“And now, Maria,” says Tom, pressing her hand in his own, “I, whom you rescued when homeless-I, who was loathed when a wretched inebriate, am now a man. My manhood I owe to you. I acknowledge it with a grateful heart. You were my friend then-I am your friend now. May I, nay! am I worthy of retaining this hand for life?” “Rather, I might ask,” she responds, in a faltering voice, “am I worthy of this forgiveness, this confidence, this pledge of eternal happiness?” It is now the image of a large and noble heart reflects itself in the emotions of the lovers, whose joys heaven seems to smile upon. “Let us forget the past, and live only for the future-for each other’s happiness; and heaven will reward the pure and the good!” concludes Tom, again sealing his faith with an ardent embrace. “You are richer than me!” now, for the last time, rings its gladdening music into her very soul. Tom recompenses the faithful old negro, who has been a silent looker on, and though the night is far spent, he leads Maria from the place that has been a house of torment to her, provides her a comfortable residence for the night, and, as it is our object not to detain the reader longer with any lengthened description of what follows, may say that, ere a few days have passed, leads Maria to the altar and makes her his happy Bride. CHAPTER XLVIII. A FEW WORDS WITH THE READER. The abruptness with which we were compelled to conclude this history, may render it necessary to make a few explanations. Indeed, we fancy we hear the reader demanding them. By some mysterious process, known only to Keepum and Snivel, the old Antiquary was found at large on the day following Tom Swiggs’ return, notwithstanding the Appeal Court did not sit for some six weeks. It is some months since Tom returned, and although he has provided a comfortable home for the Antiquary, the queer old man still retains a longing for the old business, and may be seen of a fine morning, his staff in his right hand, his great-bowed spectacles mounted, and his infirm step, casting many an anxious look up at his old shop, and thinking how much more happy he would be if he were installed in business, selling curiosities to his aristocratic customers, and serving the chivalry in general. As for Keepum, why he lost no time in assuring Tom of his high regard for him, and has several times since offered to lend him a trifle, knowing full well that he stands in no need of it.