Chapter V (3)

'Yes, but it's a height of knowledge which don't carry much information with it,' replied Mr. Kornicker. 'I sued him on a promissory note. What he made it for, or how Rust got it, or any thing more about him, or it, or Harson, or Rust, I know as little as you.'

The stranger drew himself up, and looking at him gravely, said in a serious and even stern tone: 'Do you mean to say that you are entirely ignorant of every thing respecting this Rust; his family, his business, his acquaintances, his associates, his habits, his plans and operations?'--in short, that you know nothing more than you have mentioned to me?'

The other nodded.

'Waiter, my bill,' said he in a peremptory tone.

The boy brought him a slip of paper, on which was written the amount.

He paid it without a word; walked across the room, took down his hat, put it on his head, and turning to Kornicker, said in a tone of solemn earnestness: 'Young man, you're in a bad way, a _very_ bad way. Had I known with what people you were in the habit of associating before I sat down at that table, Ezra Scrake's legs and yours would never have been under the same mahogany. A man in the employ of another and know nothing of him! It's enormous! He might be a murderer, a thief; a man-slaughterer; a Burker, an arsoner, or any thing that is bad. Young man, in spite of the injury you've done me, I pity you; nay, I forgive you.'

Mr. Kornicker, was merely waiting for an opportunity to suggest to him that his company had not only been unsought, but actually forced upon him, and even under his solemn protest. But before he could do so, Mr. Scrake was in the street; whereupon, on ascertaining that he was out of the hearing of Mr. Kornicker, he muttered to himself: 'It was no go. Waited for him two hours; then spent an hour in pumping a dry well. Enoch Grosket, has sent me on a fool's errand. Michael Rust knows too much to trust that addle-headed fool.'

Having given vent to these observations, he deliberately buttoned up his coat, and walked off.

CHAPTER TWENTIETH.

In a dark room into which even in the day-time the light struggled in such scanty streams that a kind of twilight was the nearest approach that it ever made to broad day, but which was now only lighted by a single candle, that flared and dripped in the currents of air, as they eddied and whirled about, seeking an escape, sat Tim Craig, and his comrade Bill Jones, the men with Rust's interview with whom the reader is already acquainted. They were sitting cheek by jowl on two wooden benches in front of a fire, which they from time to time nourished with sticks from a heap of wood on the hearth. The fire however would not burn, but kept smouldering and smoking, now and then springing up into a fitful blaze, which threw a spectral air over the room, peopling its dim recesses with all sorts of fantastic forms, and then expired, leaving it more gloomy than ever. The appearance of the men, their subdued, whispering voices and startled looks, showed that at that particular time they were not altogether in a frame of mind to resist the gloomy influence of the place. The dark, lonely room, with its large shadowy corners and gaping seams, through which the wind sighed and wailed, and the pattering of the rain as it swept heavily against the side of the house and on the roof, all tended to add to the melancholy and sombre tone of their feelings. Bill drew his bench to the fire, looked suspiciously about him, and then, as if half ashamed of having done so, said:

'It's a h-ll of a night! I don't know how it is, but I'm not in trim to-night. Blow me, if the sight of that old fellow don't make one's blood cold. I can't get warm; and this bloody fire keeps sputtering and smoking, as if to spite one.'

Tim Craig, to whom this remark was addressed, turned and looked him steadily in the face, without speaking; and then his eyes wandered about the room, as if he were fearful of being watched or overheard, in what he was going to say.

'Bill,' said he in a low voice, his thin lips quivering; but whether from anger or any other emotion, was a matter of much doubt; 'd----d if I know which way to leap! Enoch pulls one way and Rust another. Either of them could send us to kingdom come. Ugh! how cold it is! Something comes over me to-night--I can't tell what. I don't half like the job. Bill,' continued he after a pause, drawing nearer his comrade and lowering his voice, 'I'm haunted to-night. You know that fellow, the man up town, the cartman----' He hesitated, and leaned his mouth close to the ear of the other, while in the dim light his face seemed ghastly; 'the--the man, last year----'

Jones looked at him significantly; and then drew his finger across his throat. 'Do you mean that fellow?'

'Yes,' replied Craig in a husky tone, and scarcely able to articulate, for the choking in his throat. 'He's been _here_ to-night. Three times I've caught him looking over my shoulder! GOD! There he is again! Light! light! light!' shouted he, springing up; 'make the fire burn, I say--make it burn! Heap on wood! heap it on! Do _anything_--but keep HIM off!'

'Why, Tim, you seem to be took bad,' exclaimed his companion, at the same time getting on his knees, and setting assiduously to work to blow the fire. 'Come, this is worse than ever. We've got to work to-night; and it wont do to go into your fantastics.'

He paused in his remarks to apply his breath to the fire, and with such success, that in a few minutes a bright blaze was dancing up the chimney, lighting the whole room, and dispelling at once that shadowy appearance which its great size and dilapidated state had tended to give it.

'There now, that's as comfortable a fire as you can want; and arter all, what you was just talking of was all fancy,' said he, resuming his seat. 'Dead men stay where you put 'em.'

Craig had been pacing furiously up and down the room, as if to out-walk some demon that _would_ keep at his side; but he stopped short, and going up to his comrade, placed his hand on his shoulder and said: 'Bill Jones, that's a lie! Whoever says so, lies! Dead men _don't_ stay where you put 'em. I've had that man walking with me for hours together. I've had him at the same table with me, when I ate; I've had him in bed with me--ay, all night long; and to-night he's been here with his face almost touching mine. Blast him! if I could but get him by the throat, I'd throttle him!'

'Come, come, Tom, none of this,' said Jones, with more gentleness than his appearance indicated. 'I'm sorry for you; you must feel bad enough, or you wouldn't go on so. I've know'd you since we were boys together; and I know it's not a little matter that works you up, like you are now. Come, sit down.' He led him to a seat, and kneeling at his feet, took his hand in both of his. 'Don't give in so, my old feller. Don't you know, when we were boys, how we all looked up to you; and although I could have doubled you up, with my big limbs, yet you always had the mastery over me. Ha! ha! Tim, don't you remember the old schoolmaster, too? Hallo! what now?'

Craig leaned his head upon Jones' shoulder and sobbed aloud. Don't talk of those days, Bill; it'll drive me mad. Oh! if I was a boy again! But no, no; I'm a fool,' exclaimed he, springing up, apparently swallowing his emotion at one fierce gulp, and in an instant becoming as hardened as ever. 'Am I crazy, to-night, or _what_ ails me, that I've become as white-livered as a girl? Where's the grog? Give us a sup; and we'll see what's to be done.'

'There, now you talk right,' said Jones, putting his hand in his coat-pocket and drawing out a small bottle, cased in leather; 'that'll wake you up; and now to business. You hav'n't told me what's to be did, and who you'll go with, Grosket, or Rust.'

'Rust,' said Craig, abruptly; 'he's our man. He can bleed; Enoch can't. _He_ never fails in what he wants to do; Enoch _does_; but they are both devils incarnate. I'd rather fight against ten other men than either of them; but rather against Enoch than Mike Rust.'

'Well, what is it? He told you all about it. I couldn't hear what he said.'

'He's been on the prowl for two days: God knows what he's arter; but he wants us to break in a house and steal a girl.'

'The profligate willain!' exclaimed Mr. Jones, with an air of great horror; 'I'll tell his father of him!'

'It's only a child.'

'Oh! that alters the case,' said Mr. Jones, 'Then I'll tell his wife. Well?'

'We are to go to the house, get the girl at all hazards, rob the house if we choose, and bring _her_ here. What he wants of her, who she is, is more than I know. 'You are to get her, and ask no questions,' that's what he said.'

'Who's in the house?'

'Only an old man and a woman.'

'The man?--is he used up, or what?'

'He's a bull-dog,' was the laconic reply.

'We'll want _them_ then,' said Jones, pointing to a closet which was partly open, showing several pairs of pistols on a shelf.

'I suppose so. Bring 'em out, and look at the locks; not the flintlocks--it's a wet night; get the others. We must have no trifling.'

Jones made no other reply than to take out a pair of pistols, which he carried to the light, and examined their locks.

'Are they loaded?' inquired Craig.

Jones nodded: 'Two bullets in each! Suppose they twig us?--are we to fight or run?'

''You had better die than fail.' He said that,' replied Craig, in a low tone; 'and when I saw his look I thought so too. D--n him! I'm afraid of him. It'll be no baby-work if they discover us.'

The other robber made no reply, but continued to examine the pistols, carefully rubbing the barrels, to remove any trace of rust, and working the hammers backward and forward; after which he put two fresh caps on the cones. 'All right! I'm ready as soon as it's time. When do you go?'

'Not till an hour after midnight. That's the time when folks sleep soundest. You could cut a man's throat then without waking him. Don't let the fire get down,' said he, turning an apprehensive eye toward the fire-place. 'It's cold, and we've three hours to be here yet.'

Jones, with the same good-natured alacrity which he had before displayed, threw several sticks on the fire, and then turning to his comrade, said:

'Suppose we rattle the dice till midnight?'

Craig shook his head.

'What say you to the paste-board?'

'No cards for me,' replied the other, seating himself and leaning his cheeks between his hands, with his elbows on his knees, and his eyes fastened on the fire. 'I want to be on the move. God! How I wish it was time! This cursed room is enough to suffocate one. Curse me, but it smells of coffins and dead men, and is as cold as a church-vault. It goes to a fellow's very bones.'

There was something so unusual in the mood of his comrade, that Jones at last started up and said:

'Blast me, Tim, but you must stop this. You're making me as wild and frightened as yourself. Talk of your beaks, and courts, and prisons, and bullets, and pistols, as much as you like; but d--n it, leave your dead men, and coffins, and vaults, and all them 'ere to themselves, will you! Curse me, if you ain't enough to make a sneak of any man. So just stop, will you? If you can't talk of something better, don't talk at all.'

Craig took him at his word; and drawing his bench closer to the fire, maintained his position, without moving or speaking for more than an hour.

Jones, in the mean while, for want of employment, again examined the pistols; drew out the loads, and reloaded them; then going to the closet, he brought out two very dangerous-looking knives, and after trying the points on his finger, proceeded to oil them. This over, he betook himself to whistling, at the same time, keeping time to his music by drumming his heel heavily on the floor. This, however, could not last forever; and finally, wrapping a heavy coat around his shoulders, he stretched himself at full length in front of the fire, and was soon sound asleep.

Not so his companion. In silence, without stirring, and scarcely breathing, yet wide awake, with ears alive to every sound, and distorting every sigh of the wind into the voice of a human being, he sat with white lips and a shaking hand until the faint chime of a clock, which reached him even above the noise of the storm, told him that the hour was come.

'Wake up!' said he, touching Jones with his foot. 'It's time to be off.'

Jones, with instinctive quickness, obeyed the call by springing to his feet, apparently as wide awake as if he had not closed his eyes during the night.

'All right!' said he, looking hastily about the room. 'Hey! but what's all this noise?'

'It's a horrible night; all hell seems abroad,' said Craig. 'But come; get ready, and let's be off.'

'Will we want any of _them_?' asked Jones, pointing to an upper shelf in the closet, on which was lying a number of uncouth-looking instruments, the nature of which was best known to themselves.

'Take the small crow; we may want _that_, but nothing more.'

'The bag, too?' inquired Bill.

'No; it's a girl we've to steal; d--n it, I wish it wasn't!'

While he was speaking, he had thrust his arms into a shaggy great-coat, and was tying a thick woollen wrapper over his mouth, so that the last remark was nearly lost in it. He then put on an oil-skin cap, not unlike what is called by sailors a 'sou'-wester,' and stood watching the proceedings of his comrade, which were by no means as expeditious as his own; for that gentleman proceeded very leisurely to encase his feet in a pair of thick woollen stockings, and a pair of shoes more capable of resisting the wet than those which he then wore. After this, he put an oil-cloth jacket over his other one, and surmounted the whole by a coat similar to that worn by Craig.

'One would suppose you was a baby, from your tenderness to yourself,' said Craig, impatiently. 'You ain't sugar, are you? Do you expect the rain to melt you?'

'I'm a sweet fellow, I know that,' replied the other, carefully buttoning his coat to the chin. 'I may be sugar for all I know, shouldn't be surprised if I was. I've been told so afore this; let me tell you _that_, my old feller. You ain't in kidney to-night. Take another pull at little Job,' said he, handing him the bottle, 'and we'll be off.'

Whatever Craig's contempt of the rain might be, it did not seem to extend to other liquids; for he took the bottle, and applying it to his lips, did not remove it until the bottom of it was not a little inclined toward the ceiling; perhaps its elevation might even have increased, had not Jones reminded him that it being late at night, the vessel could not be replenished, and that there was a 'small child' to be helped after him, who hated above all things sucking at the neck of a dry bottle.

Craig permitted the bottle to be taken from his hand, and stood with his eyes fixed on the floor in deep thought; nor did he arouse himself until Jones took him by the arm, and said:

'Come on; all's ready.'

Craig started at the words. 'The pistols and the glim?'

'I've got 'em.'

'And the crow-bar?'

'All snug _here_,' said Jones, touching the pocket of his great-coat.

'Good! Follow me.' Craig strode across the room, and went out.

It was a dreadful night. The rain spouted furiously from the water-conductors, and sped boiling and foaming through the streets. The wind too caught it up as it fell, and swept it in long sheets through the streets; and as the two men battled their way along, it seemed actually to hiss around them, like the long lash of a whip. The tempest had a rare frolic that night, and right merrily did it howl over the house-tops, and through the narrow streets; and fast and furiously did the water bubble and boil, as it dashed on like mad to the deep river, to take refuge in her bosom from its tormentor the hurricane.

Not a thing was stirring; not a beast. Not a man, except the two felons. A right glorious night it was for rapine and midnight murder. The house-dog had slunk in his straw, and the watchman was dozing away, under some shed, or stoop, or in some dark door-way. There was nothing to stand in the way of these enterprising men, save the fierce storm, and what cared they for that? It was the very night for them. If it came to blows, or if a life was to be taken, the death-cry would be lost in the howling of the wind; it was the night of all nights for _them_; and so thought Craig and his comrade, as they toiled along, with their heads bent down to keep the rain out of their faces.

'Is it far?' at last inquired Jones; 'we've come a mile.'

'Half a mile more,' replied Craig; and that was all that passed between them, until they stood in front of Harson's house.

'This is it,' said Craig.

He lifted the latch of the gate opening into the door-yard, and approached the house.

'Where are we to begin?' inquired Jones.

Craig pointed to a small window on a level with, or rather sunk somewhat below, the surface of the ground, with a kind of area around it. '_There_; there are iron gratings, but they are set in the wood, which is all rotten. Quick! try them with the crow-bar; they'll give.'

Jones, with an alacrity and adroitness which showed a long experience in such matters, after feeling his way to the place, and passing his hand over the bars to discover their exact situation, inserted his crow-bar between the stone-work and the wood, and at the very first application forced the whole out. A wooden shutter which opened from within, being merely secured by a wooden button, gave way before a strong pressure of his hand, and left the entrance open.

'Go in quick!--don't keep a fellow in the rain all night,' said Craig, in a sharp whisper. 'It's only three feet to the floor. Get in, will you?'

'Shut up! Cuss ye!' exclaimed Jones, savagely; 'let me take my own way.'

As he spoke, he inserted his feet, and gradually let himself down until he touched the floor. In a moment Craig was at his side, and closed the shutter.

'Now, quick! a light!' whispered he. In another minute, the dark lantern was lighted, and Craig, taking it up and throwing back the slide, turned it carefully around the place. It was a cellar, filled with empty barrels and boxes; and seemed to be a sort of receptacle for rubbish of all descriptions. At one end was a door leading to the upper part of the house. It was partly open. Without a word, Craig went to it and ascended the stairs, which were shut off from the kitchen by another door.

Craig opened this, and crossed the room with a quick yet stealthy step, but with the air of one perfectly familiar with the precincts. Passing through the entry, he went into Harson's sitting-room; from there into the outer room, communicating with the street.

'We'll open the street door, Bill,' said he, 'in case we have to bolt quick. There,' said he, as he drew back two bolts, and turned the key, don't forget the road. Leave all the doors open. That'll do. We'll get the girl first, and then we'll see what's to be done. First door at the head of the stairs. Quiet, quiet; there's a dog in the next room.'

Stealing up the stairs, they opened the door, and the full light of the lamp fell in the child's room. They could hear her low, regular breathing as she slept. Craig handed the light to his companion.

'I'll take her,' whispered he. 'Bring the light so that I can see. There, that will do.' He bent over her. As he did so, he accidentally stirred the bed-clothes, and the child opened her eyes; and before he could prevent it, a single wild cry escaped her as she caught sight of the wild faces which were bending over her.

'Christ! how she yelps!' exclaimed Craig, in a fierce whisper. He clapped his hand over her mouth. 'By G-d! there goes the dog too! we must be off. My chicken,' said he, in a low tone, 'if you understand plain English, you know what I mean when I say if you whisper loud enough to wake a cat, you'll get a bullet through your head. Hist! Bill, was that a door creaking? I can't hear for the d----d dog!' Both stopped and listened.

'It was only the door below,' said Jones. 'Quick! quick!'

Craig caught the child out of bed, wrapped a blanket about her to stifle her cries, in case she should make any, and moved to the door.

'Turn the light on the door; I can't see. There, that will do. Now then, it's open, and the game's ours.'

'_Not quite_!' said a stern voice; and the next instant Craig received a blow from a fist which sent him reeling back into the room.

'Watch! watch! murder! thieves!' bellowed Harson from without, while from the din, at least forty pug-dogs seemed to be barking in all parts of the entry.

'Shoot him! shoot him down!' shouted Craig, springing to the door. 'By G-d! the door's shut, and he's holding it from the outside!' exclaimed he, pulling it with all his force. 'He's as strong as a bull. Quick! shoot through the panel! He must stand behind the knob. Fire!'

Instead of obeying him, Bill Jones seized the child. 'Hark ye, old fellow,' said he; 'shut up, or I'll dash this girl's brains out. If I don't, d--n me!'

This appeal was heard, and operated upon Harson; but in a different manner from what they expected, for he relaxed his hold of the door so suddenly, that Craig fell backward, and bursting into the room, with a single blow prostrated the burglar, who was bending over the child, and dashed the light to the ground. His advantage was only momentary; for in a minute Craig flung himself upon him. But the old man's blood was up. In his young days he had been a powerful wrestler; and even now the robber found him no easy conquest, for he said, in a husky tone: 'This won't do, Bill. Drop the girl and come here. This blasted old fool will keep us all night.'

Instead of obeying him, Jones stole to the head of the stairs and listened. In an instant he sprang back.

'We must be off, Tim! Some one is coming. Quick! Let loose the man.'

But there were two to that bargain; for Harson had heard the words as well as the robber, and he held him with a grip like a vice.

'Let go your hold and we'll be off,' said Craig, in a husky voice.

'Never! You shall taste what you are so ready to give!' said Harson, fiercely.

'Bill, there's no time to lose!' exclaimed Craig, in a stern tone. 'Shoot him, and have done with it! There, now; I'll hold him.'

The report of a pistol followed; but as it did so, a deep groan came from Craig. 'You've done for me, Bill. The old fellow dodged. Run! run!--my rope's out.'

'Can't I help you, Tim?' exclaimed Jones.

'No, no; go! Get off; I'll not blow on you.'

Thus adjured, the robber paused no longer. But escape was now no easy matter; for at the door he was saluted by a loud voice:

'Hallo! Harry; is this you?'

'No, no, a thief! Grab him, Frank!'

The next instant Jones was in the grip of a powerful man, but he was a giant himself, and desperate. He flung himself with all his force upon his adversary, and both went to the floor together; Jones' hand on the other's throat.

There is something fearful in the grapple of a desperate man, even when feeble in frame; and in the case of Jones, who knew that every thing depended on his efforts, and whose fierce spirit was backed by muscles of iron, the conflict was one of such fury that the very walls of the old house shook. From step to step, from the landing to the hall, they fought; tugging and tearing at each other like two dogs, while Harry Harson in vain hung about them; the darkness and the rapidity of their motions preventing him from distinguishing friend from foe.

'By G-d! he's an ox for strength,' at last said Frank; 'if you'd do any thing, Harry, go to the door and sing out for the watch. I'll hold him.'

It might be that in order to utter these words the Doctor relaxed his grip, or it might be that the knowledge of the increased risk that he would run gave additional strength to the robber, for he made a single desperate effort, tore himself from the iron grasp that held him down, rose to his knee, and striking the Doctor a blow in the face that for a moment bewildered him, sprang to his feet, dashed Harson from the door, bounded across the room between the hall and the street-door, and darted into the street at full speed.

'D--n me, Harry, he's off!' said the Doctor, assuming a sitting posture on the floor. 'He deserves to escape, for he fought like a devil for it. D--n him, he's a brave fellow! There's no use in chasing him, I suppose; you and I ain't cut out for running. If that last crack had hit me on the nose, it would have smashed it. Come, let's see after the other fellow; perhaps he's playing possum, and may be off. If you don't stop the barking of that d----d dog of yours, I'll kill him.' Groping their way back to the upper floor, from which they caught sight of Spite, rapidly retreating as they advanced, they found the house-keeper standing in the room which they had just left, arrayed in a particularly large white night-gown and wearing a particularly high cap, with a particularly fierce white ribbon on the top of it, and bearing in her hand a dim rush-light.

'Quick! Martha; more lights, and some brandy!' said Harson, pushing past her. 'Thank God! _you're_ not hurt, Annie! Come, Doctor, this poor devil is human,' said he, pointing to Craig, who lay on the floor apparently dead. 'Look to him; he breathes. I hear him.'

It needed no second appeal; for before he had finished, the Doctor had turned the robber over, opened his vest, and displayed a wound in his breast. He thrust his finger in it, and then looking up at Harry, shook his head.

'He's a case; _must_ go!'

'Poor fellow! God only knows what may have driven him to this. Help me to put him on the bed.'

Taking him in their arms, they placed him on the bed; and there they sat and watched him until the dawn of day. The bright sunshine came cheerily in at the window; the storm had passed, and the sky looked clear and blue, as if it had never been unruffled. And at that hour, and in that room, with the golden sunbeams streaming in, lay Tim Craig, his head pressed heavily back upon the pillow, bound round with a cloth dabbled in blood. His face was blackened and bruised, and his shirt and the bed-clothes stained with blood. His breath was short and heavy, and at times, gasping; his mouth half open, and his dull eye fixed with a heavy leaden stare at the ceiling. His race was nearly run. He seemed utterly unconscious of the presence of any one, until the door opened, and Harson, who had gone out, came in.

He went to the bed, and leaned over the burglar. As he did so, his shadow falling across the man's face, attracted his attention, and he turned his heavy eye, and asked, in a husky voice:

'Will I go? What does he say?'

Harson shook his head. 'It's almost over with you, my poor fellow; God help you!'

The man turned his head away and looked at the wall.

'Do you understand me?' said Harson, anxiously bending over him.

'Yes, yes,' replied the man in the same mumbling tone; 'yes, I'm come for; my time's up. I was a strong man yesterday; and now! now----! It's very strange! very strange!' He muttered a few inarticulate words, and then resumed his old position, looking at the wall, with no sound escaping him except the low panting of his breath. Suddenly he said, in a louder tone:

'It's all very strange _here_.' He pointed to his head. 'Were you ever at sea? Yes; well, well--did you ever see a ship toss and swing to and fro--to and fro--to and fro, and yet keep straight on? Well, my brain reels and swims in that way. There are dim strange things; men, beasts, birds, and ghosts hovering about it; but I see straight on, and they are on all sides of the path; yes, I see it straight, straight, straight and plain. I'm going on it. They can't make me swerve; but it's awful to have such company about me on such a journey. Come close to me!'

Harson drew his chair close to the bed and sat down. 'I've sent for a clergyman,' said he, in a low tone; 'He'll be here presently. You must endeavor to chase away these thoughts; they are only dreams.'

Craig's thin lips contracted into a smile which was horrible, as without moving his eyes from their fixed position, he whispered: 'No, no; he won't do it--he'll not do it. No; I won't blow on you, Bill. Ha! how hot that bullet was! Lift me up! _He's_ there! Yes, lift me up, so that I may be above him; up! up! Ha! ha! that'll do. Bill, do you recollect the old school-master? There! Up! up!'

Harson put his arm under him, and raised him. As he did so, Craig's head fell against his shoulder, dabbling it with blood. The next instant he stretched himself out at full length, gave a shudder; a long rattling breath followed; and he fell back on the pillow--dead.

LINES TO DEATH.

How vain is human strength to flee,
Thou mighty ONE! from thee!

Thou hid'st the scenes that lie the grave beyond--
Thou hast the secrets of the world unseen;
Where the loved ones, the beautiful, the fond,
And all who tossed on life's wild sea have been,
Have gone in silence at thy dreadful call,
Great conqueror of all!

Empires are crumbled at thy dread command,
And nations rise and nourish but to fall;
Even earth is thine; and thou e'er long shalt stand,
And mark its wealth, and power, and beauty, all
Fade and depart as sunbeams in the heaven
Vanish and die at even!

The midnight storm, the tempest raging high,
The sweeping pestilence, and fell disease,
Rude winter's blast, and balmy summer's sigh,
Earth, and the sea whose murmurs never cease,
All are but agents of thy sovereign will,
Thy bidding to fulfil.

Couldst thou to man's earth-fettered soul reveal
The bliss thou bringest to the pure in heart,
Would sudden horror o'er his spirit steal,
When called at last with low-born joys to part?
Would he not rather sigh for that bless'd shore,
Where death is known no more?

Stern Power! though others shudder at thy tread,
And vainly seek thy arrow to evade,
Before thy stroke I fain would bow my head,
Nor grieve to see my transient pleasures fade:
In thy embrace my sorrows all shall cease,
For in the grave is peace!

H. C.

SKETCHES OF EAST-FLORIDA.

NUMBER FOUR.

ST. AUGUSTINE: THE LAST LOOK.

Our schooner was 'up' for Charleston by the first fair wind; but the captain was fastidious, and the only fair wind was directly aft. A point or two off would not do, unless it had been blowing for a day or two and was likely to continue till the captain could land his passengers in Charleston. Running in on the Georgia coast was always very delightful to the passengers, but not at all so to Captain S----. We had taken berths in the schooner about the middle of April, and when the first week in May had passed by, we began to think it would be difficult to find the precise article of air which the captain desired. During this time it seemed to have become coquettish, giving us all kinds of northerly, all varieties of east, and a preponderance of westerly wind, finishing off with a sirocco from the south-west, ('a Boston east wind boiled,' and the only unpleasant summer wind on the coast,) after which it stopped short; the sand and the orange blossoms settled again, and every thing hung perpendicular. The next morning a puff came up from the south in a very blustering manner, as though it had an immense capital to back it, but proved very short-winded. Our little craft thinking to beat us, shook its sails out right and left, and dashed out of the harbor, rounding the point in a handsome manner; but before reaching the bar it slacked away, till 'small by degrees and beautifully less,' it came to a dead stand; and the same evening we dashed back again with a no'th-east-by-east behind us, to the great delight of promenaders on the sea-wall and the public in general. Ladies rode through the streets at a hard-gallop; little niggers crept under balconies; and an individual who shall be nameless performed a feat with a certain Di. Vernon of that ilk, which resulted in a bill the next morning of some odd dollars for extra motion, and a severe lesson upon the moralities of fast-riding. The mid-day weather at this time was decidedly summerish, the temperature having the _feel_ of about seventy in our latitude, but ranging there from eighty to ninety degrees.

We were beginning the summer custom of gathering every morning to meet the 'doctor' (sea-breeze) on the square, only a short walk below, which I prolonged on the sea-wall to the little schooner, examined the labels on the berths, crushed an orange at the corner shop, and lounged up to the nine-pin alley to close up the 'unfinished business.' After bowling, if it was too warm to invent any thing that would not be forgotten before dinner, the old routine was the order of the day; and back-gammon or flirtation had it, according as we were nearer the Florida House or the one 'round the corner.' The thirty or forty others who had helped make the winter pleasant, had been gone for weeks, and our little parties for bathing or riding, or any other trifling matter which might be better than a cigar on the piazza, had that snug kind of personality which is so much more pleasant than safe, that I half-wished the thirty or forty had gone much sooner than they did.

I was sitting on the piazza one morning with a number of un-appropriated blank hours before me, a little embarrassed whether to tease the big bear in the yard or lean over and give up to it, with the old dog who was snapping at flies on the floor, when it struck me as something very fresh, that as the wind was still two points off, I could make one more sally into the country. Before the thought had time to cool, my horse was brought to the door, and looking about for a companion, I asked Miss H----, who hesitated and declined; but I found one in Lieut. T----, who was that morning going over to Picolata. The distance is eighteen miles, through an unbroken pine-barren, (one opening only, at Fort Searle, twelve miles out,) and an under-growth of palmettos of just sufficient height for Indians to hide in. For a long time the travel over all that portion of the territory lying south of a line fifty miles north of us, was with an escort of fifteen or twenty men, who moved at a slow rate, a hundred yards apart, so as not to present to the Indians more than one or two shots at a time from any one point.

Notwithstanding the precaution of a strong escort every day, out or in, on the Picolata road, there had been more downright murdering there than in any other part of the territory, some having been shot down almost in sight of Augustine. This was not escort-day, but if it had been, our horses were not disposed to be six hours in the sun, in going so short a distance. The little grey steed that I had been using for some weeks was not by any means a lady's article, but he had been alongside of them in many a ride on the beach, and so learned the trick of combining the playful and gallant in a very pretty manner. His ambition was to be always up to the mark, and a head more if his companion would allow it; but at the least indication of rivalry his head went down, and nothing less than iron muscles could keep him from his twelve-mile gait. If not well-matched it was his delight to dash ahead for a hundred yards, and then stop and look back, or perhaps return, make a short sweep around his companion, jog on sociably for a little, and then repeat the manoeuvre; and in doing this my arms were only sufficient to guide him a little in case he attempted the barren, and keep him clear of the saw-palmetto. T----'s animal belonged at Picolata. The quarter-master at the barracks had sent him up to be taken over, and as we mounted at the Florida House, I could not help smiling as I recognized the same fellow that the quarter-master had politely sent me for a similar purpose some time previous. He was long-bodied and very long-limbed, and having been brought up in camp, his motion had all the stiffness of the marching step. His point, any two points being given, was to make the straight line between them in the shortest possible time, in an unbroken trot; but there was no danger of his breaking it; he was not capable of a gallop; his limbs couldn't be brought to it.

We passed out of town at an easy pace, talking over the last night's ball; and while crossing the bridge the lieutenant called my attention to his saddle, a cast-iron frame thinly covered with leather, leaving large rib-spaces on the back, which he commended as being delightfully cool. 'But, my dear fellow,' said I, 'why didn't you get a blanket?' He replied that after getting accustomed to it, it was much easier than the padded saddle. 'Do you know,' said I, 'that that horse is a trotter?' 'I'm used to trotters,' said he. 'You ease up a little in the stirrups?' 'No; contrary to rules.'

We now entered the barren, and the moment the horses dipped their hoofs in the sand, the old 'forker,' seeing the problem to be solved, took the bit in his teeth and started for Picolata. At the first dash the forker went ahead. He had laid his course, as they say at sea, and no up-helm or down-helm had the slightest effect upon him. His mind was made up; no wavering, no playfulness, no scarishness, no looking to the right or left. Picolata was the point; 'no two ways' to Picolata; he was on the right way, and he was the horse to do it in double-quick time. The little grey had evidently thought it was too hot for any thing in his line; but as soon as he noticed any thing like game in his companion, his head went down as usual; and after a little hard running, we brushed by the old fellow, made the requisite heading, wheeled, passing the forker on the larboard quarter, and made the circuit, to his great satisfaction. 'Here we go!' said I, as we passed him again; and this time the grey kept 'head on' for some miles, till at length I succeeded in stopping him, and looked back. The forker was coming in a bee-line, T---- bobbing up and down 'with a short uneasy motion,' endeavoring to make a seat of his jacket which he had stripped off; and as he came nearer I noticed that he was trying to look very cool and comfortable. We waited till they came up, but there was no stopping; the forker went by without winking or noticing the grey in the slightest manner.

Easing up on the reins till we came abreast, 'How are you now?' said I. 'Oh, this is nothing' said T----, turning round a very little with a highly-charged expression of face; 'a little rough; yes, a little--little rough; but you observe my seat, Sir--West Point?' 'O yes,' said I; 'very fine--and cool, I suspect.' But there was not much chance of intelligible conversation. T---- kept on talking, but his remarks, meant for the quarter-master, were so barbarously broken, that I could only guess occasionally at some exclamations, which for point and emphasis were highly military. Our rate of travel was not, you observe, from five to ten, or from eight to twelve miles an hour, but exactly ten. That was the forker's motion, from which there was no deviation. If he was struck, his heels went up suddenly and very high, but it was no impediment. He evidently took the blow as a military order for a rear motion; nothing more, and no occasion for malice. Now, if any body wishes to know about the face of the country; how bounded, what products, etc., between Augustine and Picolata, I am unable to give the slightest information from any notes taken that morning. My perceptions were all _in medias res_; and I only remember seeing a wild turkey that we scared up, and an alligator that made for the water while we were a quarter of a mile distant, and splashed in in a great fright some time after we had passed him.

In little more than an hour we entered the opening at Fort Searle so suddenly, that I heard the orderly report, as he marched up to the commanding officer: 'Two gentlemen from Augustine, Sir.' 'Very well,' said the officer; and he turned to receive the lieutenant, but T---- was past all dignities. Stretching himself on a bench he ordered brandy-and-water, and as that was not quite the thing, added a little cherry bounce, and finished with old Jamaica, and presently went round a corner with a tumbler of the latter; but whether for external or internal application, I am unable to say. Without stopping long enough to get stiff, we mounted again, and after a few closing flourishes from the little grey entered the city of Picolata, consisting of one house, and were greeted with the chattering of ten thousand black-birds all in full chorus. A boat coming up very opportunely, we took passage in her that night, and next morning were at Pilatka.

A few miles south of that place, there is a small plantation on the river that had been deserted and the house burned down by the Indians during the first winter of the war. Some weeks previous, while at Pilatka, Colonel ---- had politely offered me a sergeant and nine men to visit the place, but shortly after reaching it they complained of the musquitoes and rode back to the camp, leaving me with the guide and Gen. W---- to finish the survey. I now found a young physician who was waiting an escort for Tampa Bay, and we went out alone; and after studying trails for a long time, and taking directions by the compass, we came in sight of the hammock when some miles distant, and entering by a winding road that was arched over so as to be almost dark as night, we emerged, after a quarter of a mile, in a little round spot in the wilderness, which for quiet beauty was beyond any thing I had ever before seen. There were some forty acres in the circle, and yet it looked not unlike a dollar in a tumbler, so high and dense was the forest. The magnolias, a hundred feet in air, were in full blossom, their white tops making an unbroken wreath over the area, while the lower branches of the live-oaks were loaded with the long moss, hanging like curtains, motionless in the bright light, and not a single bird on the tree-tops to break the perfect charm of the place. Beautiful, very beautiful! but how strangely still! A squirrel chattering, or the rat-tat of a woodpecker, would have been something; but there was not a single voice out; not so much as the hum of a musquito, though it was the hottest of summer days.

Why didn't the oaks speak, or the magnolias? If they had, shaken their white heads, and raising their trailing garments, had all burst out in some grand anthem, I should only have thought it quite in character; and if personally addressed, it would have seemed entirely a matter of course. I should have replied civilly, begged pardon for intruding in so informal a manner, and backed out as soon as possible; and perhaps the click of a rifle would have produced the same effect. We rode around the little gem, and found the charred timbers where the house stood, and a few orange trees that the Indians had left; but the cool spring was so hid in the high grass, that we were forced back with parched lips to the flat water at Pilatka, which place we reached in time for a late dinner; and just as the evening set in I took passage again for Picolata.

All the boats running on the river were in the government service, and ours at this time was loaded fore and aft with a company of dragoons, bound to Black Creek. As we left the dock, another large boat came out in a pompous manner, and gave us chase; and as the day had been intensely hot, a large line of clouds rolled over the bluff at the same time, probably from the gulf _en route_ to the Atlantic, and moving slowly across the river, gathered their black folds around the pine-tops, shutting all up, river and forest, every thing but our chimneys, in utter darkness. And now began a scene which combined little and great in a manner quite fantastic. Boatmen swearing and yelling to each other as the boats came near collision, and that infernal scream sounding off through the pine barrens like some spirit newly damned; horses prancing and threshing on the bows; men growling at cards, and over head thunder and lightning leading off the storm in a very brilliant and point-blank manner; all which was quite rousing and melo-dramatic. While I was noticing the pilot's manner of steering by flashes, a gentleman came up, whom I recognised as a resident of St. Augustine; and as he had a horse at Picolata, we agreed to go over together that night, as the darkness was rather favorable, and the road being sandy, we could ride rapidly without being heard.

It was late in the evening when we reached Picolata; and with a good deal of uproar, men shouting, steam puffing, and half a dozen blacks gesticulating on shore, we each made a fortunate leap to the dock; and walking up to the camp in a blaze of pitch-pine, we ordered our horses, and at eleven o'clock entered the pine woods for St. Augustine. 'I wouldn't go over to-night,' said the man as he brought up my horse; 'the rascals have been seen about here within a day or two; for God's sake, Sir, _don't_ go over to-night!' But this only gave a keener zest to the ride. I had carried with me every where a double-barrelled gun, but I had found it an awkward companion, and having been all day in the saddle I concluded to leave it to be sent over, and mean time trust to my friend's pistols.

The rain had ceased, and the wind had gone down, but the night was still so dark that we could only guess at the road by the strip of light over head, and now and then a flash, which would light up the avenue for a long distance ahead, and then leave it still darker than before. As we entered the barren at an easy trot, I was pleased to notice that the darkness or the storm had tamed my little grey into a very sober humor, and his companion also was in a very moralizing way. There was no starting at the lightning, no attempt at running, but with a noiseless tread they stepped daintily in the sand, pointing their ears hither and yon, and as it seemed to me, affecting a little scarishness, though what they could hear when the forest was so breathless, it was difficult to imagine; but every little while they would both leap some fifteen feet across the road, (which couldn't be affectation) shiver a little, and then pick their way carefully as before. We could see nothing, hear nothing; but horses are keen snuffers, and they might smell when we couldn't; but what was singular, the vaulting was done from the same side of the road.

We were still keeping up a little small-talk, when some miles in the forest, both horses, without any jump or start of any kind, stopped suddenly; and looking ahead, we saw something moving stealthily toward us. My companion cocked a pistol and challenged; but we only heard a little grumbling, and I counted him a dead man; but before we had time to guess about it, something brushed by, and by a flash of light we saw a glitter of buttons, and a man on horseback. Whoever or whatever he was, we saw him but a moment, and he was soon out of hearing. With a remark or two upon the fool-hardiness of the man, we quickened our pace, and went on at a dashing rate, abreast and Indian fashion, just as it happened; now one leading and now the other, according to the wind of our horses; and in this manner we were passing the most dangerous part of the road, when there was a sudden whizzing about our ears, and the report of half a dozen rifles. The little grey reared and plunged and I landed--where, I don't know; but the next that I remember, I was standing alone in the pine barren. I had been running for a long time; how far I couldn't tell, being conscious only of dodging often from one tree to another. On looking about I remarked that the clouds had opened a little, and that there was nothing to be seen or heard in any direction. Presently I heard a yell, and looking around, a strapping Indian, with his rifle drawn to his eye, fired as I faced him, and the ball parted a lock of my hair in a manner very embarrassing. I levelled upon the rascal, but missed fire; the rain had wet the powder in the tube. The fellow took no pains to hide himself, but was very coolly loading again, and had got his ball ready, when I once more started off at full speed.