Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis >i. grist, proprietor, j Jfnbqpknt Jfamilj fttfospajjtr: Jfor f|t promotion of f\t |)oItfitaI, ^orial, ^.gricnllural airb Commtrtial Jnfmsts of fj)t Soutjt. jTERMS--$2.50 A YEAR, IN ADVANCE. "VOL. 33~ YORKYILLE, S. O.. WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 1887. ^TO- 45. jfrrial Sftstg. THE NINE OF HEARTS. BY B. L. FARJEON. PART THE FIRST. THE TRIAL OF EDWARD LAYTON. CHAPTER VI. DESCRIPTION OF THE LAST DAY'S PROCEEDINGS?EXTRACTED FROM A DAILY PAPER. - "The trial of Edward Layton' for the murder of hi3 wife came to a singular and unsatisfactory termination late last night. That the public interest in the cose had reached an almost unprecedented height was proved by the large number of persons who were unable to obtain admission to the court. "On the previous evening the evidence for the prosecution had closed, and there Was a painful and eager expectancy in the minds/if.*11 the line of de fense which the prisoner Intended to adopt. This line of defense?if indeed it can be called a defense?was as surprising as it was brief. "The prisoner, addressing the judge and jury, intimated that it was not his intention to call witnesses on his behalf. Most of the witnesses for the prosecution, he said, had given their evidence fairly, and if they had committed themselves to misstatements and discrepancies, it was more because they were either misled or mistaken?in the case of one witness, Ida 'White, because she was strangely prejudiced against him?than that they had a desire to make the case against him even blacker than it was. It had happened before, and would doubtless happen again, that a man found himself thrust into such an unhappy position as he himself stood through no fault of his own, and that he was unable to say or do anything to prove his innocence. Sometimes it was with such a man a matter of honor, sometimes a matter of conscience. In his own case it sprung from both his honor and his conscience that his lips were sealed, and the utmost he could say for himself was that he was an innocent man, with so dark an array of evidence against him as to almost incontestably prove him to be guilty. All that he could do was to declare most solemnly that the accusation upon which he was being tried was false, and that he stood before them as unstained by crime as they were themselves. What could be said truly in his favor was that his character, and to some extent his blameless life, were a refutation of the charge. Evidence of character was generally called in mitigation of impending punishment. He did not intend to call such evidence, because, by so doing, it would be a half admission that he stood there a guilty instead of an innocent man. He knew perfectly well how lame and impotent these weak words must sound in the ears of those who were sitting in judgment upon him; but this he could not help. It was but part of the fatal web in which he was entangled. That he and his wife had lived unhappily together was not to be disputed; but even in this most serious crisis of his life he denied the right ni-mcrof-.Ai'l Viv t.hn lpcrnl T>rnfpssinn tn rip open a man's private affairs and expose to the vulgar gaze what he desired should be hidden from it. The last thing he would do, even if he had been in ten times the peril in which he then stood, was to drag other persons into the case, and to allow them to be blackened and vilified as he had been. T can scarcely doubt,' said the prisoner, 'what your verdict will be. Were I in your place I should most likely decide as you will decide; but none the less will it be a solemn fact that, though you are legally right, you are morally wrong. I must bo content to let the case rest as it has been presented to you, and to abide the issue, though it may cost me my life.' "Never in a criminal court, in the case of a man arraigned upon so grave a charge, has there been heard a defense so weak and strange; but it is nevertheless a fact that the prisoner's earnest .and, to all appearance, ingenious manner produced a deep impression upon all who heard him, and when he ceased speaking there was, in the murmurs of astonishment that followed, an unmistakable note of sympathy. "After a slight pause the attorney general rose to sum up the case against the prisoner, and his incisive judicial titterances soon dispelled the impression which the prisoner's earnestness had produced. He said that in the circumstances of the case his speech would be briefer than it j otherwise would have been. He had a ; duty to perform and he would perform it, . without, he hoped, any undue severity or harshness. Unhappily the evidence was only too clear against the prisoner, and unhappily the prisoner had strengthened the case against himself. This was not a matter of sentiment; it was a matter of justice, and justice must be done. With slight limitations, around which the prisoner threw a veil of silence, contenting himself to cast suspicion upon them by some kind of mysterious implication which no person could understand, and not venturing to give them a distinct and indignant denial?with slight limitations, then, the prisoner had admitted the truth- i fulness of the evidence brought against i him. As the prisoner had not directly referred to these ?doubtful j points in the evidence, he would him- i self do so and endeavor to clear away I any latent doubt, if such existed, in the minds of the jury. First, with respect to the ulster. The prisoner did not deny that he wore this ulster on tho whole of the day his coachman, John Moorhouse, was driving him to various places, and it was only upon Ids arrival home at midnight that he endeavored to shake the coachman's evidence as to whether, when he entered the carriage, upon leaving Prevost's restaurant, and upon his issuing from the carriage when the coachman drew up at his house, he still had his ulster on. What his motive was in endeavoring to shake the coachman's testimony upon this point it was impossible to say. He (the learned counsel) had most carefully considered the ' matter, and the only conclusion he could arrive at was that the prisoner was anxious to instil a doubt into the minds of the jury, that It was not he who left the restaurant at 11:50 and sntered his carriage, and that it was not he who alighted from the carriage and opened his street door. But supposing, for instance, that this argument had a foundation in fact, was it not easy for the prisoner to prove what he had done with himself between 11:50 on the night of the 25th of March and 7 o'clock on the morning of the 26th? Surely some person or persons must have seen him. and had he produced those persons there would have been a reasonable alibi set up, which it would be the duty of every one engaged in this case seriously to consider. Indeed, lie would go so far as to say that, admitting such evidence to be brought forward and established, there could not be found a jury who would convict the prisoner of the charge brought against him. It would then have been proved that the prisoner had not seen his wife from 11 o'clock on the morning of the 25th of March until 7 o'clock on the morning of the 26th; and as it was during the night of those days that the unhappy lady met her death, it would have been impossible to bring the prisoner in guilty. But, easy as this evidence must have been to produce, there is not only no attempt to produce it, but in his lamentably impotent speech the prisoner does not even refer to it. In his mind then, and in the minds of all reasonable men, there could not be a doubt that this was the case of one who, in despair, was catching at a straw to save nimseu. me teamen euuuvu luum briefly but incisively upon every point in the evidence concerning which the prisoner had maintained silence and had made no endeavor to confute. For instance, there was the lady whom he met in Bloomsbury square, whom he took toPrevost's restaurant, whom he regaled with a supper which neither he nor she touched?a distinct proof that they were otherwise momentously occupied. The evidence with respect to this lady is irrefragable. She was no shadow, no myth, no creation of the imagination; she was a I veritable being of flesh and blood. All the efforts of the prosecution had failed to trace her, and the just deduction was that she was somewhere in hiding, afraid to come forward lest she might be incriminated and placed side by side with the prisoner in the dock. The prisoner did not deny her existence, nor that she and he were for several hours in company with each other. Were he innocent what possible doubt could exist that he would bring her forward to establish his innocence? Were both innocent, would not she of her own accord step forward to prove it? The prisoner in his address made certain allusions to honor and conscience, by which he would make it appear that he was guided by his honor and" his conscience in the singular method of his defense; and it may )>e that there existed in him some mistaken sense of chivalry which induced him to do all in his power to screen the partner in his crime. It would have been better for him had he brought his honor and his conscience to bear in the unhappy engagement into which he entered with the unfortunate lady who afterward became his wife; but it had been amply proved that the marriage was not, on his side at least, a marriage of affection. Distinctly ho married her for her money, and distinctly ho would be a great gainer by her death. Thns, men, mere e.Yisieu a uiuuvc, emu nut <? novel one?for the tragedy lias been played many times in the history of crime ?for his getting rid of her. Ho (the counsel of the prosecution) did not wish to press hardly upon the prisoner, who was a man of culture and education and must feel keenly the position in which he stood, whatever might be his outward demeanor. But it devolved upon him to impress upon the jury not to allow any false sentiment to cause them to swerve from the straight path of duty. They must decide by the evidence which had. been presented to them, and it was with a feeling the reverse of satisfactory that he pointed out to them that this evidence could lead to but ono result. "The summing, up of the learned judge (which, with the attorney general's speech, will be found fully reported in other columns) was a masterly analysis of the evidence which had been adduced. He impressed upon the jury the necessity of calm deliberation, and of absolute conviction before they pronounced their verdict. Circumstantial evidence was, of all evidence, the most perplexing and dangerous. It had, in some rare instances, erred; but these exceptions were, happily, few and far between. It had, on the other hand, led to the detection of great criminals, and without its aid many lieiiw ous aggressors against the law would' slip through the hands of justice. He dismissed the jury to their duty, and he prayed that wisdom might attend their deliberations. "At 3:30 o'clock the jury retired, and it was the general impression that tho case would be ended within the hour. The prisoner sat in the dock, shading his eyes with his hand. Not once did ho look up to the court. He seemed to be preparing himself for his impending fate. But 4 o'clock, 5 o'clock, 0 o'clock passed, and the suspense grew painiui. it wiis eieur that there was not that agreement between the jury which all the court, including even the prisoner, had expected. At 6:20 the foreman of the jury entered the court, and informed the judge that there was no chance of the jury agreeing upon a verdict. "The Judge?Is there any point of law upon which you desire information? "The Foreman of the Jury?Xone, my lord. "The Judge?Is there any discrepancy in the evidence 'which the jury wish cleared? "The Foreman of the Jury?No, my lord. It is simply that we cannot agree. "The learned judge then intimated that, after so long and patient a trial, he could not lightly dismiss the jury from their duties, and he bade the foreman again retire to a further consideration of the case. The court, he said, would sit late to receive the verdict. "Seven o'clock, 8 o'clock, 9 o'clock passed, and then the learned judge sent fpr the foreman of the jury and inquired whether any progress had been made toward an agreement. "The Foreman of the Jury?Xone, my lord. There is no possible chance of the jury agreeing upon a verdict. "It was remarked that no person in court appeared to be more surprised than the prisoner, and when the jury were called in and dismissed by the judge from their duties Edward Layton, before he was removed from the dock by the jailors, leaned eagerly forward to scan their countenances. "Nothing further transpired, and this unexpected chapter in the Layton mystery was closed." PART THE .SECOND, TIIE CABLE MESSAGE FROM AMERICA. At 10 o'clock on the night following this exciting day Mr. Bainbridgc, Q. C., ana ins iriena nr. uumcourt were enacting together in th? dining room of the lawyer's house. They had met by appointment, and were now conversing over the strange incidents of the Layton trial. "Its termination," said Dr. Daineourt, "is in harmony with the whole of the proceedings. I am afraid, when Layton is put again upon his trial, that there will be no further disagreement on the part of the jury, and that his conviction is certain." "With the evidence as it stands at present," said Mr. Bainbridge, thoughtfully, "you are right in your conclusion. But there is here a mystery to be brought to light which, discovered, may le&d to a different result. Almost unfathomablo as this mystery now appears to be, its unravelment may, after all, depend upon a very slender thread. Fortunately, Layton's second trial cannot take place for a month. Before the month expires I hope to be able to lay my hand upon evidence which will prove him innocent of the charge." "To judge from his attitude," said Dr. Daineourt, "he is indifferent as to the result." "You are mistaken," said the lawyer; "it is only that ho will not owe his release to certain means which I believe it to be in his power to disclose. Has it not occurred to you that he has been anxious all through to keep something in the background?" "Yes," replied Dr. Daineourt, "that has been my impression; but it might { be something which would more lirmly | fix his guilt. Is it your intention to follow i up the case?" "To the last link in the chain." I "The chain, if there be one, is safely hidden, and I cannot for the life of me I see a single link." Mr. Bainbridge, leaning back in his , chair, did not reply for a few moments, | and then he said: "I linvc two links to commence with. | One of these is shadowy; the other is eerj tain and tangible." And then,-with tho : air of a man whose thoughts were 011I gaged upon an important subject, he ex1 claimed, "If I could only discover its [ meaning?" "The meaning of what?" The lawyer took a pack of cards from a i drawer and selected a card, which he ! handed to I)r. Daineourt. "The nine of hearts," said the doctor. "The card," said the lawyer, "that was ; found in the pocket of Layton's ulster." "Is this your tangible link?" asked Dr. j Daineourt, turning the card over in his hand. "It is my tangible link," replied tho lawyer. Dr. Daineourt shrugged his shoulders. I "You are adding mystery to mystery." 1 think not," sum me lawyer. ton wore not in the court when the nine of hearts was produced." "No." "That and the lajtch key of Layton's | street door were the only articles found in j the pockets of the ulster. When the evi| cence relating to these articles was being I given, I closely observed Layton's face. I | knew, but lie did not, that these two artiI cles were all that were discovered in the I pockets of the incriminating coat. When the latch key was held tip lie smiled faintly; he was not surprised. But when the nine of hearts was produced there flashed into, his eyes a startled look?a look of be* Wllderment ana astonishment; indeed, there was something of horror in his face. I needed no further sign to make me positive that he had no previous knowledge of the card, and that it was the first time he had seen it." "Something of horror, you say." ' "It was my impression, and I cannot account for it. Not so with his bewilderment and astonishment. To my mind they are easily explained." "He asked no questions concerning the card?" remarked Dr. Daincourt. "He asked no questions," said the law, yer, somewhat irritably, "concerning ^ hundred matters upon which the witnesses should have been hardly pressed. Can you not see that this accentuates my conviction that the nine of hearts is a linkin the chain?" "Yes, supposing you had not already arrived at a false conclusion with respect to poor Layton's knowledge of the possession of the card." "I will stake my life and reputation," said the lawyer, earnestly, "upon the correctness of my conclusion. I will stake my life and reputation that, until that moment, Edward Layton did not know that the card was in his pocket." "Then somebody must kayo placed it there." "As you say, somebody must have placed it there." "But in the name of all that is reasonable," exclaimed Dr. Daincourt, "what nr>Qoihlf> f>?vnn<v>t.inTi ran vnn trnrft hotWPpn a playing card, whether it be the ace of clubs or the king of spades, or the nine of hearts?it matters not which?what possible connection can you find between any playing card and the awful charge brought against Lay ton?" "That," said the lawyer, drumming upon the table with his fingers, "is what I have to discover. You do not know, doctor, upon what slight threads the most important issues hang." "I think I do," said Di\ Daincourt, witli a smile. "I do not refer to the general issues of human life," said the lawyer, in explanation; "I refer to legal matters, especially to criminal cases the solution of which rests upon circumstantial evidence. Circumstances the most remote, and apparently absolutely worthless and trivial, have been woven by a legal mind into a strand strong and firm enough to drag a prisoner out of the very jaws of death." "And this nine of hearts is one of those slender threads?" said Dr. Daincourt, in a tone of incredulous inquiry. "Very likely. You may depend I shall not lose sight of it." "You spoke of two links," said Dr. Daincourt, "and you have shown me that which yon believe to be a tangible one. What is tho link which you say is shadowy and less dependable?" "I will explain. The jury were discharged, being unable to agree upon their verdict. It may leak out through the press by and by?pretty much everything does leak out through the press nowadays ?but it is not known at present to the public how many of the jury were for pronouncing the prisoner guilty and how many for pronouncing him innocent." "I have heard rumors," said Dr. DainCOUJ-t. "I," said the lawyer, "have positive Information. Eleven of them declared him guilty, only one held out that he was Innocent. Arguments, persuasions, logical inferences and deductions, the recapitulation of the evidence against him?all were of no avail in this one juryman's eyes. lie would not be convinced; he would not yield. He had made up his mind tliut the prisoner was innocent, and that lie, at least, would not be instru mental in sending him from the dock a felon." "I can see nothing in that," said Dr. Dalncourt. "There are," continued the lawyer, "In civil and criminal records, instances of a & like nature, some of which have been privately sifted, with strange results, nfter the cases have been finally settled. I recollect one case which may bear upon this of Layton's. I do not say it does, but it may. It occurred many years ago, and the jury were locked up a barbarous length of time without being able to come to an agreement. There was no possible doubt, circumstantially, of the prisoner's guilt; the evidence was conclusive enough to convict twenty men. One person, however, would not give in, and that person was on thq jury. The prisoner was tried again and unhesitatingly acquitted. During the time that had elapsed between the first and second trials additional evidence was found which proved the prisoner to be innocent. The juryman who held out on the first trial happened to have been borne years before a friend of tl?e prisoner, a tact, of course, which was not known when the jury was empanelled. After the result of the second trial he publicly declared that lie had been guided by his feelings and not by the evidence." "And you think that something of the sort may have happened in this case?" "Had you been on the jury, what would have been your verdict?" "Guilty." "Had I been on the jury, what would have been my verdict? Despite my firm conviction that Layton is an innocent mau, I should have brought him in guilty. It was not my opinion I had to be guided by, it was the evideuce; and the evidence in Layton's case, as it was presented to the court and appears in the papers, indisputably proclaims him to be a guilty man. Again, when the verdict was pronounced I watched his face; again I saw there a startled look of wonder and astonishment; to his own mind the evidence against him was conclusive. Then it was that I observed liim for the first time gaze upon the jury with some kind of interest and attention. Not once during the trial had lie looked at them in any but a casual way, and I should not be surprised to learn that lie was ignorant of their names. This is most unusual. Ordinarily a prisoner pays great attention to the jury upon whose verdict his fate hangs. He gazes upon them with deepest anxiety, he notes every change in their countennnc *s, is despondent when he believes it tu be against him, is hopeful when he believes it to be in his favor. Not so with Layton. When the jury were empanelled, and their names called over, lie paid not the slightest attention to them; lie did not turn 111s eyes toward them: ho might have been both deaf and blind for all the interest he evinced." "Perhaps you are not aware," said the doctor, "that he is very short sighted, and that without his glasses it would have been impossible for him to distinguish their features." "I am quite aware of it," said the lawyer; "but lie had his glasses hanging round his neck, and it is remarkable that not once during the trial did lie put them I to his eyes. I have here," said the lawyer tapping his pocketbook, "a list of the j names, social standing, and businesses i and professions of the jurymen engaged on l this Lay ton mystery. As regards only one of them is my information incomplete. I know their ages, whether they are married or single, whether they have families, etc. I know something more?I know the name of the one man who would not subscribe to the verdict of guilty which the other eleven, almost without leaving the box, were ready to pronounce. Curiously enough, this dissentient is the person respecting whom I hnvo not yet complete particulars. I am acquainted with his name, lmt have not hcen supplied with his address. I shall, however, obtain it easily, if I require it." "What is his name?" asked Dr. Duincourt. 1 "James Rutland," replied the lawyer. I \ t i lii? moment there was a knock at i the door; and a man servant made his apj pearance. "A telegraph lad, sir," said the serj vant, '"lias brought this message and is I waiting to know whether it is correct and i whether there is any answer. He says lie I has been in your rooms in the temple I and was directed on here to your private j address, tlie instructions being that the : message was to he delivered immediately, j either at your professional or private resij deuce." Mr. Uainbridge opened the telegram i and read it. It was unusually lengthy, and from the expression of his face appeared to cause him great surprise. "Let the lad wait in the hall," he said to his servant, "and you come up the mo-' ment I ring." "Very well, sir," said the servant, and he left the room, closing the door softly behind him. "I have been taking a leaf out of your book,*" said I)r. Daincourt. "You seem to learn so much from observing the faces of people that I have been rude enough to watch your face while you were perusing the telegram." "What have you learned?" asked the lawyer. "Nothing," replied Dr. Daincourt, smiling, "except that it appears almost as long as a letter, and that it has caused you surprise." "It liiis caused me something more than that?it has absolutely startled me." "You must forgive my rudeness. I spoke lightly, not seriously. If you have anything particular to attend to, don't mind mc; I will go." "No," said the lawyer, "I want you, and I think you will be as startled as I am myself. This is a cable messago from Pittsburg, America, and, as you judged, it is moro like a letter than a telegram. See, it covers three sides of t puper; I will read it to you: " 'From Archibald Laing, Box 123C, P. O., Pittsburg, U. S., to Mr. Bainbridge, 0.v<G.. London. * " 'Reports of the result of Edward J Layton's trial for the murder of his wife have been cabled here and published in the papers. There will, of course, be a new triul. If at or before that new trial yoit establish Layton's innocence, I hold myself accountable to you for a fee of $25,000. If you will employ yourself to that end, I have cabled to Messrs. Morgan & Co., bankers, Threadncedle street, to pay upon your demand the sum of $10,000, $5,000 of which are your retaining fee, the other $5,000 being an installment toward any preliminary expenses you may incur. This sum of $10,000 is independdent of the 25,000 mentioned above, and of course your own professional bill of costs will be paid in addition. Messrs. Morgan & Co. are empowered to advance you any further sums that may bo necessary for your investigations. Set every engine afoot to obtain the acquittal of Edward Lay ton; spare no expense. If $1,000,000 is necessary, it is at your command. Send to me by every mail full and detailed accounts of your movements and proceedings; omit nothing, and make your own charge for this and for everything else you perform in the task I ask you as a favor to undertake. Your reply immediately by cablo will oblige, and, up to 100 words, is prepaid. I do not wish Edward Layton to j know that I have requested your meditation on his behalf. It Is a matter entirely j and confidentially between you and me. I write to you by the out going mail. Per[ haps you may obtain some useful information from a Mr. James Rutland; I cannot furnish you with the gentleman's address, but Edward Layton and he were one* friends.' " Dr. Daincourt drew a deep breath. "Startling indeed," he said. "This Archibald LaiDg must be the man o! whom wo have heard as making an immense fortune by speculating at the right moment in the silver mines. If so, ho is good for millions. Do you know anything of him?" "Not personally," replied the lawyer; "only from report and hearsay. He is an Englishman, and must bo an amazingly shrewd fellow; and that ho is in earnest is partly proved by this cable, in which no words are spared to make his meaning clear." "While he was speaking to his friend, the lawyer was busily engaged writing upon a blank telegraph form, which was inclosed in the envelope delivered by the messenger. "What will you do in the matter?" asked Dr. Daincourt. "Hero is my reply," said the lawyer, and he read it aloud: "'From Mr. Bainbridge, Q. C., Harley street, London, to Archibald Laing, Box 1230, P. O., Pittsburg, U. S. " 'Your cable received. I undertake tho commission, and will use every effort to j establish Layton's innocence, in which I ! firmly believe. Tvere i a mystery in ! the matter, and I will do my best to get i at the heart of it. I will write to you as you desire.'" He touched the bell and the servant appeared. "Give this to the telegraph boy," ho said, "and pay his cab faro to the telegraph office, in order that there shall bo no delay." "When tho servant had departed, tho lawyer rose from his chair and paced the room slowly in deep thought, and it was during the intervals in his reflections that the conversation between him and f)r. Daincourt was carried on. "Is it not very strange," said the lawyer, "that I am advised in this cable message to seek information from the ono juryman who pronounced Layton innocent, and whose address I have not obtained?" "Yes, it is indeed," replied Dr. Daincourt, "very strange." "Of course I shall find him; there will I not be the least difficulty in that respect. ! Tell me, doctor. It was proved at tho trial that Mrs. Layton's death was caused by an overdose of morphia, taken in tho form of effervescing lozenges. It was established that she was occasionally in tho I VinViif r\f fnl'itifr nnA rtf +T. n p r. Iri7flnfrna fit | uauiv yjL uiivin^ vuw ut vuvov ut | night to produce sleep, and her maid | swore that her mistress never took moro ; than one, being aware of the danger of an ! overdose. The usual mode of administer* ! ing these noxious opiates is by placing one j in the mouth and allowing it to dissolve, but they will dissolve in water, and the i medical evidence proved that at least eight | or ten of the poisonous lozenges must ' have been administered in this way, in I one dose, to the unfortunate lady. The | glass from which the liquid was drunk j was found, not by her bedside, but on the j mantel shelf, which is at some distanco I from the bed. It is a natural inference, j if the unfortunate woman had adminI istered the dose to herself, that the gloss would have been found on the table by j her bedside. It was not so found, and the maid declares that her mistress was too weak to get out of bed and return to it unaided. These facts, if they be facts, I circumstantially prove that the cause of ! death lay outsider the actions of the inva| lid herself. The maid states that when ! she left her mistress the bottle containing ! about a dozen lozenges was on the table | by her mistress' bedside, and also a glass | and a decanter of water; and that when j she visited her mistress between 6 and 7 I o'clock in the morning there were no lozI enges left in the bottle, and the glass from j which they were supposed to be taken, j dissolved in water, was on the mantel j shelf. Now, in my view, this circum] stance is in favor of the prisoner." "I cannot see that," observed Dr. Daini court. i "Yet it is very simple," said the lawyer. I "Let us suppose, in illustration, that I am I this lady's husband. For reasons into which it is not necessary here to enter I resolve to make away with my wife by | administering to her an overdose of these | poisonous narcotics, and naturally I re| solve that her death shall be accomplished j in such a manner as to avert to some reu| sonable extent suspicion from myself. I go into her bedroom at midnight. Our ! relations, as has been proved, arc not of ! the most amiable kind. We are not in 1 love with each other?quite the reverse? | and have been living from the first day of our marriage an unhappy life. ; Indeed, my unhappy life in relation ! to the lady commenced when I was engaged to her. Well, I go into her room ! at midnight, resolved to bring about her | death. She complains that she cannot I cluon ulm niA-u tyio t? rrlvn li?r n. innr- I ' phia lozenge from the bottle. I suggest | that it may more readily produce sleep if, instead of allowing it to dissolve slowly in her mouth, she will drink it off at once dissolved in water. She consents. I tako from the table the bottle, the decanter of water and the glass; I empty secretly into the glass the eight or ten or dozen lozenges which the bottle contains; I pour the water from the decanter into the glass, and I tell my wife to drink it oil immediately. Sho I does so and sinks into slumber, overpow! ered by a sleep from which she will j never awake. Perhaps she struggles against the effects of the terrible dose I have administered her, but her struggles are vain. She lies before me in sure approaching death, and both she and I havo > escaped Ironi the life which has been a continual source of misery to us. The deed being accomplished, what do I, the the murderer, do? There are no evidences of a struggle; there have been no cries to alarm the house; what has been accomplished has been well and skillfully accomplished, and I am the only actual living witness against myself. What then, I repeat, is my course of action? Before I killed her I removed the bottle, the glass and tho decanter from the table by the bedside. I wish it to be understood that she herself, in a fit of delirium, caused her own death. This theory would be be utterly destroyed if I allowed the glass from which tho poison was taken to be found at some distance from the unfortunate lady's bedside. Very carefully, therefore, I placo not only that, but the decanter which contained the water, and tho bottlo which contained the lozenges, within reach of her living hand. To omit that precaution would be suicidal, and, to my raind, absolutely untenable in rational action under such circumstances. Do you see, now, why the circumstance of the , glass being found on the mantel shelf is a prool pf my innocence?" A Tgfh" replied Dr. Dainconrt, "I rec^mePthe strength of your theory?unless, indeed, you had in your mind th? idea that it would be better to throw' suspicion upon a third person; say, for the sake of argument, upon the maid." "That view," said the lawyer, "demolishes itself, for what I would naturally do to divert suspicion from myself, a third person would naturally do to avert suspicion from him or herself." "True," said Dr. Daincourt; "you seize vital points more readily than I. Have you any theory about the strange lady who accompanied Layton home from Prevost's restaurant?" "I have a theory upon the point," replied the lawyer, "which, however, at present is so vague and unsatisfactory that it would be folly to disclose it." "And the nine of hearts," said Dr. Daincourt, "you have not mentioned that lately?have you forgotten it?" "No," said the lawyer; "it is my firm opinion that round that nine of hearts the whole of the mystery revolves." [to he continued.] pisfcltancnus ^hading. TIIE AVERTED DUEL. i Charlie Knickerbocker and Gus Snobberly nre two New York dudes. They live on Fifth avenue, and belong to sov- , eral fashionable clubs. They are just as dudey as it is possible for a dude to be. It was difficult to determine which of the two was the most complete dude by looking at them. Cornelia Highkicker was an actress. She occupied an elegant flat. She dressed very elegantly and elaborately when she was off the stage. An elderly lady, a sort, of duenna, lived with Cornelia. This female companion was a highly respectable personage to look at. When several gentlemen called she was always present in the parlor to pro tect Cornelia and her reputation. When there was only one gentleman in the parlor Cornelia did not require any protection. She herself was equal to the emergency, so the duenna kept herself out of sight. What had Cornelia to fear from one man and he a dude like Snobberly or Charlie Knickerbocker? Both Charlie Knickerbocker and Snobberly loved Cornelia, and each believed that he alone was loved by the fair Cornelia. Ono day Charlie Knickerbocker sauntered unexpectedly in the boudoir of Cornelia. Then he did something recoiling with horror. She was sitting on a chair. So was Snobberly. It was the same chair. They did not invite the intruder to take n scat. "Ila, faithless cweatuc," said Snobberly, fiercely. "You get out of heah or I'll twelephono for a policeman," replied Knickerbocker, glaring at Snobberly as if he was a tiger. Cornelia fainted. "This demands blood, beelud, sir," said Snobberly, excitedly. Cornelia revived, giggled and then went off into a fresh swoon. "Pistols at 5 o'clock at the Bear's den in Central park, said Snobberly, remembering there was always a policeman in that vicinity. "I'll be there," replied Knickcibocker. They rushed out into the fresh air. Cornelia came to and giggled profusely. That evening Snobberly and Charlio were in the same box at the theatre and gazed at Miss Highkicker on the stage. They did not betray any emotion. Good society in New York has its rules and regulations which no true gentleman violates. They did not make a scene. The performance was over. An hour later Snobberly was strolling up Broadway. 1 le overtook a gentleman. It was Charlie Knickerbocker. The former Damon and Pythias of New York dude society walked side by side for some moments without saying anything. No doubt they were thinking about pistols next morning in Central park at the benr's den. Finally Knickerbocker remarked: "Ill S tlf u?ux ctcuiut^* "Yes," replied Snobberly; "the western cyclone moved yesterday, ns The Herald forecasts intimated it would do, to the lakes, with high southeasterly winds oil the Atlantic coast. The storm is now central north of Lake Ontario, whence it will move to-day northeastwardly. Temperature rose yesterday in the United Suites with a minimum of six degrees below zero at Lacrosse, Wis., and a maximum of 79 at Key West. In this city and suburban districts to-day warmer, cloudy to partly cloudy weather will probably prevail, preceded by light rain near the coast, and followed in the afternoon by clearing conditions and a slight fall of temperature. In the middle states and New England, warmer, cloudy to partly cloudy weather will prevail, preceded by light rain and followed by clearing, cooler conditions in the former, except light snows near the lakes. On Tuesday in this city and section and in New England slightly colder, partly cloudy to fair weather will probably prevail, followed by fair to clear conditions, and on Wednesday fair weather, with stationary followed by rising temperature. Dangerous southerly to southeasterly gales will probably prevail on the New England coast till noon to-day. The "cold wave" in the northwest will probably not be severe on reaching this section." "Mr. Snobberly, the near presence of death should make us conciliatory, ye know. Let's go into tins first class establishment. and take a parting drink." "Ell do it. To-morrow both of us may be in the cold embrace of death. Let us take a parting drink." "And some fried oysters?" "And some fried oysters." A few minutes later they sat in one of the little boxes, which arc arranged somewhat on the cell system. The inmates are safe from intrusion and not liable to be disturbed by outsiders. Charlie Knickerbocker was just about (o insert a fried oyster into his open mouth. He paused, and held the oyster poised in midair. There was somebody in I the next box. They heard a giggle. Both dudes put down their oysters and listenedThere was no mistaking that giggle. They had heard it a thousand times before. It , was the Cornelia Higlikicker giggle. ( There was also a deep, manly voice mixed up with the giggle. "That's the voice of Jake Oppenhcimer," whispered Snobberly. "That rich Sheeny I've seen you with so frequently?" "The same." "Curse him!" 1 Money is powerful. The eagle bird on the dollars is a favorite fowl with most people. Oppenheitner had lots of eagle dollars. ] Snobbery and Charlie Knickerbocker, ( the two deadly enemies, who in a few ( hours were to flop around in real gore, placed a table against the partition, anil standing on it peeped over into the next box. Then they looked at each other, and the fierce glare of deadly hate faded ' away as softly and gently as the. New ' ?? - - - " ~ York city fund invested in the Marine bank faded out of sight. Oppenhcimer was almost speechless with laughter. Cornelia was telling him about the prospective duel between the listeners. They were amazed. They could hardly believe their eyes. They descended from the table, paid their bill and went out into the fresh air. "Knickerbocker." "Snobbcrlv." "We will not shoot each other." "Never; forgive me, Charlie." "Forgive me, Gus." They were clasped in each other's arms. "Let us reform. Let us join the Advent mission services." "All right. And let us make an effort to elevate the moral status of theatrical people."?Alexander E. Sweet in Texas Sittings. HIS BEST GUIL. He hurried up to the oraee as soon as he entered the hotel, and without waiting to register, inquired eagerly: "Any letter for me V" The clerk sorted over a package with the negligent attention that comes of practice, then flipped one? a.very small one?on the counter. The traveling man took it with a curious smile that twisted his pleasant looking face into a mask of expectancy. lie smiled more as he read it. Then oblivious of other travelers who jostled him, he laid it tenderly against his lips and actually kissed it. A loud guffaw startled him. "Now look here, old fellow," said a loud voice, "that won't do, you know. Too spooney for anything. Confess now ; your wifedidn't write that letter?" "No, she didn't," said the traveling man with an amazed look, as if he would like to change the subject. "That letter is from my best girl." ThS admission was so unexpected that the trio of friends who had caught him, said no more until after they had eaten a good dinner and were seated together in a chum's room. Then they began to badger him. "It's no use; you've got to read it to us, Dick," said one of them, "we want to know all about yonr best girl." "So you shall," said Dick, with nAAlwnoa 44T will nriro vnil thft ^icai cuuiucoo* x ?TIU g* ?v j vu tuv letter and you can read it yourselves. There it is," and he laid it open on the table. "I guess not," said the one who had been loudest in demanding it. "We like to chaff a little, but I hope we are gentlemen. The young lady would hardly care to have her letter read by this crowd," and he looked reproachfully at his friend. "But I insist upon it," was the answer. "There is nothing in it to be ashamed of except the spelling; that is a little shaky, I'll admit,.but she won't care in the least. Itead it Hardy, and judge for yourself." Thus urged Hardy took up the letter, shame-facedly enough, and read it. There were only a few words. First he laughed?then swallowed suspiciously, and as he finished it, threw it on the table again and rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes, as if troubled with dimness of vision. "Pshaw!" he said, "if I had a love letter like that?" and then was silent. "Fair play !" cried one of the others, with an uneasy laugh. "I'll read it to you boys," said their friend, seeing they made no move to take it, "and I think you'll agree with me, that its a model love letter." And this was what he read : Mi owen deer PaPa, I sa mi PRairs every nite and Won i kiss youro Pictshure i ASK god to bless, vou gOOd by PaPayure Bestgurl DOLLY. For a moment ortwo the company remained silent, while the little letter was passed from hand to hand, and you would have said that each and every one had hay fever by the snuffling that was heard. Then Hardy jumped to his feet: "Three cheers for Dolly and three cheers more for Dick's best girl!" They were given with a will.? Detroit Free Press. A GREAT MAN'S GREATEST THOUGHT. At a dinner at the Astor House, when Daniel Webster was Secretary of State under President Fillmore, after a period of silence which fell upon the company of some twenty gentlemen who were present, one of the guests said : "Mr. Webster, will you tell me whatwasthe mostimportant thought that ever occupied your mind?" Mr. Webster slowly passed his hand over his forehead, and in a low tone inquired of one near him, "Is there any one here who does not know me?" "The most important thought that ever occupied my mind," said Mr. Webster, "was that of my individual responsibility to God." And after speaking on this subject in the most solemn strain for some twenty minutes, he solemnly rose from the table and retired to his room. This incident, related by ITarvey in his Reminiscences, serves to illustrate the attitude of great minds towards eternal things. Great men are not scoffers. The men of flippant sneers and godless jests are men of small calibre and shallow intellect. It is not the wise man who has "said in his heart there is no God." It is not the great man who casts off fear and restrains prayer before Him. A great man comprehends something greater than himself, for he is but the image of a divine Creator, marred, defaced and distorted by sin, yet bearing testimony to the dignity and grandeur of the divine original, whose glory is so faintly shadowed in the man whom he has made, and endowed with intellect, and will and conscience, and whom he has made to feel, in the depths of his soul, the importance of "Individual responsibility to God.''?Hastings. THE CHIME OF ARSON*. A number of interesting facts are discovered in a leaflet circulated among insurance men, on "Criminal n i r\ TTrvtfArl " Tf ia Q 111CO I LI tlJC V. JillCU IJUUV,!"'. Aw i'J V*. | paper read by Franklin Webster before the eighteenth annual meeting of the Fire Underwriter's Association of the Northwest, at Chicago, September, 1887. The estimated annual loss by fire, : this country is one hundred millions of dollars. Mr. Webster, by careful comparison of statistics, concludes that about 26 per cent, of these fires are incendiary. In other words, in the last three years,eighty millions of dollars worth of property have been destroyed by criminal fires. Those are figures that are certainly calculated to set moralists and reformers thinking. i The author holds that insurance is i to be held accountable for com- i paratively little of these losses, and he summarizes the causes as "private enmities, business rivalries, mis- ; chief, malice, race prejudices and ! hatreds, factional quarrels, jealousy, i religious intoleration, fire raising for < purpose of theft or to hide theft, for 1 the purpose of murder or to hide mur- < :ler, labor troubles and so on. Strange ' to say, the crime of incendiarism va- j ries with some regularity with the 1 months, being most frequent in No- 1 vember. For the last four years, 1 there have been more criminal fires i in August, September, October, No- ] vember, and December, than in all < the other seven months. 1 The unpleasant fact is noted that i the ratio of incendiarism ranges ' steadily higher in the southern ' States than elsewhere. South C'aro- < Una is among the States whose per- . centage of incendiary fires is over half, her percentage being 51. North Carolina and West Virginia average 51 ; Arkansas and Tennessee, 52; i Kentucky and Mississippi, 54. These 1 two States have the highest average, i the lowest being in California, 15 i per cent. Out of 31,170 prisoners reported ] from thirty States and Territories, < only 480 were for arson. In the '< South Carolina penitentiary, out of ' 547 convicts, 11, or 2.01 per cent, were i serving terms for incendiarism. I These are instructive and interest- < ing figures, and they will bear care- < ful^tnought and study.?Greenville i News. i ? i Where the Day Begins.?Ac- i cording to the way in which this ar- I rangement is now carried out, the first land that the new day dawns < iinnn ia "Tractor Tclam! nhnnt. 93(1 1 miles-west of the coast of Chili, South i America. That is to say, the 2d of ' July breaks here within a few hours i of the 1st, having broken on the '< American coast to the east, and the i two days run on alongside?the 2nd i in Easter Island and places west, the 1st in all places on the American | continent. We may, therefore, real- 1 ize this idea?that at 7.20 o'clock any ^ morning of our lives in Great Britain, I the next day is commencing on the | world, and is to be found at this i little island in the Pacific ocean, 1 whence in due course it will travel s round to us. But to have thus the < start of the world is not an unmiti- i gated advantage to these islanders. < Suppose one of them sails east to i Amercia, what is the result? He will 1 find they keep the day there under a ] different date, and he will have to i reckon one day in his calendar twice . over to put himself right with their notions. On the other hand, if an American crosses from east to west ; this wonderful magic line where the j day begins, he will find the dates in this fresh part of the world are one ? in advance of him, and he must needs stri ke a day out of his calendar to keep up with the times. This fact ? was curiously illustrated in the case of Magellan, the Portuguese captain, | who sailed round the world from < east to west in 1522, and having < crossed the magic line of "day's birth" in his wanderings, his calen- ; dar became of course a day in arrear. The sailors were completely igno- | rant of this, and finding, on landing ' at home, that their Sabbath was falling on Monday, they accused one another of tampering with the reckoning. It was not for some time that the true explanation was dis- : covered.?Chambers' Journal. Gaining or Losing a Day.?In sailing round the world eastward the days are each a little less than twenty-four hours, according to the speed of the ship, as the sun is met every morning a little earlier. These little differences added together will amount in the course of the circumnavigation to twenty-four hours, giving the sailors an extra day, not In imagination, but in sober truth, as they will have actually eaten an extra day's food and consumed an extra day's grog. On the other hand, in sailing westward, the sun is overtaken a little each day, and so each day is rather longer than tw_enty-four hours, and clocks and watches are found to be too fast. This also will amount in sailing round to the starting point again, to one whole day, by which the reckoning has fallen in arrear. The eastern ship, then, has gained a day and the western ship has lost one, leading to this apparent paradox, that the former ship has a clear gain of two whole days over the latter, supposing them to have started and returned together.?Chambers' Journal. Creatures of Yesterday.? With all his pride at our progress, the thoughtful student beholds with dismay the rapid sweeping away of many animal and vegetable species, which to future science would be most precious. In his biographical address to the British Association, Prof. A. Newton lamented, as an example of what is being done, the , disappearance of the birds of New Zealand. In the more thickly set- ( tied districts imported species alone are now to be seen, while the natives , are fast being pushed inland, and must soon vanish. These native species are almost exclusively peculiar to that country, and supply a link to the past, that once lost can never be recovered. The forms of life that are being killed off are mostly the ancient ones, that must teach us more than the recent ones of the ; way life has been spread over the globe, and Prof. Newton therefore : urges haste in gaining all possible knowledge of these creatures before they have passed away. More Mind, More Madness.? It is in no way surprising that insanity should seem to increase in races or classes which are being intellectually stimulated by education. There alu'.uru in pvprv nnmmnnitv a nro portion of brains which, being brought into action, will break down. This proportion doubtless ; dimisltes as the community isele- ; vated, and in a very few generations the result of culture may?probably 1 will?be to develop a better stock, looking upon the people as a whole ; but at the outset of the educationary process, and in the generation first taught, the immediate result must be a considerable number of wreck- 1 ings. This general principle is ap- 1 plicable to all races, peoples and classes, and it explains why the first ef- < feet of trying to elevate the negroes has been to produce an apparent in- ' crease of insanity among them. < Unnecessary Pain.?Not only ' are we bound by the law of love and < humanity to refrain from giving I knowingly a single pang to any one < without a formed intention of doing 1 agreatergood, but we are equally 1 bound to watch over our unthinking I acts and words to the same end. As f we rightly rejoice that increasing in- I telligence has put her ban on bodily < persecution, so we may hopefully look forward to a time when she will so enlighten the minds and en- * largo the sympathies of men and i women that they will shrink with as ] much repugnance from giving un- i necessary pain to sensitive feelings \ or a tender heart, as they now do i from the cruelties of barbarism or ( the horrors of the Inquisition. 1 c Quality Not Quantity.?"Do t you know," said the chemist, "that c some people believe that this ther- t mometer gives us a measure of the t quantity of heat? The name itself t would indicate that the originators c 3f it believed it did some such thing, r Hie fact is, the thermometer doesn't i ?ivethe slightest information about the amount of heat. Say you have two one-gallon kettles filled with boiling water. The thermometer marks 212 degrees in each. Now, put them together. The mixture contains twice the quantity of heat that either gallon alone contained, ind yet the thermometer does not vary, but still marks 212 degrees, fhe thermometer only gives the quality of the heat."?Indianapolis Journal. Attractive and Telling Advertisements.?The old style of merely puffing one's merchandise tias passed out of date. The reading md purchasing public of to-day demand something stronger and better. Ihat this want is recognized and appreciated by the keen advertiser and squally alert public is apparent to ilmost every one. The fact is, advertising has become such an interral nart.nf mnrlnrn hnsinoss mpthods that it is almost impossible to carry Dn any kind of trade or traffic withDut its aid. It is well known that many concerns pay large salaries to skilled writers, whose only employment is the invention and the framing of attractive and telling advertisements. Thousands of dollars are annually expended simply in putting the matter in shape, and many millions more for its publication in the press. The firm who can express in clear, jtrong and concise language, set in ittractive form of display, just what it has to offer, at once attracts the merchant as well as the consumer. Xo merchant can now wholly depend for business upon the fact of nis being well known to the trade. So matter how many years he may iave been established, or how familiar his name is to the purchasng public, or how celebrated his wares are, if he does not advertise md keep doing so in some way, buy3rs and consumers will in time ignore him and visit and trade with his jompetitor who sounds his trumpet upon all occasions to the extent of thousands of dollars a year, and pays the same without a murmur because it pays him to do so .?Dry Goods Review. The Wife's Pig and Her Money.?The other day we remarked to a friend that had just purchased a pair of pure Berkshires to consume the skim milk and kitchen wastes, that he should make their wii.termeat of them. He replied: "No, sir; my wife feeds them, and It has to be a good feeder that can beat her; and when fatted, they are sold and she gets the money. We sell about $50 worth each year. I buy the pigs and furnish the feed, and she does the feeding, and the money they bring is hers." This gentleman lives in town, but he sets an example it would be well for many farmers to follow. There wrmlrl ho mnrp hannv farmers' wives if they received a liberal share of the money they bring in by carrying slops to the pigs. If they knew that they would get a share of the money, many of them would succeed far better with the pigs than their liege lord.?National Stockman. A Garden Barometer.?One of the simplest of barometers is the spider's web. When there is a prospect of rain or wind, the spider shortens the filaments from which its web is suspended, and leaves things in this state as long as the weather is variable. If the insect elongates its threads it is a sign of fine, calm weather, the length of which may be judged of by the length to which the threads are let out. If the spider remains inactive, it is a sign of rain; but if, on the contrary, it keeps at work during a rain, the latter will not last long, and will be followed by fine weather. Other observations have taught that the spider makes changes in its web every twenty-four hours, and that if such changes are made in the evening, just before sunset, the night will be clear and beautiful. JOST Among exclamations in common use "Ilallo!" and "Hurrah!" have curious origins attributed to them. It is said by the author of the "Queen's English," that the people of Charnwood Forest, Leicestershire, when they desire to hail a person at a distance, call out, not "halloo!" but "halloup!" This he imagines is a survival of the times when one cried to another, "a loup! aloup!" or as we would now say, "wolf! wolf!" "Hurrah," again, according to M. Littre, is derived from the Slavonic huraj, "to Paradise," which signified that all soldiers who fell fighting valiantly went straight to heaven. "Prithee" is obtrinnolir o nrvrrn rvt inn nf 4,T nrflV ? IVU^IJ (4 WltUJ/UiUU V4 Jk ^ thee;" while "marry" was originally in Polish times a method of swearing by the Virgin Mary. ? ? ? Watch the Smoke?How often we hear the remark, "We shall have rain, the atmosphere is so heavy." The reverse is true. When one sees smoke hanging from a chimney, with a tendency to sink to theground, it indicates that the atmosphere is light?in fact, too light to float the smoke. When the smoke rises from the chimney, it indicates a heavy atmosphere. A column of smoke is nota bad barometer, for a barometer is nothing more than a recorder of the pressure of the atmosphere. When theatmosphere is light and the smoke settles, the pressure on the mercury is light, and the column falls, indicating storm. When the atmosphere is heavy and the smoke rises, the pressure is greater and the column rises, indicating fair weather. ? Perseverance.?On looking over the world, the cause of nine parts in ten of the lamenable failures which occur in men's undertakings, and Jarken and degrade so much of their history, lies not in want of talents, or the will to use them, as in the vacillating and desultory mode of using them, in flying from object to object; in starting away at each little iisgust, and thus applying the force which might conquer any one difficulty to a series of difficulties so large that no human force can conquer them. Commend me, therefore, to the Dutch virtue of perseverance. Without it all the rest are ittle better than fairy gold, which flitters in your purse, but when aken to market proves to be slate or linders ?Carlyle. A Sealed Letter is Sacred.? miL. ill... lllU stliiI;Mty in ? acraicu iciici is su veil secured iu this country," said Mr. Nash, the superintendent of the ailroad mail service, "that if a letter ,vere received at the city postofflce n Washington, or at any other post)ffice in the country, that was absoutely known to contain the evidence >f fraud, the proof of the improper lse of the mails, the Postmaster General himself would not dare to break he seal. A letter passing through he mails cannot be opened by any)ody until it reaches the deaa letter >ftice, after every effort has been nadetodeliver it in vain."? Washngton Post.