rdingly, at
about eight o'clock in the evening, he left the Vaults by means of the
secret outlet before alluded to and gaining the street, proceeded at a
rapid pace towards the Bowery. In the breast of his coat he carried a
huge Bowie knife, with which to defend himself in case any attempt
should be made to arrest him.

That very day, Frank Sydney, mindful of his promise, had succeeded in
obtaining a situation for Mrs. Archer, in the family of an old lady, an
aunt of his, who required the attendance of a young woman as a companion
and nurse, she being an invalid. In the afternoon, Mrs. Archer received
a visit from the boy, Clinton, who came to announce to her the joyful
intelligence of a good home having been secured for her; he then placed
the following brief note from Frank in her hands:--

'Mrs. Archer,--Madame: I shall this evening call upon you, to
confirm the words of my messenger. The unfortunate career
which you have followed, is now nearly ended. Extortion and
oppression shall triumph no longer. F.S.'

It was about eight o'clock in the evening when Frank knocked at the door
of the house in which Mrs. Archer resided, and he was admitted by the
mercenary landlady who figured not very creditably upon a former
occasion. She immediately recognized the young gentleman, who was
dressed in the garments of a laborer; and very civilly informing him
that the young lady was at home, requested him to walk upstairs to her
room.

Our hero assumed a disguise upon that occasion, for this reason: he did
not know but that the house was publicly regarded as a brothel; and he
therefore did not wish to hazard his reputation by being recognized
either while entering or leaving the place.

He ascended the stairs and knocked gently at the chamber, which was
immediately opened by Mrs. Archer, who pressed his hand with all the
warmth of a grateful heart, and placed a chair for him near the
fire.--Glancing around the room, Frank saw that she had made every
arrangement for her departure: bandboxes and trunks were in readiness
for removal, and all her little effects were heaped together in one
corner. She herself was dressed with considerable elegance and taste; a
close fitting dress of rich silk displayed the fine proportions of her
symmetrical form to advantage.

'I know not how to thank you, Mr. Sydney,' she said, seating
herself--'for your generous interest in my welfare; but oh! believe me,
I am grateful for