human nature, the hatred with
which the wicked and abandoned regard the innocent and pure. Fanny had
never in the slightest degree injured the wretch who was plotting her
ruin;--and Sow Nance had no other reason for hating her, than because
she herself was a guilty and polluted being, while Fanny she knew to be
without stain or blemish.

In about a quarter of an hour they reached a handsome brick house in
South street.

"This is the place," said Sow Nance, as she rang the door bell; the
summons was immediately answered by an old negro woman, who, exchanging
a significant look with Nance, admitted them, and ushered them into a
large parlor. The apartment was handsomely furnished, the walls adorned
with many pictures, and the floor covered with a very rich carpet.

"Sit down, young ladies, and I will call Mr. Tickels down," said the old
negro woman, as she left the room; in a few moments, a gentleman
entered, and regarded Fanny with a gaze so piercing, that the poor girl
was covered with confusion.

The gentleman was, to all appearances, full sixty years of age; he was a
large, portly man, with very gray hair and a very red face: he was
attired in a dressing-gown and slippers, and wore a magnificent diamond
pin in his shirt frill.

This man was one of those wealthy beasts whose lusts run riot on the
innocence of young females--whose crimes outnumbered the gray hairs upon
his head, and whose riches were devoted to no other purpose than the
procurement of victims for his appetite, and the gratification of his
abominable passions.

A vague, strange fear stole over Fanny, while this gentleman thus viewed
her so closely--a fear which she could not define, yet which rendered
her excessively uneasy. Apparently the survey was satisfactory to the
gentleman--for he smiled, and in doing so displayed two rows of teeth
not unlike the fangs of a wolf. Then he beckoned Sow Nance to follow him
from the room, and held a whispered conversation with her in the
passage.

"Who is she, Nance?" asked the gentleman.

"Not _one of us_," was the reply, "she sells fruit, and is poor, but her
folks are respectable;--you must pay me well for bringing her here, for
she's handsome."

"True; but are you sure she has never--"

"_Sure!_" replied Nance, almost fiercely--"I'll take my oath on it;
hasn't she always kept away from us, and ain't all the girls hating her
like h----l, 'cause she's virtuous? Don't you suppose _I_ know?"

"Good," s