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lewis m. grist, proprietor, j ^nbeptittof Jfantilj ^fbspjtr: Jfor \\t Ijromofion of t(w |$)litkal, Social, ^gricallural anb (tommmial Jnitnsts of f|e Soutlj. |terms--$2.50 a year, in advance. VOLIM. YOBKYILLE, S. C., WEDN^DAY, JANUARY 113 1888. NO. 2. ? ferial ftotji. ROCER LAROQUE. ADAPTED AND TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF JULES MART. BY OLIVER HARPER. Copyrighted by the American Press Association. CHAPTER IV. We must go backward a few hours in our recital and follow Roger Laroque from the moment be left the provisional police bureau and took the train for Paris. Half an hour later he was in his office, which was situated in one part of the immense building which contained his workshops. After having glanced over his correspondence Roger rang and ordered the boy who answered his call to aay to H. Onerrier, the cashier, that he wished to see him. In a few minutes JL Gnenfler entered tbw private office. "Sit down, Jean," said Roger, pointing to a chair. "What is there newF "Nofchine. nothine whatever. Thines could not change much from one day to another, unfortunately. If we could only manage to pay our bills and workmen the rest would be easy in spite of the difficulty which that unexpected payment causes us." "Yes," said Roger; "it would give us time." "Hare you tried everywhere?" "Everywhere, and with the same result. Bad news travels quick." "So there is no hope?" said Jean, with a heavy sigh; for he really loved and honored his employer, and would willingly have given treble the necessary sum had it been in his power. "Well, Jean, it does me good to see that you take this so much to heart, but I think we are saved. 1 have thfe money." "The 50,000 francs?" "I have. Here they are," and from his pocketbook Roger proceeded to count out the sum named. Jean took the notes and counted them with a beaming face. Roger continued: "Yesterday morning a fortunate and unhoped for event enabled me to give you 100,000 irancs. juasc mgnu, m aespair, x went to a gaming house and tried my fortune, and God knows how it happened, for I know nothing of cards. I won 50,000 francs, which you have here. This, with what you have, will meet all our obligations to the last sou." "I am glad indeed," said Jean Guerrier as he gathered up the money and went back to his books, where he entered it, and then busied himself making up the pay roll for the workmen, while Roger lit a cigar and smoked with an air of content, his eyes roving slowly around him on the different parts of the building, which was nearly all visible to him, as his office was in an L The noise of the hammers and files was music in his" ears, and the designs that were tacked up against his walls were dearer to him than priceless paintings. "And to think that I was on the point of leaving all this; that I was going to say goodby to the labor and dream of my life! Well, it is over now, and I will think no moro of it." When Jean had finished the pay roll ho called the three foremen of the workshops and handed them the money for paying the workmen and then made up the pajments for the employes of the office, but was interrupted in this by the entrance of the office boy, who came up to him with a frightened air. "M. Guerrier, there are four men who have just entered the waiting room and want to see M. Laroque instantly." mi'~ii ?u_? ?# i*m i.? u;? ncll, wiuib ui AW* ouoncicu V) nibu uio eyes still bent upon his work. "Why, one of them is Mr. Lienard, the commissionaire of police of the judiciary court, and two detectives, who are in disguise. I know them both, the spies!" The cashier raised his head this time and shivered lightly. "What does that mean? Well, go and tell M. Laroquo and bring them in." At the announcement of this visit Laroque was somewhat astonished. He had forgotten completely all about the murder of Larouette and his visit to M. Lacroix this morning. He remembered suddenly, and made a sign that the boy should bring M. Lienard. He rose and went forward to meet the officer and ; saluted him: "I know the object of your visit, sir, and j thank you for the trouble you have taken. j But I should have gone willingly to your office if you had sent me word.""Monsieur," said the commissioner, who would not sit down in spite of the invitation of Laroque, "I have brought with me au expert in bookkeeping, and I oeg you wiL give him your books." , Laroque drew himself up, and said, angrily: "My books? And by what right, if you : please?" "The right which the law imposes upon mo. j I also desire that you give your cashier orders to facilitate the labors of the expert in every | manner." "And if I refuse?" "I shall do so without your consent." Laroque made a heroic effort to contain his j anger. His face, usually so fresh and ruddy, took an ashy pallor, and his eyes glittered j with suppressed anger. Finally he controlled himself enough to speak. "What do you want, sir, and why tbil abuse of power?" "What I want is, first, the list of all ths notes, bills or securities which you used to pay Larouette. You know that he was robbed and murdered the day you made him this payment" "It is my duty to enlighten you on tbia point and you can tell your expert to go to my cashier, M. Guerrier, who will givo him all the details. But allow me to say that il you had shown a little more courtesy you would have received more in return." AL JUenard remained silent and cold. j Roger stepped to the cashier's desk and said a few word3 to Jean, and then returned, ' leaving M. Ricordot, the expert, to ex- ; amine the books, which he proceeded to do, saying: "The law wishes to know in what consisted the payment made to M. Larouette?gold, securities or bank notek" "Nothing is easier. You see, three days j ago there was nothing but gold and notes; no j check or securities. As this payment was | made in gold and notes, it wi>! not be easy to trace-them, but I have an iruication which may be of value. Among the 1,000 franc notes there were twenty or thirty which wo received from the country by registered letter. Here are the letters, and they contain the numbers and letters on the notes which were inclosed. Perhaps that will be of service." M. Lienard stood near the door listening to this conversation. "And, besides, accident also caused a particular mark on some of the notes. As I was counting a bundle of potes, an employe accidentally upset my ink and it stained ten or a ? dozen of them, all in nearly the same place, on the right" "That is precious," murmured Lienard. "Thn KATIITO nrnirfk *?11 " au buis juuiig mail oajoj said Ricordot, discontentedly. "Now show us those of to-dav." Finally, after Ricordot had examined the entries of the preceding day and that of the last hour, and had held a whiskered con- \ versation with M. Lienard, the latter said to | Laroque: "Ricordot has examined your books, lie sees, what we knew, that your affairs are in j a very bad condition, and that day before yesterday, yesterday even, you could count : upon nothing but hazard to save you from your embarrassment." "That is true, sir," said Laroque, sadly. "1 just missed bankruptcy,but to-day I am safe.* "Ricordot noticed on your books thai yesterday you received an important sum-- . one hundred thousand francs?and to-day another entry of 50,000 francs, both paid in by you, without any indication from whence they came." "That also is quite true. But what is your ! object in this inquiry f "M. Laroque, will you answer frankly and without hesitation some questions I am about j to ask you?" "You can count upon my frankness," said Roger with noble simplicity. "I never lied i in my life." "From whence came the 50,000 francs ycu paid in today. "I won them last night at baccrtrat at the Commerce club." "Very well; we will verify that. And the j 100,000 francs of yesterday, the 29th?" ' "They were paid me yesterday by" . Hi stopped brusquely, as if a hand of steel liar; grasped his throat, checking his words. H? bad been standing, and the effect of his agi tation was so great that he sank .into a chair, and great drops of perspiration stood out on his forehead. "My God!" he thought, "what was I about to say!" "I repeat my question, which you seem nol to have heard. From whence came the 100,000 francs?" Roger answered hoarsely: "I told you: from the payment of a debt" "The name of that person?" "That does not concern you. I find your question a little indiscreet" "I advise you to answer without subter< fuge." "I do not recognize your right to question me, and I refuse. As my cashier has fur nished you with all the indications in his power I beg you to notice that it is 11 o'clock, and that my time is valuable." "You do not seem to understand the gravity of your situation." Laroquo seemed at first surprised, and then with his ordinary brusqueness exclaimod: "Where the devil do you find my situation grave? What business of yours is it anyhow, M. Police Commissioner Lienardr.'. Ail luub meru va.i>ls swung presumpuvu reasons that you are tho murderer of Larouette." "What? hey? how?" "You heard me." Laroque kept silent and seemed to pass in mental review the words just addressed to him, and looked from Ricordot to Lienard and back. Then all at once the comic side ot such an occasion struck him and he burst into a laugh, so hearty, loud and prolonged that the tears stood in his eyes and his sides ached. "I should never have thought of that," he said as soon as he could control his mirth. "I am rot here to inquire your opinion," said Lienard with great dignity, "but to ask you certain questions, and to place you at the disposal of the court of Versailles in case they are not satisfactorily answered." At this moment Ricordot went out, and iu a few seconds returned with his hands full of bank notes, which he began to examine attentively while the conversation continued. "Very well, though it humiliates me to have to defend myself from so ridiculous an accusation. But first I wish to know what are your proofs against me." "They are of various nature, but I am here only to see if there is any suspicious account of money in your poseession. Do you maintain your affirmation that though your safe wws empty on the 28th, the important sum found in your possession to-day comes partly from your winning at baccarat and the rest from a payment? You must prove what you say." "I played last night from 10 to midnight with Baron de Cey, Leonce Dubois, and Gaston and Adolph Levallois." "That is all right so far. But the 100,000 francs brought in by you on the 29th of July." Again Roger turned pale. "I have nothing to add to my former answer. It was an unexpected payment of a loan." "The name of the debtor?" Roger kept silent "Reflect, this name is the proof that you have told the truth, for it will be easy for us to verify your statement." Still no answer. "In the name of your honorable house, your own honor." Still no word. "In the name, then, of your noble wife and your innocent little child, whom you seem to forget, I charge you to speak." # One instant he stood with his lips apart, they Re sank down, down, bending his great shoulders under the weight of the burden he accented. "I cannot, I cannot! I am lost, lost!" M. Lienard made a gesture of impatience. Then the expert arose and handed him, without a word, a scrap of paper whereon he had written a few words and six or seven bank notes of 1,000 francs each attached with a pin. M. Lienard turned toward Larocue. "So then," he said, "you refuse to speakT "I refuse," answered he hoarsely. v "Your cashier just now gave us a series of numbers of notes which were received from the country, and which were paid to Larouette the 2Sth of July. After that payment your cashier says nothing but gold remained in your safe. How do you account for the fact that the most of the numbered notes are found to-day in your safe?" "Impossible!"said Roger, astonished. "Look for yourself. These notes were paid to Larouette. He was murderw<l and robbed. The notes you say you paid him were found again in your hands. Now, according to you, one of the persons from whom you won last night, or tho person who paid you yesterday, must have killed and robbed Larouette." "What folly!" "You persist?" "I told the truth." "I would gladly believe you, but at least complete'your story. You see to what danger you expose yourself in refusing." "I am responsible." "What reason is so powerful as to cau3e you lO place your uueny, }uur very mu 111 dangerf" "Do not insist," said Roger. "Let it be so. The court of Versailles will perhaps be more fortunate than I. But one other question. When you were playing at the club were all the players known to you?" "The most of them, at least by sight. I seldom go to the club and never play. If I played last night it was with the hope that some happy chance might enable me to win, and so escape bankruptcy, dishonor and perhaps suicide." Ricordot gave little attention to this dialogue. He new rose, and handed to M. Lienard another package of notes, pointing to the corners which were all stained with ink. M. Lienard was an old magistrate, and nothing surprised him. His face did not change as he opened the door and called: "M. Guerrier, will you step here a moment?" Jean did so. "Please tell your employer what you told us a short time ago regarding the ink spots." Ho repeated what we already know and then ho was dismissed. "You hear that staceinent?" Laroque inclined his head. Ho felt his heart sink with fear, and foreseeing somo new tpid horrible explanation: "I hear and see," said Laroque, "and I think With you that that is very extraordinary." "Not so strange. As to me, I explain it Afloilv THa fcit.nntinn olpnr Vnnr hncinocQ was going badly, and you hod great difliculty to get the sum necessary to pay Larouette. You begged him to wait. Ho refused. You saw before you inevitable ruin, and one means only remained to you, and that was to take back the money you paid Larouette? rob him; and in case he resisted kill him." "What you say is infamous," said Roger, brokenly. "I am almost ashamed to have to affirm to you that I am innocent," "Those aro but phrases; I prefer a clear refutation." "Very well; then bo it so, s&co I must." He was about to speak, but paused again, and threw himself into a chair, burying his face in his hands in silence. "Speak, Laroque," said the magistrate, gently and persuasively. CHAPTER V. "I swear to you, by all that 1 hold most precious?my wife, my child?that I have told you the truth," said Roger, almost stified by the violence of his emotion. "How can the law believe you, Laroque, if you take away the only means possible of proving your iunocence?" "By the grace of God. Let my destiny be l' 1 1 ? .M ,'n ? ? aCCOmpusueu, suiu , ju a iiriji tone, and rising to his feet. "Arrest me. I am ready to follow you; but remember, I have nothing more to say." "Strange obstinacy," murmured M. Lienard. Then aloud: "Then I must arrest you. You wished it, and have forced me to do so." The magistrate put his notes in order and made Laroque sign his responses, received the declaration of Jean Guerrier, and with the report of the expert and the notes that formed part of the accusation, made a packet which was to go to Versailles to the judge who was charged with the signing. At this minute the clock struck 12. "Follow me," said Lienard. In passing through the counting room Roger found assembled all the employes, with Jean Guerrier, and all having a presentiment of coming trouble. They all gathered around bim. "My friends," said Roger, "I am arrested, charged with a horrible crime?murder followed by robbery. I um going to leave you, but be assurred I shall not be gone long. I shall have soon established my innocence; Continue in my service. Jean, I leave you in full charge. Good by, my children." Guerrier was the only ono who embraced him. "This accusation is ridiculous," said he, ' consolingly. "You will justify yourself easily." Laroque smiled, though ho had no faith in 1 establishing his innocence. In the courtyard ' were gathered all the workmen, and the word passed like wildfire, "The patron is arrested." 1 Laroque walked between the two detectives, who held his arms. His men adored him for his uniform justice, kindness and upright ' character. In one moment they were surrounded by these strong workmen, and Laroque would have had to make but a sign to be free. Lienard understood this, and experienced a moment's uneasiness. "Be calm, ray children," said Roger, "and leavo us. I am the victim of some mistake, and to-night, or at least to-morrow, I shall be here. Do not be uneasy about your pay, which you will receive to-night from your foreman." The busy fabric was still, for it was the dinner hour, and Roger turned at the gate and looked back at the building with a heart full of despairing grief, a sinister presentiment. "I shall never see this again," thought he. And leaning from the carnage he looked back at the dusty windows with aching eyes. ' "Doting the return voyagb-to Versailles, which he made between the two detectives, he thought of nothing but his wife and child. "When the train passed before Ville d'Avray his heart swelled. There but a few steps from him were the two cherished loves of his life, and as the windows of the car were lowered on account of the heat he had a sort of hallucination, he was so far from the truth 1 He imagined he heard the silvery voice of Suzanne, while she ran gayly among the flowers. Then he closed his eyes and wept in silence. Roger^Laroque had married Henriette, the only child of George Bernardit, proprietor of the machine works at Rue Saint Maur. His marriage with Henriette was the occasion of his being taken into partnership with his father-in-law, who was in poor health. And soon the death of M. Bernardit made him sole master of the great works. It was not a great fortune, but perhaps was the means of future wealth, but it was a proof of his probity and honor that Henriette's father should have left it to him. Roger was young and strong. He had | great confidence in himself, and instead of j going along in the samo old way he extended J the business, enlarged the shops and looked i about for new openings. As he did not posses# the machinery necessary to carry out his new ! plans, he accepted from an old friend of hi# : father's, Celestin Vaubernon, an old mnckin- j ist like himself, a loan of a 130,(100 francs, 1 which enabled him to get new and improved i machinery to fill the new orders ho received, j and augmenting thus the productive power I of the house gave it new life and vigor. Ho j had faith in the future, and indeed the two > following years were very profitable. j Laroque had hxit to make a sign (o he free. \ By his marriage Roger Laroque had formed j excellent relations with the best Parisian j society. Ho went much into company, and ' they were both, he and his wife, very happy, j particularly when in 18(50 Suzanne was born. Before his marriage with Henrietta, Roger had met one evening at a ball a woman whose remarkable lieauty surprised and troubled him. She was Mme. Julia de Noirville, wife of a celebrated lawyer, and daughter of a Spanish father and an Arab mother, and sho had the seal of her races strongly marked in her features and her nature. Her profile was' perfect, with fine nose, beautiful mouth and teeth, and magnificent eyes full of ardent flames. Her form was slender, yet rounded with a perfect grace, and her every movement was full of a soft and languorous charm. What fatality pushed them forward, who can tell? Love? If he had had time to reason with himself regarding the strnngo infatuation that drew him onward, perhaps he might have resisted, but in his unthinking youth, borne upon a resistless and rapid current, he fell a victim, and after he had fallen he WmcLa/I vrrt oV? r\ mo tn u rrn erv nnciKr pnrlo/1 I But it was too late; he was Julia's slave. We cannot explain nor excuse such a fault, but it was a sad face which was to bear bitter fruit in after years. Julia loved Roger with a strength and depth of passion that frightened while it wearied him. Relying upon that strange prescience of true love Julia knew that Roger did not love her, had never loved her, and her untamed nature made her fierce and cruel in her demands. This was the only fault in the life of Laroque, and lie was to expiate it cruelly. Lucien do Noirville, the lawyer, had man. ried Julia during a voyage he had made in Algiers. The first years of their marriage ] bis life was calm enough. Julia had two children, boys, and when they were, so to speak, out of her arms she plunged into the wildest extravagances, and her toilettes- were the marvel of all who saw her and who knew that Lucien, although making a comfortable income, could not afford such unlimited expense in dress and jewels. At last Lucien was constrained to have an explanation with his wife, the more so as he had overheard some very severe criticisms on her extravagance during the evening at a ball. As soon as they were at home he came to her and said: "Julia, I have something to say to j-ou, and it is useless to put it off any longer, for it is a vital subject. Wo are not rich, as you know, and yet your t&ilets cost 11101-0 every year than all our other expenses, and with them almost exceed our income. Twice before this I have paid bills which you lmvo contracted which were more than 80,iX)0 francs. Whilo I do not object to your dressing as well as our means afford, I do not wish you to go into debt again. I hnvo a horror of debt, and we have also the future of our children to consider." For an answer Julia gave him an indifferent look as she unfastened her magnificent . hair and let it fall over her shoulders. "It is, therefore, important, even urgent, that you check this reckless extravagance," j continued Lucien, a little bitterly, as he <-b- j served her indifference. "Listen to what I say, and it is my last word upon the subject. If you do not talco heed of what. I say 1 shall leavo you, and a separation will cause a great scandal and it will break niv heart, for I love .. you. "If you loved me," said sho scornfully, , though she grew pale, "how could you contain- ! plate such an ending?" "I do love you, "said he, rising to take leavo I of her, "but remember that I have two sons to | think of as well as my honorable name; and I beware, Julia, that you disobey my com- i mand, for I am resolved to pardon no more, I and, painful as a separation would be, I shall i ask it in the interest of my children." With this he retired, having said what lid considered to be his duty. Julia smiled dis- j dainfully before him, but sank into a chair, i pale and frightened, when he had gone. If : ; she had loved her husband, the sacrifice of her i 1 extravagant taste would bavo been a trifle, ; but, unhappily, she did not love him. Ska had married Lucien for freedom from a cramped and narrow life in Algiers, and found her only pleasure in the excitement tha admiration of her rare beauty brought. This conversation and the decision of Lucien came in an evil moment, for she had contracted, unknown to him, new debts to the the amount of 100,000 francs. For six months her creditors had waited peaceably, and then they began their demands, and lately* they had tormented her beyond measure for the settlement of their bills. She now beheld herself in a pic from which there was no escape. On the one hand the impatient crcd4 ltors threatening to go to Liucien, ana on tne other hand his righteous anger and his threat of a public separation. It was years before this that she had met Roger Loroquc, then little inoro than a boy, and she had loved him with such ardor that she forgot everything else?Lueien, children, the world and ever her luxurious toilettes, and her debts as well. Lucien de Noirvillo was one of the busiest lawyers of Paris, and Julia had, therefore, a complete liberty, and frequently went to amusements and in society alone, and thero met Laroquo, who was barely known to Lucien, as they had met but once or twice lit company. But this last interview with Lucien on tha subject of the debts, of which he knewai yet nothing, was the cause of Itoger Laroque's reception of a letter from Julia asking for an important interview, at one or the rmanf cfnrnc in fho T^lirro flf, ? ftVlftfllc A1? ready tho chain hung heavy on Roger, who now absented himself all he possibly could from his wife, so greatly he feared that she might divine something of his old relations with Julia. Julia's letter was so pressing that ho did not dare to disregard it, and he went to the place designated, where he found her a prey to poignant anxiety. "Roger," said she, "if you do not save me I am lost;" Roger, if you do not save me lam losV "What has happened ?" She told him that which we know, ana when she had finished he said: ''So you are in debt 100,000 francs. Very well. I will give them to you, only the sum is so large for me to spare that it will take me fifteen days at the least to get'- together. Will your creditors wait until then?" "I think so, when I tell them they can have it then. But at least tell me, will it injure the prosperity of your business to spare this sum? I will not accept it if it does." "Bo tranquil on that score." "Besides, Roger, I only accept it as a loan to repay. I will be wiser hereafter. Since I have your love what else do I want? Is that not enough to fill my life!" She left the store first for fear of observation in 60 crowded a nlace. Yet, with all her precaution, a man followed her home, and when she had gone up staii-s to her apartments he asked the porter who*it was, and he answered readily and unsuspiciously, "lime, de Noirville, the lawyer's wife." Fifteen days later Roger gave her the money ana sue was saveu. Grave events took place in France at this time. War with Prussia was declared, and one day Roger Laroque and Lucien, to their great surprise, found themselves engaged in the same regiment, the Sixth cavalry. When Roger met Lucien his first movement was to draw back, but Lucien held out his hand joyfully, as if glad to see him there. The life in common, the dangers and difficulties surmounted together, the thousand painful incidents of the campaign, valiantly" borne, brought them together in spite of Roger, who felt his conscience prick him at every kind word and every grasp of the hand Lucien gave hiin. Roger felt every day growing deeper in his heart a singular sense of need of repairing by some heroic action the wrong he had done Lucien, as far as it lay in human power, even with his own blood. But Fate was inflexible and favored Lucien alone, for one day in a reconhoisance Roger received a spent ball on the head, which rendered him insensible. Balls whistled around them, and as he fell those who saw him thought him dead. The dragoons were approaching and the French had to fly, but Lucien, who was strong, seized Roger and laid him across his horse, and spurring the poor creature followed his comrades with his burden. An hour later Roger regained consciousness and mounted his own horse, which had followed tho rest in their flight. Roger was somber and shamed and his brows drawn as ho said: 'T owe you my life. God is my witness that I stand ready to do for you as much aud more." Lucien smiled and reached out his hand: ,:I know you are, Roger. Let us say no more about it. This is common to warfare." Roger spoke no more, but grew more and more somber and melancholy, but his friendship for Lucien grew deeper and greater. The 1st of September came. The battle of Sedan commenced with dawn. Roger and Lucien were in tho heat of it, when an obus burst, crushing both Lucien's legs. Witness to this dreadful wound Roger with his troops were obliged to leave the battlefield with the other refugees almost wild with grief and horror, and having before his eyes the specter of his dead friend. Roger liid under tho ramparts of Sedan, and fell usloep from fatigue and slept until evening fell, when he awoke and thought of Lucien. "Poor friend!" said ho. "He died doing his duty; I must do mine. I will find him and bury him there, where ho fell." lie went out of the city, though broken with hunger and weariness, and with a stick for support took his way back to the battlefield. After a long search ho found him lying upon the ground with both legs crushed. But Lucien's heart still beat faintly in spite of his horrible wounds. Then Roger had a hope. If it were only possible to save him! Ho heard voices and called loudly, and in n 1. l.~ liio nncumn nnrl CAAU CrtlTin XTUIUJII UV7 1 CtCl ? VU XAio uuo Iivi ) uiiu wv.uv of the "Red Cross" society with a stretcher came. When ho showed them Lucien they Bui'l: "He is dying. It is* useless to move him." "But he is not dead." "We cannot save him. No one could; and there uro hundreds of others who are wounded needing us now." But Roger supplicated them, and at last they placed Lucien on the stretcher and took him to the surgeons, who looked at him and said: "It is useless to sjiend our time with him, while wo might save others. He has but a few minutes to live." Desperate, Roger took his way to a surgeon who lived in tho city, and by dint of prayers gained ]>ernnssion to bring Lucien to his house, and though ho also considered tho caso utterly hopeless, promised to do all ho could in the forlorn hope of saviug the wounded man. Roger gave tho doctor his own and Lucien's address and what money he had, and left. The next morning ho was a prisoner and was taken to Coblcntz, where he was kept for two months, when ho escaped. lie wrote to the doctor, but got no answer, and lie tried to get into Paris to see his wife and child, but uselessly, so be joined the army which was lighting at Loire. Again he was taken prisoner, and again escaped. After the commune he returned to Paris, and found his wife and child well, though mourning him for dead. At once he telegraphed to Sedan to Dr. Chanipeaux, who answered: "Noirvillo out of dnnger; amputated both legs; shall accompany him to Paris in a few days." Soon after this he received a letter from T "Drair frimnl." it ran. "I never hopel to sseo you again. I am at Rue d? Rome; but too weak yet to venture out. Comof I want to see you more than I can say. You? more than brother, Lucien." To go to Lucien was to see Julia again, to place himself between her and that poor man, that man to whom ho was bound by the ties of conmjon danger and comradeship, whom beloved with a love passing that of women, and who was now chained down forever to his chair. "What should he do? How escape? After a long struggle with himself ho decided to go. "I will seo Julia," said he, "and have an explanation. She will understand that there must bo nothing more between us, not even a smile, a look, a clasp of the hand. Wrong as we were before, now it would be a million fold more horrible." i So he went to see Lucien. Noirville was in jns room, and it was Julia who camo to meet jpm. She sprung forward, her hands ex?nded. Almost a year had passed sinco slio aad seen him. Her beauty was even greater, more dazzling than before, prouder and more finperious. But she loved Roger, and sho new soft and womanly in his presence. Roger bowed in respectful silence, not even ICering his hand. jf "Roger! Roger!" she said. "How much I save thought of you. How much I have (offered." \ She checked herself suddenly at the expression of unutterable horror depicted on his face. Then he spoke: ? "Julia, we must bury the past, and may God pardon us. I am the friend, the brother of Lucien. Do you understand?" " Aud while she shrunk back suppressing her heart's cry for its breaking agony, he went in to Lucien. He was lying on a lounge, pale, torn, unrecognizaDo aim aimosc witnout breath. His beard had grown. Two wooden legs had been adapted to his maimed limbs. When he saw Roger his face lighted up, and life eyes filled with tears, and the men em? Jgacedwith full hearts. ^ lh what a state you find me, Roger," said Lucien, showing his wooden legs. "Dr. Champeaux told mo all, and without you I should not be hero to day, but after all what a poor service it was." He sighed heavily, then said: "But I am very ungrateful. If I bad died what would have become of Julia and my children? Alive, even if I cannot plead longer, I cau at least have an office for consultation, and thus assure them their bread." When Roger, seeing htow weak he was, wished to retire, Lucien opposed and bade a servant call his wife, and she came. "Here is Roger Laroque, whom we have met ns friends before the war. I saved his life; ho saved mine. I love him like a brother. Our families from henceforth, I hope, will be but one." Julia bowed without answering. When Roger left she accompanied him, and at the moment he was about to open the outer door she seized his arm with an iron grasp. "So," she said, "you have not one word for me?" He pointed silently toward the room where Lucien lay, then said: "In the name of pity, if not love for him, hush." But Julia seemed insane. Her anger grew beyond bounds. "It is finished between us, then; all ended, forever!" Roger,, scarcely able to articulate, whispered hoarsely: "If I* knew some means of effacing, even at the most cruel sacrifice, the awful remem brance or want exists Detween us jl wuuiu take it at the cost of my life!" "Roger! Roger!" "But," he continued, with profound sadness, "your duty is traced clearly, Julia. Lucien, mutilated, isolated, needs all your devotion, and so your fault will have been, in time, expiated. For me, I do not know bow to expiate mine, and must bear its weight my whole life through." "Our families from henceforth will be as one." "Roger, do not leave mo without one word of love!" "Adieu, Julia." "Roger, Roger. It is true then?" "Yes; true, so help me God." "Very well, then. Now, listen to me. Roger, I love you. It is my excuse, not my fault. But if you leave mo this way, throw aside my love like an unworthy thing, I will never pardon you, and the day that misfortune falls heavy upon you rememlier that I shall not bo a stranger to its cause!" TO UK CONTINUKD. For tlie Yorkville Enquirer. AX EXPERIMENT WITH COTTON. Editor of the Enquirer: At the solicitation of a number of farmers, I ask space to give the result of an experiment on three acres of land planted in cotton the past season. The land was a light, sandy soil and has been in cultivation at least thirty. It was sowed in peas the year before, after a wheat crop was harvested from it. In January the soil was turned over with a twohorse Watt & Call plow. About the 1st of April the ground was nicely harrowed and then laid off in rows 31 feet apart. It was fertilized with 400 pounds of ground cotton seed and 200 pounds of John Merrymnn's high grade acid, with 200pounds of kainit, to the acre, bedded on. About the 20th of April the ground was planted with the Crawford cotton seed, and one sack of 107 pounds to the acre of Merryman's ammoniniated dissolved bone was applied. When a good stand was up, it was side-harrowed and thinned out. After that it was cutivated shallow with straight shovel and bow, the crop having thus been gone over three times, and was "laid by" about the 20th of July. On the 0th of December the cotton was ginned. . The following statement shows the yield and the expense: Ca. 4 bales, weighing 1020 pounds at !>J 8 172 80 112 bushels seed, at 13 cents per bushel, 10 so $180 00 I) II. 1200 pounds ground cotton seed, $ (i 00 3 bags acid, 0 15 3 bags acid and dissblved bone, 7 50 :'> bags kainit, I 80 Ginning, 7 30 Ragging and ties, 5 00 Two-tilths to cropper, (it uu Wear of tools, U 00?{(fc. 7Xet profit, *!>() 88 | To include these three acres with thirteen more, a one-horse crop, I made 14 bales of cotton averaging 453 pounds, which was sold at !)t cents, and also 200 bushels corn. On the thirteen acres mentioned, I used only ground cotton seed, acid and kainit, and not so much to the acre as on the three acre crop. W. ]}. Smith. Clover, S. C. 4 ? Making a Constitution.?The constitution of the United States was the result of three months' work by a convention of thirty-nine delegates from the states, of which Washington was president. Among the delegates were Roger Sherman, of Connecticut; Alexander Hamilton, Of New York; Benjamin Franklin, of Pennsylvania; James Madison, of Virginia, and Charles Cotesworth Pinckney, of South Carolina. Concessions were made by all hands, demands were relaxed or insisted upon, and the present constitution is the result. ^ J Ittwllanrmts Reading. NEWSPAPERS AND EIIITCATION. In the United States there is put?^ lished one paper to every four tliousand four hundred and thirty-three inhabitants. The country in which the proportion of newspapers to the population is next greatest, is also a country where the people govern themselves and pay great attention to education. This country is Switzerland, and it has one journal to every live thousand and seventy-three people. The next country in what may be called newspaper rank is Denmark, which has a small population and free schools. There is odo newspaper to every six thousand and twenty-two people. ' Belgium has few people who do not know how to read, and it has one paper to every six thousand six hundred and fifty-nine inhabitants. The cases of France and of Germany present an exception to the rule, that the newspapers are in proportion to the number of people, relatively to the whole population, who can read. There is one newspaper to every eight thousand and six hundred and forty-two people in France, and one to every nine thousand four hundred and seventy-four in Germany ; but the proportion of illiterates is, nevertheless, greater in France than in Germany, and the Germans pay much more attention to educational matters than do the French. In nearly the whole of Germany all children are compelled togo to school. The greater portion of newspapers in France is probably due to the keen interest that most of the people have in public affairs, and their great fondness'for reading stories. Nearly all French newspapers publish a continued story, generally printed in short columns across the bottom of the pages. Many more small and cheap newspapers are published in France and Germany. Great Britain and Ireland come next on the list, with one journal for every eleven thousand four hundred inhabitants. There are many illiterates in Ireland and some parts of England, and the schools are nowhpre free, as with us. nor is educa cation compulsory. The newspapers, however, are very widely circulated, and for the most part, very cheap. The very largest daily newspapers in London, which pay great sums every year for telegraphic dispatches and other news, are sold throughout the kingdom for one penny (two cents). We find that Sweden comes next on the list, with one newspaper for every thirteen thousand one hundred and twenty people. Very fewSwedes are unable to read, and primary education throughout Sweden and Norway is free and compulsory. Perhaps the fact that intemperance prevails to a most alarming extent in Sweden and Norway has something to do with the fact that journals and reviews circulate to a less extent there than in other countries where the standard of popular education is high. Austria has one paper for every fourteen thousand eight hundred and thirty-two people, and her companion kingdom of Hungary only one to every twenty-four thousand three hundred and forty-three. The difference is easily understood when we note the fact in Austria proper, eighty-eight per cent, of the adults are able to read and write, and in Hungary the newspapers which have the | largest circulation are printed in the German language. In Italy the number of people who are unable to read is very great, and there is but one paper for every twenty thousand three hundred and fifty-six inhabitants. The peasants of Italy are among the poorest in all Europe. Nearly two-thirds of the population over ten years of age are unable to read, and fifty-nine men and seventy-eight women out of every hundred are unable to sign the marriage registers. Russia in Europe is at the bottom of th(^list in the proportion of newspapers taken by the people. There is but one journal to every one hundred and nine thousand six hundred and eleven people in Russia. This is easy to understand when we read that in her general educational system Russia is still behind even such countries as Japan and Egypt. HABITS. No man is allowed to plead a bad habit in excuse for bad conduct. It is no palliation, but rather an aggravation of the offense that it was the result of habit. No man would think of pleading the habit of killing people as a palliation for the crime of murder. No robber, however steeped in his sin, would think of going before a court of jusice, and saying: "That I have been so in the habit of robbing that it has become a second nature to me, and I cannot help robbing." Yet one says: "I have formed the habit of swearing, and now I have lost all self-control and am no ?? "? vx n l-\ 1/-\ f'/? n lr ! n /? f U a no tv\ a IIJUI'U lCSJJUIISl UIC iwi uiimuj; IMC unuic of the Lord in vain." This pretended excuse for sin is as false as it is frequent. It is a lie and a sham. Habit cannot convert black into white, nor make sin innocent. Man is responsible for his habits, and when they enslave him he is responsible for the crimes to which these vile habits lead him. Laws, human and Divine, hold man responsible for crimes committed during a state of intoxication, and no pleading of the person that he had become habituated to drunkenness will ever palliate the offense committed against human law. I The responsibility is in the IbrmaI tion of the habit. A man may form | the habit of perverting truth until it is much easier to tell a lie than the truth, but this facility and disposiI tion to deal in falsehood cannot be pleaded as an extenuation of the sin. | I once approached a young man j whom I had accidentally heard take | the name his great Creator in vain, j lie said he had formed the vicious j habit when quite a boy, and now he often swore unconsciously. I besought him to free himself from a habit so vicious and so unworthy of a gentleman. The question here arises: What is the slave of a vicious habit to do? The answer is by the I help of God free himself. Make no compromise. Let him declare independence and hold to the declaration: Dieorconquer. With a strong will, a lofty courage, a high aim, and a fixed, unswerving purpose, determine to be a man, free and untramrneled, with God's seal on the brow *-? '1 I *?Imorrn in f hn hourf (\>\ illlll 111^ UIJUqU ill iuv uv??i it vvfii. v.v Methodist. Tin: Tax Lew.?One of the most notable events of the last session of the Legislature occurred in tiie Senate a day or two before its adjournment. The Supply Bill, as is well known, originated with the Committee of Ways and Means in the House of Representatives. That committee reported a bill providing for a general levy of five and a half mills for State purposes. The bill was discussed on the floor of the House at length, and a motion to reduce the general levy to five mills had a beg garly support of five or six votes. A 1 motion to make it oj mills received the supportof a respectable minority, but the bill finally passed its third ^reading with f>A mills in it. It then rcame to the Senate, received its first reading, was referred to the Committee of Finance, which in due time I reported it back for acceptance with-, out proposed change as to the gener- i al levy, and so it passed its second ; reading. On its third reading, Dr. J. ] (r. Black, the Senator from York, arose in his place and moved that the levy be made five mills. This mo- i tion lie supported in a brief, unim- | passioned but logical and convincing ' argument, based on indisputable tacts and figures. After some little dis- | cussion Dr. Black's proposed amend- ! merit was adopted by a considerable majority. At the afternoon session ; nf thp ?nmf? ilnv n mntinn wns mnrlp to reconsider the motion of Dr. Black, which was promptly voted down and the bill as thus amended returned to the House. The House, after a vigorous effort on the part of the friends of the 51 mills levy to defeat Dr. Black's amendment, adopted it without change. The reduction of a half mill in the general levy means a saving of seventy thousand (70,000) dollars to the people of the State. Comment is unnecessa ry.?Chester Reporter. FOR OVER SENSITIVE ONES. The evils growing out of oversensitiveness are numerous: 1. It makes him unhappy who is thus affected. It cannot be otherwise. To take offense when none is intended, and then to go off and brood over it, with many evil suspicions; to treasure up hard thoughts against the would-be-offender; to nurse and think about it until it grows to be almost a mountain ; to j be sullen and resentful, and to hold himself aloof from the offending party?this and much more breeds unhappiness. It must make one almost miserable for the time being. ' Joy and gladness do not grow in such soil, antagonized by such a disposi- j tion. 2. It makes him unlovely and unlovable. Over-sensitiveness tends j to beget hard feelings, resentfulness J and malice, and these destroy that love for one another enjoined by the Scriptures. He cannot love his neighbor as himself, and often transgresses the command which enjoins iorgiveness 01 injuries, it mars an otherwise beautiful character. It detracts largely from other good qualities. Instead of attracting oth- j ers, it repels thein. 3. The over sensitive brother is i betrayed into saying hard things about him whohasgiven theoflense; and is tempted to speak of him in disparaging terms. He steps over the bounds of the command which says, "Speak not evil one of another, brethren," and is lacking in that charity that "thinketh no evil," and "beneath all things," which is, in sight of heaven, of great price. 4. Over-sensitiveness tends to the neglect of duty. If offense is taken at the preacher, the brother will not hear him preach or pay quarterage ; and hence neglects the sanctuary, and breaks the Scripture and violates his solemn vows. If offense is taken at the Sunday-school superintendent, or teacher, he either stays away from Sunday-school, or deprives his children of this privilege. If the class-leader offends him, he neglects the class-meeting and prayer-meeting. If offended at the dayschool teacher, he keeps his children at home, and sins against them by letting them grow up in ignorance. And these things he does largely to spite the offender, under the mistaken impression that what he does will be a sort of punishment upon the offender; when in truth it is only a case of "cutting off the nose to spite the face." The world moves on, ! however, and the preacher and the church lives without the sensitive j brother; the class-meeting and Sunday-school does not die without his presence, and the day-school teacher getsalong pretty well. The only real sufferer being the over-sensitive brother. How sinful! Lastly, it gives one an unlovely and an unenviable reputation. It causes others to walk around him with great care and caution. It holds off his friends at long-taw. It hurts his influence in the church. He is somewhat unapproachable through fear of giving him offense, and is held in dread by those who know him.? Way of Life. HABIT OF EARLY RISING. "Early rising,"# Dr. Selden said, "was one of the surest means by which insanity is acquired." He said this habit was originally formed or forced by our Puritan forefathers in New England. Probably many of us can rememember the rude shocks by which we were awakened when youngsters early in the morn ing; unci neiore our nrainsano ootiies were sufficiently recuperated by sleep from the exhaustions and excitement of the previous day. "Some of us can remember that rousing old command, "Get up now, right away, or you can't have any breakfast." There was a command, coupled with a threat, and applied in such a manner as to kindle in the heart of the sleeping lion (or rather boy) the fierce fires of a stubborn resistance. The inalienable rights of growing boyhood had been invaded, and the hot, burning passion of anger was excited in the heart of the boy at the very outset of another days' experience. When roused from sleep by such a startling injuction, the boyish victim remained "as mad as a March hare" all day. A peremptory command to get up when one's sleep is as yet unfinished is a command which grinds the soul, curdles the blood, swells the spleen, upsets all good intentions, and dis- i turbs for an entire day the mental activities of a boy, just as a tornado disturbs and levels with advancing ruin a forest of mighty pines. "Another habit, but a less pernicious one, is that of rising too late in the morning, while still another habit tending to bring on insanity is the habit of rousing one's self sud- j firm 1 tr offnr ?.i 1 r\rwr nicrhfc ctnon A f- i <41/111 > (11 V</1 (i IH^ill O OIV. Vf/i 111 ter the brain has been in an amemic j condition for several liours, and af- : ter the mental processes have been i practically suspended during that period, the resumption of mental activity should be very gradual. A person who wakens suddenly, shakes himself and jumps out of bed as if he was struck by lightning, will certainly injure his own brain if he continues that habit for a suflicient length of time. The sudden tilling of the blood vessels by too sharp activity after walking, will in time j produce relaxation, or possibly rup- | ture, in the walls of the cerebral vessels. A person should waken himself slowly, and should rest a short time after the waking, indulging in some light, genial mental op- j eration, just enough to stimulate to ! normal activity the brain forces before he rises from the recumbent position. ? ? i Bay Beware of judging hastly. It i is better to suspend an opinion than to retract an assertion. "NO MAN'S LAND/' A few days ago a man who claimed to have been elected a delegate to Congress from the territory of Cimarron, applied for admission to the House, but he was promptly turned away by the adoption of a motion laying his certificate of election and other papers indefinitely on the table. This section of land will be found under this name in the older maps. It is the disputed strip of country north of the panhandle of Texas, whose inhabitants recently held a convention and elected officers. The name is derived from the largest river which flows through the proposed territory. This land apnears on the maDs at the interior de partment as "public lands." It is a parallelogram 30 miles wide, larger than the State of Delaware and nearly as large as New Jersey. It is hounded on the north by Colorado and Kansas, on the east by Indian territory, on the south by Texas, on the west by New Mexico. The Cimarron river rises near its northwestern boundary and empties into the Arkansas in the Indian Territory. Cimarron territory came into the possession of the United States in 1810, under what is known as the Florida treaty with Spain, by which treaty we secured Florida and lost Texas. The proposed territory of Cimarron is the most symmetrical division of the United States. Not far to the south of it, in Texas and. 'New Mexico, is the high table land know as Llano Estacado, or "staked plains," which forms the eastern base of the Itock Mountains and rises to a height of over 2,000 feet. The Cherokees have set up a claim to No Man's Land. It is based on treaties of 1828 and 1830 and patent of 1829 signed by President Van Buren. It is alleged that the title has never lapsed, and that it is as clear as that which holds the territory around Talequah. Disturbing Influences of "Induction."?The chief practical difficulties in working the telephone are due to the fact that when an electric current is passing along a wire it has the property of producing a current of opposite character in any wire in its vicinity. This is what'is known as induction, and it is owing to this faculty that the words spoken on one wire can be overheard on an adjoin nig uue. jli me neignooring Wire should be telegraphic, the feeble current of the telephone is overpowered by its stronger neighbor, and it is difficult, if not impossible, to catch the transmitted words amid the dincompared to the noise of a pot boiling?caused by the telegraph. Still more fatal to all telephonic communication is the presence of an electric lighting system in the vicinity of telphone wires, the powerful current necessary for lighting purposes causing "an incessant roar that renders speech an impossibility." Many plans have been tried for overcoming the unpleasant consequences of induction, the most successful of these being that of using an additional return wire instead of utilizing the earth for the completion of the circuit. The two wires are placed in close proximity, with the result that the disturbing influence is completely neutralized.?Iron and Steel Trades Journal. Dangerous Amateur Remedies.?Purgatives are a bane. The most dangerous of all are salts and castor oil. A great quanity of either can be bought for very little money, and this cheapness is at the bottom of many of our physical wrecks among the poor. The most potent breaker up of constitutions is the seidlitz powder. It is the pleasantest to the palate after one has once accustomed himself to the smotheringsensation, and is so handy to have a boxful in the bedroom. That box is Pandora's. Unless used with moderation, the seidlitz powder is a woeful weakener of the human system, and paves the way for almost every known ill. Especially the aged should never touch it or rochelle salts or castor oil, unless with the approval of a physician. Above all, there should be an operative moral law against women, who so hanker for the chance to play doctor outside of their own lamilies, recommending purges to the sick of their own sex. These amateur remedies have comr\ 1 i nn f n/1 v-? ?*?/-?? !r ? 1 ?? putaicu uic VYUihUi LUCICgUltU pilj* sician in thousands of cases, and have often been the remote cause of death.?New York Times. The Phenomena of Somnambulism.?The phenomena of somnambulism and their connection with the nerve centres have not been satisfactorily accounted for. They probably depend primarily, says, the Lancet, upon a directing impulse of sensory origin. Some of our actions often become by practice so nearly automatic that partial sleep or stupor does not arrest their unconscious performance. In somnambulism the intellect and controlling will are torpid, while the sensorimotor man whom tjiey should govern is awake and active. As in dreams the intelligent sensorium is alone drowsily active, with possibly a noticeable tendency to restless movement, so there may be other states of dreaming, in which the centers of motion are stimulated to a more powerful but unconscious action. Partial counteractives to somnambulism may be found in throwing off worries, and in the pfoper regulation of evening meals. Where He Fooled Himself.? A man dishonest enough to engage to do work, take pay for it, and then not do it, would be commonly supposed to be equal to any kind of thieving, provided the chances for discovery seemed slight. Put such a fellow missed a rare chance the other day. 1 le took a carpet from a house to clean and brought it back without ever having opened it. The woman who was to put it down judged by the dirt that this was the case, but when she found a diamond stud among the dirt, she had the unanswerable testimony. A member of the family had lost the stud six months previous. What could be more delicious than the expression of the rascal's face when confronted with such evidence of his knavery? and a lost opportunity??Boston lleraUl. The First Bayonet.?That very formidable weapon, the bayonet, is said to have derived its name from the fact that it was first made at Bayonne, and its origin illustrates the proverb: "Necessity is the mother of invention." A Basque regiment was hard pressed by the enemy on a mountain ridge near Bayonne. One of the soldiers suggested that, as their ammunition was exhausted, they should fix their long knives into the barrels of their muskets. The suggestion was acted upon. The first bayonet charge was made, and the victory of the Basques led to the manufacture of the weapon at Bayonne and its adoption into the armies of Europe. A