old story, but now he opened them and became alert.

"Did he get any money on them?" inquired Glezen.

"I'm a-comin' to it, careful," said Bill. "Two of the fellers waited for Captain Hank, an' they waited till he come back, the wust beat man you ever see. He went to a high party as deals extensive, and the high party knowed about the bonds, an' come down on 'im with a barker an' a. telegraph, an' was too many for 'im. Leastways, that's Captain Hank's story. Captain Hank gave both of his pardners an X, an' that's all they ever see of the bonds, an' then he broke with 'em. An' here you sets an' asks me if he got money on 'em. In course he got money on 'em, an' he got more'n he give account fer. That's what's the matter. You don't s'pose I'd come here an' give him up if he'd dealt fair, do ye?"

"Who's the high party as deals extensive?" inquired Glezen, adopting a phrase which Bill seemed to have used with considerable pride.

"He's a party as gobbled the whole pile, an' we've watched the papers to see if the bonds ever got back to the man as owns 'em, but the old cock hasn't peeped. He's got 'em now. I've seen 'im sence in the street, and butter wouldn't melt in 'is mouth."

"What door? Whose door?"
"Old Benson's!" in a whisper.

It was Glezen's time to be excited now. "I have a good mind to tell you that you lie, and to kick you out of my office," said he.

"I knowed you wouldn't believe it," said Bill, deprecatingly. "I wanted to get my hand onto a Bible, and you wouldn't let me." "Very well," said Glezen, trembling with excitement, "you shall have your hand on a Bible. Here it is. Stand up, and put your hand on it."

The rogue staggered to his feet, and placed his hand boldly on the book. "I'm ready," said he.

"You solemnly swear, that you honestly and firmly believe, that a man whom you know as Captain Hank, and as the robber who stole a package of bonds from Nicholas Minturn at Ottercliff, disposed of those bonds to, or had them taken from him by, Benjamin Benson, in this city, God Almighty being your witness, and your avenger if you swear falsely."

Glezen administered the oath with profound solemnity.

"I do," said Bill, "an' that's what I call business. You might as well have come to it afore, an' it wasn't my fault that you didn't." "Now, if you have lied to me, Bill Sanders, I'll make this place too hot to hold

"If I've lied to you, I hope I'll go to a hotter place than you can make this into," said Bill, firmly.

"Don't you tell this to anybody else," said Glezen. "If it's true, I'll take care of the matter. If it is false, as it probably is, whatever your belief may be, it will be a cruel thing against an innocent man to say anything about it. Captain Hank has probably lied to you. He may have gone to Mr. Benson to sell the bonds, but he probably did not sell them. And now," said Glezen, rising, "I want nothing more of you to-night."

"What are you going to give me?" inquired Bill.

"For what you've told me, nothing," said Glezen, "until I am convinced that you have told me the truth. For your trouble in coming here to-night, this and he handed him a bank-note of a small denomination. Bill was disappointed.

breath.

No words, Bill, no words! Good-night!"

and he almost crowded him out of the door of his office, and locked himself in. Passing swiftly to his window, he saw his visitor cross Broadway, and disappear down one of the side streets.

It was already late, but he knew, with this secret in his possession, he could not sleep. He paced his room for a few minutes, then, seized with a sudden determination, he hurried on his overcoat and hat, locked his office, ran down-stairs, and hailing and leaping into a passing cab, ordered the driver to take him to the rooms of Nicholas, and not to lose time on the way.

The revelations of the robber had profoundly impressed him, however incredulously he may have appeared to receive them. He was certainly more than half convinced that Bill Sanders believed the statement he had sworn to. If he had not been measurably convinced of this, he would not have been so much excited.

He found himself sitting lightly on his seat, and leaning forward, with the strange, involuntary fancy that he was lightening the burden of the horse, or imparting something of the haste he felt to the brute that dragged him. Every muscle was tense, and, at last, became so painful that he was obliged to lean back for rest. Although the night was cold, the cab seemed close, and he put down the windows, that he might catch the sharp air on his feverish cheeks. Then came a flood of doubts whether he had a right to plant suspicions in the mind of Nicholas, which, in all probability, were groundless. He had a dozen impulses to stop the driver and walk back to his own rooms But the cab rolled on over the stony streets, past the theaters as they were disgorging themselves, past the saloons ablaze with light, past the long rows of dark warehouses, and the unending lines of flickering street-lamps, and he held to his seat as if by some fatal necessity. Crowded and violently exercised as his mind had been, he was at his destination before he could realize that the long distance had been measured. The cabman was royally paid for his service and dismissed; but even then Glezen hesitated.

In vain. He could not go away. He rang the bell, and on reaching the room he sought he found Nicholas preparing to retire for the night.

"What! This you?" exclaimed Nicholas. "Even so."

"What is the matter? You are pale. Are you ill?"

"I have heard the devil's own story tonight," said Glezen, sinking into a chair, "but I am not ill,-only a little excited. Put on your coat, Nicholas. We must have a talk. I don't know that I ought to tell you this story, but it's in me, and I don't seem to be able to hold it.”

Nicholas sat down near his friend, very much puzzled, and heard in profound amazement every incident of the interview that had occurred at Glezen's office.

"Now mark you, Nicholas," said Glezen, interrupting the latter in his attempt to speak, "I give but little credence to this story. On one side of it, there is a set of desperate rogues-men known to be thieves-men who would perjure their souls for money just as readily as they would break into a house, or cut a throat, if they had occasion for violence. On the other, there is a man more conspicuous for his probity than for anything else with all the dissuasives against crooked courses that can be gathered round a man, or gathered into him. It is not fair to pit one of these parties against the other, even before the bar of one's private judgment. We must keep this to ourselves. I am glad to have a partner in the possession of the story, because it is an ugly thing for one man to carry, but it cannot be true. You know it cannot be true."

"I'm not so sure of that," said Nicholas. "You lawyers are always after evidence that will be good in a court of justice. There are circumstances in my mind that have fitted themselves into, and illuminated every passage of, the story. I shall surprise you if I say that I not only believe that this story is true, but that my belief amounts almost to knowledge."

"You surprise me," said Glezen. "What do you mean?”

66

"I know the very night on which the transaction took place," said Nicholas. 'Why, the man almost revealed himself. The secret was as hard for him to hold as it has been for you; and if he had had no greater motive for keeping it than you have had, I should have received it then. My interview with him came next after that of Captain Hank. He was pale and excited when I entered. He questioned me about the bonds. He told me he believed, or felt, somehow, that I should get them again. He went so far as to say that he had just had a call from a man who was as likely to have been the robber as any man he had ever seen. I see it all. He had my bonds in his safe at that moment. He asked me if

I had yet discovered the record of the numbers, and I can see now-I saw it then, without understanding it—his look of satisfaction when I answered in the negative. It's true, Glezen; it's true! I see it more plainly every moment, as our conversation comes back to me. I see the strange malignity with which he undertook to play upon my hopes, and the blinds which he wove before my eyes. I tell you it's true." Nicholas grew more nervous and emphatic as he talked. Every word and circumstance of the interview which he recalled fitted so naturally into, or grew out of, the consciousness of guilt on Mr. Benson's part, that he could find no place for them in any substituted theory.

Then he rose and walked the room in wild excitement. He clenched his hands as if he were in pain. Then gesticulating furiously, he said:

"I see it! I see it! I know it is true!" "You forget, Nicholas, that Benson is not a fool," said Glezen. "He couldn't afford to risk his reputation for the money."

"He doesn't love me, Glezen." "Very well, he cannot afford to risk his position for the gratification of a private enmity. You must give me a better reason than these."

"Wouldn't he commit crime for the sake of saving his position ?" inquired Nicholas. "My boy," said Glezen, "that's deeper down into motives than I've been. If he is in any such strait as that, it is time our friend, Miss Larkin, were placed on her guard."

"She shall be placed on her guard the next time I see her. If he can steal from me, he can defraud her."

The excitement of Nicholas had had the

effect to cool Glezen, and the latter at last said quietly:

"Well, Nicholas, what are you going to do about it?"

"I am going to give Mr. Benson an opportunity to deny the story."

"You cannot do that, you know." "I can do it, and I will do it." "You will only get yourself into difficulty." "What do I care about that? I have had him on his knees more than once, and he has more than one reason to be afraid of me. You talk about keeping this matter to ourselves. I cannot carry it, even with your help. Why, the man has almost shaken my bonds in my face. He has gloated over their possession in my presence. Leave me alone. I shall not mention your name, and I assume all the responsibility."

Glezen saw that it was useless to argue with Nicholas in his excited and confident mood, and securing a promise from him that he would not move in the affair until further consultation, bade him good-night and sought his lodgings.

He left his friend to a night of sleeplessness. A danger to Miss Larkin had been opened to the latter in the conversation. His own instinct or insight had discovered it. It assumed the front of reality, and he could not put it out of his mind. Any selfish consideration was nothing compared with his sympathy for her, and the motive that sprung within him to shield and defend her.

He would warn her of her danger. She was a lamb in the den of a wolf, and he would be her protector. He tossed all night, and went through every imaginable encounter and conflict with his foe, but rose in the morning with his purpose unshaken.

WHEN, on the morning of Sunday, April 2d, 1865, Mr. President Davis was informed by a dispatch from General Lee that the Confederate army would be compelled to abandon Petersburg and Richmond that night, there was, as might have been expected, a wild panic in the capitol city, and not only the president, but the leading Confederate officials and generals then in Richmond, made a precipitate flight. In this flight the government warehouses, situated in the lower part of the city, between Cary street and the river, and filled with immense quantities of tobacco and other stores, were devoted to the flames, in order to prevent their rich booty from falling into the hands | of the Federal army. By whose order this wanton act was done has heretofore been deemed a matter of hazardous inquiry in Richmond; but in a recent important insurance case tried in that city, involving the liability of parties to the transaction, it seems to have been admitted that the order was issued by General Ewell. The burning of these immense warehouses loaded down the atmosphere with the smell of tobacco for miles and miles around, and added another (and the most grievous of all) to the many calamities which have befallen that city since, in 1781, it was first destroyed by the British, under General Arnold.

The history of Richmond since the fire shows the wonderful recuperative power of its people. Hundreds of the most successful business men in Richmond to-day found themselves, on the morning of the 3d of April, 1865, stripped of their last dollar's worth of property. Many of them were gentlemen of the oldest Virginia families, owning large ancestral estates before the war, and strangers to want. But not a few of them possessed great resources of mind and body, and philosophy enough to dismiss their regrets for the past, and to grapple resolutely with the exigencies of the occasion. The first thing to be done was to clear away the foundations and rebuild. In this labor they had no such adventitious aid as accrued to Chicago after her great fire, when sister cities a thousand miles away promptly contributed their eight or ten millions in insurance adjustments; for, under the circumstances of its destruction, no insurance policy protected a dollar's worth of Richmond property. But, nothing daunted, her people went to

work, every man putting his shoulder to the wheel. Of the success attained, the following pages will have something to tell.

In this renascence the Tredegar Iron Works, which had been turning out the mighty cannon of the Confederacy, promptly responded to the demands of peace, and began to master new processes of iron manufacture. The ponderous machinery of the Richmond Architectural Iron Works, which had been destroyed, was soon set in motion to repair the general ruin. In less than eight months after the fire, these extensive works were re-erected on their old site, and were filling heavy city orders. The Metropolitan Iron and Brass Works on Cary street, reaching from Seventh to Sixth, soon became a powerful auxiliary in the work of reparation, as did the Shockoe Machine Works, the Phoenix Foundry, the Franklin Machine Company, and many other establishments of lesser note, not to mention the Old Dominion Iron and Nail Works on Belle Isle, which had fortunately escaped the general conflagration. In addition to these several extensive works, employing hundreds and even thousands of the best skilled workmen, companies were formed for re-opening the coal mines in the near vicinity, and developing the Richmond granite quarries (the finest in the world), and soon three thousand lineal feet of sheds on the Manchester side of the river covered half as many stone-cutters, engaged in the grand work of restoration now resolutely in progress throughout the city.

In much less time than a similar work was afterward done in Chicago, the burnt district was entirely rebuilt, and with far more substantial, imposing, and beautiful edifices than those which had succumbed to the fire. Main street, the great business artery of the city, was especially improved in the solidity and style of its architecture, and the perfection of its mercantile arrange

ments.

In the view which we give of Richmond from the Manchester side of the river, the Tredegar Iron Works are seen nestling under Gamble's Hill, in the left foreground as seen beyond the rapids, while Belle Isle, the Tredegar railroad bridge, the Petersburg railroad bridge, and the Gallego flouring-mill, are, apart from the rapids themselves, the most conspicuous objects

that meet the eye in the lower part of the city. Beyond, on the crest of Shockoe Hill, stands the state capitol, an imposing edifice with a handsome Doric portico, below which, and to the right and left, lies the principal business portion of the city. The small church spire to the extreme right, on Church Hill, and almost hidden in the foliage of surrounding trees, is that of the " Old Church," in which Patrick Henry electrified the whole country in 1775, by his memorable utterance: "Give me liberty or give me death!"

The activity of the Tredegar Iron Works since the war has been remarkable. Since the reorganization of the company in 1867 with a capital of $1,000,000, it has constructed a bridge across the river, with a three-rail track, which enables the Works to connect with both systems of railroad (the narrow and wide gauge) running southward, and with the northern system on the Richmond side of the river, embracing the York River road, the Chesapeake and Ohio, and the Fredericksburg road to Washington and Baltimore. A more complete establishment of its kind is not to be found anywhere in the United States. It has a capacity for working twenty-five hundred hands, mostly skilled mechanics and artisans, and it only requires a general revival of business throughout the country to place the company on a solid footing of prosperity. Had it not suffered heavily from the failure of Jay Cooke & Co., it would hardly have met with any serious embarrassments since the

war.

The Works cover somewhat over fifteen acres of ground, and have an unlimited supply of water-power at all seasons of the year. The present capacity is more than double what it was before the war, the rolling-mills turning out over thirty thousand tons of railroad bars, spikes, etc., per annum, and the foundries between twenty and thirty thousand tons of castings, while the machine-shops are capable of an indefinite amount of work, depending upon the extent of force employed and the amount of orders they may have in hand. The car-shops (a branch more recently added) manufacture over two thousand freight-cars annually, while the car-wheels here made are in very wide demand, owing to their superior strength and durability. The Works receive orders from all the principal railroads in the United States, as well as in the Canadas, in Cuba, Peru, Brazil, and other parts of South America. Most of their raw material (the best grades

of pig-iron) comes from Virginia, Tennessee, Alabama and North Carolina. Richmond

and vicinity furnish the supply of coals,— the best quality that can be had for the general furnace,—as well as excellent grades of sand and clay for casting and puddling purposes.

In addition to the manufactories already mentioned, there are establishments for making steam and fire engines, steam saw-mills, agricultural implements of all kinds, tobacco machinery, carriages, furniture, cabinet furniture, wooden-ware, stone-ware, paper, and almost every description of household utensil. Add to these the sugar refineries, tanneries and sumac-mills, the extensive cotton-mills on the Manchester side of the river, the five large flouring-mills, capable of producing two million barrels of flour annually, and the fifty or sixty tobacco manufactories, and you can have some idea of what Richmond has been doing since the war to restore her shattered industries. And all these enterprises have, in the main, been undertaken and carried forward by Virginia industry and capital,-a circumstance all the more creditable, considering the comparatively brief period since the restoration of the state to the Union-i. e., since January 1, 1870.

The Old Dominion Nail and Iron Works may be seen on Belle Isle, which is much nearer the Manchester than the Richmond side of the river. It is a very extensive establishment, employing over a thousand hands, and has been very prosperous since the war. This island, famous as a Confederate prison, lies in the rapids of the river, with deep and angry currents on all sides. The prisoners were massed in camp on the flat portion of the island, at the eastern or lower extremity of it. On the hill above, and overlooking the camp, were two heavy pieces of artillery, designed to be used in case the prisoners should overpower the guard and attempt an escape. But the place had such natural protections, and presented such formidable barriers against escape, that the guns were never fired, except when some poor fellow paid all too dearly for his foolhardiness in venturing into the current in the vain hope of escaping to the opposite shore; and these volleys were only fired that his body, whirled into the deeper eddies of the stream, might rise to the surface and receive burial at the hands of his comrades. It is believed that no one ever escaped from the island, even when the river was at its lowest, and few