University of South Carolina Libraries
% ** * * V * v ?L LEWI?i.?R^T' i ~ ^it |nii(^ciit Jkiril^ IWn^ftr: Jor l|e ^rauiotioit oHjic political, Sooaf ^gftaltaral^ Commmial fntetsta of % j$otrf|. = ^ TER^w"? c n^?Ad .^.U*' Proprietor. j . ? * VOL. 14. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JAJSTTTARY 16, 1868. NO. 3. COUNTING-HOTJSE ALMANAC FOB 1868. i 3'gig 313 ? IflfiSl SIS IP a iilslgii ,868-*jsj|lN,888-f,|i I LlLUiLn Jan. ...' 1 2 3 4 July...1 12 3 4 5| C 7 8 9 10 11 5 6 7 8 91011 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24'25 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 ' 23 27 28 29 30 31 J 26 27 28 29 30 31 ... FEB. l ADO. ...| 1 2341567 8 2| 345678 9 10 11112 13 14 18 9:10 11 12 13 14 15 1617 18 19 20 21 22 1617 18 19 20 2142 23 24 25 26 27 2S 29. 23,24 25,26 27 28 29 Mar J 30 31 ! 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 Sept 1 2; 3 4 5 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 6 7 8 9:10 11 12 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 22 23 24 25 26 27:28 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 29 30 31 27 28 29 30......... Apr 1 2 si 4 Oct. 12 3 6 6 7 8 9 10 11 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 12 13 14 15 16 17 18, 11 12 13 14 15 16'17 19 20 21 22 23 24 25-' 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 26 27 28 29,30: I 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 May L.I 1 2 Nov .. 3 4 5 6 7j 8 9 1 2 3 4i 5 6| 7 10 1112 1314115 16 8 9 10 11112 13! 14 17 18 19 20 21122 23, 15 16 17 18,19,20; 21 24 25 26 27 28! 29 30 22 23 24 25 26 27:28 31 ! 29 30 ....... June ... 1 2 3i 4l 5 6 Dec 1 2 3 4, 5 . w ... * a *? a a m il io r 7 81 9 10111 ilJS lSi| oi / oi wuuiniAx, 14 15 10 17 18 19 201 13,14 15 1G 17|18|19 c 21 22 23 24 25,26'27 20,21 22:23 24:25 26 1 28 29:30 ... I... j...! ...lj 27128 29:30 3l|...|.... 1 ??i^??????? ? Jto Original Jtorp. * Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. THE OLD SABDENEB'S REVENGE- " BY CLAUDE FORRESTER. CHAPTER I. a "I have nothing whatever to do with your do- ^ mestic affairs. If the hedges are not trimmed by j the time agreed upon, I shall consider the contract violated on your part and feel justified in withhold- g ing every part of the payment already due." 1( "But, sir,?" % S1 "There is no manner of use in arguing the mat- <j ter, Mr. Daniels. When I return to my office to d night, I shall expect to find your task completed. In that case, you may call upon me to-morrow morn- S| ing, or as soon as you may fiad it convenient, and I shall promptly fulfil my part of the contract, by g paying the fiill amount of my indebtedness. Good j, morning, sir." And, so saying, the speaker hur- ^ riedly vaulted into the saddle,, and, putting spurs j to his horse, was gone before the old man could u reply. "And is it possible!" he exclaimed, looking after his departing employer; his countenance pale with ^ indignation and perplexity. "In the name of all ^ that is good and honest in human nature, does the man?thischristiangentleman?reallymean that?" a "Mean what, Mr. Daniels; and of whom are you ? speaking?" asked a beautiful young girl, who, un- a observed, had been walking in the garden. g "To be guilty of an act of such gross injustice, n Miss Louisa;?I am speaking of your father," re- 1< plied the old man, looking sadly down upon the y gravel walk. n "My father guilty of an act of injustice!" ex- a claimed the lady, indignantly. "Pray, sir, be so tl good as to inform me what has occurred to drive ? you to such a harsh conclusion." n "It does not matter,'' said the old gardener, has- ti tily turning away and walking meditatively toward jf the gate. "But are you not going to work to-day?" asked b the young lady, following the gardener to the gate, f "No, Miss Louisa. My wife is ill?dangerously r so?and I have no heart for work this morning; 0 beside which, I am in duty bound to beat her side f< and to minister to her wants. I only came here ti this morning to inform your father of my inability a to finish my work to day on account of domestic a t affliction." t< "Well, certainly; that is no fault of yours," said b Louisa; "and the little work that remains to be ti done here can be completed next week just as well as to-day. Father did not object to all this, I am a sure." y 9 WT kn L a nvkMrMw +L a mnmnn f T VUJCVJl i TT lljr UV gicvr au{jijf tut uiuiuwi. jl gj alluded to the circumstance; and not only refused to allow a suspension of the work, which has been a going on so uninterruptedly for the last two weeks, d but actually threatens to deprive me of every cent r of money which is already due me for the whole of fi the last thirteen day's work. p "I am sure, that father docs not mean this, Mr. 0 Daniels," said the young girl, evidently mortified. "But, how much longer would it take to finish the t work that remains to be done?" j, "I could have completed my task by sunset," ( replied the old man. e "Only one day!" said Louisa, thoughtfully. e Then, after a few moment's silence, she looked up ft with a sweet smile, and said: "If your wife would e only allow me to nurse her to-day until your work is completed, perhaps you would be a few dollars 0 richer to-morrow morning, and your wife none the worse for my attention. It would be a pity for you b to lose the reward of your toil, when its completion s; 1 is so near at hand.'' d "It would be more than a pity, Miss Louisa," a said the old man, a flush of anger passing over his M venerable face. "It would be a crying shame before God and man?a downright swindle and cheat, n for which the perpetrator would richly entitle him- \\ self to a cell in the county jail." t, "Why, Mr. Daniels!" exclaimed Louisa. "I mean exactly what I say," said the old man, p much excited. "Two weeks ago I found this gar- g den a perfect wilderness of weeds and poisonous $ briars. Your father, uuon his own terms, engaged u me to go immediately to work and put matters to c lights, with the understanding that everything was to be completed in fourteen days. I have weeded c the entire garden, put fresh gravel and shell in n every walk, erected arbors, adjusted and trimmed a every bush, plant tree and vine, until one scarcely t knows this to be the same place. Every thing is v now completed but these hedges, which require a ii considerable amount of trimming, but all of which k would have been done by sunset, had nothing occurred to prevent it Now, on the morning of the t very last day's work, your father, on whose prop- ii crty I have expended so much toil and no little mon y, positively threatens to defraud me of my y just earnings, because I solicit the right of minis- t teridg to a sick wife. I have no words, with which ? I can express the indignation I feel towards such a man." t "Stop, Mr. Daniels! Don't go away in such a s passion," said Louisa, as the old man turned to b leave. "Father would not be so unjust as to keep back a farthing of your money; and I feel satisfied p that he would not deprive you ot tne sad pleasure of attending to your sick wife. Perhaps he only told you what he did, to expedite the completion & of your work. Now, listen to me a moment: I I will again offer to act in the capacity of nurse, if fi you agree to remain here and finish your work.? s Say the word, and I will instantly put on my bon- t! net and go at once to your house. Should your p wife grow worse, or should she even express disap- r probation with our little plan, I will immediately let you know of it.e 'I see how it is, Miss Louisa," said the old 1 man; "andit is needless to attempt to disguise d the fact You evidently feel satisfied in your own t mind, that your father will be as good as his word, md actually keep back my wages, if I do not complete the work this very day. Your offer is a very and one, under the circumstances; but I do not eel justified in accepting it. "Your father may not ike it, and my wife may prefer her husband to any )ther nurse. We must humor the sick, you know." "Suppose you ask your wife's consent, after staling all the circumstances of the case. Father does lot care much about my out-goings or in-comings; 10 you need feel no delicacy .on that point." "I have a mind to take your advice," said the rid man, after a few moments reflection. "I can carcely afford the loss of so much time and money.'' "By all means, go," said Louisa, eagerly. "It vill not consume many moments, and I will wait lereforyou. Won't you? That's a dear, kind rid soul!" "Enough!" said the old man, pressing the proffered hand to his lips. "I shall talk the matter >ver with my wife if she is not too ill; but, instead >f remaining here until my return, meet me at my l92t after awhile, and I will let you. know whether )T not "your plan will answer." And, so saying, he old gardener hurried away without awaiting a eply. CHAPTER H. # "Aha!" said Mr. Graveley, as he drove past lis spacious gardens about an hour later; "so the ?ld rascal has concluded to go to work after all, eh! Nothing like firmness, after all, by jove! Sick rife, indeed! Bet almost anything that his wife is s well as I am. Jacob!" "Sir." "Know where Mason street is?" "Yes, sir," replied the driver, wondering what a the world his master wanted in that locality. "Then drive to number thirty-four." "All right sir!" ******** "Hark! somebody raps at the door!" exclaimed pale and emaciated woman, suddenly sitting upight in her bed and gazing wildly towards the oor. "Lie down, Mrs.-Daniels," said a beautifulyoung irl, gently forcing the invalid back upon her pil>w. Then bathing the fevered temples of the ufferer with cologne water, she added, in an unertone: "What shall I do, should she become elirious?" "What's that?" asked the sick woman, again tarting up and looking about the room. "Oh my!?what shall I do ?" said the young irl, going towards the window and timidly lookig down into the street Then suddenly starting ack, as she observed her father's carriage at the oor, she added: "Now, was any tiling ever so nfortunate!" "Is everybody dead in the house?" cried the river, looking up to the open window, and banglg away with his whip-handle upon the closed oor. The young girl glanced timidly towards the bed; nd there sat the sick woman, bolt upright, her ice flushed with fever, her grey hairs hanging bout her shoulders ; and her dark, sunken eyes laring wildly in the direction from whence the oise proceeded. The idea of being absolutely a)ne with what, to her, appeared a crazy woman, ras rather too much for those tender, untasked erves; and, yet, how could she abuse the trust nd confidence of the poor old gardener and vacate be bedside of his sick wife? "Surely," she said, Mr. Daniels could not have imagined for a uiolent, that his wife was so ill, when he consented o allow me to nurse her for him. Heavens 1 she j getting up!" Sure enough, the distracted woman, perfectly eside herself with fever, had sprang suddenly rom the bed, and was now staggering across the oom towards the pitcher of water, which stood upn the window-sill. She shuddered from head to X)t as the cool air from the window came in conict with her scantily robed person; and, clutching t the frail sash for support, it yielded, gave way nd broke in a hundred pieces, covering the now jrrified and prostrate woman, with fragments of roken wood and glass and the entire contents of be large stone pitcher. Losing all presence of mind, and vaguely concious that something terrible had occurred, the oung girl uttered a piercing scream, and fell insenible upon the floor. At this juncture,. Mr. Gravely, hearing the crash nrJ cnnirle nf trlasa. the scream of a woman and a ull heavy sound, like the falling of a human body, ashed unceremoniously into the house. Running rom room to room and occasionally calling out and ausing to listen for a reply, he suddenly threw pen the door of the sick woman and entered. "Ha!" he exclaimed, observing the wet floor, he broken glass, the rumpled, and, apparently, ast vacated bed. "What does all this mean? )ld Daniels has no wife here, at all events. Let ae seeand, as he said this, he turned andlookd about him; then with a cry of horror, he started ack and grew ashly pale, for the form outstretchd beside the old sofa and lying motionless as death Self, was none other than that of his idolized and nly daughter, Louisa. With a cry of despair he got down on his knees eside her, turned the motionless body over on its ide and called mournfully upon her by every enearing name. Then starting wildly to his feet, he pproached the window and caljed for his servant, rho immediately hurried into the house. "In the name of the Holy Virgin 1 what is this, ly master?" exclaimed the terrified driver, trembng from head to foot as he recognized the councnance of his lovely young mistress. "God knows, Jacob," said the agitated father, aising the body of bis daughter and placing it ently upon the bed. Then perceiving a slight car upon the pearly brow and a few drops of blood ipon the floor, he became perfectly furious and ailed loudly upon the police. "Compose yourself my dear master," said Jaob, gently placing his hand over Mr. Gravely's aouth. "For your family's sake, do not create an larm here. Remember, that this is Mason street; he most dcsreputable portion of the city, and it rould never do for your daughter to be found here i this condition and under circumstances of so ouch mystery." Mr. Gravely started, as though some terrible hought had flitted through his mind, and ranked n his heart. "Your daughter lives, sir," continued the drier, taking his master's hand, and placing it upon he bosom of Louisa. "l)o you not feel the puisaions of her heart?" "I do!?I do, Jacob!" exclaimed Mr. Gravely, he tears streaming down his cheeks. "But, what hall be done ? For heaven sake, Jacob, direct me tow to act!" "Remove her from this place immediately," reilied the driver. "But how?" ' "I will drive the carriage into the yard, sir," aid Jacob, "and we can privately convey Miss iouisa home. On our way we can call for the imily physician and take him along with us. But ee!?the young lady revives!" And, so saying, he driver, with his customary presence of mind, proceeded to the street to have the carriage in cadiness. With a yawn and a shudder, Louisa opened her yes, and looked bewilderingly about the room.? "aking the hand of her father, and looking wonleringly into his face, she was about to speak, when he driver returned. "Come, sir," he said, addressing himself to r Mr. Gravely. "Every thing is in readiness. -Let ' ns remove the young lady without farther delay." i "Oh 1" exclaimed Louisa, glancing timidly a; bout the room, "take me away, dear papa!"? Then, suddenly rising to a sitting position, she pointed to the wreck of the broken window sash, and asked in a whisper: "Where is she now?" t "Where is who, my daughter?" asked her father, alarmed at the evident agitation and terror of his trembling enquirer. "The woman!?the ghostly looking woman, that-." "Hush, my darling!" said Mr. Gravely. "Tell us all about it when you get home; but do not exert yourself now. We must endeavor to get her to the carriage Jacob." Then turning to the dri"A* AAn^Amwlntmnr a ooona TinfVi vci) nuu ObWU wuvgui^muug I/UU o^uw n*va ?vt\?v%? arms, he added in a whisper, and with a countenance as pale as death: "Her mind is wandering! Depend upon it, something dreadful lias occurred." "Do you think, Miss Louisa," said Jacob, after impatiently consulting his watch, "that you are able to walk between your father and myself, with our support? If so, come at once; and we will assist you to the carriage.'' "But the woman /?the poor, wretched woman! Is she safe?" again asked Louisa, glancing from her father to Jacob. "To whom do you allude, ' my love ? There is no woman here, beside yourself ; nor has there been since we have been in the room. Calm yourself, Louisi, and come with us immediately." And Mr. Gravely assisted her to arise. "Papa," said Louisa, suddenly grovying very pale, and tottering to a chair, "go to that broken window over there and look down into the yard." And, thus speaking, she covered her face with both hands and burst into a passionate fit of weeping. "Merciful heavens 1" exclaimed Mr. Gravely, "are you mad, crazy or what? Come, Jacob? assist me." And as he spoke, he raised Louisa to her feet; and, with the driver's assistance, succeeded in supporting her down to the carriage. . "Listen to me, papal" said Louisa, turning and looking back towards the house. "I am weak? have been terribly alarmed, and suppose l must have fainted; but I am not crazy, when I tell you that there was a poor sick woman in the room, which we have just left. She was delirious?entirely out of her head." "Come, Mr. Gravely I" said the driver, in a tone of impatient entreaty. "For God's sake, don'tstand listening to a tale, which your own eyes must have convinced you has no foundation in fact. If a woman?a delirious woman?was in the room with the young lady, it is not at all likely that she could or would have kept her presence a secret to us both. Miss Louisa has sustained a severe shock of some kind, from the effects of which she has not yet sufficiently recovered to give us a satisfactory explanation. If I may venture to advise, sir, I would say, pay no attention to her wanderings, but drive to her home at once." "No! no, papa!" persisted the agitated girl.? "It is true, that I am too much prostrated at present to give anything like a satisfactory explanation of what has occurred; but I assure you that old Mrs. Daniels was very ill up stairs sometime ago." "Get into the carriage, jny daughter," said her father, coaxingly. "Don't you see how exhausted and nervous you are ? Help her Jacob. So, now! drive on Jacob!" "For the love of Heaven! listen tome, dear papa ! Just one minute !" entreated Louisa. "Mrs. Daniels shall be looked after and attended to, my dear," said Mr. Gravely, as the carriage moved off. "But," persisted Louisa, becoming perfectly wild with excitement, "I saw her get up and go towards the window, and immediately after I heard a terrible crash of ." "Heavens!" exclaimed Mrs. Gravely, "why did you not mention this before ? The woman has, no doubt, been precipitated into the yard, as she was certainly not seen in the room. This is shocking, . terrible?but, what ails you, my dear?" . And as the distracted man turned quickly around to look upon his daughter, she was motionless as death and cold as marble. ***** "The rich grow sick as often as the poor," said the old gardner, as he toiled away in the garden towards sunset "That's the third time, since noon, that Doctor Pendleton has drove up the avenue. I wonder who can be sick, now?" lie*:!! _ 1, ?;_<>> > ouLii at nuiik) oii i The old gardner looked up upon hearing himself addressed, and discovered the speaker to be Mr. Gravely's son, a lad of about ten or eleven years of age. "Yes, my little man;?still at work," said the old man, fanning himself with his hat. "But, thank God! my task will be completed in a few moments now." "Do you know that we have got Yellow Fever in the house?" asked the lad, in a tone of voice denoting considerable alarm. "'Taint possible 1" exclaimed the old man, dropping his pruning knife. "Who is sick with it?" "Sister, sir," said the lad with grieving lip. The old man started. "Your sister!?Miss Louisa?" he exclaimed, staggering up against the hedge, almost breathless with emotion. "For the love of heaven, tell me all about it! "I don't know whether I can do so," said the boy, sitting down upon a wheelbarrow. "All I know about it is, that father brought sister home in the carriage about an hour or so before dinner, and " "What!" exclaimed the old gardner. "You surely do not mean to say that Miss Louisa has been here since noon?" "I think it was a little later, when father and i Jacob bore her into the house." "The Holy Virgin save us!" said the old man, reverently crossing himself. Then, hastily gathering up his tools, he threw his coat over his arm and walked rapidly out of the garden, much to the boy's surprise. CHAPTER HI. "What can it all mean ?" said the old gardner to himself as he hurrried through the busy, bustling city. "Could Miss Louisa have deserted my poor .sick wife ? Is it possible that Maggie has been alone ever since noon ? Then, after offering an apology to a fat alderman, against whose portly personage his spade had come in contact, he added, half aloud: "So the wife of old Daniels is of so little consequence, that nobody could afford to come *V.n? /.nwlnn nml toll inn TJoVlV MlSS Tv?lllSfL flp AlHU LUC gULU^U ?UU vv/ii maw II MJ A-MWW serted her! Well, well; God is good and merciful, and, no doubt, all is well." ' So saying, old Daniels turned from the busy thoroughfare into the less frequented lane leading to Mason-street. Passing hurriedly through a crowd of dirty, barefooted women and vicious-looking men, who were gathered about a peddler, he walked rapidly toward his neat, but humble dwelling. Poverty, not choice, had driven himself and wife to this disreputable locality; and, here, amidst scenes of vice, the worthy couple managed, by frugality and industry, to earn a slim sufficiency of this world's goods. The morning, upon which our story opens, Mrs. Darnels awoke with every symptom of fever, which rapidly became more marked as the day advanced. The hour when her husband usually went to work having arrived, and finding her no better, he concluded to call upon the gen1 tleman employing him at that time, and solicit a holiday, until affairs took a more favorable turn. As has been seen, his application was cruelly rejected by Mr. Gravely, who also seriously threatend to withhold payment for work already done, if the entire job was not completed that veiy day, according to previous agreement In justice, howover, to all the parties concerned, it should be stated, that Mrs. Daniels was not known to be seriously ill; and to this fact, as much as his anxiety for the security of his hard-earned wages, must we attribute her husband's acquiesence in the proposition of Louisa Gravely. When that kind proposition was made, old Daniels immediately returned home and talked the matter over with his wife, who agreed readily and even thankfully, that the rich and beautiful daughter of Mr. Gravely should nurse her until her husband's return. She assured her husband tbat she was feeling much better, and insisted upon on immediate return to his work. Poor woman! The fear of incurring the ill-will of the rich and influential employer; the fear of losing the reward of nearly a fortnight's labor and toil, made her agree to anything that might be suggested to avert such a calamity. She was not feelincr better?the epidemic, which was raging in that miserable locality, had crept, like a serpent, into her tidy house; and fastening itself upon her bosom, was even then sapping the very foundations of her nature. She told him she was better; and thousands of women have done the same thing, when such replies were thought to further the interests of their husbands. Better, when every nerve is wrung with pain and head and heart worn down with anguish; better, when everything is worse; ayel ' even happy, while the poor heart is breaking. * And if he brightens up and grows hopeful at this intelligence; if he goes forward in the battle of life and gathers up his energies for more labor and toil because of these words, that is all she asks?her only reward. Poor woman! Scarcely had her husband's presence been missed ; scarcely had tho beautiful Louisa Gravely sat down in the chair that he had vacated, when Mrs. Daniels found herself alarmingly ill. As the day advanced, she grew rapidly worse, until, by noon, she was delirious with fever and dangerously ill. What could an inexperienced girl like Louisa do ? She had bathed the throbbing temples with cologne, had placed cool, wet cloths upon the fevered forehead, and fed the poor patient with little pellets of ice; but, by the time her father so opportunely arrived, Mrs. Daniels was raging with fever and totally unconscious. Seeing her patient suddenly arise from the bed and walk toward the window, Louisa became a larmed for her own safety, and had turned to nee, when the crash of wood and gingle'of glass struck terror to her timid heart, and temporarily deprived her of that consciousness and self-possession, which were so essential at that critical moment. Upon her return to consciousness?observing the shattered sash and open window, and the absence of her patient?the inference rushed upon her immediately, that, in a fit of delirium, poor Mrs. Daniels had precipitated herself into the yard. When her fears were communicated to her father, it was his intention to return immediately to the house with old Daniels* as soon as his daughter was at home and in safety. Almost any man but Mr. Gravely would have given the alarm at once, and instituted immediate measures for the relief of the poor woman ; but Mr. Gravely argued the matter, mentally, in this way: If she did throw herself from that third-story window into thatbrickpaved yard, she is dead, and nothing more can be done for her but to give her a decent burial. There being no necessity for haste in that matter, what concerns me most now, is to remove my daughter from this sink of vice as soon as possible and have her attended to immediately. So Louisa was taken home, put immediately to l>ed and very shortly became alarmingly ill. Instead of returning to look after the poor woman in Mason-street, Mr. Gravely was walking madly up and down his fine mansion, perfectly distracted, and Jacob had gone a considerable distance, with the carriage, after a physician. And all this time old Daniels was toiling away in the garden, utterly unconscious of what had occurred. ****##*# The street door was ajar and the parlor wide open, as the old man entered his hitherto happy home. Quietly laying aside his tools, he noiselessly ascended the staircase; called aloud, "Maggie!" when half way up, and paused to listen. No rupiy came. With a pallid cheek and a heart profoundly filled with apprehensions of evil, he staggered up the remaining flight of stairs, calling, as he went, "Maggie!?Maggie 1" Hearing no reply, he hastily threw open his wife's chamber door and entered. No Maggie there I The usually tidy bed was tumbled and disordered, the floor wet with water and tracked with muddy feet, chairs overturned and fragments of glass about the room. Instinctively, and with a smothered cry of horror and dismay, the old gardener hastened to the open window, and with a shudder, looked down into the yard. No Maggie there! With a sigh of relief he turned from the window' and searched almost every portion of the house; until at last, overcome with his hard day's work, and the torturing suspense of mind, he threw himself upon an old ottoman and burst into tears. Suddenly he started up, and putting on his best coat and hat, hurried out of the house with a glad, hopeful smile upon his honest old face. "Strange," he remarked, "that the idea-never occurred to me before! Zounds 1 what a poor old fool I am, to be sure! Running about like a madman and calling upon Maggie, when I might have known that Miss Louisa would not have the heart to leave her here all alone. Well! well I I might have known as much, from the very fact that nobody took the trouble to tell me anything about her; whereas, if they had been compelled to desert her, they certainly would have told me the very first one." And the old man laughed aloud, and walked briskly forward. ****** ** The cool shadows of twilight were creeping around and enveloping the Gravely mansion. An unusual and impressive silence reigned throughout the stately edifice, so vocal before with music, song and laughter; and as the eye looked up inquiringly to the closely curtained windows, but one feeble taper glimmered out into the deepening darkness. At the great hall-door two physicians were holding consultation, while Mr. Gravely himself, kept walking to and fro with rapid strides. "And you really think that she is seriously ill?" he asked, suddenly pausing in his walk and confronting the physicians. "We do, sir," was the laconic reply of one of the professional gentlemen. "Then nothing remains to be done," said the distracted father, "but to smooth her passage to the grave as much as possible." ' Muck remains to be done," said the other profissional gentleman. "To-morrow morning she may be better?much better. Everything depends upon the success of the opiate, which we have administered; and to facilitate its free operation upon her nerves, I would advise that the house be kept perfectly quiet, and her chamber as dark as possible. Mr. Pendleton and myself will, by turns, remain at her bedside throughout the night, carefolly noting every change for the better or worse, and prepared to act promptly as the condition of the patient may require. In the meantime, suffe me to advise you to retire as early as possible t your own chamber, as you are sadly in need of rest Your wife makes an excellent nurse for the sick and she, alone, will be admitted to her daughter' room with our consent" Mr. Gravely made no^reply; hut noiselessly en tering the house and carefully closing the door be hind him, left the physicians upon the verandal and tip-toed to the library. Here, throwing himself at full length upon i soft, he buried his face in the soft silky cushion and wept aloud. A'scene to be noted?to be pon dered over, and laid to heart! Tears of anguisl upon crimson pillows of downy velvet! A wrunj heart, amidst scenes of luxury and almost prinoelj wealth 1 Magnificent pictures, in gorgeous frames, o beauteous landscapes, and more beauteous form and faces, looked mockingly down upon the wretch ed man. Exquisite statuary, standing so frigidh calm and beautiful in the angles of the room, wen only haunting ghosts to annoy and distress hin now; while the roses, which bloomed from thoa china vases upon the mantle, spoke not of pleasan fields and lovely gardens, but coffin wreaths anc church-yard flowers. "Curse the hour I employed the old scoundrel!' said Mr. Gravely, suddenly springing from th< sofa and waiting agitatedly about the library.? "Ungrateful wretch 1 To seduce my darling chile from her happy home to that abode of pestilencethatsink of contagious corruption and disease For what ? To nurse his wife!?a woman perfect ly reeking with pestilence! And the villian hieu this! Oh! my God 1 is not my anger just?" "Can I come in, sir ?'' asked a person from with out. "Yes," said Mr. Gravely, hurriedly throwinj open the door. "Is Louisa worse?" "Miss Louisa sleeps at present," said the ol( female domestic; "but it is not about her that' have ventured to disturb you, sir." "What then?" "An old man stands without and insists upoi seeing you. Says his name is Richard Daniels.'' "Daniels! repeated Mr. Gravely, staggerinj back. "iTe wants to see me ? Impossible! He says, that he will not detain you but a fev moments, sir." "Tell him to be gone; and if he does not heec you, set the dogs upon him. Hark!?what nois< is that?" And Mr. Gravely opened the door anc looked eagerly out, "For God sake, old man," said a voice in th< passage way, like some one expostulating with an other, "there is no necessity for this rashness. Yov cannot see Mr. Gravely to-night His daughter ii critically ill; and this violent entry upon his prem ises and into his very house, is a shameful piece o business." "Let him come into tho library I" said Mr Gravely, in an impatient tone of voice. "Thi noise will alarm the whole house." Upon hearing this, old Daniels broke from thi individual detaining him and rushed breathlessly forward. Then falling down upon his knees befori Mr. Gravely, bitterly cried out "For God sake sir 1 tell me what it all means!?where is poor Mag gie ? They tell me that she is not here, but?1" "I must insist upon au immediate cessation U these loud out-cries, Mr. Daniels," said Mr. Grave ly, rudely pulling the old gardener into the library and hastily closing the door. ''You are a presump tious old scoundrel to encroach upon my privac; in this manner, sir. But, since you have so we] established your claim to presumption, let us hea what impudence and impertinence is to follow." "Oh, sir!" exclaimed Daniels, the tears stream ing down his withered cheeks, "I mean no rude ness, no presumption. It is the violence of despai and madness that you see." "But, what is it that you wish?" asked Mr Gravely somewhat moved at the deplorable pligh of the old man. "Who is this Maggie, that yoi are speaking of? Why expect to find her here ?' "My poor, sick wife, sir." "Ynnrwife. indeed!" said Mr. Gravelv. imna tiently turning away. "What do you expect m to know of your wife ?" "Then Bhe is not here?" asked, or rather ex claimed the old man, involuntarily sinking dowi upon a lounge and growing deadly pale. "Of course not. 'Pon my soul! I do not com prehend this remarkably singular conduct, said Mr Gravely. . "But you know where she is, sir." "I again tell you, that I know nothing whateve about your wife or her whereabouts," said Mr Gravely, evidently annoyed. "Then, by all that is good in humanity, I pro nounce you a heartless monster!" said old Daniels much excited. Mr. Gravely turned quickly upon his heel ant looked upon the excited old man, perfectly astoun ded. Then, erecting his fine person, and walking up to Daniels, he laid his open hand heavily upoi his shoulder and thus addressed him: "Daniels, listen to me one moment! You art treading upon dangerous ground?tampering witl an already enraged heart Under cover of youi age you make an unprovoked attack upon me ii my own house, and insult me to my face. Now Daniels, if you will credit my word, I assure yoi that I can scarcely overcome a very strong desireamounting almost to a determination?to kick yoi out of the house. That being the case, I advist you to keep a civil tongue in your head, and giv( me your respectful attention. Ever since I knew you, Daniels, I have endeavored to throw as much work in your way as I possibly could, and to assist you upon all occasions, and in every conceivable way. As a return for these repeated efforts to advance your interests, you induce my only daughter to visit a section ol the city, which you know is not respectable, and in which no young lady can be seen without serious damage to her character. You prevail upor her to visit a portion of the city, which you know is infected with yellow fever; and?to make mat ters worse?actually induce her to attend upon a woman lying ill with that terrible disease. The consequences are that my beautiful, darling Louisa, is now critically ill, the fever introduced into ? ? * . ii n i my household, and your patron ana Deneiaccor rendered a wretched and unhappy man. To cap the climax, you presume to enter my house by sheer violence and bestow upon me the most degrading epithets. What does all this mean, Daniels?" "I hold myself responsible for none of these [things," said Daniels. "Your threat in the garden, this morning, to withhold the payment of my wages, because I begged a brief holiday to attend upon a sick wife, has wrought all this mischief. I incidentally informed Miss Louisa what had passed between us, and, she offered to prevent the possibility of such a loss, by going to my house and attending to my wife, while I completed my task. I objected again and again to this proposal, and finally yielded a reluctant consent. As I hope for mercy at the hands of God, I never knew that my poor wife had the fever you speak of." "And did you suppose me capable of withholding a farthing of your wages, Daniels?" asked Mr. Gravely. ' 'I supposed you capable of keeping your word, replied Daniels. "After what passed between us in the garden," said Mr. Gravely, "I interested myself so much in your behalf as to drive round to your house to ascertain the state of your wife's health. Had I found her as sick as you represented, my first act would have been to apprise you of the fact and i relieve you from work. But judge of my su 0 prise and horror, when, upon entering, I found n beloved daughter lying unconscious upon the floor. , Here he related what is already known to tl s reader. "Merciful heavens!" exclaimed old Darnel - starting to his feet, and gazing wildly about hin - "And you saw nothing of my poor Maggie ?" 1 "If, by your poor Maggie, you mean your wif I reply in the negative," said Mr. Gravely, wit i cruel indifference. 9' "And Miss Louisa thinks the poor old soul a - tually threw herself from the window!" said Dai i iels as if talking to himself. 5 "That seemed to be her impression," was tl 7 reply. "And you knew all this," said Daniels, in a tor f of voice that startled Mr. Gravely, "and saw n 9 toiling and sweating within the sound of your vofl - the whole blessed day, and yet never told me 7 Man alive! and you fly in a passion and threate s me with indignities because I pronounce you i heartless monster! George Gravely, I will ha) s speedy revenge for this." And the old man t voice grew husky, and his frame was all in a tr ] i mor. "Daniels, you make no allowance for the di ' tressing condition of my domestic affairs. Yc 3 forget how, in my anxiety on my daughter's a - count, it was possible to forget everything else." 1 "My daughter's account /" repeated the o - man, mockingly. "And don't you suppose, that ! poor man's wife is as dear as a rich man's daug] - ter ? The bare fact, that you could forget a poo 0 sick, unfortunate woman, under such circumstai ces, is sufficient evidence of your utter hearties - ness and inhumanity." "Is Jacob in the kitchen?" asked Mr. Grave 5 addressing himself to the female domestic, wl had remained in the room, a silent listener of ^b ^ was spoken. [ The woman replied in the affirmative. "Tell him to bring his carriage whip here ar drive this old ingrate out of my house. Do as 1 bid you!" "Oh, sir!" exclaimed the woman, reprovingl 5 "I shall not subject you to the disgrace ai and mortification of obeying such a dastardly c 7 der," said old Daniels, rising and putting on h hat Then turning to Mr. Gravely, who was wal 1 ing hurriedly about the room, pale with anger, ai 3 maddened with self-accusing conscience, he adde< 1 "With your permission, sir, I shall retire, witho putting your servants to the trouble of whippii 3 mc out But, George Gravely, as sure as you a a living man, you snail regret tne occurrences 1 this day and the base indignities with which yc 3 have threatened me to-night I feel myself to be i " insulted, injured and outraged man; and, as sucl f I will be revenged." And without another won the wretched old man walked out of the room. Mr. Gravely felt in his heart, that his conduc 3 in connection with old Daniels' unfortunate wif was without excuse; that his negligence to insl 3 tute measures of relief, or at least, to inform tl V poor old man of what had been communicated 3 him under such impressive circumstances was i i deed heartless and unfeeling, beyond measur * The more he thought of it, so much the more d his guilt appear manifest; and, angry with hii 3 self, and distressed in mind on account of t * daughter's illness, the unhappy man paced to ai ? fro the liveloDg night, even until the dawn of da i- # * * * # * y Back from all this splendor?back from the I scenes of luxury and wealth, to the haunts of pes r lence, poverty and vice, did old Daniels go. . his utter loneliness and depression of spirits 1 wondered to whom he should go for the relation " his troubles, or from what quarter advice and c r operation could be obtained. Finally, he thoug of a certain old preacher, who lived in the upp ' per portion of the city; and to him he determini t to go, reveal his deplarable situation, andenlist I II services. An hour after, the old gardner, accompanied 1 his pious companion and friend, entered the hui - ble, and, now, desolate house on Mason-street, ai e began a thorough search of the premises. Fro garret to cellar; from room to room; in the yar garden, out-houses and everywhere did the o 3 men diligently search. Alas! no Maggie cou be found, nor the slightest traces of her where - bouts discovered. There certainly was no evidence whatever, th, the poor woman had fallen from the window. J1 stains of blood upon the bricks in the yard?tl r shrubs and plants, immediately beneath the br ken window, perfectly unharmed. Then, too, occurred to the old man, that no human beil - i J :ui_ xun c ?i. ? cuuiu puraiuijr iaii nuui ouuu a uix??jr ucigui niu ' oat being instantly killed, or, at any rate, render* incapable of motion. What then had become poor Maggie Daniels ? \ CHAPTER IV. One week had elapsed since the occurrences r 3 lated in the foregoing chapters had transpired. i The old gardener was wandering dejectedly i r lone in one of the city church-yards, when a lor i and imposing funeral procession entered the ei , closure, the pall-bearers in advance, bearing a t exceedingly rich and expensive burial oase. Ha - tily rising from a marble slab, upon which he ha i but just seated himself, he involuntarily, followe 3 the procession, and shortly after,, found himse ? beside a newly opened grave. With a shudd* and a suppressed cry of mingled terror and so row, the old man staggered back among the circ around the coffin, for there?gleaming up from tl , surface of the massive silver plate?was the nan r of "Louisa Gravely." , The impressive burial services were performec f and the coffin about to be lowered, when itwasdii 1 covered, that the grave was nearly half full of wj . ter. A brief consultation ensued, the nature < i which could only bo surmised from the fact, thi r the burial-case was shortly after removed to neigh boring vault with large maroie floors ana gim i pannek Through these pannels, the old gardenc i gazed, as soon as the procession left the cemeterj and there he caught a glimpse of the childish fac i of the rich man's beloved daughter, now rigid a marble, but still beautiful to look upon. The li i of the coffin had been arranged in such a peculia manner, that tho silver-plate was movable an : worked upon slides. At this time it was dowr leaving the meek and saintly face entirely exposed i Looking upon that face, he was reminded of hi poor missing wile and of the melancholy fact, tha for her sake and on her account was this fair an< lovely young being hurried to an untimely grave Musing upon all the circumstances connected wit! tho mysterious disappearance of his poor Maggii and the apparently consequent death of Louisa his heart grew unwontedly sad within him; and hi looked half enviously upon the quiet sleeper befon him and longed for a rest as unbroken and peace ful as that. He turned to leave; but before doinj so he would give one long, lingering look upon thi tenant of this gorgeeus vault In doing this, and in his anxiety to obtain a bet ter view, he tip-toed upon the granite steps anc leaned forward, supporting his entire weight againsi the marble door. A harsh, grating sound?a diz zy sensation of Ming?and the next moment th< door was creaking upon its hinges and the old gar dener lying outstretched upon the damp anc mouldy floor of the vault Owing to some unaccountable negligence, th< parties depositing the coffin in the vault had neg lected to secure the door behind them, but hac . . . _ r- simply closed it Even this much most have been' ly bat imperfectly done, or the old man's weight could not have moved it from its position, le Old Daniels quickly regained his feet and looked wildly about him. The idea of having entered so s, unceremoniously into the presence of the peaceful a. dead, was somewhat shocking to his feeble nerves.. He looked eagerly and rather timidly around, and e, discovered no less than five newly made coffins in h the vault lying one upon the other, the occupants of which were all victims of the terrible pestUenoe c- then raging in the city. The case or coffin?for its a- construction was peculiar?in which the body of Louisa was enclosed, was lying apart from the othle era and on a stone slab or table. To this the old man turned; and looking Hown upon the sweet le young free, suddenly started and uttered an exte clamation of mingled surprise and honor; fbr the x eyes, awhile ago, closed, were now wide open, and i! the lips apart Recovering from the shock, and in thinking, perhaps, that his violent entrance may a have jarred the body and thus occasioned the prea7e ent condition of the corpse, be ventured to kjok a- a 'a gain. That look decided him. * e- Running his trembling hands along the outside of the case, he discovered itsqpmpoationto be eiths er of stone or Heavy glass. Looking eagerly aiu round, he found a hatchet, hammer and crowbar, c- the former of which he seized and began carefully chipping away the hard, butbrittle lid of the oofId fin. In an almost incredible short apace of time, a the breast and arms of the body were expoeed; and i- now the the old gardener pauses?loots doubtfully r, into the still motionless faoe?puts his ear close to q- the shrouded bosom?then goes to work again with s- redoubled energy. The lid is off at last; but the twilight shadows Iy are deepening and darkening around the vault 10 What is to be done ? Bushing breathlessly to the at entrance of the damp, dark, dreary abode of death, he observes the parsonage across the street?the residence of his old friend?and the only house in id the vicinity of the church. Hprriedly divesting I himself of his overcoat, and lifting the body, as gently as an infant, from the coffin, he wrapped it y. closely about the now tremulous form, and, with id the precious burden in his arms, staggered ezhansir ted across the street jg *#**** -; ?J.. t- "Daniels," said Mr. Gravely, "you are the very id man I wished to see. Why do you thus shun me? i: If I have wronged you in my conduct towards Qt your poor wife, forgive me. I am to be pitied^ ig Daniels. My borne has been invaded by disease rc and death; and God knows how and where it will of all end. Four days ago poor.Louisa left me, and )U now my beloved wife and boy are down with the in same fever that sapped the life of my beautiful h, Louisa. Oh I Daniels, can you harbor malice in (j) your heart towards a wretched man like me ?" Daniels choked down the noble emotidns of his ^ Dosom, ana replied. "jar. uravely, 1 snail never e, forget to whom I am indebted for the present mistj. cry of my existence. You haye, with a careless, 3e negligent, cruel hand, let down the curtain of an to impenetrable darkness between me and all my D. hopes, and made my life a sad and weary pilgrimo. age. As I once told you, in yonder splendid manid sion; so I tell you now?I vktl be revenged'/" n- "Oh 1 Daniels 1 Daniels I'' exclaimed Mr. Grave[ia ly. "Talk not of revenge to me 1 What can you id inflict upon mo, equal to that whichlhave already y. suffered? My idolized child snatched from my embrace and laid away in yonder tomb 1 My wife so and darling boy evidently about to follow 1 And ti_ look upon these stinkeifeyes and*holIbw cheeks .01 *[n mine, and tell me, Daniels, if you do not read in he that, the doom that awaits me, too ?" of Daniels looked into the care-worn face of the o- speaker, bnt quickly averted his gaze. It was eloht quent in its expression of utter mental wretched er ness, and emphatic in its shadowings of physical sd suffering and premature decay, lis "What I wish to ask of you, Daniels," said Mr. Gravely, "is, that you will select some spot in iy Greenwood Cemetery, or wherever you think best, Q. and remove poor Louisa there. Take her from that id dark, dreary vault, into the warm sunshine, where m we can make a garden of her grave. And, as one d, after the other of my family drop off, lay us side Id by side in some cool, pleasant spot I have auld thorized my banker to advance yoWany amount a- you may deem requisite for these purposes.' You will do this for us, Daniels?will you not" at "I will,'' was all that Daniels ventured to reply, fo Mr. Gravely felt in his vest pocket a few moie ments; then, taking therefrom a roll of money ru wranned in naner. he handed it to the old oar it dener, saying: "This is about the amount of my lg indebtedness to you fo^ your labor in the garden, h- Oh 1 Daniels! at what a terrible cost to us both id was that contract fulfilled! Would to God, I had of granted you the brief indulgence solicited thatun- ,'* fortunate day!" * ** ' "My God I?what is this ?" said old Daniels; and as Mr. Gravely looked quickly up, upon hearing the exclamation, old Daniels was holding a strip of paper before him, while the tears were rolling down his withered cheeks. a' That scrap of paper, dear reader, contained a notice of the safety and recovery of "poor old a" Maggie," and was a fragment of one of the city in journals. She had wandered out into the street das' ring Louisa's unconsciousness; been taken in, ^ tended and nursed, by a humane lady and wasl(l now convalescent The lady had ascertained her name some days before, but did not publish the -r card, until she had twice called at Daniels' house f" and found it tenantless. ,e The week after this, Mr. Gravely was handed ie the following note: ie Dear Sir: I promised to remove your daughter's body from the church-yard and deposit it in 1, a pleasant spot This I have done ; but not exj actly in accordance with your directions. Instead L. of a cemetery I have her in sr comfortable Deflf room. In jplain words, sir, your daughter was found alive in the vault?was extricated from the lt coffin by my hands and borne by me to the paraon& age. We all thought it best to say nothing of the 38 matter, until her recovery was at least probable. ?r It is now quite evident that she tciZZ recover; and, as her brother and mother are better, we have con' eluded to reveal the secret to you, leaving it to * your own discretion, when, how.and where to 15 break the dangerous news to your family," rJ . 1 .1 1 1 1 ? I u Ana THIS was tne oia garaener s revenge j j d Save Something.?The workingman should i) not live fully up to his income, unless it be a matL ter of absolute necessity. If he can only lay aside s one or two dollars per week, it is some provision t against want and suffering when he 'is unable to 1 take his accustomed plaoe in the workshop. The strong man is sometimes bowed down by disease; 1 or his wife and little ones may languish on the bed 2 of illness. At such times the family expenses are > increased. The doctor must be paid; medicine s must be bought, and delicacies must be provided 2 for the sick. The mechanic who has nothing laid - up for a "rainy day" must suffer when sickness 1 keeps him from daily toil His wages are stopped, 2 but his expenses continue, and, ere he knows it, suffering and want are added to his woes. Those ~ who, by small weekly or monthly contributions, 1 entitle themselves to the charities of benevolent t institutions, act wisely and welL Any plan by which they provide against such contingencies as we have ) mentioned is worthy their attention. Let the workingman economise while in health, and always 1 keep a fund in reserve for the uncertain fixture. ? , 3 I?" John Doe died of a heavy spree in the New - York Tombs. His suit again Riohard Roe is now 1 discontinued.