to zealously shun such, as they
would a viper in their way. They listened and promised; and when the
expected day of departure arrived, bade her adieu in the midst of her
tears, and prayers, and blessings. Thus was the widow left utterly
alone; yet in her faith she felt not forsaken, knowing that the Father
of the fatherless was with her in her woe.

CHAPTER III.

_Number -- Chartres-Street._

With the first ray of the morning light, Gulian was awake. Without
disturbing his brother, he rose, dressed himself, and took a survey of
his chamber by daylight. It was a large, gloomy-looking room, unceiled
and unpainted, and the rough beams and rafters looked like the ponderous
ribs of some antediluvian monster, which might crumble in at any time,
and bury all beneath them. The windows were large, but dingy and
begrimed with the unmoved dust of years; and spiders' webs hung in
profuse festoons from the dirty sashes. A quantity of old barrels,
boards, wine casks, and other lumber, were carelessly thrown in one
corner, and the door which opened upon the staircase was covered with
big-lettered advertisements, in such diversified type that it seemed as
if the old door was "making faces" all the time, to improve its Punch
and Judyish appearance. The windows looked down into the courtyards of
adjoining dwellings, which were built up so high that no view was
afforded beyond. As Guly looked down now, he saw the servants hurrying
about with their turbaned heads and ebony faces, busied with
preparations for the morning meal; laughing and joking as they passed
one another, apparently as happy in these narrow gloomy courts as though
they were the possessors of the proud mansions adjoining.

Such was the view from two of the windows of the room. There was another
one covered partially by a tattered and dusty painted shade, at the
southern extremity of the apartment, but Guly did not approach it, not
caring to look down upon what he thought must be a third edition of
kitchen scenery.

Opposite the bed was a pile of empty dry goods boxes; and one or two
pieces of furniture of the same description were placed about the room,
which, with the addition of one store stool, minus a bottom, served for
seats.

The bedstead was of common stained wood, furnished with a tester and
flimsy mosquito bar, through the grim and smoky folds of which were
visible sheets of unbleached factory muslin, an emaciated mattress, and
a pair of lean pil