and a face disfigured by
a deep gash. He had the appearance of one broken down by ill health or
suffering, and his panting breath, as he stopped, showed that he was
taxing his strength by the pace at which he went. Although he paused
often, and often turned back, yet in the end he resumed his journey, and
finally reached the upper part of the city. There he struck into a dark
cross-street. Once free from the crowd, and where few could observe him,
his smothered feelings broke out; and muttering to himself, grating his
teeth, blaspheming, now striking his clenched fists as if aiming a blow,
he darted on. He did not pause until he came to the house of no less a
person than Harry Harson. He crossed the door-yard hastily, as if he
feared his resolution might give way; opened the front door, for Harry had
no enemies, and his door was unbolted, and entered the outer room. The
door communicating with the inner room was open, so that he could see
within; and perhaps never was there a greater contrast than between the
occupants of those two rooms. In one was a man eaten up by fierce
passions, desperate and hardened, with all that is noble in the human soul
burnt out as with a hot iron; in the other sat an old man whose benevolent
features beamed with good will to all mankind. There was scarcely a
wrinkle in the broad full brow; the hair was sprinkled with gray; but what
of that? His eye was bright; his mouth teemed with good nature; and his
heart--God bless thee, old Harry Harson! what need to speak of thy heart?

The intruder had come in so noiselessly, although his motions were rapid
and bold, that Harson had not heard him, but sat reading a newspaper, and
was not a little startled in looking over it to see a man seated within a
few feet of him, and gazing at him with eyes as wild and bright as those
of a maniac.

'Who are you, in the name of heaven?' ejaculated he, too surprised even to
rise, and looking at the stranger as if he still doubted the reality of
his being in that spot.

The man laughed, savagely: 'Look at me, my master; look at me _well_;
you've seen me afore. Try and recollect it.'

Harson's embarrassment was not of long duration, and he examined the man
from head to foot. A vague recollection of having met him somewhere,
mingled with an indefinable feeling of suspicion and pain, crossed
Harson's mind as he studied the sunken features which were submitted
unshrinkingly to his scrutiny. He thought, and pondered