In him I recognised one of those abandoned natures who shrink from all honest labour, and live upon the sacrificial fondness of some weak being who has been enslaved by their personal attractions.

There are many such.

I have met them in the _jardins_ of Paris; in the _casinos_ of London; in the cafes of Havanna, and the "quadroon" balls of New Orleans--everywhere in the crowded haunts of the world.

I have met them with an instinct of loathing--an instinct of antagonism.
"The fellow is likely to be our captain," whispered Clayley, noticing that I observed the man with more than ordinary attention.

"By the way," continued he, "I don't half like it.