and licensed to
nourish the worst and most brutal appetites and instincts of human
natures, at the sacrifice of all their highest and holiest tendencies.
The throng of tipplers and drunkards was swarming through its hopeless
door, to gulp the fiery liquor whose fumes give all shames, vices,
miseries, and crimes, a lawless strength and life, and change the man
into the pig or tiger. Murder was done, or nearly done, within those
walls last night. Within those walls no good was ever done; but, daily,
unmitigated evil, whose results were reaching on to torture unborn
generations. He had consented to it all! He could not falter, or
equivocate, or evade, or excuse. His dead friend's words rang in his
conscience like the trump of the judgment angel. He was conquered.

Slowly, the resolve to instantly go in up-rose within him, and with it a
change came upon his spirit, and the natural world, sadder than before,
but sweeter, seemed to come back to him. A great feeling of relief
flowed upon his mind. Pale and trembling still, he crossed the street
with a quick, unsteady step, entered a yard at the side of the house,
and, brushing by a host of white, rattling spectres of frozen clothes,
which dangled from lines in the inclosure, mounted some wooden steps,
and rang the bell. In a minute he heard footsteps within, and saw the
gleam of a lamp. His heart palpitated violently as he heard the lock
turning, lest the answerer of his summons might be his tenant. The door
opened, and, to his relief, he stood before a rather decent-looking
Irishman, bending forward in his stocking feet, with one boot and a lamp
in his hand. The man stared at him from a wild head of tumbled red hair,
with a half smile round his loose open mouth, and said, "Begorra!" This
was a second floor tenant.

Dr. Renton was relieved at the sight of him; but he rather failed in an
attempt at his rent-day suavity of manner, when he said:

"Good evening, Mr. Flanagan. Do you think I can see Mrs. Miller
to-night?"

"She's up _there_, docther, anyway." Mr. Flanagan made a sudden start
for the stairs, with the boot and lamp at arm's length before him, and
stopped as suddenly. "Yull go up?--or wud she come down to ye?" There
was as much anxious indecision in Mr. Flanagan's general aspect, pending
the reply, as if he had to answer the question himself.

"I'll go up, Mr. Flanagan," returned Dr. Renton, stepping in, after a
pause, and shutting the door. "But I'm afraid she's