before you go. My friend, Mr. Stevens, has a communication to make to you
respecting Mr. Garie, which will, I fear, cause you, as it already has me,
deep distress."

"Indeed!" rejoined Mr. Bates, in a tone of surprise; "What is it? Nothing
that reflects upon his character, I hope."

"I do not know how my information will influence your conduct towards him,
for I do not know what your sentiments may be respecting such persons. I
know society in general do not receive them, and my surprise was very great
to find him here."

"I do not understand you; what do you mean?" demanded Mr. Bates, in a tone
of perplexity; "has he ever committed any crime?"

"HE IS A COLOURED MAN," answered George Stevens, briefly. Mr. Bates became
almost purple, and gasped for breath; then, after staring at his informant
for a few seconds incredulously, repeated the words "Coloured man," in a
dreamy manner, as if in doubt whether he had really heard them.

"Yes, coloured man," said George Stevens, confidently; "it grieves me to
be the medium of such disagreeable intelligence; and I assure you I only
undertook the office upon the representation of Miss Ellstowe, that you
were not aware of the fact, and would regard my communication as an act of
kindness."

"It--it _can't_ be," exclaimed Mr. Bates, with the air of a man determined
not to be convinced of a disagreeable truth; "it cannot be possible."

Hereupon George Stevens related to him what he had recently told Miss
Ellstowe respecting the parentage and position of Clarence. During the
narration, the old man became almost frantic with rage and sorrow, bursting
forth once or twice with the most violent exclamations; and when George
Stevens concluded, he rose and said, in a husky voice--

"I'll kill him, the infernal hypocrite! Oh! the impostor to come to my
house in this nefarious manner, and steal the affections of my
daughter--the devilish villain! a bastard! a contemptible black-hearted
nigger. Oh, my child--my child! it will break your heart when you know what
deep disgrace has come upon you. I'll go to him," added he, his face
flushed, and his white hair almost erect with rage; "I'll murder
him--there's not a man in the city will blame me for it," and he grasped
his cane as though he would go at once, and inflict summary vengeance upon
the offender.

"Stop, sir, don't be rash," exclaimed George Stevens; "I would not screen
this fellow from the effects of your just and very natural ind