They walked up Broadway till they came to one of those gaudy saloons where rum and ruin are tricked out in the gayest of colors. "We are early for the lecture, Somers. Let's go in here, and see what there is to be seen." "No, I thank you; I don't care about going into any of these dens of vice and sin." "'Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, As, to be hated, needs but to be seen,'" repeated the captain with dramatic force. "'But seen too oft----' You needn't see it but once. Don't you want to see the lions of the metropolis?" "Don't object to the lions; but, in my opinion, you will find only the donkeys in there." "Let us see, at any rate." "I will go in for a moment," replied Somers, who did not like to seem over-squeamish. They entered this outer gate to ruin. There was a bar at the end next to the street, while at the other end a band of music was playing the national airs. It looked like a very pleasant place to the young lieutenant, who had never entered one of these saloons before. CHAPTER IV THE FIRE OF TEMPTATION Captain de Banyan sauntered gracefully up the saloon, with Somers at his side. He appeared to be perfectly at home, and to have all the ease and finish of a thorough man of the world. His movements were calculated to make a sensation; and, as he passed along, old topers and gay young bloods paused to glance at him. If the captain had been in command of the Army of the Potomac, his elevated position would hardly have justified a more extensive flourish than he made. Lieutenant Somers was duly impressed by the magnificence of his companion, though the surroundings of the place created some painful misgivings in his mind. The captain sat down at one of the little tables where the frequenters of the saloon who were disposed to prolong the enjoyment of their drams discussed "juleps," "cobblers," and other villainous compounds. Somers could not do less than seat himself at the other side of the table. He was ill at ease, even while he was endeavoring to seem indifferent and at home. I am sorry to say he was haunted by that abominable bugbear which often takes possession of the minds of young men when they find themselves in the presence of those who are adepts in the arts of vice--a fear of being thought "green," "verdant," or being measured by some other adjective used in fast circles to caricature the innocence of a soul unsullied by contact with the vices and follies of the city. He half expected that some of the dissolute young wretches who were drinking, swearing, and pouring the filth of a poisoned mind from their lips, would ask him if "his mother knew he was out." He tried to maintain his self-possession, and to seem at home where ruin was rioting in the souls of young men. If he did not entirely succeed, it was all the more to his credit.