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"WE GO WHERE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES POINT THE WAY; WHEN THEY CEASE TO LEAD, WE CEASE TO FOLLOW."
' ' . - . ...-; i - . . .
BY JOHN G. GIVEN. EL5ENSBURG, THURSDAY, MAY 17, 1819. VOL. 5. NO. 32.
SEL ECT TALE.
From Scott's Weekly Baper.
l.YTILL XEYER MARRY A MECIU.MC.
BY LILLE LILBERXE.
Y that have felt the power of thought,
The fever of the mind,
With spirit delicately wrought
With fear and feeiiug 'twined
Art ever alive to every thtoe,
To burning bliss, and wilderinj wo.
Catherine Cameron was alone in her
chamber. There were tears in the beau
tiful eyes that lay bowed on the cold hands.
Tbe conversation of the last hour had call
ed up thoughts and feelings and memories
not soon forgotten. She had gone back
far into the mocking Past, blie was
tiinVmr nf thp time when she, a child of
ten. accompanied he parents to the very
TJf whprp she now resided her uncle
Emerson's. . -
She had stolen away, from her mother's
side and rone upon deck to hnd her lather.
She did not see him. but "still remained
watching the wild waves, the Hushing foam
and the blue restless waters. All had left
the spot, she thought she stood alone, but
close by her side leaned a youth pale and
sick. His dress was a plain but costly
and his features told that it hid
fmm n vipw a smitten heart. And there
she still stood, with brow and neck uncov
ered, save by the long ungathercd ringlets
with which the quivering breeze was sport
ing, and her small white hands clasping
and playing with a small cut glass cologne
bottle round wnicn sne nau ueu &umc uiuu
rihhnnq. and knew not with what eager
intensity- the Dale young stranger was re
garding her. She heard a deep sigh, and
turning quickly around beheld the delicate
vouth staggering to a seat, winch he reacn
ed and fell fainting upon it.
With childish eagerness she flew to his
side, and pouring the contents of the flu
ted phial on her handkerchief, bathed his
cold brow and hollow tempies. .inu as
- she pushed back the rich clusters of dark
hair, and met his large and strangely faci-
nating eye, melting with melancholy, and
touched with tenderness, she almost shrank
from the singular beauty of the being her
drops were fast restoring.
-in flow, sweet tone, and with a quiver
ing lip, he thanked her for her opportune
attentions, and bent his aching brow upon
her bared arm. The ice had fled, for the
hmln u-9i humino- with a wild fever fire.
And the hot tears, like drops & flame
rolled down and fell upon the folds of her
dress, and hers too, the while, were flash
ing quickly and heavily among them.
Moments passed. She had forgotten all
but the suffering and afflicted youth.
Mv child, how came you here;
Avhat ia the matter!' Mr. Cameron
tust discovered his daughter.
Catharine started. The stranger sprang
i attempted to apologize, but
he fell upon the arm of Mr. Cameron, and
his voice was lost, and pressed his white
baud upon his heart as if the pain was
Several gentlemen came up; all seem3d
deferentially attentive, and offered to con
duct him below. With a sweet smile he
thanked them, and said he should be com
pelled to accept the offered kindness as he
felt faint and sick, but trusted he would
soon be better.
And Catharine still stood there, one
hand in her father's, and gazing on . the
sick stranger with anxious curiosity. He
turned one more glance to her as he was
moving away. Oh how softened and
saddened! And the pale blood struggled
to his temple. Catharine bent her eyes
on the rich fancy bottle she still held in her
hand. ; A fe w drops were left of the perfu
' med contents. She started forward, weep
ing -with pitying, earnestness, while the
large tears lay upon the long lashes.
Take this, please take this, sir the
cologne will help you.'
God bless you, child!' were the falter
ing words, as he took the simple offering,
and grasped for a nionient the fair fingers
that presented it. : 'God bless you.' -
Catharine still stood gazing at him.
Mr. Cameron led his daughter below,
and she heard him say a few hours after
wards; when they were landing, that the
stranger was on his way to a foreign port,
and mat he was now in a high' fever. j .
Often, oh how often, had Catherine
Cameron thought of this, but never to mor
tal beiig had she told it.;: And now, it all
came up as an event of yesterday. She
was a child. She stood by 'the sick
youth's side, .and bathed his brow. She
started. - Perhaps that brow - was cold in
- the -grave,- or lay bleeching beneath the
Atlantic's i waters.. Shi felt again upon
' her arm'the hot and flame-like breath; she
felt the flashing, fearful fire of his veins;
she felt that last burning pressure upon her
hand and upon her heart." .The past and
the present were all struggling there, and
the future. And the world called her cold
and unfeeling. Little did it know her.
She was not perhaps beautiful, and attract- j
ed little notice, little attention: vou jraze
upon her face when in repose, and you
would not care for a second look. -But
speak to her. Let her lift her deep be-
lldenng eye to yours; watch the blush
upon her cheek, the flush upon her lip, and
the charm-like, changeful expression of
every feature,, and you would beh , i ir.
Catharine Cameron a strange spir,i-sur-
ring, spiritual loveliness, with the hue, of
heaven upon her brow, and its luring lovw
light in her eye. Most keenly she felt I
the world s coldness and neglect, but all too
proud to heed it. Her sufferings were all
in her own high heart; none knew of them,
nor would they, though it broke with its
many miseries. She would have scorned
attentions, the simpathy, she would have
spurned the heart that was not freely off
ered. .Woman's heart is a proud, and
gentle and delicate thing. Crush it not.
Cold and calm can the seeming he,
Though the brain be all on tire. .
Proud and passionless, and free;
Though the heart be a haunted lyre;
Whose every string is a struggling thought,
A link of liht in Heaven wrought.
The Springs were crowded with visi
tors. Lawrence and Clinton Courtland
were not there when our little party arri
ved. Days passed and they came.
Their arrival created quite a' sensation, or
that of the famed Lawrence did; the many
had heard of him, and were prepared to
pay him every attention, and to win his
favor and boast of his friendship. He
came in his own - princely carriage, -' and
his mechanic cousin with him. The aris
tocracy sought the gentleman at a glance,
and were prepared to pay him due hom
age; while Clinton stood by dejected and
.Edgar found an opportunity to introduce
them to his sister and cousin, and in such
a manner as left them in doubt as to which
was the scholar and which the mechanic.
No! not in doubt, Alia knew instantly
which was" the hero of her dreams; and
the gay, easy, nonchalant, polished gentle
man with the brown hair, and hazel eyes,
and white brow-was Lawrence Courtland.
She knew it was, and yet asked her broth
er when alone with him and Catherine, if
it was not. Edgar smiled provokingly,
and said: ' 1 hat it she had not penetra
tion enough to detect the gentleman from
the mechanic, he should not inform her.
Alia was vexed at his perverseness, but he
was not to be moved, and the more anx
ious she became, and the more she said
the more unmercifully he rallied her for
her woman's curiosity. -
But not long was she left to conjecture
All, like her, knew instinctively which was
the one to whom devout deference should
be paid, and all crowded to get a view of
him. This, apparendy seemel no new
thing to him, lor it did not move him in
the least, and the homage and adulation
bestowed, he took as a matter of course,
but with the most graceful courtesy and
winning politeness. - .;
There, Fdgar, I w as right,' Alia uttered
with a triumphant expression. I knew 1
could tell, and have,' and here the young
man turned away his head, perhaps to
conceal his vexation perhaps ; to hide a
smile, and said ; . Y
But I did not sav you .were mistaken,
did I sis?'
No, not exactly. ; But then you gave
me credit for very little sagacity, I fancy .
For quite as much as 1 do now,' was
the indifferent rejoinder-
And yet you .were . not willing to ac
knowledge it though. But see, brother I
am not a fool yet.'
O, 1 hope not,' was the dry reply, 'on
ly at times, not quite as wise as you think
yourself.' . ' . . -
'Perhaps not; but I have come off" con
queror here, so I do not care.' ' .
. What, you have not made a conquest
of Lawrence's heart already, Edgar re
plied with much surprise. .
'No! how annoying, how provoking you
are you know very well what I mean.'
. Yes, and I know. very well that Law
rence Courdand will never have such a
fantastic thing as my sister is. He would
fear that his mechanic cousin .would not
be received beneath his roof with friendly
warmth,' and Edgar said this with more
severity than he was wont to assume, and
lefttheroom. , -,
Alia bit her lip at the last remark, and
spoke with Ul concealed bitterness, .
'Edgar need - not trouble himself, as I
shall never look so high as the one cousin,
or so low, as the other.
Catharine had not spoken during the
colloquy, but ' sat looking out of the win
dow, with her aching head upon her hand,
and with what busy memories at her burn
ing, breaking heart. .
The pale, melancholly,' neglected me
chanic intafrested her more that words can
tell. They had met before, but he knew it
not she did not wish him to. The se
cret was all her own. His image had
been sh rined in her deep heart for years.
And m agic memory was busy there. -rli
awrence Courtland was a favorite,
both with managing mammas and . mar
riageable daughters. , The mothers' , dis
played their wealth the daughters their
laces and graces. The gendeman too,
sought his society, though they en vied him
the homage he seemed so wholly careless
of. No walk, or ride, or ball could be"
, omplete without him. He was the star,
. ? lion, the life of every circle; He dress-
expensively, yet. negligently. But
.at if his rich cravat was half untied, or
half turned round; or his cosdy coat dusty,
or his fine linen handkerchief soiled, or
his gloves torn, or his redundant curls dis
arranged; what mattered it was ne not
a gentleman, a scholar the Fashion; and
Fashion has a ngbt to be audacious. And
there were not a few awkard attempts at
imitation. And no one lady seemed to
captivate his attention. He was polite
and gracious to all. He would ride with
one, walk with another, talk with a third,
waltz with a fourth, sing with a fifth, and
promenade with a sixth, and so with the
And Alia Emerson, she fearfully felt his
facination, sometimes he paid her the most
exclusive attentions, aud then he seemed
cold and distant, and forgetful, until his
neglect saddened the young heart that had
begun to love. Alas! for Alia Emerson.
Why should she think of him. But then
Edgar was his friend. O Hope, why
would ye mock trusting!
O, Hope, be still thy whisperings,
Mock, not the breaking heart,
Send not ihine angel clothed in light.
To act a Judas' part.
Betray not with that kindling kiss,
And thrill the soul with fearful bliss.
And leave it thus all bruised and bare,
To a future fraught with dark despair.
And what of the mechanic. He passed
on amid the crowd unknown and unno
ticed, and uncared for. And not yet
wholly. Edgar was often by his side,
Lawrence, too seemed anxious to serve
him. But he sought not the society or
the attentions of any one. He might be
all too proud for that.
Yet he dressed with the most fastideous
elegance, and his every movement was of
polished grace, his every word was music.
And the only lady to which he paid any
attention, was Catharine Cameron, and
she perhaps was the only one that would
have received it so cordially. Perhaps
she pitied him so neglected: perhaps she
found his society interesting. Perhaps
there was a hidden,' holy facination that
heart to heart can only offer. Perchance
in his tall and symetrical form she saw on
ly its even grace. May be that in Clinton
Courtland, she discovered an intelligent,
refined, learned and lovely acquaintance.
It might be that there were garnered the
mighty might of mind, the glorious germs
and gems of genius, lie sought the com
panionship of none, and yet there were
times -when he evidently wished to enter
into conversation with the fair sister of his
friend Edgar, but the desire seemed not re
ciprocated, for Alia, though she treated
him with civilty, was cold, and distant, and
haughty- more than she was really aware
of. ' ' ' .
And Lawrence had without a seeming
single effort, won' her proud heart: and
would she have loved him the less were
he a mechanic? She felt with pain that
he was far above her, and that many ladies
at the Springs were her superiors in birth,
wealth and attainments. And yet she
counted over every attention she had re
ceived from him, and compared them with
those he had lavished on others. The
balance was in her favor: and yet he was
sometimes so cold and neglectful. Would
he ever did he really feel an interest in
her? no! he was only a gay gallant, dispen
sing his words and his smiles, and his flat
teries to the many.
Beneath the coldest seeming,
May throb a heart of flame;
Beneath the eye's proud gleaming,
Are feelings naught can tame.
Beneath the lips bright beaming, .
f - Is, wo without 'a name,
And with the spirits dreaming,.
Are suffering right, and fame. '
'I would never marry a mechanic.'
This was said by Alia Emerson to a dozen
or two of the most fastidious fashionables
at the. springs: and ere the' words wpw
htvhoHy, spoken, Edgar and Lawrence
Courtland entered the splendid apartment'
They were conversing, in a . low tone, and
a smile was on the lip of each;: and as the
oft repeated remark fell upon the brother's
ear, the glad smile turned to a mischievous
expression, but that on the lip of Court
land faded wholly" awav; but assuming
an animated manner he said,'.
And why not marry a mechanic, Miss
tmersonr' Alia was . a little confused.
She thought of his own attachment to his
cousin,' and feared he might be hurt or dis
pleased; yet she answered, - 'Y
f Oh, because because I don't know.
Let me answer for you, Sis, 6aid Ed
gar, archly. It is only a foolish, idle
predjudice of hers that a mechanic can
riot be a gentleman, refined, social and in
telligent.' Lawrence forced a smile, and
rjoined, - :
'But is not my cousin all this?' But
Alia was not to be argued out of her whim
and she returned laughing, r
Well I do not know I have not heard
him speak since he was here, and, there
fore, Mr. Courtland, you will excuse, I
think, my not passing judgment on him.
Lawrence bit his lip and only added,
True. I know he's rather reserved,
but a nobler, loftier heart never throbbed
fMany a beautiful belle tossed her head
didainfully, and said something disparag
ingly of the working classes, and many an
avtocrat brother, and aristocratic mother
climed in, in chorus, and Courdand would
playfully and eloquendy ward off every
otjectional observation; and even the timid
Catharine put in a word almost uncon
sciously. . -
11 would rather be the sister of the hon
est daily laborer, than the jewelled,, and
pimpered, and flattered relative of the
pirse proud parasite of Fashion, or the
biide of a power-loving, power-dispensing
Prince.' . . v
j A sarcastic smile was on many a fair
lip, and the pale speaker saw it and felt it.
Leaving her seat, she sat down by the open
window that overlooked a spacious piazza.
And there, on a low bench, not two feet
from the casement, sat Clinton Courtland,
with a half-closed volume in one hand and
hfe flushed temple leaning on the other,
and evidently listening with careless inter
est. Not purposely had he placed him
self there, and perhaps he did not deem it
a duty to withdraw. Lawrence and L.d-
gir had left him there when they came in,
bit he preferred remaining alone with his
thoughts; alone with his book.
r The slight noise that Caroline made in
changing her seat caused him to lift his
eyes. I hey met her gentle, Kind com
miserating glance fixed earnestly, tenderly
upon him. A deeper flush passed over
his white brow, and with a faint smile and
graceful bow, he arose and walked away.
Catharine had met the charm of those dark
and beautiful eyes, and she thought that
tears were there, mingling with the proud,
rich light in their deep depths.
1 It was almost the evening hour. The
spacious apartments were well nigh de
serted, and still Catharine Cameron sat by
that same window, evidendy watching the
glorious golden sunset. - A tall, slight lorm
darkened the hushed recess, and Clinton
Courdand seated himself beside her.
You are sad to-night, Miss Cameron,'
he remarked in a melancholy tone.
Ami?' she asked, striving to rally her
scattered thoughts, and then added, and
yet, methinks, it is an hour in which we
should not indulge in sorrowful reflections
but should rather be thankful, be grateful
to the Giver of every gift for the beautiful
world around us, and for all life's bless-
That world in which there is no cold
ness, deceit, hypocrisy and envy,' Court
land responded, with some bitterness.
Catharine sighed. She knew he was
thinking of that day's conversation; and
after a lew moment's pause Clinton again
Do you think it possible, Miss Came
ron, that tne preuj unices 01 your cousin
could be overcome? Are they owing to
an incorrect education, or obstinacy.'
Catharine grew pale. A sudden pain
pierced her heart. And did he love Alia?
And yet she replied with desperate calm
ness, , ,
I do not know; yet I think they might
be eradicated. Alia is a lovely girl. N one
need fear to trust their happiness in her
hands. Hers is no common mind. And
and perhaps you you'
I understand you, Miss Cameron,' Clin
ton answered,' smiling, and fixing his deep
eye on her bent brow, bnt you misunder
stand me I shall never be a candidate
for the heart and hand of Miss Emerson,
deserving though she be, and were I assu
red of success. Edgar is my friend, and
I respect the sister -nothing more. But I
do not feel interest enough there to lead
me to combat her false prepossesions. I
do not presume so high. And yet, lady,
have I not one champion 'mong all this
gay and giddy crowd? ; -
Catharine blushed as she recollected the
remark that had, hours before, escaped her
lips,' and changed the subject."
Why fear if be U there, ' -Though
danger cometh near?' -What
do I -care for the curiou stare.
And the scornful air
The worlding may chance to wear? .
I would heed it not, if in his heart
I felt ssturcd I had a part-
Lawrence Courtland's splendid horses
and carriage were at the springs, and they
were often in requisition. The noonday
sun shone upon a brilliant party Lawrence
had invited to ride to a cave some miles
from the Hotel. The ground was rough
and uneven, and precipices were on either
side. But the sky had darkened, and a
fearful flash of lightning lay twinkling in
their path, and the, heavy, reverberating
thunder startled the spirited steeds. A
second, a third, and they became frighten
ed, unmanageable, and despite the driver's
every effort, they were trying to wheel
about in a narrow pass, lined with yawn
ing gulfs and frightful ledges, and they were
on the very verge.
Clinton was the first to sec the danger,
and flinging open the door, said with ner
Do not attempt to follow me, any of
you; the least confusion will only frighten
the animals more; and springing from the
vehicle, he stood by the side of the foam
ing chargers, and caught one of the leaders
by the bit. The horse, impatient and
fiery, and frightened, wrenched the rein
from his grasp, and tossing his head high
in the air, made a furious effort to turn and
retrace his steps, while not three feet from
the carriage wheels lay a dark and fearful
declivity. A scream of anguish was heard
from the ladies from all save Catharine;
even the bright brow of Lawrence was
overcast, as he watched the fearless con
duct of his cousin. A sudden pain caused
Clinton tor a moment to lay his hand on
his side, as he called the maddened steeds
by name and tried to soothe them. It
was a familiar name and they stopped;
their fears were calmed, and while every
limb of the lofty animals quivered with
the o'ermastering consciousness of safety,
they bent their stately heads to the shoul
der of that daundess mechanic. Ha hfted
his arm and buried it in the dark mane of
one of the panting steeds, and an arrowy
pang shot through his wrist. It was al
The driver had dismounted, and Law
rence had joined them; and grasping the
hand of his cousin, said in a low voice,
You have saved us all!'
Clinton's pale lip faded as he withdrew
his hand, and the pain in his arm deepen
ed; and to avoid a repetition of thanks
from others that now stood by them, said,
turning to the servant of Lawrence,
As the horses are so fearful and furious,
I will drive round to the Hotel, if you will
permit,' he added, addressing the rich
owner with a faint smile; and he gathered
up the fallen reins.
iAs you please, Lawrence replied.
You will do it much better than I will.
I am too careless an animal to drive a
horse.' And the party were again seated
in the carriage.
Clinton raised his foot to the step, and
quickly withdrawing it wound his hand
kerchief hastily round his wrist.
What is the matter?' Lawrence asked,
with some anxiety. Your arm is swollen
you have dislocated it.
I think not, was the reply. My wrist
may be slightly sprained. It i3 not wholly
And yet you cannot drive' And the
flushed lip of the gay gallant was clouded.
I will attempt, it, however,' the other
returned, as he leaped lightly into the dri
James, you may sit inside.' and Law
rence addressed his servant, 4I shall
mount the box with my cousin.'
To the great disappointment of many
a fair lady within,' Clinton whispered, as
his companion sat down beside him.
Courdand smiled; and said carelessly.
Even vanity might have suggested this.
For me, think you, for me?' the cousin
asked somewhat biltcrly.
Yes, if but no matter now. Your
wrist pains you; I will relieve you any
Not much. I believe the horses know
me almost as well as they do their master.'
I do not think you need complain of
any disobedience on their part;' and he
bent his head in thought,
My heart, my heart is with the Past,
My thoughts, my thought are here,
O how this thrilling, truthful talo
Hath called up hope and lear. . -
A physician had examined the arm of
Courdand, and pronounced it only a sprain,
and applied such remedies as would 6crvc
to relieve the pain. He had taken a seat
in the crowded saloon, and was poring
over a paper. The storm had cleared
away, and the laugh, the son; and the jest
went round, but he heeded it not. Law
rence approached and stood close by his
side, and as he bent his eye on the paper,
spake. ' 1" -
What have you found there so intens
ely interesting? One of Dr. Warren's
terrible tales? No as I live, 'tis Dombey
and Son.' Why, 1 thought you deemed
Dickens dull and prosy, despite his re
As the mechanic lifted his eyes, they
met the sweet, sympathizing glance of
Catharine. There were tears there
there were tears in his, too; and ere he had
time to reply to his cousin, he resumed.
But how is your wrist now? Is the
pain intense?' Clinton laid aside his pa
per. No, it is almost well,' was uttered in a
subdued tone, and rising, passed his arm
through that of his companion, and they
left the room together. Catharine chan
ged her seat, and took up the paper Court
land had been perusing. And there wa
Dickens' beautiful and touching descrip
tion of Florence in the sick chamber of
her brother, -little Paul. And this had
called up sad feelings and painful remem
brances, for more than once had she seen
his blanched lip quiver while he was rea
ding. Perhaps he had thus hovered near
the death bed of some loved one.
Oh, ask me not to tho festal dome,
I dare nut, cannot go,
WLero music, merriment and mirth
Are mocking hearts of wo
In the evening there was a brilliant ball.
Catharine did not wish to attsnd, and had
retired to her chamber. Thither Edgar
sought her, and so strenously insisted upon
her joining the dancors, that to gratify him
she consented. She was ready, and he
had called for her.
Arrayed in a robe of fauldess fineness,
whose silvered satin folds floated around
he; fairy form like softened sunlight; and
like a lovely ministering angel, indeed,
she looked as she threaded the lighted and
deserted corridors, leaning on the arm cf
her cousin. They both stated. A groan
fell upon their ears. It came from a cham
ber they were passing. Edgar looked at
the trembling being by his side.
This this is Couitland's room, he
said pushing open the door with her hand
still resting in his. A shudder passed
through the frame of each, for there, on
the bed, lay Clinton Courtland, apparently
lifeless. Edgar sprang to his side, and
gazed with agony cn the faded features of
He breathes, he said. Thank hea
ven, he breathes! Stay here, Catharine,
while I go for a physician.
She needed not to be told again. Thera
lay the unconscious form of hi in she loved.
Half fainting she bent over him. She
took his passive hand in hers it was cold
as death. She pushed back the tangled
hair from his damp brow, and pressed her
quivering lips upon it, and murmured in
lowest whispering his name there. A
faint flush flashed to the cold forehead.
Was it illusion? Was he recovering? He
was conscious, though he had not the pow
er to move scarcely to breathe. And O!
what sweet, deep dreams rushed to hia
tried heart. It must be a dream it was
too heaven-like to last.
Catharine turned to tho table for some
restorative. There there stood that choice
richly chased Cologne botde, with the fa
ded blue ribbons still around it, tied as
they were theri.
And docs he still cherish this," she
thought this token this relic? as she
poured its contents upon her embroidered
handkerchbf, and bathed his death-white
brow with a quivering hand.-
There was one long, deep respiration,
and the white lips of the sick man were
crimsoned with blood. With the perfu
med linen her fair fingers held, she wiped
it away; but the warm life-tide still flowed
there. She knew he had ruptured a
blood vessel, and it was all owing to that
Good heavens! what if hs should dis
ere Edgar returned or the
One low, wild wail of agony, and she
lifted his faint head upon her bared arm,
while the while flowers that lay among
careless curls had fallen, wilted and stain
ed in the lingering life-current that oozed
from the haliushed heart of that prostrate
one, at her fect and among the light white
folds of ' her dazzling dress, and h-r hot
tears mingled with the fevered blood she
tried to staunch!
TO BE CONTINUED. f
kPAn evangelical old lady, hearing her
son slip out an oath on Sundaj, exclaim- ,
ed, My dear, what arc you adout? What
do you think of the law and the proph-.
ets?' What do I think of them?' said he,
why I th'nk the law pockets te profits'
,. 1 "
Ta J n.Arnnt rnill inrn-int 4 si Vtsa
defendant?' inquired a lawyer of his client.
I did your honor.' And what did he
say?' 'He told me to go to the deviL'
And what aid you do tnenr mv ny.tnen
I came to you.' , - . .
' An exchange, in a puff of a mercantile
firm, says, that they are determined to
sell their goods, if they have to give thrrn