We now find him associated with the desperadoes of slave-dealing, in the scene we have presented. After Romescos had related what he called the romance of his life,--intended, no doubt, to impress the party with his power and intrepidity, and enable him to set a higher value upon his services,--he lighted a pipe, threw his hat upon the floor, commenced pacing up and down the room, as if labouring under deep excitement. And while each one seemed watching him intently, a loud knocking was heard at the door,--then the baying of blood-hounds, the yelps of curs, mingling with the murmurs of those poor wretches confined in the cells beneath. Then followed the clanking of chains, cries, and wailings, startling and fearful. Dan Bengal sprang to the door, as if conscious of its import. A voice demanded admittance; and as the door opened Bengal exclaimed, "Halloo!-here's Nath Nimrod: what's the tune of the adventure?" A short, stout man entered, dressed in a coarse homespun hunting dress, a profuse black beard and moustache nearly covering his face. "I is'nt so bad a feller a'ter all-is I?" he says, rushing forward into the centre of the room, followed by four huge hounds. They were noble animals, had more instinctive gentleness than their masters, displayed a knowledge of the importance of the prize they had just gained. "Hurrah for Nath! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah, for Nath! You got him, Nath-did'nt ye?" resounded from several tongues, and was followed by a variety of expressions highly complimentary to his efficiency.