CONFIDENTIAL AGENT: BY JAMES PAYN.

AUTHOR OK "By Proxy," "Under One Roof," "Wai/teh's Woko," "High Stouts," Etc.

CHAPTER XLIU,

ANOTItICi: PAUTINU,

Sklf-SAOUIFICK would doubtless be thought more of but for thu pretence that is made to it by anything but self-sacrificing i>er sons. One might as well say that because there are prof>ssioniil beggars there are no deserving poor. Like charity, it due* not commend itself ;iu some ease*, there may be oven no record of it save in the ISook of Life—a work unread oven by posterity. Under no circumstances, 1 think, would Amy Thnrlow have informed Sabey that all wns over—and for Sabey's sake —be- tween herself and tier lover. But as mat ters were, and since the disclosure must needs reveal also the causa of separation, eiie never dreamt of making it. How ■could she say, " My Frank believes your Matthew to be dishonest, and is therefore mine no more ?" On the other band, she could only hope to conceal it Foi a brief space, habey, though bowed down by so great a weight of sorrow, Imil still her sympathies for others. " Where is Fr.ink? Why does not Frank comciicrc as usual?" were questions she was suro to ask sooner or later ; and how was sho to bo answered '! It was had enough for Amy to foci the lie between Uucc Stephen and herself strained to the uttermost; till the <>ld cor diality gone, and in the place ot it, on her part, a stern resentment, and on his, a pitiful deprecation of it. On tin: evening of that last interview with Mr Barlow she had told Mr Durham, iv as few words as possible, what had happened between them, It was absolutely nece-sary to do ho (o explain the young lawyer's:abe'nee horn the house, and the old man had listened to herwiih a com posure which, 'though she well knew it was far from indillerence, had made her tank comparatively easy. " I foresaw all lhi», Amy," ho answered quietly. "You tell mv that there was nothing for you but to release him from an engagement which in his view of the case must involve disgrace t« him. You do not tell me that there was another reason fur your separation—but you hud another." " Do not press mo for that, Mr Durham.' "It is unnecessary, Amy, for 1 know it. Yon are silent upon it for my cake, be cause I am in the same condemnation sw Frnnk h'imsflf. Only, because I am Mat thew's unole, and have loved him as n father loves his child, you me content iv my en.to to overlook my transgression." "Of course I can never fo get what you have done for him, and for all of us, Mr Durham." He moved his hand in a deprecating manner. "That is little to the purpose now, my dear. May I ask whether Mr Jlurlow made any explicit statement to you •regarding Ma*then* independently of what lias passeil between you ami me? " "Hc.difl not." "Then you have cast oil' a man of hon our, my dear girl ; one iv a thousand, one in ten thousand." " Do you suppose I do not know that?" inquired she bitterly. "Oh, Faith, F.ith, how hard is the measure you exact from us poor mortals ! " murmured .Uncle Stephen. "Tito Gospel itself was not all good tidings ; a man's foes it says, shall for its sake be those of his .own household. Hnsbai dug-inst wife, and lover against sweetheart !As it wan then, so i', is now. But suppose it is not true, Amy ?" "The Uospel ?" "No ; your faith in Matthew." " To me, Mr Durham, it is as true as Gospel; true as to one who lived in those times and saw the miracles and knew the Man. Pray do not let us two speak of this: it is bad enough to feel that we dillcr upon it." So from that time they never spoke to gether—oh, sad companionship !—of the matter that was nearest to both their hearts and always in their minds. The next morning, while Sabey and her sister were together, there came at Frank's usual hnur—for he now always looked in Iv-fore departing for the City—a ring at the door-lwll. But Amy did not move. "My darling, there is Mr Barlow," said "Sabcy softly. The tears were in her eyes that morning, though they were very rarely there. For the Christinas bells were ringing through the frosty air and awakening terrible recol lections/That "so row's crown of sorrow*1," the remembraDce of happier days, was presnng hard upon her. The world with out was putting on its gayest garments, Poor was the heart indeed that was not to rejoice that day ; but none so poor as hers. "Sir Barlow will not come to-day, Sabsy." "Why not?" she a-^ked with quick anxiety ; for the other's voice had some thing str-<nge in it. "There is nothing wrong cetweou you ?—no quarrel ? >♦' No, darling :no quarrel. But he is not coming here any more." , "'Not coming? What do you mean, Amy ?" site exclaimed excitedly. "If he ias lost-you, it must be my doi' g. Oh, I see what it is ; you havu hem too full of sorrow for me and Matthew. Men cannot bear a.-divided allegiance, and you have chosen between him ai.d mo, to your own ruin," Siihey's. agitation and distress were so exfrume that, although it had been Amy's in'entiou top'it forward sonic such reason (though in a greatly modified form) as bad suggested itself to her sister, to account for her estrangement from her lovVr, she cried out, "NoJ Kabcy; no, indeed, you have nothing to reproach yourself with." "Then, what can it ba that has come between you ? If you have not sent him away for my'sakej it cannot be for your owu. Oh, Amy,,;1 is,'it, possible that Frank is jealous?" 1,-,- Amy bowed in assent, for she dared not trust herself to speak. It was true that -Frank was jealous ; and at all events it was better that her sister should imagine that to-be the cause of their parting than that she should seek further for it. "How sud of him ! how mad of him !" exclaimed Sabey. " I cou'tl never have "believed such a thing of Frank. It must he all explained and made up at once. I myself will go to him, He cannot refuse to..listen to poor me." '""No. dearest, no ;it is no use," said Amy gravely. . ".:'■•' No use ?" cried Sabey. "I will not Velieye itC Things cannot be so bad as that. Oh Amy! 1 have lose my darling through' ho1," fault of his or mine. I adjure jta-^Fwho know what loss is—not to let pride or'piqti^, Or the resolve to own that you-"hive done nothing wrong—though I Sfnow yftu have not—stand between you find thp"man you,love. Of course ho is

mistaken ; it is his devotion to you that has led him aatr&y. Forgive him ; forget all that rankles in your mind. Let me be your ambassadwr; I can plead for another, though I urn weary of pleading for myself';; and Amy, it is my duty to do so. For thougu you sny I am not to blame, yet it was through Matthew that Mr Signet—for tlmt is the man, of course—first entered this house. Oh, do uot let this new misery He at Mathcw's door," She spoke with such force and passionate entreaty as was a marvol to behold, in one of so slight a frame, and weakened by so ninny days and nights of bitterest woe. Amy was deeply Moved, while her em barrassment was greatly increased by her sister's line of argument, i-iace it led, al though by accident, to the very point she had wi-hed to avoid. The cause of Amy's misery did lie at Matthew's door, winch her ncruplcH for the truth prevented h^r from denying point blank. Fortunately, at this moment the maid entered. "If you please, miss, Mr Signet has called, and wishes to see you on very particular business." " Very good ; tell him I will bo 'with him immediately," said Amy. Butwbeu the nuid had gone: "You must not go," said Sabey. " 1 will see Mr Signet instead of you. Of course there is no harm in your seeing him, but Frank will think so.' The breach between you must not be widened." " No, Sabey, no," returned the other resolutely. "Mr bignct has a right to see me ami alone. We have a little secret to gether." " a secret?" interrupted Sabey. " Nothing, dear, that anyone can be jea lous about," continued Amy, with :\ sud smile. " I will never sec lain again save in your presence, I promise you. But this one time I must." "Does Frank know of this secret ?"iu tjuired Sabey gravely. "Hi; does, darling ; nothing can alter what I have been talking to youuhout, but Frank does know." Sabey spoke no more, but sat with that dazed look which sometimes now came over her, and which one sees on (he faces of poor children in the street, whose only mother, Misfortune, has given them, for their dowry, a premature sense of life's burthen, without the knowledge of its nature ; t > whom sorrow i<astbe love of Uod tv hapiiior souls—past undiistiiliding. Amy pressed one passionate kiss uptin her forehead and hurried out uf the room. Mr. Signet had conic, no doubt, she thought, übout the matter of reward he was intending to oiler for the discovery of Matthew in reply to Lady I'argiter's cruel insult. Under such ci numstaticea h might have been expected that the jeweller would have a look of self-satisfaction, but his ap pearance was far otherwise, lie looked pain anil anxious and agitated. " Dear Miss Amy, 1 have bad news," wore his first words. " We iue used to that in this house," she answered bitterly. "If you had good new* I should say, 'Break it gently' ; but as it is, there is no fear. What is it?" "Well, that is good a way to look at it, perhaps, as under the circumstances is pos sible, ivy dear young lady. We now kuow the worst, thats all." "Then, Matthew in dead?" She had overrated her strength, and felt the room go round with her us she put the question ; her hand mechanically nought the wall to support herself, lint when the jeweller hurried foiwa, d tootrerherhisasaistau(>-,she waved him off with an expression that wa almost one of lon thing, "lam better now." she said in alow but rcpolu'c tone. "I can hear the truth : what is it ?" '• Well, 1 am very sorry—sorry f.ir myself, of course ; but, if you will only believe it, Miss Amy, ten times more 8 irry for you— but it's all up about Mr Ilulston. lie is not dead ; no, no, not that.'' "Thank Heaven, thank Heaven!"mur mured Amy. " But they have brought it home lo him about the jeweh. He is in Paris, trying to j sell them. Ho has been seen there." " It is false !" cried Amy. ft "My dear young lady, it is true. There can be no two opinions about the matter. I have it from Sir Charles Pargiler's own mouih. This is how H happened. 1 ad vertised the rewa'd, as ajreed upon, giving it to her in Moor Street pretty still', as you may fee —it's in the paper here—and I also printed some placards. One of them was left at her door last evening in return for her kiudncss to Mrs Helston. It fell into the hands of Sir Charles, it seems, who came round to me in person. He is not a bad sort, taking him alliound, and lie hates his wife like poison. ' Now, look here, Signet,' he Rays, 'you and 1 have no quarrel together.' (As indeed we have not, for, between ourselves* I have done him a good turn in my.time.) 'Well, I have seen that precious placard of yours, which has driven my lady half-frantic. You are running your he id against a stone wall, my friend. The murder's out.' 'Murder?' said I. ' You don't mean to say poor HeUtou is murdered?' 'Not he,' says ho; 'he's alive enough, and in Paris. My friend, Major Lovell ' Do you know that name, Miss Thvtriow ?" " I know the name," said Amy, brcathiug hard, and with her hand upoa her heart to still its beating. • " I thought so. He bad something to do with sonic young person—name of Mayson —had he not? Well, ths man has setn Helston, nnd in her company." "It is false; the man has lied," said Amy vehemently. Mr Signet shook his head and smiled, half-roguishly, half-pityingly. "No, my dear young lady, it is unfortunately true. These things will happen in the best regu lated—l mean', in the most unexpected quarters. I will do lirail the justice to say that he always thought it was so. So far as the diamonds are concern) d - I mean who lias got them the whole thing is at an end." "Then, why are you comq here?" in quired Amy sternly. " Nay. you should not ask that," return ed the jeweller reprovingly. " I was in hopes, my dear young lady, that yon would have guessed why. The jewels, 1 say, are gone, I am afraid irrevocably ; and it is I who will have to bear the loss. Twenty live thousand pounds is a large sum for any man to pay out of picket. But it wont ruin Star and Signet. ISo.not if it had been three tunes as much, as the diamonds are withoutdotibt iv Helston's possession,'! ady Pargiter is no longer responsible for their loss and she has no more interest in prose cuting him. It is I, in fact, who become the prosecutor. Now, I don't mean to pro secute Matthew Helston. Can you guess why?" "Indeed, sir, I cannot, answered Amy slowly. She experienced some difficulty in collecting her thoughts, like one who has but just recovered from some physical blow. "Matthew is no more guilty of this crime Mr Signet, than I am. I don't care what Major Lovell says, nor what any man suys; nor would I believe an angel from Heaven —who would, however, only seem like one, for he must have been sentfrom the Father of Lies to say such things! nevertheless, I admit that, from your point of view, you are acting with great generosity. You wish to spare us ; you would forbear to add another weight to the load it has pleased God to lay upon my poor sister."

" i am not thinking of your s.h'.G', Mi»H Amy," returned the jeweller frankly, ".though of course I am aocry for her. What I wish to say is, .that I am prepared to foeego my claim upon the roiesiiin jewels \ — though I "need not say I would recover ' them if I could ; to abstain from taking any proceedings against your brother - in - law ; and, ira a word, to hush up this unfortunate matter, in return for j'ast one little word from your lips. You are astonished, my dear young lady, I see. Perhaps you thought that a man in my .position circs for money only, whereas, for my own part, I only care for what it bungs; for it does tiring things, and good thiug<\ I hope you will learn io like me for myself a little ; but unless there bad been home dill'erence between our positions in that way I should not have ventured to thus address you, there being Mich considerable disproportion in anoihor. I need say no more on that head, for you ore sharpness itself; that is one of the many things for which I admire you, my dear Miss Amy ; you are t-o intel ligent—indeed, in every way to desirable— and, I am sure, a perfect lady, Perhaps you think that I should repent at some future time having cast in my lot with one who has the misfortune to be connected with - ahem !—there is no need to pursue that Hibjcct; 1 can only say that, if your hesitation arises from that consideration, it becomes you." . " It does not arise from any such source, Mr Signet," returned Amy firm'y. "If I have seemed to hesitate to reply to .you, it was for your own s-ake : I have been endea vouiingto place myselt in your position; my difficulty has been to persuade myself thai, you had nu intention of insulting me." " Bless my soul ! " ejaculated Mr Signet. "1 acquit you of any such purpose, sir," she continued. " You could not have un derstood my position ; nay, more, I per ceive tlitt I ought to be grati-ful to you, that you have proposed to yourself a self sacrilic; which I ought to appreciate. My unhappy ciicumstances must be my excuse for tint entertaining that feeling. It is not that, however, which prevents me from ne cepting what I understand to be your ofi'er of marriage ; under to possible circum stances could I accede to it." "You surprise me very nvu-li indeed," said Mr Signet. "If you would but take time to think about it——" "Oythe contrary," interrupted Amy, "I shall endeavour to forget about it. I may have sin prised >ou, hut I cannot have dis tros cd you, Mr •- ignct. As for my o*n part, I can only thank you for a compliment misplaced ' How it was Amy loft the room Mr Signet never quite understood ; he only knew that be suddenly found himself alone in it, mop ping his forehead with a pocket-handker chief. "'A compliment'!" he murmured. " What the deuce did she mean by that? Twenty-five thousand pounds as good as gone, and the girl gone too ! And she talks of compliments ! Never in all my life was I connected with a speculation so disas trous. 'J here ruust be .something, surely,to the pcrconlm" It was his sanguine habit to believe this whenever anything went wiong with htm in trade. " Perhaps there's madness in the family ; that's it !—she's < mad. She must be mad to have refused a man like me. Iv \fhich case, I've had a ljiicky escape."

CHAPTER XLIV. MB BARLOW TAKES ACTION. Mr Frank Barlow had' as cheerful a way of regarding his disappointments in business us Mr Samuel Signet; neither was he defi cient in egotism ; hut what placed him at b great disadvantage as compared with the jeweller was that he was unable to regard a maltor of the affections as a business transaction, He was not of a romantic turn of mind; he had never addressed a sonnet to his mistress's eyebrows, nor, in deed, even written a wind of poetry in his life ; he was in fact, in most icspeots, of a conventional type; but he was capable of intense emotion. Ho could not, of course, in this par icnlar compete with persons of the Byronic temperament, but his feelingi were more lasting ; he had not, like them, the jiowcr of .transferring his affections from one object to another; when Polly gave him the cold shoulder he could not take up with Jenny. His love, like that of a woman, was personal; and whoa Amy Thuilow rejected him,lie felt as forlorn and desolate as a maiden of six aml-thiny who has been jilted. Even when hope revived within him—as, being but six-and-twenty, it was bound to do—it was directed to the same goal. Dinnerless and supperless, he had gone over by his solitary lire all that Amy had said ; and again, sleepless on lrisicouch, lie had revised all the circumstances of his position. That Matthew Helston was guilty of stealing Lady Pargiter's diamonds he'euuld not doubt; and Amy had said she would have no relations—not even those of friendship—with anyone who held that opinion. Jsut sooner or later she herself could not tail to be convinced of his guilt, when, of course, this interdict must lose its force. Again, she had declared, if her brother-in-law was proved to have com mitted the crime in question, that she would never consent to ally herself with an honest man. A quixotic determination which lime perhaps migbt modify, and es pecially if some other agent could be found to work with it. He could not earn her gratitude by proving Matthew ionocent.but he might do so,peruarjs,by saving him from the consequences of his crime, and still more by inducing him to make reparation for it. In Matthew, then, strange to say, Mr Barlow's hope was placed ; and.onco having a matcriil object in view, he was not a man to lose lime in taking action. The next morning he dispatched a letter to his partner explaining that important private nllnirs would necessitate for a few days his absence from om'ce ; and having packed bis portmanteau, he called a han som and dr .ye • of "11 places in the world — to Mr Signet's establishment in Paulet Street. The jeweller was not at home, having, in fact, just- started for Cavendish Grove ; but Mr Brail happened to be in the inner room (as usual, with his eyes ami ears, op n), and came "out to him at once, on hearing him give his name to the shopman. ■ "Just come in here a moment, Mr Bar low," be suid. leading the way into the inner apartment, "You are come about the Helston ali'air, of course ?" Mr Barlow nodded assent. " Ah ! then you have not seen Mr Sig net, t conclude; he has just gone up your way." " No, I have not seen him." " Well,he has taken bad news with him. The whole thing has burst" (he said ' bust ) "up. Sir Charles Pa'giter wns hero last night— as a friend - to warn us that we were only throwing good money after bad in de fending Mr Bclston's character." " Indeed !'' said Mr Barlow; " that was a strange step for Sir Charles to take." ''Nodoubt; you as a lawyer, would nccccs sarily see ihat. Nevertheless, 1 have no doubt, it was all on the s-quaro. Helston has been seen in Paris in <>ompany with a young woman—an oU ilatne of his." " "Who saw him ?" " One Major Lovell, an old flame of hers " " Which Buggrsts motive for his state ment," observed the lawyer.

"It wouJd under ordinary circumstances of couise ; lmt 1 do not think so in this cssc. 1 was here when Sir Charles arrived, a.nd saw the Major's letter. It seemed to ;mo to express a certain regret that he should be the means ot bringing Helston's offence home to him. '■' My friendship for you and Lady Pargiter, agahist wham such infamous insinuations have been directed with regard to this affair," he nays "com pels me to disclose what Iknow. Helston is in Pans with Plucbe Mayson, and has been endeavouring to dispose of the diamonds. This is trucjor I luivc seen her."' ''Those are his very words, are tbqp?" inquired Mr Barlow. '• You can see for yourself. I had the opportunity of taking a note of. them." And Mr Brail handed his little memorandum book to the lawyer for his inspection. "I don't read anything here about seeing the young woman in Hels'.on's company," said Mr Barlow drily. " 'J rue ; Sir Charles no doubt jumped to that conclusion. It's a Haw, however. And there is still the matter of Lady Partner's not having Helston s receipt left unexplain ed. If they can prove, nevertheless, what is said here, that he is trying to sell the diamonds, our last chance is over. But I think Mr Signet is too precipitate in throw ing up the sponge. However, he is the master, and has so sett'edit." "Is Mr Signet going to do nothing fur-! ther, then ?" '' Nothing. If things had been permitted to take iheir proper course, 1 should have been iv Paris by this time. But there are wheels within wheels." "Mr Signet does not wish to prosecute, I suppo-e "!" opserved Mr Barlow, speaking as indifferently, as he could, but growing very ted. Mr Brail laid hn forefinger to his nose. "That's it," he said. "In my opinion, we slum d nevcrlet private sentiments inter fere with business matters; but that is his affair." " And j'b no attempt to be made to re cover the diamonds?" Mr Brail shrugged his shoulders. "I have no instructions to that effect, though every hour lost diminishes our chances ex ceedingly. I shall do my best, however, to persuade Mr Signet to offer a reward for th m." " There can oe no narm in that," assented Mr Barlow. " The fact is, I'm oil' to Paris to-day for the very purpose of recovering these diamonds; and if you will help me to i get them, and we succeed, the reward shall be yours." " You mean that we sJjall go halves !". " I doa't want the money; my object, I frankly tell you, is to get this unhappy man to make restitution." " Very right and very proper, I'm sure," said the detective. " Your feelings do you honour. It's a matter of a thousand pounds, though," he added drily, "for neither Lady Pargiter nor Mr Signet have yet with drawn their oilers for the discovery of Mr Helston himself," i " That I have nothing to do with," an swered the lawyer. '' l am not a thief i catcher." " I mean no offence, Mr Barlow. I have know many gentlemen who have had a taste that way ; though I agree with you it i* not to their credit. The amateur lias no right to take the bread out of the mouth of the professional. It would be very hard, you would think, if any gent took up your own line, for example, fo>- mere love of it, and gave good law, free, gratis, *or nothng, to their fellow-creatures." " It would be a most unprecedented in fringement of etiquette," observed Mr Bar low with natural indignation. "Just so. Well, what can Ido for yon in this matter, sir?" "Three things: I want one of those photographs which Mr Signet has haj taken from the portrait of MrHelstou ; I want an accurate drawing of the missing diamonds ; and I want Major Lovell's adu'ress iii Paris In return for these iavours I promise to hand over to you any reward MrSignet may bein duced to oiler for the jewels, if I am"so for tunate as to recover them." " Well, sir, of course it's a little irregu lar," observed Mr Brail hesitatingly, " but in the interests of my employer—and on the understanding you have mentioned—l feel I should do wi ong to refuse you. Perhaps you wouldn't object to sign a little memo randum?" " I will sign nothing," said Mr Barlow peremptorily. "I do not wish my name lo appear in any transaction respecting Mr Helston ; and I am not accus'.omed to have my word doubted." "Pray don't imagine that, my dear sir," said Mr Brail with precipitation. " I have every confidence in you, I am sure ; and besides," he added naively, "there is no option. I think I know where to lay my hands upon the photograph and the draw ing—in fact, here they are—and the Major is staying at the Louvre Hotel." "Thanks. Now, is there anything, Mr Brail, that your experience can suggest as to my method of procedure ? " " Well, in these cases one can draw no ground-plan; one must act according to circumstances. If jou were familiar with the appearance of the lady who, as I always suspected (though I have not the advantage of her acquaintance) was at the bottom of this matter—then indeed " " I have got her photograph in my pocket," interrupted Mr Barlow. "Indeed !" exclaimed Mr Brail, with a genuine vote of admiration. His face for once expressed his feelings, and ■what it said was, " You are by no means the fool I took you for." "Just let me look at it." •'l*have seen this young lady before," murmured the detective. " Where ? Under what circumstances ?" "Ah, there you puzzle me. I never for get a face, but I sto a good many of them, and cannot always find the place to suit it. I don't know where I have seen her; but I am afraid it was not in clmrch. Well, if you find her you will lind Helston. I wish I was iv your (■hoes," he sighed, looking fondly at the photograph. " Your gallantry, m; is very much out of place, observed Mr Barlow sternly. This respectable young fellow, who felt himself in, a false position in this affair from first to last, was genuinely scandalise). "Gallantly!" exclaimed Mr Brail. "Pooh, pooh, sir ! you quite mistake me. What I meant was that, if it was I who had the business in hand, I could make this lady useful. If I can read faces, she i'< fickle. For a fifty pound note she would sell the gentlemen." " Oh, I see." said Mr Barlow, atleast as much in disgust as in apology; " I have no wish, however, to buy him." "Very true. But if she would sell the man how much more would she mak» some bar gain about the diamonds—that is, if they arc not already disposed of! Mr Barlow, it may be of importance to you to have some one in London ou whom you can rely to take immediate action, if any need for action should arise. This ismy professional address, where a telegram ■will reach me at all hours. I wish I was going with you, or even without you. I should go on my own hook but that I maue it a rule never to take up a case which my employer has thought fit to abandon. Your game will be a little difficult, no doubt; but that only adds to the pleasure ot winning it; and even if you lose it, well, you will have had the pleasure of the play. Good-by to you, sir, and good luck !"

" Good-by," returned Mr Barlow, some. what ruefully. In spite of the attractions attributed to, it by Mr Brail, he would very gladly liave handed over his errand to that gentleman, if only it could have been effected by I deputy. Even at the very best—that is, If he should discover Helston .and meet him, face to face—the prospect was a most un. pleasant one. The last time he* had met. him had been at HcMon's table as his. guest and friend, It had bfen his dearest wish to become connected with him by a, closer tie. The man had now disgraced himself and all belonging to him, and the best that could be hoped for was that he: might be found willing to make reparation! But in any case, how embarrassing must, be their meeting ! As Mr Brail had hinted,. it would also probibly Ijb necessary for him" to make acquaintance with this disreputable^ yoiing woman; and even Major LovelL himself was by no means an individual \vith» whom he would voluntarily have held inter, course. If the matter bad been a pro fessional one, of course, he would havo' known how to deal with it ; but as thin™,, stood he would be so hampered in his actions by private considerations that he could form no plan of procedure before* hand. Moreover, though that was a com paratively small thinjj. Mr Barlow had received * an exceptionally good EnglisH education ; so thai, though lie could hava quoted Horace fmm the original where Mr Signet could only have cited '"Ihe Hand* book of Quotations," he knew nothing whatever of the French language. "The Continent" was, therefore, as "dark"to< him as that of Africa was to its latest explorer, nor had he a faifhful native to guide bis steps and interpret his ideas. This, it may be thought, was a small thing to a man who had such important interests • at stake, and whose future happiness might depend upon the result of his mission. But sn< h'was not the case. One has only to be taken ill, or to have some dear one' taken ill. or to receive some bummons that icquires instant attention, or, in short, to ,hi' affected in any serious way, when out oii one's own country, to appreciate the infinite inconvenience of that circnmstancc, and how its small but incessant embarrassments increase one's troubles. And if that happens to those even who are masters of the modern languages (like you and me, rcader),|how'much more must it affect those ignorant of all tongues but their own. . , (To be couliuued.)

ABANDONED AT SEA.

EIGHTEEN MEN LEFT ON A DISABUED BARQUE.

■ Makshfield (Or.), March 14.— Lait evening a boat containing three sailors, named H dward O'Neill, Charles lawson, and Hugh McDonald, came in over the Coos bay bar. They were from the barque Bulwark, and report that she foundered in latitude 45 degrees 7 north, longitude 145 weet, on' March Ist. They were then twenty-eight days from Yokohama, bound for Puget Sound, in ballast. There were three men in the boat when she was lowered, but owing to the rough sea the boat got adrift before the balance oftliecrew could get on board, and on the following morning the ship was out of sight. Anotheu boat was launched at the same time, but met with the same fate and was not seea again. The officers and crew, eighteen in number, were left oh board without a ssfe boaf,aud were probably lost. The ship was leaking badly when their boat left, and the men say she could not Hole more than a few hours.

Edward O'Neil, one of the survivors of the bark Bulwark, reports as follows;— ---" We left Yokohama about February Ist in ballast; encountered very heavy weathet and the ship commenocd leakicg badly; We, Btrut!»led on until March Ist under great difficulties. The pumps choked, the ballast, shifted, aod finally we tojk to bail ing from holes cut in the deck. Then all hope of keeping the vessel afloat was, abandoned. At S o'clock the mate called all hands aft, said the ship was unseaworthy, and every man for himself. Volunteer* Wfcic called to drop the lee boat astern. I, with.two others, responded, andsucceededV The ship would not auswer her helm, and the other boat was put over on the weather side with two men iv it, and went adrift, We passed an oar to them ss it dritted by, but they could not hold on, owing to the rough sea. The crew commenced to haul on our boat, a<d the line got foul of the ruddtr and had to be cut loose. Soon we. gotouttbe oais, and pulled up under the! lee side. They threw us another line, which we made* fast to the boat. This was a Email lioe, which soon parted, and we went adrift. We tried to pull back to the ship again, but couldn't do so in the heavy sea. The ship was leaving as ail the time. Two of the men in the boat having been jammed in droppiog the boat astern, were uuable to handle the oars. We had neither mast nor sail, and the boat was half-full of water, and we were ex hausted from bailing before going into the boat. We kept the boat before the sea in the direction the vessel went, and palled as long as we were able. " It was about 10 o'clock at night when we broke adrift,, and we soon lost sight of the vessel, as there was no moonlight. The next morning we could see nothing of her. We then rigged an oar for a mast, and cuta sail out of the spare ship's sail that was in the boat, and having a compass we steered' tor the nearest land, the captain having told us it was 900 miles off Knowing the ship's course, we steered more to the east, bo as to more quickly reach the land. We encoun*. tered very heavy weather in the boat Wa r shipped a sea which half filled her with water, and broke the glass ot our compass. We bailed her out, and put her on the-, other tack, which made her lay better to; tbe wirjd. We sighted nothing for twelve days, and then saw a vessel at night, and' burucd a blue lislit, but they were too far. off to see up. On the thirteenth morning: we sighted land about 630 a.m., and, fetched into Empire "City, following. Che schooner Annie Lee,■ which wfl.'hsd1, sighted about noon.' Wo followed in her wake and arrived in safety, being hospit ably rectiverl. There were four boats on the vessel, and not one fit to stand a heavy sea. The crew consisted of twenty-three, all told, including the officers. One of the , bats that was left on the ship had been, stove in." ' ',",, -

Mill and Christianity.

Mill was doubtless able to state and to give reasons for his own view of the plan j of the universe. He was also qualified to. •:.<, discuss particular portions of the ground- fc work of the prevailing creeds. I think, \ however, that he was too little versed in 'the writings of theologians to attack their doctrines with any effect He absented* himself during his whole life, except as a mere child, from religious services. He scarcely ever read a theological book. _ He could not hflp knowing the main pofdtion of theo'ogy from our general literature. That, however, was scarcely enough for1 i basing an attack upon Christanity along;, . ; the whole line.—Dr. Bain's J, S. Mill. ,«f;

g^AR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, MAY £7 : 1882

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