THE LEAVENWORTH MURDER

BY ANNA. KAIIIERTNE GIiEEN,

Authoress of

"A Strajwk Disappearance" and

"The Sword of Damoclks."

XIX,

IN MY OFFICE

Somcthintr between a hlndranoo and n help, —WOUBSWOKTH.

THE next day a«, with nerves unstrung nnd au exhausted brain, t entered my ollice, I Was greeted hy tho announcement : —

" Agentlomnn, sir, in your private roora lieen waiting some time, very impatient."

Weary, and in no mood to hob! consulta tion with clients new or old, I advanced with anything but an eager step towards my room, when upon opening the door I saw—Mr (.Havering.

Too much astounded for the moment to speak, I Unwed to him silently, whorcu|icm he approached 1110 with the air and dignity of a highly bred gentleman, ami presented Ins card, on which 1 saw 'written, in frco and handsome characters, Ilia -whole name, Homy Ritchie Clavflrillg. After this in troduction oi himself, he apologised lor making bo unceremonious :v call, Baying in excuse, that he was a stranger in town ; that his business was nno of great urgency ;. that lie kind casually heard honourable mention of me a-j a lawyer and a gentleman, and (=o had ventured to .sock this interview <>n behalf of a friend who was so unfortunately situated an to require the opinion and advice or .1 lawyer upon a question that not only involve) an extraordinary state of facts, but w,.s of a nature peculiarly eniharrawiug to him, owing to hi* ignorance of Amcricnn laws, ami the legal beating of these facts upon the same. Having thus secured my attention nnd awiiki'iied my curiosity, hn a*ked mo if ■ I would pi rinit him to relate his story Recovering in a measure from my as'oinsh inent, and subduing the extreme rcpuUion, almost liorror, 1 felt for the man, I signiliod my as-ent, at which he drew trom hia pocket a uieuiorauduiu hook from which ho read in .lubHtauco as follows: — "An Englishman travelling in this country meet.", at a fashionablu watering place, an American girl, with whom lie falls deeply in love, anil whom after a few days ho desires to mairy. Knowing Ills position to he good, his fortune amplo, and Ul3 intentions nighty honorable, ho oilers her his hand and is accoptod. But a de cided opposition nrising in tho family to the niatcn, he is compelled to disguise his sentiments, though the engagement re mained unbroken. While mutters wore in this uncertain condition, he receivetl advices from Kngland demanding his instant return, ami alarmed at the prospect of a protracted absence from the object of his affections, lie write-- to the lady, informing her of the eircumsUnco and proposing marriage. She eouseuts with stipulations, the liist of which i*. that ho should leave her in stantly upon the conclusion of the ceremony, and the second, thut he should intrust the public decimation of the marriage to her. It WflS not precisely what he wished, but anything which served to make her his own •Was acceptable at such a crisis, lie readily outers into the plans proposed. Meeting the lady at >i parsonage tome twenty miKs from the watering-place at which she was staying, lie stands up with her befo'e a Methodist preacher, and tho ceremony of marriage i* performed. There were two witness, a hired man of the minister, called in for the purpose, and a lady friend ■who came with the bride; but there was no license, and tho bride had not completed her twenty-lust year. Now was the mar rage legal? If the lady, wedded in good faith upon that day by my friend, chooses to deny that she is his lawful wife, can he hold her to a compact entered into in so informal a manner ? In short, Mr llaymond, is my friend the lawful husband of that girl or not!" While listening to this story, I found my self yielding to feelings greatly in contrast to tliose with which 1 greeted the rclator iut a moment before. I became so in terested in bis "friend's" case, as to quite forget for the time beiog that 1 had ever seen or heard of Henry Clavcring; and after learning that the marriage ceremony took place in the State of New York, I re plied to him, as near as I can remember, in the following words : "In this State, and I believe it to be American law, marriage is a civil contract, requiring neither license, priest, ceremony, nor certificate—and in some cases witnesses arc not even neces sary to give it validity. Of old the modes of getting a wife were the same as tho3e of acquiring any other species of pro perty, and they are not materially changed at the present time. It i 9 enough that the man and womim say to each other, ' From this time forward wo arc married,'or •You arc now my wife,' or, 'my hus- Imnd,' as the case may be. The mutual consent is allthatis necessary. In fact you may coutract marriage us you contract to lend a sum of money, or to buy the merest trifle," . „ " Then your opinion is— " That.upon your statement, your friend Is the lawful husband of the ludy in ques tion, presuming, of course, that no legal disabilities of cither party existed to pre vent such a union. As to the young lady's »<% I will merely say that any fourteen year-old girl can be a patty to !> marriage contract, Mr Covering bowed, his countenance as suming a look of great satisfaction. " I am very glad to hear this,1' said he; " my fricmrs happiness is entirely involved in the establishment of his marriage." He appeared so relieved, my curiosity was yet further aroused. I therefore said, " I have given you my opinion as to the legality of this marriage, but it may be quite another thing to prove it, should the same be contestod." He i tavted, cast me an inquiring look, and murmured : "Trne " "Allow mo to ask you a few questions. Was the lady married under her own ■name ?" "She was." "The gentleman?" "Yes, sir." " Did the lady receive a certificate V "She did." "Properly signed by the minister and witnesses?" He bowed his head in assent. "Did she keep this?" " I cannot say, but I presume she did," '' The witnesses were—" "" A hired man of the minister—"

" Who can be found ?" " Who cannot be found." " Dead or disappeared ?"• " The minister is dead, and the man has disappeared." " The minister dead ! " Tiirco months since." " And the marriage tuok place when *" "Last July." . "The other witness, the lady friend, where is she." " She can be found, but her action is not to be depended upon." "Has. the gentleman himself no proofa of this marriage." Mr ClavoriDg shook his head. He cannot even pro'O he was in the town whete it took place on that particular day." "Thennuriago certificate was, however, (ilod with the clerk of the town," said I. " It was not,sir." "How was that!"

"I cannot say; I only know that my friend has made inquiry, and that no such paper i.s to be found." I leaned slowly back and looked at him. " 1 do not wonder that your triend is con cerned iv regard to his position, if what you hint is true and the lady stems dispost d lo deny that any such ceremony ever took place, iStill, if ho wishes to go to law, the Court limy decide in his favour, though I doubt it. 11 is sworn word is all he would have to go upon, and if she contradicts his testimony under oath, why the sympathy of a jury is* as a rule,with the woman." Mr (Havering rose, looked at me with tonic c-miestnt'HS, and finally asked io a tone which, though toniowhttt changed, lacked nothing of its former suavity, if 1 would be kind enough to give him in writ in;,' that portion of my opinion which directly bore upon the legality of the mar riage ;' that such a paper would go far towards satisfying his friend that his ca»c had been property pre.-ented, as he was aware that n>> respectable lawyer would put his name to a legal opinion without lir.st having carefully arrived at his conclu sions l>y a thorough examination ot'lhe law be 'ring upon the facts submitted, Thii r> nueiit seeming no reasonable, I unhesitatingly complied with it, and handed him thu opinion. 110 took it, and after rending it carefully over, deliberately copied it into his memorandum book. This done, he turned towards me, a strong though hitherto subdued emotion showing itself in his countenance.

"Now, .sir," said he, rising upon me to the full height of Urn majostic lißurc, "I have bill 'me more request to make ; and tliut k, that you. will receive hack ihis opinion into your own possession, and in the duy you think to lend a beautiful woman to the ultiir, paiiso »nd mk yourself, ' Am I suro thut the hnnd I clasp witii i«ucli impnss!on«(l fervour in froc ? Have I any certainty for knowing that it baa not ulrcndy been given iiway like that of the lady whom, in this opinion of xnino, I have dcclnrcil to be a wcdtloii wife according to the laws of my count y ?'" ":Mr Cluveriiif' 1"

But he, with an urbane bow, law his hand upon the knob of the <loor. " 1 thank you for your courtesy, Mr Hnymoml, and I bid you pood <luy. I hope you will have no need of consulting that paper before I see you again," And with another bow, he passed out. It was the most vital shock I had yet ex perienced, and for a moment I stood para lyzed. Ale! me ! why should he mix me up with the affair unless—Hut 1 would not contemplate that possibility. Eleanorc married, nud to this man ! No, no ; any tiling Imt that; and yet I found myself continually turning the supposition over in my mind until, to escape tha torment of my own conjectures, I seized my hat and ru lied into the street in the hope of find ing him ai/aiu and extorting from 'urn nn explanation of his mysterious conduct. But by tho time I readied the side walk, he was nowhere to be seen. A thou sand bu\y me:i with their various cares nud purposes hud pushed themselves between us, and I >rai obliaed to return to ruy oflice with my doubts unsolved. I think I never experienced a longer day ; but it pa-sod, and at (iyo o'clock 1 had the satisfaction of inquiring for Mr, Clavcring at tho Hoffman House. Jittl^c of my sur prise when I learned that his visit to my oiiice was his last action before taking passage upon the steamer leaving that day Jor Liverpool; that he was nnw on the high sens and all chance of another interview with him was at an end. I could scarcely believe the fact at first, but after a talk with the cabman who had driven him to my oilicc and tbenco to the steamer, I became convince!. My lirstfccling wasoncofsh«me. I had been brought face to face with an ac cused man, had received an intimation from him that he was not expecting to see me again for some time, and had weakly gone on attending to mv own affairs and allowed him to escape, like the simple tyro that I was;.my next, the necessity of notifying Mr (jryce of this man's departure. But it was now six o'clock, the hour set apart for my interview with Mr Harwell. I could not allbrcl to miss that, so merely stopping to despatch a line to Mr Gryce, in which I promised to visit him that evening. I turned my steps towards home. I found Mr Har well there before me.

XX. " TRUEMAN ! TRUKMAN 1 TRUEMAN 1"

Ofton do tho spirits Of ercat oventß stride ou before the ovents, And, In to-day, already walks to-morrow. —COLKWIXIE. Instantly a great dread seized me. What revelations might not this man be going to make ! But I subdued the feeling, and greeting him with what cordiality I could, settled myself to listen to his explana tions. But Trueman Harwell had no explana tions to give, it seemed; on the contrary, he had come to apologise for the very violent words ho had used,without sullicient basis in fact to make tneir utterance of the least importance. "But, cried I, "you must have thought you had grounds for so tremendous au ac cusation, or your act wa? that of a mad man."

llis brow wrinkled heavily and his eyes assumed a very gloomy expression. "It docs not follow," returned he. " Under the pressure of surprise, I have known men utter convictions no better founded than mine, without running tho risk of being called mad."

"Surprise? Mr Covering's face or form must, then, have been known to you. Tho mere fact of seeing a strange gentleman in the hall, would have been insufficient to cause your astonishment, Mr Harwell."

He uneasily lingered the back of the chair before which he stood, but made no reply. "Sit down," I again urged, this time with a touch of command in my voice. " This is a serious matter, and I intend to deal with it as it deserves. You have said before that, if you knew anything which might serve to exonerate Eleauore Leaveu worth from the suspicion under which she stands, you would be ready to impart it.' " I said," he interrupted coldly, "that if I had known of anything which might serve to release her from her unhappy position, I should have spoken."

"Do not quibble," I returned. "You do know something, Mr Harwell, and I ask you in the name of justice to tell me what it is."

"You urc mistaken," hs returned, dog "■Rtlly, "I know nothing. I have reasons, no'hups, for thinking certain thiogi, but niv conscience "'ill not allow me iv cold blood 10 give utterance to;su-picions which may not only damage the reputation of an hoiicat man,' but place mem theunp'eiwant position of an accuser without substantial fbundntion for my accnHation!"." " You are there already," I retorted'with equal clducss. " Nothing can make me forget that iv my presence you have de nounced Henry Olavoring as the murderei of Mr liOiivcnworth. You had better explain yourself, Mr Harwell." He gave me a short look, but moved around and took the chair. " You have me at a disadvantage," he said in a lighter tone. "If you choose to profit by your position and press me to disclose the little I know, I can only regret the necessity under which I lie, and speak." " Then you ar« deterred by conscientious BCrup'es atone?" " Yes, and by the meagrenrss of the facts at mv command." "I will judge of the facts when I have heard them." He raised his eyes to mine, and I was astonished to observe a strange eagerness in their depths ; evidently his convictions were stronger than his scruples. "Mr Raymond," he begun, "you arc ;i lawyer and undoubtedly a practical man, but you may know what it U to .scent danger before you see ir, to feel influo'iccs working in the air over and about you, and jet bo in ignorance of what it in that affects you »o powerfully, till chance reveals that an enemy has been at your Bide, or a friend passed your window, or the .shadow of death crossed vciur book as you read, or mingled with your breath as you slept?" T shook my head, fascinated by the inten sity of his gaze into some sort of response. "Then you cannot understand me or what 1 have suffered these last three weeks." And he dicw back with an icy reserve that seemed tn promise but little to my now thoroughly awakened curi osity. "I bog your pardon." I hastened to say, "but the fact of my never having ex perienced such sensations does not hinder mo from comprehending tl'O emotions of others moro affected by .spiritual influences than myself." He drew himself slowly forward. "Then you will not ridicule me if 1 say, that upon the cvb of .Mr Lea Yen worth's murder I ex perienced in n dream all that afterwards occurred ; saw him murdered, saw—" and lie clasped his hands before him in an at'itude inexpressibly convincing, whilo his voice sank to a horrified whisper, " caw the face of his murderer!" 1 started, looked at him in amazement, a thrill as at the touch of a ghost running through me. "And was that—" I began. " My reason for denouncing the man I beheld before me, In tfie hall of Miss Leavenworth's houso last night. It wa«." And taking out his handkerchief he wiped his forehead on which the perspiration was standing in large drops. " You would then intimate that the face you saw in your dream and the face you Paw iv the hall last night were the same?1' He gravely nodded his head. I drew my char nearer to his. "Tell me your dream," said I. " Well," replied he, in a low, awestruck tone, " it was the nipht before Mr Leaven worth's muidci. I had gone to bed feeling especially contented with myself and the world at large, for though my life is any thing but a happy one,'1 and he heaved a short sigh, " some pleasant words had been said to me that Hay, and 1 was revelling in the happiness they had conferred, when .suddenly a chill struck my heart, and the darkness which a moment before had appeared to me as the abode of peice, thrilled to the sound of a supernatural cry ami I beard my name, 'Trucman, True-1 man. Trueman,' repeated three times in n voice I did not recognise, nnd starting from my pillow I beheld at my bedside a woman. Ucr face was strange to me," ho weut on solemnly, " but I oun give you each and every detail of it, as bending above me, she stared into my eyes with a growing terror that seemed to implore help, though her lips were quiet and only the memory of that cry echoed in my cars." "Describe the face," I interposed. "It was a round, fair, lady's tacc. Very lovely in contour, but devoid of colouring ; not beautiful, but winning from its childlike look of trust. The hair, banded upon tho low, broad forehead, was brown ; the eyes, which were very far apart, erey ; tho mouth, which was its most charming feature, delicate of make and very expressive. Thcro was a dimple in the chin, but none in the cheeks. It was a face to be re membered." "Go on," said I. "Meeting the gaze of those imploring eyos, I started up, Instantly tho face, and all vanished, and I became conscious, as we do sometimes in dream?, of a certain move ment in the hall below, and tho next instant, the gliding figure of a man ot imposing size entered the library. I remember experienc ing a cortain thrill at this, half terror, half ouriosity, though I seemed to know as if by intuition what lie was going to do. Strange to say, I now scorned to change my person ality and to be no longer a third party watching these proceedings, but Mr Leaven worth himself, sitting at his library table and feelinc; his doom crawling upon him without capacity for speech or power of movement to avert it. Though my back was towards tho man, I could feel his stealthy form traverse the passage, enter the room beyond, pass to that stand where the pistol was, try the drawer.find it locker], turn the key, procure the pistol, weigh it in an accustomed hand and advance again. I could feel cack footstep ho took as though his feet were in truth upon my heart, and I remember staring at the tabtc before me as ■ if 1 expected every moment to see it run with my own blood. I can see now how the letters I had been writing danced upon the paper before me, appearing to my eyes to take the phantom shapes of persons find things long ngn forgotten as I had thought; crowding my last moments with regrets and doad shames, wild longings and un speakable agonies, through all of which that face, the face of my former dream, mingled, pale, sweet, and searching, while closer behind me crept that noiseless foot till I could feel the glaring of the assassin's eyes across the narrow threshold separating me from death, and hear the click of his teeth as he set his lips for the final act. Ah," and the Secretary's livid face showed the touch of awful horror, " what words can describe such an experience as that! In one moment all the agonies of hell iv the hoart and brain, the next a blank through which I seemed to sco afar and. as if suddenly removed from all this, a crouching figure looking at its work with starting eyes and pallid back-drawn lips, and soeing,rccognise no face that I had ever ' known, but one so bandsome,so remarkable, so unique in its formation and character, that it would be as easy for mo to mistake the countenance of my father, as the look and ligure of the man revealed to me in my dream." ~ "And thia face," said I, in a voice I failed to recognise as my own-*— " Was that of him whom we saw leave Mary Leavenworth's presence last night and go down the hall to the front door,"

XXI. A PREJUDICE.

True. I talk of dreams Which ato the children of an idle brain Uegotof nothing but vain phantasy. —Romeo and julikt. ¥or one moment I sat a prey to supersti tious horror, thqn my natural incredulity asserting itself, I looked up and remarked, "You say that all this took place the night previous to that of the actual occur rence?." He bowed his head. "For a warning,"' murmured he. j "But you did [not seem to take it as such ?" "No ; I am subject to horrible dreams ! I thought but little of it in a superstitious way till I looked next day upon Mr Lea venvrorth's dead body." " I do not wonder you behaved strangely at the inquest; I should have thought you would." "Ah sir," returned he with a slow, sad smile, "no one knows what I suffered in my endeavours not'^o tell more than I ac tually knew, irrespective of my dream, of this murder and the manner of its accom plishment." " you believe then," said I, "that your dream foreshadowed the manner of the murder as well as the fact?" "I do." " It is a pity it did not go a little further then, and tell us how the assassin escaped from, if not how he entered, a house secured as Mr Lcavcnworth's was." His face flushed. "That would have been convenient," he said ; "also if I had b en informed where Hannah was, and why a stranger and a gentleman should nave stooped to the committal of such a crime." S-.eing that he was nettled, I dropped my bantering vein. " Why do you say a stran ger?" I asked ; "are you so well acquain ted with all who visit that house as to be able to say who are and who are not, stran gers to the family ?" " I am well acquainted with the faces of j their friends, Mr Kaymond, and Henry Clavcring is not amongst the number, but—" " Were you ever withMrLeavenworth," i I intcnuptcd, "when he haa been away from home, in the country for instance or upon hi* travels?" " No," the Secretary returned constrain edly. "Yet I suppose he waa in the habit of absenting himself from liom,e ?" "Ccrtaiuly." "Can you tell me where he was last July, he and the ladies?" " Yes, sir; they went to R-——, if you mean that; spent some time there, The famous watering-place you know, Ah," he cried seeing a sudden change in my face, "do you think ho could have met them there V I looked at him for a moment, then rising in my turn stood level with him and ex claimed. "Y»u aie keeping something back, Mr Harwell; you fiave more knowledge of this m<m than you have hitherto given me to understand, What is it ?'' He seemed astonished at my penetration, ; but replied, " I know no more of the man than I have already informod you, but"— and a burning flush crossed his face, "if you are determined to pursue this matter" —and he paused with an inquiring look. "I am resolved to find out a'l I can about Henry Clavering," I returned. ; He lifted his head with a quick gesture. "Then," said he, "I can tell you this much. Henry Clavering wrote a letter to Mr Leavcnworth a few days before the murder, that I have some reason to believe produced a marked effect upon the house hold." And folding his arm«, the Sec:c tary stood quiutly waiting for my next i question. '■ How do you know?" asKed I. " I opened it by mistake. I was in the habit of reading Mr Leavenworth's business letters, and ihU being from one unac customed to write to him, lacked the mark which usually distinguished those of a private nuture." "And you saw the name of Claver ing?" " I did; Henry Ritchie C'avering." "Did you reid the letter ?" I was trembl ing now. The Secretary did not reply. "Mr Harwell," I reiterated, " this is no time for false delicacy. Did you read that letter ?" " I did; but hastily and with an agitated conscience. I—" "You can however, recall its general drif -!" " It was some complaint in regard to the treatment received by him at the hand of one of Mr Leavenworth's nieces. I remem ber nothiDg more." "Which niece?" "There were no names mentioned." "But you inferred—" ••No, sir ; that is just what I did not do. I forced myself to forget the whole thing." " Aud yet you say that it produced an effect upon the family ?" "I can see now that it did. None of them have ever appeared quite the same towards each other as before." "Mr Harwell," I now said ; " when you were questioned as to the receipt of any letter by Mr Leavenworth, which might seem in any manner to be connosted with this traedgy, you denied having seen any such ; how wa3 that ?" "Mr Kaymond," he returned, "you are a gentleman ; have a chivalrous regard for the ladies ; do you think that you «ould have brought yourself (even if in your secret heart you considered some such result possible, which I am not ready to say I did) to mentiou at such a time as that, the re ceipt of a letter complaining of the treat ment received f romjone of Mr Leavenworth's nieces, as a'auspicious circumstance worthy to bo taken into account by a coroner's jury ?' I shook my head. I could not but acknow ledge the impossibility. " What reason1 had I for thinking that letter was one of importance 1 I knew no Henry Ritchie Clavering." ' '• And yet you seemed to think it was,' I murmured. " I remember you hesitated before replying." " It is true, but not as I should hesitate now, if the question were pat to mo again." - Silence followed those words, during which I took two or three turns up and down the room. " That is all very fanciful," I said, laughing iv the vim endeavour to throw off the superstitious horror that unaccount ably to myself still hung about me. He bent his head in assent. " I know it," said ho. " I am practical myself in broad daylight, and recognise tho flimsi ness of an accusation based upon a pQor, bard-working Secretary's dream, as plainly ;as you do. That is the reason I desired to keep from speaking at all. Dreams are not things with which to confront a man in a court of justice; but, Mr Raymond," and bis long thin hand fell upon my arm with a nervous intensity which gave me almost the sensation of an eloctrical shock, "if the murderer of Mr Leavenworth is ever brought to confess his deod, mark my words, he will prove to be the man of my I dream,"

I drew a long breath, For a moment his belier was mine; and a mingled sensation of relief and exquisite pain swept over me as I thought cf Eieanore being exonerated from_ crime only to be plunged into fresh, humiliation and deeper üby*S3sof suffering, "He stalks the streets in freedom now,' the Secretary went on, as if to himself, "even dares to cuter the house he has a© wofully desecrated ; but justice is justice, aud sooner or later, something will trans pire which w:ll prove to you that a premo nition so wonderful as that I received had its significance; that the voice calling True man, Trueman, was something mqre than the empty utterances of au excited brain; that it was Justice itself, calling attention to the guilty." I looked at him in wonder : did he know that the officers of justice were al ready upon the track of this Ciavering» I judged not from his look, but felt an incli nation t> wake mi cifort aud see. " You. speak with strange conviction," I said; " but in all probability yon are doomed to bu disappointed. So far as we know, Mr Ciavering is a respectable man." Hu Jif led his hat from the table. " 1 do not propose to denounce him; I do not even propose to speak h;s name again. I am not a fool, Mr ltaymond. I have spoken thus plainly to you only io explana tion of last nigln's most unfortunate be trayal ; and while I trust you will regard what 1 have told you as confidential, I also hope that you will give me credit for beliavin»,on the whole, a well as could be expected under the circumstances." And he held out his hand. "Certainly," I replied as I took it. Then with a sudden impulse tv test the accuracy of this story of his,! inquired.if he had any means of verifying ids statement of having had this dream at tile time spoken of, that is before the murd-r and not afterwards. "No, sir; I koov? myself that I had it the uigat previous to tiiat of Mr Leaven worth's death; but 1 ctnnot prove tke fact." "Did not speak of it next morning to anyone ?" •' O no, sir ; I was scarcely in a position, to do so." "Yet it must have had a great effect upon you, unfitting you for work—" " Nothing unfit* me for wurk," he mur mured bitterly. "I believe that is so," I returned,remem« fcering his diligence for the last few days. '' But you must at least have shown some traces of having passed an uncomfortable night, if no more. Have- you, then, no recollection of anyone speaking to youia regard to your appearance the next morn ing?" %'"JAr Leavenworth may have done co; no one else would have been likely to have noticed," be returned half sadly. "Mr Harwell," I now said, ''I shall not be at the house to-night; nor do I know when I sball return there. Personal con siderations keen mefrom Miss Lea venworth's pre3ence for a time, and I look to you to carry on the work we have undertaken, without ray assistance.unlessyoucan bring it here —" "I can do that," "I shall expect you, then, to-morrow (j evening." " Very welLsir;" and he was going, when a sudden thought seemed to strike_ him. : "Sir," he said, "as we do not wish to < return to this subject again, and as I have ; a natural curiosity in regard to the man whose countenance and figure are so well known to me,while yet he retains his title of utter stranger, would you object to .i telling me what you know of him? You believe him to be a respectable man ; are ;; you acquainted with him, Mr Raymond J" | " I know his name and where he resides." '■ " And where is that?" " In London, he is an Englishman." "Ah!" he murmured with a strange intonation. " Why do you say that ?" He bic his lip, looked dowD, then up, finally fixed his eyes on mine and returned with marked emphasis: "I used an ex clamation, sir, because I was startled," " Startled ?" " Yes; you Fay he is an Englishman. Mr Leavenworth had the most bitter antagonism to the English. It was one of his marked peculiarities. He would never be introduced to one if he could help it." It was my turn to look thoughtful. "You know," the Secretary continued, "that Mr L°avenworth was a man -who carried bis prejudices to the extreme. H« had a hatred for the English race that almost amounted to a mania. If he had known that letter he'received was from an Englishman I doubt, if he .would have read it. He used to say that he would sooner see a daughter of his dead befor« him than married to an Englishman." I turned hastily aside to hide the effect which this announcement made upon me. '' You think lam exaggerating," he said t "ask Mr Veeley." " No," I replied, '• I have no reason for thinking so." . " he nad doubtless some cause for hating the English, with which we are unacquaint ed,"purnied the Secretary. "Hespentsome time in Liverpool when yonnsr, and had of course many opportunities for studying their manners and character." And the Secre tary made another movement as if te leave. ■ . ~ Bat it was my turn to detain mm bow. "Mr Harwell, excuso me," I said, "but you have been on familiar terms with Mr Leavenworth, for so long.—Do you think that in the case of one of his nieces, say, desiring to marry a gentleman of that nationality, his prejudice was sufficient to cause him to absolutely forbid tna match ?"

I moved back. I had learned what I wished, and saw no further reason for pro longing the interview. (To be continued.)

An Unfortunate Mistake.

Frederick tiie Third, King of Prussia, commonly styled Frederick the Great, said that the English foueht for liberty, the French for glory and the Germans for pay, but that the Irish were the only people he knew, who fought for fun. This monarch was one day riding in the neighbourhood of Potsdam when ho met a line-looking country girl, remarkably tall, that he thought would he a suitable wife for one or the tallest soldiers in his favourite regiment of Grenadiers. He asked the girl, where she was going, and evory question that wa* necessary for the furtherance of his project, and finally demanded, would she take a, note from him to the captain of the guard at Potsdam, where she was going? The pirl readily agreed to do so, not knowing it was the king with whom she had been conversing. Ou reaching Potsdam, how over, she found that she had too many private affairs to transact to deliver the note in person, as she had been directed, and meeting with an old woman of her acqnam tance. she asked her to give the note to the captain of the guard. The old lady con sented ; she accordingly presented it to him he opened it, read it, and was sur prised, but not thinking of disobeying the peremptory mandate he detained the mes senger, and sent for the soldier, whose grief was'immodorate at hearing ho was forth* with to espouse the beater of the note.

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, AUGUST 19, 1882