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MK 30?IBB WATGi?AS, Established April, 18S0. Consolidated Aus. 2. 1881.] 'Be Just and Fear not-Let ail the Ends thou Aifiis't at be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's THE TRUE SOUTHERN, Eet?bli?Se? JUD?, * ??? SUMTER, S. C., WEDNESDAY. OCTOBER 17, 1888. New Series-fol. till. No. ll. BT N- GK OSTEEN, S UM TEK, S. C. TK?MS: Two Dollars per aabum- in advance. ADV?RtI8IH?ST8. >o Sqaar?, first insertion..................$1 00 fiver; subsequent insertion.......^**........ 50 Contracts for three months, Or longer W?! 3* made at reduced rates. All ?oramuaicat?ona which 3ubser ve private interests will be charged for ss advertisements. Obituaries and triantes ot respect will be - -harjied for. k F. w. DELORMI; * Agent? -DEALER IN i mmi ?mm TWil SOAPS, PERFUMERY AND ALL KINDS OF Druggist's Sandries USUALLY KKPT IN \ FIRST-CLASS DHUQ ST6KK. Tobacco, Snuff and Segars, GARDEN SEEDS, &C., ' AMO Palate, Oils, Varnishes, #T*ASS, POTTY, ftc. -ASO . DYE STUFFS. -O-= Physician's Prescriptions carefully t;oto poa tided, ard o rie rs answered xri?h care and dfepatcb. The public will find my stock of Medicines complete, warranted getiu $ae, and of the best quality. GaH and see foryonrse?ves. j saurs EMULSION -OF- j COD LIVER OIL AND Hipplssiilites of Lie aM SMa. ? - This preparation coniains seventy-five per, ?eat. of Fare God Liver O??, and ooe drachm -?ach of the Hypophospdites of Lime and Soda, making it one of the most agreeable prepara tteasaftbe kind known to the medical faculty. A tablespoonful contains two grains each ef the flypopbospbites. Prepared onlv by GEBERT S. SEALY, Pharmaceutical Chemist, SUMTER, C. 8. tfec y_ C. I- HOYT. H. A. BOTT ; C. I. HOYT & BRO.. Gold and Silver Watches, Clock*, Jraalry, Spectacles, MERIDEN BRITANIA SILVERWARE, kc. REPAIRING A SPECIALTY. SPORTING MATERIAL, Shells, Wads aod Everything Pertain? ing to Breech-Loading Guns. Feb I_ L. W. FOLSOM, Snccc- r to F. H. Folsom * Bro. SUMTER. S. C. Dealer in WATCHES, CLOCZS, JSWBZAY, Fine Gold and Sifter Watches, Sterling Silver and finest Plated Bridal Presents. Hieb Jewelry in Gold and Plate. Clocks, Spectacles and Eye Glasses, Opera Glasses, Gold Pens. Machine Needles and Oil for all Machines, Fishing Tackle, kc. kc. The celebrated Royal St. Jobn Sewing Ma? chine and finest Razor in America always on band. Repairing promptly and neatly exe? cs ted by skilled workmen. Orders by mail will receive careful atten? tion._ Sept. 5 A. WHITE ft SON, Insiiraoee Agents, Offer in First Class Companies. FIRE INSURANCE, TORNADO INSURANCE, ACCIDENT INSURANCE, LIFE INSURANCE, PLATE GLASS INSURANCE, SURETYSHIP ON BONDS. April g_ K?BBER STAMPS NAME STAMPS FOR MARKING CLOTHING with indelible ink, or for pr "mt i og visiting ends, sod STAMPS OF ANY KIND Ur tamping BUSINESS CARDS, ENVEL? OPES or anything els?. Specimens of varions style? on band, which will be ?bown with pleas are. Tb? LOWEST PRICES possible, and orders 9lied promptly. Cali on C. P. OSTEEN, At the Watchman and f^atbron Office Samter, S. C. OSBORNE'S POWDER Absolutely Pure. This powder never varies. A marvel of purity, strength and wholesomeness. More economical than the ordinary kinds, and can? sot be sold io competition with the multitude of low test, short weight, alum or phosphate powders. Sold only in cans. ROYAL BAK? ING POWDER CO., 106 Wall-st., N. Y. " ""?, CATARRH Cream IIBf ) L, - Uj Cleanses the Nasal Pas^gesM^^l?jSWS^ * I Allays Pu!. aTlg^&$ 2| INFLAMMATION. UW'tU^W? SM Heals the -Sores?k J SENSES OF TASTFgffl^^i^^W and Smell. w?B^^^^^^ TRY TH, CURE HAY-FEVER CATASES is a disease of the macons membrane, gener? ally originating in the nos*! passages and maintaining ils stronghold in the bead. From this point it sends forth a poisonons virus into the stotesch and through the digestive , organs, corrupting the Mood and producing ! other troublesome and dangerous symptoms. A particle is applied into each nostril and is agreeable. Price50 cents at Druggist ; by mail, registered, 60 cents. ELY BROS., 56 Warren Street, New York. BEST AND CHEAPEST. ALL eOODS GUARANTEED. Estimates famished by return Mail. LARGE STOCK, PROMPT SHIPMENTS. Ii). II. MB i CH., MANUFACTURERS OF AND WHOLE? SALE DEALERS IN S, SASH, BHDS, MOULDING, -AND GENEBAL BUILDING MATERIAL. Office and Salesroonis, 10 and 12 H ny ne St., CHARLESTON, S. C. Jan 25 o C. 0. BROWN & BRO., COLUMBIA, a C. SASH & BLINDS, LATHS, LIME, CEMENT, PLASTER, .AND HAIR. FreiclaiAfflsricaifMof&lass, PAINTS, OILS AND VARNISHES. CARTER WHITE LEAD, Tbe Best io the Market. Special Attention Given to Orders by Mail. C. O. BROWN & BRO., Opposite Post Office, COLUMBIA, S. C. Oct 5-o G. W. DICK, D. D. S. Office over Bogin's New Store, KKTRA5CE OK KAIN STREET, SUMTER, S. C. Office Hoars.- 9 to 1:30 ; 2:30 to 5. Sept 8 D. B. ANDERSON, Attorney at Law. SUMTER, S. C. Will practice in adjoining counties. Collecting made a specialty. SWIFTS SPECIFIC Is entirely a vegetable pr?paration containing no Mercury, Potash, Arsenic, or other poisonons substances. SWIFT'S SPECIFIC Bas cured hundreds of ca?es of Epithelioma or Cancer of thc Skin, thousands of cases of Eczema, Blood Humors asd Skin Diseases, and hun drcds of thousands of casca of Scrofula, Blood Poison, and Blood Taint. SWIFTS SPECIFIC Has relieved thousands of cases of Mercurial PoisoniE?,', Jihcumr.ism, and Stiffness of the Join ?8. ,; WHAT PHYSICIANS SAT OP THE Swrrr Srxcinc We append the statement of a few: "I have used S. S. S. on patients convalescing from fever end from measles with the best results J. N. CHENEY, M. D. Ellaville, Ga. BuBxxx. GA.-Willie White was adlicted with scicfuk seven year?. I prescribed S. S. S., and to-day ho is a fat an'- robust boy. ? C. W. PARKER, JL B. RICHMOND, VA., Dec. 13, 18S3.-1 have taken three bottles of Shirt's Specific, for secondary blood poison. It acts much better than potash or any other remedy I have ever nsed. B. F. WINFIELD, M. B. Book on Contagious Blood Poison mailed free. AH druggists F?1 S. S. S. THS Swrrr SpBcmo Co.. Drawer 3, Atlanta, Ga. New York, 756 Broadway._*._ A Walk in Whitechapel. A Photographic Description of the World's Central Horror. While ao immense amount of matter has been cabled over concerning the Whitechapel atrocities, there baa been a curious poverty of detail. The ghast? ly diablarie of these crimes aod the grotesque horror of their execution has confounded the solemn respectability of the British reporter and he has not been equal to the .occasion. If a race of devils exist, the poblic want to know their street and numbr , and as far as descriptive details ar? concerned the murders might as well bare occurred in Belgravia's aristocratic purlieus or in front of the Langham Hotel. As a matter of fact, they were oom - milted within twenty minutes* Walk of the Bank of England. When one passes this celebrated in? stitution be has on his left the historic Mansion House and on bis right the Corinthian oolonnade of the Royal Ex obange. He stands in a square, and back of him debouch a dozen thorough? fares, for this i? the heart' of London, from which radiate the pulsing arteries that minister to the vitality of the me? tropolis. 'The strategic centre of the ouiverse,' Mr. Robert Louis Stevenson quaintly calls it, 'within earshot of the most continuous chink of money on the face pf the earth.* Within twenty minutes' walk of this focus of civilization six women were disemboweled. There are several ways of reaching the spot, but it is best to take Lombard street, one of the thoroughfares enter? ing the sqnare from the southeast. It is an ancient highway, and for some distance is given up to banking bouses, solicitors' offices and other serious and respectable vocations, but, advancing, one is conscious of a subtle .^deteriora? tion- Solid fronts give way to showy plate, overgilded gin palace* grow fre? quent, together with handsome closed bouses that might be anything and on a business street alway* w?-ar an air of discreet invitation. . These are in turn replaced by b?ge pawnshops, with win? dows full of Barning diamonds stuck oo cards, auction room flaun ing red flags and noisy with bogus buyers, cheap stores, two-thirds on the pavements, aod hair-dresser's parlors, legended with the praise of that balm, or this lotion, until all the thoroughfare is tin? seled, tawdry and spurious as a black? leg on a holiday. This is ten minutes' walk ; turn to the north, and five minutes more take you to Aldgate Station, passing through a street occupied by small shops, cob? blers' stall, bell bangers, cleaning aod dyeing houses and all those minor avo? cations that fill in the chinks of trade. Aldgate is a great depot, from which tram cars run. A few streets above it is the famous 'Petticoat line,' tull of old clos' houses, swarming with 'bark? ers' who seise the dubious customer, where the Lord's prayer runs, 'Give us this day our daily stranger,' and where anything from a silk stocking to an 1840 beaver bat can be bought at a ruinous sacrifice. Leave the station bear to the east again, and in five min? utes you have reached the haunt of che fiend who slaughters wotueu iu the dark. It is a huge tract, about a half mile each way; and the approaches .to it;are streets full of sullen, sombre looking brick tenements, flush with tbe pave? ment and in various stages of decay. This is as far as the average curiosity seeker eogtged in 'slumming' pene? trates The fetid heart of the place, down the labyrinthine alley ways and gloomy passages, is a region scarce safe for eyes and ears polite. The ways that lead to it continually descend, until one finds himself at length in a low-lying jumble of narrow streets, winding among huge dilapidated houses, and leading here and there to squalid courts, foll of wan-raced, ragged child- f ren. The sky is seen through a mesh j of clothes-lines fluttering with tatters, I and frequently beams have been thrown j across from house to house to prop them at the tops and keep them from i tumbling together. This is White- : chapel, the Whitechapel of Dickens,, where the Artful Dodger found safe re? treat, and the theatre of more accumu? lated misery than any other spot ou the sad old earth. The people who live here are women who have already died the first death of courtesans-that is to say, who have become old or frightful-aod men whom poverty, degradation or prime have driven from every other nook and cor? ner of London. Very few have fallen from any high estate ; that sort prefer to jump off of London bridge and have done with it ; these are the off-soour inga. However there are some excep? tions. I asked the way on one occa? sion of a man who had a profile like a statue and was dressed like a rag-picker. His face wore a scared, questioning, bewildered look that was haunting, and I have never forgotten it, and he an? swerer very gently, like a child. He had been a gentleman, then an absin? the drinker and was an imbecile. Whitechapel does not rep.ily wake up until after dark. The denizens, like rats, prefer their holes by day, but when the lamps are lit they come swarming out. throng the narrow pas gages and blockade the corners. There is a community of suffering among them; they ali know one another, and women wander up and down by twos or threes, begging for drinks and sing? ing ribald songs. At intervals of half an hour or so a police officer looms into view and passes by with slow, solemn tread. He looks neither to right nor left) and realizes that he is there solely as a matter of form, although at the sight, of him any fight that may bc in progress momentarily stops, and men and women by force of habit slink into hallways and are silent. The strangers who occasionally put in appearance are io the main, drunken sailors, out to spend in a Dight the wages of the last voyage. Instantly they are seized upon by a dozen women, who fight like catamounts for the privilege of pluoking the pigeon. 'Don't ye know me?' cries one. 'I'm Annie, wot ye was with afore.' 'Let'im alone, bussy!' screams ?q> ther ; ''es raj old pal !' 'Ain't he pretty V 'Hi, Jack ! Buy the beer V And so, ato00g them, they lea< the poor stupid sheep to be sh Ho* be drank sod drank until the deo where be tat lurched under with dizzier plunges than any deel ever trod at sea; how a mjster quarrel arose ; bow he was first -obi theo beateo, aod theo thrust bleec out of doors-ali these things be members next day like passages it ugly dream, and then to the ship}: office and another year before the m Thus Whitechapel lives The typical Whitechapel diVe wt these scenes are euacted every nigh the year is worth a description. 1 usually in the basement of one of tl huge tenements and eotered by a fli of steps Io the front part is a counter* doing doty as bar, sod bael it are heaped kegs of beer aod bott Beer, rom aod whiskey are the tt things on sale, aod the cranny, brok nosed, sinister-faced man who dispel them would be as much surprised t request for a mixed drink as be wo be if one of bis customers asked bin change a twenty-pound note 'Cutt chaffing/ he would say, 'an' tell wot. ye' want.' Nearly everybody wants a bocket beer, aod as also half the people w credit, there is haggling and disput without end. Now and theo the b tender jumps over tb? counter and t ties some dispute by striking out rij and left. On one occasion, in the mi of such a crowd* in a Wbitechaple di I saw a witch like old crone totter to the bar, band a tin pail to one of i brutes who was pumpiog beer, and i something to bim io an undertone turned, looked at her fixedly for an stant, and tben, without sword, dasi the bucket twice into her face. Wfa she picked herself up be threw t bucket after ber and bade he begoi It may be interesting to note in passi that the man who did this abominai thing was, I afterwards ascertains not ao Englishman, but SQ Americ who bad obtained his early educati tending bar in a lake-front saloon Chicago. In the rear jct these establish mei several rooms are usually boarded c where meo are robbed at leisure, they could talk they could tell soi queer tales. In 1884 a Wbitechar 8alooo, known as 'The Cat and Be was destroyed by fire, aod wheo t debris was cleared away two wall rooms, the existence of which DO O bad dreamed of, were discovered io t cellar. It bad beeo ao immensely o house, aod these were probably at oi time used as wine bins. Against tl door a frightful something that at preserved some of the semblance of human body was found. But io tl damp aod endless midnight of tb cavernous hole it had passed so tho oughly from flesh to decay and fro decay to mod that they were not sur and thought it a pile of wet ashes out they moved it aod a skoll rolled ou Some metal buttons and a corrode knife found in the mass identified it i the remains of a sailor, called 'Frene Bob.' aud then it was remembered ho he had wandered into Whitechapel on night about a year before, and wan lat seen carousing with some women Ho be got. into the horrible erypt frot which his body was taken is easy goes in?. He was doubtless robbed, th roi tied and thrown lhere for dead, bi from the position of the remain* it i only too probable that he revived i the living tomb, crawled to the dooi and died in a last effort to escape. Th records of the London police trac nearly one-fourth of the disappearance to the Whitechapel district, and coo side-ring the enormous sice of the cit these figures ueed no comment All of the six victims of the recen Whitechapel murders were found in th doorways, halls or landings of (be ten? ment houses. The average White chapel tenement is four or five storie high, and from top to bottom it swarm hideously with life. Its sixty or eight; rooms are never empty, and thc mor fortunate rent sleeping space to others so there is really nothing remarkable io the statement of one mao to th* Scotland Yard detectives that he bat lived in the district six months ao< never slept twice in the ?ame place Even the women huddled together liki rabbits in a warren. VNow and then typhoid fever makei its appearance and decimates a neighbor hood: Theo the big tenements become shambles, and it is oo unusual thiog tfyjiWa dead body in ooe corner of a room, a woman raving io delirium ic another, and the balance of the family coolly cooking their dinner on the stove, Through the center of nearly all these tenements run large hallways? and io these the bodies of the victims weft discovered. All fix of the murders took place in a little network of streets, not more tbao eight or nine blocks long, in the very heart of the district, nod ul the character " already described. A place more Jikely to interruption it would be harjj'to conceive, for not only are the hundred and one inmates of the tenement continually passing in and cut, but there are two or three saloons in the vicinity, and the efree's are thronged until ao early hour in the morning. And whoever did these ghastly deeds, so suddenly and so silently that not one of all this multitude saw or heard him, must have found himself, unless he had safe; retreat close at hand, in the very jaws of death. As well look for a hiding place ia a desert as an asylum iu these swarming rooke? ries. He would have been ?(fixed, drag? ged out aod in the clutches of the mob before "the blood was dry upon his fingers,-Baltimore Sun. -- m . ? ? . *tv~ The Rev. Dr. E. 0 Dargan, form erly of this State, a graduate of Fur inau University, and the first honor student of the Louisville. Kentucky, Seminary, bas telegraphed the Citadel Square Baptist Church accepting their call, and the Charleston World, from which we get, our information, says Dr. Dargan will preach his first sermon there on the third Sunday in November. .-?---? Lord Wolseley, one of the leading generals of England, has written au ar? ticle on the military srt in which he maintains that the five gr.-nt captains evolved in the history of the wor''i were Caemar. Hannibal, M arl borong!'. Napoleon and Lee. ; J ,sr>*i ?gil A Slight Misunderstanding. By E R W. [Copyright]. tt ls tho hottest kind pf a July day, and tbe plad? l? ? remarkably dingy Kew York law office. Two or three blocks away Trinity is chiming 3, but tho roar of Broadway drowns that. The emceed ing sultriness of tho air and tho shrill chant o? "second Post'1 which. comes" up from the seething. strC-?t, tell that mid afternoon has arrived. I'ho office boy ?a? sunk peacefully off into glum ber in* his little dark anteroom. Mr. Blake catt s?e him nodding painfully over a dime novel, but finds him Hot more exciting than his Own sample of literature*, oil interesting work on "Notes and Bills." So Mr. Blake again Applies himself4 to "Notes and Bill?" for about three min? ut?s. At the end of that time his eves Wander, fix themselves gravely ott nis feet, close, and then open fcgaih very trido as his head drops forward with & jerk. The young man shakes himself, jfawhS frightfully, and gives up reading as un? profitable and tending to stupefy. Mr. Blake is a lawyet, who ls bette* known in the.boat houses on the Harlem and at Wood's gymnasium than In the" Courts, and whose ideas of the proper cul? tivation of muscle are more profound than his knowledge of law. This ls evi? denced by his sunburned'' face, his Short crop of hair, and his cene ral get up, which is more athletic than legal. . But now the races are all rowed, the crew has disbanded, the long four oar is drying out In the boat house, and when Mr. Blake goes on the Harlem it is between a pair ef sculls, which propel him along. Remote, uaf rvmded, stfHtafy, but not alow. This is all Very well, but not to be compared to the rush of con? tending crews. Ills occupation gone, and the town deserted, he Ls* beginning to meditate vacation. To him thus engaged enters from an inner office one whose neat attire, smiling face and strictly legal auburn whisker proclaim the rising yougg man. "Tom, the judge wanta you. Pttt on your coat; there's a swell client inside." Mr. Bloke makes the suggested addition to the rather sketchy attire which the warmth of the season demands and the privacy of his den permits, and grumbling enters tho awful presence, which sits en? shrined in an office more dark and more disty, if possible, than the others, and lined with shelves full of books, which are in tum oppressed by large tin boxes and vast bundles of papers. Being re? mote from the street it |s comparatively quiet; Its windows open into a narrow alley, from the depths of which arise the direful accusations and recrimina? tions of bootblacks, who gamble for pen? nies In its shady seclusion. The great being' who glorifies this dismal place is a bald vl9 gentleman, who sits at a most untidy writing table in the center of tho room. He is a type of the old style American citizen. He drosses tn black broadcloth; he wears a chin beard; and he Say8 "sir" very frequently. Mr. Blake looks at tho top of his chiefs head as he enters thc room. It is very smooth and whit??, and reminds him ol h. billiard ball, os it hos done many times before. But it does more; for as it is quite white, and not a lively pink, he knows that the judge ls in a good humor. "Mr. Vanvoorst, let me introduce Mr. Blake-one of our young gentlemen, sir," says tho judge, with a flourish. Mr. Van voorst and Tom murmur their delight at meeting, and the latter, taking a seat at the invitation of his superior, looks to seo what manner of man the client is. On examination Le appears to be a young man of 25 or 20, of an inoffensive blonde type, and with no indications of either great physical or mental vigor, and his clothes evidently are from an English tailor. Is it necessary to add that they do not fit? But thc London clothes and the blonde whiskers give tho man some? thing of the Anglo-American air so pop? ular at present. Mr. Blake, who does the thing much better, is at least satisfied, though not lost in admiration, and thus gives the judge all the better attention as he says: "Mr. Van voorst has come to me, sir. upon business of a peculiarly confidential and private nature, and after mature de? liberation I have decided, sir, to call on you for assistance in a matter which re? quires extreme delicacy and tact, sir; and it is a knowledge of tho fact that you, sir, are a frequenter of that fashionable so? ciety which, however deteriorating in some of ita phases, nevertheless imparts a certain tact and ease which the nicest intellectual culture too often fails to-a yes. sir." Mr. Blake, utterly in the dark, mur? murs, "You're very good. I'm sure." Mr. Vanvoorst smiles feeble encouragement. The judge continues: "I will, without further preface, put you in possession of the facts as Mr. ^ an voorsfhas apprised me of them. You are aware that the elder Mr. Vanvoorst has long been a much respected client of minc, though since his retiring from busi? ness some five vcars ago, .1 have seen very little of him. ?t appears that ia the early part of this summer-correct mo if I am wrong, Mr. Vanvoorst-yes, sir-during a visit to Cape May, tho elder Mr. Van? voorst met a widow lady named-a-let rae see - 'm'm - John Brady" - reading from, a slip of paper before him-"Ann McGuire-bless my soul! that can't bc oh, I sec." And the judgo changes tho paper in his hand for another, explaining with much action that he has rando a mis? take. Tho top of his head is a little pink, but he goes on: "Mrs. Maekenzie-^yes, sir-a person of fine personal appearance. and insinuat? ing address, and, if I may judgo from description, net destitute of in? tellectual charms. Without entering into detail. I may say that this person has succeeded in completely infatuating Mr. Vanvoorst, who has been for many years a widower; he has followed her from place to placo, and sho is now actually visiting at his residence, where she un? doubtedly means to establish herself per? manently as Mrs. Vanvoorst." The younger Vanvoorst interrupts: "Yes, by George; I was half afraid to leave tho old gentleman alono this morn? ing, for fear she'd marry him before I got back." Tho judge does not like to bo inter? rupted, and ho grows a trifle pink again. After a reproachful pause he resumes: "It is. of course, most annoying to Mr. Vanvoorst's family that such a state of things should exist-that their father should t>e thus at the mercy of a person who is an unprincipled adventuress-for such Mrs. Mackenzlo undoubtedly i.s." "I beg pardon," puts in Blake, "but is Mr. Vanvoorst so far gone that ho is not particular about tho lady's antecedents?" "Won't believe anything wo say to him," answers tho other young man. "Had a douce of a shindy with him yes? terday for calling her cn adventuress." "linve you no proofs to show?" "That i? exactly why you aro called on. Mr. Blake." says tho judge. "Thero ts nothing to Ix? said against Mrs. Macken? zie as actual fact; but wo aro not uncer tain that inquiry might develop some? thing which would startle Mr. Vanvoorst out *>? his infatuation. It has occurred to mo that yon, with your large circle of ac? quaintance, and living, a? I norry to t?ear von do. however well il suits our present purposes, u lifo which draws you within the palo of fashionable dissipation, might be able to ascertain something of the previous history of this lady more easily than I or mnp easily than Mr. Vanvoorst here, who is already, ho tells mf\ an object ?f suspicion in Mrs. Mack razies eves." Pinko looks raih^r disgusted. "Would? n't Pinkerton's men do it bettor than any of us? I don't fancy acting detective." "But, my good sir. it is not in that ca? pa*:;'y that I desire you to act. Yon ge Walte looks rather disgusted, lo Mr. Vanvoowt's bouse, a* the guo*!t bis son, arid wo trust? merely to that < Cernment of which 1 bate seen iud! tiona, sir, in you, to decide* whether rx tera must bo allowed to take their com or whether an Investigation by dctocti Would be auadvisible measure." So the strife ?oes on, the judge delh lng a succession of brief orations. Bi; growling his* objections, ?nd Vanvoc grinning encouragement, and occasi ally putting in his little oar to ino? less purpOTe^generaJly less. At leng the judie having become ve fy pink x emphatic, and Vanvoorst having inri bis new acquaintance to visit him with earnestness which is almost pathetic, < young friend swallows his scruples ? consents to go on what he aesef ts to b ? wild goose chase. I "Well, anyhow. Mr. Blafcc, well try make it pleasant fot you over Sund You can meet me on the 6 o'clock train forty-second strtet?" says Vanvoox , who certainly does not procrastinate. -The 6 o'clock train up the river cart the two young men swiftly along un in the late twilight, they descend at lonely little station, for enough fr New Vor?c to bo ottt of the way of cc j mutera, and the consequent viable ri! [ Besides the station house nothing ls v j ible in the dusk of thc starless, o ref c; evening, except an exceedingly steep ls striking* almost directly up the hill fn the river. With the xoar of the train their ears, the place seems strang* quiet, nert to say dismal; but both 1 young men recover their Spirits to so: extent at the exhilarating spectacle ol Very high T cart coming Up to the pl I form With a big and undoubte< ! evil disposltioned brown horse in t shafts, the whole under the guidai of a groom whose cravat alone is suffira to. stamp thb equipage as aristocrat Mounting thia, Vanvoorst junior d covers new excellences, and bursts, as were, Into full bloom. He is not much look at; he does not strike one os int lectnal; and he is Certainly not athle but he can drive. He has an opportune for a display of his talents os they go the hill. A freight train comes roan along below them, and the horse, only t glad of an excuse, attempts to get ov the fence, regardless of the cart and i occupants. The calm manner in whi his master gets him bock into the ros and thc pace at which he works him alo: when they have climbed to the level, uni to raise vanvoorst in the opinion of 1 companion, who is beginning to qnako the near approach of his troubles. St! his philosophy comes to the rescue, a: looking only at the present, he thinks is certainly better to be thus bowlii along a good road through the summ night than to bo in New* York-bett even than hearing Thomas' men scrapie away at "Amaryllis," In an atmospue blue with smoke. Through a little viUage-tavern, blac smith shop, store and a dozen houses along a road line<^with trees., throuj which one gets glimpses of tho riter dov below, past a long Une of stoneball ;*tiA with a sudden whirl that makes tl groom on the back seat seize tho rai through a wide gate with a lodge, neith* ornamental nor commodious, guarding i then up a long avenue, which ls very dat with thick trees, till the treesgrow larg? and fewer, and the turf more close! shorn, and tho house comes in sight just a great dark bulk looming lip again: a background of trees and sky. The trot briskly around a great gr?vele sweep to the front, arid pull up, wit much scattering of small stones, an great reluctance on the part of th horse. The house presents a row of brilliant! lighted windows, opening on a wid piazza, and sending their light strean lng over lawn and flower beds, till it i lost in the night Sounds of Strauss ai heard? dancing forms go sliding past ti windows-evidently tho Vanvoorsts ei tcrtain. Thc scion of that noble mc* called on to explain by his" companion, n sponda. "Hang itl I forgot. They've g< a lot of people to dinner-some people wfc live around here and a lot more up froi the Point." Visions of military heroes flit throng Blake's head as ho follows his host up th steps across the vacant piazza, an through a rather dark entrance into a bi ea uara hall in tho middle of tbs house which runs np to tho roor* apparently, an has a gallery around it at the Hoer a bo vt It is dimly lighted, and has a slipper? hard woo? floor, upon which, further t catch tho unwary, aro disposed occasions rugs, of size e^d fabric well adapted io tripping up and overtumiug. This i about all Blako makes out, before a sinai brunette, decidedly pretty, comes out o thc lighted drawing roora and siczes Van voorst with an air ol proprietorship. Tos has been mado avrr.ro that tho reasor Vanvoorst junior is unmolested by tn destructive widow ia because ho is airead; married; so ho ia quite prepared to bi presented to Mrs. Vanvoorst. Ho is not no we ver, prepared to sea two acquaint ancos coming upon him simultaneonslv One of these, a small and eminently lao> like young woman, comes across tho hal on a man s arm, with a littlo hand out stretched, and an astonished "Why, Mr Blake!" Tho other bursts upon him al at once, through a near door, a bewilder lng vision, which he knows only too wei -a vision of dark eyes and dead gold hali overa low brow, and white, full armi and shoulders, the whole swimming In i sea of pale, green. Blake, who is anything but nervous-whose heurt hardly gains 1 throb in that awful moment when gripping his oar handle, he waits bo tween tho "Beady!" and the "Go!' -feels hi)? face flush, and draws his breath hard a moment, but only for a mo? ment. "Mrs. Mackenzie, let ino present Mr. Blake." "Mr. Blake a/rd I have met before, 1 think." savs the beauty, and puts out a ready hautl. cordially enough. "Aird Mr. Blako is charmed to have tho pleasure again," says the vonni? man. quite sell possessed now. Mrs. Mackenzie and be take stock of ono another; the Vanvoorsts. stare; there is an awkward pause, which is broken by tho littlo person before re? ferred to. who never did art awkward thhi? in her life, and who now leaves her escort's arm and comes up with tho pleas? antest possible smile. "Here is another surprise for yon. Mr Blake. What cloud did you fall from?" Then, a trillo lower but very frankly, "I'm awfully glad to seo you." And she gives Mr. Blake's brown paw a little pinch, which no mau in his senses would dare to think a squeeze. Hhc is honest in what 1 she says; she really is glad to ace thc voting i man. She is fond of the society of men, j and men liko to tal* to her. Karo Stuart I is not a ilirt; she simply cordial and unaffectedly easy with ever)' one; but hardly Ruy man can help fancying, as be talks "to her. that sho really rather pre? fers him to the majority of pt?ople. Somo men have possibly boen conceited enough to get themselves in lovo with tho littlo lady; but is that her fault? 8ho honestly does not liko to bc annoyed by sentimen? tal boys, and our friend Blako is an im? mense favorito of hers because ho has* i carefully "kept in tho background what I Uttle sentinient; there is in hbj^omposj t?on. ana has always teen perfectly irai and simple with her. And to tell t tftrth. Tom likes* her j u ti a little bett ?han any ene else he knows, bnt keeps tight rein on himself. For Miss fetus is, as ho thinks, "too largo gamo"* i him. She is tho only daughter of an o gentleman well known and much 3 spected in the vicinity of Wi and Broad streets, and she wou undoubtedly .bo a very good spec f?tion for Mr. Blake, whose ena dal abilities aro principally ia the hne getting credit, and whose h?w practi dees not pay his office root. fiut stran as it may seem In theto days* Blake hes kind of ait idea that ho would bc as u comfortable in marrying money as would bo in maitying poverty; 60 whe ?ter he thinks of the suMect at all, put? it by with a slmrg of tho should and Says, "It's too expensive." 80 be is pleaded to sec the little g now* tod ?afra 6o. Then tb* old gent] l?mi, wh??o ha{rpme?s he has come to ? elroy, appears on the scene, and wi conies him with* a cordiality that mak him feel like .a pickpocket; and after little Sweet converse about tho w?ath and the dust, awi other lnter*esting topi< tho arrivals are allowed te make thei selves a little comfortable, and aro se rv with dinner In a big dining room whe about twenty peeplohave dined an houf so before. Blake hos begged off from jomii in the festivities of the evenings but Ya voorst appears in full dress, which he h assumed, With much grumbling, at tl command Of his wife. That lady Jeav her guests for a moinont, having be* told Blake's* errand,, and comes into t dining room after the young men ha tome what appeased their hunger. "Well, Mr. Blake, you are evident better prepared to tel! us who Mr?, Mi kenzie is thara Von expected/ ?a?* ti impatient Mrs. Vanvoorst, as soon* a? tl bbeen cc of the servant permite. "Ves," answers Blake very delib?rate] "I fancy I may as well be driven back tho st-*:<rt, ano take the late tra down/' "Why, vriiat ?0 you mean?" "Why, really, when ? tell you wh l?tt Io there ls to tell about Mrs. Macke ale, you will a^ree with me that there iiothing tc bo done-nothing at least th 1 can do." "Who is sher "She used to be Miss Mabttty-Lau: Mabury-lived somewhere down Pennsylvania, where I used to kno her," says Mr. Biako, with a piece of bird on his fork, to which piese of bird 1 apparently utters these confidence ''Southern family. Very great telle* ai quite well known in Baltimore, end at ic Philadelphia. Infernally stupid of s not to remember ber married name rvally, though, 1 had quite forgotten] Think the man was a navy man-?ida knott he was dead before/' "Is- is ehe all right?" asl? Vanvoors with his mouth full. Blake laughs in an ugly kind wa; "Sorry to disappoint you, but really' don't know anything against her; used 1 bo rather animated, I must say; but pe fectly good style*-went out in very got society, and was quite well connected, ai -di that kind of thing. rTu*t'a about a I can tell vdu; so; if it isn't too muc trouble, perhaps I had better be drive bock to tho railroad.'' "Oh. nonsense." says Vanvoorst; an his wife protests also: "You really mus not think of leaving ns ii? that way-i would be treating us badly. Wc hav not so many people staying: here that w can afford to let you off so easily." "But, Mrs. Vanvoorst, remember thc I am here entirely on business-as a soi of private detective-and it would be " fraud for me to remain as a guest." "Not at all; you can assume the chai acter very nicely, Fm sure; and then, with a laugh and turning to leave th ,,/ruom, "you may find something to d - Jfet." "?Io-w so?" . "Possibly Mr?. Mackenzie will resum the flirtation which Misa Mabury un doa bte? ly began at some past period Gooi-by for a while*" and Mrs. Vanvoors goes out of the room, soon followed b her husband, whom stern duty calls; fol ho has taken a fancy to Bloke and is foti to leave him. But he tears himself awaj and Blake finishes the claret? and? ned earing to wander among the revelers t the front of the house, sends the butta . af te:: his hat; and when that wort hyr af ta I one or two mistakes? has got the righi one, he gets ont of the window, and lighting a cigar, prowls around the enc of tho house, and locates himself in a dari corn T of the piazza, where he smoke: contentedly, listens to the music end trien to maize out tho faces of people who etan? out on tho long piazza for ah- or to tall nonsense. It does not scent to be a wildij gay airair, viewed from Blake's stand point, and he is decidedly glad when Miss Stuart finds him out and lets him get bei a chair, and sits talking to him for hall an hour, telling him about the pwrple who are staying at the house, ona put ting him to some trouble by her questions respecting his acquaintance with thc Vanvoorsts, and finally departs to dance with an obnoxious military perso; ; "from the Point," leaving Blake in somewhat better spirits, and with a more extended knowledge of tho peo? ple of the house; also compelling him ic struggle against the idea-present when? ever he talks to Miss. Stuart-that she regards him as a little pleasanter than any ovJter man. And having conquered this notion, he brocea himself up ter en? counter the widow. For from what he knows af her, he is pretty sure that she will toko the initiative. On this occasion sh* is certainly In so bUiry. Blake finishes his cigar, declines to avail himself of the billiard room, de? clines to go to bed-beth* which forms tit entertainment are offered him bv Van? voorst. wbo appears at intervals; finally, after nearly nodding his head off, becomes unconscioua for a orief space. WakUtg? up, he ?nda that lt is half an hour past midnight, and that some of the pw-ple are beginning to drive off. Still, he lights another cigar and leons against one of the pillars of the p?azja. smoking and waiting for Mrs. Mackenzie Is it by accident or design that when that ?ren C??P9S i?no^nt?y out en the piazza-alette, and apparent?? only for frosh air-the..4 die ha>?s" tosido are dancing a wild gallop which ajways makes ?lake think of a certain spring night tu a dull little P*m>yJVania town, some three years ago? Whether it is an accident ul 'or intentional coincidence, certainly Bh.ko is rather taken Ot a disad? vantage when some one says, **J was thinking of von, Mr. Blake." ?nd he turns to find close-'beside him tho faco that made tlatt spring night memorable. ' I ?v,sv thinking o' Y*XX* Blake. Don't you remember that music? Come let us walk down here-I want to talk to you-" They walk to thc end of tho piazza, and stand there silent for a moment, listening to the juusle. which, sentiment apart; sounds better at this distance. Then "sud? denly she puts her hand ou bis arm and says: "What did yon como here for?" "Secauso I was asked," says oar young ?D?U stoutly, hut with his heart in his mouth; but she goes ott Without seeming lo hear him. "Why, when I ara trying to change my life-when I have some chance of s turn, and some chance of making some ene happy and doing a little good-why must i: all*be spoiled, and I-disgraced? Tom, you used to like rae a little. Please please let me alone." Her great eyes are pleading for her; the touch of her hand ou his ann is a gentle petition. "Mv d<*ar Mrs. MacKenzie, how under heaven can I jutorfere with you? What have J done?" "Pone! You have told-or you will tell-tjieso peoplo every thing! And that old man really loves me-ah. dear Tom, don't laugh-there is something good left hi me-he has asked me to marry him, and r?ow vou will ruin me." j . 2J.I Aat '.he deuce eua. I teii about ' ^___---1-?O- "-? - '-V-r?3?S3&&&'~: - Hz?e?e&??i?? you?' cries the bewildered ydung man. "See here-these people asked me if I knew you, and I told them lust this-that yon used to he Laura Mabury; that you used to flirt; that I had forgotten what your marriage name was, and didn't even know until to^nigbi that your husband was dead. Thats all." "That my-husband was-^dea?," sha repeats, looking closely at him1. ' 'Did you tell ttemj tliat?" "They told me rather-.1 never knew it till to-night. You were i?vingV at Wash? ington hist time I heard anything of you." "And didn't you hear^-dldn't Kenneth or* any one write yon afcrat Lieut. Maeken 2icr "Kenneth wrote-ages ago-that you were not-not living together. " "Divorced, you mean"-with a sudden relapse into hardness of face and manner," and in a perfectly quiet, unexcited voice. "Ko, by Jove! be didn't say that. ''What!" a sTtsprcion breaking sharply on,' him; "do rou raetm that Mackensio isn't" AU the calm manner disappears, and again her pleading eyesr?r? dangerously near his face, and with her strong .whito handsome hands she seizes his. "Tom dear old boy-don't betray* me. No"-in, a burriod, low voice, and looking anxiously around-' .no-he is not dead. He s?nica: nw-thc villain! I got a divorce. Oh, Tom, he was a very bad man-ho drank and li3 gambled; he was everything that kbad. Whv? they dismissed him from, the navy. Yes, we were divorced-but he isn't dead. My God* I wish I was. Please, Tom, don't teH them. I did not tell Mr. VanvoOTst at first, and now 1 dare noi. Ob, Tom, promise mo-voa used to like me. and 1 alway?-yes, I dkf I always U-liked you. Don't do me such a bad turn no:/! For heaven's sake, promise mo." "Bot bo- will have to know it some tune. You can't keep such a thing quiet." "Ye*/ yea-I know. But oh, Tom, gfve me a chance! Ill tell him myself. Prom? ise me-please premise me that yo?ll say setting about it" The ycun^ maa stands scooting, angry with Inmseif ai tho position ?e finds himself in. His mission to t5? Vanvoorcts' would be accomplished tuc cessfolly should he uso against lfs? Mackenzie thc weapon which sha herself has put into his hands. But, apart from ber appeal for silence, every instinct tu the man protests against ibis betrayal of a conSdenco-a confidence dado in- bimby a woman, and that woman one whom he "liked a litt?e^onca" So, with only duty, and that not very dearly denned, on the ono hand, and honor. Inclination, and a very handsome woman on tho other, bc is not long in coming ta a conclusion. "Why should I interfere?" be says. '-Moko yourself entirely easy-I promise. " Tko victorious lady thanks bim with an effusiveness whkh rt would be sacrilege to describe wera description possible, and then tbey resume their walk, ft becomes evident that tho elderly lover has disap? peared for the night, and that Mrs. Mac? kenzie, being efl duty, has no objection to' exchanging a few ref reining confidences With ber ow friend, whom she has al way s found amusing, though unprofitable. She drops' tragedy and assumes the- old, sweetly confidential manner. .'Amt what ?uta Mr. Blake been doing with: himself a? these ycarsf . "Mr. Blake bas. 'feen doing a great many things, and alt very bad.*" "Yes, poor boy; goodness wasn't much" in your line when I used to know you, and one don't Improve with ago-does one?" "Yon ceilainry have cot deteriorated" -with a bold, steady took down into ber eves, which meet his half way. Then that glance passes-th afr indescribable challenge which resembles the floorfsh with wb?efc-two fencers ?date each other as they measure the foils. Ho forget? everything bot the face beside Hm; and for the next half hoer they talk that non? sense which seems so clever at them** mart and so silly nest day. Eut th? last carriage roHs os down the drive. andMrSv MarJceutfe develops a regard for the pro? prieties ivfcicb Blake was not fammar with in Letura Mabury, and leaves bim with a most gracious "Good night" and a "long, lingering7* pres? sura of her strong white hand Tu? lights gp out; the bdies trail their toof lengths ol' silk or muslin up tho brav" stairs, and leave the world to darkness' and a ?nat cigar, daring the eonsumgtfoa of which Blake finds the "horsey" talk of Vanvoorst rather monotonous. At length as the big Dutch dock on the staircase, after the usual. preliminary socad of strangulation, strikes $. be- puts out hts; candles, and tumbung into bed. is InSed to sleep, in spite of a remorseful con? science, by tho gentle socad of cain ant? the dreary song of the' tree toads. A beat, 9 o'clock the next morning oar yvenw friend has the boftor ?i S tete-a tete ?aeaK fast with his elderly best? these twwbtsn? t he only ones down at that eariv boor. Mf? Van vo?rst ecavers*? witk a cappy mix? ture of old school dignity and etepbaa-. tine humor much akin to the manner of hts friend the judge; but be is suf? ficiently pleasant to make Blake fed. doubly uncomfortable and guilty, to such an estent that be revolves in bis mind many excusas for going back te> the city in the course of the cay. Break? fast ove*; the senior baa nosiness with bte farmer, and the younger, cigar in month and bands in pockets, stands on the piazsa and looks over a long slope of well kept lawn at the gray stretch of river, lt is a muggy morning* and tho opposite hills are half hidden in mist No rain is falling, but every branch and t wig drips:, with moisture, and the gravel of the drive has that eleen, well washed look that tells of bard rain some time in the right. Mr. Blake finds his surroundings luxu? rious, but not inspiriting, and debates whether be shall be caliea beck te New York by seine bold fiction of forgotten business, or telegram from dying uncle* or whether bo shall honestly but igno? miniously run awuy? and leave tb* sharers of his guilty secret ts explain his ??gbt. Two inSuenees are at work against hi$ going-one, that half acknowledged "softness." as be calla He which makes him Unger in Kate Stuarts quiet pres? ence, whenever be has the chance? fancy? ing that he fceia a better man there Uwt? t?kftfa?tes the otter* a reckless wish to' seo the thing tbrougb, which has its origin in bis Interview with Mrs, Macken? zie. Mrs- Mackenzie has a peculiar effect on most men. inspiring them to do things sometimes bad and generally silly, unite irrespective of their original dispositions' and capacities. She has been known te) make' a mild young clergyman, admirably adajvted to leading a side* in croquet, ann to the social tea and niutfin, forget hts simple pleasures, and sit glowering ta. silence, or opening his mouth only for the utterance of ponderous Johnsonian sar? casms-as soon to ho expected from him as absinthe fawn a cream jug. Not so inconsistent is Blake's final de term inat ion to stay and soe tho game ouV at 'Inch he arriv?s after some minute?\ hard thinkiug. Then with a vast sigbbe sits on the top step of the piazza and" smokes. When does he not sraoket From thc breakfast room now comes ar sound of life, aud presently Mrs. Van-, voorst and Kate Stuart, fresh as only., girls can bo wheo on a summer morning', they come to finish what they bogan tbtjj night before. It, soejns improbable that, either of these ladies' hos any designs ou Blake, however, for after a few original* remarks on the temperatftrc'thcy paee. the piazza and talk about-whist do grrfe talk' to one another about? Sometimes abtat men, it is ?aid. Blake' is not conceited, and concludes that the present conversa? tion has for its subject that moat sacred of all things-clothes. Kot until Mrs.^ Vanvoorst goes into the house to'minister to some very late riser does Mfa? Stuartr vouchsafe to him a word- Then she al-" lows herself t o bo beguiled into a targe chair, whence she gazes" placidly at the. young man before ber, and talks of many things. _ " . . ; COMISUKD 05 roCBTH PAtiS.