is, I'm agent for a party that shall be nameless.
I can talk about rebels as severe as
anybody, but I've got an agency, and if you want to
deal, I'm your man." I said I had no ships and
no guns to deal in. " You do well to be
prudent," he replied. " I am prudent too. I am
a zealous Federal, as you will observe; but when
you want to deal, I'm your man."

When I was next in Jeremiah's state-room,
he was ill at ease. After fidgeting a little, he
said: "That infernal Avery is after you. I
know him like a book. I have tracked him like
a bloodhound. He shakes in his shoes when I
am at his elbow. I tell you as a friend, and as
Muster's friend, he is a Yankee detective. He
is one of Seward's spies. He would buy guns
of you, and send them South, and run the
blockade, and make a tremenjus profit, but he'd
spot you all the same. He'd sell you to Seward
for fifty cents, or five hundred dollars, and go
on his way rejoicing. I hope you are too old
a bird to be caught with his chaff."

"I am only an honest traveller. I have not
a motive beyond seeing the world, learning all I
can, and profiting by my knowledge."

"I believe you. You are an honest man, and
I'm another. I believe in the Union, but I am
sorry for the South. I can't endure rascals who
believe in nothing, and worship nothing but the
almighty dollar. That fellow Avery is one of
'em, though he has a sneaking fear of hell too.
He used to be a Baptist minister. There are
two things he's afraid of; one's the devil, and
the other's me."

"Your country's is an unnatural quarrel, Mr.
Grierson, and it is the opportunity of the Evil
One. I am friendly to all. I pity North and
South."

"That's the fix / am in! I pity both sides,
though I believe in the Union, and think the
South is in the wrong; but blood is thicker than
water. They are our blood, and we are all
snarled up by marriages, and, on the whole, we
are in a tremenjus bad fix. Look o' here, cap'n.
You are a man of honour, and have a heart, and
you ain't mixed up with our quarrels, and I can
trust you. Mordant that's in your room, is a
Southerner. I used to trade at the South. I
know a Southerner when I see him, let alone
hearing him speak. Their motions ain't like
a Northerner's. We are in dead earnest about
everything, walking, talking, eating, drinking,
working. They take everything easy.
They are slow pokes. A Southerner will take
an hour to eat his dinner and drink his
wine, and think he is hurried. A Northerner
will bolt his grub in ten minutes, and wash it
down with cold water or whisky at the next
bar-room. A Southerner always says Sir, or
Madam, when he is talking to you, at the end
of every sentence, as if you was quality, or as
if he was, and he wanted to elevate you to his
level while he is doing you the honour to talk
to you. They say a heap when they mean a
great deal, and they say mighty for very, and so
on that way. Mordant is hiding. He wants to
get over to New York, and then follow his nose
South. I only hope he may do it. I have given
him good counsel. I told him to stick to his
French, unless he wanted to be spotted in no
time. He has not spoken English out of his
room yet. But what takes my breath away is
that little pink and white Englishwoman, Mrs.
Pendleton, with her two babies. You have
noticed her?"

"Certainly."

"Well, sir, have you seen me speak to her?"

"Hardly."

"And yet she is under my care. Her husband
is a lieutenant in the Southern army. He is at
Charleston, I suppose, and she expects to run
the blockade and get to him."

"Bless my soul! Why did not she go to
Nassau from Liverpool?"

"For good reasons; but that is my part of
the story. I am her husband's friend. We
were at Princeton together; both started to be
clergymen; both flashed in the pan. He is a
grand fellow. When Sumpter opened the ball,
he was in England on a visit to his wife's friends.
He was born in Charleston. When he heard
the news of Sumpter, he came home like a
streak. When he found the North would not
give in, he said, ' I am so sorry I left Mary in
London.' I was in Charleston then, trying to
wind up some business. I said, ' You ought to
be glad your wife and children are safe.' ' Mary
will die,' he said, 'unless she can come to me.
She told me so in her last letter. She is quiet
and strong, and means all she says.' 'Well,
Harry,' says I, ' I am going over the big pond.'
' Oh, bring Mary and my little ones to me,' he
cried out, and he burst into tears. And so I
promised him, and here we are."

"But how on earth are they to get to
Charleston?"

"They can hardly get there on earth," said
Jeremiah, smiling, " but I take it they can go
by water to Nassau, and then—"

" Perhaps the bald-headed man will freight a
ship to take them?"

"The scoundrel would be glad to, but my
finger is in this pie, and I will only take
medicines, and needles, pins, thread, and salt, and
such things as humanity cries aloud for. I tell
you it ain't human to deny medical aid to the
sick. I shall take my chance of serving God
and man, according to Mr. Seward's 'higher
law.' If I fail, better men than I have failed."

"Are you Mr. Seward's agent?"

"Well, yes, after a fashion I am. He trusts
me with such matters as my conscience will let
me attend to, and he knows I am to be trusted.
He believes in me, and I think I am one of the
few folks he does believe in."

"How then can you go on this mission to
Charleston?"

"Because it's a mission of mercy. I shall
serve my friend and his poor little wife and
babies, and the sick and the afflicted to the best
of my ability, and make a tremenjus profit of
doing my dooty, which after all ain't bad—"

After this I began to be tenderly civil to Mr.
Mordant. Honesty always commends itself to