University of South Carolina Libraries
lewis m. grist, proprietor. J gin jndcpcndcnt Jlcii'spapcr: efor the promotion of tint political, Social, ^.gpiculturat and (tfominqtial Jntcrcsfs of fhcL ^outh. | terms?$2.00 a year is advance. VOL. 40. YQRKVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1894. ISTO. 4Q. BY FERGUS Author of "The Myst< Copyright, 1891, by the Author. CHAPTER IV. There was 110 doubt that Felix in* - ? n(r teUUbU WJ UUJIU1IUB pussiujj Uiuutiu vu as Francis. For how long I was uncertain; perhaps for the rest of his natural life or until he made Olivia his wifa In this latter event he could roveal the fraud with impunity and revert to his own identity. I could not help thinking that he had been informed beforehand of the death of his brother, else he would not have dared to keep up his imposture with a possible revelation so near at hand. Even assuming such ignorance, I had now told him of the death myself and bo strengthened his position. I regretted that I had not been more cautious. I was curious to see whom ho would bring forward as a witness to his identity. Scarcely Olivia, as if she once had suspicion of the truth she would never rest until all was cleared up to her satisfaction. I hardly thought Felix would run such risk, the more so as bis story of losing the pearl ring could not stand against my assertion that it was on the finger of the dead man. If he still persisted in declaring himself to be Francis, I determined that he should ride with me to the Fen inn and there see the oorpse of the man whose name he had so shamelessly assumed. That would surely settle the matter. Felix was bolder than I gave him credit for, as his witness proved to be none other than Olivia Bellin. She entered the room with assumed lightness, but her face was anxious, and she glanced every now and then at Felix as though to seek his aid and countenance. He, as was natural, wore a haggard expression. His nerves were tensioned up to the highest pitch, a matter of small wonderment, seeing that his life's happiness depended upon this interview. "What is this strange story you bring, Mr. Den ham?" asksd Olivia, greeting me ooldly. In our beet days we were never overfriendly. "Has not Mr. Briarfleld told you?" "I have not had the time," interposed Felix quickly. ' 'Beyond a few hints of the truth she knows nothing." "Not even that you are Felix Briarfield?" "Felix?" repeated Miss Bellin in surprise. "But you are making a mistake, Mr. Denham. This is Francis." "So he says." "You see, Olivia," said Briarfleld, addressing Miss Bellin, "Denham insists upon taking me for my brother Felix. " "How absurd! I assure you. Mr. Denham, that Felix is in Paris. I received a letter from him only this morning." "Impossible," said I, taken aback by the authority of her tone. "It is quite true," she continued hurriedly. "Excuse me for a moment, and I shall fetch the letter. You must believe the evidence of your own eyes." When she left the room, Felix turned toward me with a gleam of triumph in his eyes. "Are yea convinced?" he asked mockingly. "No, I am puzzled." "In what way?" "lb think how you managed to get that letter sent on from Paris without being there yourself." "Against stupidity the gods themselves fight in vain," quoth Felix, shrugging his shoulders. "I assure you that my brother Felix is in Paris. Miss Bellin is about to produce a letter received from him only this morning, and yet you insist that I am not myself and that he whom I pretend to be is dead. You are mad." "Here is the letter," said Miss Bellin, entering at this moment "You see, it bears the date of yesterday. He is at present staying at the Hotel des Etrangers. Rue de St. Honore. but talks of going to Italy." I examined the letter closely. It was genuine enough. Of that there was no doubt as it bore the French and English postmarks. 1 quite believed that it was written by Felix, but also that it had been forwarded from Paris by an emissary of the young man in order to keep up the needful deception. Certainly Felix had a marked talent for intrigua "If Felix Briarfield is in Paris, " said 1, handing back the letter to Olivia, "who was it I met at the Fen inn last night?" "The Fen inn?" replied Olivia, with a puzzled look. "Why, no one lives there now, Mr. Denham. It is in ruins and has been empty for over two years. " "Nevertheless it was tenanted last night, and I slept there; also 1 met Francis Briarfield at the same placa " "Francis was not out of the house last night," declared Olivia decisively. "Quite true," he replied. "I went to bed early with a bad headache." "It was not you I met at the inn last night, but your brother Francis." "How can you persist iu so foolish a story?" said Olivia angrily. "This is Francis, and Felix is in Paris. You could not have met either of them at the Fsn inn last night, and indeed I can't believe that you slept there at alL " "1 did, Miss Bellin, and there I met Francis." "If you did, where is he now? Why not clear up the mystery by bringing him here with you?" "Because he is dead." "Dead!" she echoed, catching the arm of Francis. "Dead! Whoisdead?" "Francis Briarfield." "Ho is mad, " she said to Felix in a low tone, her face white with fear. "Upon my word, I am beginning to think bo myself," I said, losing my temper, "but I declare on my oath that *1 speak the truth. There is only one way of solving the riddle. Come out with ma to the Fen inn and look on the face of the dead man 1 say is Francis Briarfield. A single glance will givo the lie to the assertion of this man who pretends to bo your lover!" Felix looked at Olivia, she at him. It seemed to mo that they grew a shado paler. I wondered whether any guilty bond existed between them, as certainly they seemed to understand one another very well. Olivia appeared anxious to protect Felix from harm. Either she really believed him to be Francis or had taken her heart from 0110 brother and given it to the other. It was sho who spoke first, and throughout the interview the woman played a more daring game than did the man. Her attitude puzzled me, and for the moment I was quite in the dark as to what were her real thoughts regarding my story and that of the pseudo Francis. "We cannot go tonight," she said, with Konio hesitation "lint, tomorrow morning, if you like, we will ride out to the iuiL " I glanced at my watch. "It is now 5 o'clock," said I, "and will be light up to 9 or thereabout There is plenty of time for us to ride to the Fen inn, and I think it advisablo to do so at once." "Why not tomorrow morning?" objected Felix. "Great heavens, Briarfield, have you no natural affection? Don't I tell you that your brother is lying dead there? Can't you understand tho necessity of attending to so serious a matter without delay? If you have no affection, you might at least have decency." "I declino to believe that my brother is dead, " said Briarfield coolly. "That letter shown to you by Olivia proves that he was in PariB yesterday. He NE INN. 3 W. HUME, 3i\y of a Hansom Cab.'' ! could not havo come over so quickly, and besides 'would havo no reason to go to the Fen inn." "Of course if you insist upon assumt ing your brother's namo I can say nothing, but I know the truth and had it from the lips of Francis." "What do you mean?" asked Olivia. "I mean that Francis returned from Chilo a few days ago and went to the Fen inn by appointment in order to hear the explanation of Felix." "What explanation?" "The reason of Felix passing himself off as Francis." A*?i i-i-i if " xou are uiieny iuisttus.cn, jiu. i^uham. I swear that this is Francis, the man to whom I am engaged " "Can you wish for stronger proof?" asked Felix, with the marked intention of insulting me. j I paid no attention to his sneer, bat I turned round to Miss Bellin and asked I a pertinent question. "Where is the pearl ring you gave Francis, Miss Bellin?" "The pearl ring?" she said, much agitated "Yes, I did give Francis a pearl ring, but he lost it Did you not lose it, Francis?" she added, turning toward i her lover. "Two months ago." i "Well, Miss Bellin," said I deliberj ately, "if you come out with me to the Fen inn, I will show you the pearl ring on the finger of the dead man." "It cannot be?it is impossible," she , murmured, clasping her hands together in great distress. "I am utterly bewildered by your talk. Francis returned from Chile three months ago, and my mother consented to our engagement." "It was not Francis who returned,'' I i asserted doggedly, "but Felix?Felix, j who pretends to be in Paris." "But this letter?" "Bah! That was written hereby Brfarfield and forwarded to a friend in j Paris, to be posted back to you.'' "Liar!" cried Felix, dashing forward with clinched fists. "If you don't retract that statement, I'll" "For pity's sake, be quiet," entreated Olivia, throwing herself between us. j "Do not bring my mother here. Francis, you do not know the harm you are doing. Mr. Denliani," she added, turning to me as he suddenly stepped back, j "do you say this gentleman is Felix?" i "I do most decidedly. " ; "I tell you, sir, it is not so. This is my affianced lover, Francis. Great heav.. ifftiiiftn mnlro ft inisfnko in CUOy Wl&AlA U If V1UMJ* U.MUV so serious aiuatter?". "I believe the resemblance between the brothers would deceive any one." "Let us settle .the question by going to the Fen inn," said Felix sharply. ] "I'll wager that there we find neither landlord nor any one." "You don't believe me?" said I quickly. "I do not, sir. I believe you have dreamed all this rubbish. 1 am here?L ! Francis Briarfield. Felix, my brother, i is in Paris, and as to your cock and bull story of a murder at the Fen inn I don't believo a word of it." I "Very well, Briarfield," I said, pick! ing up my hat "You havo chosen your i coursa I will now choose inina Hitherto I have kept the affair quiet for your sako and for that of Miss Bellin. Now I will place the matter in tho hands of ; the authorities and wash my hands of I the wholo affair." "Do what you think fit," retorted Briarfield fiercely and turned his back on me. Stung by his contemptuous man| uer, I walked smartly toward the door, 1 but was stopped on the threshold by Miss Bellin. "It is no usa your going to see the police, Mr. Denham," she said anxiously. "I assure it will only get you iuto tioubla Your story is too wild to believa Tlioy will say you aro mad." "I'll tako tho risk of that I am not oo nnf fn Vinlinva flm Avi. J CI DU 111UU UO UVV VU uwtv ? V v??v v.. denco of my own eyes. Let mo pass, j Miss Bellin." I "Stay!" sho said in a peremptory i tone. "Let me speak a moment with Francis." I bowed my head in token of acquiescence, and sho glided back to where Felix was looking out of the window. For a few minutes they spoke together in low, hurried voices. Sho seemod to be For a few minutes they spoke together in low, hurried voices. entreating and ho refusing. At length he evidently yielded to her prayers, for ho sank into a chair with a gesture of j despair, and sho returned to my side. "I don't wish you to get into trouble, Mr. Denham," she said coldly, "nor do I wish you to use my name, as you asI suredly will do in making your report j to the police. I believe this story of yours to be a hallucination, and in orI der to convinco you of it am willing to j ride out to the Fen inn tomorrow with j you and Francis. When we arrive there, j I assure you we shall see nothing. " "I am certain you'll see more than you bargain for," said 1 dryly. "I would rather you went there tonight." "I cannot. My mother would i.ot al; low me to go. Be a little considerate, | Mr. Denham." I saw tho justice of this reasoning and forboro to press the point. Alter all, so long as they went the time did not much matter. "Then let it he tomorrow morning," I said coldly, "at 10 o'clock. 1 will bo at your park gates. If you and Ilriarfiehl are not there, I go at onco to the police office and give information concerning the murder of Francis. " CHAPTER V. After that momentous interview I presentod myself to my astonished relaj fives. These were two lovable old maids, sisters of my mother, who had passed the best part of their existence in the | Cathedral square of Marshminster. They know everybody and all about everybody and pottered through life with the assistance of a comfortable income which they shared in common, a trifle of gossip and a series of afternoon teas. At the daily services of the cathedral they wero always to bo seen and were intij matcly acquainted with the dean and chapter. Even the bishop condescended to take tea with them on occasions, and they held their heads high in consequence. Moreover, they loved mo greatly, though I was but a graceless nephew to the good souls. "When I made my appearance, the Misses Durrant received me with open arms. They had not expected me till much later in the month, but had already prepared for my reception. My portmanteau, which I had ordered to bo sent down* from London, had arrived. tho bedding of my room was thoroughly well aired, and Rachel, their handmaiden, spread for me a sumptuous meal. When I washed and clothed myj self anew, I made an excellent meal, ; for the long tramp from the Fen inn made me hungry. I then sat down for a ohat and a smoko. "I think he may, Jane," hinted So' phia gently. j "If ho sits near tho open window, I Sophia," was the firm reply, whereupon, ' this little comedy having been gone ' through, as usual, I produced my pipe ' and took my appointed station. Thus I settled, I made inquiries about Bollin Hall and its inmates. J "I seo you have the Loudon beauty i down here, aunt." "Olivia Bellin," said they both in a breath and then sighed. "Is there anything to mourn about, Aunt Jane?" I asked, pricking up my : ears for useful information which I knew these gossips could supply. "Ah," sighed Aunt Jane, folding her withered hands, "who knows the wick cdness of tho heart?" "Olivia's heart" i "Dear me, no, Lionel," said Aunt Sophia scandalized. "Sho is a good girl I ?as good as sho is lovely?and not so j silly as her mother," concluded the old lady, with feminine spite. "Then to whose heart do you allude?" This question started a duct between tho two old ladies. "Francis Briarfield! You remember, \ Jane?" "Yes, Sophia. That hussy with the | feather t>oa" "Was seen speaking to him in tho j cathedral by Bishop Jovon's tomb." "And he seemed very intimate with ! her." "Still, Jane, he was glad when she left Marshminster." "Rather relieved, I think, Sophia." I "And poor Olivia Bellin knew noth- , i ing about his wickeduess," they concluded together. My heart beat rapidly. In this idle talk I saw a link which would bind Felix Briarfield to the girl at tho Fen inn. "Was she a pretty girl?" I asked with well simulated carelessness." "Handsome is as handsome does," ; j snorted Aunt Jane, who was remarka- j 1 bly plain herself. "Sure, sister, she was not ill looking," said the gentler Sophia, who had been a toast in her youth. "Sho had a good figure and dark hair and eyes. I admired her complexion, Jane. It was like cream and a dimple hero," finished Sophia, touching her chin. "A pretty, ' #11%v?r\ln ' ' fjjrettrjr UIUipiO. "Sophia!" i "Well, it was a pretty dimple, Jane. I No one can deny that." j In this description 1 espied Rose j : Strent, especially as regards tho dimple, j I had noticed it myself. Evidently there i was an understanding between this wo! man and Felix which had led her to ; taking np her quarters in tho Fen inn ; with her father, if indeed tho landlord was her father?a fact I was beginning to doubt I set tho garrulous ladies off on another tack. "Do you know anything about the Fen inn, Aunt Jane?" "The lone inn, child? Never name ! itl In my youth it was tho scene of a terriblo murder, and sinco that time no one has lived in it save one man." "It is now in ruins, "said Sophia, with bated breath, "and is said to be haunted." "Does any one go near it?" "No one. I don't think there is a man in the country who Nvould venture near tho lone inn after dark. Two years ago a stranger refurnished and repaired it, but he did not stay longer than a week." "What became of him?" "Ho disappeared," said Aunt Sophia, nodding her head solemnly, "vanished altogether. It was supposed that ho was drowned in the marshes. The house is still furnished, I believe, but no one goes near it" I "What about the landlord?" I "It's in chancery," said Aunt Jane I wisely. "It has no landlord. " After this discussion I went to bed j with plenty to think about I saw well i enough that Strent and his daughter < had taken up their abodo in tho ruined houso for a certain purpose. That pur- j poso was, I vorily believed, to encompass ; the death of Francis Briarfleld, and now x ~ ~~~J 4-lwvvv /I i nnrv I mat 11/ WUS UCCUUipilBilCU IJ1DJ/ mooypeared. As Aunt Sophia said, the furniture of the former proprietor was still there, so a touch or two had rendered the house habitable. This accounted for their unwillingness to receivo me as a guest and for tho mildewed aspect of the rooui6 which had struck me so forcibly. A second tragody had accentuated tho evil reputation of tho house. But, while tho first tragedy was known to all, the second was known only to myself and to?Felix Briarfleld. I felt certain that he was connected in some way with tho unexpected death of his brother. Francis had been lured to that lonely inn for the purpose of being murdered, and the crime had been accomplished by Strent and his daugh- | ter. So far as I knew, Felix had not been near the house on tho night in question, yet he was without doubt morally guilty of the crime. Olivia, believing him to be her lover Francis, did not place much faith in my story, but surely, when she I was convinced by tho sight of the dead ! body and I had torn the mask from the face of Felix, she would let mo deal with him as he deserved. Next morning I was up betimes, and telling my aunts I would not bo back till late went round to the sole livery stablfes possessed by Marshmiuster. These were kept by Bob Fundy, a bow legged little man, who had been a jockey in his youthful days and who was a great friend of mine. He expressed great joy at my reappearance in Marslnninster and mounted me on tho best of !?.i steeds. I was in too great a hurry to exchange moro than a few words with the genial old fellow and set out at once for Bellin Hall. Later on I regretted my haste, as a few words of explanation from Fundy would have saved me much money and a long journey. At 10 o'clock I was at the park gates, but Felix and Olivia had not yet put in | mi appearance. I intended to denounco Felix as a murderer in tho presence of his brother's dead body and to tell Miss Bellin of his friendship with Rose Strent. Jealousy, if nothing else, might niako her guess tho truth and prevent Felix currying 011 tho shameless imposture in which ho now indulged so insolently. Onco I proved tho identity of ! tho dead man by means of tho jioarl ring, which Olivia would recognize, I hoped to make short work of the pretensions of Folix. It was a difficult task, ; but I was now seized with what is known as detective fever and determined to run the assassin to earth. His i name, I firmly believed, Wits Edward Strent and that Felix was an accomplice. It was questionable whether Rose Strent had taken any active part in the j commission of the crime. In a few minutes I saw them riding down the avenue. They looked a handsome couple, ami I sighed to think how tho outward appearance of Felix belied i his foul spirit. Olivia looked remarkably beautiful and managed her horse to I perfection As they drew near I noticed their haggard looks, as though they had | passed tho night without sleep, and | again tho thought flashed through my mind that thero might bo nn understanding between them, j But, however much Olivia knew, I felt sure she was ignorant that Francis had been done to death by his brother, elso oven she would have recoiled from so baso a scoundrel. "Hero we are, you see, "said Felix defiantly as I raised my hat to Miss Bellin, "quito ready to set out 011 this wild gooso chase." j "I ani ufraid you will find it more seI rious than you think, Briarfield. " | "At all events, wo won't find that I 1 body you speak of. " j "I am certain you will, Mr. Felix Brij arfiold." "You still insist that Francis is Fc- 1 i lix?" said Olivia as wo rode 011 together. "I am absolutely certain of it." "What about this?" interposed Felix, j reining up his horse niul handing in a telegram. "Olivia received it this morning." I I glanced at the telegram. It was ' 1 from Felix in Paris to Olivia at Marsh- i minster and stated that ho was going 1 to Italy in a few days, but hoped to re- j I turn for tho wedding. I handed it back ; without remark, but it struck mo as ; j strango that such matter should have been sent by wiro instead of by post. | Tho telegram, to my mind, was another movo in tho game Felix was playing so boldly. "Well, Denham," ho said, restoring j 1 il..l A_l_ I it to nis pocK.ec, you seo uy uim tuiu- i gram that Felix is in Paris, and, if so, I ! must bo Francis." "In that case," said I, looking at him j keenly, "who is tho dead man at the j I Fen inn." j "There is nono there," he answered jestingly, yet with a lurking anxiety , which I was quick to noto. "I havo no , third brother. Wo aro twins, not trip- ! lets." I vouchsafed no reply to this witti- i cism, which I judged to bo in bad taste, j but rode on rapidly. By this timo we i had left tho town far behind and were j some way on tho winding road which crossed tho marshes. Miss Bcllin evidently did not desire to talk, for she : pushed forward well in front, and as Felix also relapsed into silence we rode on smartly without uttering a word. A ; more dismal riding party I never saw. ! Tho keen wind brought a touch of color into tho pale cheeks of Olivia, but she , had dark circles under her eyes and I looked considerably worried. Felix rode I by her side and addressed her every now i and then, but I was too far in the rear ! to know what they said. I felt anything ! but comfortable while in their company, as they regarded me with great disfavor. "Never mind," I thought, touching i my horse with tho whip. "Once I bring ' Felix face to face with his dead brother, j and he will be forced to abandon these ! airs. At whatever cost, I must tear the mask off him, if only for tho sake of that poor girl, who believes so firmly in such a villain." There was no chaugo in the appearance of tho Fen inn as we [ rode up to it save that it looked more i ruinous than ever. Tho solitary building had a sinister aspect, and even in | tho bright sunshine hinted at secret | murder. I noticed how thick grew the ! grass around tho house, thereby marking i more strongly its desertion and desola~ ii. l- _ j i. I tion. sure enougn, it nuu nut iweu inhabited for a considerable period, and this fact alone roused my suspicions as to the motives of Strent and his daughter. They could havo no ggod design in staying in so haggard a dwelling. "You see, the inn is a ruin," said Olivia, pointing toward it with her riding whip. "No one could find shelter there even for one night." "I did, Miss Bellin." ''It was a dream,'' sho answered?"an idle dream. You may havo slept there, but you never mot Francis within its walls." "Wo are on a fool's errand," said Felix derisively. "I thought so all along." "Come and seo," I said, dismounting at the door of the inn. "He laughs best who laughs last." It seemed to mo that Olivia made as though to turn her horse's head away from the house, but by this time tho hand of Felix was already on tho bridlo rein, and sho suppressed tho momentary inclination to flee. Tho action revived my suspiciona With a half sigh she dismounted with the aid of Felix, and we entered tho house. All was as I had left it. Tho blinds wero down, the room mildewed and desolate, the fireplace filled with heaps of gray ashes. Olivia drew her riding skirts closely round her and shuddered. I led up stairs to tho room of Francia Hero tho door had fallen down, and wo j walked on it into tho room. To my sur- j priso, tho bed was empty. "Well, Dcnham, "said Felix after u i pause, "where is the dead body to whom you liavo given my name?" "Somoone has been hero and taken it away." "I don't think so. Tho absence of the fcody only proves tho truth of what I said from the first You dreamed your adventuro." Before I could reply Olivia burst into ! hysterical tears. The strain on her j nerves was very great, and now that tho j climax was reached sho broke down ut- j terly. Felix took her in his arms and ! soothed her as ho best could, whilo I, i utterly bewildered by tho turn events ; had taken, carefully searched tho room. j All was in vain. I could find neither body nor clothes nor aught pertaining i to Francis Briarfield. I began to think to myself that I must be dreaming. But J that was out of the question. The only | conclusion I could como to was that Strent had watched me leave the house ' and then returned to mako away with j tho body. Without doubt it was Strent i ! who had slain my unfortunato friend ' ! and now had hidden tho corpse in somo | j quaking bog. When Olivia broke down, Felix led i her from tho room, and I went to tho | front door, there to find them mounted j ! on their horses. "Wo are going back to Marshmiu- [ 1 stor," said Felix, gathering up his reins. ; j "Thanks to this wild goose chase, Miss ; Bellin is quite ill. I trust now, sir, that j you arc convinced." j "I am not convinced that you nro j Francis," I answered doggedly. "You still think I am Felix?" ho ! ! asked, with a sneer. I "I do, notwithstanding tho disappear- : ance of the body, which lias been made ! away with by Strent. I firmly believe j that Francis is dead and that you are Felix Briarfield." "As we have seen nothing, Mr. Den- { ham," said Miss Bellin coldly, "Imust ; declino to believe your statement This lyentleman is Francis, and Felix is in Paris." "Very good," said I quietly. "Then | 1 leave for Paris tomorrow." "For what reason?" I "I go to seek Felix. Yon say ho is in j j Paris. I say ho is now before mo on that j horse. You came to the Fen inn and j found nobody, Miss Bellin. I go to j | Paris?to the Hotel des Etrangers?and j I'll wager that I shall find no Felix." They looked at one another in silenco j for a few moments. My remark cvi! (lently scared them. "Are you going to put this matter in j I the hands of the police?" asked Felix. ! "It is useless to do so now, as the j body of your brother has disappeared. I ! shall go to Paris, and if I do not find I Felix there" "Well?" she said, seeing I hesitated. "I will tell the police ail and have | this neighborhood searched," I said, ' concluding my sentence. Olivia laughed scornfully and rode ! away, while Felix, preparing to follow, | uttered a last word: "Consult a doctor, Dcnliam, at onco. | You are mad or subject to hallucinai tions." ! And with that he set off at a smart | trot, and I was left alone at the door of j the inn. After the extraordinary experiences I ! had undergone I began to think there j ; might bo something in what he said. : ! Nevertheless I determined for my own j satisfaction to go to Paris and see if Fe- i lix Briarfield was at the Hotel des Etrangers. If ho were not, then my sus picions might jirovo to lie correct, but if ho were then I might believe that my adventure at the inn was a dream. CHAPTER VI. Having made up my mind what course to pursue, I returned to Marshmiustcr, took leavo of my relatives awl left that evening for London. There I remained two days rcviowing tho strange events in which I had lately been nn actor. At ouo moment it was in my mind to abandon what certainly seemed to bo a hopeless search, for I could but see it was a matter of great difficulty to lay my hand on the assassin of Francis. It would bo better, I thought, to place tho matter in tho hands of tho police and lot thorn thrash it out for themselves. Two reasons prevented my taking this ignoblo course. Ouo was that Francis Brairfleld had been a collogo friend, and I was unwilling that his death should go unavenged. Tho story of his lovo for Olivia, which ho had told me at tho inn, contained tho elements of a strango romauco fitly capped by his tragic end. I felt certain that Felix, through his hired bravo?for I could call Strent by no other name?had encompassed tho death of his brother. Felix was passionately in lovo with Olivia, and tho unexpected return of Francis not only threatened to tako her away from him, but also to roveal tho scoundrelly fashion in which ho had behaved. At one blow Folix would loso her,iove nod respect. Therefore his motive for averting such a catastrophe was a strong one. That ho should determine on fratricide was a terriblo thought, but there was no other courso left to him by which to securo tho woman ho lovod and the respect he valued. It was tho mad action of a weak, passionate man, such as I knew Felix to ba Too cowardly himself to striko tho fatal blow, he had hired Strent to carry out his plans, and tho death had been duly accomplished, though in what way I was quite unablo to say. It was sufficient for mo to know that Francis was dead, and I felt myself called upon to aveugo his death. Tho other motive was perhaps the stronger one of detectivo fever. I was a bachelor. I had a good income and nothing to da Thereforo this quest was one of great interest to ma I had often hunted beasts, but this man hunt was a much more powerful incentive to excitement. I could hardly sleep for thinking of tho case and was constantly engaged in piecing together the puzzle. As yet I had no clear clew to follow, but tho first thing to bo settled was the identity of Felix at Marshminster with Felix at Paris. Once I established that point and proved conclusively that Felix had never left England, I would bo in a position to prosecuto the search in tho neighborhood of Marshminster. I own that there was an additional reason in tho pique I felt at tho scornful disbelief of Olivia. She evidently considered my story puro fiction, and tho strange disappearance of tho corpse from tho inn confirmed her in this belief. Irritated by such contompt, I was resolved to bring homo tho crime to Felix and to provo conclusively to her that ho was masquerading as her lover, tho dead Francis. It would bo a cruel blow when assured of tho truth, but it was better that sho should suffer temporary pain than drag out a lifelong agony chained to a man whom I knew to be a profligate, a liar and a murderer. At tho end of two days I confirmed myself in tho resolution to hunt down tho criminal and decided as the first step to go to Paris. Leaving Victoria by tho night mail, I arrived in the French capital next morning. Anxious to loso no further time, I hastened at once to tho Hotel des Etrangers, in tho Rue do St Honore, and there took up my quarters. Recovered from tho fatigues of tho journey, I partook of luncheon and then mado inquiries about Felix Briarfield. To my surprise, I not only discovered that ho was in Paris, but that he was in tho hotel at that moment "Has ho been staying hero for any length of time?" I asked tho manager. "For six weeks, monsieur, and now talks of going to Italy," was tho astonishing reply. To say that I was surprised would givo but a faint idea of what I felt That tho assertion of Olivia should thus provo truo was almost impossible of bolief. If Felix was hero and had been hero for tho past six weeks, it could not possibly bo ho whom I had met at Marshminstor. Assuming this to bo tho caso, who was tho man of tho Fen inn who called himself Francis? My head was whirling with tho endeavor to grapple with theso thoughts. Suddenly an idea flashed into my brain which might possibly account for tho mystery. "Can it bo," thought I, "that it was Felix whom I met at tho inn?Felix, who tried to pass himself off as Francis and then invented that lying story? Perhaps ho was not dead, as I thought, but merely plunged into a tranca When ho rovived, seeing tho uselessness of fighting with Francis, ho fled back to Paris. " All this timo I stared hard at tho manager. In reality I was puzzling out tho mystery and not paying any attention to the man before me. He, however, grew weary under my regard and ntiAnoi ITT II1UYCU UUCUOiiJ* "Mr. Briarfleld is now in his room, monsieur. Shall I tako to him your card?" "If you please," I answered mechanically and handed it to him. In a fow moments a waiter came with a messago stating that Mr. Briarfleld would bo glad to see mo. I followed tho man in a state of tho utmost bewilderment and found myself in tho prcsenco of Felix before I knew what to say or do. He was so liko Francis, whom I thought was lying dead at tho Fen inn?so liko the man who passed as Olivia's lover? that for tho moment I could do nothing but staro at him. Yet ho could bo neither of tho two, for ono was dead, and tho other I had left behind at Marshminster. "How aro you, Denham?" ho said, somewhat surprised at my strange conduct "And why do you stare so steadily at mo?" "Aro you Felix Briarfleld?" I gasped "As you see, "ho answered, raising his eyebrows. "Surely you know nio^ well enough to dispense with so foolish* a question." "And your brother?" "Ho is at Marshminster, I believe, with Miss Bellin, to whom ho is engaged Why do you ask so strango a question?" I sat down on tho sofa and buried my faco in my hands. Either I was ont of my mind or tho victim of some' terrible hallucination. I certainly had met Francis at tho inn and beheld him dead under its roof. As surely had I seen tho man I believed to bo Felix at Marshminster. Yet hero in Paris I beheld an individual who was neither tho dead friend nor tho living lover, and ho called himself Felix Briarfleld. "I must bo mad I I must bo mad 1" was all I could say for tho moment "What is tho matter, Denham?" asko/i P.riiirfinld. touchintr niv shoulder. "Aro you ill?" For answer I seized first ouo hand and then tlio other. On neither appeared tfio least scratch. Yet tho man whom I believed to bo Francis had a ragged wound on tho right hand. My theory of a tranco vanished into thin air at this proof that tho men were distinct. Astounded by my action, Felix drow back in somo alarm. "How strangely you act, Denham!" ho said uneasily. "Is tliero anything wrong?" "Do you think I am mad?" I asked irritably. "Your action just now was scarcely tho act of a sano person. Why did you examine my hands?" "To sco if they werocutdn anyway." Ho turned tho palms of his hands toward mo and shook his head with a slight laugh. "You see," ho said, smiling, "they aro absolutely frco from cut or wound. Why do you expect them to bo marred?" I made 110 reply, but passed my hand across my brow. Tho situation in which I found mvsolf. was so strange and em barrassing tliat I did not kilow how to j proceed. In the presence of facts I could not but admit that my story would sound but a wild invention. "Come, Denham," said Briarfield soothingly. "You nro doubtless in some troublo and havo como to 1110 for help j and advice. I'll givo both to the best of my ability." "I want neither," 1 muttered in a ; low voico, "but if you will answer some questions I wish to ask you will obligo mo greatly." Briarfield drew back with a queer look in his eyes, .'is if ho thought my madness was increasing. However, ho overcamo tho dread my actions apparj ently caused him and answered civilly enough: ) ' 'Certainly, if it will do you any good. What is it you wish to know?" "Wero you in England within tho j last seven days?" "No; I havo not been in England for at least six weeks." "Do you know tho Fen inn?" "Never heard of it in all my lifa " | "Are yon acquainted with a girl named Roso Stront?" "I don't even know her naina " "When did your brother Francis return to England from South America?" "Three months ngo." "Have you seen him since his roturn?" "Frequently in London, but ho is now, I believo, at Marshmiuster." "Do you know ho is engaged to Miss Belliu?" "Of course I do," said Briarfleld. j "The marriage takes placo shortly, and j I am to bo tho best man?that is, if I I return in time. " "What do you mean?" "Well, I'm going to Italy tomorrow," j said tho young man, shrugging his shoulders, "and it is just possiblo that I may prolong my tour to tho east In 1 that case I may bo absent from England for at least six months or mora During that time Francis will doubtless marry Olivia, and I shall not be able to be at the wedding." "You havo not been in England within tho last six weeks. You don't know tho Feu inn nor of tho existenco of Roso Stront," I summed up. "Then I am tho victim of somo extraordinary hallucination." ! "You are very extraordinary altoj gether," retorted Briarfleld. "Now I havo answered your questions, pray answer miua Why do you ask all theso things?" I "It is a strange story and ouo which you will scarcely believe." "Let mo hear it." Thus adjured, I told him tho story of ! my adventure at tho inn, but suppressed all mention of tho belief I then euter| tained that tho brothers had changed ! names. He listened attentively and eyed me with somo concern. At the conclusion of tho narrativo ho considered for a I few moments before making any reply, i "I Jyxrdly know what to say,'' he said ; at length. "Your story is very circumofonfinl vnfr. rnn must havo been do : ceivod by tho chance resemblance." i "I swear that the man I met at the Fen inn was your brother Francis." "How can that bo when Francis was at Bollin Hall, and Olivia said ho had not been out of tho house. Besides, you "I swear that the mini 1 met'at the Fen inn it)(is your brother Francis." i say tho man whom you believed to bo I Francis was murdered, yet you left Francis alivo and well at Marshminster.'' "I thought Francis was you. " "Ah I Deceived by our resemblance, no doubt." . "Yes, I think so," I replied, not wishing to tell him my suspicions. "Well, you seo you made a mistake. ! Francis is at Marshminstcr, and I am here, I suppose,"ho added jokingly. "You aro quite convinced that I am Felix?" "I was quite convinced the other man was Francis." "Great heavens, man, you surely I don't doubt that I am Felix Briarfleld?" ! ho cried irritably, rising to his feet. J "I don'tl I can't!" "Perhaps you thought it was I whom ! you met at tho inn?" "No, becauso the man I met at tho j inn is dead. Besides ho had a wound on his right hand, and you have not." "It's a queer business altogether," : said Briarfleld, walking to and fro. "I ! cannot but agree with your idea of hallucination. " "I tell you it is too real for hallucij nation." "Then how can you explain it?" ho I demanded sharply, passing before me. "I cau't explain it," I replied helplessly. "If you had discovered the corpse 1 when vou returned to the inn, there might bo sorao chance of solving tho mystery. But you admit there was no corpso thero." ! "Not tho vestige of one." j "Then that proves the thing to ho hallucination," he said triumphantly. I "If tho man was murdered, who would tako the troublo to removo tho corpse?" "Strent might have dono so to conceal tho evidenco of his crime." "Ho fled tho previous night by your : own acknowledgment. Tho wliolo thing ' is ridiculous. If I wero you, Denham, I would see a doctor. That brain of yours is in a dangerous state. " "In spite of nil you say, I am certain it was Francis I met at tho inn. " i "How can that be when ho whom ' you met is dead and Francis is alive? It could not bo Francis, and as I have not been out of Paris it could not havo ; been me." ; "Then who was it?" "Somo stranger, no doubt, in whom you saw a facial resemblanco to us." " Impossible 1" "So 1 think," said Briarlielcl signilicantly. "For my part, I think you aro j subject to delusions. Do not pursue this ! caso, my friend, or you may find yourself in a lunatic asylum." "Will you como over to Marshminstor and help mo to solvo tho mystery?" "Certainly not, Denham. My plans J are all made for Italy, and I go thero ' tomorrow. I certainly don't intend to j put them off for such a wild goose chaso ' +/-* itiflnlcrA in " us yuu wish iiiu iw niuwihv. ?... I took up my lint and prepared to go. j Tho matter was beyond my comprehension. "There is nothing for 1110 but to ro' turn to England." "Do," said Briarfleld in n pitying tone, "and give up following this willo'-tho-wisp." "It seems hopeless enough. " "Well, so far as I can see, it seems madness?nothing more nor less. My brother Francis is at Marsh minster. You seo 1110 here, so it is absolutely imI possible you could havo met cither of I us at that inn, tho moro so as tho man ! you met is dead, and wo are both | alive." "Yea Facts nro too strong for 1110," I I said, holding out my hand. "Goodby, BriarfielcL Many thanks for your kindness; but, 0I1, man," I added, with a burst of bitterness, "what does it all mean?" "It's hallucination, " said Briarfleld. "Placo yourself at onco in the hands of a doctor. '' TO UK CONTINr KO NKXT WKKK. MENTAL, MORAL, PHYSICAL. 7 i These are the Kinds of Training | Required. I PRES. BOOTH'S INAIIUURAIj ADDRESS. Wiir on Ignorance?Men anil Women Should l>e Taught to Work? Denominational Schools tlio Hest-Sectarianism is too Narrow?Plat form of the Itaidist High School. Following is I he inaugural address of President A. K. Booth, of the Baptist i High school, delivered before friends, patrons and students, at the opening 1 of that institution on Tuesday of last week : Mr. President, and Ladies and Genj lleinen: I consider this opportunity j given me today both a pleasure and a i privilege ; yet, while I esteem it thus, I feel sensibly the responsibility that rests upon me as the head of this institution. This is a day that is, we hope, long to he remembered. This occasion marks a long step forward in the progress of our community, our denomination, and the cause of educaj lion that we represent. This day the gauntlet of war is ! thrown down. War,did I say?- War in this genial, peaceful and liberty lovI ing community? War at a time when the noise of the cannon has long i since died away, and when we have nothing to remind usof the fierce strugI gle except indeed the ITbavy taxes that we have to hear to keep up the pensions! Yes, war is today declared. We are here to make war against the enemy?ignorance. All over this country ; of ours is drawn up in battle array, 011 one side, the forces of intelligence and truth, with Christ as the leader; and over on the other side we see the marshaled forces of ignorance, superstition ! and falsehood, with Satan as the leader. The soldiers who fight in this { army that we represent, are not men j who fight their battles with guns, and wear armour that glitters in the sunlight. They are the men and women who fight their battles with reading | books, spelling books, the various 1 books of educational literature, and | the Holy Bible. The glow of love is ; in their hearts and the light of truth is I in their eyes. They will win because truth always wins, and because Christ, i who gained the greatest of all victoI ries, is in command. We arc fond of quoting that"Knowlj edge is power;" but I think that we | sometimes forget, or fail to estimate the tremendous and powerful ctfectsof ignorance. Ignorance a power? Yes, a power. Not to save and make alive ; but to put down and destroy. Blind I as a but, yet thinks himself omuicient. Sees danger where there is none ; sus! peels friends and trusts enemies. It lias sent to the stake the best men the i world has ever seen. It was that which prompted the jury in the case of Baxter, as they listened to the judge, ! blinded by ignorance, as the words j fell so heavily from his lips and he said, "Richard, Richard, thou art not permitted to speak for thyself. Thou liast already written enough books to j fill a cartload, each us full of sedition I as an egg is full of meat." The jury i dnnnrt with slow and steady step, and are out hut a moment or two, and return with the slow and steady step as before, and now hear the words full so weightily from the lips of those ignorant men as they say: "Guilty." It sends iiim to the stake. And many more death wails than these ring in our ears through the pages of history on this account. It was ignorance that prompted the ; multitude to cry "Crucify him, crucify him ; give us Burahbas," and caused Sampson to destroy the temple, self and all; and it was that which nailed to the cross the most perfect model the world has ever seen. Ignorance is often ! more terrible when combined with religious virtue. See that poor Hindoo mother, as she comes with so much ; earnestness ami enthusiasm to the : Ganges with her innocent babe in her , arms, and she tosses it over upon the i mad waves, and does it, too, as the very i climax of religious virtue, honestly ignorant! If angels ever weep, it must I he over the works of honkst ii;nor| a ncr. The subject of education is one that j is old and about which a great deal has been written. It. can he divided and subdivided, and each of these dii visions will furnish material for quite ' a lengthy address. Generally speak1 ing, true education consists ol mental, I moral and physical culture. A sound mind in a sound body and a soul fitted for eternity. No one who has not had the three cultivated has been truly educated, and we have only to go hack to history to find the result of such train| ""jr. Greece, with all her ancient glory, Athens tlie city of learning, had only two sides of education. She trained her students mentally and physically, j hut in moral training she was wanting, and hence we point to where the splendid city of Athens stood, and it is a dreary waste. Sparta, the rival of Athens, just across the sea, attended only to the j physical culture. Her hoys were taught to he as a cog in a great wheel? taught to endure nil kinds of hardship and cruelty. While Athens has passed away on account of the training of two of the phases, she has left us the most wonderful masterpieces of classic literature that we have; hut Sparta has only given us a page in history, and that the black record of the most cruel suffering of humanity. Go hack to Babylon, that splendid city whose towers and buildings were the admiration of the world as they towered up among the clouds ; hut she neglected the moral training of her citizens, and a hand appears writing on ! the wall, and this is the writing: "Thou art weighed in the balances and art found wanting." j "Where empires lowered that were not Just, I^itlie skulking fox scratches a little heap ol it list." If we neglect it, can we expect to escape the fate of others? Must we see the handwriting on the wall in the downfall of our government and instilu| lions? This school, my friends, has been established to give this threefold training. , The responsibility that rests upon us is great. An education not sanctified by the religion of Jesus Christ is a positive j curse to a hoy or girl. The cry today | is, "Wanted ; men and women." Those who are such are those who have thus been trained. There are many bright jewels in our country, and they only need refining. The mineralogist goes along and picks up a stone, and his at > ii ..I..,.,. | trillion is aiiruueo i?y a .-muuh <>. I hat stone I lint shines, and lie takes it ami begins to polish it because he realizes that within is a diamond, and lie carries it from one process of refilling i to another, until after awhile it shines i with all the brilliance of a true dinj inond. The boy and girl?a jewel?is | carried through the various processes i of training and relining. Trained men; tally, morally, and physically, and they j will shine in the community ; and after awhile shine with the brilliance ol heaven when the mental and physical have passed away. So many ol our schools neglect the moral training, and many a tear of a I devoted father and mother has been I shed, and many a head has been whitj ened for the grave on account of the neglect of this. I know of 20 boys j that attended such a school, and 1*1 I of these 20 are today wrecks, and 10 girls that attended the same school, have married 10 of these wrecks; ami their sweet iunocent lives blighted for over. Parents, choose carefully tne school for the training of your hoy or girl. They are to take your places, and j while advancement is being made in j ! the various lines of industry, Satan, | with .his cunning and crafty wiles, is : making equal strides of advancement, I There is an idea in our country today, tot), that a hoy or girl must he educated I in order to keep from work, and did j you know thut parents are to blame for this in a great measure? | The father will gather the hoys i I around him, and speaking to one of the . hoys will say, "Well, John, I have had j a hard time in this life. I have worked J j hard on the farm. My hands are all ; horny and rough. It is a hard life and i I want you to have au easier time than J I have hail; so 1 will educate Jyou for a lawyer, or doctor or some one of the i professions." And so the hoy is taught I that he is too good to work and seeks j an education to become a drone, and i J makes, of course, a failure in one of j I the professions. He wishes to educate ; his girls that they may marry some professional man who is also too good to work, and she has au idea that she { is something lit only for the parlor and ! iter 11 it' is masted. A story is told of a young man who 1 was sent oil* to school with this idea, and as he returned after a stay of 10 months, as he neared the home on the j farm, the old yard dog ran out hark- j i ing to welcome him. The hoy called i to his mother and said "Madam, will j | you extricate this canine quadruped j j and prevent him from masticating my j j pedal apendages." [Laughter.] The mother was perfectly delighted and ! said, "() Such a great thing'is educa-' j tion." [Laughter.] Away with such j an idea! We want an education that ; will give us a better farmer, a better j merchant, a better blacksmith, a bet- I ; ter lawyer, etc., and one who is meek i and unassuming. If you place an ! educated farmer in a community he j ' will be the centre of thought for the , i entire community, and this rule ap! plies in all lines of industry. [Apj plause.] There is an other young man that wishes to be a doctor, and afterwards, : because he finds that he does not get i all the practice in the community, tries : law, thinking that he has missed his ! | calling; and because of discouragements in that he quits that, and goes ; on from one to the other and makes a failure of all of them, and then sits j down and weeps over lost hopes and lost opportunities and at last discouraged takes own life and fills the ! grave of a suicide. "(Jive us those with a purpose, The heights by great men reached and kept | Were not attained by sudden flight, ! Hut they while their companions slept, I Were toiling onward in the night." To all observant and thoughtful j people, denominational schools are schools the most successful today from many standpoints. Combining as they do, a sound moral and re % -!iL At- A _ 1 A 1 ! ngious cimure wiui me meiuui, incj i reach Ihe true end of education, toj nether with the physical training. | This is not to be a sectarian school. If ! j it were to be such it would not succeed, i i To teach sectarianism, surrounded us j we are, would be narrow. We propose | to teach the Bible, a common Saviour, j | and we ask you encouragement, your co-operation and your prayers, and when all the things of this earth shall have passed away, the mental and the physical andjevery thing that is earthly, then impressions for eternity shall live on through all the ages of bliss and sparkle, may those who have received it with jewels in their crowns, they themselves gems for His kingdom, and may we, who have had this training in charge, receive the welcome words as they lull from the lips of the Master Himself, "Well done good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joys of tbv Lord." [Enthusiastic applause.] | "THE STAU-SPANGLED" BANNER. ; How Our Famous National Sting Originated. " 1 11 OM. ? I ! uur I anions national song, -inc \ j Star-Spangled Banner," was inspired J I by intense .patriotic feeling, while the i ] author was an unwilling spectator of ' I the hombarnment of Fort McHenry, i I at Baltimore. When the British invaders of Maryland were returning to their vessels in Chesapeake bay, after they had seized and fired the city of Washington, in August, 1814, they carried away with them, as a prisoner, Doctor Beames, a well-known and influential physician of Upper Marlborough, Md. His | friends earnestly pleaded for his re- | lease, but the British admiral, Coch- j rune denied their prayer, and the doe- ; I tor was taken to the flag-ship. At that time Francis Scott Key, an j | eminent lawyer and native of Mary- ! ; land, was district attorney of Washing- ; ton city. Of pleasing deportment and | (juiet suavity of manners, he had much , j influence among men, and the friends of Doctor Beames solicted Key to go, j i under a flag of truce, to Admiral Coch- ! rune's llag-ship, and plead for the pris- j oner's release. He consented, and 1 President Madison give him permission to go. I Accompanied by John S. Skinner, of ; Baltimore, Mr. Key went in the cadet- j | ship Minden, and found the British i fleet in the Chesapeake, near the 1 mouth of the Potomac river. Under j ] cover of a flag, they went on board 1 the admiral's vessel, and very soon ob- j tained the release of their friend ; but i as the British were then preparing to ' attack Fort McHenry and Baltimore, for prudential reasons Key and his \ ; i friends were not allowed to leave the fleet, nor even return to the Minden. 1 They were placed on ooaru me surprise, where they were held as temporary prisoners, but were treated with ! , courtesy. The fleet soon entered the Patapsco i and proceeded to bombard Fort Me- | | Henry. Key and his friends were remanded to the Minden, where she was anchored within sight of the fort, but was closely guarded by a company of ( marines, to prevent any one landing r from her and reporting to the Ameri- j j cans the real object of the fleet. On Tuesday morning, the 13th of j September, the British bomb-vessels ! | opened a heavy fire upon Fort Mc- j Henry, and it was continued, with I brief intermissions, until a while before j the dawn of the morning of the 14th. That night was passed with great anx> ietv by the people of Baltimore, for they dreaded a result unfavorable to ! the assailed. To Mr. Key and his two i friends on board the Minden, it was a ! night of suspense never to be forgoti ten. They watched the bombardment , keenly during the hours of darkness, ! and when it ceased, they were uncer- i i tain whether the fort had surrendered j or not. They awaited the dawn with j great solicitude, and in the dim light j , of the opening morning, they beheld with joy that "our flag was still [ there!" They soon learned that a simultaneous land attack upon Haiti- j : more had failed, and that the Brit- ' j ish were preparing to flee down the ; | bay. At sunrise Key and his friends ' i I were released. It was while pacing the deck of the j Minden, during the'excitement- of the bombardment between midnight and ' | the dawn, that Mr. Key composed the I ; song of "The Star-Spangled Banner," | which opens with the following stanza : j i "Oh, sav, can you see by the dawns earlj ! i light What so proudly we hailed at the twi- j light's last gleaming? 1 Whose broad stripes and bright stars j ( j through the perilous light, , ' o'er the ramparts we watched, were so j gallantly streaming? 1 And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, j Have proof through the night that our 1 Hag was still there! Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave ' I (T I hit litliu ill Mil' mi.III.I III. II...II. ... .. the brave? Mr. Key made a rough draft of the song on the hack of a letter that happened to he in his pocket, and on the night after his arrival in Baltimore he wrote it out in more perfect form. On the following morning he read the production to his uncle, Judge Nicholson, who was one of the heave defenders of the fort, and asked his opinion of it. "It is excellent," said the judge, and with the permission of the author he took it to Benjamin Kdes, a printer, and had a number of copies struck off in a broadside. Kdes was on duty with a Baltimore regiment and one of his apprentices, Samuel Sands, set up the song in type, printed it in a most appropriate and tasteful manner, and distributed it among the citizens. The words of the song?four stanzas?were inclosed in an eliptical border made of the common type ornaments of the day. A little distance from this border, in a line of the same form, were the wonts "Bombardment ot l-ort aieHenry." The letters were sufficiently wide apart to allow a circle of eleven stars to surround each letter. Bcncuth the song, and within the e'lipse, were the words: "Written by F. S. Key, of Georgetown, 1). C." The "Star-Spangled Banner" was first sung in public to the tune of "Anucreou in Heaven," by Charles Duvany, in a restaurant next to the Hollidav Street theater, to a company of the brave defenders of Baltimore; and it was afterwards sung nightly at the theater, and everywhere in public and private places. The enthusiasm created by it was intense, and the boys made city streets vocal with the melody and the words. The "Star-Spangled Banner"?the identical old Hag that waved over Fort Mellenry 80 years ago?is preserved in the family of Colonel Armistead, the gallant commander of the fort. I saw it a few years ago in the posession of his son, in Baltimore. It was pierced with 11 holes made by cannon-balls that passed through it during the bombardment.?Benson J. Bossing, L. L. I). SO-CALLED SHOWERS OF BLOOD. The following is an itemized historical record of the "famous red rains" which have fallen since the beginning of the Christian era. The list is made up from gleanings taken from the works of such well-known authors as Leaury, Khrcnberg, and Humboldt, the principal portion of the record being based on matter taken, from "Kosmos," a famous work from the pen of the author last named above : On November 5 and 0, 472 A. D., a shower of soot.or black dust, "mingled with drops red as blood," fell at Constantinople. Again, in 652 A. D., a shower of red rain, followed by a dust-like deposit of the same sanguine hue, is reported from Constantinople. At Brixen, Austrian Tyrol, in the year 869 (month and day not given), red rain fell for three hours, "until the streets looked like the floor of a slaughter house." In the year 929 red sand, mingled with water of the same color, fell for a space of twenty minutes at Bagdad. In 1056 there was a great full of red snow throughout Armenia. In the year 1110, in the province of Vaspouragan, Armenia, a flaming body fell into Lake Van, "and forthwith the water became tinged as with blood, and so remained for a period of nearly three years." In 1219 or 1222 (there is some un? i <i.A Ul'l UlllllJ ill ii; HIV IKIIVIII, ivtt niin and sand fell in Bohemia, "in such a manner as to coagulate like Mood." On November 5, A. J)., 1548, a fall of lire "fell with a great noise in Tliuringan, followed by a smart shower of reddish substance, much resembling thick blood, and which remained on the ground several days before turning black ; a great pestilence followed." In Pomerania, in 1577, "there fell large flakes of substance resembling pure red blood." On December 24, 15G0, at Lillebonne, France, a meteor fell, followed by red rain. Something similar occurred in Syria in the year 10IS. Tournay, Belgium, hud a red rain in 1638. On January 9, 1643, red rains were reported from two different places, Voehigen and Wensberg, both in Wurtenberg. In 1842 there were two red rains in the United Stated, one in Massachusetts the other.in Tennessee. In the year following one is reported from Laurens, S. C., which turned all the cotton fields a bright red. Origin of China's Flag.?The flag of China is one of the gayest among ensigns. The body of the Hag is a pale yellow. In the upper lefthand corner is a small red sun. Looking intently at the sun is a fierce Chinese dragon. The dragon's belly is a brilliant red and white. His green back is covered with still' knobs. He is standing with his two hind paws and lett lorefoot. His feet are five-toed and slight^ ly hooked. His long, five-forked tail stretches away in the rear. The dragon's neck is arched hack. His mouth is wide open, and he looks as if he were about to try and swallow the red sun. The Japanese Hag has a white body, and in the centre is a large red sun with rays radiating in all directions. About 1,000 years ago, the Chinese made war on Japan, and prepared a grand invasion. To symbolize their anticipated victory, they adopted the Hag of today. They took the sun of Japan and made it small, and put it in front of the dragon's mouth, to express the idea that the Chinese dragon would devour the Japanese. It happened, however, that the Chinese fleet, conveying an army of 100,000 men, was wrecked on its way to Japan by a great storm, and all but three of the 100,000 perished. Despite that unlucky beginning in the use of the Hog the Chinese retained it. Thk Color of Gold.?"Most people suppose," says an assayer, "that all gold is alike when refined, but this is not the case. An experienced man can tell at a glance from what part of the world a gold piece comes, and in some cases from what part of a particular gold district the metal was obtained. "The Australia gold for instance, is distinctly redder than the California, and this difference in color is always perceptible, even when the gold is 1,000 fine. "Again, the gold obtained from the placers is yellower than that which is taken directly from quartz. Why this should be the case is one of the mysteries of metallurgy, for the placer "old comes from the veins. The 1'ral p> gold is the reddest found anywhere. "Few people know the real eolor of gold, as it is seldom seen unless heavily alloyed, which renders it redder than when pure. "The purest coins ever made were the (ifly dollar-pieces that used to he common in California. Their coinage was abandoned for two reasons lirst, because the loss by abrasion was so great, and, secondly, because the interior could be bored out and lead substituted, the difference in weight being too small to be readily noticed in so large a piece. These octagonal coins were the most valuable ever struck." &&P Moss grows thickest on the north siile of bills, and a sun-exposed tree has its largest limbs on the south side. *