The Georgetown news., 1856-01-31

to his closet and drew forth bottle of the
material therefrom; he cut the wax from
its top, and drawing the long cork from
locum tenenS which it had held while in the
south of France, and while tilted upon the
Atlantic, he TILED glass, and presenting it
to me, filled another for himself. | refused
his offer to renew my draught, and soon af-
ter retired.
When [ awoke in the morning, the room
was full of the smoke of the lamp; and Gra-
ham had not been in bed. The wine had
disappeared from the bottle, and the lamp
was upset upon the miniature which he had
laid upon the table, and it was broken
Graham was stupefed with wine, and his
face looked feycrish and sick. The loss Of
his miniature was a source of deep regret;
and he lamented it as fearful omen For the
future.
Three months from that morning Graham
sailed for England. His education was by
no means complete; but he was the idol Of
an indulgent and wealthy father, who had
| long favored his determination Of making
the tour of Europe. If | ever parted from
friend with regret, it was from Everard
Graham. He had his faults; but maugre
! them all, | loved him. We vowed mutual
and abiding friendship, and constant cor
respondence; and as my design of visiting
England was we'll known and approved of
by my parents, l heSitated not to pledge
myself to meet him in the British metropo-
lis as soon as my minority should have ex-
pired.
Two years after, during which time l
had not heard word from my friend, was
in London. | will not attempt to describe
nv feelings as our ma jestic vessel glided up
the Thames. 1t was a beautiful day in
September, when first saw at distance
the great cloud of smoke which oyerhung
the British capitol. Oddly enough, the
weather was clear; aad the yellow sun lit
up the countless sails that were passing to
and fro with singular beauty. In short
space, found myself in Picket street, in
the neighborhood of Waterloo Bridge and
Temple Bar; anon was mingling with the
restless crowd that moved along Fleet
street to Ludgate Hill. l soon saw St.
Paul's, that mighty edifce, whose towering
dome looks down upon the riches and pov-
/ Vi " lllC anu Ll40Cl VI hCttI
two millions of immortal souls
| pass over the pleasure and the newness
of enjoyment with which | looked upon the
wonders of London, after my letters of in
PRODUCTION had been delivered, and my
check had been honored by my banker. 1t
was to me kind of epoch, when | first saw
the pave of Regent street Quadrant, and
when l walked up Great Russell street to
Drury Lane Theatre. The inquiries [ had
made among my friends for Graham, how
ever, had all proved nearly Intellectual. He
had brought Introductory letters to some OF
them, and was known as a lounger at the
New England Coffee House, previous to
his leaving London for the Continent.
[ was one day returning to my Hotel, af
ter visit to the famous Abbey Of West
minister, when the thought struck me that |
would return on the river. [ accordingly
chartered small boat near Westminster
Stairs, requesting to be "set down" at Wa
terloo Bridge. Through the dullnesS OF
my Gondolier, who seemed halEintoxica-
ted, song-singing varlet, | was taken even
past Blackfriars, and left at the foot of an
obscure lane, leading into Thames street.
The first heavy drops Of an approaching
thunder shower melted me to haste; and the
vivid flashes of lightning that ever and anon
darted athwart the gloom, were "spurs to
prick the sides of my intent" hurried on;
but the storm had already burst above me;
and in a moment of hesitation [ paused and
knocked at the low door of an obscure and
dingy dwelling, whence the only light is
sued that | had witnessed, since / left my
tuneful Arion of the Thames. 1t was open
ed by bloated fierce looking female who
in gruff voice asked me what | wanted
A loud peal of thunder drowned my reply
| pointed without; and the action seemed to
content her. She marshalled me into a
low back-room, requesting me to step light
ly as | entered. | followed her on tip-toe
and seated myself on broken bench, by the
dying embers of a Pickering fire.
The apartment presented cheerless pic
ture of poverty and desOlatiOn. One OF
two mutilated chairs stood in the centre o
the room. In one corner Of the room, OIL
a low mat, lay poor emaciated form
apparently groaning in troubled Sleep
| drew near, and as the woman re-entereC
with lamp, l was struck with astOniSh
ment. The face was pale but interesting
the eyelids were ola dark purple, and the
cheek hollow. Pressing his lips as if tC
nerve him to some imaginary conflict, he
opened his eyes full upon me, as the light
shone over his lowly pallet. Never shall
forget that look The blood rushed rapid
ly to his high forehead-it retreated agair
to his heart, and left him deadly pale. He
reached forth his hand and in faltering ac
cents pronounced my name. l looked for q
moment IN doubtful recognition it was but
for moment: he pronounced the name o
EUerard Graham. My head grew dizzy
my sight failed me, and [ was insensible.
When L recovered, my once high-souled
and honorable friend was lifeless corpse
before me. The struggle had been too