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(\ '- i&ktt'-iii l' . „_i U■ . 'v : r .- : ' J^TA4’ A ‘lm r A. 1 4Rl§Qilon I : pi hsr* !fOoil /Cf jffe&f * ? 'v"aY-.li T /GSgifcl x/ fi&SC*£> , 'Eugio patria A S* # LL:- ': = '=- £“'•* YOL. 111. In a Pine Grove. I stood beneath some venerable pines, Where stately sterns, like clustered columns, rose, In wide cathedral aisles whose distant roof Soars like the arch of heaven’s protect ing dome. I stood and listened to a sound like waves In long folds leaping on a distant shore, With measured constant motion; with a tone Symphonions with the silence of the stars. Remembrance came of one calm even tide, Passed on the lofty margin of the sea, Among the ruins of a noble pile, That lifts its old gray visage to the storm; As in the troublous times of bygone years, * When grave recluses paved the solemn nave, And music blended with torn ocean’s roar: Whence, far to sea, the plaintive vesper chime Told the brown fisherman the hour of prayer. W r as that some Novice of the olden time, By western window seated, while the sun Touched lovingly her wealth of golden hair, And lit with rosy glow the Abbey walls ? Only the shafts of sunset through the stems, The sound of wind through the clustering pines. [London Society.] A ROMANCE OF A COUNTING-HOUSE. CHAPTER I. It came about in this way. I had mar-’ ried and was going to make my fortune, and therefore (having that laudable end in view) left a good situation at Yorkshire to settle down in Liverpool as a merchant “on ray own account” and commence to make it without delay. I had not much capital, and so resolved to economize at first. In course of time I imagined the tidy brougham and the country house across the Mersey would certainly come; and one serence September evening, many years ago, I was walking up and down St. George’s landing-stage, building cas tles in the air, wondering whether rents were high at New Brighton, and whether Kate would prefer a pony phaeton to a brougham. lam not sorry to add that I still reside in a modest house up Edge Hill way, and that I come to business as Cmsar went to Rome, according to Joe Miller, summa dihgentia , on the top of an omnibus. I was waiting for Mr. Moses to return to his office in a street hard by—call it Mersey street, and fer the reason that M. Moss Moses had a furnished place to let which his adver tisement called “two spacious counting rooms'’—goodness knows I never count ed much there in the shape of coin; and I did not like the situation; nor the nar row, dark staircase ; nor the look of the boy of Hebrew extraction who bawled “Cub id,” when I knocked, and told me, “Mr. Boses would be id at eight o’clock;’’ but twenty-five pounds a year was very cheap, so I told my young friend I would call at that time, and look at the “count ing-no*. ms.” How well I remember that night! The ferry-boats from the Chresbire shore gliding along with their lights twinkling like glowworms, the vast hull of the Great Eastern just visible iu the Sloyne, the squared yards and all a-taunt look of a seventy-four of the old school, showing . , * # CD b:ack and distinct against the daffodil sky, and the lap of the swell against the under timbers of the stage —I was inclined to be sentimental; but Mr. Moss Moses claim ed my attention, and once more I entered AT7QTTSTA, GA., SEPTEMBER 24, 1870. his office, and found him awaiting me. He was a little, fat, good-tempered Jew, who spoke decent English; and who, I afterwards found out, was constantly af firming in season, and out of season, that he was no descendant of Abraham. “Ilillo, Brunton!” he cried, jumping from his chair. “My lad told me you’d been here; where have you been these two months and more ? Look here, old fellow, I’ve advertised your place; but you can have it on the old terms.” “Some mistake, sir, I believe,” and I handed him a card bearing the inscrip tion “Charles Harker.” He took it and held it to the gas-light, looked at the back, considered it end ways, and pondered over it upside down. Then taking the candle his clerk had brought, held it close to my face. “If you are not disposed to proceed to business, I will bid you good-night,” said I, greatly annoyed at his manner. “It’s him, and it ain’t him,” he said aloud ; “Carl never could look a man in the face as this one does. And yet I don’t see my way through the features.” “There is no necessity for you to trouble yourself about my features !” I exclaimed, opening the door—“good night.” “Stop, stop, my good sir ! and don’t be offended. It’s a mistake. All Isaac’s mistake, upon my honor.” “All a bistake, echoed young Isaac. My curiosity was excited, and, besides, I really wanted the offices; and I there fore allowed myself to be persuaded into mounting the narrow staircase, until we faced a door bearing the name of Brun ton on it in white letters, and having the two upper panels glazed, more, I should imagine, to supply light to the staircase than for admission of light to the office Mr. Moses produced a key, and turn ing to me with a good-natured smile, said, “I’d have sworn you were Brunton five minutes ago, but I am sure now that I was wrong, Carl always swore as he came upstairs, and you haven’t. It’s Bruntou’s face all but the eyes, and I’d swear to the eyes anywhere. That is to the twinkle of ’em, y-ou know.” And he unlocked the door and invited me within. Walking to a table on which he had placed the light, I took a chair, and pro duced my pocket-book. “Before we go further, Mr. Moses, let us quite understand each other. I have no wish to derive any benefit from any virtues Mr. Brunton may possess, and I am going to convince you that I am what I represented myself to he. Be good enough to read that letter.” It was one from a merchant in the noith, only received that moraine:, and mentioned circumstances which were suf ficient to settle anv doubts as to my iden tity. Mr. Moses read it, folded it up briskly, and presented it to me with a bcw. “Sir, I apologize. I confess that up to this moment I fancied it was Carl; but what puzzled me was, that such a surly fellow should take to larking and play ing the fool. You are very much like my last tenant, sir, that is alt.” “Very well; now that matter is settled, let us look at the rooms.” The lighted gas showed me a large one and very barely furnished. There was a large leather-covered table with a desk on it, four chairs, an inkstand, and a par tially filled waste-p-'per basket, and that was all. “Rather meagre, Mr. Moss.” “Now, my dear sir, what more could you want ? Would you like a safe ? I’ve got one to spare down-stairs and yen shad have it, and anew mat for your feet —there now, I hate haggling.” “Let me sec the other room, please.” It was one which a person sitting at the table would have right opposite to him, and it had no door. “It was a clerk’s office,” Mr. Moss said, “and you wanted your eye on such chaps.” I sug gested that the principle might some- times want privacy, whereupon he said “ho hod the door downstairs and it ! should be hung at once if I wished it.” But having no intention of engaging a clerk present I told him it was of no consequence. The room was about half the size of the outer one, and contained a desk and stool, h here was a large closet for coals and such-like matters, and a good allow ance of dust and cobwebs all over. ‘Til have it cleaned up to-morrow,” said Mr. Moss. “It looks beautiful when clean, and you’ll find the desk to be real Spanish mohogany.” They would suit me well enough, and I told Mr. Moss so; paid him a quarter’s rent in advance, and rose to depart “Oh! by-the-way, Mr. Moss,” I ex claimed, a sudden thought striking me; “I will send a man to paint my name on the door, and on the wall down stairs.” “Very good, sir; I would do it at once if I were you. Carl was a loose fish, and if you delayed it until you g}t here you might be annoyed.” “Plow so ? What was he ?” “Take a cigar first, Mr. Harker, you’ll find no better in Liverpool. Lord ! how like him you do look when I don’t see your eyes.” “And yet I have not been thought to resemble a loose fish before, Mr. Moss.” “I didn’t mean that. Have you never seen an ugly person resemble a very hand some one ? I have, many a time. Well, about Carl : he was here about two years, and call me a Jew if I could reckon him up. He used to come here about noon, and work up to eight or nine o’clock at night; but what business he worked at I never could find out. I knew he had a big ledger, and two or three such books; but a big ledger won’t make a business any more than a big carpet bag will, and he always carried one. He would come and smoke a cigar with me now and then; but I never came up here during all that time, and he kept this door locked. He always seemed to bo expecting a blow, did poor Carl, more like a rat in a corner than anything else, poor beggar ! Well, sir, one morning I found the key on my mat, and found the place just as you see it, and have never seen Carl since. One or two queer looking men have inquired about him, and asked if he was coming back, and I said most likely he would, and likely enough he will.” “Not at all an interesting story,” I thought, aud I felt inclined to yawn in Mr. Moss’s face; but I thanked him for information, and promised to take pos session in three days, which I spent in presenting my letters o f introduction, and making other arrangements for the prose cution of my plans. At length the eventful day arrived, and I stood in my own office, with my name emblazoned on the door and passage wall. I was waiting for a friend to call on me (who, by-the-way, had promised to put me in the way of doing some business that very day), and felt impatient for his ar rival in consequence. The office was clean and tidy, and the floors had been well scrubbed. Why hadn’t they emptied the waste paper basket of all that lumber ? The office-keeper had lighted a fire, and I took up the basket to perform the opera tion myself; but from some cause or other I placed it on the table and began idly to burn the scraps one by one. I had nearly disposed of them all when a scrap attracted my attention and I read it. It was torn so as to leave a few words intact, and it ran thus— “ Louise has given your description, and you may rely on our finding 3-011. Forward the plates at once, or ” Then another piece of mysterious pa per, apparently a plan of some place or other. What did th’s mean ? But I had no time to consider, for mv friend entered, and putting the two pieces of paper in my drawer, I emptied the basket in the fire, and went out with him to do a good day’s work. Returning late in the evening, I relit the fire, and addressed myse'f to the writ ing of two important letters to be posted by 11:30 that night, in order to be in time for the Cunard liner, which sailed early in the morning ; and then it was that the black darkness of the doorless room opposite to me began to trouble me most. It had troubled me before* but on this night it troubled me twofold. From child hood I have been imaginative, and know ing this, I stirred the fire, called myself an ass, and went on with rny letter. But not for long. My eyes wandered to the black darkness of the doorway, and I began to ransack my memory for statistics of men who could tell by some occult pow er if any one were bidden in the room they entered ; and I laughed aloud when I remembered that I had read (f one sen sitive gentleman, who by this same occult sense had found that a surgeon’s skeleton was in a closet behind him. I own I dislike being in the dark, but I will do myself the justice to say that I have resolution enough to overcome the dislike. Therefore I proposed to myself to very quietly walk into the dark room which which troubled me and (without a light), look out of the windows, aud slowly return. I went—the very first step beyond the threshold dispelled my fears. I could see the glimmer of the stars through the glass, hear the rattle of the cabs outside. it was quite a cheerful place, after all ! Ila ! there was a shufiling noise there by the closet, aud then my fears return ed and overpowered me. 1 strove to walk out like a tragedy hero; but ivy pace quickened as I neared the door and heard the shuffling noise close to me, and the next moment a powerful hand was at my throat, and helpless on the floor with the cold muzzle of a pistol pressed to my- head, I was bound and dragged into the outer office, thrust into my chair and confronted by two quiet lookiDg men, one of whom laid his re volver on the table, saying at the same time with an ugly sneer : “So, Brunton, we have caught you at last.” CHAPTER 11. The speaker was a mild, intelligent looking man of about thirty'-five. 111 a proper dress lie would have looked like a high-church clergyman. His companion was evidently a foreigner, and I imagine a German, lie was about fifty- y-ears of age and wore spectacles, and a profusion of beard and whiskers covered more than half his face. But he had a winning smile and good teeth, which he often took an opportunity of showing. “We have found you at last.” I am thankful to say that I am not. nervous when I see danger, and I boldly 7 replied— “My name is Harker and not Burton ; Mr. Moss, the lanulurd of these premises, has noticed my resemblance to his late tenant, and is satisfied that I am not the same. Depend upon it that I shall make you repent this outrage.” I tried to rise to call for help from the street, but the pistol was cocked and pointed at me, and there was that in the man’s face which cautioned me against rashness in my helpless position. “I will sit down,” I replied, “and hear what you have to say; but if I choose to do it I shall do my best to raise au alarm in spite of your revolver.” ‘A ell spoke, Carl,” said the foreig ner ; “Louise always say- he a plucky 7 one.” “Now then, Burton,” whispered the other, “let us have no nonsense. We have not met be 0 e, it isjtrue, but Louise has so well described you, that putting another name on your door was simply idiotic. Besides one of ours has watch ed for your return, and wo comm uni-■ ted with him directly as we landed. Go free if you like, but we will h i.v .* the 'plates'' “Dat’s the matter vid us,” echoed the German ; “ve vill have the p.ates.” “I know nothing of any plates,” I cried “nor of Louise, nor of you. All I know is, that you will see the inside of a prison very shortly.” “And you think you can throw us, throw me over in this way! Do you think you deal with children?” “I think I deal with a burglar. Most certainly with a rascal of some-sort or other.” Here my two friends held a whispered conference. Then he of the revolver turned sharply towards me. “ Will you marry Louise ? Will you give up the plates, aud marry my sister?” “She love you like old boots,” added the German ; and from which I opine that he prided himself on a knowledge of English idiom. Iu spite of my serious position I was getting thoroughly amused. The dark doorway held unknown terrors to un excited imagination; but two common place fellows who had make a mistake only caused a feeling of merriment, even in spite of the revolver. “1 am sorry I cannot oblige you,” I replied. “I am flattered by the lady’s preference ; but having one wife al ready, I fear I must decline taking a second ; and as for the plates, please ex plain what you mean.” The answer to this flippant speech was a blow on the face, wLich sent the blood streaming on the fl >or. “\ou ll remember insulting the sister of Louis Orloff! Here, Baron, let us gag him, and search ; he will be rais ing an alarm presently.” They thrust a piece of rope between my teeth, compressing my windpipe to make me open my mouth ; and there I sat helpless whilst they turned out the contents of my desk and drawers, not forgetting my cashbox, which was open ed with a key taken from my waistcoat pocket, and the contents appropriated. Knowing that the two scraps of paper I had found in the waste-paper basket, and placed in my drawer, must have reference ! tj their visit, I watched very anxiously when they opened it. But they escaped notice, and 1 felt that I had got some clue to the mystery, even if these men escaped; and I had quite determined | that they should not escape, for I was in j securely bound, and had been working I liarti K. get niy right hand free, and” I thanks tu having a very narrow one, I I now found myself able to slip it through ! the loop widen encircled the wrist; but I I “bided my time,” for I saw that a faße move might bring a bullet through my head. “Be p.ates is in ze oder room, Carl ! Brunton, mou ami,” said the Baton. I smiling, aud patting my shoulder. “Vy not say? \v shoot we you? You do dem so well, ve no get any like dem And you use them yourself, and den. Ach Gott ! you upset do cart of do apple.” “Yes,” I thought ; “and it’s odd to me if 1 don’t upset your cart of de apple be fore long.” “In dare ; in back room?” asked the Laron, with another amiable smile. I said, “Yes,” with my eyes. &ce now, ray Louis, you were t > rough. You into him pitch like dam So sec him amiable.” Then to me “And you will marry Louise, who ’ we you like old boots?” My- other hand was fiee now. I t:i and to speak, and implored with my eyes idr the gag to be removed. The Baron removed it, and while doing so I resolved on a plan of o-iera tiem. “You will marry Louise and r ,l , . n,, ** * & tne plates? “I will give you every satisfaction ” ‘A .A it, business, said Louis Or luff, No. 28.