It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden death on the New York waterfront. Descending the hollow, or rather excavation,—for it was an old disused clay-pit, at the bottom of which the cottage was situated,—he speedily succeeded in arousing the ancient sibyl, and having committed Edgeworth Bess to her care, with a promise of an abundant reward in case she watched diligently over her safety, and attended to her comforts till his return,—to all which Black Mary readily agreed,—he departed with a heart lightened of half its load. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile. "Well, if you won't come, I shall help myself, and that's unsociable," pursued the speaker, evidently, from the noise he made, suiting the action to the word. He’s waiting. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. \"Just fine, John. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. “Thank God,” he exclaimed. He walked on for an hour longer, till he could scarcely drag one leg after another.
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