him." ceiving no answer, he concluded that course, that you are a witness against she had not yet returned; he therefore re-entered the apartment; using the precaution, however, as he did so, to turn the key in the lock after him. "I suppose it was the wind," said 'he, speaking to Fitz Osborne, as he resumed his seat. "That's what I understand," said Davis, resuming his meditations. "Well, am I right or wrong?" said Fitz Osborne, impatiently, after waiting a moment for the other's reply. "On the one hand you have, in addition to the unequivocal approval of your con science for assisting the ends of justice, a handsome sum, with which you can recommence the world; while, on the other, you expose yourself to conse quences of the most unpleasant kind. With such a contrast, I think you should not hesitate long to answer the question, whether I am right or wrong." "I was about to say," remarked Fitz Osborne, who had also re-seated himself, "that if what I have heard is true-if by the means of your testimony we convict this young man, who is guilty beyond a question, I will have it in my power to bestow on you the sum of five hundred dollars for your own individual benefit! If, however, I have been misinformed—or, in other words, to speak perfectly plain-if you cannot testify against Edgar Middleton, and for want of evidence he escapes punishment; all my influence would be unavailing, should it be exercised with the intention of preventing your arrest and trial for the same offence. You understand me, do you not?" “I think I do,” replied Davis;" it's not often mistaken; and I thought my not easy to do otherwise." "Well, then," said Fitz Osborne, fixing his eyes steadily on his companion, "will you be good enough to state whether my information is, or is not correct? for if I have been misinformed, I have put myself to a great deal of unnecessary trouble in the expectation of being of service to you." "Oh, you're right," replied Davis, with a half-laugh; "I was only trying to think where it was that Middleton made the proposition to me." "I thought I was," said Fitz Osborne calmly; but curling his lip and looking at his companion with an expression that showed the contempt which even he felt for him. "I am informant could not have known these circumstances, unless he had learned them from you. I want you to reflect deliberately upon this matter, so that you may make no incongruous assertions, or get confused, when you come to be examined in court.” "I've been a witness before," replied Davis, "and know how to tell a straight story. I don't think they will catch me tripping." "I think," observed Davis, apparently deliberating on the proposition, "that you said. five hundred dollars?" "Make sure that they do not," said "That is the sum which will be Fitz Osborne. "Take this card-the yours on the conviction of Middleton," gentleman, whose name is on it, is our replied Fitz Osborne, "provided, of attorney. You had better call to-mor row, or at furthest the next day, and | quisitive?" he replied, as he eyed himmake your statement to him. He will self in the fragment of a looking-glass: ask you all the questions which it is "his business with me is no affair of that should answer. In yours; so don't ask any questions about it; but keep a still tongue and a in your head." sleepy eye necessary you the mean time, as I shall probably not see you again until you come to claim your reward, take this, and use it judiciously;" and he drew a bank note from his pocket-book, and handed it to Davis, who, nothing loth, received it. Thus was the bargain concluded, and another stride in the downward and darksome path of crime taken without remorse or fear. the After Fitz Osborne had gone, woman returned to the room and placed a broken decanter on the table. But Davis took no notice of this movement, for he was dressing himself, ostensibly with the intention of taking a nocturnal ramble. "You are not going out again tonight, Luke, are you?" said she, approaching him timidly. "I should like to know who's to prevent me," he replied, without bestowing even a look upon her. "There is no one to prevent you, Luke, if choose to go," she said; you "but you had better not-you will only come home drunk again, and you know you are hardly over the last fit yet." "Never you trouble yourself to find out whether I am or not," he replied; "I do choose to go; and that is, and must be, enough for you to know." 66 Luke, what did that man want with you?" said she, as she saw him take up his hat and smooth its shabby surface with the sleeve of his coat. As he was going out of the room, she went up to him, and laid her hand upon his arm, and looked imploringly into his face. "Well, what is it now?" he exclaimed, stopping abruptly and turning towards her for the first time since Fitz Osborne's departure. "Luke," said she, speaking slowly, and in an humble tone, "do you know that you struck me to-night? Do you know that a little while ago before that man came in-when you were drunk, you struck me to the floor? You, a man; and I, a woman! and yet you did it, Luke!" "And didn't I tell you," he replied, as he released his arm from her grasp, "that I would do it again? I was as serious then as ever I expect to be in my life; and I will keep my word, too, whenever you dare to disobey me." "Don't say that, Luke! don't say that!" she exclaimed fervently, as she "say that you clung to his person; were drunk, and that you didn't know what you were doing-that you couldn't have done it if you hadn't been sosay that you are sorry, Luke! Say that you're sorry, for having struck a weak woman, who has given up the only treasure she had in the world, for your sake!" As long as she continued to speak, he looked down on her in silence, with "What makes you so infernally in-a sardonic smile upon his face; but, as soon as she concluded her appeal and turned her countenance, more eloquent than her language, to him, he extricated himself, by sheer strength, from her grasp, flung her from him, and went laughing into the street. "That girl is getting crazy, I do believe," he muttered, as he reached the pavement. She followed him down stairs, and watched him till he was out of sight. "It will be better for you, Luke, if you never attempt it again," she said, as she came in and closed the door; "you may find, when it's too late to be sorry, that I am not quite so weak as you think me!” CHAPTER VIII. But this excecding posting, day and night, Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it; But, since you have made the days and To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. interest corresponded with the importance of the case to all concerned. Indeed, the trial was one of importance to the whole community, for reasons which have been already alluded to; and public curiosity was so much excited, that it was more than likely, (as well from this circumstance as from the connection which it was supposed to have with a multitude of similar ones,) that the case would form an era in the judicial investigations of the criminal court. From this fact, it was matter of almost as great moment to Carrol, (exclusive of his friendly interest,) as it was to the parties more imme. diately concerned in it; for, by the manner in which it was managed, might his reputation either be permanently established or effectually destroyed. Nor was he, though so young a lawyer, without professional reputation. He had already been concerned in many and his conduct had won for him cases; golden opinions from all sorts of people. His eloquence was of that impassioned character, that seizes upon the heart of the hearer, without an effort, and bears it insensibly along towards the object of the speaker; and the public, and juries, had acknowledged its influence in more instances than one. His talents were universally admitted by his brethren of the bar; and many an old practitioner, when he was concerned for an opposite interest, had found himself foiled by Carrol's knowledge of the law. In fact, Francis Carrol was THE day before the trial was an anxious one for Francis Carrol; at least he felt it so, as he sat in his office, surrounded by his books and papers, preparing for the case-making his own side as strong as possible, and trying to anticipate the course the opposition would be likely to adopt. He felt as if the destiny of the whole Middleton family depended upon his exertions; for he knew how interwoven considered as a young man who bid was the happiness of his mother and fair to reach the pinnacle of his prosister with that of Edgar; and his fession. His labors were brought to a tempo- he regarded the rights of meum and rary period by the entrance of his tuum." friend, Edward Wharton. "You are preparing to meet the enemy, I see,” observed Wharton, pointing to the array of books that were displayed upon the table, and on some surrounding chairs, "Yes," replied Carrol; " and by this time to-morrow I hope to be able to say we have not only met them, but also that they are ours.'" ton; "I hope so, sincerely," said Whar"for I don't know what will become of poor Kate, if Edgar should be convicted." "We must try," replied Carrol, "and prevent such an untoward result." "The failing increases in virulence as it descends," said Wharton; "the father was an angel compared with his son, whom I consider such an unmitigated villain, that, had you killed him when you had the chance, instead of suffering him to escape with merely a flesh-wound, I almost question whether you would have been committing a sin." "You have reason to be bitter against him," said Carrol. "But what further information did Elkton give you?" "He says," replied Wharton, "that these witnesses from New York are prepared to swear that Edgar is the person who presented spurious checks and notes to the banks of that city." "Are you aware," said Wharton, "that they have sent on to New York for witnesses to identify Edgar as the individual who committed the forgeries there, during the last spring or winter?" "That testimony," replied Carrol, "would not be admissible, though we have the means of disproving it, even if it should be allowed to go to the jury. From what source do you derive your information?" "I got it from Elkton," said Whar-that they are grossly mistaken. ton; "and he, you know, is Fitz Osborne's shadow-and Fitz Osborne is the principal mover of this prosecution. Confound him! the longer I know him, the more I become convinced that he is a soulless villain." "Then," said Carrol, " "they are prepared to perjure themselves; for I am satisfied, and prepared to prove, that he has never been there since he was a child, and then, only with his parents." "Of course, I know that to be the fact," said Wharton, "and that the most lenient observation which we can apply to them for their promptness, is, It does seem strange, though, that they should be so positive; and Harvey, too, who is an honest fellow, and conscientious, says that he thinks Edgar is the individual. Now, I conceive it to be highly probable that the same "That characteristic trait is, I be- person has been concerned in all these lieve, hereditary," said Carrol. "His offences; and the only way in which I immediate ancestor was not remarkable can account for their fixing so tenafor the punctilious respect with which ciously upon Edgar, is, that he must I have a double somewhere; or, in other has rubbed off, or should have rubbed words, that the real culprit, whoever off, all local asperitics of character, by travel. This man never appears entirely at his ease; and when among gentlemen, he seems as if he was doubtful of his own position." he is, must bear a very strong personal resemblance to him. You have seen, or heard of such things?" "And I," added Wharton, "have "Frequently," replied Carrol. "And it may be as you suppose. Stranger accusations than this have been made; always assisted to confirm your suppoand, what is more, have been sustained, sition, by remarking that it was highly too! We have cases in the books, probable. The Baron," said he, “had where persons have been tried, con- an invitation to Mandeville's Wistar* victed, and executed, for offences of party, the other night. He promised which they were perfectly innocent, Mandeville and his brother, late in the through the positive testimony of wit- afternoon, that he would be there; but nesses who swore to their identity, and when the evening came, he sent an exthe real offenders were not discovered cuse! Mandeville had told him that he until years after, when tardy justice desired to introduce him to Sunderland, could be done but to the memory of who is familiarly acquainted in the the sufferers." very part of Germany from which Kreutzden asserts that he comes; and Sunderland says that he never heard of such a person as the Baron." By-the-bye!" exclaimed Wharton, "do you not remember that we both mistook another person for Edgar, on one occasion ?" A light seemed to break in upon Carrol's mind, as he replied"You mean the young man we met in company with Baron Kreutzden?” Yes," replied Wharton. "The likeness was very striking-was it not?" "I am convinced that he is the criminal," said Carrol; "and, moreover, I should not be surprised if the Baron (if he is a Baron, which I sometimes doubt) is also connected with the crime. I have always, from the first moment I saw him, suspected Kreutzden to be an impostor. He has not the air appearance of a well-bred man, nor are his manners such as one would expect to see in a man of education, who or who may be anxious to know what a Wistar To gratify the curiosity of the reader, party is, we will, in mercy to his ignorance, |