Chapter XVIII

"The hour of vengeance strikes,--hark to the gale!
As it bursts hollow through the rolling clouds.
Such is the hand of Heaven!"

It came at length, swift, avenging justice; awful in might, and none could resist its angry hand.

The "pestilence that walketh at noonday," swept over the fair, young cities of the west, and thousands fell victims to the remorseless destroyer.

O, Cholera! great be the name of him, who, from the mazes of scientific lore, shall call a power to rob thee of thy terrors, thou scourge of mankind!

Lawrence Hardin returned from a southern trip to find his house left desolate; wife and child both in their hastily-covered graves. He shook with agony, and scarce was the first frantic burst of grief subsided, ere the officers of justice entered his mansion and declared him their prisoner. He glared at them wildly.

"What mean you," he asked, "by this untimely intrusion in the house of death?"

"Prepare to accompany us to the court-room immediately," was the answer, "to answer to a charge of swindling and forgery preferred by one John Sumpter, who is also arrested and undergoing examination."

Hardin grew ashy-pale at these words.

"The villain!" he muttered; "so he has betrayed me. Carry me where you will, Mr. Officer. Life is a curse to me henceforth."

Thus speaking, he resigned himself passively to the custody of the sheriffs. They conducted him instantly to the court-house, and placed him in the prisoner's box beside Sumpter, who cowered and moved away at his approach. Hardin threw a look of envenomed hatred on the wretch, and sat down. When the charges were read he merely bowed; and when asked what he had to plead, replied: "Nothing, only that they would hang him up as soon as convenient, and thus end his misery." He was placed in jail with Sumpter, and several other defaulters, to await a final trial at the autumn sessions.

And the pestilence swept on; young and old, rich and poor, all fell before its blasting power. In the brief space of twenty-four hours, Dr. Prague was bereft of wife and children, and left a poor, lone man, in his solitary mansion. Where should the mourner turn for consolation? At this crisis, he thought of his old friend, Parson Grey, and determined to quit the city for a few weeks, till the epidemic should have subsided, and make him a visit. He was just the calm, holy spirit he needed to solace his afflictions; and accordingly a letter was despatched, which brought a speedy reply, sympathizing in his distress, and urgently inviting him to join them as soon as possible.

He visited Hardin before departing, informed him of the death of all his family, and kindly inquired if he could be of any service to the imprisoned man.

"No!" was the answer; "and I don't know what you came here at all for. What do I care if your wife and brats _are_ dead? So is _my_ wife dead, and _my_ child, and I hope soon to be. The greatest favor you can bestow is to get out of my sight."

The doctor gazed on the hardened wretch with pity, and turned away. He left the city in July, and the first of September the trials came on. The large court-house was densely thronged to hear the pleas and decision in the case of the extensive forgeries and bank frauds of Hardin and Sumpter. There could be little doubt of the verdict, as the evidence against the parties was powerful and conclusive, and none seemed so regardless of the issue as the prisoners themselves. With hard, stoical faces, they confronted the jury, as they returned from their deliberations and resumed their seats on the platform.

Without, the elements were raging in their wildest, most terrific fury. Broad flashes of lightning at intervals illuminated the crowded hall, and glared on the sea of upturned human faces, marked with every variety and shade of passion and feeling. The thunder roared and reverberated through the heavens with tremendous crashings, as the judge arose, and, turning toward the jury, asked, in solemn accents, if they had agreed upon a verdict.

They had.

"Are the prisoners at the bar guilty, or not guilty?"

There came a blinding flash, followed by a deafening thunder-bolt, as the foreman rose and pronounced the word, "_Guilty_."

Smothered screams at this moment issued from various parts of the assembly. The building was struck and on fire. Terrible confusion ensued. Frantic cries and shrieks mingled with the bellowings of the storm without, rendering the scene awful beyond description. All rushed pell-mell for the street. The crackling flames burst through the broad windows on the side of the judges' platform, rolling a dense volume of smoke and stifling heat into the interior of the building. In the wild excitement and terror, the prisoners were forgotten. They stood in the box where they had received sentence. The flames were rapidly approaching them. Sumpter turned a glance full of hatred and vengeance on Hardin. "You swore revenge on Sheldon," said he, "and I helped you accomplish your iniquitous designs. You refused a paltry sum when I asked it, and then I swore revenge on you, and this is the way I finish it."

Hardin drew a revolver from his breast; "And this is the way I finish mine," he said; and, taking aim, lodged a ball in the heart of Sumpter. Then, springing quick as lightning over the box, he rushed among the crowd and gained the street. The intense darkness favored his flight, and, hurrying on, he gained the levees, secreted himself in the hold of a boat, and had the good fortune to find himself floating down the river in the morning.