THE LEAVENWORTH MURDER

BY &NNA KATMERXNE GREEN,

AutXorejs of

"A STKANGK DISAI'I'KAUANCE " AND

"TIIK SWOttD OK JUIUOCI.KS."

XII l. TUB I'KOIII.KM.

Hut who would force the soul, tills with a straw Ai.'iunal a champion cased iv adamant, W'OKDSWOI'.TII. When we re-entered Ihe parlour bolow,tho first sight that mot our eyes was Mary, Standing wrapped in her long clonk in the centre of Iho room. She had arrived during our absence, and now awaited us with lifted head and countenance fixed in its proudest expression. Looking in her face, I realised what the embarrassment of this meeting must bo to these women, but something in the attitude of Mary Leaven worth seemed to forbid my doing so. At tue same time, determined that tho oppor tunity should not pass without some sort ofreeoncilemciit between (hem, 1 stepped forward, anil bowing to Mary, said,— " Yniir cousin has just succeeded in doing what you have expressed yourself so desirous of accomplishing, Miss heaven worth : convinced me of her entire inno cence in regard to this whole matter. lam now ready to join Mr Gryccheart ami .soul, in finding out the true culprit." " I should have though that it would have been sufficient lor any one to have looked Eleanore Leavenworth in the face, tn know her guiltless of crime." And lifting Iter head with 'a proud gesture, she fixed her eyes steadfastly on miue. I felt the blood Hash to my brow, but before I could speak, her voice rose again, still more [coldly than before. " It is hard for a ileliote girl, reared in the lap of love and luxury, unused to aught but adulation and sinccrcst expressions of regard, lo be obliged to assure the world of her innocence in respect to the committal of a great crime. Elcanoro lias my sym pathy." And sweeping her cloak from her shoulders with a quick gesture, she turned her gaze for the first time upon her cousin, Instantly Elcanoro advanced as if to meet it, and I could not [but feel tha', for somu reason, this moment possessed an impor tance tor them, which 1 was scarcely com petent to mcas.re. But if 1 found myself unable to realise its significance, I at least responded to its intensity. And indeed it was an occasion to romcmbei. To have beheld two such women, either of whom must have been considered the model of her time, face to face and drawn up in evident antagonism, would have been a sight to move the dullest sensibilities. But there was something more in it than that. It was Iho shock of all tho most passionate emotions of tbe human soul; the meeting of waters of whose depth and force I could only guess by the effect. Elcanoro was the first to recover. Drawing back with {lie cold haughtiness which alas, I bad al most forgotten in the display of later ami softer emotions, she exclaimed— "There is something better than sym pathy, and that is justice ;" aud turned as if to go. "I will confer with you in the rcccDtiou-room, Mr Roymnnd." But Mary springing forward, euight her back with ono powerful haod. " No," she cried, " you shall confer witli mc; I have something to say to you, Eleanore Leaven worth." And taking her stand in the contre of the room, she waited. I glanced at Eleanore, saw this was no place for me, and hastily withdrew. For ten long minutes I paced the lloor of tbe reception room, a prey to a thousand doubts and conjectures. What wit* the secret of this home ? What had given rise to the deadly mistrust continually manifested betweou thcs« cousins fitted by nature for the completest companionship and the most Cordial friendship ? It was not a thing of to-day or yesterday. No 'sudden flame could awake such concentrated heat of emo tion as that of which I had just been tho unwilling witness. One must go further back than this murder to find the root of < l mistrust bo great, that tho struggle it caused made itself felt oven where I stood, though nothing but the faintest murmur came lo my cars through tbccloHed doors. Presently the drawing-room curtain was raised, and Mary's voice was heard in distinct articulation. " The same roof can never shelter us both after this. To-morrow, you or I find another home." And blushing and panting she stepped into the hall and advanced to where 1 stood. But at tbe first si«ht of my face, a clunge camo over her; all her pride seemed to dissolve, and flinging out her hands as if to forbid mo to look, she lied from my side, nnd rushed weeping upstairs. I was yet labouring under the oppression caused by this painful termination of tbe strange scene, when the parlour curtain was agai'i lifted, and Eleanore entered the room where I was. Pale but calm, shewing no evidences of the struggle she had just been through, unless it was a little extra weariness about the eyes, she sat down by my fide, presenting such a con trasted picture to herself as seen by mc upon my first entrance, that I could only look aud marvel. Whether it was, that with the consciousness one soul thoroughly be lieved in her, she had received a fresh influx of strength,or whether it wits, that in her interview with tbo dead she bad found a new endurance and patience, I cannot say ; I only know that a new creature confronted me now, a resigned, earnest and forbearing woman, who might be called upon to endure iimomiuy, hut who feH and was determined that others should feel it was an ignominy brought about by circumstances; a con comitant of her fate, and not a thing that tainted hoy spirit or touched her soul:—as a great queen overcome by the force of a brutish conqueror, might submit her arms to the chains, without feeling_herself less a queen and great, because the iron of a base victor ground itself into her flesh. Meeting my gaze with one unfathomable in its courage, she said after a pause — " Tell me where I stand; let mc know the worst at once ; I fear that I have not indeed comprehended my own position." Rejoiced to hear her say this, I hastened to comply.. I began by placing before her. the whole caso as it appeared to an unpre judiced person; enlarged upon the causes of suspicion, aud pointed out in what re gard some things looked dark against her, which perhaps to her own mind were easily explainable and of small account; tried to make her see theimportancc of her decision, and finally wound np with an appeal. Wonld she not confide in mc ? "But I thought you were satisfied?" she inquired trembling. " And so I am ; but I am but one, and I want the whoU world to view you as I do." " I fear that can never be," she said sadly. " The finger of suspicion never for gets the way it has once pointed. My name ■ is tainted forevor."

•'And you will submit to this when a •word—"

"lain thinking thot any word of mine now, would make very little difference," she murmured. I looked away, the vision of Mr. Eobb.s in hiding behind the curtains of the opposite house, recurring painfully to my mind. "If the affair looks as bad as you inti mate," pursued she, " it is scarcely pro bable that Mr. Oryco will euro much for any interpretation of mine in regard to tiie matter." "Mr. Oryco would be glad to know where you procured that, key, if only to a-sist him iv turning hii inquiries in the right direction." She did not reply, and a weight settled agaiu upon my heart, " It in worth your while to satisfy him, I pursued : "and though it may compromise some one you desire lo shield—" She rose, a light flaming suddenly acros* her face "I shall nc»er divulge to any one how 1 came in possession of that hoy." And sitting again, she locked her bands in lixed icsolvo before her. I rose iv my turn and paced the floor, the fang of a deadly serpent striking deep down into my heart. "Mr. Raymond!' if the worst should come, and all who love mo should plead on bended knees for mo to tell, 1 should never do it." "Then," said I, determined not lo dH. close my secret thought, but equally re solved to find out if possible her motive for this silence, " you desire to defeat the cau-e of justice." She neither spoke nor moved. '•Miss Leavenworth," I now said, "this deterinini'd shielding of another at the ex pense of your own good mum. is no doubt generous of you, but your friends and the lovers of truth and justice cannot accept such a sacrifice." She stinted haughtily. " Sir !" she said. "If you will not assi-t us," I went on calmly*but determinedly, "we must do without your aid. That you were the adopted child of Mr. Vcoley's friend, would have been sufficient lo have nerved me to exert myself to the utmost to clear your name from the shadows enveloping it ; but after the scene I have just witnessed above; after the triumphant assurance which you have forced upon me, not only of your innocence, but your horror of the crime and its consequences, I should feci myself less than a man, if 1 did not sacrifice even your own good opiuiou in urging your cause, and clearing your character from this foul as persion." Again that heavy silence. " What do you propose to do?" she asked at last. Crossing tho room, I stood before her. " I propose," said I, "to relieve you utterly and forever from suspicion, by finding out and revealing to the world the true cul prit." I expected to see her recoil, so positive had I become by this time as to who that culprit was. Hut instead of that, she merely folded her hands still more tightly aud exclaimed : — "I doubt if you will be able lo do that, Mr Raymond." " Doubt if I will be able to put my lin ger upon the guilty man, or doubt if I will be able to bring him to justice ? " "I doubt," she said with strong effort, "if anyone over knows who is the guilty person in this ca3e." "There is one who knows," I said with a desire to test her. " One ?" " The girl Hannah is acquainted with tbe mystery of that night's evil doings, Miss Leavenworth. Find Hannah, and wc find one who can point out to ns the assassin of your uncle." •'That is mere supposition," she said; but I saw the blow bad told. " Your cousin has offered a large reward for the girl, and Hie whole country is on the look-out. Within a week wc shall sec her iv our midst." A change took place in her expression and bearing. " The girl cannot help mc," she said. Bullied by her nianuer.l drew hack. "Is there anything or anybody that can! " She slowly looked away. "Miss Leavenworth," I continued with renewed earnestness, "you have uo brother to plead with you, you have no mother to guide you, let mc then mtrcat in default of nc irer and dearer friends, that you will rely sufficiently upon mc to tell mc one thing?" " What is it ? " she asked. " Whether you took tho paper imputed to you from tho library table." «lie did not instantly rcspon I, but sat looking,e»rncstly before hor with an intent noss which seemed to argue that she was weighing the question as well ai her reply. Finally turning towards me, she Eaid, "lii nnswcriug you, I speak iv confi dence. Mr Raymond, I did." Crushing back tho sigh of despair that arose to my lips, I went on. " I wiU not iuquire what tho paper was," she waved her hand deprecatingly—" hut this much more you will tell mc. Is that paper still in existence ?" She looked me steadily in the face. "It is not." . I could with difficulty forbear showing my disappointment. " Miss Leavenworth, ' I now said, " it may seem cruel for mo to press you at this time ; nothing lean than my strong realisation of the peril in which you stand, would induce mo to run the risk of incurring your displeasure, by asking what under other circumstances would seem puerile snd insulting questions. You have told me one thing which I strongly desired to know, will you also inform mc what it was you heard that night while sitting in your room, between the time of Mr. Har well's going np stairs and the closing of the library door of which you mado mention at tho inquest?" I had pushed my inquiries too far, and I saw it immediately. "Mr. Raymond," she returned, "in fluenced by my di-sirc not to appear utterly ungrateful to you, I have been led to reply in confidence to one of your urgent appeals, but I can go no further. Do not ask me then." Stricken to the heart by her look of re proach, 1 answered with s-omo sadness that her wishes should be respected. " Not but what I intend to make every effort in my power to discover the true author of this crime," said I," that is a sacrod duty which I feel myself called upon to perform ; but I will ask you no more questions nor urge auy further appeal upon you. What Is done shall be Accomplished without your assistance, and if I succeed in what I here undertake, I will ask for no further reward than this : that you will then acknowledge what you must now believe, my motives to have been pure aud my action disin terested." " I am ready to acknowledge that to-day," she began, hut paused and looked with almost agonized entreaty in my face. '' Mr. Raymond, cannot you leave things as they arc? Won't you? I don't ask for assis tance, nor do I want it; I would rather—" But I would not listen. "Guilt has no light to profit by the generosity of *he guiltless. The hand that struck this blow shall not be accountable for the loss of a noble woman's honour and happiness as well. I shall do what I can, Miss Leaven worth.'' As I walked down the avenue that night, feeling like an adventurous traveller that in a moment of desperation has set his foot > upon a plank stretching in narrow perspec

tive over a chasm of immeasurable depth, tliis problem evolved itself from the shadows before me.

llow, with no other clue than the per suasion that Heanoie Leavenworth was engaged in shielding another at the expense of hor own good name, I was to combat tho prejudices or Mr. Grycß, find out the real assassin of Mr, Leavenworth, and free an innocent woman from the suspicion that had, not without some show of reason, fallen upon her?

BOOK 11,

HENRY CLAVERING.

XIV.

7>lK OItYCES AT HOME,

Nay, but hour mo. —Mk_suuk I'Oll Mkasuuic. That tho guilty person for whom Eleanore Leavenworth stood ready to sacrifice her self was one for whom she had formerly cherished alleetion,l could m longer doubt; nothing less than love or the strong sense of duty growing out of that passion, whether liviug or dead, seeming to offer incentive enough for her action. Obnoxious as it wai to all my prejudices, one name alone, that of the common-place secretary with his sud den heuts and change!ill manners, his odd ways and studied sell-possession, would re cur to my mind whenever I asked mys If who this person could be..

JNot that, without some such light as had fallen upon the affair through Eleanore's own behaviour, I should have selected this man as one in any way open to suspicion ; the peculiarity of his manner at tlio inquest not b ing marked enough to counteract the improbability of one, in his relations to the deceased, finding sufficient motive for a crime so manifestly without favourable results to himself. But if love had entered as a factor into the affair, what might not be expected. James Harwell, simple amanuensis to a retired tea-merchant, was one man ; .lames Harwell,{swayedby pas sion for a woman beautiful as Eleanore Leavenworth, was another ; and in pacing him upon Ihe list of thoso parties open to suspicion, I f It that I was only doing what was warranted by a proper consideration of probabilities. Put between casual suspicion and actual proof, what a gulf! >o believe James Harwell capable of guilt, and to lind evidence enough lo accuse him of it, were two very dil'ercnt things. I felt myself instinctively shrink irom the task before I hud fully made up my mind to attempt it, some relenting thought of his unhappy position, if innocent, forcing itself upon mc, aud making my very distrust of him seem personally ungenerous if not absolutely unjust. If I had liked the man better, I should not have been so ready to look upon him with doubt. But Eleanore must be saved at all hazards. Once delivered up to the blight of suspicion, who could tell what the result might be ; the arrest of her poison perhaps, a tiling which, once accomplished, would cast a shadow over her young life that it would take more than time to utterly dispeL The accusation of an impecunious secretary would be less horrible than this. I determined to make an early call upon Mr Gryce. Meanwhile the contrasted pictures of Eleanore standing with her hand upon the breast of the dead, her face upraised and reflecting the glory of the beavon she in voked, nod Mary lleeing a short half-bour later indignantly from her presence.haunted me and kept me awake long after midnight. It was like a double vinoi.i of light and darkness that, while contrasting, neither assimilated nor harmonised. I could not ilco from it. Do what I would, the two pictures lollowcd me, filling my soul with alternate hope and distrust, till I knew not whether to place my baud with Eleanore on the breast of the dead and swear implicit faith in her truth and purity, or to turn my : face like Mary, and fly from what I could neither coinpithcnd nor reconcile. Expectant of difficulty, I started next morning upon my search for Mr Gryce,_ with strong determination not to allow' myself to become Hurried by disappointment nor discouraged by premature failure. My business was to save Eleanore Leavenworth, and to do that, it was necessary for mc to preserve not only my equanimity, but my self-possession, The worst fear I anticipated wa* that matters would reach a crisis before I could acquire the right, or obtain the opportunity to interfere. However, the fact of Mr Leaven north's funeral being announced for that day, gave me some comfort in that direction ; my knowledge of Mr Gryce being sufficient, as I thought, to warrant me in believing that be would wait till after that ceremony before pro ceeding to extreme measures. I do not know that I had any very definite ideas of what a detective's home should be, but when I stood before tho neat three-story brick house to which I had been directed, I could not but acknowledge there was something in the aspect of its half-open shutters over closely drawn curtains of spotless purity, highly suggestive of the character of its inmate. A pale looking youth, with vivid locks of red hair hanging straight down over either oar, answered my rather nervous ting. To my inquiry as to whether Mr Gryce was in, he gave a kind of a snort which might have meant no, but which I took to mean yes, "My namo is Raymond, and I wish to see bim." He gave mc one glance that took in every detail of my apparel, and pointed to a door at the head of the stairs. Not waiting for further directions, I hastened up, knocked at the door he had designated,and went in. The broad back of Mr Gryce,stooping above a desk that might have come over in the Mayflower, it was so old-fashsoned, con fronted me. "Well!" be exclaimed ; "this is an honour." And rising, he opeued with a squeak and shut with a bang the ueor of an enormous stove that occupied tho centre of the room. " Rather chilly day, eh ?" "Yes," I returned, eyeing him closely to see if ho was in a communicative mood. "But I have had but little time tocousider the state of the weather. My anxiety in regard to this murder—" "To be sure," he interrupted, fixing his eyes upon the poker, though not with any hostile intention, lam sure, " A puzzling piece of business enough. But perhaps it is otherwise to you. I see you have some thing to communicate." "Yes." said I, "I have, though I doubt if it is of the nature you expect. Mr Gryce," pursued I, drawing up a little closer to iiia side, " since I saw you last, my con victions upon a certain point have been strengthened into an absolute belief. The subject of your suspicions is an innocent woman." If I had expected him to betray any surprise at this, I was destined to be disappointed, " That is a very pleasant belief,"_ he murmured. "I honour you for entertaining it, Mr Raymond." I suppressed a movement of anger "So thoroughly is it mine," said I, determined to arouse him in some way, " that I have come here to-day to ask you in tho name of justice and of common humanity, to sus pend action in that direction, till we can look around and see if there is not a truer scent to go upon." But there was no more show of curiosity than before. "Indeed I" exclaimed he,

" that is a siogular request to come from a man like you, I was not to be discomposed. "Mr Gryce," I went on, a "woman's name once tarnished remains so for ever. Eleanore Leavenworth is of too noble a make to be thoughtlessly dealt with iv a crisis so mo mentous as this, if you will give me your attention, I promise you shall not regetit." He smiled and allowed his eyes to roam from the poker to the arm of my chair. "Very well," remarked he, " I hear you: say on." I drew my notes from my pocket-book and laid them on tbe table. "What, memoranda!" he exclaimed. "Unsafe, very; never put youi plans on paper." Taking no heed to the interruption, I went on. "Mr Gryce, I have had opportunities which you "have lacked for studying this woman. I have seen her in a position which no guilty person conld occupy.and I am assured beyond all doubt, that not only her hands, but h-r heart, is pure from this crime. She may have some knowledge of its secrets ; that I do not presume to deny. The key seen in her possession would re fute mc if I did. But what if she has? You can never desire to see so lovely a being brought to shame for withholding information which she evidently considers it ber duty to keep back, when by a little patient finesse we may succeed iv our pur pose without it." "But," interposed the detective, "say this is so, how are we to arrive at the knowledge we want, without following out the only clue which has yet been given us?" " You will never reach it by following out any clue given you by Eleanore Leaven worth." His eyebrows lifted expressively, but he said nothing. "Miss Eleanore Leavenworth has beeu used by someone acquainted with her firm ness, generosity, and perhaps love. Let us discover who possesses sufficient power over her to control ber to this extent, and wc find the man we seek." " Humph I" came from Mr. Gryce's com pressed lips, and no more. Determined that he should speak, I waited. " You have then some one in your mind ;" remarked he at last almost flip pantly. " f mention no names," I returned. "All I want is further time." " You are then intending to make a per sonal business of this matter ?'' "I am." He gave a long low whistle. "May I ask," he inquired at length,"whether you expect to work entirely upon your own hook, or whether if a suitable coadjutor were provided, you would disdain bis assis tance and slight his advice." " I desire nothing more than to hare you for my colleague." The smile upon his face deepened ironi cally. "You must feel very sure of your self," said he. " I am very sure of Miss Leavenworth," I retorted. The reply seemed to please him. "Let us hear what you propose dofijg ?" I did not immediately answer. The truth was, I had formed no plans. "It seems to me," he continued, "that you have undertaken a rather difficult task for an amateur. Better leave it to me, Mr. Raymond, better leave it to me." "1 am sure," I returned, " that nothing would please me better—" "Not," he interrupted, "but that a word from you now aud then would be welcome. lam not an egotist. lam open to suggestions : as for instance now, if you could conveniently inform me of alt you have yourself *cen and heard in regard to this matter, I should be most happy to listen." Relieved to find him so amenable, I asked myself what I really had to tell; not piuch that he would cmsider vital. However, it would not do to hesitate now. "Mr Gryce," said I, "I have but few facts to give beyond those already known to you. Indeed in is not so much facts I possess as convictions. That Eleanore Leavenworth not only never committed this crime, but was in utter ignorance of it until its completion, I am assured. 1 hat the real perpetrator is likewise known to her, 1 am equally certain, aud that for some reason she considers it a sacred duty to shield the assassin even at the risk of her own safety, follows as a matter of course from the facts. Now, with such data, it cannot be a very difficult task for you or me to work out satisfactorily, to our own minds at least, who this person can he. A little more knowledge of the family—" " You know nothing of its secret history then?" " Nothing." " Do not even know whether those girls are engaged to be married or possess lovers ?" " I do not," returned I, rather wincing at this direct putting into words of my own inner thought. He remained a moment silent. "Mr Raymond," said he at last," have you any of the disadvantages under which a de tective labours? For instance now, you imagine that I can insinuate myself into all sorts of society perhaps, but you are mistaken. Strange as it may appear, I have never by aoy possibility or means succeeded with one class of persons at aU. I cannot pass myself off for a gentleman. Tailors and barbers are no good; I am always found out" He looked so dejected that I could scarcely forbear smiiing, notwithstanding my secret care and anxiety. " I have even employed a French valet, who understood dancing and whiskers, but it was all of no avail. The first gentleman I approached stared at me, real gentleman I mean, none of your American dandies, and I had no stare to return ; I had < forgotten that emergency in my confabs with Pierre Camille Marie Make-face." Amused, but a little discomposed by this sudden change in the conversation,! looked at Mr Gryce inquiringly. " Now you, I dare say, have no trouble," he exclaimed, "was born one, perhaps. Can even ask a lady to dance without blushing, eh?" " Well," I commenced— "Just so," he replied, "now I can't. I can enter a house, bow to the mistress of it, let her be as elegant as she wiU, so long as I have a writ of arrest in my hand or some such professional matter upon my mind, but when it comes to visiting in kid gloves, raising a glass of champagne in response to a toast, and such like, I am absolutely good for nothing." And he plunged his two hands into his hair, and looked dolefully at the head of the cajie I carried iv my hand. 1 " But it is much the same with the whole of us. When wc arc in want of a gentleman to work for us, we have to go outside of our profession." I thought I began to see what be was driving at, but held my peace,vaguely con scious that I was likely to prove a necessity to him after all, "Mr Raymond," he now said.almost abruptly, "do you know a gentleman by the name of Clavering.atpresentresidingat the Hoffman house ?" "Not that I am aware of," "He is very polished in his manners: would you mind making his acquain tance ?"

I followed Mr Grycc's example ani [ stared at the chimney-piece. "1 cannot fl answer till I understand matters a little I better," I returned at length. I * " There is not much to understand," he • I replied "Mr Henry Claveriog, a gentle- 1 man and a man of the world, resides I at the Hoffman House. He is a stranger 1 in town, without being strange; 1 drives, walks, smokes, but never 1 visits; looks at the ladies, but was never 1 seen to bow to one. In short, a p inon whom §f it is desirable to know, but whom being a [7 proud man with something of the old world 1 prejudice against Yankco freedom and . M forwardness, I could no more get near toy* I than I could the Emperor of Austria." •■ " And you wi-h—" | "He would make a very agreeable com*, if panion for a rising young lawyer of good I family nnd undoubted respectability. J B fiavc no doubt that if you yourself undjr. H took to cultivate him, you would find him I well worth the trouble." * "Might even desire to take bim into If familiar relations; —by degrecs,you know— B confide in him, and—" f "Mr Gryce," I interrupted hastily, "I, H can never consent to plot for any man's ft friendship for the sake of betraying him to % the police." I I "It is essential to your p'aus to make I the acquaintance of Mr Clavering," he re- 1 plied drily. 1 "Oh," I returned, a light breaking in I upon me, "he has some connection with I* this case then?" Mr Gryce smoothed his coat-sleeve I thoughtfully. "I don't know as it will be I necc-sary for you to betray him. You I wouldn't ohject to being introduced to I him?" I "No." y I " Nor if you found him pleasant, to con- I verse with him?" 11 "Not even it in the course of con versa- Am tion, you should come across something if that might serve as a clue in your efforts to ' M save Eleanore Leavenworth? " j The no I uttered this time was less H assured; the part of a spy was the very 1 last one I desired to play in the comin<r n drama, " "Well then," he went on, ignoring the II doubtful tone in which my assent had been A i given, " I advise you to immediately take * I up your quarters at the Hoffman House." i " I doubt if that would do," I said. "If I lam not mistaken, I have already seen I this gentleman and spoken to him," " Where ? " " Describe him first." "Well, he is tall, finely formed, of very upright carriage, with a handsome dark face, brown hair streaked with grey, a piercing eye, and a smooth address. A very * imposing persoDaae, I assure you." " I have reason to think I have seen him," I returned; and in a few words told him when and where. "Humph!" said he at the conclusion, " he is evidently as much interested in you, as we in him, how's that? r think I see," ; he cried again after a moment's thought. "Pity you spoke to him; may have created an unfavourable impression, and every thing depends upon your meeting without any distrust." He ro«e and paced the floor.' "Well, we must work »low, that is aIL: Give him a chance to see you in other and better lights. Drop into the Hoffman House reading room. Talk with the best men you, meet while there, but not too much or too indiscriminately. Show yourself for what you are, and leave all advances to him;, he'll make them." '"Supposing we aro under a mistake, and the man I met on the corner of Thirty seventh Street, was not Mr Clavering?" "I should be greatly surprised, that's all." Not knowing what further objection to make, I remained silent. "And this head of mine would have to put on its thinking cap," he pursued , jovially. "Mr Gryce," said I anxious to show that all this talk about an unknown party had not served to put my own plans from my mind. " there is ono person of whom we have not spoken." "No?" he exclaimed softly, wheeling around nntil his broad back confronted me. " And who may that be ?'.' "Why, who but Mr—." I could get no, further. What right had Ito mention any man's name in this connection, unless I possessed sufficient evidence against him to make such mention justifiable? " I beg your pardon," said I, "but I think I will hold to my first impulse and speak no names." " Harwell ?" he ejaculated easily. The quick blush rising to my face, in voluntarily assented. " I see no reason why we shouldn't speak , of him, "he went oo; "that is if there is any thing to be gained by it." "His testimony at the inquest was honest, you think?" " It has not been disproved." " He is a peculiar man." " And so am I," the detective returned. I felt myself slightly non-plusscd, and conscious of appearing at a disadvantage, lifted my hat from tho table and preoared to take my leave, but suddenly thinking of Hannah, turned and asked if there was any news of her. He seemed to debato with himself, hesitating so lon^ that I began to floubt if tbis man intended to confide in me after all, when suddenly he brought his two hands down before him and exclaimed vehe mently, "The evil one himself is in this business. If the earth had opened and swallowed up this girl, she couldn't have more effectually disappeared." I experienced a sinking of the heart. Eleanore had said, " Hannah can do nothing for me." Could it be that the girl was indeed gone, and forever ? " I have innumerable a»ents at work, fo say nothing of the general public, and yet not so much as a whisper has come tome• 7, in regard to her whereabouts or situation, p. lam only afraid we shall fiod her floating ] in tbe river some fine morning, without a 7 confession in her pocket." . . *7 " Everything hangs upon that girl's testi mony," I remarked. He gave a short grunt. "What does * Miss Leavenworth say about it ? " " That the girl cannot help her." I thought he looked a trifle surprised at this, buthe covered it with a nod and aa exclamation. "She must be found for »v that," said he; "and shaU, if I have to scud out Q." "Q?" "An agent of mine who is a living interrogation point; so wc call him Q which is short for query." Then as^ turned to go; "When the contents of the J will are made known, come to me." The will I I had forgotten tho will. ,7

The following is tho verdict of a negro jury:—" We, do undersigned, being a koroner's jury to sit on de body ob denigga Sambo, now dead and gone afore us, hab been sittin' on de smd negro aforesaid, find dat de said negro aforesaid did, on de night ob de fwteenth oh November, come to del by falling from de bridge ohar de riber, where we find he was subsequently drown, and afterwards washed on de riberside* where we 'pose he was froze to def I ''■-•■'

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, AUGUST 5, 1882.