Anna Bonard interrupts by saying, peremptorily, she has nothing to tell one so guilty. To be thus rebuked by an abandoned woman, notwithstanding she might be her own child, wounded her feelings deeply. It was like poison drying up her very blood. Tormented with the thought of her error, (for she evidently labored under the smart of an error in early life,) her very existence now seemed a burden to her. Gloomy and motionless she stood, as if hesitating how best to make her escape. “Woman! I will not betray your coming here. But you cannot give me back my virtue; you cannot restore me untainted to the world-the world never forgives a fallen woman. Her own sex will be first to lacerate her heart with her shame.” These words were spoken with such biting sarcasm, that the Judge, whose nap the loudness of Anna’s voice had disturbed, protruded his flushed face and snowy locks from out the curtains of the alcove. “The gay Madame Montford, as I am a Christian,” he exclaims in the eagerness of the moment, and the strange figure vanishes out of the door. “A fashionable, but very mysterious sort of person,” pursues the Judge, confusedly. “Ah! ha,—her case, like many others, is the want of a clear conscience. Snivel has it in hand. A great knave, but a capital lawyer, that Snivel—” The Judge is interrupted in his remarks by the entrance of Mr. Snivel, who, with hectic face, and flushed eyes, comes rushing into the chamber. “Hollo!—old boy, there’s a high bid on your head to-night. Ready to do you a bit of a good turn, you see.” Mr. Snivel runs his fingers through his hair, and works his shoulders with an air of exultation. “If,” he continues, “that weak-minded fellow-that Mullholland we have shown some respect to, hasn’t got a pistol! He’s been furbishing it up while in the parlor, and swears he will seriously damage you with it. Blasted assurance, those Northerners have. Won’t fight, can’t make ’em gentlemen; and if you knock ’em down they don’t understand enough of chivalry to resent it. They shout to satisfy their fear and not to maintain their honor. Keep an eye out!” The Judge, in a tone of cool indifference, says he has no fears of the renegade, and will one of these days have the pleasure of sending him to the whipping-post. “As to that, Judge,” interposes Mr. Snivel, “I have already prepared the preliminaries. I gave him the trifle you desired-to-morrow I will nail him at the Keno crib.” With this the Judge and the Justice each take an affectionate leave of the frail girl, and, as it is now past one o’clock in the morning, an hour much profaned in Charleston, take their departure.