loud of
anxiety which had before brooded over his features. Throwing down the
sheet, he drank off a glass of brandy, which had been waiting his
pleasure on the table. The potion was not insignificant in quantity or
strength, and the wry face he made did not add to the amiability of his
expression. As the dose permeated his brain, and produced that agreeable
lightness which is the first phase of intoxication, he rubbed his hands
with childish delight, and half muttered an expression of pleasure.

Suddenly his countenance assumed its former lowering aspect, his brows
knit, and his lips compressed.

"Missing!" muttered he. "What the devil does _missing_ mean? What can it
mean but dead, defunct, gone to a better world, as the canting
hypocrites say?"

But we will not attempt to record the muttered soliloquy of the
gentleman,--Jaspar Dumont, who had reached Vicksburg that day, from the
wood-yard where we left him. It was too profane, too sacrilegious, to
stain our page.

Grasping the bell-rope with a sudden energy, as though a new thought had
struck him, he gave it a violent pull, which brought to his presence a
black waiter.

"Has the Dragon returned?" asked Jaspar.

"Yes, sar, jus got in, Massa."

"Is there any person in the house who went up in her?"

"Yes, massa, one gemman in de office."

"Who is he?"

"Massa--massa--" and the darkey scratched his head, to stimulate his
memory, which act instantly brought the name to his mind.

"Massa _Lousey_."

"Mister what, you black scoundrel!"

"Yes, sar,--Massa Lousey; dat's de name."

"Lousey?" repeated Jaspar.

"Stop bit," said the waiter, a new idea penetrating his cranium. "Dar
Lousey, dat's de name, for sartin."

"Dalhousie," responded Jaspar. "Give my compliments to Mr. Dalhousie,
and ask him to oblige me with a few moments' conversation in this room."

"Yes, sar;" and the waiter retired, muttering, "Dar Lousey."

The Dragon was a small steamer, which had been sent, on the intelligence
of a "blow up," to obtain the particulars for the press, and render
assistance to the survivors. Dalhousie was a transient visitor at the
hotel, and, with many others, had gone in the Dragon to gratify his
curiosity.

"Sorry to trouble you, sir," said Jaspar, as the gentleman entered the
apartment; "but I am much interested in the fate of several persons who
were passengers on board the Chalmetta."

"No trouble, Mr. Dumont, I am extremely happy to serve you," replied