ready fallen, and Gilbert Tordan was not in the house, ed R ་ Avaldan fuse beamed with graptadth 3 was e the same time, when he is intrusted with thirty-six | perceiving that Edward Chesley had be hundred pounds." Perhaps Seymour might play with you," Reginald continued, after a pause. "I don't think he is principled against cards." "No. I had a game with him myself, the other day; he won a trifle, too." "It is very well for Seymour to win," observed Reginald, in a dry tone; "for I lon't think he has a great deal to lose. le may play without danger; but Ned hesley ought to be careful." Certainly," replied the guest, rising, but I see that it has cleared off-I'll be liged to you to have my horse brought." Within ten minutes Gilbert Jordan was his way to Shenkins', chuckling at the ught of how neatly he had pumped late entertainer. About nightfall he hed the tavern, and found there the y of two, which he was so desirous of ting. Iward Chesley was a good-hearted , but thoughtless, and a little too to the wine-cup. His father, aware infirmity, was unwilling to send him the money, unless in the company of steady, reliable person. Reginald > fancy to go; Seymour, also, would have preferred remaining by the f Matilda, but he felt that as his ad already done so much in the it was incumbent on himself not e any opportunity of rendering a our played occasionally, rather in Ice with custom, and to occupy a hour, than from any love of gam ⚫ tavern, therefore, he sat down bert Jordan, as a mere affair of Young Chesley stood and looked you take a hand, Mr. Chesley ?" in. ok his head. ad better," observed Seymour: play for small stakes, so there isk.' answered Ned, but the word · been "Ill," for he yielded and y at the table. urse of an hour or two, Jordan come much interested, while Seymour was yawning, cunningly drew forth his watch. "Half-past ten," he said. "So late?" replied Seymour. "Don't you think it's bed-time, Ned?" "Yes," responded his friend, "as soon as the game is up." The game finished, Seymour exchanged his boots for a pair of slippers, and was about to start for the chamber. "Are you not thirsty, gentlemen?" observed Jordan. "Here, boy," he added, addressing the negro in attendance, "can't you get us a pitcher of fresh water from the spring?" "I don't think I shall wait for it," said Seymour. "You'll be up to bed right away, Ned, will you not?" "Yes." As soon as Seymour's steps were heard on the passage staircase, Jordan proposed to Chesley to take a little game while they waited. The young man's assent was promptly given. One game led to another. Wine was brought forth, and at a time when Seymour was calmly slumbering in the room above, the youth whom he had been charged to watch over had madly commenced to draw upon the sacred fund of which he was the bearer. Hours swept by, the victim became more and more fascinated, and at the end, having been stripped of the last of the thirtysix hundred pound notes, staggered to bed, dizzy, stupefied, and almost unconscious. In the morning, neither of the friends awoke until summoned by the servant, announcing that breakfast was ready. The scene then may be imagined. Agitated beyond measure by the information which Edward's halting tongue stammered forth, Seymour's first impulse was to rush below and seek Jordan. The successful gambler had been gone several hours. The two young men rode back sorrowful enough. When they reached Anderport, Seymour stopped, as if to enter his lodgings. Edward said, "Don't leave me, Laurence; I dare not meet my father alone." Seymour hesitated, and replied, "Ride on slowly, then, and I will overtake you." Edward, for a mile or two, was quite absorbed in thought, but after that looked they do not look forward to an abundance of pocket-money in the country for the coming winter. Many persons are surprised at the present moment, by the good price of cotton; those prices are to be attributed to several causes, which we will enumerate. First, the very large investments of capital in New England, made during the last five or six years, in manufactories, compel the employment of those manufactories, even at unremunerative prices; while, at the same time, it is not to be forgotten, that the entire continent, and the people of foreign countries, must continue, as heretofore, to purchase clothes. So much for the natural and ordinary causes of the rise in the price of cotton. If we now add, what is notorious, that the supply of lowlands cotton is unusually small, a great part of the crop having failed or been destroyed, an additional two per cent. may be added from that cause. Lastly, we have the cheapness of transportation. Merchandise can be conveyed across the ocean, at present, for prices which make navigation the least profitable investment of capital. Other causes might be added of considerable importance, such as the existence and probability of an increased foreign demand; but those enumerated are sufficient to account for the present prices. With the opening of the manufactories, the price of iron may be expected to advance in some small degree; and as we learn, from good authority, that vastly less anthracite has been mined this year than will prove sufficient for a full demand, a considerable rise in that article may be expected. Nothing can rescue the iron manufacturers from their present deplorable condition but an adequate protection. It is not generally understood how small profits the English producers of iron are contented with; the owners of furnaces, there, being generally either gentlemen of large estates, or very rich companies, they are able to export the iron which they produce, sometimes for successive years, at prices which pay only the expense of production: depending upon the home market for a steady demand, they trifle with the foreign market, and are able to exist without it. We have gone farther than we intended at the commencement into the discussion. Our first design was merely to set forth the arguments of the "Plough, Loom, and Anvil," but we have added many of our own. Want of space prevents our entering more at large upon the great and absorbing question of the cotton trade and manufacture. It is our intention to return to the subject at the earliest opportunity. A scurrilous attack has been made upon us, because of our previous article. As it is with arguments, and not with passions, that we have to do, it is unnecessary to take any farther notice of that attack, although it seems to have been written by the same commercial writer whose opinions we have been controverting. ANDERPORT RECORDS-NO. II. REGINALD, SON OF ANTHONY. CHAPTER II. RENNOE, SO unexpectedly baffled in his first effort, was forced to a complete change in his tactics. Laurence Seymour had returned, and all that could now be done was to make the best of it. A new and undesired element had been thrown into the game; it could not be neutral, and must be so managed as to contribute to final success. Miss Chesley evidently regarded the Englishman with no dislike; indeed, if she made any distinction between the two suitors, it was in his favor. Rennoe saw no other scheme so simple and so likely to have a favorable issue, as to increase this bias by every means in his power. He knew that when ever Reginald found Matilda irrevocably lost to him, disappointment and disgust would be strong persuasives to the choice of a different scene and a different life. landed, was by no means capable of meeting extraordinary demands. He must therefore borrow; but borrowing in those days was not the easiest thing accomplished. His neighbors pursued the same system of management as himself, and were not accustomed to keep large funds in hand. Thirty-six hundred pounds could nowhere be raised. The The anxiety of the family was not unobserved by Reginald, yet for awhile he seemed not to notice it, nor to be aware of the source whence it issued. At last Mr. Chesley alluded to his situation, and threw out hints before him—he was too proud to speak urgently-that no friend could do a more acceptable thing than to advance the sum so much needed. As young Ander received the information in silence, the inference was at once drawn that it was either inconvenient or impossible for him to be of any service. faces of the whole household became very gloomy. It was decided that the only alternative left was to dispose of two or three families of slaves, and how painful such a necessity is, a Southerner can unReginald, on the other side, felt con- derstand. Reginald and Matilda, in walkvinced that it was only by energetic playing together one morning, chanced to pass that he could overcome the many advantages of his handsome rival. He watched eagerly, therefore, the appearance of some opening which might enable him to interpose a skillful move. Rennoe's plan precluded any very active measures at the outset. Seymour could doubtless make love on his own account better than any one else could make it for him. Mr. Chesley had a distant connection, a wild, dissipated sort of fellow, supposed to be reformed, who, in setting up a store, had worked upon the old man's generous nature so far as to induce him to become his endorser to a heavy amount. The spendthrift cousin failed, and Mr. Chesley found himself called upon suddenly to pay three thousand six hundred pounds sterling. The planter lived fully up to his income, and his estate being chiefly VOL. IV. NO. IV. NEW SERIES. by the quarters. Matilda burst into tears, and as her companion stood gazing upon her with an air of concern, said “Excuse me, Mr. Ander; but old Nelly, my nurse, lives in that cabin, and she, too, must go into the hands of a stranger. Her sons have to be sold, and she will not be parted from them. Oh! it is terrible to think that all those familiar, honest faces must be banished." "I trust it may be dispensed with," said the young man. Matilda looked up inquiringly through her tears, and Reginald added: "I have delayed speaking till to-day, for fear of making promises which I might 23 not be able to perform. Immediately on hearing of your father's difficulty, I wrote to the overseer on my lower plantation, directing him to sell the last season's tobacco crop, which I had been reserving in the prospect of a better price. He has done so; and I am rejoiced at being now able to furnish your father with the sum he wishes." Matilda's face beamed with gratitude. Reginald felt that something was accomplished, but not enough. And all his faculties were in restless pursuit of a new and more decisive measure. Simon Rennoe learned what had been done with little gratification, but he saw no need as yet for his own interference. "She will not marry him for a loan," was his reflection. 66 Anderport received a visitor. Gilbert Jordan, a professional gambler," of rare dexterity, was otherwise a man of mark. A face of the style called gentlemanly, rich, though flashy clothing, and an easy, off-hand address, introduced him to the favorable notice of the townspeople. His hand was fair and delicate, like a lady's; his wrist small enough to be clasped with thumb and finger; but the arm above swelled rapidly towards the shoulder, and a judge of thews and sinews could discern the development of great muscular power. Indeed, Jordan had obtained a terrible celebrity for feats of prowess. Besides his expertness at pistol, knife, and rifle, and a pugilistic skill which had extricated him unscathed from many a tavern brawl, he could boast the further distinction that no single man had ever offered him a wrestling "shake" without having cause seriously to repent his temerity. Reginald had heard of the gambler, but had never seen him, when, on an afternoon in July, a heavy thunder-cloud drove him suddenly home from a ride. As he reined in his horse at the gate in front of the mansion, he noticed a man coming rapidly down the road from the opposite direction. One glance enabled him to recognize the personage who had been described to him. During the moment which was occupied in raising the latch, a thought shot through his mind, and turning towards the road, he called to the stranger, and invited him to take refuge in the house from the threatened No, sir." "I should think," rejoined the gambler, "that in the country here you would find yourselves compelled to resort to cards in order to pass away the time." "It might be so, if the weather every day were such as it is now; but when the sun is shining, and a man has out-of-door sports open to him, I see little amusement in bending over a parcel of bits of painted pasteboard." "But in travelling, though," suggested Jordan, "how dull it is to spend long evenings counting the flies on a tavern window!" "Yes," said Reginald, "and therefore I hate to travel. Young Edward Chesley (who has some money to take for his father down to St. John's) invited me yesterday to go with him, but I declined. He afterwards persuaded Mr. Seymour, I think, to be his companion." There was a peculiar expression in the gambler's eye, and Reginald observing that he had taken the bait, added-" Such a tedious journey as that now, might well need to be relieved by some excitement.” "I should think so, too," replied the other. "When did you say Mr. Chesley started, sir?" "This morning; but the shower must prevent them from getting further than Shenkins' to-day." "I have business at Shenkins' myself," said Jordan, walking to the window. "It's rather a gloomy sort of place," remarked Reginald," and I doubt not my friends will be glad of your company. You will not get Ned Chesley to play with you, however." 66 Why not?" asked Jordan, quickly. "Oh, he's rather a wild fellow sometimes, to be sure, and is easily excited by wine; but he never plays, and, indeed, ought to be particularly careful at this |