THE LEAVENWORTH MURDER

by ANNA KATJIERINE GREEN,

Authoress of

"A Stbasge Disappearance" and

"The Sword of Damocles."

MR. GRYCE ItECKIVES NKW IMPETUS. There's nothing ill Can dvroll in snch v tomple. Tkmpkrt. Tuts astounding discovery, thus made, Vji dreadful to me. It was true then. .Eleanore the beautiful, the lovosome, was —I did not, could not finish the sentence* even in the silence of my own mind.

"You look surprised," mid Mr..Gryce, (■lancing cmioiiHiy towards the key. Now I ain't. A woman does not thrill and blush and equivocate and faint for nothing; especially such a woman as Mian Leaveu worth."

"A woman who could do such a deed would be the last to thrill, equivocate, and faint," retorted I. " (.live me iho key ; lot me sec it"

lie complacently put it in my hand. "It is the one we want," said lie. "JNo getting out of that."

I returned it. "If she declares sho is lunocent, I will believe her," lie stared with great amazement. " You liavo strong faith in the women," laughed ho. " I hope you will live to liud them ■worthy o£ it." I h ad no reply for this, and a short silence ensued, first broken by Mr Gryce. " There U but one thing left to do," said he. " l/obl>«, you will havo to rcqucHt Miss Leaven worth to comedown. Do not alarm her, only see that .sho comes. To the- re ception-room, '' addod he as the man drew off.

Wo sooner wcro wo left alone than I made a movement to return to Mary, but he stopped me. "Come and nee it out," whispered he. " She will be down In a moment: see it out, you hud best*'1 Glancing back, I hesitated ; but thejpros pect of beholding Eleanore again drew mo in spite of myself. Telling him to wait, I returned to Mary's side to make my eX CUSe*.

"What is the matter—what has occur red t" said she breathlessly.

"Notluog as yet to disturb you much. Do not be alarmed." But my face betrayed me.

" Thore is something," said she. " Your cousin is coming down,"

"Down here?" and she shrank visibly. " No, to the recoption-room." "I do not understand. It is all dread* ful.and no one tells m« anything," " Miss Leavenworth," I essayed, " I sray5 ray God there may be nothing to tell, udging from your present faith in your cousin, there will not be. Take comfort, then, and believe that I will inform you if anything occurs which you ought to know.'| Giving her a Joole of reassurance, I loft her crushed agninst the crimson pillows of the sofa on which sho sat, aud rejoined Mi Gryce. We had scarcely ontered the re ception-room, when tleanore Leavenworth came in.

More languid than she was an kour before, but haughty still, she flowly advan oed, aud meeting my eye gently bent her head.

"I have been summoned here," said she, directing herself exclusively to Mr Gryce, "by an individual whom I take to bo in your employ. If so, may I re quest that you will make your wishes known at onco, as I am quite exhausted and am in great need of rest." " Miss Leav»nworrh," returned Mr Gryco rubbing his hands together and staring in quite a fatherly manner at the door-knob, ''I am rery sorry to troublo you, but (he fact is I wish to ask you—" But here sho stopped him. "Anything In regard to tho key which the man has doubtless told you, ho saw mo drop into the ashes ?"

"Yes, Miw."

"Thon I must refuse to answer any questions concerning it. I have nothing to say on tho subject, unless it is this;' —giving him a look full of sutfering but full of a certain sort of courage too— "that he was right, if he told you I had the key in hiding about my person, aad that I attempted to conceal it in the ashes of the grate."

"Still, Miss—" But she had already withdrawn to the door. "I pray you to excuse me," said ahc, "ft o argument you could advance would make any difference in my determination, therefore it would be but a ■waste of energy on your part to attempt any." And -with a flitting glance in my direction, that was not without its appeal, she quietly left the room. l«'or a moment Mr Gryce stood gazing after her with a look of great interest, then bowing almost to tho ground in his homage, he hastily followed her out. I had scarcely recovered from the surprise occasioned by this unexpected movement, vrben a quick step was heard in the hall, and Mary, Hushed and anxious, appeared at my side. "What is it?" said sho. "What has Eleanore been saying 1"

"Alas !" I answered, "she has not said anything. That is the trouble, Miss Leavenworth. Your couein preserves a reticence upon certain points that is very painful to witness. She ought to under stand that if she persists in doing this, that—"

'' That what ? " There was no mistaking the fearful anxiety that prompted this question. " That she cannot avoid the treuble that willeasue." l<'or a moment she stood gazing at me ■with great horror-stricken, incredulous eyes ; then sinking back into a chair, Hung her hands over her face with the cry, " Ob, why were we over born! Why were we allowed to live ! Why did we not perish with those wbq gave us birth ! " In the face of anguish like this, I could not kcop still, "Dear Miss Leavenworth," I essayed, "there is no cause for such despair as this. The future looks dark, but not impene trable. Your cousin will listen to reason, and in explaining—" " But she, deat to my words, had again risen to her feet and stood before me in an attitude almost appalling. "Some women in my position would go mad ! " she whispered, "mad, mad ! "

I looked at her with growing wonder. I thought I knew what she meant. She con ceived that she had given us the cue,' which had led to this suspicion of her cousin, and that in this way the trouble which hung over their heads was of her own making, I endeavoured jto soothe her, but my efforts were all unavailing. Absorbed in her own anguish, she paid but little attention to me. Satisfied at last that I could do nothing more for her, I turned to go; the move ment seemed to arouse her.

" I am sorry to leave," said I, " without having afforded you any comfort. Believe

me that I am very anxious to assist you. Is there no one 1 can send to your side ; no woman friend or relative ? It is sad to leave you alone in this house at such a time." ... "Ami do you suppose, said she, that 1 intend remainiDE here 1 Why, I should die. Here to-night ? " and the long shud ders shook her very frame. "It i« not at all necessary," broke in a bland voice over our shoulders, " that yon should do so, Miss Leaven worth." 1 turned with a start. Mr Gryce was not only at our back, bin had evidently boon there for some moment!!. Seated in an easy chair near the door, one hand in his pocket, the other caressing the arm of hit cluir, lie met our gaze with a sidelong smile that seemed at once to bog pardon for the intrusion, and to assure us that it was made with no un worthy motive. " Everything will bo pro po'ly looked aftor, Miss ; you can leave with perfect .safety." I expected to see her resont tins uiterfor. once, but instead of that she manifested a certain satisfaction in beholding him there. Drawing mo to one side she whispered, " You think this Mr. Gryce very clever, do you not ?" " Well," replied I cautiously, "he ought to be to hold the position lie does. _ 'flic authorities evidently repose great confidence in him." Stepping from my side as suddenly as she had approached it, fhe crossed the room and stood uefore Mr. Gryce. "Sir," said i-he, eaz'ng at him with a glance of entreaty, " 1 hear that you have great talents ; that you can ferret out the real criminal from a score of doubtful charac tors, and that nothing can OBcapo the pene tration of your eye. If this is so, havo pity on two orphan girls suddenly bereft of their guardian and protector, and use your ac knowloilged skill in linding out who has committed this crime. It would be folly in mo to endeavour to hide from >ou that my cousin in her testimony has givon cause for suspicion ; but I hero declare that I believe her to be as innocent of wrong as I am my solf, and I am ouly endeavouring to turn the eye of justice from the guiltless to the guilty, when I entreat you to look elsewhere for the culprit who committed this deed." Pausing, she held her two hands out before him. "It must havo be*n some common burglar or desperado; can you not bring him. then, to justice?"

Her attitude was so touching, her whole appearance no earnest aud appealing, that I saw Mr. Gryco's countenance brim with suppressed emotion, though his eye never left the coffee-urn upon which it had lix«d itself at her first approach. •' Yon must find out—you can," she wont on—" Hannah, the girl who is gone, must know all about it. Search for her, then, ransack the world, do anything; my pro perty is at your disposal. I will offer a large reward,'|for the detection of the burglar who did this deed."

Mr. Gryre slowly rose. " Miss Leaven worth." said he, and then btopped ; the man was actually agitated. " Miss Leavenworth, 1 did not noea your very torching >npeal to incite me to my utmost duty in this case. Personal and professional pride wcro in themselres sufficient. But since you hare honoured me with this expression of your wishes, I will uot conceal from you, that I shall feel a certain increased interest in the affair from this hour. What mortal man can, I will do, and if in one month from this day I do not come to you for my reward, Ebcnezer Gryce is not the individual I have always taken him to be."

"And Eleanore?" "We will mention no names," said he, gontly waving his head to and fro.

A few minutes later I left the house with Miss Lwvonwortb, she having testified her wish that I would accompany her to the home of her friend Mrs Gilbert, with whom she had decided to take refuge. As we rolled away in the carriage Mr Gryce had been, kind enough to provide for us, I not iced my companion cait a look of regret behind her, as if she could not help feeling some compunctions at this desertion of her cousin. But this expression was soon changed for the alcrtlook of one who dreads to see a certain face start up from some unknown quarter. Glancing up and and down the »treet, peering furtively into doorways as wo passed, statting and trem bling if a sadden figure appeared on the curbstone, she did not seem to breathe with perfect ease, till wo had left tho avenue behind u» and cntcrod upon Thirty, seventh Street. Then all at once her natu ral colour returned andlcaning gently toward .me she asked if I had a pencil and piece of paper I could give her. I fortunately possessed both. Handing them to her, I watched her with tome little cariosity, whilo she wrote two or three lines, wonder ing why she should choose such a time and place for the purpose. " A little note i wish to send," she re marked, glancing at the almost illogiblo scrawl with an expression of doubt. " Couldn't yon stop the carriage a moment while I direct it ?" I did so, and in another instant the leaf which I had torn from my was folded, directed, and scaled with a stamp which she had taken from her own pocket book. " That is a crazy looking epistle," the murmured, as she' laid it, direction down ward.", in her lap. " Why not wait, thon," I sugorestcd, " till you arrive at your destination, where you can seal it properly, and direct it at your leisure t" " Because lam in haste. I wish to mail it now. Look, there in a box on the cor ner ; please ask the to stop once more." " Shall I not post it for you ?" I asked, holding out my hand. But she shook her head, and without waiting for my assistance, opened the door on her own eidc of the carriage and leaped to the ground. Even then she paused to glance up and down the street, before ven turing to drop it into the box. But when it was done sue looked brighter and more hopeful than I had yet seen her. And whe n in a few moments later she turned to bid me good-bye in front of her friend's house, it was with almost a cheerful air she put out her hand and entreated me to call on her the next day and inform hei how the inquest progressed. I shall not attempt to disguise from you the fact that I spent all that long evening in going over the testimony given at the inquest, endeavouring to reconcile what I had heard with any other theory than that of Eleanore's guilt. Ta«ing|a piece of paper I jotted down the leading causes of suspi« cion as follows :

1. Her late disagreement with her uncle, and evident estragement from him, as tes tified to by by Mr Harwell. 2. The mysterious disappearance of one of the servants of the house.

3. The forcible accusation of her cousin, —overheard, however, only by Mr Gryce and myself.

4. Her equivocation in regard to that handkerchief of hers, found stained with pistol emut on the scene of the tragedy, 5. Her refusal to speak in regard to that paper 'which she was supposed to have taken from Mr Leavenworth's table; immediately npon the removal of the body. 6. The finding of the library key in her possession, " A dark'record," I involuntarily cried •3 I looked it over, but eveu in doing so

began jotting down on the other side of the sheet the following explanatory notes : 1. Disagreements and even estrangements between "relatives are common. Cases where such disagreements and estrange have led to crime, rare. 2. The disappearance of Hannah pointed no more in one direction than another. 3. If Mary's private accusation of her cousin was forcible and convincing, her public declaration that she neither knew nor suspected who might be the author of this crime, wss equally so. To be sure the former possessed the advantage of being uttered spontaneously, but it was likewise true ttiut it was spoken under momentary excitement, without any fore flight of the consequences, and possibly without due consideration of the facts.

4, An innocent man or woman, under the influence of terror, will often equivocate in ropard to mattera that acem to criminate them.

But the key ! What could I say to that ? Nothing. With that key iv her possession and unexplained, Klcanore Leaveoworth stood in an attitude ot suspicion, which even I, who was so adverse to bcliening her guilty, was forced to recognise. Brought to this point, I thrust the paper into my pocket and took up the "Express.'' In stantly my eye fell on these words :

SHOCKING MURDER.

MR LKA.VENWOUTH.THE WELL-KNOWN MILLIONIAKK. FOUND DEAD IN HIS ROOM.

NO CLUE TO THK PERPETRATOR OF THE DEED.

THE AWI'UI, CRIME COMMITTED WITH A PISTOL-

EXTHAOItMN'AUY FKATUHK3 Of THE AWAIK,

All! here at least was one comfort; her name was not yet mentiened 38 that of a suspected (party. But what (might not the morrow bring? 1 thought of ivlr Gryce's expressive look as he handed me that key, and shuddered. , "She must be innocent; she cannot be otherwise," I reiterated to myself, and theu pausing, asked what warranty I had :of this ? urily her beautiful face ; only, ; only her beautiful face, Abashed, I drop ! ped the newspaper, and went down stair* with the wild idea, I believe, of encounter ing on the stoop the telegraph boy, whom I expected every moment with a message from Mr Veelcy. By some great good for tune I did, and taking the telegram from his hand, I opened it on the door-step. It was from the proprietor of the hotel at which Mi Vceley was then stopping, and ran thua: Washington, D. C, Mr Everett Raymond— Mr Veeley is lying at my house ill. Have not "shown him telegram, fearing results. Will do so as soon as advisable. Thomas Loworthy. I went in musing. Why this sudden sensation of relief on my part ? Could it be that I had unconsciously been guilty ef cherishing a latent dread of my senior'™ , return ? M hy, who else could know so i well the secret springs which governed this family ? Who elso could so effectually put me upon the right track ? Was it possible that I, Everett Raymond, hesitated to know the truth in any caee ? No, that should never be said; and sitting down ' again, 1 drew ont the memoranda I had made, and looking them carefully over, wrote against No. 8 the word SUSPICIOUS in good round characters. There Iho one could say. after that, I was a man to bo blinded by a bewitching face ; from seeing what, in one with no claims to comeliness, would be considered at once an indubitable evidence of guilt. > And yet after it was all done, I found my»elf repeating aloud as I gazed at it, "Jfshe declares that she is innocent, I will believe her." So completely are we the creatures of our own predilections.

XI. THE SUMMONS.

The pink of courtesy.

Komeo and Juliet. The morning papers contained a more de tailed account of the murder than those of the evening before. Reading over the evid ence given at the inquest with almost feverish baste, I sought tor the one thing I most dreaded to see; but it was nottheie. Hannah, the seamstress and lady's maid, whose remarkable disappearance was as yet unaccounted for, was mentioned as the pos sible accomplice of the murderer, if not so much as hinted at in this connection.

The final paragraph in the " Times " ran thus :

"The detectives are upon the track of the missing girl." And in the " Herald " I read the following notice: A Liberal Reward will be given by the relatives of Horatio Leavcnworth, Esq. de ceased, for any news of the whereabouts of one Hannah Chester, disappeared from the house .Fifth Avenue since the evening of March 4. Said girl was of Irish extraction; in age about twenty-fire, and niay be known by the following character istics : Form tall and slender; hair dark brown with a tinge of red; complexion fresh ; features delicate and well made; hands small but with the fingers much pricked by the use of the needle ; feet large and of a coarser type than the hands. She had on when last seen a checked gingham dress, brown and white, and was supposed to have wrapped herself in a red and green blanket shawl very old. ' Besides the above distinctive marks, she had upon .her right hand wrist the scar of a large burn; also a pit or two of small-pox upon the left tenE pic. This paragraph turned my thoughts in a new direction. Oddly enough I had ex pended very little thought upon this girl, and yet how apparent it was that she was the one upon whose testimony, if given, the whole case in reality hinged. I could not agree with those who considered her as personally implicated in the murder. An accomplice, conscious of what was before her, would have stopped to put what money she had into her pocket before engaging in such an enterprise, and this the inspection of her trunk had proved her not to have done. But if,' on the contrary, sho had unexpectedly come upon the assassin at his work, how could she have been hustled from the house without creating a disturb ance loud enough to have been heard by the ladies, one of whom bad her door open? A n innocent girl's first impulse upon such an occasion would have been to scream, nnd yet no scream was heard; she simply dis appeared. What were we to think then? That the person seen by her was one both known and trusted ? I would not consider that possibility, so laying down the paper, I endeavoured to put away all further con sideration of the affair till I had acquired more facts upon which to base a theory. But who can control his thoughts when over-excited upon any one theme ? All the morning 'I found myself turning the case over in my mind, arriving at one of two conclusions. Hannah Chester must be found, or Eleanore Leaven worth must explain when and by what means the key of the library door came into her possession. At two o'clock I started from my office to attend the inquest, but being delayed on

the way, missed arriving at the house until after the delivery of the verdict. This was a disappointment to me.especially as I thus lost the opportunity of seeing Eleanore Leavenworth, she having retired to her room immediately upon the dismissal of the jury. But Mr Harwell was visible, and from him I heard that the verdict had been, "Deathby means of a pistol-shot from the bands ot some person unknown."

This result of the inquest was a great relief to me. I had feared worse. Nor could I help seeing that, for al/ his studied self-command, the pale-face d secretary shared in my satisfaction. What was less of a relief to me was the fact, soon communicated, that Mr Gryce. and hia subordinates had left the premiss immediately upon the delivery of the ver dict. Mr Gryco was not the man to for sake an affair like this, while anything of importance connected with it remained un explained. Could it be he meditated any • decisive action ">. Somewhat alarmed, I was about to hurry from the house for the purpose of learning what his intentions were, when a sudden movement in the front lower window of the house on tbe opposite side of the way, arrested ray nttention, and looking closer I detected the face of Mr Fobbs peer ing out from behiod the curtain. Thesight assured me I was not wrong in my eatma'e of Mr Gryce ; and struck with pity for the desolate girl left to meet the exigencies of a fate, to which this watch upon her movements was but the evident precursor, I rtepped back and sent her a note, in which, as Mr Veeley's representative, I proffered my services in cage of any sudden emergency, saying I was always to be found between the hours of six and eight. * This done, I proceeded to the houeo in Thirty -1 flcveoth street where I had left Miss Mary Leavenworth the day before. . '-But#cfe|F ~j« Ushered into the long and narrow draw ing-room which of late years has been so fashionable in our up-town houses, I found myself almost immediately in the presence of Misn Leavenworth. "Oh,"said she with an eloquent cry of welcome, "I had begun to think I wa9 for saken ;" and advancing impulsively, she held out her hand. " What is the news from home ?' " A verdict of murder, Mies Leaven -1 worth," Her eyes did not lose their question. "Perpotrated by a party or parties un known. A look of relief broke softly across her features. "And they are all gone?" exclaimed she in a bright, keen way, that showed me how animated fihe must hare been in, former days. " I found no one in the house that did not belong there," I returned. "O then we need have no more trouble, noed we!" I glanced hastily up aha down the room "There is no one here," she cried. And still X hesitated. At length in an awkward way enough, I turned towards her and said : " I do not wish either to offend or to alarm you, but I must say that I think it is your ' duty to return to your own home to-night." '' Why T" she stammered. '' Is there any particular reason for my doing so ? Do you not know that I cannot be in tbe same house with Eleanore?" "I do not know that, nor can I stop to consider the question. She is your cousin, has been brought up to regard you asa sister; it is not worthy of you to desert her io the time of her necessity. You will see it as I do, if you will allow yourself a moment's dispassionate thought." " Dispassionate thought is hardly possible under the circumstances," returned sne with a smile of bitter irony. But before I could reply to this, she | softened and asked if I was very aoxious abe should return, and when I replied II More so than I could say." trembled and looked for a moment as if she were half in clined to yield, but suddenly broke into tears, crying it was impossible, and that I was cruel to ask it. I drew back baffled and sore. " Pardon me," said I, ''I have indeed transgressed the bounds allotted to me. I will not <3o so again ; you have doubtless many f liends, let some of them advise you." She turned upon me all fire. " The friends you speak" of would cringe and bow and urge me to do as I please. You alone have the courage to command me to do what is right." "Excuseme," said I. "I do not com maud ; I only entreat." She made no reply, but began pacing the room, her eyes fixed, her hands working ! convulsively. " You little know what you ask," said she. " I feel as though the very atmosphere of that house would destroy me, b u t—Why cannot Eleanore come here?" she suddenly inquired. "I know Mrs. Gilbert will be quite willinp, and I could keep my room, and we need not meet."

" Yon forget there is another call at home, besides tbe one I hare already mentioned. To-morrow afternoon your uncle is to be buried."

" 0 yes; poor, poor uncle '." 11 You are the head of the household," I now ventured, "and the proper one to attend to the final offices towards one who has done so much for you."

Tbere was something strange in the look which she save me. "It is true," she mur mured. Then with a grand turn of her body and a quick air of determination, "I am desiroas of being worthy of your good opinion ; I will go back to my cousin, Mr. Raymond." 1 felt my spirits rise a little ; I took her by the hand. "May that cousin have no need of the comfort which I am now sure you will not shrink from giving her if neces sity calls." Her hand dropped from mine. " I moan to do my duty'" she responded.

As 1 descended the stoop. I met a cer tain th:n and fashionably dressed, young man, who gave me a very sharp look as he passed. As ho wore his clothes a little too conspicuously for the perfect gentleman, and as I had some remembrance of having seen him at the inquest, I set him down for a man in Mr Gryce's employ, and has tened on towards the avenue ; when what was my surprise to find on the corner an other person, who, while pretending to be on the look-out for a car, cast upon me. as I approached, a glance of intense inquiry. As this latter was undoubtedly a gentle man, I felt some annoyance, and walking quietly up to him, asked if he found my countenance familiar that lie scrutinised it so closely I

"I find it a very agreeable one," he re turned, and bowing with a Chesterfieldian grace, walked from me down the avenue.

Irritated and a trifle ashamed, I stood for a nioment watching him, trying to deter mine who and what he might be. For he was not only.a gentlemen, but a marked one : possessing features of extraordinary beauty as well as a form of great elegance. Not so very youn?, having seen, as I should judge, full forty years of mingled pleasure and disappointment, he still bore the impress of youth's strongest emotions, not a curve of his chin nor a glance of his eye betraying in any way the slightest leaning towards ennui, though face and figure were of that type which seems most to invite and cherish it,

" He can have no connection with the police force," thought I; " nor is it by any means certain that he knows me, or is iv«

terested in my affairs, but I shall jiofc soon forget him for all that." The summons from Eleanore Leaven, worth came about eight o'cloekm the even, ing. It was brought by Thomas, and;*ead as follows:. " Come, 0 come; I-" there breakingof in a tremble, as if the pen had fallen from a nerveless hand. i ■ Itdid>ot take me long to find my way Ito her home. - N

xir. BLEANOBE,

Constant you are— • •"• And for secrecy No lady closer.

—Henry IV.

No, 'tis slander, Whoso edge is sharper than tho sword wW tongrue ™: Outvenoma all tho -worms of Nile. —CrMBELINE ;; The door was opened by Molly, "Yn will find Miss Eleanore in the dra^. room, sir," she said, ushering me in. V; ' ■ Fearing I knew not what, I hurried tofto room thus indicated, feeling as never befoij the sumptuousness of the magnificent hall with itr antique flooring, carved woodsaafl bronze ornamentations :—the niockery j{ things for the first time forcing itself npon E me. Laying my hand on tho drawing-roon door, I listened. AH' was silent. Slowly pulling it open, I lifted the heavy satin en/ tains hanging before me to the floor; aai looked within. "What a picture met W eyes! / Sitting in the light of a solitary gas-ijt whose faint glimmering just served to maW 1 visible the glancing satin and stabler I marble of the gorgeous apartment, I beheld' Eleanore Leavenwenh. Pale as the scnln. •■< tured image of the Psyche that to»3 above her from the mellow dunk of theW. window near which she sat, beautiful sift; and almost as immobile, she crouched^ rigid hands frozen in forgotten entreaty before her, apparently insensible to, aonai movement or touch ; a silent figure of d» pair in presence of an implacable fate. \ Impressed by the scene, I stood witibnv hand upon the curtain, hesitating if |J : advance or retreat, when suddenly a Bharn tremble shook her impassive frame, thj ! rigid hands unlocked, the stony eyes softened, and springing to her feet, ahe uttered a cry of satisfaction, and advanced / towa'da me. '' Miss Leavenworth !" exclaimed l,Btufr ing at the sound of my own voice. She paused and pressed her hands to her face, as if the woifd and all that she hid forgotten had rushed back upon her atthij simple utterance of her name, " Whatiait?"askedL Her hands fell heavily. "Do you not koow!" she cried. "They—they ate beginning to say that I—" she paused md clutched her throat. " Read," she inn. mured, pointing to a newspaper lyineoi the floor at her feet. , 4 / r I stooped and lifted what showaf/feaff at first glance to be the " Evening Tele, gram." It needed but a siagle look to in. form me to what she referred. There, in startling characters, I beheld.

THE LEAVENWORTH MURDER.

LATEST DEVELOPMENTS IN THE MSB. TEtvIOUS CASE.

A MEMBER OF THE MURDERED MANS , OWN FAMILY STRONGLY SUSPECTED OP . THE CRIME. THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN NEW IOBK UNDER A CLOUD. PAST HISTORY OF MISS ELEANORS lE4VBW- ~ WORTH. . ,•- , li: -.... ■".' ■;- .• I was prepared for it; had schooled my-' self for this very thing, you might say; and yet I could not help recoiling. Drop- , ". Eing tbe paper from my hand,l stcodbefore er, longing and yet dreading tolookiato her f»ce. ■ V "What doeß it mean?" she gasped, ro " what, what does it mean ? Is the world mad?" and her eyea, fixed andjgl&tty, stared into mine as if she found it impossi ble to grasp the sense of this outrage. I shook my head, I could Dot reply. "To accuse me," she murmured ;,'f me, ;;s me," striking her breast with her clenched hand; "who loved the very ground he troi upon, who would have cast my own body . between him and tbe deadly bullet if I had only known his danger. Oh," cried she, " it is not a slander they utter, but a dag ger which they thrust into my heart." . Overcome by this, but determined not to shew my compassion until more thoroughly convinced of her complete innocence,!* plied, after a pause: ,', ; , , "This seems to strike you with great surprise, Miss Leavenworth; were yon not ;■; able to foresee what must follow your deter- , mined reticence upon certain points t, Did ? ..:,. you know so little of human nature as to ' imagine that, situated as you are,you conld ' keep silence in regard to any matter Mn».'; i nected with this crime, without aroußng ■ - the antagonism of the crowd,to say nothing of the suspicions of the police?" '.■■' "But—but—" I hurriedly waved my hand, " WbW ; you defied the coroner to find any suspicion* ' paper in your possesrion; when—" Iforced ■ myself to speak—"you refused to tellMr .• j tirycehowyou came in possession of; tns key—" She drew hastily back, a heavy jwllseeni" | ing to fall over her with my words. "m. "Don't," she whispered, looking"about ~*" her agonizedly. "Don't! sometimes I think the walls have ears, the very sliadows seem to listen." ,- : ' " Ah," returned I, " do you then hope to keep from the world, what is known to tie detectives V' She did not answer. " Miss Leavenworth," Iwenton, lam afraid that you do not comprehend yonr position. Try to look at the.case for,3 moment in the light of an uriprejndicea v person, try to see for yourself the necessity *■ . t> > of explaining—" , "Butl cannot explain,"shemnnnttrea : huskily. ~ ~(, , , : ,\ '■.. "Cannot!" . -*ii ■ r' : I do not know whether it was the tone 01 X my voice or the word itself, butthesinrpie expression seemed to affect herlike.a Mow upon her face, .. ■■,'„• „ ••■ "01" she cried, shrinking back, yon do not, cannot doubt me too? I f^ that you—'1 a,nd stopped. " I did not dreaai that I—" and stopped again, SuddcnWr _ whole frame quivered. '"O^f'fmm murmured, "you have mistrusted i"e{™™ 4( Hie first; the appearances against me wm been too strong; and she sank wert, was in the depths of her shame andbunuliatton; "Ah, but now I am forsaken!" sjK w* mured. Qtartid? The appeal went to my heart «w*"S* forward, I exclaim-d, "Miss Leave^S lam but a man; I cannot see you so j. tressed. Say that you are innocent, anu will believe you, without regard to app^ fringing erect, she towered upong "Can any one look in my face and aM^ , me of guilt ?" Then as i aadly, d»*g head, she hurriedly gasped, 'lf^. further proof!" and quivenng hto m • denly awakened deer, she Sprang w door. .-. ./,:■..;,!' >■< •J';*:'!'l' •":;.ir''v;

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, JULY 29, 1882.