carpet, contemplating his own importance, for he has just been made a
Major of Militia, and we have a rare love for the feather. Now he pauses
at a window and looks impatiently out, then frisks his fingers through
his crispy hair and resumes his pacing. He expects some one, whose
coming he awaits with evident anxiety. "The time is already up," he
says, drawing his watch from his pocket. The door-bell rings just then,
his countenance brightens, and a servant ushers Mr. Snivel in. "The time
is already up, my good fellow," says Keepum, extending his hand
familiarly,--Mr. Snivel saying, "I've so many demands on my time, you
know. We're in good time, you know. Must bring the thing to a head
to-night." A short conversation carried on in whispers, and they sally
out, and soon disappear down Broad street.

Just rounding the frowning walls of fort Sumter, a fort the restless
people never had any particular love for, is a big red light of the
steamer cutting through the sea like a monster of smoke and flame, on
her way up the harbor. Another hour, and she will be safely moored at
her landing. Tom stands on the upper deck, looking intently towards the
city, his anxiety increasing as the ship approaches the end of her
voyage, and his eager eye catching each familiar object only to remind
him more forceably of the time when he seemed on the downward road of
life. Hope had already begun to dispel his fears, and the belief that
what the man had told him was founded only in slander, became stronger
the more he pondered over it.

St. Michael's clock has just struck ten, and the mounted guard are
distributing into their different beats. Maria, contemplating what may
come to-morrow, sits at the window of her lonely chamber like one whom
the world had forgotten. The dull vibrating sound of the clock still
murmurs on the air as she is startled from her reverie by the sound of
voices under the window. She feels her very soul desponding. It does
indeed seem as if that moment has come when nature in her last struggle
with hope must yield up the treasure of woman's life, and sink into a
life of remorse and shame. The talking becomes more distinct; then there
is a pause, succeeded by Keepum and Snivel silently entering her room,
the one drawing a chair by her side, the other taking a seat near the
door. "Come as friends, you know," says Keepum, exchanging glances with
Snivel, then fixing his eyes wickedly on the woman. "Don't seem to enjoy
ou