red; it points to my withered husband, and says--'there is your
only _lawful_ love.' Heavens! the very thought of him sickens and
disgusts me; _he_ a lover! He is no more to be compared to thee, my
St. Clair, than is the withered leaf of autumn to the ripe peach or
juicy pomegranate!'

"'By all the gods of war,' exclaimed the Captain, fired with
admiration at her beauty and the fervor of her passion for him, and
straining her to his breast in a perfect phrenzy of transport--'thy
husband shall be no longer a stumbling-block between us, angel of my
soul; I will insult him--he will challenge me--we will fight--I am the
best shot in Europe, and he will be shot through the heart, if the
cold dotard have one. Yet stay--damn it, why not have him disposed of
after the manner of the valet? Ha, ha! a good thought! Simpson, what
say you? Will you do it for a couple of hundred guineas, and without
laying claim to the favors of her ladyship?'

"The last sentence was uttered with a very palpable sneer; it enraged
me, for by it I was reminded of the manner in which I had been
swindled out of the reward promised for my other murder. Besides, the
man's cool villainy, and the woman's shameless lechery, disgusted me,
bad as I was; for they belonged to that class which professes all the
gentility, refinement and virtue in the world; and to hear the one
glorying in adultery, and the other deliberately proposing murder,
afforded such a damnable instance of the sublime hypocrisy peculiar to
the "upper ten" of society, that I became desperately angry, and
answered the Captain in a manner that astonished him.--You will
remember, comrades, that as great a villain as I am, I am no
hypocrite, and was never accused of being one. And yet hypocrisy
prevails in every department of life. Look," continued Jew Mike,
getting into a philosophical strain, and stroking his enormous beard
with an air of profound complacency--"Look at that venerable looking
old gentleman, who every Sabbath stands in his pulpit to declaim
against wickedness and fleshy lusts. Mark his libidinous eye, as he
follows that painted strumpet to her filthy den. There's hypocrisy.
Then turn your eyes toward a sister city, and mark that grey-headed,
sanctimonious editor, who every week solemnly prates of honesty,
sobriety, and their kindred virtues. 'What an excellent man he is,'
exclaim the whole tribe of fat, tea-