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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
“Had she been an American, I should have despaired of
succeeding unless her feelings could have been touched; but,
as she is a foreigner, perhaps money will procure her services.
Should Miss Wilmeter approve of your selection, sir, I will intreat her to go as high as fifty dollars a month, rather than not
get the sort of person I want. You can imagine how much importance I attach to success. To escape remarks and gossiping,
the person engaged can join me as a companion, or friend, and
not as a servant.”
“I will get Mike off in half an hour, and Sarah will at least
make an effort. Yes, Marie Moulin, or Mary Mill, as the girls
call her, is just the thing!”
“Marie Moulin! Is that the name of the woman? She who
was in the service of the Barringers, at Paris? Do you mean that
person five – and – thirty, slightly pock – marked, with light
blue eyes, and yellowish hair more like a German, than her
French name would give reason to expect?”
“The very same; and you knew her, too! Why not bring all
your friends around you at once, Miss Monson, and not remain here an hour longer than is necessary.”
Mary was too intent on the subject of engaging the wom-
an in question, to answer this last appeal. Earnestly did she
resume her instructions, therefore, and with an eagerness of
manner young Wilmeter had never before observed in her. “If
Marie Moulin be the person meant,” she said, “I will spare no
pains to obtain her services. Her attentions to poor Mrs. Barringer, in her last illness, were admirable; and we all loved her,
I may say. Beg your sister to tell her, Mr. Wilmeter, that an
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
old acquaintance, in distress, implores her assistance. That will
bring Marie, sooner than money, Swiss though she be.”
“If you would write her a line, enclosing your real name, for
we are persuaded it is not Monson, it might have more effect
than all our solicitations, in behalf of one that is unknown.”
The prisoner turned slowly from the grate, and walked up
and down her gallery for a minute or two, as if pondering on
this proposal. Once she smiled, and it almost gave a lustre to
her remarkable countenance; then a cloud passed over her
face, and once more she appeared sad.
“No,” she said, stopping near the grate again, in one of her
turns. “I will not do it it will be risking too much. I can do
nothing, just now, that will tell more of me than your sister
can state.”
“Should Marie Moulin know you, she must recognise you
when you meet.”
“It will be wiser to proceed a little in the dark. I confide
all to your powers of negotiation, and shall remain as tranquil as possible, until to – morrow morning. There is still another little affair that I must trouble you with, Mr. Wilmeter.
My gold is sequestered, as you know, and I am reduced to an
insufficient amount of twos and threes. Might I ask the favour
of you to obtain smaller notes for this, without mentioning in
whose behalf it is done?”
While speaking, Mary handed through the grate a hun-
dred dollar note of one of the New York banks, with a manner so natural and unpretending, as at once to convince John
Wilmeter, ever so willing to be persuaded into anything in her
favour, that she was accustomed to the use of money in con-
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
siderable sums; or, what might be considered so, for the wants
and habits of a female. Luckily, he had nearly money enough
in his wallet to change the note, making up a small balance
that was needed, by drawing five half – eagles from his purse.
The prisoner held the last, in the open palm of one of the most
beautiful little hands the eyes of man ever rested on.
“This metal has been my bane, in more ways than one, Mr.
Wilmeter,” she said, looking mournfully at the coin. “Of one
of its evil influences on my fate, I may not speak, now, if ever;
but you will understand me when I say, that I fear that gold
piece of Italian money is the principal cause of my being where
I am.”
“No doubt, it has been considered one of the most mate-
rial of the facts against you, Miss Monson; though it is by no
means conclusive, as evidence, even with the most bitter and
prejudiced.”
“I hope not. Now, Mr. Wilmeter, I will detain you no lon-
ger; but beg you to do my commission with your sister, as you
would do it for her with me. I would write, but my hand is so
peculiar, it were better that I did not.”
Mary Monson now dismissed the young man, with the
manner of one very familiar with the tone of good society a
term that it is much the fashion to ridicule just now, but which
conveys a meaning, that it were better the scoffers understood.
This she did, however, after again apologising for the trouble
she was giving, and thanking him earnestly for the interest
he took in her affairs. We believe in animal magnetism; and
cannot pretend to say what is the secret cause of the powerful sympathy that is so often suddenly awakened between per-
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
sons of different sexes, and, in some instances, between those
who are of the same sex; but Mary Monson, by that species
of instinct that teaches the female where she has awakened
an interest livelier than common, and possibly where she has
not, was certainly already aware that John Wilmeter did not
regard her with the same cool indifference he would have felt
towards an ordinary client of his uncle’s. In thanking him,
therefore, her own manner manifested a little of the reflected
feeling that such a state of things is pretty certain to produce.
She coloured, and slightly hesitated once, as if she paused to
choose her terms with more than usual care; but, in the main,
acquitted herself well. The parting, betrayed interest, perhaps
feeling, on both sides; but nothing very manifest escaped either of our young people.
Never had John Wilmeter been at a greater loss to inter-
pret facts, than he was on quitting the grate. The prisoner was
truly the most incomprehensible being he had ever met with.
Notwithstanding the fearful nature of the charges against her
charges that might well have given great uneasiness to the
firmest manshe actually seemed in love with her prison. It is
true, that worthy Mrs. Gott had taken from the place many
of its ordinary, repulsive features; but it was still a gaol, and
the sun could be seen only through grates, and massive walls
separated her that was within, from the world without. As the
young man was predisposed to regard everything connected
with this extraordinary young woman couleur de rose, however, he saw nothing but the surest signs of innocence in several
circumstances that might have increased the distrust of his
cooler – headed uncle; but most persons would have regarded
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
the gentle tranquillity that now seemed to soothe a spirit that
had evidently been much troubled of late, as a sign that her
hand could never have committed the atrocities with which
she was charged.
“Is she not a sweet young thing, Mr. Wilmeter?” exclaimed
kind Mrs. Gott, while locking the doors after John, on his retiring from the grate. “I consider it an honour to Biberry gaol, to
have such a prisoner within its walls!”
“I believe that you and I stand alone in our favourable
opinion of Miss Monson,” John answered; “so far, at least, as
Biberry is concerned. The excitement against her seems to be
at the highest pitch; and I much doubt whether a fair trial can
be had in the county.”
“The newspapers won’t mend the matter, sir. The papers
from town, this morning, are full of the affair, and they all appear to lean the same way. But it’s a long road that has no turning, Mr. Wilmeter.”
“Very true, and nothing wheels about with a quicker step
than the sort of public opinion that is got up under a cry,
and runs itself out of breath, at the start. I expect to see Mary
Monson the most approved and most extolled woman in this
county, yet!”
Mrs. Gott hoped with all her heart that it might be so,
though she had, certainly, misgivings that the young man did
not feel. Half an hour after John Wilmeter had left the gaol,
his friend, Michael Millington, was on the road to town, carrying a letter to Sarah, with a most earnest request that she
would use all her influence with Marie Moulin to engage in
the unusual service asked of her, for a few weeks, if for no lon-
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
ger a period. This letter reached its destination in due time,
and greatly did the sister marvel over its warmth, as well as
over the nature of the request.
“I never knew John to write so earnestly!” exclaimed Sarah,
when she and Michael had talked over the matter a few moments. “Were he actually in love, I could not expect him to be
more pressing.”
“I will not swear that he is not,” returned the friend, laugh-
ing. “He sees everything with eyes so different from mine, that
I scarce know what to make of him. I have never known John
so deeply interested in any human being, as he is at this moment in this strange creature!”
“Creature! You men do not often call young ladies creatures;
and my brother affirms that this Mary Monson is a lady.”
“Certainly she is, so far as exterior, manner, education,
and I suppose, tastes, are concerned. Nevertheless, there is too
much reason to think she is, in some way unknown to us, connected with crime.”
“I have read accounts of persons of these attainments, who
have been leagued together, and have carried on a great system of plundering for years, with prodigious success. That,
however, was in older countries, where the necessities of a
crowded population drive men into extremes. We are hardly
sufficiently advanced, or civilized as they call it, for such bold
villany.”
“A suspicion of that nature has crossed my mind,” returned
Millington, looking askance over his shoulder, as if he apprehended that his friend might hear him. “It will not do, however, to remotely hint to John anything of the sort. His mind is
beyond the influence of testimony.”
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THE WAYS OF THE HOUR
Sarah scarce knew what to make of the affair, though sisterly
regard disposed her to do all she could to oblige her brother.
Marie Moulin, however, was not easily persuaded into consenting to serve a mistress who was in prison. She held up her hands,
turned up her eyes, uttered fifty exclamations, and declared, over
and over again “ c’est impossible;” and wondered how a female in
such a situation could suppose any respectable domestic would
serve her, as it would be very sure to prevent her ever getting a
good place afterwards. This last objection struck Sarah as quite
reasonable, and had not her brother been so very urgent with
her, would of itself have induced her to abandon all attempt
at persuasion. Marie, however, finally yielded to a feeling of intense curiosity, when no bribe in money could have bought her.
John had said the prisoner knew herhad known her in Europeand she was soon dying with the desure to know who, of all her
many acquaintances in the old world, could be the particular
individual who had got herself into this formidable difficulty.
It was impossible to resist this feeling, so truly feminine, which
was a good deal stimulated by a secret wish in Sarah, also, to
learn who this mysterious person might be; and who did not fail
to urge Marie, with all her rhetoric, to consent to go and, at least,
see the person who had so strong a wish to engage her services.
The Swiss had not so much difficulty in complying, provided she
was permitted to reserve her final decision until she had met
the prisoner, when she might gratify her curiosity, and return
to town prepared to enlighten Miss Wilmeter, and all her other
friends, on a subject that had got to be intensely interesting.
It was not late, next morning, when Marie Moulin, at-
tended by John Wilmeter, presented herself to Mrs. Gott, as
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
an applicant for admission to the gallery of Mary Monson. The
young man did not show himself, on this occasion; though he
was near enough to hear the grating of the hinges when the
prison – door opened.
“C’est bien vous donc, Marie!” said the prisoner, in a quick
but pleased salutation.
“Mademoiselle!” exclaimed the Swiss. The kisses of women
succeeded. The door closed, and John Wilmeter learned no
more, on that occasion.
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CHAPTER VIII
“And can you by no drift of conference
Get from him, why he puts on this confusion”
Hamlet.
There is something imaginative, if not very picturesque, in
the manner in which the lawyers of Manhattan occupy the
buildings of Nassau street, a thoroughfare which connects
Wall street with the Tombs. There they throng, resembling
the remains of so many monuments along the Appian way,
with a “siste viator” of their own, to arrest the footsteps of the
wayfarer. We must now transfer the scene to a building in this
street, which stands about half – way between Maiden Lane
and John Street, having its front plastered over with little tin
signs, like a debtor marked by writs, or what are now called
“complaints.” Among these signs, which afforded some such
pleasant reading as an almanac, was one that bore this simple
and reasonably intelligent inscription:
“Thomas Dunscomb, 2d floor, in front.”
It is somewhat singular that terms as simple as those of first
floor, second floor, &c., should not signify the same things in
the language of the mother country, and that of this land of
progress and liberty. Certain it is, nevertheless, that in Ameri-
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
can parlance, more especially in that of Manhattan, a first floor
is never up one pair of stairs, as in London, unless indeed the
flight is that by which the wearied foot – passenger climbs
the high stoop to gain an entrance into the building. In other
words, an English first floor corresponds with an American
second; and, taking that as the point of departure, the same
difference exists throughout. Tom Dunscomb’s office (or offices would be the better term) occupied quite half of the second
story of a large double house, that had once been the habitation of some private family of note, but which had long been
abandoned to the occupation of these ministers of the law.
Into those offices it has now become our duty to accompany
one who seemed a little strange in that den of the profession,
at the very moment he was perfectly at home.
“Lawyer Dunscomb in?” demanded this person, who had
a decided rustic mien, though his dress had a sort of legal dye
on it, speaking to one of the five or six clerks who raised their
heads on the stranger’s entrance.
“In, but engaged in a consultation, I believe,” answered one
who, being paid for his services, was the working clerk of the
office; most of the others being students who get no remuneration for their time, and who very rarely deserve it.
“I’ll wait till he is through,” returned the stranger, help-
ing himself coolly to a vacant chair, and taking his seat in the
midst of dangers that might have alarmed one less familiar
with the snares, and quirks, and quiddities of the law. The several clerks, after taking a good look each at their guest, cast
their eyes down on their books or foolscap, and seemed to be
engrossed with their respective occupations. Most of the young
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