- (,'AXVIN II. WIIj'Elif'. y I, 1 ri A TTrnTT-n -rv it '-ri i -i Vtt rr - -t-ttt ---r - "TV I TvnTv -TTiiTTni-rx . ' i ' ' - i, 1. l l.-.u.-. .-.wi-''""- A Mil I lll-.li.N r A .'II 1,1 JNEVVof A1EK JN-tiUlKAL IN POLITICS. TERMS: TWO DOLLARS PER ANNUM. ii mm. etc. Ife v- - Mtfll TO ILL TM IH OF MM MUNI UTEMTDE NEWS. I iOCJTll, ACHICDLTimB, ;. - V Hi?, If II? i I 1 5iS- iv 2 t 1"1 I. 4 -4 .r-' .' ' ; i - v - I, ' '4 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 -..vprot 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 ItALEI 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 get 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 bread." ; "' 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 you! have." 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 known."- 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 ; sequences 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 I'- IT 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 Lucv. h " 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 I 4. i 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 SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 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- the same 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- i stant. " 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 now.,". ; "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 business," " 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 ! 28, 1852. 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?" v " 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 formed bov 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 she escaped. 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 led." " 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 motive. ' 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 vounr surgeon, 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 NO. 13. 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' Maria exclaimed . "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 Margaret Maria. 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 tended astonishment- " There has been a man in the room." V " He was kissing Sarah Jones." " He didn't kiss me. He was kissing Mary Clark." "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-) '