'I don't know that, but I shall not come very soon. After a while I shall go across the ocean, and you will grow up to be a young woman. So I must say a long good-by now to my little patient.'
Sarah was twelve, Egerton scarcely twenty. For the instant, young as she was, there was actually established between them a sentimental relation. They stood a moment looking at each other.
'Good-by,' said Egerton, taking her hand. 'I think I must have this for a keepsake.' It was a straggling curl, detached from its companions, which the student laid hold of. Sarah said not one word, but took a neat little morocco 'housewife' from her pocket, produced a small pair of scissors, and clipped the curl quickly, leaving it in Egerton's hand.
'You won't forget me,' he said.
'No.'
In an instant more she was bounding over the green grass, while the other walked slowly into the house. In a few minutes he was off. I do not think this scene produced any impression on Sarah Burns beyond the passing moment; but to Egerton, who was just of an age to cherish such an incident, it furnished material for a romantic idea, which he nourished until it came to be a part of his life plans. Whatever was the reason which actuated him, it is a fact that he wrote Mr. Burns, not often, to be sure, but quite regularly. After two or three years he went abroad, still keeping up his correspondence. Mr. Burns, for some reason we will not conjecture, was not in the habit of speaking to his daughter about Egerton. Possibly he did not wish her to remember him as a grown-up man while she was still a little girl. Possibly, he desired, should they ever meet, that their acquaintance might commence afresh. At any rate, Sarah was left quite to forget the existence of the young fellow who watched by her so faithfully; or if by some chance some recollection of him, as connected with that dreadful season, came into her mind, it was purely evanescent and without consequence. Mr. Burns, however, always cherished certain hopes. The reader will recollect his sadness of heart when he discovered how matters stood between Sarah and Hiram Meeker. This was owing principally to his honest aversion to Hiram; but a disappointment lurked at the bottom. It was only the week before the scene at the preparatory lecture that he had received a letter from Egerton, written on American soil, advising him of his return from Europe in a vessel just arrived from Marseilles. Mr. Burns answered it immediately, inviting him to come at once and make him a visit; but he breathed not a word of this to Sarah.
Affairs between her and Hiram were brought to a crisis much faster than Mr. Burns could have anticipated. In short, Dr. Egerton arrived at the most auspicious moment possible. But I shall not be precipitate. On the contrary, I shall leave the lovers, if lovers they are to be, to pursue their destiny in the only true way, namely, through a tantalizing maze of hopes and fears and doubts and charming hesitations and anxieties to a denouement, while I return to the proper subject of this narrative—Hiram Meeker.
CHAPTER V.
Hill has opened a wholesale liquor store on his own account! Where did Hill raise the money to start in business—a poor devil who could never get eighteen pence ahead in the world? It does not appear. For one, I will say that Hiram Meeker did not furnish it. He not only belongs to the temperance society, but he believes all traffic in the 'deadly poison' to be a sin. Still where did Hill get the money or the credit to start a wholesale liquor concern? More than this, Hill is doing a pretty large business. Singular to say, he drinks less and swears less than he did. He is more respectable apparently. He has a very fine store in Water street. He does not deal in adulterated liquors. He sells his articles, if the customer desires it, 'in bond;' that is, from under the key of the custom house, which of course insures their purity. By a singular coincidence, Hill's store is adjoining a 'U. S. Bonded Warehouse.' Hill's goods, for convenience' sake, are sent to that particular warehouse—frequently. The liquors are stored in the basement. This basement is not supposed to communicate with the basement of Hill's store. Certainly not. Yet Hill, solus, entirely and absolutely solus, spends many evenings in the basement of his store. Hill is a large purchaser of pure spirits. Pure spirits are worth thirty-one cents a gallon, and brandy of right brand is worth two or three dollars a gallon. One gallon of pure spirits mixed with two gallons of brandy cannot be detected by ninety-nine persons of a hundred. Some say it is equally difficult to detect a half-and-half mixture. Still Hill sells his brandy in bond. I repeat, Hiram Meeker does not furnish Hill the money. It is true, their intimacy still continues. Further, Hill has good references—none other than H. Bennett & Co. Strange as it may seem, H. Bennett himself has been known to put his name on Hill's paper. Yet I am told he does not even know Hill by sight! Hill is making money, though—is making it fast. Hiram is still in the house of Hendly, Layton & Gibb, but this has not prevented him from making, with permission of the firm, several ventures on his own account. These ventures always turn out well. It was not long since he shipped a schooner load of potatoes to New Orleans on information derived from the master of a vessel which had made a remarkably rapid passage, and who reported to him, and to him only. He more than doubled his money on this venture.
In Dr. Chellis's church, Hiram has made respectable progress. He has permitted himself to break over the strict rule first adopted as to his social life. He goes a little into society—the very best society which that congregation furnishes. Report says he is engaged to Miss Tenant. She is the only child of Amos Tenant, of the firm of Allwise, Tenant & Co. This firm is reputed to be worth over a million of dollars. Miss Tenant—Miss Emma Tenant—is the young lady who, from the first, took such an interest in Hiram at the Sunday school. She is an excellent girl. She is very pretty, too, and, I am sorry to say, she seems to have fallen in love—really and positively in love with Hiram. He, the calculating wretch, has canvassed the whole matter, has made careful investigations of the condition of the house of Allwise, Tenant & Co., and has satisfied himself that it is firm as a rock, and that Mr. Tenant is no doubt worth the pretty sum of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, or such a matter.