“'I find more bitter than death the woman whose heart is snares and nets, and her hands as bands.' “Jake, you know now why I couldn't go and live in your house, with this thing hanging over me.” “I do not quite understand you,” I said. “Why, as times are, if I had to pay that sum of money it would ruin me,” he declared. “I don't see how I can go to law with them and smirch myself and you with scandal, to say nothing of the girl--” “You needn't worry about her,” I interrupted, with a smile. “As to myself, I'll tell all I know as publicly as you please.” “I feel disgraced enough already,” said he, “but worse things are coming. I'm not going to lie down and let them rob me. I shall fight them, but not with your testimony.” “I am your friend--” I began. “Wait,” he interrupted, as he closed his desk. “Heron, I'm in love with your sister. I have never told her or any one. It may be a hopeless love; but, you see, it won't answer for you to have anything to do with this case, and I must keep away from your house until I am done with it. Your sister is sacred to me. I must keep her name as far from mine as possible until I am vindicated and free.” Then James Henry McCarthy--a gentleman than whom no knight of old had better chivalry--shook my hand and bade me good-night. CHAPTER VII,--MCCARTHY S FIRST BATTLE WITH SATAN [Illustration: 9301] HOSE days there were few if any bribe agreements made in Albany. Sometimes a member would find money in his mail from unnamed but not, probably, from unknown sources, or now and then a good team or a pair of oxen would be delivered at his farm as “a token of regard” or “the tribute of admiration.” But “the lobby,” while on its way, had not yet arrived at the capital. It had been noised abroad that Vanderbilt had control of all the great railroads in the State except the Erie, and was likely soon to acquire that--Vanderbilt, then worth forty million dollars! Clever and unscrupulous men, who foresaw that he would have favors to ask of the Legislature, began to hustle for seats. Next session a number of these came on with credentials, some who had failed of election came also, and began to organize “the third house,” as the lobby was called later. We spent the last day or two of every week at Rushwater looking after the shop, which had an excellent manager, and things had gone well with us. The gentleman had been returned to the legislature without a word of opposition, and was known far and wide as the “cowcatcher.” He stood for progress, and was, indeed, a little in advance of it, and pushed things out of the way. He was polite--always polite--but as firm as iron. No word of vituperation ever escaped his lips, and yet he had a most dreaded and terrible gentleness. Suddenly, just before the beginning of the session, an important man came to us with plans for a bridge of vast proportions to span the Hudson at Poughkeepsie. It was a daring, a magnificent, design of the best engineers.