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.' ' ;
H - nri iPi i Pi J "nUlluLiM
r From Chamber's Edinburgh Journal.,
ale or DrprxoirerOHE BY.
There resided sornc.vears ago in London a. young
friir-on nanicd "Jersi-I J Spencer. He was the young-
t.r sou of a gentleman of good family, but small
Vrtu.n'e and ap everything - that remained "to the
' father, wh tailed on the eldest son, a good pro
f.sunar education was all that Gerald could expect
.'from his father, and itSvas all he got. But in the
'j natter of education nothing was spared ; and As
- (lerald .had both the will- and the ability to profit
r-vb'v the "instruction he received, there, was great rea-
- son. bx hope tor'a sneeesstul professional '-career. It
i oftdii a goKl thiiig for a young man to have
nol'odv to-rely bn but himself. Those who have
. something to fall, back" upon hope to do arid may
. tfy ; Lilt ha". must do or die ; and this sternValterna
tile quickens a mail's wits, and lends, amazing vigor
to : hiseners;ies. .veraid ieit tne lull torce or the
jt .i n ii ' i' .
-iiet't-ssity ; Knd ajlthe more, that he was. deeply in
hw.c. with the daughter oi one ot his lathers 'neigh
bors. lie had known; Liicy Man waring from
hildhood. for she was six years his junior, and he
' h;jd- loved her ever since he was old enough to
. ku5i -what love was. liut thounfli she was the
f - dauht'T-pf a gentleman, like hwpself she had noth
I ing but her; personal qualiiications to recommend
11 was botiramiable, pretty,vand intelligeiit, and, above
f iTall.devotedlv at'Uiched to her lover, respecting whose
talf'nts sh'e 'was ouite enthusiastic.
iHYoutnay not think ( rerald .a sufficient! v -good
niateh. tfr me nowrr'apa," she would say ;j4 but I
k.n w the day will come that you will be pjroud to
' call (n r:ild your son-in-law !" - . '
v " piat may be : ?l do not dispute Mr. Spencer's
-talonts : 'but in the meantime he has no monev :
aiid however clever a young man may be, it is of
' ten years before he gets into practice'
- " Very well, pa'pi . we are iji.no hurry. I don't
.thinkxit .wiiK le so -long as you expect before Ger
, aid makes' his vay. Such talents as his cannot
long remain unknowns but, as I said just now, we
are in no hurry ; and he would, be quite as averse
f'.to our in arri age taking- place prematurely as you!
would be. file said only 'the last time he was here,
that until. -be had a comfortable home to ofler me,
he., would never mention the subject to j-ou?'
v . iA'erv weli Luev, so much the better -only
dWt let hvrn mention- it to vou either : anuixak
cartf you have hot-to wait for him till all the
.'.Us off. vour 'cbeeks." "-. '
. . ;4' I'm hot afraid, papa," -answered ; Lucy ; J4 but
- even if it were so, (ierald would, lovp me just the
"same, and we would be very happy without the
blvmn'i." J ' ; -
- Secure of his'love' and sanguine of j success, Gerald-
thought, he could wait too ; bright anticipations
f the future lent a charm to labor that was to' be
so -sweetly :-'rewarded :: and after' -stud tms- at Taris
auit Vienna, and. rendering himself in all; respectsj
worthy of the public patonage he counted on, with
the asstanee. of his. father he took, a small house
in tlte neighborhood of Golden-square, and with a
brass plate on the door, announcing; his name and
n4tissibn '.lie sat down lo .wait tor 'patients 2 and
e I 1 7 ' r A '
nt i-.-iniiv tint a tr-. hptw ixt the hours ot nine
.lIKl-j.t'lKJ-t'U O ClOCJi, " lieil 11 W iis j.uiucii'.".!. nc "rto
at home ; but alas.
how seldom did one of them
brin a guinea in liis hand ! They : were all pau-
' pers. Or next to.itT-p'eople w-hoiii he had attended
in, the-i hospitals, -or sueh'as were sent by these; for;
enfelmsiastic in his art he had willinrrlv and care-
4ullv investi crated and ministered to the maladies
of the. poor, aiid-w'hen they learned where he was sion made for supplying them with subjects,, whilst
to Ik; found, they crowdetl" to his door. And he i to obtajn them by violating the graveyards w as an
Vas content tosee tliem they offered sulects for unlawful act Of course, howeve'r, they were so
stii.Jy andUmprovemnt ; but there would be no r obtained ; fcnafiv a man lived by the trade, and the.
.getting oh !w'y.hout a few rich -ones too; how else surgeons were under the necessity of jeountenan
; was he to pay his rent and have .a home for Lucy ? eing the crime or of remaining in ignorance of what
However, there was nothing ;to do but to wait arid 1 they were bound to know. Some of the dire con-
lio'pe. and he did both-? vearvin. tli'ourh such ' somienees of this' short-sifrhted legislation became
wajtingis to a than eager to rise, and who" knows
hc'h.as the capacity to do so, if he could only once
'get his foot on the. ladder-,'
. I O- - - D
! The disappointments and anxieties that have at
tended the early career of many .a man who has
. atterwards risen to eminence, have leen so frequerit
lv dcscrilK'tl that they neetl not be dwelt upon here,:
it is enough to- say. that poor Gemhl Spencer en
dured them :vll ; atid as he' had spoken w ith confi
dence of his j certain success, both to his own friends
. and! his mistress, it w as" doubly mortifying to find
-,hispertorni.nrice falling so far-hort of his promise
-that the tirt vear he w as obliged to apply to his
.. lather yr nioney to pay hts rent -a mvor inat was
hot granted without' some vexatiqiis allusions to the
r larje sums that ' had been spent on an education
Jt-J ' .which it was high time should produce its. harvest
i: -.But still, the rich drove past his .doc r, living tor re-
.lief -"to men whose jestablished reputations inspired ! amongst- students of medicine, he had even frorru";
hope and confidence,'' whilst he Was exercising all I the first a pretty good attendance: and this farora
his skill on patients w ho had nothing .but blessings I ble report spreading, soon brought more, especially
;'to give him in rejtttrtn But although blessings are j as the fee was moderate, till at length he could
indeed blessed tilings they w ill not furnish a man's i boast bf a crowded audience. Of course every man
table nor pay his rent, siiil less-can he marrv upon present w as aware that the subjects which .formed,'
them ; and the young surgeon's heart grew sick ; the chief attraction, were illegally precured ; but it-Avith-dis;ajpoiimiieut
:is his"'hovs faded' froui day -was everybody's interest to keep the secret and
to Jay. ' y f j : ' . nobody sympathizes with laws that run counter to
' 'H 3i"es.. he. wuld.say .to--hims'elf-''w-4th. bitterness,' huaian necessities. So the lectures continued and
4 when the present generation have died off; when j flourished; and the tame they shed brought patients,
. Astlev Cooier and Cline. slnd all th ivst of thorn ' till -flirt vounc' snrnn's fortune improved ,scv-far,
v- are gone : when I am t fifiv years Old, and Lucy
.j ; Mauwaring is married to sOmeUxly 'else for how
f j I taujl expect h'er'tiwait for me aif her life ? and
. is, perhaps, the Mother 'of a dozen children, I sliajl
,Xet into practice and drive mv carriage. I had
- :! better have,' liv born a' day-laborer tjian be the
'..'- ' on of a gentleman with, an empty purse, 'and tal-
v ..V-;.':ent I-can And no crH.rtunityf'e"xercising.M
!k ; liis position was so -dithcult too, for his. pnde
f , - '-' " forbade him to tell the whole truth ; and Whilst h
"K I , ; was holding out fallacious hopes to his mistress, he i O'Grady to which his pecuniary necessities had won . j but oh the whole, in spite rf this avowal of amend
;'' ' '' found them as far as ever from realization. ,;m t.-,'! hn a.-h'h h hail never undertaken I merit Lucv's opinion of her was im'nrnvpd bv these
iAmonirslthe studeuts of mediciie'he had become
desire or ambition
C V:;rise. He seemed either conscious that he wiasborn
.t'yfr mediocrity ior content with a little;: but that lit-
' tie he-never appeared to want et those who
: had known him longest hal understood from him
eltthat he ha?I no private resources, out nau come
to London to traie on his talents and education,
acquainted wun auom. me uipiuus,.was one called ! extreme apprehension of the danger ot a discovery, j to tmnic,
- r.tM ?rad V. lie-was an insiiraan. as ins name mdi- ; which would nmhablv have so far shocked the pub- ! ped, that
'catte.3,' apparently of low birth, and without connec- j Hc as to do him irreparable miseh'ief-in his profess- practices.
. ' t ions and with j little taienx or luuusirj. eitnet ! ional jtrw - i I less, thoug
ilid he "seem to evince any
like many amongst them. It occurred to Gerald
sometimes to wonder how he .contrived to live ;
whether he might not have fallen into some inferior
line of practice- that paid in some degree a prac
tice that, in perspective, he would himself have
scorned, but now he would' be too glad to take any?
thing he, could getj With the view of finding put
O'Gradj's secret, lie cultivated his society, which,-
from not liking him, he had originally rather avoid
ed." ' When the Irishman saw him disposed to be ,
civil, he showed himself ready enough meet him
half way ; and one day, as they quitted one off the '
hospitals together, he invited him to dine with him .
' at an eating-house' he frequented in the neighbor-.
hood. 7 I .
The dinner was not ia grand style, but it was
plentiful, and O'Grady called for a bottle of wine to
relish it a luxury the other was little accustomed to. .
" Upon iny word, O'GradyT said he, " you make
it out capitally, if this is the style you live in evtery
day. I don t know now it is, bufTthough I
plenty of patients, I never get a fee."' '
44 Nor I either," said O'Grady. 44 Why, man, if
I depend on fees, I should hot get butter to-my
"' Oh. I hen vour pardon." said Gpr.ild " von lnv
her-fdonbtless some private resources. Fortunate man,
say JL : 1 wish 1 had. .- -
O'Grady did not deny the imputation, and so the
matter rested for that time ; but as, either for mo
tives of his own or from good nature he not un-fi-equentV
invited Gerald to share his dinner, the
intimacy continued till a degree of confidence was
stablished -between them that led to mourentous-results.-
44 As for my getting into practice here, I look
upon it as out of the question without some extra
ordinary lucky hit," said O'Grady one day. 44 1
mean by-and-lye to go back to old Ireland, where,
in some miserable hole or. another, I shall settle
down as a country. doctor, and spend the rest of my
life astride of the' sharp backbone of an Irish horse
But you ought to get into practice; you have not
only abilities but industry, and there- isn't a man
amongst us who has a better right to get on than
4 And yet this ability and industry you are pleas-ed-to
attribute to me will scarcely find me in bread
and cheese. ' And the hard part of it is, that when
fortune turns her back upon a man in this manner
in the beginning of life, one can'i at least
can't afford to wrait .until she is in better humor.
I suppose practice will 'come by-and-by, . w hen I
am forty or fifty jears pf age; but how am I to
live and keep up appearances in the meantime !
If L had your gift of the gab," said O'Grady,
and knew as much about the thing as you do, I'd
give lectures on anatomy. In that way you'd get
44 But who'd come to them? That is, who'd
pay to come. to them ? and without fees I couldn't
do it." ' ,'.'-.''
44 I'll tell you what would bring you fees."
"What?" M 7
" Not talking alone, I admit ; but get subjects
show 'em what you teach, and you'll (get plenty of
students to come to yOu, I warrant"
"I daresay. But how. am I to get subjects?
Whv, K ' gave forty pounds for one lately."
"I know that," answered O'Grady; "but there
! are wavs of, doing it;" and then, with his elbows
on the table, he leaned across, and in a low voice
communicated to Gerald the secret he alluded, to.
; At that time-and it is not so very many years
! since these circumstances occurred surgeons w ere
f expected, as much as now, to be acquainted w ith
j all -the mysteriesf the human frame, whilst the
legislature placed every impediment in the way ot
their diviner into its secrets. Thre was no provi-.
- 1 C . 9
known to the world, and we have a vero adopted
I in our vocabulary which will carry .down sthe le-.
T gend to posterity but it is well understood that
I there vere many more deaths by burking in dihVr
!;ent parts of the kingdom, especially in London,
than ever became public, as also that the annals of
i the resurrectic-nists .would record many strange, es-
capes and frightffil adventures." '.'
i But to return "to our storv. Shortly after the
conversation alluded to betwixt Spencer andO'Gra-
; Uy, the former m;vle known his intention of giving
j lectures on .anatomy; indeed he put advertisements
1 into the, papers, to that effect, whilst it was secretly
circulated amongst tne stuuents . aj .mr'jwi
; would be provided for each lecture; As the oppor- r
tunities for practical observation were so lituitod as
to render such occasions extremely desirable.' and
; as the abilities, of the lecturer were well known
and promised So well for the future, that lie ventu-
! red to uike his proposals to Mr. Manwaring; and
! the lovers being, quite weary 'of living on protract-.
! ed hope, they pleaded their" own cause so energet-
icallv that the father's consent was won; and they
were married, 1
On this event taking' place, trusting that his
practice would increase, and be sufficient to main-
1 tain himself and his wife, Mr. Spencer resolved to
i ah anilon for pver fViose midnisrht expediliiDns with
j without feeling of horror and disgust as well
. I O . . 1
to i For mn littU tim thMfore he depended oh
j his legitimate profits to furnish funds for his family
expenses; but these were not always sufficient and
an emptv cun shmrfim drove him to his old
- resources -resources, however, f which his wife
remained wholly ignorant That he- gave lectures
occasionally she knew, and that he was every now
Gil, NORTH CAROLINA,
and then out great part of the night with his friend
O'Grady ; but lrow they were employed, though she
sometimes wondered, she was never told. -
In the meantime Lucy, who haying yet no child,
had a great deal. of time to herself, and who h-.
been accustomed in the country to visit and minis
ter to the poor of the neighborhood, had joined a
-society of benevolent ladies, which had originated
in a proposal of Mrs. rry and a sister of hers, Mrs.
Schimmelpennin'ck a beautiful woman, who mar
ried a German, or rather, I believe, a Dutchman
for the purpose of visiting, improving, and relieving
the poor of the metropolis. Each lady had her I
district appointed, and some of these spread over j
extremely oar neignoorhooas ; but the tounaers
of this society maintained that, in the very worst,
there existed no danger for the visitor ; and they
themselves fearlessly set the example of going into
quarters that less enthusiastic women would have
certainly eschew ed.
. Lucy, however, was an enthusiast both in benev
olence and religion; and she would have despised
1 i,' i' n 1 t 1 ii
nerseii ior reiusing to ioiiow where those sue iook-
ed up to led. - She therefore cheerfully accepted the j
district appointed to her, which was none of the 1
best ; and as experience seemed to confirm the opiu- j
ion f the presiding ladies, she went amongst all j
sorts of people without fear -witnessing an immense
deal of vice, from which generally, though the least '
corrupted, the women were the deepest sufferers,
and it was by them she was most grateful ly receiv-j.
ed. Often, when the men were sullen, the wives ;
expressed by' their tears feelings they durst not oth-j
erwise give vent to above all, when they saw their :
sick children relieved' and comforted.. . ;
. Amongst others there was a house in her dis- j
trict, the ground-floor of which was occupied by '
some people by the name of Vennell. The family
consisted of a man and his wife, and two children ; j
j: and although they lived in a great deal of. dirt and
l inuddle, and apparent wretchedness, they did not i
; the less to be expected,- that Yennell, from all she
coukl learn, was an. idle fellow, who followed no
regular occupation, and his wife was a sickly wo
man, not fit for any.
On the whole, it. was a very unpromising sort of
menage ; and on Lucv's first visit the woman re-
; ceived her so uncivilly, saving, amongst other
! things, that they Avanted nothing of her, that she
had not repeated it Being informed, however,
some time afterwards, that Mrs. Vennell was very
ill, she.' called, and found her in bed with a rheu-I n
trict physician to attend her, but being anxious to
make an impression on the woman, who, from hav-
ing rejected, her ministrations, she concluded to be
more than commonly in want ot them, she return-
ed freouentlv. carrying her such little comforts and
mdulgences as the tunds ot the society eouja attord,
and often reading to her for an 'hour by her bed
side; . The effect of all this kindness, however, was
not very -visible. , The woman seemed in a certain
decree grateful, but she was not softened. She
continued close and reserved, "and there was a dark,
omnious cloud even on her brow, that produced an
involuntary impression against her. Nevertheless,
Lucy, whose enthusiasm was only exalted bv diffi
culties, felt that the worse Mrs. Vennell's spiritual j
condition was the more she was bound to persevere
in her efforts to ameliorate if, so she continued her
visits, though by this time the woman was able to
rise from her bed, and was fast recovering her usual
state of health j". , .
One afternoon, late in the month of October, in
the year i81Gj, Lucy had been visiting her district,
and finding she had a little wine to spare; which
she thought Ajvould be an excuse tor a call on ilrs.
Yennell, she went round that way. The woman
was np, nursing one of 'her children, both of w hom
were young ; but she looked unusually sallow, and,
a4 Lucy thdught, the cloud on her brow lowered
darker than ever
! " I've brought you a little wine to strengthen
you," she said ; " auJ- as I have half an hour to
spare, I have something here I should like to read
to you." "
" I'm obliged to you for the wine," she answered ;
"butl don't wan't the reading: it don't do me
no gx)d, but just makes me worse like."
' " No," said Lucy ; " I'm sure what I read can't
make vou worse ; but perhaps it makes vou think
yourself worse,, and that's a good sign. . We are in
the way to mend when we see how bad we are."
44 1 can't mend, and it's no use," answered the
woman ;. 44 it's ven well for them as is difierentlv
situated ; bnt where' one's lots cast one must
bide." . '
r " Nobody's lot is cast in wickedness," answered
" That's more than you can tell," said the woman
sullenly. . 44 Ydu irentlefolks come anionsc us, and
bring us wine and doctor's stuff, and" no doubt we
ought to be thankful, for you're noways obligated to
doit; but for your readings and your preachings
thev ean't do us no good, 'cause bur necessities is
stronger than words printed upon paper, and when
maybe we might wish to be better than we are, we
can t ; perhaps there s them as won t let us some
j times want won't let us." .
! 'A11 that you say is yery sad "answered Lucy
but depend on it wiekf-dness and imnietv can
never improve anybodv's circumstances in the long
run, though it may seem so for a little while. . time, more dead than alive. Mr. Spencer, she was
"We poor folks hant no time to look for'ards." informed, had been. at home, but was gone out to
returned Mrs. Yennell. "We must find bread for , the lecture, t cry much surf risel and somewhat
ourselves and our children from one day to another, alarriied at he absence. Exhausted and distres
and if we cant get it by fair work we mus get it ' sed, she went to bed, arid waited hi return. At
which wav we earn" I eleven o'clock he came home, very tired, for be had
" But dishonest wavs are like false friends, my
good Mrs. Yennell-
" Don't call me good : what I am, I am ; I'm
I no hypocrite." -
; " And. I like you the better for that, and I've the
more hope of vou,"
. Mrs. Yennell shook her head, and could not be
brought to admit that thenawas anv hooe of her;
as late opportunities of observation, and she inclined
.11 . ....
trom several obscure hints she had drop-
her husband lived bv some dishonest
in which the wife took her part more or
u uul luioui ceriiuu retrreLs suiu vjujl-
mgs'aner a better- state, hat ehnell s occupa
tion was she did not know ; his wife said, in an
swer to her inquiries that he jobbed about ; but
she had never yet happened to see him.
After some, further conversation, she took her
leave, impressed with the idea that the woman was
more than usually uneasy and desponding, and
that it was not like the desnondencv arisino- from
want or the apprehension of it, but more like the
darkness of a spirit. clouded by a troubled consci
ence. The door of the house opened into a dismal
sort of lane, skirted on the Opposite side by a dead
wall of no great height, which divided it from a
churchyard ; one of those churchyards in the heart
of the metropolis, about which so much has. lately
been written. As Lucy walked up the lane, a man
passed her, in company with a deformed lad, who
was apparently extremely i tipsy. The man was
dressed like a laborer, and she looked back after
him, wondering if it was Yennell. As she turned
her head he turned too, and their eyes met for a
momcm ; out uie Doy reeieu about -so distressingly
that she hastened on to escape the disagreeable
spectacle. Her thoughts a good deal occupied with
the'state of the woman she had left, she had reach
ed the neighborhood of her own home before she
discovered that her bag was left behind. It was a
tolerably capacious one, which she usually took
I i. K V L -I .
wiui uer uu iuete- expeaiuons. as it woiua carry a
1 tti - - r ' . i
sman ooiue oi wine, or anv other little matters she
wished to distribute ; and as k happened, it con-
tained on th present occasion about five pounds of
money, most or it belonging to the society. The
loss of it, therefore, would be serious : and although
it was already late, and would involve her not be-.
ing at home at the usual dinner hour, she thought,
considering where the thing was left, it would be
better to return tor it immediately; so she retrac
ed her steps as rapidly as she could, entered the
door of the house, which, for the convenience of
its various inhabitants, stood always open, and
grouped her way, for it was now; quite dark, to-
wards VennelPs room, the door- of which, w as
ajar. j ,
" What signifies V said a man, as Lucy, hearing
his voice, paused a moment, hesitating whether to
go forward u w;hat signifies I told you they
wanted one for the lecture this evening, and there
wasn't no time to stand shilly-shally.
Set on the
water to boil."
W In- mill 'f rin rri- yvi swt-
place as you got 'em afore V
"'Cause! only got the order this; morning ; and
it arn't so easy, wom.an. j There was a rumpus last
night out at Islington, w-here them doctors was,
and they was nigh taken ; and that's why they
sent to me. Make haste with the water, will
you ? They'll be here afore we're .ready." ,
Just as he jsaid these words, and"as Lucy, having
no notion to what their Conversation alluded, was
chance, or whether he heard some sound that awa-
j kened his suspicions, ennell turned his head and
j saw her standing in the; passage. To rush out,
; seize ner oy the arm, drag her into the room,
! and close the door, was the work of an in-
" Don't scream !" said the woman, dartinc for
ward and laying her hand1 on Lucv's mouth -"don't-
scream, and you shan't be hurt V,
Lucy did not scream, but she answered with
a trembling voice : " I came back-for my ba;x ?"
44 1 know what vou came back for," said the
man : 44 1 saw you watching me in the lane just
"Hush !" said the woman ; "she did leave her
'Ll T.I 1
i vrt nere. L.et her co, John she came lor no
i harm." '-.' - j
i But the man stood sullenly grasping her arm
" Sit down there !" he said, thrusting her towards
a chair " bit you down there, 1 say. JUafce vour-
I self at home nce vou are here !"
Terrified into silence,: she obeyed, and he went
i behind her; the woman followed him, and pre-
sently she heard a struggle, but no words. An
indescribable fear that some mischief was prepar
ing for her made her turn her head,- and as she did
so, her eyes fell upon the bed, over which a sheet
j was spread, but under the sheet lay a form that
' made her blood turn cold, for she felt certain it was
a corpse. At the same time the woman was hold
ing the man's arm, and endeavoring to wrest some
thing out of his hand : . the room was lighted only
.. ........ . .
by one dim candie. winch shed its gioomy gleams
upon this scene of horrors.
" No, John '."' said the woman 44 No, not if I
die for it ! She's come-to see me, and brought me
thinirs through all mv ! sickness !" But the man
: did not seem disposed to relinquish his purpose,
' 1. .1 ! 11 1 1- iV 1
r whatever it was ;. when suddenly his wue maue a
I thrust at him with all her strength, and threw him
1 backwards on the'bed. I
! " Run !" she cried to Lucv "run '"' making a
i iesture with her hand towards the door "Turn
i the kev this wav : and as vou've a soul to be
i saved, never tell what you've seen this night!"
j , The furritive heard the last words as she fled
' along the passage into the lane; but the man was'
alter her. and she was not six yards m advance oi
him when she heard the sound of wheels, and a
hackney coach passed, j " Save me save me
she cried in a frantic voice; but either the driver
did not hear her, or hethougnt it was some drunk-
en squabble wliich did not call for his interference,
so he drove .forward : but the interruption seemed
, to have changed v ennell s purpose, tor she pre-
sently reached the end of the lane unpursued, and
; making all the speed she could till she found her
self in a less dantrprous heio-hborhooJ. she steppei
- info a coach, and arrived at home long after dinner
been out nearly the whole of the preceding night
His first words were words of displeasure : " hy
had she not been at home at dinner-time F
u Tell me, Gerald," she answered, 44 where were
you all last night ?" I
" What is that to you ?" he asked. '
"It's as much to me as it is to you to know
where I have been this afternoon
"I beg youpf pardotT Lucy; I was out on
" But I want to know what business,"
"My dear little wifej men have often business
they cannot trust women with.
Oh this occasion, Gerald, I beseech you trust
me. ! I never before made any inquiries about
your midnight excursions with "O'Grady, but now
I have very strong motives for doing so."
"What motives P j
"Motives that concern your safety!"
" My safety, Lucy !" he rejoined in some alarm ;
where is there1 any danger f
' You were at Islington, .last night, Gerald !
been sitting by the fire
warming his feet, rose and walked to the bedside,
Who told you, Lucy I I hope you have not
been induced by any. ridiculou jealousy tc spy into
my business! If you have, liojJ very angry,
It's a thing I couklTiot put up ifnin a wife,'how
ever much I loved her."
I see I'm right," she said, sitting up in bed and
confronting him, with a pale haggard countenance.
44T hoped I was riot. I have been praying that my
suspicions might be unfounded. You know a man
called Yennell, Gerald ?"
" Vennell ! What do you mean ?"
44 A man that lives at the back of St. S -Church.
He's, a murderer !" '
"Nonsense ! I see your mistake. But what in
the world has brought vou in contact with Yennell?"
" There's no mistake : I tell you he's a murderer,
and it's 3-ou that makes him one ! You've been
lecturing to- night ?"
Of course 1 have, answered Mr. Spencer, still
incredulous, and still half aiiCTV.
44 And you had what you call a a subject ?"
" Well, if 1 had ? I'll tell you whatLucv," he said
sharply, " If I had'nt had subjects, you would'nt be
Mrs. Spencer : so. mind vour own business, and
don't be foolish."
Oh Gerald, Gerald, how the love of gain bliuds
you to rirht and wrong: The man, Yennell, is a
murderer, I say : and I shouldn't be here to tell
you so, now but for his wifeywho enabled me to
make ihv escape. If it hadn't been for her, you
would perhaps have found a subject to-night on
your disseeting-table you little looked for !"
In . the name ot God, what do you mean,
Lucy said Spencer, at leagth roused to a belief
that there was something more in this agitation of
hers than he. had believed.
" Tell me, Gerald," she said 44 was it a man or a
woman you had to-niht " ' J '
44 A man at least, a boy."
44 1 thought so," said Lucy shuddering.' 44 A de
44 Yes, a" deformed boy ! Why !"
Then amidst tears and anguish she told him all
that had happened : how she had visited the woman
and how strange her demeanor had appeared ; how
she had met the man and the boy, and the state of !
intoxication the latter was in ; how she had forgot
ten her bag and returned for it; and finally, how
His fears made him misinterpret my looking
back at him ; and when he saw me in the passage,
he t.u aouot tnougn 1 had vrArjied th murder.
But I saw no" blood," she said ; 44 how wras he kil
" Suffocated," returned Mr. Spencer : 44 but I
supposed by accident. , It. was I that was in the
coach." he said. "I was ffoinsr to fetch the bod v.
and I remember hearing a woman cry, but I little
imagined whose voice it was !" '
" Let us be poor to the end of our days,, Gerald,"
said his wife, " rather than get money by such un
holy means !'' " ,
And Mr. Spencer was sufficiently shocked and
alarmed to follow her advice.
What to do about Vennell he did not know. If
he accused him, the man had it in hk' power to
make very unpleasant disclosures regardino-himself !
and O Gradv ; and besides, Lucy, was extrerhelv
unwilling to implicate the unhappy wife. Finally,
after some consultation, it was agreed to warn Ven
nell of his danger, and then to take such measures
as would prevent a recurrence of th.e crime. But
the discovery of Williams and his associates, imme
diately afterwards, led to a full exposure of these
dreadful practices, and to a more judicious legisla
tion, which put a stop to Siiem by removing the
Lncy's bag was returned, with all its contents
that name was transported' at the same time that
saie, ov Airs. ennen, ana tne man i nave cauea u
Williams was executed. The
whose real name is not ot course here given, rose
i j . i
afterwards to considerable eminence in his profes
sion, and, I believe, died w ithin the last ten years.
THE VICTIMIZED LODGER;
A MISTAKE OF THE NIGHT TIMES.
BY PAUL CREYT0X.
Mr. Benj. F. Derby returned in town, and to his
lodgings at Mrs. Covey's, rather sooner than he was
expected. It was late in die" evening, andentering
by means of his night key, and rinding nobody
stirring, he walked leisurely up to his room.
This was the apartment Mr. Derby had always
occupied in Mrs. Covey's house : but on this oc
. . . .. .
casion it seemed to him vem little like home.
Before leaving town he. had carefully put away all
his clothes-in his trunks, and during his absence,
other revolutions had been made in the room,
which gave it a different air. .
Isot the least disagreeable thing m the room, was
the darkness. Mr. Derby had entered without a
lamp ; but after knocking over an ink-bottle, a
vase, and a snuff-box, in' his blind search, he con
cluded that the wisest course would be to stop
swearing, and go to bed in the dark.
In no very good humor, Mr. Benj. F. Derby
began to undress. To return home after an ab
sence of two weeks, and to be obliged to go to bed
in such a dismal manner, alriiost broke his heart
He might have rung for the servants, it is true, and
he might have reflected that his friends were ex-
cusable, sinde they did not expect him ; but Mr.
Benj. F. Derby chose to be angry and silent (
And where is Margaret Mana r rnuttered the
unhappy man. " Oh, faithless daughter of an un
feeling landlady ! I did not expect this from vou !
Wheail tore myself from your arms two weeks
ago, you protested with tears in your eyes and
perfidy in your heart, that you would watch, with
the anxious eyes of love, for my. return. Oh, thus
looks like it ! . Even now, I know you are making
yourself merry with some fresh conquest or, if you
are sleeping under this roof, you are dreaming ot
pleasures in which I have no share f
So saying, Mr. Benj. F. Derby threw his trow-
sers on a chair, and began to grope his way in the
darkness' to the head of the bed. At this moment.
a merry laugh, close to his chamber door, startled
him. Mr. Derby paused.
44 Margaret Maria's laugh, by all that is false. !"
groaned Mr. Derby. u She said that she should
do nothing but sigh and weep during my absence
and hear her ! ah ! shedaughs again. The false
heartef !" - '
Mr. D.'s reflections were suddenly interrupted by
the sound of a hand grasping the doordatch. "W ith
considerable trepidation he flew to lock ne door ;
but before he could reach it a merry gh. a blaze
of light, and two girls entered the oom.
. Now Mr. P. was a very iaot person, and it
was a lucked! 25jjpo? . ynim that the closet
door was j e JewAvetneul, tud his limbs
active. lie dodged out of sight before the girl
had time to cast their eyes about them ; and soon
the door was shut, and Mr. D.'s ears pinned back.
44 What time do yon suppose it s ?" asked Mar
garet Maria. 44 There 1 the bells are striking twelve!
Oh, hain't we had a gay time, Susan i"
" Gay enough," was Susan's reply. 44 Ha ! ha!
but wouldn't your poor, dear, absent Derby be
'amused if he knew w .
, " Ua ! ha ! ha !" laughed Margaret Maria, 44 My
poor, dear, absent Derby! This is 'too good ! If
he knew, poor fellow ! it would break his heart.
He thinks I do nothing but igh during his absence.
Am I such goose V
" Such a goose ! Oh !" groaned Derby,- painfully '
interested. " Oh ! oh i"
" Such a goose ?" echoed .Susan. "He would
not think so if he had 6een!yo'u eat the oysters
with DanRobbins?" ' - .
" I only hope," added Margaret Maria, "that he
will keep away a week longer."
4So that w e can have his room ?? '
" No not exactly that but Dan has invited
me to go to a ball, onv Thursday night, and you
know 1 couldn't go if my pxr, dear, absent Derby
should come back- in the meantime."
Lerby was trembling with cold and wrath.
" You mean to marry Derby, then ?" asked Su
san. 44 1 suppose I shall," cried Margaret Maria, gaily.
44 1 like to flirt with Dan, and if he had as many
dollars as my, poor, dear absent Derby' "
44 You would choose Dan ?" ;
" To be sure I would lie aint such a fool as "
" Derby, Ha ! ha! But what is this ? A coat
a pair of pantaloons,"
" Goxlness gracious 1 Iloijv did they come here?"
Derby was trembling with excitement burn
ing with rage; but how he felt a new source of
uneasiness. The discovery of his pantaloons
might lead to the discovery of himself. Had he
heen dressed he v-ould have liked nothing better
than to confront the perfidious Margaret Maria,
but for the present it was not to be thought of.
He felt himself blushing all over, in spite of the
cold. To his sfdief, however, the girls, after mak
ing themselves 6ure that there was nobody in pr
under the bed, did not seem disposed to inquire
into the mystery of the pantaloons; but Margaret'
. "I'll tell you what I will do Sue. I'll dress
myself in these clothes, and go into widow Slade's
room. She'lk think it's a man, and won't she be
frightened ?' v
44 Frightened ? No !" cried Susan. She's had
two husbands. Xiut do it- See what she will say."
44 1 will. Here, help me, Sue. Ha! ha! and
here's a hat, too. ,How kind in somebody to leave
all his clothes here." ' - '
Derdy poor, dear, present Derby, was breath
ing very hard; his heart beat heavilv,and everv
nerve hooL What the duce was he to do, if
Margaret Maraa went off with his pants, he could
in no mannon determine ; and from the exceedingly
interesting, conversation :which was going on, he
saw that his. w-osst fears were to be realized. '
"Oil, ain't it a fit ?" cried Margaret Maria. "On
ly turn up the- trowsersfive or six inches, and I,
shall be fixed. Here,1 black my upper, lip with this
bit of coal. . I shan't make love to you. Ha ! lia !
ha! Ain't I a dashing fellow ?"
And Derby could hear somebody kissing some-
1 boIy, and somebody was laughing as if she could
not help it. , -
A moment after, the inrls had left the room.
Derby stole timidly from his hiding place. Mar-
; garet Maria had taken the lamp and his clothes:
with her; she had left darkness and her own clothes
behind. A happy thought struck the unhappy Der
by. . Iu all ba.te he enrobed himself in Margaret
Maria's gown, then he threw her shawl over his
shoulders, and put On her bonnet and veil. -His
eyes having become accustomed to the darkness, he
could see to do this without much difficulty. In
five minutes, he was ready to follow Susan and
During this time, there was a great deal of
laughing up stairs. Margaret Maria in Derby's
attire, Went to Mrs. Slade's-room, who was a little
startled at first, but who' took things very cooly-;
until she found that it was not a man after all,
when she virtuously gave vent to her indignation.
The adventurers next proceeded to the attic, where
the girls were sound asleep. Susan having placed
the lamp in the passage, hid behind the door, whilst
Margaret Maria, entered, and awoke Jane Woods '
with a violent shower of kisses ' Jane uttered a
faint .scream, and demanded in a whisper,
44 Who are you ?"
44 Hush !" said Margaret Maria. . .. -
Jane hushed accordingly, until she saw the
strange figure proceed to Mary Clark's pillow,
w hen s-he thonght it her duty to scream. Mary
scream sd, too, after' she had been severaL, times
kissed;: and Sarah Jones- joined in the chorus,
until her mouth was stopped by a hearty bus.
"Is it voti, George ?"8be whispered.
At that moment the strange figure, which had 1
beecf seen by the light m the passage, ran out, ana
j Susan, catching up the lamp, ran in
" Whv, what is the matter? she cried, in pre
" There has been a man in the room." V
" He was kissing Sarah Jones."
" He didn't kiss me. He was kissing Mary
"Me. I guess I'd have torn his eyes out It
was Jane Woods he kissed.''
Susan was very much astonished, of course ; and
the girls were very indignant ; and not one of them
would confess that she had been kissed, until Sus
an pointed out the marks of the coal moustache
on all their faces, and called in Margaret Maria.
Then there was a great deal of laughing; and
Margaret Maria, having gallantly kissed them all
again, set out to go down stairs. i
But now It was Derby's turn to haTe a little fun,
and Margaret Maria's to be astonished. As Susan
advanced, the lamp she carried revealed a frightful,
looking object standing ,at the foot of the stairs.
It was apparently a woman of gigantic structure ;
her dress was so short that her bare feet and ancles
could be seen distinctly ; and she waved her large,
bony hand at the terrified girls, majestically as a
Concluded on -fourth pfff-)