he trunk, he knew what he kept behind it,
and he knew he would take enough of it to-night to make him sleep
soundly.

No one would ever have supposed Kookoo capable of a crime. He was too
fearfully impressed with the extra-hazardous risks of dishonesty; he was
old, too, and weak, and, besides all, intensely a coward. Nevertheless,
while it was yet two or three hours before daybreak, the sleep-forsaken
little man arose, shuffled into his garments, and in his stocking-feet
sought the corridor leading to 'Sieur George's apartment. The November
night, as it often does in that region, had grown warm and clear; the
stars were sparkling like diamonds pendent in the deep blue heavens, and
at every window and lattice and cranny the broad, bright moon poured
down its glittering beams upon the hoary-headed thief, as he crept along
the mouldering galleries and down the ancient corridor that led to
'Sieur George's chamber.

'Sieur George's door, though ever so slowly opened, protested with a
loud creak. The landlord, wet with cold sweat from head to foot, and
shaking till the floor trembled, paused for several minutes, and then
entered the moon-lit apartment. The tenant, lying as if he had not
moved, was sleeping heavily. And now the poor coward trembled so, that
to kneel before the trunk, without falling, he did not know how. Twice,
thrice, he was near tumbling headlong. He became as cold as ice. But the
sleeper stirred, and the thought of losing his opportunity strung his
nerves up in an instant. He went softly down upon his knees, laid his
hands upon the lid, lifted it, and let in the intense moonlight. The
trunk was full, full, crowded down and running over full, of the tickets
of the Havana Lottery!

A little after daybreak, Kookoo from his window saw the orphan, pausing
on the corner. She stood for a moment, and then dove into the dense fog
which had floated in from the river, and disappeared. He never saw her
again.

But her Lord is taking care of her. Once only she has seen 'Sieur
George. She had been in the belvedere of the house which she now calls
home, looking down upon the outspread city. Far away southward and
westward the great river glistened in the sunset. Along its sweeping
bends the chimneys of a smoking commerce, the magazines of surplus
wealth, the gardens of the opulent, the steeples of a hundred
sanctuaries and thousands on thousands of mansions and hovels covered
the fertile birthright arpents which 'Sie