Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, October 20, 1886, Image 1
lewis m. grist, proprietor, j %n Jfnbepcnbmi Jfamilj fUfospapcr: Jor % ^romofion of % political, jSotial, ^griralhtral anb Commtrrial laftrtsfs of fjjt Souflj. j terms?$2.50 a year, in advance.
. ~YQL, 33. *" ~ YOBKYILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY. OCTOBER SO,. 1886. ISTO. 42.
Jwal
FIYE MILLION POUNDS.
By T. WEMVSS KKID.
CHAPTER IX?Continued.
A STRANGE VOYAGE.
"My God!" he cried, iu an agitated voice,
while be advanced and took my hand, "he
has not been lying, as I hoped might be the
case! And you have been here?a prisoner?
ever since we sailed! This is monstrous! Ob,
if I had only known! But come?come at
once, my poor fellow, and let me give you
back your liberty!"
"Ah, doctor," I cried, in a tone the feebleness
of which startled even myself, "how I
have longed for you! I knew that you
would save me if you could."
"My dear fellow, dont exhaust yourself," he
said, still visibly agitated. He placed his arm
x round my waist,, and drawing me "gently out
of that black prison in which 1 had endured
so much, led me into the main saloon of the
.* v yacht. The flood of light dazzleJ my eyes;
the sound of human voioes after that long
spell of silence made all my nerves quiver.
There was a mist before my sight, a buzzing
In my ears, and a sensation of choking in my
throat
But Branksome was as skillful as he was
gentle and sympathetic.
"Lie down here;" and as he spoke he laid
me on one of the soft couche3 of the saloon.
"Good C4odl how you have suffered! Here,
take this," and he almost forced a restorative
of tome sort down my throat There
was some one standing beside him whom I
now recognized as Fosdyke. He had a look
of deep pity on his face?nay, it was almost
ore of horror and incredulity. I saw the
same expression on the face of the captain of
the yacht and of a steward, who were also
in the saloon. They seemed quite overcome
s at the contemplation of the crime of which I
had been the victim. I cast my eyes round
the beautiful apartment, and to my relief
saw that the hateful Fiinter was not among
those present
Very quickly I recovered my strength and
composure so far as to be able to give Branksome
and the solicitor an account of all that
had happened to me since I received the note
inviting me to go on board the yacht
"That note?have you got it?" said Branksome,
eagerly. He was manifestly resolved
to know the whole truth regarding my abduction.
I handed it to him.
"Ah, it is Flutter's handwriting. But,
captain, how come it tlyit you never mentjnnod
until thf? mnmincr that Mr. Fenton
* bad been on board the yacht on the morning
that we sailed'" He turned with a haughty
look upon the captain, a plain, matter-offact
seaman with a somewhat bloated face.
More than ever was I impressed by the sense
of power which seemed to distinguish Branksome
in all that he said and did.
"Why, sir," returned the seaman in manifest
embarrassment, "I "was told that the
gentleman had left the ship In one of the
shore boats, besides?well; to tell the whole
truth upon my honor, sir, Mr. Flinter said I
was not to mention anything about it to
you. He said as how this gentlemap was no
longer friends with the master and that you
would be displeased if you knew he had been
aboard."
"Eshawl" cried Branksome, impatiently.
^Boould almost believe that the whole of you
, were in a conspiracy aeainst Mr. Fenton,
and against me also. The chief steward
knew that Flinter was supplying food to Mr.
Fenton, and never sai 1 a word to me, simply
because he bad allowed himself to believe
that the poor fellow was ill, and that for
some reason of his own he did not wish his
presence on board the ship (o be known.
Why, great heavens! he might have been
kept a prisoner forever, so far as any of the
ship's officers were concerned. I never heard
of such stupidity. If I had not accidentally
mentioned Mr. Fenton's name to you, captain,
half an hour ago, and if you had not in
consequence ashed if I was speaking of the
gentleman who came aboard the day we
sai'el, God knows how long this outrage
might have continued."
Dr. Branksome spoke with warmth and
indignation. The firm mouth was angrily
compressed, and his eyes gave emphasis to
all he said. I felt that I had found a protector
and a champion. At a sign from him
the captain and steward left the saloon, and
I found myself alone with the doctor and
Fosdyke.
"I have hardly recovered from the shock
causeu uy toe aiscovery 01 your conuuiou,
said the former. "Indeed I bad no tb ought
when I heard of your being in confinement
save instantly to release you. I have not,
therefore, had time as yet to get the whole
truth out of Flinter as to his extraordinary
and abominable behavior. Of course I shall
do so, and you may depend upon my calling
him sternly to account for an outrage
which has brought him within the reach of
the criminal law. That is so, I think, Mr.
Fosdyke."
"Certainly!" replied the lawyer. "I
should say that there never was a clearer
case of abduction in this world. Mr. Fenton,
if he chooses to prosecute, may undoubtedly
send Mr. Flinter to jail for a couple of
years at least"
"May I ask," continued Branksome,
"whether you are able to account to yourself
in any way for this unheard of procedure?"
He looked earnestly at me, and evidently
awaited my reply with interest
"I have formed a theory," I said, "but I do
not know that I ought to name it in the
presence of a third person."
"Oh, pray consider Fosdyke as being on
the same footing as ourselves. So far as you
are concerned, he knows everything."
There was no mistaking the emphasis with
which the lasi word was spoken.
"Then I shall tell you exactly what it is
that I have thought during my long and
weary confinement I believe that Mr. Mauleverer
is deeply offended because I have
venture 1 to pay my addresses to his niece,
and anxious to get me, for a time, at least,
out of her way, has arranged this outrage
with Flinter."
Branksome looked puzzled for a moment
It was evident that the idea was one that
had not occurred to him before He shook
his head slowly.
"I cannot believe that the affair has been
brought about in the way you describe
My poor friend Mauleverer is, I know, in a
very curious state of mind at present, and
be might do desperate things in one of those
fits of desperate passion which have visited
him recently, and which, I think, are connected
with some obscure disease of the
brain. But I should be slow to suppose that
he could ever stoop to that which is neither
more nor less than actual crime. You have
never yourself seen any reason to suppose
that he would be guilty of such conduct?"
"I? Certainly not. In all my personal
relations with Mr. Mauleverer, up to the
moment when he wrote the note in which
he dismissed me from his house, I have bai
nxrafTT ranonn tr? fpal t.hftfc ho U'Ai nun of fha
kindest of men. But you know that both
you and?and?Daisy have thought him
greatly changed of late."
"True, true! and it is possible that, after
all, he may have forgotten himse.f in the
way you supposed; though I still think you
are mistaken."
"As for Flinter," I continued, "mark my
words, doctor! that man is a villain who is
capable of anything. I should not care to
trust my life in his hands, and if you are
wise you will cease all connection with him
as soon as possible."
"I don't wonder at your expression," replied
Branksome, "but at the same time I can
hardly think so badly of F.inter as you naturally
do. Howover, I shall examine him
at once, and make him reveal ihe whole
truth, whatever it may be."
He was going to leave the saloon for the
purpose of seeing the man from whom I had
suffered so much, when I stopped him.
"Forgive me!" I said, "but I am quite in
the dark as to where we are. The yacht has
been at sea now for ten days, but lor all I
know to the contrary we may still be within
a mile of Scarborough."
"No,we have not bem standing still," he replied,
with a smile. "\\ e are at thif moment
nearing the town of Bodo, on the coast of
Norway. You have been carried away up
into the Arctic regions during your painful
sojourn in the duke's punishment celL "
He hurriedly left the sa.oou where F03dyke
remained with me. The lawyer explained
that the trip to Bodo was a business
one, connected with one of the numerous
European investments of Mauleverer. At
the same time he strongly advised me to
take legal proceedings against Flinter.
"There is not a jury in England tut would
give you swinging damage," ho declared;
and I quite agreed with him that tha damages
were due to me.
But e -en as we were talking of this Branksome
returned. He was pale and his face
wore an expression of the utmost gravity.
"My friend," he said, "I grieve to have to
say that you were right in your suspicions.
Benjamin F1 inter has proved to me by documentary
evidence that in treating you in
this infamous fashion he was nothing more
than the agent, the tool of our revered friend
Mauleverer. Alas! it is incomprehensible
that a man whose whole life was once so full
of goodness should have resorted to lawlessness
like this. There is only one explanation
of it"
He tapped his forehead significantly as he
uttered the last words.
CHAPTER X.
TERRIBLE NEWS.
Although I had all along believed this to
be the true account of the outrage of which
I had bean the victim, it wai not altogether
pleasant to have my suspicion confirmed.
My thoughts flew instantaneously to Daisy,
shut ud in the hall with a man who was
either a desperate criminal or insane.
"Doctor," I said earnestly, "I have no wish
to punish Mr. M uleverer for the cruel trick
he has played upon ma Even if there were
no other reason for sparing him, the fact
that he is Daisy's uncle would be sufficient.
But I am terribly anxious about her. Has
she no friend with her at Great Lorton? Is
it not dangerous for her to remain alone
with a man in Mauleverer's state of mind!"
"She is not alone," replied Branksome. "I
thought I had told you that her old friend
and companion, Mrs Cawthorne, who accompanied
her to England, tad joined her
at the hall Sin was visiting in Derbyshire
at the time when Mr. Mauleverer wa, at
Scarborough."
I remembered to have heard Daisy speak
of this lady in the warmest terms of affection.
and I felt thankful that there was at
least one person near her of her own sex, in
whom she could confide.
"It is a sad business, I fear," pursued
Branksome. "I have not told yon yet of all
that happened after yon left us so suddenly.
Tell me, my friend: did Mr. Mauleverer show
any symptoms of anger or even suspicion
while he was with you in the smoking room
that night when you stopped at the hallf"
"Certainly not He was just as friendly
and as courteous in his manner as usual"
"That is bad, I fear?very bad. Will you
believe that he had already discovered at
that tim9 what had taken place in the garden
between you and Daisy "
<*How could he discover that?" I cried.
"Don't you understand? Did you not see
Fiinter leave the garden at the same time
that we did? No," he said, raising his hand
to check my impetuous cry of anger, "it
would not be fair to blame Fiinter for what
he did then. Remember he is devoted body
and sonl to the service of his master. But
what I feel is that Mauleverer's concealment
of bis anger while he sat with you in the
smoking room is very bad, because it looks
so much like the cunning of insanity. And
that he was mad?really mad?when you
left tha hall lam nranarad nnnn mv nath
to aver. He would never otherwise have
treated Daisy as he did."
I shuddered. "Do you mean to say that
there has been positive ill-usage?"
"Aye, more than enough of it Of course,
you understand that the poor child is neither
starved nor beaten. But there are moral
weapons which are still more cruel and
terrible than these."
"Oh, how could you leave her to hU
mercy?" I cried in an agony of pain. "I
cannot understand how any one could have
deserted her in such circumstances. Let us
go back to her at once.",
"My good fellow, keep calm," replied the
doctor, on whose face sympathy rather than
indignation at my fiery language was expressed.
"Do you suppose that if I could
have been of any service to the dear child I
would have left her as I did? I found, however,
that my presence, for various reasons,
actually aggravated her sufferings; so I did
what I could. I summoned Mrs. Cawthorne
to her, and in obedience to Mauleverer's
orders I came up here to attend to his affairs."
"But you say we are in the Arctic regions;
what can be the affair* of Mr. Mauleverer in
this part of the tforld?"
"Have you not heard of the discovery of
gold in Norway? Our friend has a very
large interest in what may turn out to be
one of the most important properties of its
kind in the world."
"Where are we at this moment?" I asked.
"Within half an hour of Bodo, the place
where I am to see the agent of the mines."
"You will p it me ashore there," I said,
sternly, for 1 was cut to the heart by the
thought of Daisy's situation "I must return
to England instantly."
"I understand your wish; but pray, Mr.
Fenton, do not act rashly. You will get
back to England, I imagine, quite as soon by
sticking to the yacht as by adopting auy
other mode of making the journey."
"Thanks," I said, ungraciously; "but you
can hardly be surprised that I should have
no desire to remain the guest of Mr. Mauleverer
for a single hour after I have the power
of leaving his too hospitable ship."
He looked At me gravely.
"Well," he remarked, presently, "I shall
not attempt to prevent the carrying out of
what I feel is a natural impulse. But now,
if you will excuse me, I would suggest that
you change your attire. I have ascertained
that Flintes did not do things by halves.
After you had been brought aboard the
yacht be sent ashore for your baggage, and
I have just had it placed in one of the staterooms."
"Upon my wcrd," I said, "I shall remember
my obligation-; 10 Mr. Fknter as long as I
live, and some day I hope I shall be able to
repay them."
Branksome made no reply. I was conscious
of the fact that, although very indignant
at the treatment to which 1 had been
subjected, be was not inclined to take any
active part in my quarrel with F.inter.
That being the case, 1 was resolved not to
reveal to him those darker suspicions which
I entertained against the villain. If I did
so it was just possible that the doctor might
let drop some incautious word which would
put Fiinter on his guard. That the latter
meditated murder?either my murder, or
Daisy's, or perchance Mauleverer's?and that
he had thought of using poison for the purpose,
I was almost certain. 1 had not spent
tAn in chlrfvintr f.hnf. ciniafzxv nKon.
ter in the medic il work without having
formed a theory of iny own regarding it.
It was certa nly true that I needed before
everything else a change of attire. Although
I bad been able to indulge in unlimited ablutions
in my cell, I had been compelled to go
without any change of clothes for the whole
period. Enraged as I was at the daring insolence
of F.inter, I could hardly find it in
my heart to rebuke this last instance of it
when I found myself comfortably clad in
clean linen, and in a more suitable att.ro
than that which I had recently been wearing.
I heard the engines stop and the anchor
chains go rattling through the hawsj hole as
I was putting the finishing touches to my
toilet; and immediately afterward Branksome
appeared at the door of the sumptuous
little cabin where I had found my property,
and invited me to go on deck.
I was altogether unprepared for the scene
that now presented itself. All around, as it
appeared to me at the first glance, were
great snow clad mountains, glittering under
the cold sunshine in a dazzling robe or white.
We were in a landlockel harbor, within half
a mile of a little town, the roo's of which
were heavily laden with the silvery snow.
It was only the water in the harbor, and the
winding channel which seemed to lead to
the outer sea, that afforded any re ief to the
glittering white which covered the whole
landscape. It was in very truth an Arctic
scene which I beheld. No wind was blowing,
and I was surprised to find that the
temperature was by no mean* painfully
cold. It was delishtful once mora to be
hold the outer world. Strange and barren
as was that land, I longed for the moment
when I should set foot upon it, and find myself
free from the accursed vessel which
had been my prison.
"I am sending ashore for our lett* rs." said
Branksome. "If you are really determined
to leave the yacht at once you may go with
the boat; but if you will allow me to advise
you, I should certainly recommend you to
stay on board till the letters have b. en received.
Who knows what news they may
give us of affairs at Great Lorton? Do not
let your natural and justifiable anger carry
you too far?"
I yielded to the temptation, and agreed to
remain until the steward had returned from
the poste res;ante, and meanwhile I watched
the strange and interesting scene before me
with a curious eye. There was only one
vessel in the little harbor, and all its rigging
and spars seemed to be coated with ice. I could
see men and women walking on the shore
clad in unwieldy garment! of fur; while
close at hand thousands of eider duck and
other beautiful sea fowl were swimming on
the water or nestling on the little black
rocks which everywhere rose just above the
surface of the sea.
"Luncheon is ready, and this keen air
must have given you an appetite." It vas
Branksome who spoke. I had hoped that I
should not have to make another meal on
board ths yacht, but I felt that I could not
refuse the doctor's invitation without discourtesy,
so I went below.
Certainly this meal was very different
from those of which I had partaken lately.
My companions at the table In the magnificent
dining saloon were Branksome and
Fosdyke, and it was evident that they were
resolved to do all they could to entertain mo.
My companions were Branksome 'and
Fosdyke.
It scorned as though they were anxious to
make some amends for the shameful treatment
I ha I already received on board the
Golden H .wk. Fosdyke had an endless
store of interesting anecdotes relating to
criminal cases and the peculiarities of
famous judges and counsel; while Branlcwrno'e
tftilf una whflt1. T hurl fniind it fn hA At I
Scarborough?penetrated with a wit and an
intelligence such as very few men with
whom 1 have ever been in contact have possessed.
But all conversation was stopped by the
arrival of the letter bag. Ridiculous as I
knew that it must be to expect anything else,
I confess that I was disappointed when I
found that there was nothing for me in the
bag. i had secretly clung to the hope that
Mauleverer might have betrayed my position
to Daisy, in which case I felt assured
that shi w ould seek some means of communicating
with me.
But though there was no letter for me, there
was n ws from Great LortonHalL My instinct
told me which of the letters that
I saw Branksome turn over when he received
the parcel from the steward was that which
concerned me most deeply. Yes, I remembert
d the large, square envelope Daisy had
used when she wrote to me, and across the
table I could even identify my darling's
handwriting.
I could not take my eyes off Branksome's
face as he read this letter?the first which he
opened. It was not very long, but evidently
it gave the doctor something to reflect
upon. He read it a second time, and apparently
pondered its contents carefully in
his own mind. Suddenly he looked up and
caught my eyes fixed intently upon him.
"Ahl" be said, with a smile, "I can understand
how much you mast wish to see what
Daisy has written. Well, there are no
secret?, so far as I can see, which need prevent
you reading her letter," and he tossed
it lightly across to me.
It was written in a tone of affection and
confidence, and it i elated some of the events
which had happened at the hall since Branksome
left. As the letter had been written
only some ibree or four days after his departure
Daisy had not much to telL But
to my s r prise and relief the news she told,
bo far as it concerned herself, was good.
Her une'e. she said, had altered considerably
during the last two or three days.
The pas-ion and irritability which had
marked his tempe.- for some time had al
most entirely disappeared. "He is becoming
more like bis dear old self, and be no longer
treats me in the strange, cruel way in whicb
be did at firet O, I do pray so earnestly
that tbis happy change may continue. God
grant that he may yet give mo back his love,
and that the cloud which has arisen between
us may pas* away. You know, dear doctor,
what I mean when I say that?or rather you
know what I do not mean. I shall never
prove untrue to Mr. Fenton. I have promised
him to be faithful, and though I may
never marry at all, I Bhall never marry any
but him."
My eyes sparkled with delight as I read
the dear words. I could tell that both
Branksomo and Fosdyke were watching me,
but I could not l-estrain the smile of joy that
broke upon my l.ps.
"Where can ho be?" she continued. "I am
surprised that I should not have heard from
him again, and sometimes I fear that he is
ill, or that some misfortune of another kind
has befallen him. When you return to
England do befriend me, dear doctor, and
try to ascertain where he is. I am forced to
trust everything in your hands now. You
will not di s-rt us bath?" There was a postcript
to the letter which I confess I read
with little interest compared with that with,
whicj I perused those passages that more
immed.au ly concerned myself. It ran as
follow.-:
"I should have told yon sooner that my
uncle has not been very well of lata He
has not had the doctor again, however. Ha
is taking the medicine the doctor prescribed
when he first saw him "
I hoped that Branksomo would allow mo
to keep this letter, in which there was so
much that had the deepest interest for ma
But I was disappointed. * When he saw that
I had read it through he held out his hand
and received it from me.
"Now, Mr. Fenton," he said presently, "I
am going to reason with you. Daisy's letter
proves, I think, that Mr. Mauleverer is recovering
his senses. You, who have seen
him when in his ordinary state of mind,
must know how gentle and amiable he is
when free from mental excitement or disturbance.
I want to plead with you for his
forgiveness. Can you not see that when he
is himself again there will be no man living
who will be more horrified at the thought of
the outrage of which he has made you the
victim than he will be?''
I assented to what Branksome said.
"Well, then, be generous to him. Remember
his close connection with Daisy, and forgive
him for his conduct, not merely by
word of mouth, but in your inmost heart."
"I am quite ready to do that; indeed, I
thought I had already done so."
"No, there is only one way in which you
can show at this moment that you are not
unforgiving. That is by remaining on the
yacht. Yes, I see that you do not like the
suggestion, but before you reject it consider
one or two points. First, then, you will unquestionably
show a magnanimous spirit
which can hardly fail to impress Mr. Mauleverer
in your favor when he recovers entirely
from the excitement from which he
nos lately suirered; next, you win dg complying
with what I know under such circumstances
would be Daisy's wish. Do you
not see in her letter how she recommends
you to my protection? Well, I am ready to
protect you, so far as I can do so, if you will
follow my advice. Lastly, I believe that
you will be able to get to England sooner
by remaining with us than by any other
way."
I wavered?and was lost The truth is
that I had no grievance against Branksome
or Fo3dyke. The former I had learned to
like immensely and to trust entirely. The
latter was one of the most amusing of companions.
It was unploasant, no doubt, to reflect
upon the fact that Flinter was one of
the company on board the vessel. But he
had carefully kept out of my way since my
release, and the ship was large enough to permit
him to avoid me entirely if he wished to
do so. I took the outstretched hand of
Branksomo and declared that I would finish
my voyage, as I had begun it, on board the
Golden Hawk.
Three days we lay in the harbor at Bodo.
This is not a story of Arctic travel, and
therefore I shall not dwell upon the novel
and interesting sights which I witnessed
during our stay in the little port Neither
the novelty nor the interest of the thing,
however, prevented my rejoicing openly ,
when at last we started on our return journey.
Thirty-six hours after quitting Bodo
we were at anchor in the port of Trondhjem,
the ancient capital of Norway.
We were not to remain long here; but
there was time, Dr. Branksoms told me, to
see the grand old cathedral of St Olaf, and
the other sights of the place. Accompanied
by Branksome and Fosdyke, I went through
the wide streets of the quaint old city. The
first place we visited was the postoffice. j
There was a batch of letters here for Fos
dyke and one or wo ior rsranKsome. out ,
there was no further news from Great
Lorton.
"Let us go to the Hotel d'Angleterre," said
Fosdyke, when we had done our sightseeing
at the cathedral "Suppose that we lunch
there, and have a look at the newspapers."
"By all means," was the simultaneous reply
of Branksome and myself; and before
long we were seated in the cosily-furnished i
little salon of that well-known hotel. The |
friendly waiter brought the latest copy of ;
The Times?six days old?to us. and Brank- |
some, after courteously offering It to me,
began to peruse it with the hungry avidity
of a man who has long been ihut off from
news of the outer world.
Fosdyke and 1 turned over the old illustrated
papers which littered the table, and
the well-thumbed register of visitors from
all parts of the world, while ever and anon
Branksome gave us the particulars of some
incident of interest recorded in the journal
Suddenly a cry of horror startled me out of
the placid frame of mind in which I had
been awaiting my luncheon. It was Branksome
who had uttered i. I looked up and
saw him with a white, panic-stricken face,
holding the newspaper towards Fosdyke, his
hand trembling with emotion. He was apparently
incapable of speecL
"In heaven's name, what is the matter,
Branksome? Are you ill?" cried the lawyer.
"Oh, my God! my God I" he groaned, "read
it! read it for yourself. Was there ever
anything so dreadful in ihis world?"
Fosdyke did not seem to yndcrstand. I
snatched the paper from Branksome's fingers,
and after a moment's delay I found the
dreadful news which had moved him so
deeply. This was the paragraph which I
read:
"Sudden Death.?Our Lorton correspondent
telegraphs to us to say that a profound
sensation has be en caused throughout
the district by the news of the sudden death
of Mr. George Mauleverer, the Australian
millionaire, whose purchase of the Great
Lorton estate was recently announced in our
U pn?ma +Via+. \ft? Monlovornr wna
WlUUiUSl ? BW?U3 VUftW Mill M4M.V.V.V.
found dead in his bed yesterday morning,
and the appearances indicate that ho died
during a lit of epilepsy, to which it is rumored
that he was subject. It is not thought
likely that any inquest will be held. Mr.
Mauleverer had only recently settled in England,
his vast fortune having bean accumulated
in Australia, where he was well known
as the wealthiest of the squatter aristocracy.
He leaves behind him a niece who resided
with him at Great Lor.on HalL Mr. Mauleverer
during the short period of his residence
on his Yorkshire estate had endeared
himself to his tenantry by his liberality and
kindlines. Ho had, however, been in ailing
health almost ever since his arrival in England.
Nothing is known as yet as to the disposition
of his immense wealth."
We sat utterly paralyzed by the sudden
blow that had thus fallen upon us. Even I,
although I bad no great reason to feel drawn
towards Mauleverer, was stunned by the
greatness anl unexpectedness of this
calamity. Fosdyke was manifestly agitated
and incredu ous, unable to realiza what it
was that had happened. As for Branksome,
his faqe was ghastly. All the brightness
had fuded out of it, and he sat with
drawn features, pallid lips and eyes wide
open, staring into space. After that muffled
cry of horror he had seemed to be literally
incapable of >peich.
"I don't lelieve it!'' cried Fosdyke at last.
"It is some d 1 infernal lie of the newspapers.
Eh, Branksome, don't you think
so, too/ For God's sake, man, don't let this
upset you! I'll telegraph at once." He
started up as though about to leave the room
lor that purpose.
Branksome fe.bly raised his hand to stay
him.
"Don't go," he said almost in a whisper,
"for th? Jove of heaven do not leave me
yet"
There was something in his tone that made
me feel that I was de tropi I had no right,
i saw, 10 intrude upon such grief and "horror
as his. I got up qu etly and stole out of the
room 1 went out into the street, where the
snow was lying, and walked up and down :
bareheaded, regardless of the cold, trying to j
collect my thoughts and realize what it was
that had happened.
And my first clear idea was one of which
at the time I felt ashamed, of which I am |
even more ashamed now after the lapse of |
years. I forgot all about Mauleverer him- I
sen ana only graspea toe taea inac at iasc
the obstacle which stood between Daisy
and myself had been 1 emoved. There was
nothing now to prevent our marriage.
Nothing? Yos. I remembered myself. There
was the dork shadow of Mauleverer's gold.
Even now?from his grave I felt well assured
that with his dead hand he would strive to
keep us asunder.
The thought of Daisy had quickened my
intellect, and I saw that there was at least
one step which I ought to take. I went back
to the litt'e room where I had left Branksome
and Fosdyke. I found them engaged
in conversation of the most eirnest description,
carried on in those low tones which,
when the shadow of bereavement lies heavy
on a man. ho naturally adopts. They looked
up when I entered as though they scarcely
relished my intrusion. Fosdyke at all events
could scarcely conceal his impatience. I made
a liastv apology, and seizing my coat and
hat left the 1 oom. Five minutes later I was in
the telegraph office writing a message to my
darling, in which I expressed my sorrow a',
hearing the news of her bereavement, and
my hope that within a few days we might
meet again.
As I waite 1 while the clerk checked the
message, my thourhts were naturally busy
with that solemn event, which had in a moment
robbed Mauleveror of all his wealth
and reduced him to the common level of our
poor morta'ity. He had been dead now just
a week. Probubly this was the day of his
funeral. My imagination took wings across
the stonn-to <?ed Northern sea, and I saw in
fancy the funeral procession starting from
that gloomy old hall among the Yorkshire
voids, with one slight girlish figure, draped
in black, following the coffin of the man at
whose riches all the world had wondered. "0
my darling," I cried in my heart, "why am
I not with you to belt you to bear your sorrow,
and to drive away that sense of loneliness
which is never felt so keenly as by the
side of an open grave?"
And then, like a flash of lightning, there
darted through my brain the remembrance
of the words spoken to me by Gregson in the
railway carriage, and all of the sinister portents
that had attended my visit to the hall.
Up to that moment I had regarded the rich
man's death as anv othnr person would have
done who had read the paragraph in The
Time-. But now. in an instant, I saw it all
Fool that I was, not to huve seen it soonorl
Mauleverer had been murdered!
Murderod! but how and by whom? One
man there was whom I suspected above all
others. But he was here, moro than a thousand
miles from the spot where the evil deed
had been done. Even if I could have been
told by a revelation from heaven that
Flinter had slain Mauleverer, I should have
had to acknowledge that the thing was impossible.
The arm of the assassin may be
long; but it cannot reach across hundreds
of leagues of stormy sea in order to strike
its coward's blow. Yet while I reflected on
all the perplexing contradictory facts, my
conviction that Flinter was guilty grew and
grew, until it took possession of my whole
frame, and quite suddenly the explanation
of the difficulty which had troubled me
became clear to my mind. He had an
accomplice?some one wnom ne naa leic dohind
hirn at Great Lorlon and through
whom he had slain the man he professed to
love with so do^-like a fidelity.
"Ah! Mr. Flinter," I said to myself, with
a bitter smile on my lips, "you little thought
what a pitfall you were digging for yourself
when you lured me on board the Golden
Hawk. If 1 had never been your prisoner,
I should never have been able to confound
you as I am about to do."
I took up one of the blank telegraph forms
on the table of the little office, and wrote
hurriedly as follows:
Chief Constable, Barton, Yorkshire:
' If Mauleveror's symptoms apparently those
of epilepsy, I strongly urge post-mortem j
examination. Have grave reason to suspect !
foul play. Return to England immediately.
Fenton, yacht Golden Hawk.
When in the dark after days I recalled the
moment when I penned the lines which were
destined to influence in so terrible a manner
.not only my own life, but the lives of so
many other persons, and when in n^y agony
I cried aloud to God for forgiveness for the
evil I had wrought unwittingly, I never
failed to remember one fact. That was,
that I seemed to have written that fatal
message under the inspiration of some will
outside mv own. It was done in an instant.
before I had even attempted to weigh the
act itself or its possible consequences; and I
was once more under the roof of the Hotel
d'Angleterre before I fully realized the step
which I had taken.
There is no need to dwell upon our hurried
departure from Trondhjem. Branksome had
recovered his calmness and self-possession
before we sailed that evening, but it was evident
that the terrible event of which we had
heard so unexpectedly filled him both with
sorrow and anxiety. He was very friendly
in his manner to me; but neither ho nor Fosdyke
was now disposed to lighten the passing
boars with the gay sall'es of talk and
story which had been so frequent before.
They spent the greater part of every day
deep in consultation with each other in
Branksome's private state room, and I soon
found that Flinter was not unfrequently admitted
to their confidence.
We had been three days at sea. In
another four-and-twenty hours we ought to
be at Hull, and in a few hours more I would
see Daisy. I was counting those hours as I
paced the deck after dinner under the frosty
starlit sky, when I was told by one of the
stewards that Dr. Branksome wished to
speak to me at once.
I found him in the handsome cabin which
was nominally set apart for the private use
of the owner of the ship. To my surprise
Fnnter was with him as well a? Fo^dyke. I
was struck by the extreme gravity of Branksome's
face when I entered the room. Fosdyke
seemed to be worried and nervous;
while as for Flinter, he received me with a
scowl of hatred that he- made not the
slightest attempt to conceal.
"Mr. Fenton," said Branksome, who was
standing and whose stately figure seemed to 1
fill the whole cabin, "it has just come to my
knowledge, within the last hour, and by the
purest accident, that you dispatched a message
by telegraph from Trondbjem, after
bearing the terrible news of Mr. Mauleverer's
death. 1 am very sorry to take what you
may possibly regard as a liberty; but I have
to ask you if you will kindly iuform me concerning
the nature of that message and the
person to whom it was addressed."
1 colored up and looked around In some
embarrassment Branksome's dark eyes
were bent upon me in a gaze which, to say
the least, was singularly grave and almost
stern, while Fosdyke, impatiently biting his
finger nail--, seemed bursting with anxiety
to hear my answer. I did not look at
Flinter: but I knew well enough the spirit
of which he was possessed.
For a moment I hesitated, and thought of
declining to reply to the question. But I
felt that I had no right, after the way in
which I had been treated by Branksome, to
deal with him otherwise than frankly.
"I telegraphed, Dr. Branksome, to Miss
Stancliffe. It was a simple message of sympathy
and an intimation that I hoped to see
her before long."
Fosdyke continued to gnaw his finger nails
restlesslv. Dr. Branksome's face did not
change by a single hair's breadth.
"And that was the only message you sent!"
he said, gravely.
"No, sir, it was not the only message," I
answered, annoyed and embarrassed, yet
feeling that my best plan was to tell everything.
"I sent another message to the chief
constable at Barton to tell him that I suspected
that Mr. Mauleverer had been poisoned."
CHAPTER XL
I MEET DAISY ONCE MORE.
There was a hoarse cry of anger?a growl
such as might have broken from the throat
of a wild beast?and almost instantaneously
I found myself borne down to the floor,
where I lay with Fiinter's hands grasping
my throat and hLs knees firmly planted on
my body. I had hardly realized my position,
however, when I saw Brnnksome throw himself
upon the ruffian. Fosdyke also came to
my assistance, and after a short, sharp
struggle I was released from a grasp which,
ViorJ linnn s*rkn finilA'l mil^h lonorpr mfchfc
have put a premature end to my adventures.
Branksome's indignation against Flinter
was great; but it was not to be compared
w'ith that which Flinter evidently entertained
against me. For the moment he
seemed altogether to have lost his self-control,
and I verily believe that if. Branksome
and Fosdyke had not been on the alert, ho
would there and then have murdered me b ;fore
their eyes.
"Curse you! curse you!" he cried, shaking
"Cicr.se you! Curse you.n' he cried
* ? ? *?* *i-- - ?i.n
ms cuneueu ust ui? mi,*, muiic pu^nn/u vr*.
most frightful character blazed from his j
evil eyes. ''May I be lost forever if 1 don't i
pay you for this!"
There is no need to inflict upon my readers
the horrible imprecation* he launched
against me, or the foul epithels he applied to
me. For some minutes Branksome and Fos- i
dyke continued to remonstrate with him unavailingly.
At .a-t, however, he lapsed into t
a state of sullen calm, though his bloodshot ;
eyes, his swollen veins, and the spumy froth j
that gathered at the angles of his mouth j
showed that he was still under the influence j
of the frenzied excitement which had led !
him to attack me.
So soon as Branksoino was able to leave \
Fosdyke in sole charge of the rufflan he
turned upon me, and in language, the stern- j
ness of which astonished me, he said:
"You see the effect your statement has I
bad upon this man. Probably you see in it
some confirmation of the extraordinary sus- i
picions you appear to entertain regarding !
him. I know not and I carj not whether it
is so; but this I must tell you, Mr. Fenton,
that to your dying day you will regard with
horror and remorse the act to which you
have just confessed."
"What do you mean by such a statement? j
Sureiy I had a right "
"Enough, enough, sir!" he cried in a voice
which I hardly recogniz?d as his. "Excuse
my inability to talk to you in conventional
nnoa nr turmi But I cannot tandv words i
with you at present God in His mercy 1
grant that something may yet happen to
avert the evil which it is but too certain that 1
you have done by your inexcusable conduct" |
I tr;ed to justify myself, but it was in vain. Feeling
more like a culprit than I had ever
done in my life before, I left the cabin and
went to my own state room. I am not a
coward, but I confess that I passed an un- ;
easy night, knowing that Flinter was on
board the yacht. At every moment I expected
to hear his footstep by the side of my berth,
and to feel his hands upon my throat.
Neither Branksome nor Fosdyke had much ;
to say to me next day. Fosdyke's nervousness
was unmistakable, and when I spoke to
him he answered in monosyllables. Brank- I
some was grave and preoccupied. His man- '
ner to me was courteous, but decidedly cold.
When afternoon fell we were running up
tho Humber, over which a light November
fog hung, adding to one's depression of
spirits, in another hour I knew that I
\
\
should be free from the yacht. I could not
bear the thought of parting on unfriendly
terms from Braftcson-" I had fallen completely
under the sw.iy of the man's character.
and had recognized that fascination
to which Daisy and all others who knew him
well had 'iiccumbed before me. It was almost
hui. b : that I approached him now,
and aske > uim to pardon mo if I had been
guilty of any indiscretion in sending the tele- (
grams from Trondhjem.
He looked at me for a moment with that
searching, fearless gnzj which was characteristic
of the man. Then he spoke:
"It is I who ought to ask you to pardon 1
me, Mr. Fenton. I undoubtedly was guil y
of a breach of good manners in speaking to
you as I did last night. But I was agitated <
to on o-srfortf. of whif>h vmi r??n If now t?ofh
ing. You ask me whether you were guilty
of an indiscretion in sending that message
to the Barton police. Ah! sir, I dare not
hint even to you the terrible suspicion that ,
fills my mind, and that has intensified a
hundred-fold my grief at the death of my
benefactor. If you knew the feeling of apprehension
with which I am awaiting our
arrival in port, and the news we may find
there, you will not wonder that I lost control
of myself last night I can only say
now, as I said than, God grant that my
worst fears as to the possible consequences
of your act may not be verified!"
What did his strong language mean? It
was evident that he was resolved to leave
events to interpret it Full of trouble and
perplexity, 1 waited with impatience for
the moment when we should arrive in port
As we slackened speed off the entrance to
thedocksl sawaboat, containing the customs
and other officials of the port putting out to
meet us. In the prow of the bo it was a telegraph
messenger. Branksome, Fosdyke and
I stood side by side, leaning over the bulwarks
of the yacht and awaiting the approach
of the little craft There was none
of that joyous excitement which usually prevails
on board a vessel entering port after a
voyaga Our tongues were silent and our
faces showed too clearly the anxiety that
possessed our minds. Above us the leaden
cloud of fog hung like a pall. Its desolation
and gloom seemed to have taken possession
of our hearts.
We heard the measured beat of the oars as
the boat drew near, and we could see the
features of the men occupying it To me
they seemed to wear an air of stern preoccupation.
It was only the innocent little telegraph
boy in the prow of the boat who
seemed altogether careless and unconcerned;
and yet, too, probably, he was the messenger
oi aoom, wuoso coming we ureaueu.
The gangway had been lowered and the
customs and health officers came quickly
aboard, saluting us as they did so. They
were followed immediately by the telegraph
messenger.
"Mr. Fenton here?" I snatched from his
hand the envelope he held towards me and
without waiting to see if he had any message
for Branksoma and Fosdyke I turned
away to read that addressed to myself.
It was from the chief constable at Barton
and was brief. "Thanks for message. Shall
be glad of personal interview at earliest convenience."
I felt relieved. After all there was nothing
very terrible in this dispatch, nothing to
justify the dark forebodings of B rank some.
Yet with the feeling of relief was mingled a
sense of disappointment. I had hoped that
possibly I might have received a message
from Daisy.
I turned to look for Branksome but could
see nothing either of him or Fosdyke. At
that moment one of the persons who had
boarded us in the customs boat came up to
me and entered into conversation.
"Porhnm von would like to see the even
Ing paper, sir. I got it just as we left the
landing stage. You will find in it the latest
news about the Great Lorton mystery. But,
by the way," he continued, as though a
sudden light had broken upon his mind,
"the Golden Hawk was the name of Mr.
Mauleverer'a yacht, was it not? Is it possible
that you are a friend of his? Have you
heard ?"
In an agony of impatience I interrupted
him, and asked him to allow me to look at
the newspaper.
"You will see the latest telegram there,"
he said, indicating a particular spot, as I
took the sheet into my hands.
1 saw at once that "the Great Lorton
mystery" was the leading feature of the
issue. It filled a column of the paper?a
column udorned with big type and striking
head lines. I carefully ran my eye downwards,
not taking in the sense of the words
I read, until I came to the place indicated
by the man, and found the following:
"LATEST INTELLIGENCE.
"arrest on suspicion.
"Barton, Friday morning.
"This morning Mr. Eastmead, chief constable
of BartoD, acting on information received,
proceeded to Great Lorton Hall, and
there arrested Miss Daisy StanclifTe, niece of
Mr. Mauleverer, on suspicion of being concerned
in his mur ler. Miss StanclifTe, it
will be remembered, was the only known
relative of th3 deceased, and attended his
funeral on Monday as chief mourner. She
is said to b? a young Indy of remarkably
prepossessing appear.'.net. It is rumored
that evidence of a very startling kind will be
laid before the magistrates in support of the
chnrgo against her. The prisoner will be
brought before a special sessions at Barton
this afternoon; but it is understood that on
this occasion only formal evidence will bo
tendered."
1 read it all The words burned themselves
into my brain never to be effaced;
and then?I suddenly grew sick and cold,
the objects nbout me seemed to be spinning
round, and immediately all was blank. For
the first t m? in my life I had fainted.
As I j lowly recovered consciousness,
Brnnksome s voice was the first that I heard.
"Ho is coming round. Take him below."
in oueaience 10 ms curi tuuuumiu, i ?u?
carried down to the main saloon and laid
upon a sofa. In a moment Branksome followe
1 me. He waved aside the sailors who
had attended me.
"Well." he said, "you understand now, I
suppose!"
His face was almost as white as I felt that
mine was.
"No; I understand nothing," I answered
in faint tones.
"Do you not see, Fenton," he said, in a
hurried whisper, "what it is that you have
done! You have put an idea in the heads
of those fools at Barton and the consequence
is the arrest of Daisy."
"You cannot believe that," I said, with
more energy. "Surely you do not charge
me with having caused her arrest? It is
some hideous mistake on the part of these
clum-y Yorkshire policemen. We shall have
it put right immediately. I shall go to Barton
this evening, and see about it."
"My dear young friend," said Branksome,
speaking in measured tone* and a softened
voice, "your eyes are closed to the truth. If
you had r.ever hinted at such a thing as
murder, Daisy would never had been suspected.
But you have lighted the match,
and you cannot now prevent the explosion."
I shrank back from him in horror. "Why,
you speak as though she might be guilty."
He shook his head slowly, mournfully.
"Did I not tell you that I feared for the
consequences when a girl like Daisy, proud,
passionate, sensitive, is subjected to such
persecutions as those which she had to suffer
at Mauleverer's hands?"
"But they were over! Do you not remember
the letter you had from her at Bodo? Besides,
the thing is ridiculous. Daisy a murderess
1 I shall believe that you and I are
parricides sooner than suspect such a thing."
"Yes," he said, thoughtfully, "I knew I
should shock you. But for Daisy s sake, as
well as yours; it is better that you should
know the worst. You and I have got to save
that poor girl, for remember it is you who
have brought her into periL"
I was overwhelmed with a grief such as I
had never known befora Very hurriedly
we made arrangements as to the future, for
I felt that we must work together if anything
was to be dona He meant, be said, to
go to Great Lor ton the next morning. For
my part I was thankful when 1 landed to
find that there was a train by means of
which I could reach Barton that night.
Barton is a pleasant agricultural town,
boasting a big market place, where once a
week the cattle from the surrounding district
are offered for sale, a good hotel, an old
church, a jail and a sessions house. It was
ten o'clock at night when I reacbod the end
of my journey. I hurried to the hotel and
deposited my portmanteau, and then I took
the porter who had carried it as my guide to
the police sta ion.
[TO BK CONTINUED NEXQVKEK.)
/Z?~Some very quiet young ladies do 1
up their hair with a bang.
miscellaneous Heading.
RIOTING IN BELFAST.
For some months past the Irish city of
Belfast, usually the most hustling and
prosperous of Irish towns, has been in a
condition of disorder, which has resulted,
now and again, in ferocious and bloody
riots. The slightest pretext seems to have
been the signal for the gathering of mobs,
collisions between the people and'with the
police, the sacking and burning of buildings,
and the killing of men, women and
children.
The latest outburst of this spirit of violence
was caused by the arrest of two
drunken men for fighting in the streets.
This incident clearly shows to whatan ex
LMtecl pitcii the leenng ol the hostile parties
in Belfast has attained.
The causes of this state of things are,
unhappily, easily found. They exist in
the bitter animosity with which the two
branches of the Irish race regard each
other. They arise from a hostility which
is both religious and political.
Belfast is the capital and centre of that
part of the Irish population which is Protestant,
is descended from English and
Scottish settlers, and is resolved to retain
English rule in Ireland. It is the chief
city of the province of Ulster, and Ulster
is the stronghold of those who have been
especially fostered and favored by England,
and who are utterly opposed to the
establishment of an Irish Parliament.
This Protestant and "loyal" section of
the Irish is represented by the famous
"Orange" society. The Orangemen derive
their title from William, Prince of
Orange and King of England, who was
the Protestant champion against the Catholic
James the Second, two centuries ago.
They form a secret society, which has its
lodges throughout northern Ireland. The
objects of the Orange society are, to maintain
the ascendency of England in Ireland,
to oppose the Catholic majority, and
to use every effort to prevent the adoption
of Home Rule.
Belfast is the headquarters of the Orangemen,
and this is why thecity has long
been so turbulent. For, in numbers, the
Protestants and Catholics in Belfast are
nearly equal. Each party is intensely bitter
in its feelings towards the* other ; and
on the occasion of the political holidays,
the processions of each are often attacked
by the other.
If the Catholics have a procession on St.
Patri/.L-'u Hut* ? mnh nf Dninffpmpn is
very apt to assail it with stones, and even
pistols; and the same thing is almost certain
to occur if the Orangemen parade on
the anniversary of the battle of tne Boyne.
There can be no doubt that the bloody
riots which haye ocourred in Belfast, at
intervals, during the past live or six
months, have arisen from the intense feeling
caused by the proposition of Mr. Gladstone
to grant Home Rule to Ireland.
This scheme aroused the fears of the Orangemen,
and lifted high the hopes of the
Catholics. The result was that their mutual
hostility was intensified, and led to a
state of anarchy and violence which the
authorities of the law have not yet been
able to suppress.
Race, religious and political hatred, is
thus responsible for the terrible condition
of things which exists in Belfast. This
hatred is hereditary and ancient, beginning
with the period when the English
crown forced English settlers upon Irish
soil.
' It is hard to see how it can be softened
or removed. The Orangemen fear that if
Ireland had her own Parliament, that
Parliament would persecute the Protestants
of the Xorth. On the other hand,
the Catholic majority, as it is to-day, is
profoundly disaffected to English rule. It
is a pity that time has done so little to
soften and wear away a race hostility
which is rancorous in its intensity, a^d
barbarous in its action.
A HOME OF YOUR OWN.
One of the very first things that a young
married couple should think of, is the getting
of a home of their own ; a house which
is theirs "to have and to hold" for lifetime,
if possible; one that shall be to their
children a place around which all their
youthful memories gather, and bring a
glow to their hearts, 110 matter what may
come to them in after years; one in
which each room will, in process of time,
become endeared through its associations.
It may seem far away in the distance at
first, but persistent thought and effort in
that direction will bring it to pass in time,
and much sooner than at first seemed
probable. ^Necessity or expediency may
make renting the only thing to do for a
cancan - t.:;f I ufill nrlhere to the ODinion
that it is the truest economy and highest
wisdom to get a home of your own at the
earliest moment that you can make it
practicable.
These peripatetic people have rarely
much of value that they can call their own,
for in the very nature of things they could
not have. The family lack the sense of
permanency in regard to a home which
is always so desirable, and especially
when people are upon the down hill side
of life. While young and vigorous, with
brains busy with what is going on in the
world, its absence is not felt so much, but
the day must come when the interests
will be gradually withdrawn with the
waning strength from purely outside matters
and centre within the home, and it
is ihen that the heart longs for and is best
satisfied with what Jong habit has made
dear and familiar.
Another thing is true. Your expenditures
are much more likely to be carefully
looked after if you have such an object
in view. I know a couple who boarded
for some years after their marriage, then
rented a house and went to housekeeping.
They lived up to every cent of their income,
though never running in debt. Finally
they concluded to have a home of
their own, and took advantage of the installment
plan; that is, they had a house
built for them by persons who make that
sort of thing their business, gave a mortgage
upon it to secure the builder, and
paid for it in monthly installments. The
undertaking caused a complete change in
their way of living. Without being niggardly,
they looked closely after expenses,
and found that they could enjoy life just
as well as ever, and even better, because
they had a definite object in view which
absorbed their thoughts, and for which
they were planning lrom (lay 10 ciay.
They go without many little luxuries to
which they were accustomed, but they do
not feel the deprivation in the comfort
they take in what is to be really a home,
not just simply a temporary place to live
in?Toledo Blade.
An Odd Bit of Irish History.?We
are indebted to the English Illustrated
Magazine for the following odd bit of Irish
history. In 1558?the last year of the
reign of Queen Mary?Dr. Henry Cole,
the Dean of St. Paul's, was sent to Chester
on a special commission from the
Queen to prosecute the heritics of Ireland,
who were beginning to increase
alarmingly. The hostelry at which he
stopped was then kept by a Mrs. Mottershead,
a singular name that still survives
in the street. The Mayor of Chester called
at the inn to pay his respects to the
Dean, and Mrs. Mottershead overhead the
Dean say exultingly that he carried that
which would "lash all the heretics in Ireland,"
and then he took out a leather box
and showed it exultingly to his worship.
Now, the landlady had a brother in Dublin,
and, anxious for his safety, she took
occasion during the night to abstract the
commission from the leather box and substitute
a pack of cards tied together by a
thread, with the knave of clubs uppermost.
On his arrival at Dublin he presented
his box to the Lord Deputy and
the Privy Council, who were surprised to
X
v
find such an authority, and at once dismissed
him. He returned to London to
retrieve his loss, but on his arrival he
learned that his royal mistress was dead,
and Elizabeth granted Mrs. Mottershead
a pension of .?40 a year for the part she
had taken in the transaction, a sum that
would at least represent $200 of our money.
S EN S1TIV F~ A NIM A LS.
A gentleman who recently made a trip
on horseback through the mountain region
of the West, evidently made an observation
which was to him a discovery.
In writing an account of his journey, he
says: "The behavior of our saddle horses
was very amusing, and showed the prairie
life plainly. The moment they felt the
cold storm they turned their backs around
toward it and dropped their heads, and
took no little urging to induce them to
proceed, as at each gust they would whirl
their tails toward it as if turned by a
crank."
The writer seems to have thought the
conduct of his horses peculiar to those
bred upon the prairies. It was, however,
just what any horses would do under the
circumstances, no thatter from what part
of the world they were brought. It should
be known to all drivers of horses with
what reluctance these animals face a storm
or even a chilling wind. It may be quite
reasonable to drive before the wind on a
stormy day, when it would be positively
cruel to go over the road in the opposite
direction.
It is convenient to know this habit of
the horse in case an animal has strayed
away during a storm or a high wind. It
will be found to havegone in the direction
of the wind.
The habit of the sheep is just the contrary.
This animal steadily faces the
storm, holds its head well up, and is inclined
to move forward. No domestic animals
give their keepers so much trouble
by wandering off in stormy and boisterous
weather as do sheep; but the shepherds
are saved much of the trouble they
might have in finding theirflocksby makingsearch
in a direction against the wind.
This instinctive action of horses and
sheep is common to all breeds, and is inherited
from their undomesticated progenitors.
Whatever may have been the origin
of these habits, we can turn a knowledge
of the facts to good account in giving
our horses more rational care and treatment.?
Youth1* Companion.
Lucky Hits.?It would be a stupid
misreading of events to say that the famous
duel to which David owed his rapid
rise was a single lucky hit?a chance shot,
in which success redeemed what would
otherwise have been a foolhardy adventure.
Men rarely owe their success in life
to chance shots of any kind. But they
often do take their start from some single
act which serves to disclose what manner
of men they are, and to foretell to the
sagacious what their career must prove.
It was not in reality the slinger's skill,
which aimed cool and fair at the giant's
forehead, when an older hand might have
swerved for fear?not that alone which
revived the decaying ardor of Israel,
bound Jonathan to his friend in life-long
admiration, and made David the hero of'
the war. He became the man he was
just because he carried this same devout
reliance upon an arm unseen into all his
affairs, acted ever as in Jehovah's sight,
and knew himself to be by day and night,
beneath' Divine protection. The qualities
which made him the conqueror of
Goliath were the qualities which made
him the founder of the Hebrew empire,
and the type as well as ancestor of the
Messiah.
? ?
Some Remarkable Features.?It is
a remarkable but invariable feature of
mild earthquake shock that they are felt
by some persons and not by others in the
same situation. This is true of persons i
who are on the same floor of the same
building. And-it is sometimes the case
that persons in the top of a high building
have let the shaking pass unnoticed, while
persons in the lower stories of the same
building have rushed out of their rooms
in terror. It would be interesting to
know whether some persons are constitutionally
more sensitive to earthquakes
than others, and whether quick observation
of seismic disturbance is a matter of
intelligence or merely of the nerves?New
Haven News.
?
Wonders of tle world.?ine seven .
wonders of the world in ancient times
were the Pyramids of Egypt, the Pharos
of Alexandria, the walls and hanging gardens
of Babylon, the temple of Diana, the
statue of the Olympian Jupiter, the mausoleum
of Artemisia, and the Colussus at
Rhodes. The seven wonders of the world
in modern times are the printing press,
the steam engine, the spinning jenny, the
telephone, the phonograph, telegraph and
electric light. The so-called "seven wonders"
of the ancients were mere trifles
compared with those of the present time.
The whole put together would sink into
insignificance could their builders have
seen a lightning express train at full
speed.
B@F Hidden in the swampeof Livingston
parish, Louisiana, is a hamlet with a pop
ulation of oOO souls, where until fifteen
years ago not a word of English was spoken
or understood. It is a settlement of
Acadians who displaced the Spanish
founders of the village, and to-day are
living in contentment far from any other
habitation. The people >are engaged in
the lumber business, and despite the
swampy and malarial condition of the
surrounding country, are a hardy and
long-lived race. The younger villagers
now use English to a greater degree among
themselves, but their elders cling to their
mother tongue. Though isolated, the settlement
is hospitable and a pleasant spot
to visit.
BkaT A story comes from Mexico that the
natives on the coast inoculate themselves
with the virus of adders, cobras and rattlesnakes,
and persons who have been thus
vaccinated are rendered forever proof
against injury from any bite or sting. An
eruption immediately breaks out, accompanied
by fever and much swelling of the
body, ai'ter which the skin gradually
flakes off" in scales, as in leprosy. It is
said that people who have been vaccinated
in this manner can not only handle the
most poisonous serpents with impunity,
but the bite of these persons themselves is
as fatal as that of the snake whose virus
has been transferred into their blood.
? ? #aTlf
it were possible to rise above the
atmosphere which surrounds the earth,
we should see nothing but an intense and
sharply defined ball of fire, while everything
else would be wrapped in total darkness.
There could be no diffusion of light
without an atmosphere or some similar
medium for it to act upon ; but if the air
about us extended to a height of seven
hundred miles, the rays of the sun could
not penetrate it and we would be left in
darkness. At the depth of seven hundred
feet in the ocean the light ceases altogethUolf
n KoAfKorl in
CI , UUC-imil ul llic ucuj^ auov/i ia.u iu
passing through only seven feet of the
purest water.
?>??
The mountain lions of Montana are
large and ferocious and they frequently
attack full-grown steers. The territory
offers $8 for every scalp, and the cow-boys
make quite a business of hunting them
in the winter. Lions are often killed
measuring nine feet from tip to tip, and
weighing 200 to 300 pounds. Many more
measuring from ten to eleven feet are frequently
bagged, and occasionally a monster
reaching twelve feet.
The conductor is a ladies' man. He
is always after the fare.
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