almost as unconsciously became clasped together; tears were streaming down both their cheeks: - Love is a mysterious passion; the pressure of her lover's hand, the state of her father's health, the loneliness of her situation, all combined to cause the tears to flow. But why did William weep ? Tears are sympathetic. Mesmerism was not then known. The long night they watched at the old man's bedside-the solemn stillness that reigned around was occasionally broken by the dread voices in the street, crying, "bring out your dead!"

"Our dead!" sobbed Mary.
"Our dead!" sighed William.

Just as the streaks of daylight poured into the little room, Dr. Carson made his appearance. He ordered another kind of medicine, shook his head, and hurried off, observing, "the old man has no blood to spare." Hope went out of the door with him, and again poor Mary wept. William's business now called him away, and he felt somewhat relieved when he met at the door the man Giles, who had so kindly promised to nurse the old man for nothing!

Giles entered the room, and immediately commenced his duties as nurse; observing Mary weeping, and judging from her appearance that she had not slept all night, he kindly advised her to lay down.

"I said, Miss, that I would nurse the old man; and when Giles says he will do a thing, that thing is done. You know, Miss, I promised to get Jane a good place, didn't I do it? She is in clover now; a good house, good home, good friends, - dead, I hope," he muttered to himself, "and then her shame is over."

"I am glad, sir, you provided for poor Jane; she was a schoolmate of mine, a sweet dear girl, and so fond of Mrs. Brown."

"Yes, yes, but Mrs. Brown, you know, is not her mother."

"No: she was an orphan, and was taken care of by Mrs. Brown. Her father and mother are both dead."

"Aye, poor thing, poor thing. Did you ever learn her proper name, eh, Miss Mary?"

"Oh yes, I know her history. Her name is Jane Wilson."

"What! Speak again. No, no, no. Silence. Silenceon your life!"

Mary started back-the old man on the bed raised himself up, muttered a few words, and fell back again exhausted. Giles stood transfixed: his form became erect, his eyes sparkled, a nervous tremor shook his powerful frame: "Speak, girl, speak; did you say her name was

Wilson?"

"Yes, sir, her father, it was said, in a moment of passion, killed her mother, and then fled."

"Gracious heavens! it is my own child. I have dragged her to ruin and infamy-to death-O villain, villain !--but he shall pay for it-dearly, dearly-girl-I cannot nurse your father: better as it is for I had a motive even in so doing; look to your father's gold: there are those who would have it. Give me your hand, girl: nay, start not; God bless you, God bless you." So saying, he imprinted a kiss on the hand of Mary, and then rushed wildly out of the house. That night, the next, and the next, William and Mary watched alone.

CHAPTER IV.

"Remorse-she ne'er forsakes us!

A bloodhound staunch, she tracks our rapid step."-OLD PLAY.

All was still,

Life was no more."-PERCIVAL.

We must now go back some few days to the one following the interview between Robinson and Giles. It is in the house of Mrs. Brown we now introduce our readers. This lady, as stated by Mary, had adopted Jane, Wilson's daughter, shortly after the event had occurred which caused him to quit the country, and to which he had now returned, under an assumed name. Mrs. Brown had up to this period escaped the fever, and she was induced, at the repeated suggestions of Giles, to offer herself as a nurse to the patients at the Bush Hill hospital. Giles had become acquainted with Mrs. Brown a short time before the breaking out of the epidemic, and he had no knowledge of the existence or the fate of his child. To him both Mrs. Brown and Jane were as nothing; but Giles had an object in view in forming certain acquaintances - he was a vampyre on society, and it mattered little to him whether the subject was young or old, so that he attained the object aimed at. In many cases, however, Giles acted for others; and it was a remarkable trait in his character, that he would labor as hard for his employer as he would for himself. Hence Giles was an ever ready tool for a bigger and a greater villain than himself.

"Well, Mrs. Brown," exclaimed Giles, entering the room quite familiarly, "have you thought of my plan? Jane will find a good home with Mrs. Compton, and you will have a chance of making money at Bush Hill, that is, if you are not too scrupulous, eh, Mrs. Brown, do you understand?"

"No, indeed, Giles, I do not understand, but as you were saying about Jane, perhaps it were better. You say you know the lady ?"

"Know her! Just as well as I know myself." "Well-then the dear child can go, and I will immediately call on Mr. Girard at the Hospital."

Giles accompanied Jane, not to the house of Mrs. Compton, but to that of Robinson. He chuckled as the poor timid girl entered that den of infamy, and receiving his hire -the pay of a pimp-the wretched man left the house, careless of the fate of one he was bound by every tie to protect.

No sooner had Giles heard from the lips of Mary that Jane was his daughter than he rushed out, as we have already stated, in a state of excitement bordering on insanity. He dashed along the streets, as if he were laboring under the delirium of the fever. Passengers in the street stepped out of his way, and gazed after him, shaking their heads, and applying a smelling bottle to their nose, one of the numerous quack preventives of the day, as if infection followed his wake. Giles scarcely knew what route he was taking, nor did his consciousness return until he found himself in front of Rickett's Circus, already alluded to. As he reached the spot, he found the building surrounded by a fierce mob, from whose threats and manner he learned that their intention was to burn it down, in consequence of the committee having appropriated it for the use of the sick. Giles stopped and mingled with the crowd; his brutal and savage nature gloried in scenes of strife, he therefore shouted out

in a loud voice, "down with the slaughter-house, down with the slaughter-house."

A mob joined, and in a few moments the building would have been fired if an officer had not made his appearance, and stated that all the sick and dead had been removed except one body, and that was in such a state of putrefaction the attendants refused to touch it. There stood the cart, there the mob-an idea struck Giles; wild and savage as it was, he followed it up. Pushing away those who impeded his progress, he rushed into the building, and seizing the body, the condition of which was truly horrible, he flung it over his shoulder, and dashing through the crowd which scattered in every direction, he threw the body in the cart, gave a shout of triumph, and rushing past the astonished spectators, was soon lost sight of.* On! on! he went the pavement seemed as if it were sliding from beneath his feetthe air seemed heated to intensity-he felt his brain maddening! Yet on! on! he went. At last he reached the dwelling of Robinson-he burst open the front door-he ascended the stairs-up, up to the third story! One of the gang stood at the door-her door!-he dashed him to the floor-then opening it wildly rushed in! His eyes became fixed-his limbs stiffened-he gave a wild scream and fell prostrate! Jane was a corpse!

CHAPTER V.

"The knell, the shroud, the mattock, and the grave

The deep, damp vault, the darkness and the worm. -YOUNG.

Some there are still living who remember old Sebastian Ale. Poor fellow! his eccentricity was one of the chief