or
when the answer to the telegram arrived, and had the opportunity of
reading it all except the signature. Before the message had been
delivered to the attorney in New York, the answer came from Malcolm at
New Orleans, printed upon a long strip of paper as follows:

"NEW ORLEANS, March --, 1856.

"I never disappoint my bail. My thoughts on awful subjects
roll, damnation and the dead, what horrors seize the guilty
soul upon a dying bed. Lingering about these mortal shores
she makes a long delay, till like a flood with rapid force,
death sweeps the wretch away. Good for Doctor Watts. I have
three weeks yet to spare."

How it was signed I am not aware. The envelope was marked "paid
$32.75."

On the afternoon previous to the sitting of the court at which Malcolm
was under bail to appear, he unexpectedly presented himself at Mr.
Burchard's office. The conflicting emotions in Mr. Burchard's breast
upon beholding him can well be imagined. Indignation for the
imposition and forgery was most apparent. Vengeance was secondary,
tempered by the fact that he had made his appearance, although not
yet safe in jail. His soul burst forth in a holy horror of a man
apparently incapable of entertaining a moral sentiment, and so brazen
as not to appreciate his guilt. His presence so exasperated Mr.
Burchard that he rushed toward the door without any definite intention
but to be rid of his visitor. Malcolm calmly placed his back against
the closed door and said very coolly: "All this indignation is well
enough before a jury, Mr. Burchard, and I read in your countenance
what is passing in your mind, but it is wise to take men as they are
and the world as it is, and not as it should be. I meet you to-day on
equal terms. You claim something of me, and I of you. If you are a man
of honor, fulfil your contract. If you are a sneak, do as I should
have done had I forfeited my bail. I have shown the estimate I put
upon my duty by appearing to discharge you as my bail in the face of
the indignity I have put upon you, and knowing full well what I was to
encounter. Show half my pluck and it will serve you well. I am not yet
your prisoner, and by the Eternal! I will not be till to-morrow, when
I shall be content with that position. On your peril answer me. Will
you fulfil your agreement? Will you be a man or a knave?"

Mr. Burchard answered not, but saw the desperate nature of the man
with w