uggage--and let us go."

"I am not a pawnbroker," said the inflexible lady. "You must either pay
your lawful debt to me in honest money, or--"

She paused and looked at Cosway. Her fat face brightened--she smiled
graciously for the first time.

Cosway stared at her in unconcealed perplexity. He helplessly repeated
her last words. "We must either pay the bill," he said, "or what?"

"Or," answered Mrs. Pounce, "one of you must marry ME."

Was she joking? Was she intoxicated? Was she out of her senses? Neither
of the three; she was in perfect possession of herself; her explanation
was a model of lucid and convincing arrangement of facts.

"My position here has its drawbacks," she began. "I am a lone widow;
I am known to have an excellent business, and to have saved money. The
result is that I am pestered to death by a set of needy vagabonds
who want to marry me. In this position, I am exposed to slanders and
insults. Even if I didn't know that the men were after my money, there
is not one of them whom I would venture to marry. He might turn out a
tyrant and beat me; or a drunkard, and disgrace me; or a betting man,
and ruin me. What I want, you see, for my own peace and protection, is
to be able to declare myself married, and to produce the proof in the
shape of a certificate. A born gentleman, with a character to lose, and
so much younger in years than myself that he wouldn't think of
living with me--there is the sort of husband who suits my book! I'm a
reasonable woman, gentlemen. I would undertake to part with my husband
at the church door--never to attempt to see him or write to him
afterward--and only to show my certificate when necessary, without
giving any explanations. Your secret would be quite safe in my keeping.
I don't care a straw for either of you, so long as you answer my
purpose. What do you say to paying my bill (one or the other of you) in
this way? I am ready dressed for the altar; and the clergyman has notice
at the church. My preference is for Mr. Cosway," proceeded this terrible
woman with the cruelest irony, "because he has been so particular in
his attentions toward me. The license (which I provided on the chance
a fortnight since) is made out in his name. Such is my weakness for Mr.
Cosway. But that don't matter if Mr. Stone would like to take his place.
He can hail by his friend's name. Oh, yes, he can! I have consulted my
lawyer. So long as the bride and bridegroom agree to it, they may be