“The jail!”

“Yes, Madame, the jail.  His profession, although essential to the elevation of our politicians and statesmen, is nevertheless unlawful.  And he being obliged to practice it in opposition to the law, quietly submits to the penalty, which is a residence in the old prison for a short time.  It’s a nominal thing, you see, and he has become so habituated to it that I am inclined to the belief that he prefers it.  I proceeded to the prison and found he had been released.  One of our elections comes off in a few days.  The approach of such an event is sure to find him at large.  I sought him in all the drinking saloons, in the gambling dens, in the haunts of prostitution-in all the low places where our great politicians most do assemble and debauch themselves.  He was not to be found.  Being of the opposite party, I despatched a spy to the haunt of the committee of the party to which he belongs, and for which he cribs.  I have paced the colonnade for more than an hour, waiting the coming of this spy.  He did not return, and knowing your anxiety in the matter I returned to you.  To-morrow I will seek him out; to-morrow I will get from him what he knows of this woman you seek.

“And now, Madame, here is something I would have you examine.” (Mr. Snivel methodically says he got it of McArthur, the antiquary.) “She made a great ado about a dress that contained this letter.  I have no doubt it will tell a tale.”  Mr. Snivel draws from his breast-pocket the letter found concealed in the old dress, and passes it to Madame Montford, who receives it with a nervous hand.  Her eyes become fixed upon it, she glances over its defaced page with an air of bewilderment, her face crimsons, then suddenly pales, her lips quiver-her every nerve seems unbending to the shock.  “Heavens! has it come to this?” she mutters, confusedly.  Her strength fails her; the familiar letter falls from her fingers.  For a few moments she seems struggling to suppress her emotions, but her reeling brain yields, her features become like marble, she shrieks and swoons ere Mr. Snivel has time to clasp her in his arms.

CHAPTER XX.

Lady Swiggs encounters difficulties on her arrival in new York.

A pleasant passage of sixty hours, a good shaking up at the hands of that old tyrant, sea-sickness, and Lady Swiggs finds the steamer on which she took passage gliding majestically up New York Bay.  There she sits, in all her dignity, an embodiment of our decayed chivalry, a fair representative of our first families.  She has taken up her position on the upper deck, in front of the wheel house.  As one after another the objects of beauty that make grand the environs of that noble Bay, open to her astonished eyes, she contrasts them favorably or unfavorably with some familiar object in Charleston harbor.  There is indeed a similarity in the conformation.