ude. But suddenly, in passing a brilliantly lighted cafe, the
thought of Arthur crossed his mind; and, for the first time, the idea
flashed upon him, that he might have been one of those concerned in the
capture of little Blanche.

He stopped short, and was about to turn back, to endeavor to trace the
fugitives, when he remembered that Arthur had as yet but just commenced
the downward path, and that he could not already have become so fallen
as to commit so base an act as that which he had just witnessed. It had
been too dark to recognize faces, and his own excitement had prevented
him from thinking to notice the voices; and the more he thought of it,
the more convinced was he that Arthur was not among them. He had sat
with Guly by the fire until the midnight hour had passed, waiting for
Arthur's return; but when the fire died out, and the lamp faded, and he
still was absent, he persuaded Guly to go to bed, promising that he
would seek his brother before he slept. Guly would fain have accompanied
him, but Wilkins induced him to remain, not wishing to familiarize the
pure heart of his boy-friend with the scenes in which he felt convinced
he must look for the wanderer.

Wilkins faithfully kept his word, and left no place unsearched wherein
he thought it possible to find Arthur. He believed he would find him in
some one of the popular places of resort, standing ever open, with their
false glitter and dangerous splendor, to lure their victims to
destruction. But 'the wee small hour ayont the twal' found him still
searching, and still unsuccessful.

Disappointed, with lingering steps he turned toward the store, but, as
he stepped upon the sill, a slender figure darted from the alley-way,
and laid a chill and trembling hand upon his arm.

"Bernard!"

"Heavens, Minny! what brings you here?"

"Hopes and fears, and memories, and sorrows, which _will not_ die."

"Pshaw, girl! harping on the old string yet! What of your mistress?"

"She is well, and by this time happy in her dreams."

"And did she send you to me? how came you here?"

"I came here with the pass, which gives any negro a right to the
highway; and though I forged it, it served me well."

Minny stepped back into the shadow of the archway, and Wilkins, obeying
the convulsive grasp of that delicate hand, followed her.

"Bernard," said she, dropping her voice almost into a whisper, which
echoed deep and clear through the dark and narrow alley, "I have come to