_The Rescue._
"By the nose of Napoleon!" cried the worthy Corporal, clasping Fanny in
his arms,--"this is fortunate. Attacked the enemy in the rear--drove him
from his position,--completely routed him, and left him wounded on the
field; and you, my dear child, are the spoils of war!"
Mr. Tickels arose with difficulty from his prostrate position, rubbing
his forehead, which was decorated with a token of the Corporal's vigor,
in the shape of a huge bump not included in the science of phrenology.
Turning fiercely to the latter gentleman, and quivering with rage, he
demanded--
"Death and fury, sir! how dare you intrude into this room,--into this
house? Who are you, and what in the devil's name brings you here? Speak,
you villain, or--"
"Hold!" cried the Corporal, his face crimsoning with anger, for he was a
choleric little old gentleman, was the Corporal, and as quick to become
enraged as to do a good action; "hold! No man shall call me villain with
impunity; I shot two rascally Dons at Madrid for the same word, and by
God, sir, if _you_ repeat it, I'll cane you within an inch of your
life!"
Mr. Tickels was as great a coward as a scoundrel; and though he was a
much more powerful man than the Corporal, he deemed it prudent not to
enrage the fierce little old gentleman more than necessary. He therefore
adopted a milder tone, and asked,--
"Well, sir, what is your business here?"
"To convey this poor child to her home and friends," replied the
Corporal, sternly. "It matters not how I ascertained her whereabouts;
'tis enough to know that I arrived here in time to rescue her from your
brutality. You shall pay dearly for this outrage, damn you!" added the
Corporal, again getting into a passion, and turning very red in the
face. "But come, my child, let us leave the den of this old hyena, and
go to your poor grandfather and little Charley."
Mr. Tickels closed the door, and placed his back against it with a
determined air.
"You are mistaken, sir," said he, calmly,--"if you suppose that you can
thus force yourself into my house, and into my private apartments, and
without explanation kidnap or carry off a young person whose presence
here is no affair of yours. Do you know me, sir? I am the Honorable
Timothy Tickels, ex-member of Congress, men are not in the habit of
questioning my motives or interfering with my actions. I am rich, and my
influence is unbounded, and, were I so disposed, I could have you
severely punished for the assault which you have committed on me. Your
dress and appearance indicate poverty, although your language evinces
that you have enjoyed more elevated fortunes; I am disposed to be not
only merciful, but generous. Come, sir--leave this young person with me,
unmolested; depart from this house quietly, and say nothing about what
you have seen, and here is a fifty dollar bill for you. When you need
more, come to me, and you shall have it."
The Honorable Mr. Tickels drew from his well-filled wallet a bank-note
for the amount named, and handed it to the Corporal, who regarded it
with a curious smile, and twirled it in his fingers. His smile may have
been one of gratification at receiving the money--but it looked very
much like a sneer of contempt for the donor and his bribe.
"Now is it not strange," quoth the Corporal, soliloquizing,--"that this
dirty little bit of paper--its intrinsic value not one cent, its
representative value fifty dollars,--is it not strange, I say, that this
flimsy trifle, that an instant's application to the sickly flame of a
penny candle would destroy, can procure food for the starving, clothing
for the naked, shelter for the homeless? Great is thy power,
money!--thou art the key to many of earth's pleasures,--the magic wand,
which can summon a host of delights to gild the existence of thy
votaries; thou cans't buy roses to strew life's rugged pathway--but thou
cans't not, O great deity at whose shrine all men kneel, thou cans't not
cleanse the polluted soul, still the troubled conscience, or dim the
pure surface of unsullied honor. Nor cans't thou purchase _me_, thou
sordid dross. Guns and grappling-irons!" abruptly added the Corporal,
abandoning his philosophical strain, and getting into a towering
passion,--"would you bribe me to desert my post as a guardian of
innocence, and turn traitor to every principle of honor in my
heart?--Bah!" and crumpling the bill in his hand, he threw it into the
face of the Honorable Mr. Tickels, much to that individual's amazement.
"What do you mean, sir?" he demanded, "do you scorn my gift?"
"Yes!" thundered the little Corporal, "you and your gift may go to the
devil together; and hark'ee, sir, perhaps 'tis well that you should know
who _I_ am, as you have so formally introduced yourself to me; I am--"
The remainder of the sentence was whispered in the ear of his listener,
but the effect was magical. The Honorable Mr. Tickels started, and
rapidly surveyed the person and countenance of the Corporal; then he
reddened with confusion, and began to murmur a broken apology for his
conduct, in which he was interrupted rather abruptly.
"Not a word, sir, not a word," said the little old gentleman, "all your
apologies cannot remove from my mind the impression created by your
treatment of this poor child; and, sir," (here the Corporal again lost
his temper) "you cannot destroy my conviction that you are the d----dest
scoundrel that ever went unhung! Consider yourself fortunate if you are
not held legally responsible for your forcible detention of the young
girl in your house, and for your attempted outrage on her person,--damn
you! Come, my child, this gentleman will no longer oppose our exit from
his mansion."
The Corporal was right; the Honorable Mr. Tickels offered not the
slightest objection to their departure, but on the contrary ushered them
down stairs with great politeness, and held open the street door for
them to pass out.
When Fanny found herself once more in the open street, out of the power
of her persecutor, and on the way to her home and friends, her gratitude
to her deliverer knew no bounds; she thanked the good Corporal a
thousand times, and spoke of the approaching meeting with her
grandfather and brother with rapture. Soon they reached their place of
destination; once more the young girl stood in the humble apartment
wherein all her affections were centered;--once more her aged
grandfather clasped her in his arms, and again did she receive the fond
kiss of fraternal love from the lips of her brother.
As soon as they had left the residence of the Honorable Mr. Tickels, in
South street, the gentleman locked himself up in his study, threw
himself into a chair, and actually began tearing his hair with rage and
vexation.
"Hell and furies!" cried he--"to be thus fooled and baffled at the very
moment when my object was about to be accomplished--to have that
luscious morsel snatched from my grasp, when I was just about to taste
its sweets. The thought is madness! And, in the name of wonder, how came
HE to know that she was here, and why does _he_ interest himself in her
at all? I dare not trifle with _him_! Were some poor, poverty-stricken
devil to constitute himself her champion, I might crush him at once; but
_he_ is above my reach. No matter; she shall yet be mine--I swear it, by
all the powers of hell! I care not whether by open violence, or secret
abduction, or subtle stratagem; I shall gain possession of her person,
and once in my power, not all the angels in heaven, or men on earth, or
fiends in hell, shall tear her from my grasp.--Ah, by Beelzebub, well
tho't of!--I know the mistress of a house of prostitution (of which
house I am the _owner_,) beneath whose den, as she has often told me,
there is a secret cellar, which she has had privately constructed, and
to which there is no access except through a panel in her chamber--which
panel and the method of opening it, are known only to her, and a few
persons in whom she can place implicit confidence.--This brothel-keeper
told me, too, that she had the cellar made as a safe depository for
young females who had been abducted from their homes,--a place of
security from the search of friends, and the police. In that
subterranean retreat, (which she informed me, is luxuriantly furnished,
although the light of day never penetrates there,) these stolen girls
are compelled to receive the visits of their lovers; and there, amid the
gloom and silence of that underground prison they are initiated in all
the mysteries of prostitution. By heaven 'tis the very place for my
little fruit girl; she shall be abducted and conveyed there--and once
safely lodged in these secret "Chambers of Love," HE who spoiled by
sport to-day, shall in vain search for her. Let him come, bringing with
him the myrmidons of the law; and let them search my house--then let
them, if they choose, go to the brothel, beneath the foundation of which
the girl is hidden, and search _that_ house, too,--ha, ha, ha! They will
search for her in vain. But _how_ to abduct her--there's the rub! Tush!
when did my ingenuity ever fail me, when appetite was to be fed or
revenge gratified? Courage, Timothy Tickels, courage! Thy star, though
dim at present, shall soon be in the ascendant!"
Such were the reflections of the old libertine, as he sat in his study
after the departure of the Corporal and Fanny; and he was so delighted
at the thought of a safe asylum for the latter, that, with restored good
humor he applied himself to the discussion of a bottle of wine, and
then, stretching himself comfortably on a sofa, fell asleep and dreamed
of the subterranean "Chamber of Love," and the little fruit girl.