Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis iw. grist, proprietor, j %n Inbepcitiitnt Jfamilg ftefosppcr: Jor t|e promotion of % J)oIiticaI; Social, Hjricrtlfnral anb Commercial Interests of t|e Soiifjj. j TERMS--$2.50 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 32. YOBKVILLE, S. C.. WEDNESDAY. NOVEMBER IP, 1886. ISTO. 45. Jl $mal Jlnj. FIFE MILLION PODM By T. WEMYSS KEII>. CHAPTER XIV?Continued. a rift in the clouds. "Tell me, dearest, who were the persons whom he charged with being in this plot?" "Oh, I believe I was the chief sinner of all. He several times met me when I was alone, and accused me of it. Then he hatad Flinter, and said dreadful things about him, and even about Dr. Branksoma But I never knew what the {dot was to which he re* ferred." "Did Dr. Branksome know what the man was saying about him?" "Of course he did. Why, I think that, next to me, he hatel Dr. Branksome the most, and I remember his saying once that he could have sent him to penal servitude if . i" ha IiVaH ^ , , "In Dr. Branksome's presenoe?" "Yea" I was startled by what I had heard, for I remem$6red how Branksome had disclaimed any knowledge of the meaning of G region's language to me in' the railway train when I had reported, it .to him. Some strange fan* cies stole into my brain. "Tell me, Daisy, what do you think of Dr. Branksome himself?" She glancddjtp at me, and that troubled, doubtful look which I had noticed more than once at Scarborough passed over her face. "I do not know how I can answer your question," she said, after a pause, and speaking very slowly, as though weighing all her words. Dr. Branksome is a wonderful man. I never met any one like him. When I am with him he can make me do everything he wishes?or nearly everything. It is only when I am away from him that I donbt and fear him." "Then yon do doubt and fear him sometimes?" "Yes, when he is not near me. When he is, I hardly seem to have any will of my own. It is very strange. I cannot explain it. Sometimes I think he is a very, very good man; but there are times when I think very differently of him." "When did you see him last, Daisy?" I asked, feeling as though I were on the brink of some great discovery. "The day before the trial began. Did .you not know? Has be not told you?" "He has told me nothing." "That is strange, for he promised that he would do so. He brought me my will, which It seemed tnat it was necessary 1 snouia sit^u before I was tried." "Your willl I don't want to pry into your private affairs, my darling, but I must ask you if you left anything to Dr. Branksome?" Anything! Why, I left everything to him, of course?that is, everything but some little things I want you?" She stopped, blushing rosy red. - ? "Do you mean you left all your uncle's for. tune to Dr. Branksomei" % "Yes; you see he was the trustee appointed by my uncle, and he did not need to tell me that he was the only person to whom I could leave my uncle's money." In an Instant I saw, as when the blaze of summer lightning illumines the wide land* .. scape for miles at a stretch, the whole conspiracy, in the toils of which my darling had been caught. But that vivid dash of consciousness faded almost as quickly as it came, and left me once more groping in the twilight?not however, before I bad taken by bearings, as it were, afresh, and had seen that our real position was altogether different from what up to that moment I had imagined it to be. "Daisy," I said, trying hard to subdue my excitement "are you aware that the power of attorney which you signed the other day makes me for the present absolute master of all your property? You have constituted me your other self. While you are in confinement here I can go where I will and do what I please in your name, as your representative. Are you willing that I should make full use of these powers?" "Oh, yes," she cried; "who can use them better!" "Then, darling, I shall make my first use of them by putting a veto upon you. I want yon to promise that you will on no account allow Dr. Branksome to see you until we meet again. You know they will allow no one to visit you now unless you de 8Ire it Will you promise?" "I will promise anything you wish." "Then I must tell you that I shall go direct from here to Great Lorton, in order that I may search the hall from the roof to the cellars, if necessary, for proof of your innocence. The first thing I have to find is that parcel of strychnia. Can you help me?" She shook her head doubtfully. "I wish I could; but I cannot recall what I did with it" "By the way," I said, "do you know this!" I took from my pocket the rusted knife or dagger which I had found on my bed on the nizht that I slept at the hall She looked at it and then the color dyed her cheeks once more. "Where did you find it?" she asked. "In my bedroom?the haunted chamber." "Ah, I remember!" she cried, "I remember now where I placed the poison! It is in the secret passage leading to the haunted room." "Do you indeed remember, my darling! Are you sure?" "Quite, quite sure. Stay, let me tell you alL On that night when my uncle heard, after he had said good night to you, of what had passed between us in the garden, he came to my room. I had not gone to bed, for I was thinking of all that you had been saying to me. We had a dreadful scene, as you know. Some one had poisoned his mind. He told me I should never see you again, and I was in despair. Then I remembered that you were to sleep in the haunted room, and that there wa3 a private stair leading to it from the drawing room corridor. I resolved to send you a letter, so that you might not leave the hall thinking that I was unfaithful to you. My maid and I had discovered the passage shortly before, and knew that it led up to your room, which was entered by means of a sliding paneL I wrote the note, and gave it to her to take to your chamber when she was certain you were asleep. She went with it; but returned almost immediately to say that she could not move ID0 P&Q6L W 0 1UUKOU ClUUUV 1U1 Bujuvvuiug by which to open it, and I saw this old knife in its sheath. It was given to me as a curiosity, years ago, by an old sailor. Taylor, my maid, took the knife, and went back to your room. When she returned she told me that she had placed the note upon your pillow, but that at the moment when she did so you had moved in your sleep; and in her fright she had left the room at once, forgetting to bring the knife with her." "Then there was no ghost but the one you sent to me, darling! But about the strychnia; for that is about the most important thing of all now." "I placed it on a shelf over the door by which the secret stair is entered. It was the sight of the knife which reminded me immediately of the plac \ " ^ I rose breathless with excitement "My darling, by God's help, all vj|)l yet be well But 1 must not delay a moment longer now." I strained her in my arms, and kissed her passionately. Half an hour afterwards I was on my way to Great Lorton, having dispatched a telegram to Mr. Eastmead, begging him to meet me at the Barton railway station. I found the chief constable waiting for me on the platform at Barton. Like other men "in the force," he was probably happier when engaged in bringing a criminal to justice than when he was saving an innocent person from an unjust punishment. But in Daisy's case he showed as much zeal as though he bad been one of her personal friends, and I had no need to complain of the interest he displayed when I told him the errand upon which I was bent, and the important facts which I had elicited du ing my visit to the prison. "I want you to accompany me in my search through the hall, Mr. Eastmead, both because you will be an unimpeachable witness regarding any discoveries I may make, and because I may need to appeal to the aid of the law in my task. For you will understand that I shall not do things by halves. This power of attorney makes me .Miss Stancliffe's legal representative, and I shall use all my rights under it, not only to prove her innocence, but, if possible, to discover who the guilty person is." "You have set yourself a hard task. Mr. Fenton," he replied; "but there Is Bomo ^ hope of success; for I am quite certain that, t] as yet, we do not know the truth." o We had to walk from Little Lorton station o to the hall. My interview with Daisy hod taken place in the early morning, and it n was barely two o'clock in the afternoon d when I found myself once more standing on p the broad terrace in front of the quaint old n house. 1< The first person I saw was the evil-omened h Flinter. He came forward with an insolent o air and demanded my business. si "My business, sir, might very well be to p give you into custody for the outrage which I you committed upon me. As it is, 1 am here G in the exercise of my rights, and have noth- ^ ing to say to you." ii "You won't get into the hall, at all events," he said, doggedly. st "Hone of that nonsense," interposed the b chief constable, "or I shall have to take you I Into my hands, my man. Mr. Fenton, I imagine, is the only person who has any rights p here, if it comes to that." v At that moment 1 saw Dr. Branksome h sauntering along the terrace from the direction of the garden. He looked genuinely q surprised when he saw who it was with ^ whom Flinter was having this altercation, q He came forward with quickened step, and v his usual air of bland gravity. j, "Mr. Fenton 1 Mr. Eastmead! This is an fc unexpected pleasure." fc "Possibly," I said, all the suspicions of the v man which during the last few hours had n risen in my mind betraying themselves in t my face and voice. "I am here, however, a Dr. Branksome, as the representative of Miss Stan cliffe, and, as you will see, I am ' accompanied by Mr. E&stmead, as the rep- j resentative of the law." "I think, sir, you forget yourself," replied v Branksome. "1 have no wish to cast any a doubts upon the sincerity of your interest in n the unfortunate lady whose guardian I am, but I have the honor to be the only person n who can claim to be her legal representative." u, My hot blood mounted to my cheeks, and I was about to answer him angrily, when Rl Eastmead again interposed. "This gentleman, Dr. Branksome. acts under a power of attorney from Miss Stancliffe. ^ You will hardly dispute his right to repre- ^ sent her when you know that" r( "A power of attorney 1 Monstrous 1 Im- a] possible! She would never have signed such ^ a document without consulting me." 8j "Dr. Branksome," I said, "we wiil not bandy words, if you please. I hold this ^ power of attorney, and I thank God that I do so; and now 1 am going into this house to look for, and I believe to find, the proofs of C] the innocence of the girl whom you pro- ^ fessed to shield and left to die." tj. "My dear fellow," retorted Branksome, 0J with just the sospicial of a sneer in his Q| tones, "why will you be always so melodra- gt matte! If you had told me at first what jc your object was, you would not have needed any power of attorney to get admittance to tc this home. By all means enter and welcome." a, He threw open the door in front of which we had been standing, and, bowing politely, w waited till we had preceded him. j) In the hall I turned and said, "I have come w here, Dr. Branksome, to make a general ^ search through the home; and although, at w Miss Stanclitfe's legally appointed representative, I can take any course I please, I hate ^ no objection to your accompanying me in jj that search." nj "My good sir," he retorted, "I think you ^ must really excuse me. You have not come m here in a very friendly fashion this after- ^ noon, and you can hardly be surprised if, under the circumstances, I conceive that ic may be more satisfactory to yourself, as it certainly will be to me, that you should go about your work in your own way. At the same time, whenever you wish to luncheon y you will find it on the table, and 1 shall be cc happy to join you. Of course, as Miss Stan- at cliffe's representative, you need have no fee 1- w lng of delicacy about making your wishes in s0 that matter known." Bi His perfect coolness and comj o;ure had or their < ffect upon me, and that lightning d< flash in which 1 had seen him for an instant b< as a villain of colossal iniquity, faded more gi end more completely from my memory. th But I lost no time in beginning my search, cc Mary Taylor, Daisy's maid, was summoned th and came quickly, as did Mrs. Cawthorne, ur who had returned broken-hearted to the hall at the close of the trial. I soon ex- dc plained to the girl that what we wanted to jn 6ee was the door leading to the private rc staircase. She looked somewhat confused m when I told her this; probably she recollscted the last occasion on which she had herself made usb of that door. bt We found that the door was in one of the fr paneled recesses of the drawing room corridor. It had no handle, and any one might have passed it a hundred times without per- er ceiving its existence. Taylor pressed the ey door in the middle, and it slowly opened, revealing^a staircase, narrow, dirty and dusty, a(; beyond. th "Mr. Enstmead," I said, "you represent nt the law, and I leave it to you to make the is fit st attempt to verify the statement which tb Miss Stancliffe has made to me." in "Bring a light here," said the officer; and one of the many servants, who were watching us in wonder, darted into the adjoining H room, and quickly reappeared wilh a lighted oi wax candle. Taking this in his hand, East- w; I - ? i -? l it. _J T 1J T meau passeu inrouga me uoor. x couiu set) him moving the candle to and fro, and then fa he uttered a slight exclamation and closed of the door upon us. Immediately afterward tb he opened it and came out into the corridor, gj begrimed with dust and cobwebs, but w,. ar- tl big an air of triumph on bis face. w "I have found this on the narrow ledge or y< nhelf above the door inside," he said. M He held out to me, as ho spoke, a small w parcel wrapp?d in paper that had once been te wh te. 1 seized it with feverish eagerness. Pasted t pon it was a label, bearing in writ- n( ing the address: "Miss Stancliffe, Great Lor? ton Hail," and in print the word "Poison" in p, large letters, and the name and address of p Smirke, the Little Lorton chemist. The 0f parcel was sealed, and we saw that the seal bore Smirke's name. jj 1 he parcel was sealed. C1 I could not restrain the cry of joy and ta ; thankfulness which broke from my lips. "My friends," I said to the men and j women around me, "your poor mistress will E ! yet be saved." to Mrs. Cawthorne burst into tears, as did tfc most of the women. I can only answer for sii myself among the men. I could not keep in ' back the tears of joy which were welling tc I from my eyes. It now occurred to me that, as most of the st . iw linrl Vvmn noorohn/1 hw tho V I VVXU3 Jll I UU UUU UUU Lrvv<? OVWl VUVU m,j *uv V4J police under Mr. Eastmead himself at the tr time of Daisy's arrest, I might begin my ai own investigation by exploring this secret w passage in wtiich we had already found so important a piece of evidence. Bidding the pi servants remain where they were, we slowly st climbed the narrow winding stair. It led into a corridor equally narrow and very p< long, unlighted and ill-ventilated, so that ce more than once the candle which Eastmead to carried seemed to be on the point of expir- et | ">g- ti: At the end was apparently a blank wall of te j dark oak. But looking closely at it I de- re i tected the place where the girl had intro- at duced the knife on the night when she had fc brought to me the note from Daisy. I had i brought the knife with me, and in another I instant, by means of it, I had caused the tt : panel to slide into a recess. It revealed an w i openin; of the depth of the wall, beyond B j which there was another panel. This 1 was ai able to move without difficulty. I pushed it w i aside with my hand. Still the way was i barred, but up m this occasion it was noth- 01 ing more sub-tantial than the heavy leather hangings of tbe haunted room. Great inge- ]il nuity had been shown in the arrangement by I rhich an opening could be maue at win tirough these hangings without any evidence f its existence being afforded to an occupant f the room. Once more I found myself in that well-re- ' lembered chamber. It looked cold and i ark despite its handsome furniture. Ap- 1 arently it had not been occupied Bince the ight when 1 slept there. I opened the door lading into the little sitting room where I ad breakfasted by myself on the morning n which I left the halL To my surprise it lowed signs of having been recently occu- ' ied. There was a book lying on the table. J recognized it instantly. It was the copy of j kiv and Ferrier's "Forensic Medicine," I rhich I had studied so intently during nay nprisobment on board the yacht "We are in the enemy's stronghold," I aid to Eastmead. And I bade him take the ook in his hand and see where it opened, [e did so with the result which I expected. He shook his head gravely. "I think, Mr. fenton, we shall be justified in taking a ery close look at anything we con find : era" There were several books oh the table, "hey were for the most part old account ooks, some of them bearing F1 inter's name. *hey aprarently related to transactions rhich had taken place some years previously i Australia One volume was of a different ind. It was a cheap metallic memorandum ook, such as a man like Flinter might very rell have used for the purpose of keeping otes of incidents of importance. Eastmead ook it up and opened it. For some time he ppeared to be examining it with a look of ewilderment on his honest face. "I cant make anything of this, can you? s it Greek?" He handed the open book to me, and to ay disappointment I saw that, whatever light be the nature of its contents, I was one the wiser through possessing it Every age was covered with cabalistic marks like othing I had ever seen before. "I think we may as well leave that behind j," said the chief constable. "But I am ling to take these other books to examine t my leisure." I acquiesced for the moment in his proosal to leave the little note book in cipher here we had found it, but before we had )mpleted our close examination of the two >oms I bad changed my mind, and without iy scruple regarding the robbery I was >mmitting upon the unconscious Flinter, I ipped the volume into my pocket. It would be tedious to tell of the long surs which we spent in examining the other irtions of the halL Nowhere did we find iy evidenc9 that seemed to bear on the -ime of which the place had been the scene, ideed, Eastmead warned me beforehand tat this would probably be the result The 16 part of the hall which had escaped his itice on his first visit had been the secret aircase. The other articles which he bad >und, and which might possibly be of use jainst Flinter, had evidently been brought ?the hall after our party had landed from ie yacht, and consequently after Daisy's rest. When our tedious task was completed, we ent to the dining room, where we found r. Branksome awaiting us. Cold meat and ins were upon the table; and we were so loroughly exhausted by our labors that we ere glad to make a hurried meal before deirting to catch the last train to York. I d not care to talk much to Branksome. e had heard of the discovery of the strycha, but said wonderfully little about it I lought, indeed, that for once something ust have occurred to stay the flow of hi3 illiant conversation. CHAPTER XV. JAMES GREGSON'S BTORY. It was late at night when I got back to ork, excited and elated by the great dlstvery I had made. A letter from Harding vaited me, in which he told of the steps he as taking for the purpose of finding Gregn. Through the celebrated detective Max j ielski be believed that he might at last get i his track, though the chase would unmbtedly be a difficult one I did not go to d until I had answered the letter and ven Harding a full account of my visit to e halL I concluded by imploring him to ime to me at once, if that were possible, so tat we might advise as to tile next meases to be taken. "A gentleman is waiting to see you, sir, iwn stairs." It was early the next morng, while I was at breakfast in my private oin at the hotel, that I received this intiation. "Do you know his name?" "No, sir; he would not give me his name, it he said I was to tell you that he came om Mr. Harding." "Show him up at once." The stranger was a short man, with powful frame, clean shaven face, and bright es that seemed to see everything at once. "Beg pardon, sir, for intruding," he said, (dressing me with a business like air; "I ought you might not wish to have my ime spread over the house, for you bee it rather a well-known name now, sir; I am e detective Mr. Harding has been employg on your account I believe." "Mr. Bielski?" "Yes, Max Bielski at your service, sir." e pulled a note book out of his pocket and lening it continued: "I understand you -rr\em*- TXTl+Vl o nopfv ftf thft riftlTIA Clf unes Gregson, aged about thirty, tall and j ir'haired. Well, Mr. Fenton, don't be Fended, but I must tell you at once that at description won't give me any help in iding the man. You see, sir, there are lousands of tall, fair haired men of thirty alking about the streets; as for the name, ju may be sure that Mr. Gregson is not r. Gregson now, if he has any reason to ish to keep in hiding. You will' have to 11 me something more." "But I am afraid that is just what I can>t do." "Well, we'll see, 6ir. You must excuse me j it ting you through your catechism, Mr. ; mton. It must be done if I'm to lay hold : ! your man." And in a surprisingly short space of time I r. Bielski had made himself the master of | 1 the particulars, good, bad and indiffer- j it, which I kbew about Gregson, including i en the story Daisy had told me. When I ! Id him of thd photograph of Daisy I had eked yp in the railway carriage after ; regson left it, he at once asked me for it; id?very reluctantly, for it was the only irtrait of my darling which I possessed?I irted with it to him. At the end of an interview of three-quarrs of an hour the detective pulled out his atcb, and rising hastily said: "I must be i T, sir. I've just time to catch the express j ick to town." "But are you going to London to find regson ( My own opinion is that you'll find j m somewhere about here." "Ttiat is my opinion also, sir; and no jubt if I had three months to spare I could i y a heavy wager that I should 'nab' him this very city of York before the end of at time. But you see, sir, it is a m itter of i Pfe and death; and a single day might make I the difference; so I must follow the safe ew you have given me, and not the uncer,in one." "And what is the safe clew/" "The time about which Gregson landed in ngland from Melbourne. This is all I have i go upon. I must track him down from lat hour to the present. Good day to you, i r." And in another instant he was hurry- ! g off to catch the ten o'clock express to ! >wn. The remainder of that day I spent in con- j iltation with our solicitor, and in awaiting le arrival of Harding. He came to York I / an evening train, and pressed my hand fectionately when we met upon the railay platform. "What do you say, Harding; shall we apy to the home secretary at once on the rengtb of the discovery or the strychnia!" ; "No, ?e must wait. Don't look disapjinted, my dear fellow. As soon as I relived your letter this morning I hurried off i Belmore's chambers and was fortunate lough to get five minutes of his precious me. Indeed, I believe hega*-e me lully fif- 1 en minutes if the truth must be told. I i iad your letter to him and asked him his i Ivice. '1 should like to consult Grange be- 1 ire I say anything,' was his answer." "You mean the judge." "Precisely. Our one hope, you know, is in ! le judge. It will rest with him iu the end hether there i$ to be a pardon or not; and : elmoie, who knows that all his sympathies e on our side, is anxious to take him along ith us in every step." Accustomed as I had been to see in a judge ily the awful being clothed in a mediaeval c"ime, who dispensed life and death, berly >nd slavery, from the judgment seat, j could ha~dly realizj the faac that such a I man should he full of active human sympathy, even on behalf of a fellow creature whom he bad just doomed to the gallows. So it was, however. "Well," continued Harding, "I had a note at four o'clock from Belmore to say that Grange was very much pleased to hear of this discovery, which would of course need to be properly authenticated; but that something further must be obtained?something if possible tending to break down the evidence as to motive?before any steps were taken at the home office. Tou see it 1b not ? +b/\ flAMfnn/ia fliaf WO it CUHIHlUlUWUii ui iuu oouigiivg ^u?w nw | want?it is a free pardon." "Yes," I answered, feeling depressed and disappointed, for I had thought that all our troubles were at an end now that we had discovered the strychnia, "I suppose we must go on, but I confess that I seem to be at the end of my resources." "Now, my good fellow, you must not give up in despair. Let U3 wait until we have caught Gregson. Who knows what he can tell us?" I sat in gloomy meditation. Pour precious days had already passed. It is true that they had not been wasted; but Daisy still lay under her awful doom, which was hourly drawing nearer to her. A heavy sigh broke from my lips. . Harding, evidently anxious to divert my thoughts, asked me to tell him all the particulars of my visit to the hall, and I complied with his request "Have you got the memorandum book you picked up in the room Flinter had been using?" "Yes," I said, and threw it across the table to him. He opened it and looked at it long and carefully. Alas I Nothing was to be made out of it Page after psge was filled with hieroglyphics like the following: .f 4?L- ,t> .' . . , / y / ?_ *"/ ~ " / - T7 c'%**r* f?f>r S. *--' )V.ew'*/*~1 <c v/> i ?<. -i. % </ rf- -t/rf .? <-<9 M i ^ ? * * ^ s ' *, -.V Harding studied the book for nearly half an hour, often making jottings on a sheet of paper and referring again and again to particular pages. He laid it down wearily at last. "I can do nothing with it," he said. "It is evidently some very intricate form of cipher. Such things are to be read, however, and we must have this read. We cannot afford to lose any chance of hitting upon a clew." "But whom can you get to read itf "We must think that over. Perhaps Bielski maybe able to give us some assistance." The next day wr.s spent in a journey to Barton at the request of East meal. From Barton we went with Eastmead to Little Lorton for the purpose of seeing Smirke, the chemist. That person immediately recognized the parcel found in the secret staircase at the hall as being that in which he had wrapped the strychnia sold to Daisy. But he was able to afford additional proof of the identity of the parcel. On removing the sealed outer wrapper he showed us an inner covering, on which the label was repeated, witti the address, and, in addition, the date, "Oct 7," in the chemist's own handwriting. There was, therefore, no longer any doubt that so far as the mere possession of strychnia at the time of the murder was concerned, the evidence given against Daisy at her trial bad been absolutely neutralized. Affidavits describing the discovery and identification of the parcel were duly made on the same day by Smirke, Eastmead and myself before one of the Barton magistrates. Two days passed without any further progress being made. It was a whole week s nee Daisy's condemnation, and only two more remained to us in which to save her. My impatience was at fever height, and Harding had a hard task to keep me in any degree calm or self-possessed. I had not dared to seek another interview with my darling. Until the question of life and death was settled in one way or the other, I felt that to see her once more would only be to torture her uselessly, and to rob me of the little strength which I still had left. But through the chaplain of the jail I was in constant communication with her. Every day 1 wrote to her, and she knew that I was living for her sake and her's alone. This first week, I say, had come to an end before we heard anything more of Bielski. It was Sunday evening, and I was sitting by myself, wearily seeking for some fresh clew which might hitherto have escaped my attention, when the detective was suddenly ushered into my room. "Good evening. Mr. Fenton. I'm afraid you think 1 have been a long time over my work; but it has been as stiff a job as I have had for some time. The fellow has done nothing but double and take fresh names. If it had not been for that photograph you lent me I should have been baffled at last." "And you?have you found him?" I* cried eagerly. "Yes, sir, he's here at your service; but before I bring him in to seo you I should like to give you a hint I don't know whether you'll find him a willing witness or the rever e; but if the latter, just ask him if he remembers Smith & Sharp, of Gracechurch street. That will fetch him soon enough, sir. You see he got into trouble there ten years ago, and has been wanted ever since. I'll wait outside till you have had your talk with him." , He was leaving the room, when Harding, who had just heard of the detective's arrival, entered, and in a few words was informed of me situation. "Let Bielski make himself tiseful while he is waiting," said Harding; "give him that memorandum book." I handed the little notebook to the detective. He looked at it gravely. "I wonder if I can crack this nut? It's a hard one; but I'll try." We withdrew, and in two minutes the door was opened, and Mr. James Gregson entered with the impudentsmile upon his face which I knew so well. Bowing with an air of familiarity, which was not without a distinct touch of insolence, he looked from me to Harding, as though inquiring the reason which had ie;l us to take so much trouble to fjnd him. Beneath this outward assumption of self confidence 1 thought I could catch signs that the fellow was not quite so much at his ease as be wished to appear. I invited him to take a seat, and gravely stated to him the object I had in seeking him out. He looked at me with a satirical smile on his lips when I had finished my statement. "So you think I can clear your friend Miss Stancliffe, do you?" "I hope you can throw some light upon the mystery that surrounds Mr. Mauleverer'a death." He laughed outright. "Of course I can do that; but you have come to the wrong man for information that will clear Miss Daisy. Have you forgotten what I told you in the railway train when you were on your way to the old man's house?" "It is precisely because I have not forgotten it that I have desired to see you again. You spoke then of a conspiracy to commit murder. I want you to be kind enough to tell me frankly what you meant by your words. You remember that you charged not only Miss Stancliffe, but Flinter and Dr. Branksome, ami myself as well, with being in some plot. What did you mean by it?" ho nfVnirf nn vnnr mvn npr?niint._ Mr. Fenton. I know now that you were not in the plot. You were only the dupe, and a very simple one, too." I was determined that, come what might, I should not lose my temper during this interview of such vital importance to my darling. The moro I saw of the man tbo more certain I became that he did not speak without knowledge, and when I observed the growing gravity of Harding's face I felt sure that he also entertained the same conviction. I took no notice, therefore, of Gregson's sneer but repeated my question. "Tell me, if you please, what was the nature of the plot of which you spoke?'' "Is it possible," he retorted, "that you nre so dull as not to see tho nature of the plot for yourself now? I should have given you credit for being not quite so stupid as you appear to ma Good Lord I The whole thing has been carried out under your nose, and now that it is finished you come to me to tell you what it means." "Pray take pity, then, on my stupidity, and tell me all!" "Oh dear, no!" he said with a mocking laugh. "My secret is worth a good deal more to me than it can be to you." "Is it money that you want for telling the truth? If so " "Yes, it is money; but I don't want any from you. You are a very clever fellow, I dare say, in your own opinion, and a very knowing one; but you must not think you can buy me." "Well, kindly say what you are prepared to tell me without being bought" "Just. this, Mr. ? Mr. ? I declare I forget your name. What I told you would happen whan I onw vnn in the train has all come true. JIauleverer has been murdered by the gang who have been plotting against his life for years, and who are now going to get clean off with the swag?all but one of them; and thanks to some stupid blundering on their part?or perhaps 1 ought to say on your part, mister, for I'm told you have meddled a good bit in the business?she'll be hanged. That's alL" The malice of the man revealed, itself in the'tonee in which he spoke. I kept my temper, however, but I saw at the same time that the moment had arrived when I ought to use the weapon intrusted to me by the detective. '"Mr. Greg.-on," I said, "since that is the name by which you choose to call yourself, you are making a great mistake in supposing that I am quite so helpless as you imagine. I have the means of making you speak, and by heaven, sir, I'll me them, and quickly, too, or make you pay dearly for your silence." He looked up at me with a startled air. The fellow was a cur, and at the first straight blow he appeared to be more than inclined to succumb. But he recovered himself after a momentary pause. "I don't know what you are talking about First of all you want to bribe me, and then you try bullying. I've not come here to be either bought or sold." "Then, perhaps, as you don't want to be sold, you will tell me your story without compelling me to summon the detective who is waiting in the next room, in order that I may make a communication to him about yourself and Smith & Sharp, Gracechurch street." The stroke told even more quickly and completely than I had dared to hops. A ghastly pallor overspread the fellow's face, and he sat for more than a minute speechless, staring at me with eyes full of terror. "You don't mean to bring that up against me after all these years? Good God! how have you got to know anything about it?" After a pause he continued: "Well, I'll tell you as much as I can if you'll promise not to fcive mo up. "If you tell me everything, you will be quite safe so far as I am concerned. If you do not, then you must take the consequences." All bis assumed ease had vanished, and he sat before us now as abject a craven as I have ever seen. Bielski's secret had worked like magic. In a faltering voice the wretched creature asked if be might have "a drop of brandy" before he began his story, and I was by no means sorry to supply him with it. Then he began and unfolded the marvelous tale which I shall repeat in bis own words, merely omitting his redundancies of speech. "They have been plotting against Mauleverer over since I've known him, and that is seven years. Whom do I mean by they? I mean Dr. Branksome and his gang; that is, Flinter and the girl Daisy, and a lot of fellows in Australia, and now they have got this Fosdyke in the business. You see it has been a regular company, and they havo been working it for years. Talk of gold mining; but there is no gold mine in all Australia that will yield half so much as Mr. Mauleverer. So you need not wonder that the whole party?there are some of them still over there?have been working at the business for years past At one time I Tcnow they meant to make an end of the old man in his own house at Wangoora. But you see some of them had got a bit blown upon there, and they were afraid that if anything happened it would not do; so then the doctor hit upon a plan of bringing him away to England and getting rid of him quietly, at a time when the worst members of the gang were at the other side of the world." "But how could it profit Dr. Branksome to kill Mr. Mauleverer? He was not his heir." "No; that is just it But tho plot began a great deal sooner than you seem to suppose. It began nearly twenty years ago. At that time Muuleverer had no heir. His only sister had died childless, and there was neither kith nor kin to come after him." "His sister childless! Why, Miss Stancliffe had been born then." "Just so; only in those days sin was Mist Somebodyelse; Miss Stancliffe, as you call her, had not been thought of at that time." Harding uttered a low cry of amazement. I found it difficult, to put the next question. "* W OUt 111 utravcu s uaiuo uu j vu mcaiu "I mean," he said doggedly, "ihat it was a plant from the very beginning! Dr. Branksome and his party were determined to get every farthing of the old man's money. Ho had no heir, and so they found one for him, and planted her on him successfully." "But why should they have fixed upon Miss Stancliffe? Whac goo I did they imagine it would do them, supposing that be did leave everything to her?" The sneering smile appeared on the fellow's face again. "Really," he said, "you are not very bright. They must have found it easy to make a fool of you. Daisy was adopted by the doctor's wife when she was little more than a baby. She lived in the doctor's house for a dozen years or more, and Branksome got such on influence over her that he know ho could twist her round his fingers exactly as he pleased. Why, I bet you two to one that she has made her will in his favor ince her arrest" I could not command my countenance entirely when I heard this direct guess at the truth. It brought with it to my mind a terrible confirmation of the truthfulness of this unwilling witness. "I see you know something about it," he continued. "Well, it is just as I thought it would be. They never meant the girl to share with them. She was to have ail the kicks, while they got all the ha'pence. It would have been different, though, if she had 1st ned to me." "I don't want either to throw doubt npon your story or to seem to accept it without further inquiry; but I must ask you to tell me who. in your belief. Miss Stancliffe is?" "Did I not tell you just now? No. Well, she is the daughter, I am told, of a poor old parson named Sheldon, who died at Melbourne twenty years ago. His wife lived twelve or eighteen months after him, and then she died, too, and Daisy was left a little child, without a friend in the world. It was then, a3 I've said, that Mra Branksome took pity on her, and adopted her. She was a good woman, was the doctor's wife, and he never dared to carry out his plot about Daisy until she was gone. God knows whether he did not help her off in the end. He was equal to it At all events, as soon as she diei, Brankscnn gees to poor old Mauleverer, and tells him the whole tale? the tale ho had made up?how he had kept the secret of Daisy's real birth until then, partly because of his prom're to her mother, and partly for his w.fe's sake, as sn? wouia never have panel with the girl. Mauleverer swallowed the bait whole, and from that time Branksome had complete command, not only over Daisy, but over the old man also." "How have you got to learn all this?" "That's my business," he said in sullen tones. But immediately some swift fear of the consequences of giving me offense took possession of his mind. "If you must know, I learned it all from an old servant of Branksome's whom I got hold of. I always suspected there was something wrong, and after Branksome quarreleJ with me, and got me dismissed by Mauleverer, I wormed the truth out of the old woman." Harding and I were so much astounded by the extraordinary revelation thus made to us that neither of us felt capable of carrying Gregson's examination further. Strange as it may seem, we had no doubt as to the truth of his story. Rascal as the fellow unmistakably was, he had told his tale in a manner which compelled our acceptance of it. I sat bewildered, almost paralyzed, by the nature of his statements. Daisy not the niece of Mauleverer! And Branksome the head of a gang of scoundrels, whose diabolical plot against the life of the millionaire had only now been carried out, after years of careful preparatiou! It seemed iucredi ble, and yet in my heart I felt certain that it was true. Harding was tho first to recover the full use of his faculties. "Will you be good enough," he said, addressing Gregson, "to give us your opinion, if you have one, as to tho way in which Mr. Mauleverer was murdered?" "I thought you knew ail about that. Daisy Stancliffe gave him the poison instead of his powder that night," By a look Harding warned me to keep calm. "Do I understand," he pursued, "that, in your opinion, NMiss Stancliffe?for so, I think, wo may still call her?administered the poison knowingly?" "Why, put it to your own sense, sir. Somebody gave the old gentleman his dose that night. It was not done by Branksome, or by Flinter, or by Fosdyke, nor by Mr. Fenton here. Who did it? Not any of the English servants at Great Lorton. There's none of them in the secret, I am sure. Don't you see it must Have Deen aone Dy ine gin who had been brought up for that very purpose?ever since she was a baby!" "NoI" I cried, regardless of Harding's appealing glance. "I do not see it God only knows how the thing was done, but if Miss Stancliffe was the accomplice of these villains, she was an unconscious and an innocent one." "Then will you tell mo how the thing was done? Why, you know yourself that neither Branksome nor Flinter had been near the hall for weeks before the old man died; and they were a thousand miles away when the dose was given." I put my hand to my forehead wearily. "Ah, if I could only tell you how it was done! I have thought, and thought over everything till my brain has grown giddy. There is only one theory that has even a chance in its favor, and of that, alas! if it be the true one, we can never obtain the proof." "And what may that theory be?" asked Gregeon, with an air of interest I hesitated as to whether to reveal my idea to him. It was one which had occurred to me more than once during the long sleepless watches of the night; but I had said nothing of it to any one, chiefly, I think, because it was but, and in the nature of things never could be anything more than, a theory. Unless a miracle were to happen, no proof of it, short of the confession of the criminals, could ever be adduced. Still, it might be well to hear Gregson's opinion of it "May it not hare been possible," I said, "for a powder containing Btrycnnia to nave been secretly substituted by Flinter for one containing Mr. Mauleverer's proper medicine? In that case Flinter might be able to prove an alibi, although be was really the culprit; and Miss Stancliffe may have given the poison to Mr. Mauleverer, although perfectly innocent of any knowledge of its nature." I heard a low chuckle and looked up. Bielski had entered the room while I was speaking and had heard my theory: "I beg youf pardon, gentlemen. I knocked twice, but I could not make you hear ma You'll excuse me, Mr. Fenton, but I should like to tell you that you have got on the right track at last. As soon as Mr. Harding told me the facts I saw the trick had been done in that way. But lor I What a pity Mr. Belmore didn't bring it out before the jury 1" "Got all you want out of this gentleman?" "I hinted at it to him," I replied, "but he seemed to think it would only damage our case, as no proof could be tendered in support of it" "True, that is the weak point; but you know. sir. I suppose, that murder has been done that way before? Aye, and an innocent man guillotined for the crime of which he knew nothing. I think, after all, Mr. Bel more was right not, to suggest this while the mystery of the strychnia that the young lady had bought was unexplained. It would have been too far-fetched then. But things are different now, and the home secretary will have to think whether, after all, tha evidence will justify him in refusing u re* prieve. For my part, Mr. Fentou, I'll put my money on a respite.'' Bielski looked round at Gregson and evidently judged from the state of that gentleman's features that the screw had been applied to him not ineffectually. "Got all you want out of this young gentleman?" he asked. "Enough for the present, eh? Well then, my good fellow, take your hook into the next room and wait there till I come to you. Don't trouble yourself about the door. It is locked and I have the key in my own pocket." The detective winked knowingly at the unlucky Gregson and in this unceremonious manner dismissed him from our presenc . [TO BK CONTINUED NEXT WEEK.] Heresy in New England.?Dr. Woodrow is not the only preacher who is in trouble as to his theological views and departure from the standards. There are now five professors of the old Andover Theological Seminary on trial for supposed heresies. They are Egbert C. Smyth, Professor of Churcn History and President of the Faculty; William J. Tucker, Professor of Elocution; George Harris, Professor of Systematic Theology, and Edward Y. Hyncks, Professor of Biblical Theology. These are considered the representative men of the liberal or progressive school of theology in the Congregational Church of New England. The theology is Calvanisticand these professors have published a joint work entitled "ProgressiveOrthodoxy/' We have not seen it, but it is probably like Mulford's and Hunger's contributions to theology, much tainted with novel and unsound views, however, original or brilliant the setting. There are sixteen counts in the charge brought against the Andover Professors. Among other things it is supposed that these "progressives" believe that the heathen will have a probationary state after death. They reject the dogma that men will be punished who have no "knowledge of the historic Christ." If this be so, then the Romans, Greeks, and all heathen nations are to be congratulated, for their condition is far more desirable than the condition of any modern Christian nations, and the very worst thing that could be done would be to send them a knowledge of the historic Christ, whom fivesixths of them would reject and consequently be damned. These Andover "wise men" have discovered that the Bible "is fallable and untrustworthy," according to one of the counts, and that "faith ought to be scientific and natural, rather than Scriptural." There is more of the same dreary stuff. If guilty they ought to be jerked out of their places they so foully abuse because they violate the very terms of the contract?that they were to teach the recognized doctrines of a specified body of divinity.? Wilmington Star. Society is just like a pie; there is an upper crust and a lower crust, but the real strength and substance lies between them. IpgttUatiwtiS fUadiug. NEW YORK HANGINGS. A great many customs surround a hanging in New York. They have been modified by law, which allows only the sheriff and assistants, twenty deputy sheriffs, a sheriff's jury, the judges of the higher courts, the district attorney, the doctors and the hangman to be present. Formerly the coroner could bring a party of his friends as jurors, and the sheriff gave out cards of invitation as he would to a ball. That has been stopped, and Sheriff Grant keeps the number of spectators down to the lowest legal number. It is customary | for the sheriff to present the man to be hanged, when he is poor, with a black suit to be hanged in. The care of the city for his burial goes no further than to see that he gets to potter's field. It is the dutv of the sheriff to be per sonally presentat a hanging. One sheriff dodged this duty once by going to Long Branch. In a case like that the under sheriff has charge. The hanging is set down for as early an hour as possible in the morning to avoid a crowd. The sheriff and his deputies, dressed in mourning, gather at the sheriff's office and march to the Tombs. Each bears his staff of office. At the hanging they take off their hats as soon as the weights fall, and put them on when the body is cut down. In a case on the wall in the sheriffs office are a score of staves and two swords. The staves have been present at every hanging since the time that no man can recall. They are about thirty inches long, and are made of dark hardwood. The middle is covered with thin dark velvet. On each end is a brass tip shaped like an Indian arrowhead. The sheriffs staff has a crutch at one end instead of a dart, and the under sheriffs has a crook. The two swords have not heen taken to a hanging for a long time. No matter where in the State a hanging may be the staves are sent for and the sheriffs men carry them. They would as soon think of trying to have a hanging without a rope as without their staves. They are a relic of colonial days, when a hanging would draw as large an assemblage as a circus, and the officers who had charge of it appeared pompously in their official robes. The same gallows, rope, noose and weights are used time after time until they are lost or wear out. The gallows 1 i. r ? ^1^1 rru? now in use is ttuoui lour years uiu. xnc uprights are about five inches square and fifteen feet high. The cross piece is the same size. The construction is simple, and it is easy to take the gallows apart and put it away. The only trace left on the gallows by a hanging is the mark of the axe where it cuts through the rope that keeps the weight from falling. Two men do all the hangings in New York. One is a short, lean man, with Hebrew features. He has thin, full beard that curls, dark hair, mild eyes and a shrinking face. The other man is a short, stout German, partially bald, with a black-gray mustache. He is in charge. These two men have a numberAf names. They do not want to be known, and the sheriff himself has nothing further to do with them than to give them charge of the arrangements and to pay the bill. The one man is commonly known as Isaacs, and the other as Minzesheiraer. The bills are made out to Joseph B. Atkinsbn. The cost of hanging varies from two to five hundred dollars. The men are hangmen not only in New York, but they travel around over the State and country. Hanging is their trade.?-.New York Star. ? HEALTHY AND UNHEALTHY OCCUPATIONS. The first place among healthy occupations is held by ministers of religion, the death rate of this class being 555. Next we have gardners and nursery-men, who stand at 500; farmers and graziers, 631; agricultural laborers, 701; schoolmasters, 718; the other trades which follow closely on these being grocers, coal merchants, paper manufacturers, lace and hosiery manufacturers, wheel-wrights, ship-builders and ship-wrights and coal miners. The figures of mortality of all these trades is under 775. On the other side, that of unhealthy occupations, the first place is held by the trades which are concerned in the manufacture and distribution of intoxicating drink, which, as is well known, entail many temptations to use it to excess. The list of unhealthy occupations is headed by the class of inn and hotel servants, whose figure mounts up to 2,205, being nearly double that of the medical profession. The highest place next to them are held by the general laborers and coster-mongers, hawkers and street sellers, the former class with 3,020, IOHAM nn'fVi 1 Q7G Tf I'Q nrnhohlo auu uic ianci mm |/4Vui*m4v that both are largely made up of broken men, the wrecks of other callings. Innkeepers, publicans, spirit, wine and beer dealers follow with a figure of 1,521 and brewers with 1,361. In support of the belief that these high rates of mortality are chiefly due to alcoholic excess. Dr. Ogle has compared with them the mortality assigned to diseases of the liver, the organ through which such excess chiefly declares itself, and has obtained results which are entirely in harmony with those of the trade returns. Next to the trades concerned with alcohol, the highest rates are furnished by occupation, which involve the breathing of dust?other than coal dust?and especially of a sharp and gritty character, or largely composed of mineral matter; next, those in which there is exposure to lead poisoning, as with plumbers, painters apd filemakers. The earthenware manufacturers, who are much exposed to mineral dust, have a figure of 1,712; file-makers, who work upon a leaden cushion, reached 1,667, and plumbers and painters, who are also exposed to lead, reach 1,202.?Chambers* Journal. The Mullen Test in Consumption.? The success attending the treatment *>f consumption with mullen leaves by Quinlan, of Dublin, and which has been so widely published, has led him to make a formulated statement, showing briefly that in the earlier and pretubercular stage of pulmonary consumption mullen has a weight-increasing and curative power, greater than that of cod liver oil, and equal to that of Russian koumiss. In cases where tubercles are well established or cavities exist, the mullen has great power in relieving cough; phthisical diarrhea is completely obviated by the mullen ; but it has no power or effect on the night sweats of consumption, which are to be combated by attropia sulphate. Three ounces of the fresh green leaves, or about ten times as mucn 01 tne ariea, are boiled in a pint of fresh cow's milk, and after boiling a moment the infusion is allowed to stand and "sipe" for ten minutes, when it is strained, sweetened and drank while warm. This quantity is taken twice or three times a day. It is generally much relished by the patients, who regard it as a pleasant article of diet, rather than as a medicine. The smoke of these leaves, inhaled into the respiratory passages, relieves irritation and spasmodic coughs.? Chicago Tribune. The Lawyer's Stratagem.?A New York hotel clerk vouches for the truth of the following story: A country guest at a certain uptown hostelry, having a dread I of pickpockets and bunco steerers, went to the clerk and handed him a $100 bill to be put in the safe. Asking for it next day he was thunderstruck when the functionary to whom he had given the money coolly denied any recollection of the matter. Whereupon the countryman went to a lawyer. "Get another $100 bill," said the lawyer, "and go, accompanied by a friend, back to the hotel. Apologize to the clerk for your mistake; say it was a defect of memory; attribute it to drink or absent-mindedness; deposit the second $100 in the presence of your friend, and come back to me." The mystified ruralist obeyed instructions to the very letter. "Now," said the lawyer, "go back alone .to the clerk and ask him for the $100. Knowing that your friend saw him receive it ne will give back the second $100 bill. Then take your friend with you next day, approach the clerk, ask him boldly for that $100, and as there was no witness to your receipt of the second bill he will be forced to return the first also." The ruse proved completely successful. The lawyer sent his bill next day. It was for a fee of $100.?New York World. ? BENJAMIN FOLSOM. Mr. Benjamin Folsom, of Buffalo, who has received the appointment of United States Consul at Sheffield, England, to succeed Mr. C. B. Webster, is the cousin of Mrs. Cleveland. He accompanied Mrs. Folsom and her daughter in their recent travels through Europe and also accompanied them on their homeward bound trip in June last. The appointment naturally excites much interest of partly political and partly sentimental nature, as the appointee is so closely allied in relationship to Mrs. Cleveland, and he is everywhere widely and favorably known, and designated by the familiar epithet of "Cousin Ben." He figured at the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Cleveland as the only male representative of the bride's family. He is said to be a good hearted, easy natured young gentleman and there are few Democrats who will grudge him his office or its pecuniary compensation, although all indications point very strongly toward nepotism on Mr. Cleveland's action in this appointment. In the form erdays of President Cleveland's administration, he was decidely opposed to giving a relative of his own, or any relative of the Cabinet or other official, a position, on account of the alleged favoritism to relatives, which he wished to avoid. Mr. Folsora has been a candidate for several positions and for the Sheffield consulate, especially, for years. He worked hard to elect Mr. Tilden in 1876, expecting to obtain this office as his reward, buthis plans were frustrated ar went far astray on this occasion. Again in 1880 he worked for General Hancock with the same object in view and when Grover Cleveland was nominated, Mr. Folsom put all his energies to work and at last won his appointment through the election of President Cleveland. This is the alleged offical explanation which noue but the sorely disappointed will presume to discredit as the appointment was won by the efforts of Mrs. Benjamin Folsom alone. WHEN NOtTtO DRINK. Moderate drinkers engaged in pursuits calling for judgment and acumen, and who use liquors during business hours, ' end, with scarcely an exception, as financial wrecks, however successful they may be in withstanding the physical consequences of their indulgence. Thousands who retain theirhealth and are never ranked as victims of intemperance, lose their property, wreck their business and are thrown into bankruptcy because of tipplinghabitsduring business hours. These men are not drunkards, and only close observers can detect the influence of strong drink in their deportment; but nevertheless liquor gives them false nerve, makes them reckless, clouds the judgment, and soon involves them in bad purchases, worse sales, and ruinous contracts. Sooner or later it is shown that the habit of tippling during business hours is a forerunner of bankruptcy. Let every drinker review his business transactions for a series of years and answer whether this statement is not true. Liquor acts on the brain in the same manner as chloroform or ether, producing a stimulation which affects cool thought, followed by a depression corresponding to the amount of the dose. What man would expect to succeed in business if he were accustomed to take, while at work, even very slight whiffs of ether, chloroform, or laughing-gas and keep himselfifll the time, more or less under such beclouding influ n c\ 1- ? "Ann niinn if uhlo tn TIFP ences oucu ? mnu, hvh .. ? ? x? serve his health, would grow reckless, loquacious, and soon prove no match tor a clearheaded rival. Liquor is an indispensable ally wherever victims are systematically fleeced, and its effects are seen also in the rivalries of legitimate business. The professional gambler keeps a free bar, but never drinks himself when at the table; and, while a sober, clear-headed, honorable merchant, dealer or operator would not endeavor to ply his rival with liquor, he would gain great advantages from the latter's self-sought indulgence. Liquor shows its victims not only, in saloons and gambling dens, but about boards of trade and stock exchanges and in every line of business requiring a clear, cool head. Moderate drinkers who attempt to do business with even slightly excited brains are men who are all the time making losses and going to the wall. Chicago Tribune. ? ? The Manufacture of Hairpins.? For years the English and French controlled the manufacture of hairpins, and it is only within the last twenty years that the goods have been produced in this country to any extent. The machinery used is of a delicate and intricate character, as the prices at which pins are sold necessitates the most rapid and cheapest process, which can only be secured by automatic machines. The wire is made expressly for the purpose, and put up in large coils, which are placed on reels, and the end of the wire placed in a clamp, which carries it to the machine while straightening it; from there it runs in another machine, which cuts, bends, and by a delicate and instantaneous process, sharpens the points. Running at full speed, these machines will turn out 120 hairpins every minute. To economize it is necessary to keep them working night and day. The difficult part of the work is the enamelling which is done by dipping in a preparation and baking in an oven. Here is where the most constant and careful attention is required, as the piu must be perfectly smooth and the " ' - ??~i. mi 1 enamel nave a perieccpousn. iue bukiht est particles of dust cause imperfections and roughness which is objectionable. <* ? Fees of Doctors.?The Medicinixche Zeitung complains that while London has but one doctor to every 3,000 inhabitants Vienna has one for every 1,500, and its practitioners must put up with smaller fees. Sir Spencer Wells is cited as receiving $50,000 or $60,000 for a single operation. In Paris Dr. Pean is mentioned as having a professional income of $140,000, and Dr. Koeberle, of Strasburg, is stated to have received a fee of 8100,000 for attending a Spanish princess.