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* lewis >r. grist, proprietor, j |ln Jndepcndcnt Tamils glfiuspaper: Joii the promotion of th<t political, Social, ^piciiltuRil and Ofommcrcial Jnteresfs of the jsouth. j TERMS?$2.00 A YEAR IN ADVANCE Vol. 40. yobkville, s. c? Wednesday, October 24, 1894. no. 43. BY FERGU Author of "The Myst Copyright, 1<H, by the Author. CHAPTER XII-Contixukp. % "Did she guess the truth?" "Not at first, but she saw there waf something wrong as she kept referring to events of the previous week aboul which I knew nothing. Luckily Mrs. Bellin did not come down to breakfast, so I was able to tell her all when the servants left the room." "Had she recognized that Felix was masquerading as you?" ' "She had more or less, but was not quito certain. When I told her all thsfc svru->nm>nsl alio KaHoVpd TTIA lit OllOft. UOU UUVIUAVUf DUV VVMVfW. III some instinctive way she knew that I was really her lover. Then we set tc work to concert measures for my safety. Olivia told me Felix was supposed to Ix in Paris at the Hotel des Etrangers and showed me his letters, so it was decided * as wisest to keep up that fiction. She told me all that had taken place during my absence, and by the time you came I was thoroughly fitted into the skin of Felix." "Then I came and insisted you were Felix." "Yes. You see, I told the truth, and so did Olivia, when I said I was Francis. *? But of course, as I bad changed clothes with the dead man, we saw where you were making your mistake. I never thought you'd take my death so much to heart." "Seeing that, Briarfield, you ought to have told me all." "Olivia suggested as much, but I was afraid. When you asked me to ride out and see the inn, I asked for a night's grace in order to get rid of the body. I rode out during the night and threw it into a pool near the inn." "I know that pool," said I grimly, "and traced your trail thereto. " "I am afraid I did it badly," said Francis, with a shudder. ' 'It was a horrible task, yet necessary, as I thought when you saw no body tho next day you would think it was a dream or a hallucination." "I did very nearly," I answered gravely. "And what about Paris?" "Oh, that was very easy! When you said you were going there to look up Felix, I followed you to London by the same train and crossed over to Paris at once. At the Hotel des Etrangers I found Felix had bribed the manager to send on those letters to Olivia. He, of oourse, thought I was Felix and talked quite openly before me. Felix had invented a very ingenious plot to enlist the manager in his service. What it was I need not tell yon, but I told the manager what I wanted, and he did it well. Of course I paid him lavishly." "You mean he deceived me by saying you had been six weeks in Paris?" "Yes, and about my going to Italy. Of course when you saw me you thought I was really Felix, and that you were out of your mind." * "How could I do otherwise when your statements were backed up by the manager? I did not know what to make of it" "Well, that's all I have to tell," said Francis, "and a lot of trouble it has been. I wish I had told you all at first" "What about Bose Gernon?" "Oh, she found me out and made be K lieve I was Felix. She wanted to marry me, as yon saw. I had great trouble with her." "We'll settle her tomorrow," said I grimly. "But, now, Francis, who do yon think killed your brother?" "I can't say. I don't even know how he died." "He died," said I, "from a wound ? in the hand inflicted by a poisoned arrowhead which was taken from Bellin Hall" "And who wounded him?" demanded Francis, turning pale. "We'll find that out tomorrow,"! answered, "from Rose Streut, alias Rose Gernon." CHAPTER XIIL ~ ' After all, it is true that the unexpected always happens. In my unraveling of the Fen inn mystery I never for a moment expected to find that Francis was alive. I was even ignorant that Felix had been to the inn on that night. He had ridden round the back way of the house, and as my room was over the front door I had not heard his arrival. Under these circumstances it ^ was easy for me to make the mistake and think the dead man was Francis, particularly as I was misled by the marvelous resemblance between the brothers, and, moreover, saw the pearl ring on the finger of the corpse. My mistake was a perfectly excusable one, and I had been confirmed in such erreonous belief by the adroit fashion in which Francis, for his own safety, kept up the deception. Now I knew the truth?that Francis was alive and Felix dead?yet as regards the name of the man who had committed the crime I was still quite in the dark. Rose Gernon knew, but it was questionable whether she would confess, even to save her own skin. Either she or Streut was the guilty person, as none other was in the inn at that tirna Streut had vanished, but no doubt she knew his whereabouts. The question was whether she would tell. "Oh, she'll tell whero he is, right enough," said Merrick, to whom I put this view of the matter, "especially if she is guilty herself." "You don't think she is the criminal, Merrick?" There i<j no reason whv she should ? not be," bo replied argumentative!}*. "She had every reason to hate Felix ft Briarfield. Ho had promised to many ft her and was engaged to Olivia. Quite W enough reason there for a jealous worn* an such as sho seems to be." "But she wanted Felix to kill his brother, so that sho might force him to marry her." "Yes, but that littlo arrangement did not come off. My idea is that she saw Felix when he arrived at tho inn and asked him straight out if he had arranged to marry Olivia* She would hear of the engagement while passing through Marshminster on her way tc the lone inn. No doubt Felix lied about the matter, and she lost her temper. It may be that sho did not intend to kill him, but having tho poisoned arrowhead in her hand had forgot how dangerous it was and threw herself on him. lit put out his hand to keep her off, and so was wounded. Then he died, and, terrified at what the consequences might be, she and Streut left the inn. "But what about her blackmailing Franois?" "She guessed whac Francis had dont "? and saw a chance of securing her aims by putting the murder on to him. Ht had so compromised himself by his foolish actions that of course he was afraid to denounce her." "Still, why did she want to marrj him? She loved Felix, not Francis." "It's my opinion she loved neither ot them," said Merrick dryly, "and simp]} X.ji x >> Wallien IU LllixiIjr iui lUBpvviouui\,j. "Do you think she will denounre Strent?" "She'll denounce anv ono to save her self." "Won't you come and hear her ccn fession, Merrick?" "Not L A respectable practitionei V, like myself has no business to bo mixec up in such criminality. Hitherto I hav< been the sleeping partner in this affair, and you have carried through my idea; excellently well. Continue to do so anc then come and tell me all about it" "Very nleasant for you," I gruru mm inn. S W. HTJIMIE, ery of a Hansom Cal)." blod, "bat I have all the hard work." Merrick laaghed and poshed me oat j i of the door. He had a dozeu patients ; waiting and conld spare 110 nioro time. ; i He said ono last word before I left. "Oh, by the way, Denham," said he, lifting a warning forefinger, "don't i yoa trost that Rose Gernou in the least I've been making inquiries about her, i and she has a black record?about the worst in Loudon, I should say." ; | On my way to Jerrnyn street I won; ! dered how he had gained this informai tion. A specialist of Merrick's stand; j ing does not go round making inquiries ? about loose characters. Yet I knew he spoke the truth. His faculty for learui ing things was marvelous. Decidedly, [ Merrick should have been a detective 1 His opinion about Rase Gernon coincid i ed with mino. One had only to look in [ her face to see what she was. i At Jermyn street I found Francis ' j eagerly waiting my arrival. "I've sent down to the Marshmiuster i police," said ho quickly, "andinstructed them to drag the pool uoar the Fen i inn." I "I am afraid you'll get into troui ble over that, Briarfield." | "I don't care," said Francis dogged; ly. "I have been a coward too long, j Had I trusted you and told all there would not have been this trouble. If the police arrest me, thoy can just do i so, and I'll leave it to you to see me | through." l "1 hope we'll learn the truth from Rose today." 4 'It's possible, but not probable. She'll I lie like the devil, whose daughter she j is." "I'm not too sure of that If she is ; guiltless, she'll be only too anxious too save her own neck. Why should she i risk her liberty for the sake of this man i Strent? Who it he?" I "I l^aveu't the least idea " "Then we'll make Rose tell today or have her arrested " "There is not sufficient evidence ! against her," objected Francis. "Yes there is. I'll take the risk of all I Dacg rinimnn loot'oc fhifi IUiOU UC1U10 JL%VCU V4V4UVU ?VM ? v? room she has to confess the truth. It's ; your only chance of safety." "But you don't believe I killed Felix?" "I don't, but the police may. You 1 forget how highly suspicious all your actions have been. Rose knows vou have been passing as your brother and will be sure to make capital out of it" "You'll see me through, Denham?" he said, taking my hand i "You can be sure of that," I answered, shaking it heartily. "I won't rest till you aro safe and the murderer of your brother is in jaiL " "Who killed him, do you think?" "I don't know, but Rose does, and we'll make her telL " We discussed the matter extensively, but neither of us could come to any conclusion. When the clock struck I noon, Rose Geruou, true to her appointment, walked into the room. Without 1 | waiting for an invitation she sat down [ in a chair and scowled at me. ( "That man of yours is outside, " she j said savagely. "He's been following me about everywhere and watching my house, all night. Perhaps you'll ask : him to go away." "That depends on the result of this conversation. You're not out of danger yet, Miss. Geruou." "I am not aware that I was ever in J danger, Mr. Denham. Are you going I to accuse me of killing Felix?" "I might even do that unless yon tell the truth." "Oh!" said she with a sneer, "is that your game, sir? Then suppose I do tell the truth and say you killed Felix?" "You're quite capable of doing so, but no ouo would believe so wild a tale. I had no reason to kill Felix Briarfield." "Then what motive had I for so doing?" "That's best known to yourself," I answered tartly, weary of all this fenc MJg. "It is waste of time talking like this," interrupted Francis. "You must , I bo aware, Miss Gernou, that you stand in a very dangerous position." "Not more so than you do yourself," she replied, with superb insolence. "Pardon me, I think otherwise. By your own confession you went down to j tho Fen inn to assist my brother in getting ine out of the way. You said that last night before two witnesses?Miss Bcllin and Mr. Denham." "I talked at random," she muttered. "I did not intend that any crime should be committed." "Perhaps not Nevertheless my brothj er is dead, and you know how ho died." "I know the causo of his death, but I do not know who killed him." ( "If you know one thing, you must ! know the other." "I do not. When Felix arrived, ho ) showed Strent and I an arrowhead f which ho said was poisoned." "Is this tho arrowhead?" I asked, producing it out of a thick piece of pa, per. "Yes. Where did you get it?" ; "I found it in the ashes of tho fire; place, whero you threw it." > "That is not true," said Miss Gernon I angrily. "I did not throw it into the I fireplace. I never even had it in my | hand. Tho idea that it was poisoned frightened me." "Pray go on with your story. Miss . j Gernou." "I seo you don't believe me,"she , flashed out defiantly, "but I am telling j exactly what took place. Felix said ho was going to kill his brother with the ; poisoned arrowhead. I told him I would , have nono of that sort of thing; that I only consented to play the part of a waiting maid in order to deceive his brother into a meeting. I said Francis could marry Miss Bcllin, and he was to marry me.'' "And after that?" . "He jeered and said he intended to , marry Miss Bellin. Then I grew angry ; and struck him." ; She was in real earnest, for her mouth [ was set, and her hands were clinched, [ not a pretty sight by any means. I rei membered Merrick's idea and conceived , that it might be possible the woman 1 beforo me had killed the man who flouted her?not intentionally, but in a fit ; of blind rage. j "You struck him with tho arrow' head?"'1 hinted. "No, I didn't. He had laid that 3 down 011 the table. I struck him with 1 open palm and said if he killed his 3 brother I would denounce him to the authorities as a murderer. Then he I would go to the scaffold instead of the altar with Miss Bellin." "What did ho say?" "Nothing at first. Then I saw a look pass between him and Strent, and r they seemed to understand one another Felix said he would return to Marsh3 minster and let his brother marry Miss Bellin. I did not then know ho had been passing himself off as you, "she added, turning to Francis. "If I had, I would have guessed that lie was lying. As it was, I thought he spoke tho r truth and kissed him. Then I went to I ' bed.'' 3 "And afterward?" said Francis, see> iug she paused. i "Well, I never saw Felix again till 1 ho was dead." "In tho morning?" "No. An hour after I left him. | Strent knocked at my bedroom door ! 1 and asked me to come down. I guessed by his voice he was afraid, so dressed hurriedly and came down stairs. Felix was lying dead by the table. I could not see Strent and | I went to look for him. He was out at the back door mounting Francis' horse. I I asked him where he was going, and J he said Felix was dead, and he did not want to stay in order to be accused of the crime." "Did ho say he had killed him?" "No, nor had I time to ask him. He went off at a gallop and left mo alone with the body. I was horribly afraid, nu T thnncr'nt you or Francis would wake up and accuso me of the crime. ; Besides I could not account for my pres- i euce in that house without suspicion, , so I put on my hat and cloak and fled > to Marshmiaster. " j , "How did you fly?" ' 'There were a trap and horse in which Streut and I htvi brought provisions to the inn. I harnessed the horse and drove back to Marshminster. There I returned it to the owners and went back | to London by the early train." "What became of Streut?" , ! "I don't know. I have never set eyes . i on him since." "Do you think lie killod Felix?" I "Yes. I believe they had a row, and . he killed him. But he did not admit ! it-" Francis and I looked at one another, j i The whole business was so queer as to : i be hardly believable. Nevertheless we saw Rose Geruon had told the truth. j ' ! "What made you come tome?" asked j , Francis. "I thought you had escaped from the \ Ian and wished to ask you what had be- j i I Felix was lying deud by the table. j j come of your brother's body. Then I j saw you wore tho clothes of Felix and guessed tho whole game." j i j "Particularly as you listened to my I | theory at tho Feu inn," said I. "Yes," she answered quickly. "It ; was your conversation which put tho j i idea into my head. I saw that Felix had passed himself off as Francis, and J afterward Francis acted the part of Fe1 lix." "You wished to marry me?" said Francis, whereat Rose laughed. "No. I tried that gamo on to get tho whole truth out of you. I wished you to admit you were Felix, for ho had promised to marry me. However, you j i ; did not fall into the trap. And now," 6he added, standing up, "I have told i i you all. May I go?" I consulted Francis with a look. He t ' | consented mutely. "Yes," I said, also rising, "you | i i may go, but my detective will still j watch you." j "For how long?" "Till Strent is found." j "You think I know," she said, toss- j I ing lier head. "You tiro wrong. Till I | met Strent at Marshminster I never i j saw him before, nor do I know whero j i ho now is. Tako off your bloodhound." j "When Strent is found," I persisted, "not till then." Sho looked wrathfully at mo and ! rushed out of the room. CHAPTER XIV. We were no nearer tho truth than j before. Rose Geruou had told us noth- 1 ! ing new, comparatively speaking. Cer; tainly sho declared herself to bo innocent of the crime and accused Strent, j but if we found Strent ho might declare himself innocent and accnso her. Uue or tho other of them must necessarily 1 be guilty, as they alone had seen Felix ! 1 on that fatal night. Rose was being j' ! closely watched by a detective, so that j wo could obtain her evidence at any moment. It now remained for us to find I Streut and hear his story. Francis be- j lieved Streut had killed his brother. I i had my doubts, as I could sec no motive ! | for his committing tho crime, where- j j as Rose, in a fit of blind anger, might j 1 have done so. Merrick's theory as to her j | guilt was more in accordance with my j belief. i Hitherto we kept the case from being ; meddled with by the police, but now j they began to handle the matter. In; formed by Francis as to the whereu! bouts of the body, they dragged the j pool near tho Fen inn and recovered the corpse of the unhappy young man. ! Then the inspector wrote a peremptory i 1 I letter to Francis, requesting him to ! come down and attend the inquest. | There was a note of suspicion in the letter, and Francis could not very well ! : | help obeying the summons. Ho requested me to come with him, | which I had every intention of doing, j 1 Wo settled tho time of our departure and before going saw Olivia and Dr. Merrick. Mrs. Belliu had not been in- | formed of the death of Felix, nor did she suspect that anything wrong was | going on under her very nose. Thanks to the wonderful resemblance between the twins, she accepted Felix as Francis 1 1 . and Francis as himself without the slightest suspicion. At first she had obi jected to the engagement, but afterward, ' learning that Brairficld possessed a good j income, consented. Tobesuro.showould ' have been better pleased had Olivia j married a title, but as her daughter declared she would marry no one but Francis Mrs. Belliu gave way with a 1 ! good grace. As to Olivia, she was terribly dismayed when she heard Francis was going to Marshmiuster, and sho dreaded lest he . should be accused of his brother's murder. Tho actions of Francis had been j so very peculiar that I was afraid to tell I them to the inspector lest ho should think tho young man guilty. At tho same time it was impossible to keep 1 them secret, as Francis had thrown tho body of his brother into the pool and would have to explain to the inspector how it got there. Our only chance of proving him to be innocent lay in fiudi ing Streut, and where he was to be disl covered nono of us knew. Merrick's 1 clever brain discovered a clew to the destination or tno iugmve. "Did you ride to the Fen inn from Marshminster?'' he asked Francis. "No. Had I come by train to Marshminster I would have gone to Belliu Hall, where my brother was staying, : and seen him before Olivia. " "It's a pity you did not go there," , said Merrick thoughtfully. "All this ! trouble might have then been avoided, j Well, how did you get to the Fen inn?" "I took the train from London to ~ ? iU 1 I staroy, niroa a iiorsu mere auu iuuu vu the Feu inn." | "How far is it from Starby to tlu Fen inn?" "About 12 miles." "And from tho Fen inn to Marshmiu" ster?" "Ten miles." "Mucli about a muchness," said Mer- 1 rick. "Did you tell Strent you had rid| den from Starby?" "Yes. I had no reason to conceal my j movements." "Quito so. Well, according to Rose j Gernon, it was your horse St rent took I i to escape?" "It was. I wonder he did not take ! the horse of Felix." "For a very simple reason. He knew ' I when tho alarm was given that you I I and Denham would go to Marshmiu- I Bter. Therefore, to hide his traii the better, ho went back with your horse to Starby." "Do you think so?" "I am sure of it. Go to the livery stable at Starby where you hired your horse, and I am certain yen will find it there, rostored by Strent." "Well,"said I, in nowise satisfied, "suppose wo trace him to Starby. That will be of no use. No doubt he took the train there for Loudon." "Very probably," said Merrick coolly, "and waited there for Rose Gernou." "But she has not scon him sinco he fled from tho inn." "So she says, but it is not true, for all that. When he killed Felix, and tho evidence seeins to point to him as the murderer, he told Rose to take tho gig and go to Marshminster. Then he rodo off to Starby aud rejoined her in Loudon." "Bnt why should she conceal his movements?" "Becauso ho knows too much about the crime," said Merrick decisively. "Either she did it herself sind is afraid of his speaking, or ho did it, and she wishes to screen hiiu." "Why should she wish to screen a man who killed her lover?" "I can't answer all questions," said Merrick irritably, finding himself at a loss. "All this is pure theory, but I think it is so. I am certain thero is an understanding between Roso and Streut. If that detectivo watching Rose only know Strent, I am certain he would catch him paying her a visit." "Why not give tho detective a picture of tho man?" suggested Francis. "Why not indeed?" I retorted derisively. "Becauso we haven't got a picturo." "I have one at my rooms," said Francis. "Where did you get it?" "I drew it whilo waiting for Felix at the Fen inn. You know, Dcnham, I have somo skill in catching expressions and watching faces. Tho fellow struck me as such a smug scoundrel that I penciled a caricature of liini while he moved about the dining room. It is not n photograph certainly. Still I think it is sufficiently like him." "Capital," said the doctor, rubbing bis hands. "It's a good thing you employed your leisure in that way, Mr. Briarfield. It may do you a great service." "You think I am in danger?" "I think you stand in a perilous position, '' replied the doctor gravely. '4 Your very efforts to preserve your secret and baffie Denham will score against you with the police. And you must tell them all, seeing you know where the body was to be found.'' "I'll tell them all and do tho best I can,1' said Francis, turning pale, "but Rose can prove I was never out of my room." "No, she can't. Rose went to bed, and for aught she knows you might have come down and quarreled with your brother afterward. Your only ohance, Mr. Briarfield, of proving your innocence is to find Strent If you give that portrait to the detective watching Rose Gernon, I believe you'll lay hands on him, but it's a mere chance." "There is another means of identification," said I. "Strent is lame, so if a lame man calls on Miss Gernon my detective, aided by the picture, will know it is Strent." "Well, go and try my plan," said Merrick, shaking Francis by tho hand. "I hope for your sake, Mr. Briarfield, it will be successful." When we left the doctor, Francis looked pale and upset He was just beginning to realize tho predicament in which he stood. I was afraid myself that when all was known he would be arrested. His own actions looked black, though I knew they were done out of pure foolishness. Had ho only trusted me at the time, all the trouble would have been averted. As it was, I determined to stand by him to the end. "Cheer up, Briarfield," said I, clapping him on his back. "If Merrick and I solved so much of the mystery, you * Ml ?1 3 i. iU? > > may uo suru wt* 11 niiu uui iuu icou "It's tlio uewpapcrs I'm thinking of," ho said ruefully. "If all this foolishness gets into the press, Mrs. Bellin will never let me marry Olivia." "I don't think Mrs. Bellin will have much say in the matter," I answered dryly. "Olivia is not tho kind of woman to givo up her lover so easily, particularly when she knows tho truth. She'll stick to you, as I intend to do. As to the press, you forget that tho inquest is at Marshmiuster, which only possesses a weekly paper. I know the oditor and can keep all detuilsout of it. Cheer up.'' "Thank you, Denhaui," said tho poor fellow gratefully. "You are the best friend I have.'' "Faith, you didn't think so at Paris, Briarfield. I've no doubt that there you cursed mo by all your gods for a meddlesome fool." At this he laughed and began to pick up his spirits. We saw the detective who was watching Roso Gernou and gave him the picture drawn by Francis, with a full description of tho man he wanted. Especially did wo lay Btress on the lameness, and in tho end our detective promised that he would Hail any man answering to our description. I gave him my address at Marshmiuster and told him to wire when he found out the whereabouts of Strent. I also told him to wire to Merrick, as the doctor was anxious to know if his theory would prove correct. Next day we went down to Marshminster. By permission Francis staid with me at Aunt Jane's house, and [earning that ho was in trouble the two Did ladies made much of him. Wo saw tho inspector of police, who was a friend of mine, and learned that tho body of Felix Briarfield was at tho morgue of Marshminster. Tho inquest was to bo held next morning, and all orroiHtnninnta linrl 1 OP1I \Vhf?Il the inspector had supplied us with this information, wo sat down and told him tho wholo story as has been hero set forth. Ho listened with much astonishment and expressed himself to that end. "I never read a novel to touch this," he said, staring at Francis. "Truth is stranger than fiction, after all. You greatly resemble your unhappy brother, Mr. Briar field." "Is the body much decomposed?" ask ed I, seeing that Francis remained silent. "It's recognizable only, " replied tho inspector. "You acted very foolishly in this matter, both of you. Why did you not come and tell me about it all at once?" "I was afraid of being accused of killing my brother," said Francis faintly. "You've made it ten times worse now," said the inspector dryly. "Had you wished to damn yourself, you could not have gone to work in a more pigheaded fashion." "Aro you going to arrest me?" "Nn There i* lint sufficient evidence against you. Besides I quite believe your story. Still,'' added he, with some hesitation, "you have to faco the coroner tomorrow. He may not believe you so easily as I." "What do you think is best to bo done?" I asked dismally. "Well, judging from what you have told me, I should think the best thing would be to find Strcnt," said the inspector. "Ho is the only man to solve the mystery. Failing him, you'd better get Rose Gernon down. Her evidence may go to prove that Mr. Briarfield was in bed at tho time Felix was in tho house." "I'll wire for her to come down at once," I said, jump::';: ri. "It will bo as well. I'll send a man over to Starby and find out if Strent delivered tho horse to tho livery stable keeper. I wish to heaven, Denhain," I said the inspector, raging at nie, "that I I yon had told me all about this at first. " ' I "I acted for the best." j "I've no doubt you did," he replied ; ill temperedly, "but I hate your ania- ! tenr detectives. They simply muddle things. I'd have straightened out this coil long ago had I taken it in hand." "I have my doubts of that," said I dryly and went off to the telegraph ofI fice. There I sent a telegram to Rose I Geruon asking her to como down by the early train next morning and also informed the detective that I wished i her to coma I knew quite well she would not dare to refuse, and, inorei over, that my detectivo would send a j j man to watch her, while he waited round her house for the possible ap! Dearance of Strent. j j When I got back to the inspector's [ room, I found that his ill temper had vanished, and ho was doing his best to | console Francis. j "I've seen a man in a worse plight I than is yours, Mr. Briarfield," he was saying when I entered, "and yet ho j came out all right in tho end. The cause of his predicament was similar." j "What's that?" said Francis, looking ! np. 1 "Lack of moral courage. Had you told Denham at tho time and then both j j of you had told me, wo might liavo laid j our hands on Rose Qernou and Strent. j As it was, you gave them timo to make j up their plans and get away. " "Rose hasn't got away," said I grim* ly. "She's safo enough and will bo here ! tomorrow." "I wish we could say the same about Btrent," said the inspector. . "Do you think he is guilty?" asked Francis. "Upon my word, sir, after all my ex- j perienco of the law, I am afraid to say > who is guilty and who isn't. That thej ory of Dr. Merrick's regarding Rose Gernon is feasible enough. She certainj ly seems to have had more motive for killing your brother than had Strent." "It's my opinion," said 1, "mat mere i is a relationship between Strent and : Rosa In such relationship lies the 66- i cret of the crime and her silence." "Humph! There's something in j that," said the inspector. "They might ! bo man and wife." "Or brother and sister," suggested ! I Francis. I . "Or even lovers," 1 said, nodding my head. "Jealousy on the part of j Strent might have spurred him on to I killing Felix." These, however, were all theories, ! and we parted for the night without j coming to any decision as to who was the guilty party. In the morning I received a telegram from Merrick and I We $aw tiic detective and yave htm the vlcturc drawn by Prune Is. went off with it at onco to the inspector. It ran thus: | "Have secured Strent. Am bringing him down with Rose. Arrive at noon. , Hold over inquest if possible." "By Jove, 6ir, "said the inspector, j "that man is lost as a doctor.' Ho ought j ! to lao a detective." I CHAPTER XV. J "You seo I was right," said Merrick , when I met him at the station. "You luivo been right in every in- j stance," I answered. "The inspector j here quite agrees with me that you j ! should be a detectiva Where are your j prisoners?" "No, uol Not prisoners," replied j j Merrick, shocked at tho word. "They | are my guests, traveling companions? j what you will, but not prisoners." "Still I see my dotectivo attends on j | them both," said I as Strent and Rose i Gernon camo along tho platform. "It is well to take all precautious, j How is Francis Briarfield?" "Rather downcast. Ho is afraid of ! being arrested for tho murder. " "No fear of that," answered Merrick, | i casting a glance at Strent. "This gen- \ j tlemau's evidence will exonerate him i fully." I Strent, smooth and unctuous as ever, i rubbed his hands and bowed, but Rose J I Gernon turned her back on liim with a j i gesture of disgust. Evidently she had not forgiven his hurried departure from ! the inn. I "What are we waiting for?" she said sharply. "Let us go 011 to the inquest, i I wish to get it over as soon as possible and return to town.'' Wo took the hint and walked along ! to a room adjoining tho morgue, where ! the inquest was being held. I introi duced Merrick to tho inspector, and | after a short conversation they went ' into tho morgue to examine the body. I Not caring to see so ghastly a sight, I j remained outside with Francis. In a 1 quarter of an hour the doctor and the 1 inspector returned, tho former rubbing : his hands with a well pleased expression, tho latter looking somewhat as- I j tonished. What had passed in tho morguo I know not, as Merrick refused i to gratify my curiosity. I "Wait till you hear tho evidence of j i Strent," he said significantly. The jury was made up of well to do ? Marshminster tradesmen, who took a ' profound interest in the proceedings, as : 1 tho dead man was tho brother of Miss Bellin's future husband Tho Bellins I wero tho great people of tho neighbor- j i hood, and the tradesmen hopeii to serve j the hall when Mr. and Mrs. llrairfield , settled there. They were, therefore, ex cessively polite to Francis, but their : frequent marks of attention only drew ! from him a bitter smile. | "Would they treat mo in this way if 1 j they knew all?" ho whispered to me. | "They will never know all," I answered in the same tone. I had spoken to the inspector, and ho | in his turn had talked seriously with j j the coroner. The latter had been told I the whole story, and though astonished | at the folly of Francis yet found it in his heart to be sorry for the young man. i Ho said ho would not question Francis : ; more than was necessary, and we hoped j to carry through the inquest without I j exposing the underlying romance. ! Tho first witness called was a local j doctor, who deposed to having exam in- j ed the body of Felix. He gave it as his j opinion that the young man had died of ; poison and explained the state of tho ; blood with a lot of medical technicalities which none of the jury understood. It j was, said the doctor, a caso of blood j ' poisoning, and the deceased had been j wounded in tho hand by some sharp in- I strument which was steeped in poison. | ) I came next and narrated how I had j staid at the Fen inn on that night and j ' had met there Francis Briarfield, who | was waiting there for his brother. Then ; I told of tbo discovery of the corpse and tho finding of the arrowhead in the fireplace. I said nothing about my tracking tho trail to the pool, and if possible wo wished that portion of tho evidence to bo passed over in silence. Fortunately ' tho jury wero a dull headed lot and submitted quietly to the guidanco of ; tho coroner. Ho only asked questions j pertinent to tho death without going I too deeply into tho subject. At this I point I produced the arrowhead. Francis explained that he had arriv- I ed from Chile on the Gth of .Tuno aud : had gone at once to the Fen inn at the i request of his brother Felix. His broth- I er had not arrived on that night, and j | ho had gone to bed. Ho was unable to j < say how his brother had como to his tragic end. Then came the critical point which wo wished passed over in I silence. : ; "Did you see your brother at the Fen ! inn, Mr. Briarfield?" asked the coroner. < "I did not seo my brother alive," was " the evasive answer. < "Perhaps the body had been put in ' tho pool by tho murderer," said one of ! 1 tho jurymen, "in which caso Mr. Briar- . ' field would not see him." ' "I did not go to the pool on that night," replied Francis, adroitly evad- j J . i 1- lit, 1-i. lU.i T 1 mg mo rumuTK. it was iuier uu uiut x learned my brother's body was there and 1 at once gave instructions that the pool 1 was to be dragged." j At this point Mr. Briarfield was ask- ' ed to stand down, and the inspector's ' evidence was taken. He deposed to the 3 fact that Mr. Briarfield had instructed him to drag the pool for the body, and j 3 that it was found there. This piece of evidence quite put the i 3 jury off the scent, as, if Francis had pla?ed the body in tho pool, he would i 1 not havo told the inspector where to | 1 find it The critical point was thus glided gently over, and the coroner call- ' ed Rose Gernon. Once the jury knew j how the crime had been committed, and i , they would forget all about the hiding of tho body in tho pool, so that the folly , of Francis would not be made public. I must say that Rose Gernon gave her evidence very clearly. She said she I j was an intimate friend of Felix Briar- ] field, a statement which rather shocked ! the moral tradesmen of Marshminster. Felix asked her to go down to the inn, as he had prepared it for his brother | and wished to see him there about a | , family matter. "But the inn was a ruin," interrupt- j ed a juryman. Miss Gernon said that was very true. Still it was habitablo, and Mr. Felix Briarfield had sent on fuel and provisions. As tho former pro- I prietor had left all tho furniture, the , rooms were fairly comfortable. She could not say why Felix did all this unless it was that he wanted to see his j brother privately. Such talk was very weak, and the j jurymen looked significantly at one another. They knew the Fen inn and ! could not conceive that any one could bo I so mad as to dwell in it even for a night, j It was said to bo haunted, and, though ' such a superstition might be scoffed at, yet not one of those present would have passed 12 hours of darkness in that ill I omened place. "Were you not afraid when you saw j the lone inn," asked a juryman. Rose shruL'cred her shoulders and j laughed contemptuously. "I am afraid of nothing, " she said coolly. "Thero are no such things as ghosts. Besides I had my brother with me." "Your brother!" "Yes, Edward Strent." Tho inspector gave a low whistle, and catching my eye nodded significant- j ly. Ho remembered what I had said on the previous night, and now agreed ' ' with my theory that tho secret of the committal of tho crime lay in the relationship existing between Roso and Strent. They were, it appeared, brother and sister. I saw all kinds of possibilities now that such a tie was made clear. Meanwhile Rose proceeded with her evidence. "Mr. Felix Brairfield came to the inn," she said, "after his brother had gono to rest I saw and spoke with him and afterward went to bed myself, i 1 , understood that ho was going to stay all night and see his brother in the morning." "Was he alone in the room when you left him?" "No. Ho was with Strent An hour 1 or so after I retired Strent came to my door and asked me to go down stairs. 1 1 did so and found Felix lying dead on the < floor. My brother had left tho room, ; ] and on going out at the back of tho house I found him mounting the horse ! of Mr. Francis Briarfield. I asked him I 1 what had happened, and ho just said j 1 Felix was dead and advised me to fly ; lest I should be accused of the murder. " ! 1 "That, I suppose, was also tho reason i ' of his flight?" j < "So ho told mo when I saw him in i ' London, but ho then declared' himself iunocent of tho crime. I was afraid 1 j ' would bo accused of the crime, so took < tho horse and gig in which we had ! j como to tho Feu inn and drovo to ! < Marshminster. From there I returnod j I to London." < "Why did you not givo tho alarm?" i < "I was afraid of being accused of the murder." < Here the inspector whispered somo- [ thing in the ear of tho coroner. He i nodded and .again spoke to Roso Gernou. j i "Why did you not tell Mr. Denham j < where to find Strent when ho was ap- l parently guilty?" "Strent is my brother," said Rose j ' quietly, "and as he told mo ho was in- i uocent I did not wish him to he arrest- i ed for the crime. But that ho visited ] mo yesterday and was seen by the men j i set to watch mo he would never have : been caught." Her examination lasted somo considerablo time, but tho coroner did not , succeed in eliciting anything new from , her. She persistently held to tho same j story, so in despair tho examiner do- , sisted, and sho was told to stand down, i In her place Edward Strent was called, i and then for 1110 began tho most inter- j esting part of tho case. I knew ull that . had been said hitherto, but I did not | know how tho crime had been commit- j ] ted and waited to hear what Strent had i to say. I quite believed him to be guilty, , yet hardly thought ho would uccuse | , himself of tho crime. Ho first corroborated tho story of Rose I , as to going to tho inn and narrated all : that had occurred up to tho timo when j ho was left alone in tho room with Fe- I lix. j "When I found myself alono with i , Briarfield," ho proceeded, "I had a j quarrel with him." "About what?" "About my sister. He had promised 1 to marry her, yet, as I well knew, was j paying attentions to Miss Bellin." "But Miss Bellin was engaged to his brother," remarked a juryman. "I know that. It was about Miss Bel- i Ua tinoliml + r\ L'on liia lvrnfhnr T ill- I Alia J1U u it-lilVU IU DVU 41AU ? sisted that lio should marry my sister, aud ho refused. Wo had hot words. He was 011 ono sido of tlio table, I on the other. Between us lay tlio arrowhead which lie had brought in his pocket. " "Why had ho brought tlio arrowhead there?" "I don't know," replied Strent, ly- ; ing with tho utmost promptitude. "Ho | took tho arrowhead out of his pocket, 1 said it was poisoned aud laid it down j on tho table." "Do you think ho intended to kill his brother because ho stood in liis way with Miss Belliu?" asked an inquisitive juryman of a romantic turn of mind. j "I really don't know, sir,"replied I Strent, looking tlio juryman straight in the faco. "He said nothing to me. We j wero quarreling over the shabby way in which ho had treated my sister, and tho arrowhead was on tho table between > us." "What was tho position of the arrowhead?" asked tho coroner prompted by Merrick. "It was leaning against a book which ! was on the table, and the point was up- 1 permost. I said to Mr. Briarfield, 'Will I you marry my sister?'and lie said: 'No. I'm if I will.' While saying this 1 ho brought down the open palm of his ! hand on tho arrowhead and gavo a cry of pain. When ho lifted his hand, it had a ragged wound across it from the thumb to the little finger. I wished to riud ifc upk bat he pushed mo away, | (] Tying out he was a dead man. In three j ? niuutes he was lying dead on tho floor. ! (j [ threw the arrowhead into the fire- v )laco and tried to revive him, but it ^ Yas of no use. He was dead. " e "And you?" j, "I was afraid I would be accused of ;he death, as Mr. Denham or Mr. Fran- u :ifl might have heard us quarreling to- v jether. I lost my head altogether and n >nly thought of flight. I ran up to my , ^ lister's room and told her Felix was j lead. Then I saddled tho horse. When I J? iho came to the door, I was mounting, j g [ told her to take tho gig and fly to Marshmiuster, and that I would explain ill in London." "You fled like a coward. " "I suppose I did," said the man sullenly, "but I was beside myself with terror. I rode to Starby and gave the | J norso back to the livery stable keeper. 1 T want fA Trtn^An ntirl cnur mr X UCU X IT CUV IV uvuuuu wiiv* umvt **-*J f sister. She agreed with me that it was 1 best to keep quiet, so I did not come j P forward to give evidence. Had it not been for that detective who watched v my sister, I should not be here now." j This evidenco practically ended the inquest Merrick was called to prove u that the wound in the hand was such a n one as might have been made by the J downward stroke of the hand on a Bharp . ' point This evidence was substantiated a by the local practitioner, who had ex- \ \ amined tho body with Dr. Merrick. : There was no doubt that the affair had a happened as Streut said. Felix Briar- i field had slapped his open hand on the table to omphasize his refusal to marry " Rose Gernon. Unfortunately it came in 1 contact with tho poisoned arrowhead. The flint had an edge like a razor, and being steeped in virulent poison acted M like a snake bite on the unfortunate tj young man. Felix had not been mur- u dered, but died by misadventure. That was the verdict brought in by '1 the jury, and so the whole of this strange v affair came to an end. Thanks to tho t astuteness of tho inspector and the delicacy of the coroner, the jury wero ' t quite unaware of what had happened ? between the death of Felix and the in- \ quest. Tho reporters of the Marshmin- v ster Gazette merely put in a short state- r inent of the affair, and in a few days j c people ceased to take any interest in the <1 Fen inn crime. It was a lucky escape for Francis, but I don't think tho lesson was thrown away on him. J Rose Gernon and her brother went ! A back to town the same eveniug. I never j saw Strent again, but frequently had : the pleasure of seeing his sister perform- I li ing on the stage. She is now engaged : | to be married, but with the knowledge ^ of her actions at the Fen inn I cannot say I envy the bridegroom. u After the burial of Felix I went c abroad with Francis, whose health was ' 'J quite broken down by the strain put on j it during the last few weeks. Ho re- j turned in six mouths and married Oliv* | ia She was told all that had taken 1 place in the lone inn, but kept the information to herself. Mrs. Bellin never ; v knew that Felix had substituted him- ! ( self for Francis. I was best man at the ! j wedding by particular, request and saw 1 . the happy pair start for their honey- I 1 moon. I hope they will be Happy ana ' am sure they deserve to be, seeing | s through what tribulations* they have ! \ passed. ( "What has become of the Fen inn?" asked Dr. Merrick one day when we t were talking over the case. t "Oh, the Fen inn is pulled down, I r believe!" was my reply. "There will s be no more tragedies there." s "A fit end for such a shambles," t said Merrick, and I think he was about J right s THE END. ( pijwllmuiMiS fading. |; SOUTH CAROLINA CROP CONDITIONS. j Director Itaeur Ihhuch HIh La*t Report for , 1 the SeaMon of 1804. j I Director Bauer, of the South Car- i 1 tlina weather service, on Monday of ! 1 list week, issued his last weather and j crop report tor tne season or isy-t. it | is a very interesting paper and reads i us follows: The past week was much cooler than j usual, the departures averaging six i legrees each below the normal. High- j sst temperature for the week 82?; low- j est 38?. j There was a general, heavy and de- , itructive ruin and wind storm on the 8th and till). The amount of rainfall | Averages over two inches, including the entire State. Many rivers overflowed their hanks and ruined what was left of bottom land crops, such as late corn, cotton, pens and much hay. There were also a great deal of open cotton blown out and stained. There was light frosts on the mornings of 1 III), 12lh, 13th; killing frosts J in Jhe "up-country" on the mornings i dI' the 14th, 15th, Kith, which ruined tlie greater part, if not I lie whole, of a very promising top crop of cotton. The injury toother crops is comparatively insignitieant. The early frost is [ more disastrous as the season in the localities where the frost oocured is about 15 days late. A general review of the season of 1S!)4 is as follows : Weather?There was generally an i excess of temperature from January to | July, the greatest departures, both ! above and below the normal, having oc- j cured in March ; after the first of July I the temperature averaged about normal i until the second week in October, when i it became much cooler. There were some wide fluctuations in the tempera- j < lure, the most notable of which occur- ! \ led on March 27-HU, when freezing f weather prevailed over the entire State, 1 destroying practically the entire fruit * crop and doing much other damage. I All vegetation which had attained con- i I siderable growth, and crops that were I planted and up, especially gardens, ( were ruined. There was another cold i wave, with frosts, about the middle of May, doing slight injury to crops, and t some unseasonably cool weather early i in June. i There was less than the usual i amount of rainfall tip to June 17-28, t with severe drougth conditions after | 3 the 20th of May. During July show- | < crs were numerous and timely, and j t during August and September there I < was excessive ami damaging rains j i throughout the eastern half of the State j s while at the same time there were por- j I lions of the western half that needed 1 rain. I f There were few hail storms and no c very destructive ones, and until the i storm of September 2li-2S, but little in- c jury to crops was caused by winds, c The storm af October 8?9th did some s damage, principally by Hooding bottom \ lands. Killing frosts on the 14-lCth of October in the western portions of the r Stale, cut all late crops in that section, c Crops?The cotton crop is about an I .............. I.. ,i/.fo,i,r<> lis condition ill) t Utility*. UV?w..pv. 4 to the 1st of July whs on the whole t poor, but the fields well worked and \ clean. From July on the plant made t rapid growth, ami began to fruit heav- I 1 ily. This condition was sustained I throughout the season in the western o portion of the State, while in the east- j era half its condition deteriorated j 2 rapidly during August and September ' s entirely on account of much rain that c caused rot, rust and shedding with a n consequent loss of the plant's vitality, v as well as eausing grass and weeds to t defy the cultivator and the hoe. Late ti planting suffered most. Taking the I aggregrate crop of the State it promi- ! 1 ses to be somewhat less than that of 1 t the previous year; a few places report i it a better one. j 1 The acreage of corn wus larger than a for some years, and the weather on c the whole extremely favorable until c lie greater portion of the crop was ' inde, so that the corn crop is tin- : oubtedly the largest produced in ears and is of excellent quality. Its | ondition was quite uniform over the ntire State. Early planting made the est crop. The pea crop was not as good as us- , ul, although the acreage was somethai larger. Its condition was fair ml promising until the middle of ingust, after which it came diversified, enerally deteriorating, with a promise f a very ordinary yield, estimated at 0 per cent, of a full crop. There was planted in many counties j smaller acreage of rice than usual, wing principally to the scarcity of j eed, but the crop grew well and re- j urned a good, remunerating yield, afer allowance is made for the loss rom the September storm. Small grains were more or less a iilure. Except that a few counties j iroduced the largest oat crop ever aiown there. The weather conditions rere generally averse to wheat and he yield consequently very poor. It was a poor year for truck farms ml gardens, but during the summer nonths vegetables were plentiful. The adverse weather conditions can e briellv summarized thus: The larch freeze, May and June drought, lugust and September excessive rain, f September hurricane, October floods | nd early frosts. It was, on the rholc, a fairly prosperous year for j inners, for there was a pleutious yield ait they are greatly discouraged by he prevailing low prices for their prolucls, especially cotton. After allowing for exceptions sor;hum was a full crop of a superior [iiality. The acreage was up to the verage if not larger. The tobacco crop where cultivated j lid fairly well, although the weather ras entirely favorable, but it proved o be a paying crop. (irasses made all their growth after : he July rain set in, yet the usual j mount of forage was saved. A large acreage of sweet potato slips ras planted, and the yield of this im- j lortant food crop was perhaps in exess of the average. Irish potatoes lid not do us well. HISTORY OP THE COTTON PLANT. Ln Intere?ting Document from CleiUMon College. The authorities of Clemson college lave issued u deeply interesting bullein on "Fertilizer Experiments with j 'ollon," including u historical sketch, i comparison of varieties, the classifiatiou and grade of crossed varieties. The historical sketch* is prepared hy ohii N. Hook, and every farmer and very man, no matter what his ocetipu- i ion can read it with profit: Cotton (tiossipium)?1The order to vhich this belongs is Malvaceie. ! )kra and the hollyhock are embraced a the same family. The word cotton s derived from the Arabic koton. j Skinner, the etymologist, says cotton is o called from its simillude to the down ' vhich adheres to the quince, Malis ey- | lomis. An examination into the history of he great materials designed by Provilence for human clothing develops the emarkahle fact that not one was as- j igned to Europe. Asia was liberally ; upplied, receiving all?cotton, llax, i he silk worm?and its mountains are j mown to have been the home of the | iheep, which frequently attain the size 1 >f the fallow deer. Silk was first j nade in China, and the produce of the j iilk worm was first brought from China I o Constantinople by two Persian nouks in the reign of Justiniun, A. I). | >52. Flax is indigenous in Egypt and j llso in America?(C'alvigcro's Mexico, j ip. 25-26.) Of the four staple fibers jsed in cloth making, cotton and flax ire of vegetable origin while silk and ,vool are animal products. In this irovidentinl assignment, to Africa uid America were given flax and cot- j on. Cotton was known to the ancient j \siutics aud Egyptians, and it is said : o he the spontaneous production of all j liter-tropical regions. Columbus, Ma- j ;el!an, Drake, Cavendish, Dampler, ; ind indeed, nearly all of the early voy- | igers and explorers, concur in repre- 1 ienting that they saw cotton growing ,vild and in great abundance in the West India islands and on the conti- I lent. Columbus found in St. Salvador, i vhere he first landed, the women Iressed in "short cotton coats," and lis crew exchanged caps, heads and ither toys for "cotton yarn." The growth and manufacture of cot- j on for rauny centuries were confined ! ixclusively to India. Herodotus, the I - .-s? l: 1 AAK ,Ln..a I inner 01 msiury, nnu utcu j jefore Christ, writes: "The inhabitants >f tliat country make their clothes of i lie product of a certain plant, which, j nslead of fruit, produces wool of a iner and better quality than sheep." j Pliny who lived A. I). 75, informs us, ! 'There grows in upper Egypt, near \rabia, a shrub called gossypium, by J )tbers xylol), from which stuffs are ; nude that we call xylenia. It is small ; md bears a fruit resembling the filbert, ; vithin is a downy wool, which is spun nto thread." The same author, speukng of the production of the island of Tylos, in the Persian gulf, men ions "Wool-bearing trees that bear a ruit like a gourd and of the size of a juince, which, bursting when it is ripe j iisplays a ball of downy wool, from ! ,vhieh are made costly garments, of a abrie resembling linen." A late writer j ms observed, that as flax could not be iuccessfully grown on the soil of Aru>ia, and the climate is too hot for the ine tleece of sheep, that cotton must mve been utilized for the purposes of dothing in the infancy of the human ace. The Hebrew writers make no allusion : o the wool-bearing shrub. In (Jreek md Roman literature the slightest lolices of it are to be found. This ! miission seems to be due to the fact \ hat the nations, bordering upon the , Mediterranean, were utterly unnepiaited with the populous countries be,'ou(l the Indus. Virgil, in the second ieorgic, must beyond all doubt have eferred to the cotton plant when he jays: "Shall I sing of the groves of Ethiopia hoary with soft wool, and iow the Seoes comb out the delicate j Icece from among the leaves." Prince j >f I he Latin poets, it was lie who was j :oinmissioned by the authorities of his lountry to employ his pen in the inter st of agriculture, that he might inspire new life and enterprise into the vork of the husbandman, as well as nliven it with the charms of poetic . lumbers. The silence of the writers >f the middle ages, in regard to cotton abries, while describing the vestments hen in common use, leaves us to infer : hat the cotton manufacturing industry vas passing through an interval of' emporary suspension, and that wool, inen and silk constituted the material rom which the customary clothing 1 if the people was made during that leriod. But Governor Seabrook says, i s'earchus, Alexander's admiral, defended the Indus 327 years B. C. and ibserved that "The Indians wore gar- j aents, the substance whereof they 1 vere made growing upon trees; and J his is indeed flax or rather something iner than flax." And "it is certain, j mwever, that at the time of Hagira, A. j ). 622, cotton cloth was a common ma- 1 erial of dress. Cotton in its wild state, and especialy in tropical climates, it is said to be i perennial shrub. Marco Polo, the confidential agent of the Tartar con[ueror of China, who visited many countries, "saw cotton growing abundantly in Mosul, opposite the ancient Nincvali, and at Guzzerat, in which latter place it was produced from a tree six yards high which bore 20 years." As cultivated in the South, however, it is only an annual plant. For four centuries the herbaceous cotton of India was grown in the gardens of China for the beauty of its Mowers, before receiving any attention for domestic uses. That great empire, with all its knowledge of the arts, was remarkably slow in developing any progress in the cultivation of cotton, as a staple crop.; while its people were the original manufacturers of silk, paper and sugar; the first to become acquainted with the properties of the magnet, and the composition of gunpowder. Nearly a century ago the lands of China that had been devoted to the production of cotton were appropriated to the raising of corn, in consequence of the alarming scarcity of provisions by the supreme authority. Of the two kinds of cotton cultivated in the United States the green seed or short staple cotton is derived from the Herduceuui or Herbaceous cotton, and Hirsutum or hairy American cotton ; the long staple or hlack seed cotton is derived from the Arhoreuin or tree cotton (Barhadense.) In 1792 the growth of cotton was little known in this country. As a commercial article it was deemed to be of little importance. There was a law against the importation of cotton from America. In 1792 the entire crop was 138,1128 pounds. In 1842, a half century later, a wonderful revolution was accomplished in the cotton husbandry of the United States, the crop then amounting to 785,221,800 pounds? and almost within the period of another half century the yield of cotton in the United States aggregated the enormous amount in round numbers of 7, 000,000 ofbnles with an average weight of 450 pounds per lade. Cotton is most successfully cultivated between 30 and 35 degrees north latitude. But Coventor Seabrook says in his "Memoir of the Cotton Plant:" It is a well authenticated fact that iu 1730 as far North as the 39th degree cotton on the 'garden scale' was raised in the vicinity of Eaton iu the county of Talbcrt, on the eastern shore of the Chesapeake bay. About 40 years afterwards it was cul tivated in St. Mary's county, Maryland, and iu the northern county of Cape May, iu New Jersey, also iu Sussex county, Delaware." The wonderful discoveries and inventions iu this country and England iu the operations of curding, spinning and weaving cotton?the "Water Frame," by Arkwright, the "Spinning Jenny," by Hargreavesand the "Mule Jenny," by Samuel Crompton, together with the American saw gin by Eli Whitney, gave birth to the cotton husbandry of the United States. "Of lite great divisions of the globe," remarked Mr. Baincs, "Europe was t)in I net. In 1'iwnivn I Jin cot ton 111:11111 facto rer, or to engage in thai hrancii of industry. So immense is the extent of the British cotton manufacture at this time (1835), that the yarn spun in a year would in a single thread pass around the globe's circumference 203,775 times; it would reach 51 times from the earth to the sun; and it would encircle the earth's orbit 8J times. The wrought fabrics of cotton exported in one year wduld form a girdle for the globe, passing 11 times round the equator." The distaff and spinning wheel have gone out of use, but in their place have come the ponderous machines which perform their tasks as if guided by thought, and "With wiry teeth revolving cards, Release tlx; tangled knots and smooth the raveled fleece; Next moves the iron band with lingers line, x Coin l)s the wide card and forms the eternal line." Some one has said that he who would know all about cotton must, like Lord Bacon, take all knowledge for his province. The influence of the industry is beyond computation. It afreets our habits and opinions?our laws and legislation. It creates a vast commerce with wonders at every sluge of its manufacture. It is marvelous to contemplate the arts, sciences and financial power involved in one single branch of this industry?the art of cotton printing. "There are the madder and other vegetable dyes, the brilliant coal dyes, and the metallic mixtures to make the dyes fast; all the elements which the chemist controls must be studied in turn?their production, collection, preparation, blending use and effects. The designer searches through all nature for patterns." The skill of the engraver, with his tools and copper cylinders, is brought under tribute. The great staple of the South, will we ever utilize to their highest development the vast powers and oportunities involved in this Southern industry? For many of the historical facts here mentioned, the writer is indebted to the "Memoir of the Cotton l'lant," written by W. B. Seabrook years ago, who was afterwards governor of South Carolina. ViPHVTI VII POWER UP POINTERS. The scenting power of a well bred, well trained setter is a thing wholly beyond human conception, and the marvelous exhibitions they give of this power can scarcely be credited, says the Chicago Tribune. Indeed, it would not be wise to seriously discuss the quality of a dog's nose were it not possible to verify the stories that might be told of this wonderful power. Who would believe that a dog going at a good gallop, with a dead bird in its mouth, could scent a live bird on the ground several yards to one side of his course? Vet there are few sportsmen who have not seen a ?log point a live bird with a dead bird in bis mouth. It would seem as if the scent of the bird so near his nose would prevent the (fog from scenting another bird of the same variety lying close in the grass several yards from him. A man with a bunch of roses in his face would not pretend he could smell a bunch of similar Mowers a foot away. If he did, no one would believe him. Yet there is no doubt about the setter being able to smell and point live birds on the ground while lie holds a dead bird in his mouth. He goes further than this. He points a dead bird 011 the ground with a dead bird in bis month, and he knows the instant he feels the scent that itisadead bird. This fact he expresses in his manner of pointing, and if it is a wounded bird he knews that too, and indicates the fact. Most dogs are taught to point stanchly a live bird and not to point a dead bird. The dog will go at full speed right up to a dead bird and never pause a moment. If there is a live bird near he will point cinnntilv niifl tlw> nrnrmtt ncss mid cor I" 1 - tainty of his decisions show that the instant he catches a scent whether the bird is alive or dead. He makes a distinction, too, between a dead bird and alive bird and a wounded bird. He points the wounded bird differently from what he does the live bird, and usually springs in and catches it. What there is about a wounded bird's scent that he can recognize instantly is a puzzle to every one who has thought much of the question. ?? BSaT" The clock which was actually made by the royal hands of Louis XVI came into the possession of a member of the Rothschilds family two or three years ago. It is probably the most valuable clock in existence, its present owner giving no less than ?33,600 for this remarkable timepiece. '