l make him an unconscious agent of mine,
notwithstanding. In the meantime, let nothing appear in your manner that
might induce them to suspect the present position of affairs between us.
They may come to know it soon enough, and then it will be our business
to act with greater energy and decision."

And so it was arranged between this precious mother and son.

Woodward who was quick in the conception of his projects, had them
all laid even then; and in order to work them out with due effect, he
resolved to pay a visit to our friend, Sol Donnel, the herb doctor.
This hypocritical old villain was uncle to Caterine Collins, the
fortune-teller, who had prognosticated to him such agreeable tiding's on
the night of the bonfire. She, too, was to be made useful, and, so far
as money could do it, faithful to his designs--diabolical as they were.
He accordingly went one night, about the hour mentioned by Donnel,
to the cabin of that worthy man; and knocking gently at the door, was
replied to in a peevish voice, like that of an individual who had been
interrupted in the performance of some act of piety and devotion.

"Who is there?" said the voice inside.

"A friend," replied Woodward, in a low, cautious tone; "a friend, who
wishes to speak to you."

"I can't spake to you to-night," replied Sol; "you're disturbin' me at
my prayers."

"But I wish to speak to you on particular business."

"What business? Let me finish my padereens and go to bed like a vile
sinner, as I am--God help me. Who are you?"

"I don't intend to tell you that just now, Solomon; do you wish me to
shout it out to you, in order that the whole neighborhood may hear it? I
have private business with you."

"Well," replied the other, "I think, by your voice and language, you're
not a common man, and, although it's against my rule to open at this time
o' night to any one, still I'll let you in--and sure I must only say my
prayers aftherwards. In the manetime it's a sin for you or any one to
disturb me at them; if you knew what the value of one sinful sowl is in
the sight of God, you wouldn't do it--no, indeed. Wait till I light a
candle."

He accordingly lighted a candle, and in the course of a few minutes
admitted Woodward to his herbarium. When the latter entered, he looked
about him with a curiosity not unnatural under the circumstances. His
first sensation, however, was one that affected his olfactory nerves
very strongly. A combination of smells, str