umble roof; although,' added he, his voice somewhat choked, 'she'll
never be where they'll love her more. But it's all right, and she must go;
for her parents are discovered. They _are_ of the best in the land; she is
_not_ a beggar's brat. Her brother too, is found; a miserably, thin
hollow-eyed fellow; but we'll put flesh on him. This is not all,' added
he, 'every body seems in luck to-day. Old Jacob Rhoneland has escaped
scathless out of Rust's clutches. Rust himself is on his way to the devil
post-haste, and there is nothing left to be done but to heal the breach
between Jacob and Ned. This matter settled, I hope to see Kate's cheeks
once more plump and round and rosy. I hope not only to _see_ them, but to
_kiss_ them too. I'm not too old to fancy such things, I can tell you; and
now, widow, hadn't I a right to be a little boisterous? Ah! I see that you
think me excusable; but bring me a pipe, and I'll give you all the
particulars over that. I'm a little thirsty, too; for I've already told a
long story, and have yet a longer one to tell.'

The pipe was produced; the small three-legged table was placed at his
side, to support his elbow; and Harson, having carefully lighted his pipe,
suffered the smoke to eddy about his nose, while he arranged his ideas,
and cleared his throat; and then he entered into a full and faithful
detail of the proceedings which had been taken to unmask the villany of
Rust; and the various steps and precautions which had finally led to
success.

It was a pleasant sight to see two such persons as Harson and his crony,
both in the autumn of life, but with the charities of the heart yet green
and unwithered, talking and gossipping together, with eyes bright and
beaming with mutual admiration; each fully aware of the foibles of the
other, but carefully indulgent to them; for each knew that the heart of
the other was an odd casket, encasing a gem of the noblest kind, from
which radiated love, charity, and benevolence to man. Oh! Harry, Harry!
how joyously and yet mildly you looked into that widow's dark liquid eyes;
and how gently and confidingly she returned that look! What a risk you
both ran! Had you and she been but a few years younger, had either of you
cherished a whit less tenderly the memory of those who had once been all
in all to you, and whose forms were slumbering under the green sod, that
widow might have been a wife, and Harry Harson no longer a stout, sturdy
old bachelor; for it cann