e current, freighted deep
with many precious stores of old-time remembrance; Mrs. Carrack sitting
alone as an iceberg in the very midst of the waters, melting not once,
nor contributing a drop or trickle to the friendly flow. And when
bed-time came again, how clearly was it shown, that there is nothing
certain in this changeful world. By some sudden and unforeseen
interruption, nations lose power, communities are shattered, households
well-constructed fall in pieces at a breath.

Her sudden appearance in their midst, compelled another consultation to
be taken as to the disposal of the great Mrs. Carrack for the night. It
would never answer to put that grand person in any secondary lodging; so
all the old arrangements were of necessity broken up; the best bed-room
allotted to her; and that her gentle nerves might not be afflicted, the
old clock, which adjoined her sleeping-chamber, and which had occupied
his corner and told the time for the Peabodys for better than a hundred
years from the same spot, was instantly silenced, as impertinent. The
Captain's high-actioned white horse, which had enjoyed the privilege of
roaming unmolested about the house, was led away like an unhappy
convict, and stabled in the barn; and to complete the arrangements, the
two servants in livery were put on guard near her window, to drive off
the geese, turkeys, and other talkative birds of the night, that she
might sleep without the slightest disturbance from that noisy old
creature, Nature.

Mr. Tiffany Carrack, while these delicate preparations were in progress,
was evidently agitated with some extraordinary design, in which Miriam
Haven was bearing a part; for, although he did not address a word to
that young maiden, he was as busy as his imitation of the antiquity of
Baden-Baden would allow him, ogling, grimacing, and plucking his tawny
beard at her every minute in the most astonishing manner, closely
watched by Mopsey, the Captain, and old Sylvester, who strongly
suspected the young man of being affected in his wits.

It was very clear that it was this same Mr. Tiffany Carrack who had
entered in at the door of the sleeping chamber assigned to that
gentleman, but who would have ventured to assert that the figure, which,
somewhere about the middle of the night, emerged from the window of the
chamber in question, in yellow slippers, red silk cloak trimmed with
gold, fez cap, and white muslin turban, and, with folded arms, began
pacing up a