the slightest deviation from the strictest rule of discipline brings
condign punishment upon the head of the offender.






CHAPTER V.

MR. GRIMSHAW, THE MAN OF THE COUNTY.





ON the 22d of March last, about ten o'clock in the morning, a thin,
spare-looking man, dressed in a black cashmeret suit, swallow-tail
coat, loose-cut pants, a straight-breasted vest, with a very
extravagant shirt-collar rolling over upon his coat, with a black
ribbon tied at the throat, stood at the east corner of Broad and
Meeting street, holding a very excited conversation with officers
Dusenberry and Dunn. His visage was long, very dark--much more so
than many of the colored population--with pointed nose and chin,
standing in grim advance to each other; his face narrow, with high
cheek-bones, small, peering eyes, contracted forehead, reclining
with a sunken arch between the perceptive and intellectual
organs--or, perhaps, we might have said, where those organs should
have been. His countenance was full of vacant restlessness; and as
he stared at you through his glasses, with his silvery gray hair