University of Virginia Library

1. CHAPTER I.
The Hero patronizes the Three Gilt Balls. The Scenes therein.
A Saloon near the Park.

It was near the close of an unusually severe day in March, that a
person muffled to the eyes in a handsome dark-colored cloak, and wearing
a singularly shabby fur cap, might have been seen stealing along
the walk, in Chatham street, opposite the Pawnbrokers' or Jews' Row.
His step was slow and hesitating, while his eyes furtively glanced about,
now up the street, now down, as if fearing that his movements would
be observed. His height and figure were good, and his air genteel,
but in his seedy cap, and in his shrunken, worn trowsers, and old boots,
that appeared beneath his very elegant Spanish cloak, there was a discrepancy
that might have arrested the eye of any observing passer by.
But no one of the hurrying crowd noticed him. Each one was bent on
his own business and aim. The mechanic, with his hands filled with
tools, was hastening to his family; the sewing girl, in hood and shawl,
to her humble home far up town where rents were cheap; the man of
pleasure was pressing forward to the theatre for an early seat; the
beggar, shuffling along to his hole in some wretched cellar. No one
noticed him, for extremes, in the metropolis, are too often wedded to
attract remark. But the young man did not seem to avoid observation
upon his dress, but upon his movements. Three times, he passed and
repassed a narrow door hung about with second-hand garments, over

the lintel of which was suspended a sign representing three gilt balls,
the well-known beacon for the wretched.

Suddenly, he stopped before the door, cast about a hurried glance,
and concealing his face darted into the door, which, like a vortex,
yawns ever, to swallow up the poor. He found himself in a strange
looking apartment, long and narrow. On his right was a counter,
against which were constructed half a dozen upright boxes, each the
height of a man's head and wide enough to contain a single person.
On the side towards him was a green curtain, made so as to let fall to
conceal the occupant, but the side or front next to the counter was
open, so that the person in the box could transact business with the
pawnbroker unseen by any one but him. The young man passed along
from box to box, and found all filled by persons who carefully kept the
curtains down. At the extremity of the row of little closets was an
open space, where he stood concealing his features, and began to take
a survey of the scene till his own turn should come. There were two
others waiting, a young woman closely veiled, and an old man, who did
not care to have his poverty and necessities known; he held his hat in
his hand and was wiping his forehead, for the place, filled as it was
with clothes hanging all around, and with people, was stifled and hot.

From the place where the young man stood, he could command a
view of the counter. Behind it stood three men, Jews, for their short
stature, their dark Oriental eyes, eagle-beaked noses, full lips, and
bushy black hair, could not belong to any other race.

One of them was a middle-aged man with a keen restless eye, a bald
forehead, and more hair upon his chin and cheeks than upon his head.
He was examining a small gold watch with an air of contempt, and the
few words be uttered were those of scornful depreciation.

`I must have ten dollars, sir,' said, from within the box before him,
a female voice, in earnest tones.

`It ish not wort dat moosh,' answered the Jew, harshly;' I advance
seven tollarsh no more.'

`I cant do with less than ten,' said the same low, imploring, yet
sweet voice. `Even nine would do me no good.'

Den what you come here for? Take your watsh,' he answered,
handing it back to her.

A white hand, that of a young woman, was extended to take it. It
was extended slowly and reluctantly.

`Sir, will you give me ten, and take this ring also?'

`Let me shee de rink.'

She-handed it to him with hesitation, as if it were a sacred treasure
that had never before gone from her hand. He examined it, and his
gimlet eye sparkled.

`Yesh, I gif you ten dollarsh.'

`Will you be sure, sir, and keep it safely.'

`Yesh, yesh,' he answered, impatiently.

He then took the watch and ring, which were worth full fifty dollars,
and placed them in a little paper bag which was numbered. He then
asked her name, and wrote the same number and the name upon a
ticket, and handed it to her with a ten dollar note.

`You will be so kind as to keep the watch wound up, sir. It has
never stopped since — since —' here some emotion overcame utterance.

`I haf oder ting to do, beside wind your watsh,' answered the man,
coarsely. `Leave de box to oder peoplesh.'

`I shall come for them in a few days, sir, if you would keep it
wound up for a week, and then —'

`Leave de box, Miss,' he cried, sternly.

The lady drew back. The young man, who had witnessed this scene
with a cheek glowing with sympathy and indignation, watched when
she came out. He saw that her figure was graceful, though enveloped
in a faded shawl. She wore a green veil doubled over her face, yet he
felt sure she could not be twenty. She hurried out, and disappeared.
He advanced and took her place in the box, dropping the curtain behind
him. The pawnbroker was engaged already, in attending upon a
person in the adjoining box; his other assistants, two young German
Jews, with shrewd, vulgar physiognomies, being engaged also, each
with a customer. The one next seemed to be an elderly man, from his
voice, who was pawning a pair of silver spectacles, and trying to get two
dollars upon them. The Jew offered but a dollar, for which the old
man let them go. In the third box was an Irish woman, who was
pledging a gown and shawl, for which she received half a dollar. In
the box on the right of the young man, was a spruce looking youth,
for as he bent forward, to whisper to the clerk, his face was for a moment
visible. He had with him, a large bundle of sewing-silk and
Italian cravats. He demanded twenty dollars, but got twelve. The
negotiation was managed with such whispering, and significant looks

between them, that he was set down by the young gentleman in the
cloak, as a thieving apprentice, who had pilfered the goods and was
there to raise money upon them for his dissipations. In the next box
beyond, a pair of hands was visible holding out a silver cup. The
hands were thin and white, evidently those of a lady of middle age. The
cup bore an armorial device. It was probably the last relic of former
opulence — all that remained upon which corroding poverty had not fed
its greedy maw.

`Well, now let me see your goods,' demanded the old Jew, after
having dismissed the old man with the spectacles. This was addressed
to the young man in the handsome cloak and shabby cap.

He took from beneath his cloak, a bundle wrapped up in a newspaper,
and laid it upon the counter before the lynx-eyed Israelite.
Through the open folds of the cloak, it could be seen that the young
man was in his shirt-sleeves. The pawnbroker tore off the paper, and
exposed a handsome broadcloth coat and satin vest two fine linen
shirts, and a silk scarf. With a professional eye the Jew held up
each of the articles, and seemed to decide upon them at a glance.
The coat underwent a little closer scrutiny perhaps than the other
articles.

`Well, what do you want for these?' demanded the pawnbroker, not
betraying any surprise, that a person of his genteel appearance, should
pawn such things. Indeed, he would not have betrayed any surprise,
had Napoleon come before him, in the little box, to pledge his imperial
crown. Nothing moves a pawnbroker. Curiosity, wonder, have long
ago ceased to have vitality in his bosom. He gets to be a mere machine,
an automaton pawnbroker.

`Eleven dollars,' answered the pledger, who, by the light burning
behind the counter, (for pawnbrokers' shops are dark at noon-day)
proved to be a very handsome, but pale young gentleman, with a fine,
full, dark eye, expressive features, and an air of decided aristocracy.
His age was not more than five or six and twenty. There was visible,
in his aspect; a look of anxiety and gloom, if not of sterness, and he
looked as if he had been of late indulging to excess in fashionable
pleasures, wherein he had been the loser both in health and purse.

`Eleven fiddles,' answered the Jew, with a look of contempt, pushing
the garments back to him.

`Give me what you can, then.'

`I will give fife tollarsh.'

`Take them,' answered the young man, with a reckless air that
showed the desperation of his fortunes. The Jew rapidly folded up
the clothes in a paper, stuck a number upon the parcel, and laid it upon
a shelf behind him, with hundreds of other labelled packages, crowding
the shelves to the very ceiling. He then gave him a ticket and a
five dollar note. Upon the ticket he wrote the pledger's name, without
inquiry, as if he had seen him there before on similar errands. The
name was simply Knox.

The young man took up the money and ticket, and was going out,
when the Jew said,

`To save you de trouble ov coming again, I 'll gif you ten dollarsh
vor de cloak you haf on.'

`If I come again, it will be to pawn my cloak to buy a pistol, to
blow my brains out,' answered the young man in a voice of strong
emotion.

`You had petter take de ten dollarsh.'

`No. I have this, and it is all I have left. Will you give me ten
dollars for it should I bring it to you?' he asked, turning back to the
counter.

`If you bring it before sabbath day.

`That is, Saturday, your sabbath?'

`Yesh.'

`If I bring it, it will be before then,' answered the pledger, leaving
the box and going out.

`Come, quick, transhact your business,' he heard the Jew scolding
as he left, to the others who remained. `In ten minutes 't will pe sun
down, when de law oblishe me to shut up my schop.'

It was already the verge of twilight, for the sky was filled with dark
clouds, which cast a deep gloom over the city, even before the sun was
quite below the horizon. The young man wrapped his form to the chin
in his cloak, muffling thus, partly on account of the sharp cold, and
partly to prevent being recognized. He took his way along towards
Park Row, and passing the theatre, where a link-man was already lighting
the large lamps in front, he entered a door a few paces beyond it.
About the steps, as he passed in, lounged four or five tawdrily dressed
young men, with long hair, and cigars between their lips. They had
the hard, reckless look of professional gamblers.

As the pledger passed in by them they glanced at him, and one remarked
to the other,

`He 'll not hold out long. He is on his last legs. Did you see his
shabby cap and boots?'

`Yes,' was the reply. `He 'll soon be glad to part with his cloak.
Well, I have got all I want out of the poor fellow.'

`I think we have all fleeced him pretty well,' answered one of them,
with a gold chain displayed across his red velvet vest, numerous rings
on his fingers, studs and breastpin in his shirt, and a gold watch chain,
loaded with seals and trinkets, dangled down his right side.

`He goes in as if he had made a fresh raise of funds.'

`Nothing worth going up stairs after him for, I 'll bet a V,' was the
response of the first speaker. `There is enough on 'em up there to
clean him out.'

The person who was the subject of these remarks, after entering the
room below, which was an extensive showy restaurant, brilliantly
lighted, and thronged with a set of flashy, genteel individuals, passed
up stairs through a green door at the extremity of the saloon. He
neither looked to the right nor the left, but hurried on, like a man who
has but a single object and aim.

The stairs were thickly carpeted, and wound spirally to the third
story, without any perceptible landing on the second floor. He
emerged at the top into a room about ten feet square, lined with green
baize, walls and ceiling, and having upon the floor a carpet of green
bocking. It was called appropriately the green room. It was surrounded
by racks, which held coats, canes, and umbrellas, and upon a
table covered with a bright scarlet cloth, lay several bowie knives,
dirks, and three pistols. By the table, sat a short, thick-set fellow,
with a coarse countenance thickly studded with the scars of the small
pox. He wore a dry-looking, reddish wig, much too small for his large,
round skull, which sat close upon his shoulders in contempt of everything
like a neck. In his hands he held a small parcel of playing
cards which he incessantly shuffled for pastime. Upon the backs were
written certain numbers in red ink. When the young man appeared,
he said, politely,

`Leave your cloak and take a ticket, Mr. Hastings.'

`No, I will go in as I am.'

`You have no weapons?'

`No, sir.'

`Very well. Your fee, for I suppose you play.'

`There is a five. Give me the change.'

Four dollars were handed back to him. With it grasped tightly in
the palm of his hand, he strode past the door-keeper, and entered a
vast and splendid gaming saloon. Along the centre were ranged
three billiard tables, at which players were engaged. In gilded
alcoves, around the sides, were card-tables, and at each extremity, was
a roulette and faro table. Persons were playing at all the games, and
the sharp ticking of the billiard balls, the shuffling of cards, the
ringing of silver, with the noise of voices in every key, met his ears.