the Golden Shoemaker" himself,
the thing was done.

The next minute, the happy and grateful couple were gone, and "Cobbler"
Horn had scarcely time to recover his composure before he found himself
greeted by the agent of Messrs. Tongs and Ball, who, having been furnished
by those gentlemen with a particular description of the personal
appearance of their eccentric client, had experienced but little
difficulty in singling him out. From this gentleman "Cobbler" Horn learnt
that his ill-fated cousin had been removed from the wretched lodgings
where he was found to the best private hospital in New York, where he was
receiving every possible care. The agent had also engaged apartments for
"Cobbler" Horn himself in a first-class hotel in the neighbourhood of the
hospital. It was a great relief to "Cobbler" Horn that his conductor had
undertaken the care of his luggage, and the management of everything
connected with his debarkation. He was realizing more and more the immense
advantages conferred by wealth. On being shown into the splendid
apartments which had been engaged for him in the hotel, he shrank back as
he had done from the first-class accommodation assigned to him on board
the steam-boat. But this time he was obliged to submit. Wealth has its
penalties, as well as its advantages.

It was early in the forenoon when the vessel arrived; and, when "the
Golden Shoemaker" was duly installed in his luxurious quarters at the
hotel, the agent left him, having first promised to come back at three
o'clock, and conduct him to the bedside of his cousin.

At the appointed time the agent returned.

"Cobbler" Horn was eager to be going, and they at once set out. A few
minutes brought them to the hospital where his cousin lay. They were
immediately shown in, and "Cobbler" Horn found himself entering a bright
and airy chamber, where he presently stood beside his cousin's bed.

The sick man had been apprised of the approaching visit of his generous
relative from over the water, and he regarded "Cobbler" Horn now with a
kind of dull wonder in his hollow eyes. At the same time he held out a
hand which was wasted almost to transparency. "Cobbler" Horn took the
thin fingers in his strong grasp; and, as he looked, with a great pity, on
the sunken cheeks, the protruding mouth, the dark gleaming eyes, and the
contracted forehead with its setting of black damp hair, he thought that,
if ever he had seen the stamp of death upon a human face,