him down the stairs, and again endeavored to force a sum
of money upon him; but Kornicker was resolute in his refusal, nor could he
be induced to go home with Harson that evening. He said that he was not
hungry.

After several ineffectual efforts, the old man permitted him to depart,
with the internal resolution of keeping his eye on him, and of giving him
a helping hand in the world; a resolution which we may as well mention
that he carried out; so that in a few years Mr. Kornicker became a very
vivacious gentleman, of independent property, who frequented a small
ale-house in a retired corner of the city, where he snuffed prodigally,
and became a perfect oracle, and of much reputed knowledge, from the
sagacious manner in which he shook his head and winked on all subjects.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.

It was a clear, cloudless night without, and the stars twinkled and
glistened as if the sky were full of bright eyes, looking gladly down upon
the world, and taking a share in all its gayety and happiness. There was
no moon, or rather the moon was a reveller, and kept late hours, and might
be detected sneaking through the sky at about one or two in the morning,
when she should have been a-bed; and in consequence of her neglect of duty
the streets were dark, except where here and there the shop windows threw
out bright streams of light, revealing now a wrinkled brow, now a fat,
jolly face, and now a pair of bright sparkling eyes, glowing cheeks, and
lips like a rose-bud, as the throng of people flitted past them; for an
instant clear, distinct, with face, feature, and form plainly visible, and
then lost in the darkness. Some paused to look in the windows, some to
chat; and it might have been observed, that those who lingered longest in
the light, were young, and such whose faces could bear both the test of
light and scrutiny. But amid that crowd was a single man, who followed the
same course as the rest; skulking in the dark corners, darting rapidly
across the streams of light, with his head bent down and his hat slouched,
as if he desired to avoid notice. When he reached those places which were
comparatively less thronged, he paused and leaned against the iron
railings of the houses, and more than once turned and retraced his steps,
as if he had changed or mistaken his route. He was, as far as could be
judged from the sudden and uncertain glimpses afforded of his person, tall
and gaunt, with sunken eyes, long unshorn beard,