"On inquiring of the landlady for Mary, he was told that she had gone to Pennsylvania with her brother, who had come for her two days before. Something in the woman's manner excited Mr. England's suspicions, and he told her that he thought she was deceiving him, and that Mary was still in the house. "At this the woman flew into a passion, and swore volubly at Mr. England in several languages. This strengthened his suspicions of foul play, and he grew more peremptory in his manner of speech. While he was contesting the matter with the landlady, one of the girls in waiting passed near him, and muttered something which he understood to be a statement that Mary was actually in the house. "Upon this Mr. England took decided ground, and told the woman that unless she immediately produced the girl, he would go for an officer and have her arrested. This brought her to terms. She gave one of the waitresses a key, and an order in German, in pursuance of which the girl went and unlocked the room in which Mary was confined. As soon as the door was opened Mary came rushing out, and seeing Mr. England, she flew to him sobbing hysterically, and clinging to his arm--and cried: "'Take me from this place, Mr. England; take me from this place!' "After demanding Mary's trunk, which was delivered to him, with all her things, Mr. England immediately took the rescued girl to a place of safety. "Mary's brother had died, as she soon learned, while she was on her voyage to meet him. But a young New York lawyer saw her and loved her, and wooed her, and won her, and married her, and she is now living, happy and prosperous, in Brooklyn. "But suppose there had been no Mr. England in the case. Or, suppose Mr. England had gone to Rhode Island, without stopping to look after this homeless young stranger! "Why, then, she would have met her wretched doom in that William street den, and been one of the class about, whom this article is written." CHAPTER XXXVI. THE WICKEDEST MAN IN NEW YORK In the July number of _Packard's Monthly_, an able and sprightly magazine, published in this city, there appeared an article by Mr. Oliver Dyer, entitled "The Wickedest Man in New York." It was a lengthy and interesting account of a dance-house, carried on at No. 304 Water street--one of the vilest sections of the city--by one John Allen, and of the proprietor himself. As many of our readers may not have seen this article, we give portions of it, referring them to the magazine for the rest.