ied the other, as the
two stepped from the gangway that led from the deck of the steamer on to
the stone quay alongside. "Why, some of the houses further up are finer
than those of Broadway!"

"This is your native place, I suppose?" said Fritz slyly.

"Yes," answered his companion, "but I do not flatter it on that
account."

The two walked on, until presently the Rhode Islander stopped in front
of one of the smaller hotels. This looked, despite its lesser
proportions, in comparison with its larger rivals, far more respectable
and aristocratic--if such terms may be permitted to anything
appertaining to the land of so-called "equality" and "freedom," where,
according to the poetical belief, there is no aristocracy save hat of
merit and shoddy!

"Let's go in here," said the deck hand. "It is a great place for the
merchants and sea-captains, and I might be able to introduce you to some
one I know while we're having a drink."

"It's too early for that," said Fritz, feeling inclined to draw back,
remembering what his companion had confessed the night before about his
habits.

"Ah, I see," exclaimed the other, colouring up as he took the hint,
being evidently highly sensitive. "But you need not be afraid of that
now. I'm always on my good behaviour whenever I come up to Providence.
I'm really not going in here to drink now, I assure you; this is a house
of call for business people, and I want to see some one just come home
whom I know."

"All right, then," said Fritz, going into the hotel without any further
protest; when, following his companion through several long passages,
they at length entered a large room at the back.

"Jerusalem!" ejaculated the Rhode Islander almost the very instant he
had crossed the threshold of this apartment. "If that aren't the
identical coon right oppo-site, mister!"

"Where?" asked Fritz.

"There," said the other, pointing to where a rather short, broad-
shouldered man was engaged in conversation with a lithe lad, whose back
was turned but the colour of whose hair reminded Fritz of poor Eric.

"Hullo, Cap'en Brown," sang out the whilom deck hand at this juncture;
and, the broad-shouldered man looking round in the direction whence the
voice proceeded, the lad also turned his face towards Fritz.

Good heavens! It was his brother Eric, whom he and every one at home
had believed to be buried beneath the ocean with the rest of the boat's
crew that had escaped when the _Gustav