rs and sundry cut glass accompaniments, are
spread in a confused mass on the floor. Suddenly Mr. Keepum extinguishes
the lights. This is the signal for a scene of uproar and confusion we
leave the reader to picture in his imagination. The cry of "murder" is
followed quickly by the cry of "watch, watch!" and when the guardmen
appear, which they are not long in doing, it is seen that the very
chivalric gentlemen have taken themselves off--left, as a prey for the
guard, only Maria and three frail females.

Cries, entreaties, and explanations, are all useless with such men as
our guard is composed of. Her clothes are torn, and she is found rioting
in disreputable company. The sergeant of the guard says, "Being thus
disagreeably caught, she must abide the penalty. It may teach you how to
model your morals," he adds; and straightway, at midnight, she is
dragged to the guard-house, and in spite of her entreaties, locked up in
a cell with the outcast women. "Will you not hear me? will you not allow
an innocent woman to speak in her own behalf? Do, I beg, I beseech, I
implore you--listen but for a minute--render me justice, and save me
from this last step of shame and disgrace," she appeals to the sergeant,
as the cell door closes upon her.

Mr. Sergeant Stubble, for such is his name, shakes his head in doubt.
"Always just so," he says, with a shrug of the shoulders: "every one's
innocent what comes here 'specially women of your sort. The worst
rioters 'come the greatest sentimentalists, and repents most when they
gets locked up--does! You'll find it a righteous place for reflection,
in there." Mr. Sergeant Stubble shuts the door, and smothers her cries.

CHAPTER XLVI.

GAINING STRENGTH FROM PERSECUTION.

You know it is Bulwer who says, and says truly: "There is in calumny a
rank poison that, even when the character throws off the slander, the
heart remains diseased beneath the effect." The force of this on Maria's
thoughts and feelings, surrounded as she was by the vile influences of a
Charleston cell, came with strange effect as she contemplated her
friendless condition. There is one witness who can bear testimony to her
innocence, and in Him she still puts her trust. But the charitable have
closed their ears to her; and the outside world is too busy to listen to
her story. Those words of the poor woman who said, "You are still richer
than me," again ring their sweet music in her ear, and give strength to
her wear