er Peer or Commoner, Annesley Beecher "stood to win" in making
Lizzy his wife. "Scratch the pedigree, and she 'll be a stunning
peeress; and if the suit goes against us, show me the girl like her to
meet the world!" This was the sum of the reflections that cost him a
whole morning's intellectual labor, and more of actual mental fatigue
than befalls a great parliamentary leader after a stormy debate.

That Davis had no intention to intimidate him was clearly shown by his
destroying the acceptances: had he wished to lean on coercion, here was
the means. Take your choice between matrimony and a felony, was a short
and easy piece of argumentation, such as would well have suited Grog's
summary notions; and yet he had, of his own accord, freely and forever
relinquished this vantage ground. Beecher was now free. For the first
time for many a long year of life he arose from his bed without a fear
of the law and its emissaries. The horrible nightmare that had scared
him so often, dashing the wildest moments of dissipation with sudden
fear, deepening the depths of despondency with greater gloom, had all
fled, and he awoke to feel that there was no terror in a "Beak's" eye,
nothing to daunt him in the shrewd glances of a detective. They who have
lived years long of insecurity, tortured by the incessant sense of an
impending peril, to befall them to-day, tomorrow, or next day, become
at length so imbued with fear that when the hour of their emancipation
arrives, they are not able for a considerable time to assure themselves
of their safety. The captive dreams of his chains through many a night
after he has gained his liberty; the shipwrecked sailor can never forget
the raft and the lone ocean on which he tossed; nor was it altogether
easy for Beecher to convince himself that he could walk the world with
his head high, and bid defiance to Crown prosecutors and juries!

"I 'm out of _your_ debt, Master Grog," said he, with a pleasant laugh
to himself; "catch me if you can running up another score in _your_
books. Wait till you see me slipping my neck into a noose held by _your_
fingers. You made me feel the curb pretty sharp for many a long day, and
might still, if you had n't taken off the bridle with your own hands;
but I 'm free now, and won't I show you a fair pair of heels! Who could
blame me, I 'd like to know? When a fellow gets out of jail, does he
take lodgings next door to the prison? _I_ never asked him to burn those
bills