the deceptions of the tongue might forever conceal. All this, we are aware,
may pass as a mere supposition; yet we think its correctness will be very
generally attested by officers of justice, policemen, jailers, and all
those who have had much experience in the detection of crime.

But, whether the doctrine is applicable or not in the generality of cases,
it was certainly so in that of the unbidden guest whose appearance we have
attempted to describe. Unlike Elwood, he had character, but all those who
closely noted him were made to feel that his character was a dark and
dangerous one.

After Gaut, for such he was called among his acquaintance, had leisurely
run his eye from window to window of the many lighted apartments of the
house, and scanned, as he did, with many a sneering smile, the appearances
within, as long as suited his pleasure, he boldly walked in, and, with all
the assurance of the most favored, proceeded to mingle with the company.

On quitting his lookout, Elwood repaired to the reception-room, where Mrs.
Elwood, the mistress of the mansion, was already in waiting, nerving
herself to perform, as acceptably as she could, her part of the stereotyped
ceremony of receiving the guests, and exchanging with them the salutations
and commonplaces of the evening. Mrs. Elwood, though not beautiful, nor
even handsome, was yet every way a comely woman; and the quiet dignity and
the unpretending simplicity of her manner, together with a certain
intelligent and appreciating cast of countenance, which always rested on
her placid, features, seldom failed to impress those who approached her
with feelings of kindness and respect. She looked pale and fatigued, from
the labors and anxieties she had gone through in the preparations for the
present occasion; and, in addition to this, which is ever the penalty to
the mistress of the house in getting up a large party, there was an air of