attention, and commend it to all who are interested in the study or 
 practice of the art, as a valuable treatise on architecture, and it is eminently prac- 
 tical in its character. We cheerfully recommend it to the patronage of carpenters 
 and the public. 
 
 EDWARD LAMB, J. S. WOODWORTH, W. R. BIQELOW, 
 
 FREEMAN UPHAM, M. H. MORSE, HORATIO N. TOWER. 
 
 P. W. f AFT, S. D. HARDING, 
 
 I have carefully examined the " Carpenter's Assistant and Rural Architect," and 
 believe it to be a work well adapted to meet the wants of the practical workman, 
 being practical in its character, and valuable for the perspicuity of its arrangement, 
 clearness of its designs, and brevity of its explanations. 
 
 I would most cheerfully recommend it to the patronage of carpenters and stu- 
 dents. ELBRIDGE BOYDEN, Architect. 
 
 Mr. BROWN: 
 
 SIR, I have examined your work on architecture, and feeling confident of Us 
 utility, from its extreme simplicity and singular adaptedness to meet the wants of 
 the carpenters, I do cheerfully recommend it to the condition of every carpenter 
 tspecially the apprentice, who will find all the rudiments of architecture necessary 
 M well as designs for practice. A. L. BROOKS. 
 
 RUDD & CARLETON, Pullisliers, 
 
 810 Broadway, New York.
 
 University of California 
 
 SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 Box 951388 
 
 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 
 
 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. 
 
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