of the bar-room, but out into the hall, and through the door
leading upon the porch that ran along in front of the house. Soon
after the bar was closed, and a dead silence reigned throughout
the house. I saw no more of Slade that night. Early in the
morning, I left Cedarville; the landlord looked very sober when he
bade me good-bye through the stage-door, and wished me a pleasant
journey.





NIGHT THE FIFTH.

SOME OF THE CONSEQUENCES OF TAVERN-KEEPING.


Nearly five years glided away before business again called me to
Cedarville. I knew little of what passed there in the interval,
except that Simon Slade had actually been indicted for
manslaughter, in causing the death of Morgan's child. He did not
stand a trial, however, Judge Lyman having used his influence,
successfully, in getting the indictment quashed. The judge, some
people said, interested himself in Slade more than was just
seemly--especially, as he had, on several occasions, in the
discharge of his official duties, displayed what seemed an over-
righteous indignation against individuals arraigned for petty
offences. The impression made upon me by Judge Lyman had not been
favorable. He seemed a cold, selfish, scheming man of the world.
That he was an unscrupulous politician, was plain to me, in a