The conversation that now went on among the company was of such an obscene and profane character that, in disgust, I went out.  The night was clear, the air soft, and the moon shining down brightly.  I walked for some time in the porch, musing on what I had seen and heard; while a constant stream of visitors came pouring into the bar-room.  Only a few of these remained.  The larger portion went in quickly, took their glass, and then left, as if to avoid observation as much as possible.

Soon after I commenced walking in the porch, I noticed an elderly lady go slowly by, who, in passing, slightly paused, and evidently tried to look through the bar-room door.  The pause was but for an instant.  In less than ten minutes she came back, again stopped—­ this time longer—­and again moved off slowly, until she passed out of sight.  I was yet thinking about her, when, on lifting my eyes from the ground, she was advancing along the road, but a few rods distant.  I almost started at seeing her, for there no longer remained a doubt on my mind, that she was some trembling, heartsick woman, in search of an erring son, whose feet were in dangerous paths.  Seeing me, she kept on, though lingeringly.  She went but a short distance before returning; and this time, she moved in closer to the house, and reached a position that enabled her eyes to range through a large portion of the bar-room.  A nearer inspection appeared to satisfy her.  She retired with quicker steps; and did not again return during the evening.

Ah! what a commentary upon the uses of an attractive tavern was here!  My heart ached, as I thought of all that unknown mother had suffered, and was doomed to suffer.  I could not shut out the image of her drooping form as I lay upon my pillow that night; she even haunted me in my dreams.

NIGHT THE SIXTH.

More consequences.

The landlord did not make his appearance on the next morning until nearly ten o’clock; and then he looked like a man who had been on a debauch.  It was eleven before Harvey Green came down.  Nothing about him indicated the smallest deviation from the most orderly habit.  Clean shaved, with fresh linen, and a face, every line of which was smoothed into calmness, he looked as if he had slept soundly on a quiet conscience, and now hailed the new day with a tranquil spirit.

The first act of Slade was to go behind the bar and take a stiff glass of brandy and water; the first act of Green, to order beefsteak and coffee for his breakfast.  I noticed the meeting between the two men, on the appearance of Green.  There was a slight reserve on the part of Green, and an uneasy embarrassment on the part of Slade.  Not even the ghost of a smile was visible in either countenance.  They spoke a few words together, and then separated as if from a sphere of mutual repulsion.  I did not observe them again in company during the day.