upon the domino, assumes a tragic attitude, her right arm extended, and
the forefinger of her hand pointing in his face, "Ah!" she continues, in
biting accents, "it is against the perfidy of such as you. I have
struggled. Your false face, like your heart, needed a disguise. But I
have dragged it away, that you may be judged as you are. This is my
satisfaction for your betrayal. Oh that I could have deeper revenge!"
She has unmasked Judge Sleepyhorn, who stands before the anxious gaze of
an hundred night revellers, pressing eagerly to the scene of confusion.
Madame Flamingo's house, as you may judge, is much out in its dignity,
and in a general uproar. There was something touching--something that
the graver head might ponder over, in the words of this unfortunate
girl--"I have struggled!" A heedless and gold-getting world seldom
enters upon the mystery of its meaning. But it hath a meaning deep and
powerful in its appeal to society--one that might serve the good of a
commonwealth did society stoop and take it by the hand.

So sudden was the motion with which this girl snatched the mask from the
face of the Judge, (he stood as if appalled,) that, ere he had gained
his self-possession, she drew from her girdle a pearl-hilted stiletto,
and in attempting to ward off the dreadful lunge, he struck it from her
hand, and into her own bosom. The weapon fell gory to the floor--the
blood trickled down her bodice--a cry of "murder" resounded through the
hall! The administrator of justice rushed out of the door as the unhappy
girl swooned in the arms of her partner. A scene so confused and wild
that it bewilders the brain, now ensued. Madame Flamingo calls loudly
for Mr. Soloman; and as the reputation of her house is uppermost in her
thoughts, she atones for its imperiled condition by fainting in the arms
of a grave old gentleman, who was beating a hasty retreat, and whose
respectability she may compromise through this uncalled-for act.

A young man of slender form, and pale, sandy features, makes his way
through the crowd, clasps Anna affectionately in his arms, imprints a
kiss on her pallid brow, and bears her out of the hall.

By the aid of hartshorn and a few dashes of cold water, the old hostess
is pleased to come to, as we say, and set about putting her house in
order. Mr. Soloman, to the great joy of those who did not deem it
prudent to make their escape, steps in to negotiate for the peace of the
house and the restoration of