Chapter IV: "two Hearts That Beat as One."

Several of the Richmond churches were opened that Sunday night, and thither repaired many of the Cottonocracy, devotional children of Bale, to implore Providence in behalf of an army whose heroes have generally appeared, in the eyes of the Federal troops, to be wholly Leave-ites. The recent intelligence of "another confederate victory," at Williamsburg, had added a finishing touch to the panic created by reports of the triumphal retreat from Yorktown previously received, and the fervor of Richmond's piety on that evening was eminently worthy of a city liable at any moment to be cannonized. The reverend clergy of the rebel capital selected their texts from Exodus by instinct, as it were, and proved so conclusively that the Yankee invader was no man, that the listening congregations were impressed with an instructive and repentant sense of their own wickedness, (for they are the wicked who invariably flee when "no man" pursueth,) and several members evinced their new-born disgust at this sinful world by resolutely closing their eyes upon it at once.

In his pew sat Mr. VICTOR E. ORDETH, with his wife and son, the latter a member of the Richmond Home Guard. Stiff and erect he sat, like a solemn note of admiration in a printer's case, ready to be used at the end of any sounding passages, suffering an expression of weighty approval to cross his countenance when the preacher hoped the same planets might not thereafter be destined to shine on the North and the South.

And well he might; for there had been something in the late capture of New Orleans and other ports by the Union fleets to impress the Southern mind with no small dread of the North's tar.

LIBBY remained at home under plea of sick-headache; but no sooner were her parents fairly out of the house, than said plea proved to be entirely invalid. At least, the young lady darted to her own private room in a very sprightly manner, brought out from thence a small package, and finally repaired to the apartment wherein Mr. BOB PETERS kept solitary vigils and a bright lookout. Before passing in, however, she paused to have a few words with the faithful JOCKO, whom she discovered on his knees before the door of the captive's cell, with his right eye slightly to the left of the knob.

"JOCKO!" she exclaimed, reproachfully, "what are you doing here, you ridiculous thing?"

"Miss LIBBY," said the humble servitor, looming dimly in the shadow of the hall as he slowly arose from his feet, "Ise ben prayin' dat you might become a christian, and one ob these days, when de great Hallelugerum come, hab wings and a harp."

Scarcely were these affecting words uttered, when Mr. PETERS tore open the door rather disrespectfully, so greatly discomposing the devoted black that the latter incontinently fled.

"My dear girl," said BOB, leading his fair visitor into the room, "I'm delighted to see you. The shutters are up, the gas is lit, and I'm prepared to do the sentimental. Oh-um-m--Lubin's Extracts!" ejaculated Mr. BOB PETERS. For he had kissed her.

"There, dear ROBERT, don't be so absurd. You know you are going to leave us to-night, and I have brought you--" here LIBBY blushed with that exquisitely ingenuous emotion which is excited by the consciousness of benefiting one we love--"I have brought you some things that may be of use on your journey. You won't be angry with me for it, will you, dear BOB? There's a smoking cap, and a pair of crochet slippers, and some drawing pencils, and a volume of TUPPER."

"My darling LIBBY!" remarked the deeply affected ROBERT, alighting on those tempting lips once more. "But did you think, love--did you think to put a quart of ice-cream and a few hair-pins in the package?"

"Why, no."

"Ah, well," said Mr. BOB PETERS, abstractedly, "I suppose I can buy them on the road."

Silence, disturbed only by the beating of those two hearts, reigned for a few seconds, then--

"BOB," said LIBBY, looking shyly up to him, "we shall be very happy when we are married and live North?"

"Yes, indeed," said BOB.

"We'll live in such a beautiful house on Fifth Avenue, dear, and have such nice things. Because, you know, you can make so much money by your writings."

"Millions! my love," said Mr. BOB PETERS, with sudden and wonderful quietude of tone. "When I left New York prose was bringing two dollars for seven pounds in the heavy dailies, and philosophical poetry quoted at six shillings a yard, and no hexameters allowed except for EMERSON and HOMER. Ah!" said Mr. PETERS, his melancholy deepening rapidly to bitterness, "my last poem sickened me. It was called 'Dirge: addressed to a lady after witnessing the Drama of the "Toodles,"' and commenced in this way:

'Not all the artist's pow'r can limn,
Nor poet's grander verse disclose,
The plaintive charm that ev'ning dim,
Imparts unto the dying rose.'"

"How pretty!" said LIBBY.

"Yes, my dear," responded Mr. PETERS, somewhat gloomily; "but because I used 'dim' to rhyme with 'limn,' all the papers credited it to GENERAL MORRIS."

Recollections of this flagrant piece of injustice so affected Mr. BOB PETERS, that he smote his breast and called himself a miserable man. "I really don't know but I'd better stay here and be hung like a respectable patriot," murmured the desolated young man.

"How absurd!" exclaimed the young lady, "you will be glad enough to get away to-night. Remember, now, you are to start down stairs at quarter-past Twelve, precisely, and JOCKO will open the front door for you. Then go straight to the bridge, where you will find my brother, who will get you by the guard."

"That reminds me," observed Mr. PETERS, "what time is it? I must set my repeater."

LIBBY consulted her watch and answered that it was half-past eight, whereupon Mr. BOB PETERS fished from his fob a vast silver conglomeration, and having wound it up with a noise like that of a distant coffee mill, and set it correctly, proceeded to hang it, for convenient reference, upon the gas-branch across the mirror.

"Dear BOB, good bye."

"Fare thee well, and if for ever, still remember me," responded Mr. PETERS, with some vagueness.

"We shall meet again?" said LIBBY, lingering.

"If I did not believe it," replied Mr. BOB PETERS, with vehemence, "I should at once proceed to kill myself at your feet, covering the walls and furniture of the apartment with my gore."

"God bless you, BOB."

They parted wiping their mouths. Miss ORDETH went down stairs in tears, had a fit of hysterics on the sofa, and fell asleep with her head in the card basket.