The very appearance of this form conjures up the gallowsold Potter's field- the grave. The old, the young, the grave and gay-the patriot-sage-all-all obey that magic word, the PAST, and bow submissive to its power. Yet is there another, and perhaps a more potent magician, of whom we shall let another speak for us. A writer of the present age, one whose works have created a sensation in both hemispheres, says: "It is one of the noblest privileges of the historian, that monarch of the past, that, when he takes a survey of his dominions, he has only to touch the ruins and dead bodies with his pen, in order to rebuild the palaces and resuscitate the men. At his voice, like to that of Deity, the dry bones re-unite, the living flesh again covers them, brilliant dresses again clothe them; and in that immense Jehoshaphat, where the children of three thousand years are collected, his own caprice alone regulates his choice, and he has only to announce the names of those he requires, to behold them start forth from their tombs, remove the folds of their grave clothes with their own hands, and answer, like Lazarus to our blessed Saviour, Here am I, Lord! what dost thou want with me?' It is true that it requires a firm step to descend to the depths of history, a commanding voice to interrogate the phantoms, and an unshaking hand to write what they dictate. The dead often possess terrible secrets, that the grave-diggers have closed up with them in their tombs."

The talented author alludes here to the history of nations, monarchs, kings, rulers, lords and knights, the great men of the past! We take a humbler range, and call up spirits from the grave-yards of our own native land. Yet are the few characters introduced into our story of as much importance in their relative positions on each with their fellow men, as if they were the mightiest of the mighty.

'

CHAPTER I.

Hadst not thou been by,

A fellow by the hand of Nature mark'd,

Quoted, and sign'd to do a deal of shame,

This murder had not come into my mind."--SHAKSPEARE.

Our story opens in a dark, filthy cellar of a house situated in Pine street, a few doors above Second. A barber occupied the dwelling part, the basement of which was rented to a man by the name of Giles. A description of this man's appearance is deemed necessary, as it may in some measure prepare the minds of our readers for those scenes in which he is destined to play a conspicuous part. Giles was a man whose age the close observer would set down at fifty-five, the casual one at about forty. He was thick set, broad across the shoulders, with a neck not unlike that of a bull's. His head was covered with thick, black, wiry hair, and seemed poised upon his shoulders, resembling somewhat a huge cannon-ball placed on the misshapen form of a dwarf. His strength must have been enormous, as every active muscle was, in proportion to those of other men, immense, presenting to the eye more of a distorted than a natural appearance. His features were the very reverse of handsome, and yet not what might be termed ugly; courage was strongly depicted on every lineament, and gave an expression, if not manly, at least indicative of great personal resolution. His teeth were large, regular, and purely white, and, contrasted with his dark visage, showed to much advantage. Such was Giles.

The cellar on this evening was rendered somewhat more comfortable, from the fact that its rough inmate had made up a fire, the light of which, reflecting on the wall, gave to

its viscous reality the appearance of crystallization. The furniture was in perfect keeping with the place and the owner. An old table, a cot bed, two chairs, and several articles used for culinary purposes, comprised the paraphernalia of the domestic arrangements, while all bespoke the poverty, if not the crime, of the occupant.

wretchedness are almost synonymous.

Crime and

As he sat by the fire, his looks were fixed on the wall, and it was evident his thoughts were far beyond the scene or the object upon which his eyes seemed fixed. Occasionally his hands grasped the back of the chair, the convulsive motion of which caused the wood to crack, while the nervous action of the muscles of the face told that a dreadful struggle was going on between present thoughts and past deeds. "Yes," he muttered, "I am a doomed man-hell has fixed its everlasting seal on my soul; for I cannot pray-I have tried it: in the dead hour of night I have knelt down, but the past-the past came over me in clouds of darkness-I could not pray! Yet I should like to know if my daughter still lives. Ten years have passed away-aye, ten long years-since I have been a vagabond and a wanderer on the face of the earth! Yet have I enjoyed life-I have had my revenge on the world, ha! ha!" and the wild laugh of the desperate man sounded fearfully in that lone place. "Hark! some one knocks! Who's there?" A voice from the outside answered, "A friend!"

"Aye," muttered Giles, as unfastening the door, "such a friend as the devil sends; come in."

The door opened, and there entered a young man dressed in the extreme of fashion. His manner was that of a man who had seen and mixed much with the world. In his hand he twirled a small, highly polished stick, with a beautifully carved head of a fox, made of solid gold.

"Ah, Giles!" he exclaimed, "my boy, alone eh! So much the better; but what are you doing with fire in the month of September? Are you cold?"

"No; but the cellar is damp, and I made it to dry the walls. Sit down."

"Thanks, Giles, I am tired, and I witnessed some sad scenes as I came along. By the way, Giles, take a smell of this it is the celebrated 'Thieves' Vinegar,' a sure antidote to the disease."

"I want no antidote. Listen! I hear the approach of the dead cart"

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Bring out your dead!

Bring out your dead!" "That cry sounds fearful. But to business. You say you want my services?"

"I do, Giles; you have lived too long in poverty, old boy; I will enrich you the times will enrich you. Keep an eye to the city-the fever is driving all before it. Why not take advantage of the public calamity and put money in thy purse!"

"I intend to do so. Just as you came in, I inwardly took an oath to plunder, nay-"

“Murder—eh, Giles ?" significantly asked his companion. Perhaps," was Giles' laconic reply.

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Easily done, old boy. You can do it professionally. Apply to the committee to be received as a nurse, and I can give you a few lessons which may prove of some advantage. An extra glass of cold water, a table spoonful more of castor oil than the doctor's prescription calls for, will soon settle the affairs of life and death. This is called murder by the rule of Physics."

"You cannot learn me that I have practised it elsewhere!"

"Good! Then, Giles, you are my man; and to lessen

the distance between us which education, manners and address make, and to place us more upon an equality, it is necessary that you should know who I am; at least more than you do at present."

"I do know you."

"Ah! you do! Well, who and what am I?”

"A bad son of a rich man."

"Ha! ha! Good! But, Giles, you were never more mistaken in all your life. I was born in the poorhouse, brought up in the workhouse, and educated in a prison."

Giles stared at the man before him, gave a low chuckle, and exclaimed in a somewhat harsh manner

"Who are you, then?"

"Robinson, the bank robber, for whose apprehension there is a reward offered of five hundred dollars!"

At this announcement, Giles arose suddenly to his feet, his eyes were riveted on the slight form of the man before him, his fingers opened, and his arms involuntarily moved, as if about to grasp at something.

"What's the matter, Giles? You appear agitated. Put down those giant arms of yours, that look is somewhat savage. Nay, stay where you are. The door is secure

enough-I do not want to escape!"

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Ha!-escape-you. Boy, if I thought you were Robinson, I would take you by the nape of the neck and lead you to the Mayor's office like a lamb to be slaughtered. Don't trifle with Dick Giles, boy."

"Well, my fine fellow, if such are your intentions toward Robinson, our conference ends. The task I had for you to do was an easy one, the payment for which would not be quite so heavy as the reward offered by the Directors of the Pennsylvania Bank for my person; and yet, Giles, stout and bull-like as you are, you could not win it."