STAR SAT URDAY SUPPLEMEN T.

AUCKLAND, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21, 1882

THE BITERS BIT.

Viien tic "confidence" swindle, now so familiar to us, was a now thing, my brother became one of its victims on the occasion of ash n t visit to London. He was defrauded by this inojna of a valuable diamond ring, but s<> ashamed was he at his own simpli city that ho never told » soul of the affair except ng m. self, and he replaced the ring ■with a spurious one, very much like it, for a few shillings. After, however, wearing it for a few weeks, uo laughingly made me a present of it, saying that he could not bear to have staring in his face a constant reminder of his credulity. I took the gift in the spirit with which it was given, and carried it about in my waistcoat pocket, little thinking that the woithlcss thing would perform a similar good service to that effected by the piece of lead for Has san the liopemaker, in tho "Arabian Nights."

I was in London about thrco months after my brother's loss, and went out one morning for a stroll. Before starting, how ever, 1 delibc ated, with a countryman's charac'oistio misgiviuq, whether I'should ■wear my own watch and cbain, or whether, as a precaution against pick pockets, I s'lould put on my imitation cbain and ■dummy watch—the former a tolerable copy ■of my own chain, made of some vile alloy, and the later a lump of metal enclosed in a "wash-leather bag. I fin ,lly decided to com promise the matter, and accordingly wore My own chrouonictcr and appendages', but deported the sham affair in my poiko^. I had spjnt half-an-hour ia .Kegent's street, when, just after finishing my in spection of sjine photographs in a shop window, I was politely accosted by a well dressed straruor, who, displaying my haod kerchief, Baid with an engaging smile, " Pormit me the pleasure of restoring this. I think I rccjvertd it very neatly," he added, with a laugh. "I had my oyc on a suspicious-lcoking fo low who stood bubind jou, and saw hia purpose, but not in time to warn you. However, ho had not taken more than two steps away from you when my hand was on his tboulder, and I quickly made him disgorge his prey.'1 "Perhaps you will say)" ho continued, ufter I had expressed my thanks to him, " that I ought to have given the fellow in charge, but the tact i*, 1 strongly object to figure in police reports, and probably you miiy have a titnilar dislike to such un pleasant publicity." Altar talking in a very voluble manner at oat the incident, my new acquaintance mggosttd that we should take a ulass of wine together, "as it was awkward to chat in a busy street." 1 am naturally of a convivial disposition, and could not bar the idea of appealing to bo scond in politeness, so I begfied he would withdraw his proposal and allow mo to make it instead, which he courteously permitted. In another minute we ware at a "wive bar, pledging each other good wishes, ■while he continued to keep the conversation flowing in a not unamuaing atraio. We hud been there probably five minutes when a burly, blundeiing fellow, who had come cloje to 113 at the bar, with an awkward movement of his hand knocked over my companion's glass and broko it. He^was profuse, however, in apologies, atd insisted upon replacing the wine, which, with the glass, he paid for out of a handful of sovereigns.

"Alow, common fellow, I should judge," said my companion in ah under-tone to me, "but apparently very rich. I think I shall be obliged to wi-h you good morning, for 1 havo an appointment at my club at one. Will you kindly tell mo tho time? My own watch broke ita main-spring last night," I pulled out my watch and gave him tae Lour,

Here the new-comer broke in with aup^ ploracntory apologies.

"I am sure, gentlemen, you would for give mo f.r my cursed awkwardness if you knew what asttto ii excifenicitf I am in. Do you anifr, t'outleaieu !" he (interrupted himself by a king, at the mini! time offering a fine gold snulf-box. In the act of open ing it ha displayed a )arge diamond ring, which I riicognis?din,aimooient, from the peculiarity oi its mounting. It was the very ring my brother had lost, , Too words were on the tip oE my tongue, " I know ihat ring ; how dd you come by it?" when, on hastily scanning the wearer, I found he answered precisely the descrip tion my brother cave me of one of the men who had robbed him, and I at once cnn'rollcd inyelf, and determined to act with the utmort caution, for I saw that I was in the company of some members of tho " coufiiicnco" gang, and that I was selected for a victim.

"Look 'ere, gentlemen, how would you fell if you was a small struggling farmer in the jcountry, and suddenly came into pos session of twenty thousand pounds? T-we-n-t-y th-ou-s-a-nd pounds, gentlemen. Wouldn't that be calkilated to upset all your soncrsidedncss, and make you feel as if yon did not; kn»w whether you stood on your lioad or your heols ? Well, them's my feelings, and 1 "ask you to pwaon me accordingly. .How, you'd think that a man as had had a h«rd pull to make ends meet, and to pay bis way honestly, would be likely to vally money when he got it, bat that ain't my case. I feels as if it wasn't the money that was the enjoyment, but the spending of it. Now, for instance, if it was'nt takiu' too great a liberty, 1 should like to ask you two gues's to oome and take dinner at my expense."

" My goid friend," aaid my companion, "let me peraude yon to be more careful of jour money. What do you know of our respectability? As it happens, you me perfectly safe with us, but how easily you might fall among thiores, who would turn your pockets inside out in no time, or cheat you out of it at cards, or in a thousand other rascally ways." " No offence meaut, gentlemen,but don't you think it's one sim of a true born gentleman when he shows confidence in the honesty of his fellow men? I don't pretend to have had much tchool learning, but I do know what is due from a msn who sets up for one of the upper ten thou sand, and I intend to practize it ss near as I can. Now, I have no more dmbt of your honour than I have of my own, and 1 should like to show the coWMence I feel in ; you. Now here's this diamond riog" (pulling it off his finger). ' This is worth £70 if it is worth a fattbing. yet I would trust you out of tight with it for ton minutes without a moment's hesitation. "Just iry mo," he cmtinucd, pressing it upon my companion; "you and your friend take it outside, and I'll wait horo patiently till you fcol inclined to come back." ■ Wo hesitated, my companion lookiDg at ths ring and then at its owner with, a good natured, but irresolute smile.

" Go ou," said the farmer. My companion laughed pleasantly, and Baid to me— " This is rather an amusing incident. Supposing we humour our friend." "All right," I assented; "I don't mind," and accordingly went out. " What s'raigo people you meit wUh in this great city," said my companion. " But there is soinetiiiu.« very interesting in the honest truthfulness and simplicity of our idem!. This ring is undoubtedly of great "Will you allow mo to look at it ?" I

nsked. " Certuiuly," he responded. We arc joint custodians." I scrutinised it for a, moment, satisfied myself that it wai my brother's ring, and returned the spurious one, which I had ready in my hand. '• Well, we may as well return to aonest Joskins," suggested my companion. "Thcra, gentlemen," said the fa'mer, "mw neither of you would place tho same trust in me, I bet." "You are mistaken, my friend," said my new acquaintance. "I am but a poor man conipan d with you, br t you may take a similar liber y with my purse, in which yon will find just eleven pounds in notes and soy reigns." " Well done, my friend," said the farmer, with a hearty slap on the shoulder, "such conlidoccoas this docs one good, and you fhftll toko no harm from it, believe me. Bui your friend m iy as well come out wi'.h me to SCO that all's fair."

"Not at all necessary, I am satisfied," rejii' ed my companion. " 0 yes, come along sir," said the far mer, aud I again took my part in the larcc.

11 aoir," said ho, when wo had reached tho atreot, " I shall make your fried a present of five pounds for this. I haven't felt no delighted for many a day." 1 made some suitable reply, and we priucntly returned, when tha farmer proised a five-pound note upon my "Mend" as promised, who thereupon ordered another glass of wine for each on the strength of it. " Probably a five-pound note is of no importance to jou," my " friend'" took an opportunity to say in a discreet whisper, '• but yon might give it to sowe charity, and at any rate you will have the satifiac tion ot feeling that yon have prevented its being squandered in other and much worse ways, if I were you, I should earn it in the same innocent manner as 1 did."

" But I have no money about me oxcopt iog a few thillings," I said. "There's your watch and chain," be suggested. I had taken the precaution to substitute the spurious watch and chain in tho earlier part of the interview, so I said— " Well, it will look strange, perhaps, if I hold aloof," and immediately addressing mytelf to the farmer (who had been engaged in regaling the ears of the barman and one or two idUrs with an account of his good fortune), I said i bad an equal desire to show my confidence in his iotegri'y, if be ''would test me by taking possession of these," at the same time offering the wash leathor bvig and contents with the spurious chain.

" With all the plcasara in the world; my bey," said the farmer, gulping down the rest of hie nine, and inviting my companion to go out with him. They went out, and 1 then turned my attention to a third man, who had. been taking the apparent interest of an idler in our addressing', and who now addreesed me.

" You are in luck, I should think," said this fellow, " that roan seems to have more money than he knows what to do with."

"Yes," said I, with simulated un easiness. "Do yon think he is honest?" "0, he's right enough. Beiides, jooi friend went ont to take care of him. They'll be bnck in a minute." Then, proceeding to the door, he con tinued : " There toey are; they are now coming back." And he was himself just disappearing when I caught him by the collar and pulled him back, He blustered acd swore, but looked rather frightened. "Wow," faid 1 sternly, " you are ono of the gang, I know; and your friends have bolted ; but you may tell them that the watch and chain they bare got are not worth, five shillings, and that I have recovered the diamond ring they stole .from my brother three months ago. Now, call a policeman, give me into custody, and I will stand the brant before a magistrate." "You give me up that ring, you thief," he said, setting hia teeth and clenching his hands and looking fearfully ferocious. And he was pouring abuse and threats upon mo when I called to the landlord to sond for a policeman immediately ; but tho fellow had bolted before the officer ap peared, and I taw no more of him or his fellow rascals. E.P,

What the Zulus Think of London.

We iist dismiss from our minds tho idea that the Zulu chiefs now in London are " untutored savages." They seem to laugh aud talk or sit silent, are amused or bored, pleased or put out, very much like any one el«o. The King himself is every inch a King (and there is a good many inches of kingship about him), and he ha« all the dignity and urbanity that becomes his posi tion. He is said to be a very good fellow, and he bears tho signs of good fellowship on hi 3 face. He is as much interested in solid talK as he seems displeased with frivolous chatter But he is too preoccupied. It is difficult to find out exactly what he thinks about things. He is wrapped up m a certain reserve, notwithstanding all his bonhomie. The chiefs are n. ore approach able They talk like intelligent men, and appi'ar to m interested in every thine coins on round them. They do not dulike the people. They we pleated even with the little crowd that continually hang outside their draw-ng-room window, and when one of them moves, and this little crowd give a little cheer, he waves his hat in friendly recognition to them. The Zulus are.a

littlo overcome ijy tho enormous throrjgs of human beings in London. "Moro people in this one place thivn in all Zululand—men, women, and children—moro than in Basutoland, too; moru than in all South Africa." On:) would say they would never think of lighting fngland again. To begin with, they like tho tngliah ; but then also what is the uso of fighting with such num bers? They would feel iiko the fuith'ul sepoy at Lucknow, who, as he shot down the rebels storming up to the breach, was overheard saying ''Fools!" (only his lan guage was OrieDtul strength) "if you hid ever been at Lang's Hottl, Bond-street, Piccadilly, and seen the people pass by, you would not think you could fight tho .Eng lish." In the same way our visitors have a juater appreciation now of what the oddß are : tho more so, perhaps, >s tuey are im pressed by tho mass rather than by the in dividuals, In the same way thoy can hirdly distinguish the great buildings from the nuall. Tho Colonial Office is not a grratcr marvel than KcnsiDgton Uigu strcot. Tho wonder is not so much at tno buildings as that all theso buildings should by built " just by men." It would bo well for the Zulus to have such buildings, but they cannot build them for themrclvoa. "Houses would bo very nice in Bummer during the hot weather, but in tho winter they would bo too cold. One could not keep warm in them. They would bo too open. Wo could rot gather round tha fire. Tho fireplace, yes j but that would not bo tho samo thing. 80, they are nice in summer, but not for winter."

They have not been Very mnch about yet. They went to the House of Commons. They did not understand what was said, but they wero impressed by the orderliness that prevailed, and by .peop'c sitting quiet to listen till their own turn enmu. Jhe building was very magnificent Again, thoy were much iinpres-cd by their visit to tbc docks—such numbers pf ; but they did not understand much. \Vh»t struck them most was the way the gates were opened and tha water ltt out and the ship went under the bridges. The Zoological Gardens were a great rriaml. They had seen the lions and o'hor great beasts in the veldt, but they Had to hurry home before, night'a'l, lest the beasts should cat them. That men should keep lion* and hytenas in houses was Bitch a complete turning of the tables on them that thoy would not have believed unless thoy had seen.it.

Had thoy seen any roldiers ? Yes, tboy had seen the Guards, veiy fine troops, and had heard the hand play. They thought it was a ptctty, but they did not und«ts'and it. There was not iwiso enough ; but on the other hand, it was extraordinary that so few men should be able to make so much noise. In fact, the most prominent im passion on their minis appears to be that of wonder that men should have been able to do all they saw; that men should have built all these houses, have made aU these docks ; have shat up the wild beasts in cages; that men should make the trains go so quickly; that so few men should make so much music. Beyond that they are evidently overcome by the magnitude of everythioir. They are in a ftate of won der at the miles ot docks, the miles of houses, the millions of people. They do not understand them, but they marvel at the fcale of everything. Probably their feelings are not very different from those ihat would be felt by Alfred and his thanes or Harold and his jarls, if they_ could frevisit thus the glncpsrs of I heir once amlliarland, and see the London of to-day. The Zulu view of London must be not un like that ot the Italian peasant in Virgil's Eclogue, who had been to Kome expecting to find it merely a larger version of the country town to which he was wont to drive his lambs to market, just as he knew that dogs were merely larger puppies and Kids were like their dams ; but when be got there he found that there was a difference lv kind, and the city was as superior to all other towns as the cypress to the limber osier. Just such, we can imagine, is the difference betwec-n the Zulu kraal anil ihe London house ; and as great the difference between London and Cape Town. They aro overwhelmed with wonder,and they are delighted with their new impreHjionc But in spite of all the novelty'and magnificence, in spite of the dread of the rough sea, which tliey evidently look forward to with civilised honor, their eyes brighten, and they lift up tbeir hands and speak like an Attorney- General at the end of session and sittings wheu asked if they would like to go borne again. Yes, indeed ! — "Pall Mall Gazett.e"

A Woman's Adventures in a Balloon.

At Oswcgo, N.Y., Mdllc. Adcle, the ■•uronaut, raudo an asccucion and dropped finally into Lake Ontario. Sbc thus describes her prril :— "Afier ttie balloon rose it tended north ward and began to iippioach the lake. 1 threw out a winter cloak, thinking it might rite into a dillerent current which would tukc tho balloon away tiom the lake, but it still continued to work nothward, and when OTtr the wost breakwater I cut oil tho an chor-ropo, and it prcstnttd a curious eight as it fell. The wutcr below looked nearly black, and I'knew 1 had attained a great elevation and was still rising. Shortly aftar the balloon was enveloped in a heavy anow-storm and for a few niomonta I could tee nothing but the white snowflukus be neath mo. The snow melted on tho balloon and filled the cordage with water and the additional weight caused it to settle sunic what, so that in a few moments I came in sight of tho lake. I hung out the red signal flag, and fastened on my cork jacket, and saw the boats, but could not tell which was the life-boat, I taw a steam tug and thought it waa comin? to my aid, I kept swinging the balloon towards tho shore, thinking I could keep it near enough to tho beach to strike on land which I saw (probably JNine Mile l'oint), for I dreaded to plung-6 into tho lake. I watched tho ,tug and Baw I was rcocdinp and gradually working [off tho shoro. At this tiras tho tug wns a mere speck iv the dia tanoe. I opened the valve and braced my self in the basict and prepared for the plunge. When tho balloon Btruck the water tho basket turned over on its side, throwing mo over ou my face, and immersed' me up to my shoulders, Tho globe was also partially on its sido. I knew that my only safety was in keeping inside tho bas ket. My wcieht kept it nearly under water, and nil the whilo I was in the water up to my armpits. The wind acted upon the balloon as it would on a sail, and_ it seemed to mo that it went ploughing through the water at a fearful rate, I was on my knees in the basket, and reached it and clung to tho concentrating hoop. I didn't hear tb« whistle of the tug 1 rea lised my condition, and began to calculato the chances for rescue. 1 looked back, and could see no tug, boat, or sail. Off in one direction I saw land, but it seemed to bo far distant, and I was going from it. I resolved to make tho best of ray situation and keep cool. My better judgment said: "Don't bo frightened." in cases of ex treme dnnficr 1 have tho most aelf-poEscs sion, and at such times feel cheerful. As 1 was dragged along I fang: " All my hopes in Thee are staved !" and kept looking over my shoulder for the tug. I must have dragged twenty miuutes when I spied the steam of tho tug in tho distance. I savo utterance to au exclamation of joy. Tuca came the chorus of tho vaso, "He raves me, saves me now !" flow 1 wa'ched that tug can be better imagined than described. I saw they wore gradually gainin» ou mo, but slowly. I must have dragged an hour btfore they overtook me. It occurred to mo that, if I could j:ct the globe near to tho water it would not drag so fast, and 1 reached out and stized a group o£ tho attachments and prosed them do.vu into the water, and that drew the balloon nearer to tho surface. I heaid the tug whi&tle, and nearer and nearer they came, and 1 could distinguish forms and hoar the yell ing. It was tho sweetest music I ever heard.

Rich Men of Ne w York.

SrEA.KI.NG oE incomes, cx-Gov. Mergan's is estimated at $500,003 a year, Kussel Sage's rated at a million to a million and a half, while Jay Gould's in coma can not be less than a half dozen millions. To come down to smaller men, li, L, Stuatt lmi nearly a million a ye*r, while liobevt aud Ogdcn Gos-lct ate each rated at 5250,000. JRenuet is reckoned at^GOO.OOO, D. O. Mills Dqures at §250,000 tuultho Vandcrbilts (William K. and Cornelius) arc not much below him. 'Ihc estate of A. T. Stewart, iv Co. Las an .income of a million, which renders Cornelia S-cwart the richest widow in America. The Astora (John, Jacob, and William) aie (stinmted each st s. million s-lialf, while Win. H. Vanderbilt piobnbly haa live times ibat sum, ana yet nithin li\e minutes' walk from tbu place where iln.sje men live one cau iiud multitudes whose whole life la but a prolonged buttle with famine,

A Victim o f circumstances.

What victims some of us are to circum stances. The ex-captain in the army, vbo lias to keep himself on tLree or four hun dred a year, is to bo pltiod whon his creditors drive him into tho Bankruptcy Court, but his case ia nothiag when you come to compare it with that of a guileless young fellow at Guildford a day or two ago. lie, poor fellow, went to tho house of a widow and took lodgings. And a good surt of fellow ho appeared to ho. Scarcely had he been near the pl^co an hoar before ho invited his landlady to havo a glues cf beer, which she declined, but not to be denied, he went and fetched a pint himself, and on his return incited on the landlady having a glass. It must havo been galling for him to find that Bomebody had tampered with this beer, and he might well have surrendered to his fate when he found the man who wanted snuff (tho very aniclc the beer contained) so closely re sembled him, that it was impossible to toll them apirt. But luck would bavo it so, and no doubt the wisest course the young gentleman could adopt was to go to bed and think about it. But fate pursued him still. By what procoas she worked we cannot tell, but no sooner had tho landlady gone clown stairs after showing him his bed-room, than, quito unconsciously, the unhappy youDg man appears to have crepe from his own bed-room into tho landlady^, quito unconsciously still, havo got under her bod as she camo upstairs again, and, quite unconsciously once more, you bet, have moved the valanco as he lay there, and so disclosed his whereabouts. And what is as remarkable aa any phase of the case.whenhewas called a vagabond and told to como out, and the landlady hurried off to fetch a policeman, ho without know, ing anything about it, scuttled off to bis own room, and when tho myrmidon of the law appeared on the scone was peacefully reposing ia his own bed. When brought before the Guildford Magistrates, he was still unconscious of all his adventures, and for anything wo know may not bo aware even now that he is dining off bread and skilly, and picking oakum for a month,

Orange-Peel.

Thb London " Globe " says: M anufao tutors of marmalade have often been accii seel in this country of purchasing tho orangc-psclcolleclod in tho streets and elsewhere for confectionery purposes ; and the otkerwiso incxplicadfy prompt dis appearance of that UDinvitinEj commodity from Primroae-hill and other places of popular resort after each bank holiday seems to favour the idea. But it is only recently that the trade in orange-peel has really attained commercial importance. New York, however, is now doing a steadily increasing import fcminess. The supply from their own gutters being insuffi citnt to meet the local demand for orange bitters and similar tonics, twelve thousand dollars' worth of orange-peel was imported last year into Mew York alone; and this year an export trade to Francs has also sprung up- 200 sacks, valued at l.OOOdols, were recently dispatched to Havre, Malaga, Spaiu, Trieste, Sicily, the Wo:t ludiee, and lately Florida, divide the oiange-peel trade between them, the best kinds being worth from ten to twelve cents a pound ; but, iv addition to these legiti mate sources of supply, the scavengers of the great European cities are not idle, aud tbeir competition has naturally a tendency to lower the price of peel. At present them is no duty on orange peel coming to New York from any port; but the Com mercial Bulletin would not be surprised if tlic Florida orange-peel shippers should demand protection from " the pauper peel of Europe." Tnis orange peel question i is, in fact, a perplexing and slippery r>ne. It is unsafe to leave the peel on the pavement, on account of the habit that old gentlemen have contracted of fulling down over it; but, on the other hand, those who pick it up ore naturally actuated rather by commercial than by philanthropic liiotlycd, aud it. reappears as marmjlade. A brink export trade to New York might answer our purpose were it not. for the hostile attitude of llorida orange-peel shippers. As it. is, the diifi culty and the orange-peel remain.

Terrible Railway Accident in Germany.

A terrible and deplorably fatal railway accident has taken place in Germany, a country, ■which, as a general rule, baaata an almost entire immunity from tbis par ticular form of disaster. It appears that an excursion train, carrying the extraor dinarily largo number of twelve hundred passengers, started from Ifrcibuvg, in the Black Forest, ou Sunday evening, bound for Colmar. and that when near a village called Hugstetten the engine and carriages left the line, owing to a telegraph-post haviog fallen in the way of the train. During a hurricane the post had been blown down, and the locomotive must have run into the obstruction iv the darkness, whilo the engine driver was ia per fect ignorance that any danger was to be apprehended. The results, as were hitherto reported, arc most calamitous. Accounts direct from Ger many stato that fifty persons havo been killed outright, while eighty others were injured, and nine carriages were dushed to pieces. A report received in Paris, and, we nope, exaggerated, just doubles these figures, it is not stated in the German telegrams what was the exact character of the line at the spot where the engine left: it, whether there was a steep embankment down which'the coaches wtre precipitated, or whether the tram Golii.'ed with the buttress of a brirl»c ."-panning the.way. Some such explanation scurrs needed to accountfortbc terrible deviation anl) loss of life wrought by this a6p tiling affair, and it appears to be supplied by th'a Paris report, which says that part i.f the tfaiu. wag shot down an embabknient in: oasSvamp. The huge freight of pas eogeis bormi by: the train, of course, rraJc the )i tot killed and injured greater than it would otherwise have proved ; but in thisca'oit does not appear to have been the fact' o( the train b:ing an " excursion " .which oc casioned the catastrophe. TeWgraph posts are liable to be b'own down in front of all trains, if the power of the wind is suffi ciently great. \\ hatevcr may have been the cause, there is sure to be a searching investigation in Germany into the v.ry worst railway accident that ever occurred in tho Fatherland. ' With the exception of the entirely unique and unutterably awful Tay Bridge accidont, no railway catastrophe in Great Britain itself has been attended with so heavy a sacri fice of human life as this one at Hugstetten. Tho accident on the Great Western line at Oxford, which took place on Christmas Kve some years ago, resulted in tho deaths of over thirty passengers; but this id the largest number of human beings that has ever perished through prevcntible or unpreventible causes on any railway south ot tbo Tweed. Kailway accidents abroad are happily rare, owing to the comparative small number of trains run and the slower rate of speed ; but, when they do occur, as at flugstetten, and as in the disaster Dear Paris just over a year ago, tho havoc wrought may be surprisingly ter rible;

Great Rivers.

The Amazon is the greatest volume o water flowing through any country, but it is but 3,300 miles long. The Missisaipi, from Itadca to its junction with the Missouri, is 2,616 miles long ; from that point to th e Gulf is 1,216 miles, a total of 3,902 miles. The Missouri runs 2,00S miles to join the Mississipi, and, having had given to it the length to the sea, is 4,194 miles long. _ To the saccd river, the Wile, must be given the credit of running through the greatest stretch of country The "American En cyclopaedia " of 1575, from which the pre viously quoted figures arc taken, says :— " It is navagable as for as the district of Fazoglc, aboiu 1,500 miles from the Mediterranean. Its approximate length throughout all its windings from the limit <if steam navigation above Gondol'.ora is 3.0J0 Biiles. Tie additional length t> .Lake Albert N'yanZi can scarcely be less than 200 mile 3, nni), couuequenty the river Iraveraes.a distaur.o of about 4,700 iuilc3,or 50(5 more than the. Missouri and Lower Miasisßipi,"

THE LEAVENWORTH MURDER

BY INN A KA2MEBTNE GREEN,

Authoress of "A Strange Disappearance" and "Tiie Sword of Damocles."

XXXVII,

CULMINATION,

Saint-Bcduc ng gold.

—Romeo and Juliet. ■ . . When our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.

—Macbeth,

I never saw such a look of mortal triumph on the face of a man as that which crossed

the countenance of the detective,

'' Well,'' said he, " this is unexpected but not wholly unwelcome. lam truly glad to learn Miss Leavenworth is. innocent, but I must hear some few more particulars before I shall be satisfied, Get up, Mr Harwell, and explain yourself. If you are the mur derer of Mr Leavenworth, how conrcs it that thing* look so black against everybody but vounielf 2"

But in the hot, feveris-h eyts that Eought him from tbc writhiDg form at his feet, there was mad anxiety and pain, but little explanation. Seeing him make unavailing efforts to speak, I drew near, "Lean on me," said I, lifting him to his feet

His facc,relieved forever from its mask of expression, turned towards me with the

look of a despairing spirit. " Save I'1 gasped ho. " Save her—Mary—they are eendiog a report—stop it 1" •'Yes," broke iv another veice. "If there is a man here who believes in God ond prizes woman's honour, let him stop the issue of this report." And Henry Claver ing, dignified as ever, but in a state of ex treme agitation, stepped into our midst through an open door at our light. But at the sight of bis face, the man in our aims quivered, shrieked, and gave one bound tbat would have overturned Mr Clavering, herculean of frame as he uas, had not Mr Gryca interposed.

"Waitl" cried he; and holding back the secretary with one hand—where was his rheumatism now !—he put the other in his pocket and drew thence a document which he held up before Mr Clavering. '' It has cot gone yet," eaid he; "be easy. And you, he went on, turning towards Trueman Harwell, " be quiet or—"

His sentence was cut. short by the man springing from his ,graip. "Let me go," shrieked he. " Let nic have my revenge on him who in face of all I hare done for Mary Leavcnwortb, dares to call her his ■nifel Let me—" But at this point he paused; his frame, which had been one tremble, stiffening into stone, and his clutching bands outstretched for his rival's throat, falling heavily back, "Harkl" said be, glaring over Mr Clavering's shoulder: "it is she! I bear her 1 I feel

her! she is on the stairs 1 she is at the dor ! she—" a low shuddering sigh of long ing and despair finished the sentence: the door opened, and Mary Leavenworth stood before us.

It was a moment to make young hairs turn grey. To see her face, so pale, ao haggard, so wild in its fixed horror, turned towards Henry Clavering to the utter ignoring of tho real actor in this most horrible scene! Trueman Harwell could not stand it.

". Ah, ah 1" cried he, " look at her ! cold, cold ; not one glance for me,[though I have iuatdrawn JlJui.JxaJjo!: >&**~ fcretvi'TTrfoivto^ from the clasp of a man who in his jealous rage would now have withheld him, he fell oa his knees betorc Mary, clntching her dresa. with frenzied hands. "You ehall look at me," he cried ; "you shall listen to me," he cried ; "you shall listen to me j I will cot loec body and soul for nothing. Mary, they eaid you were in per.l; I could not endure thit thought, so 1 uttered the truth—yes, though I knew what the conse quence would be—and all I want now.is for you to say you believe me when I declare, tbat I only meant to secure to you the-for tune you so muih desired ; tint I never dreamed it would come to this ; that it was because 1 loved you and hoped to win your love in return that I—"

But she did not; seem to see him, did cot seem to hejr him. Her eyes wore fixed upon Henry Ulavcrlog with an awful inquiry in their depths, and none but he could move her.

" You do not hear me 1" shrieked the poor wretch. "Ice that you arc, you would not turn your head it 1 should call to you from tbo depths of hell l" But even that, cry fell unheeded. Pushing her bands down upon his shoulders as though she would sweep some impediment from her path, she endeavoured to advance. " Why is that man here ?" cried she, indi cating her hustand with one qvivering hand. " What has he done that he should be brought here to- confront me at this awful time ?"

"I told her to c'oaie here to meet her ancle's murderer," whispered Mr Gryce into my car. . : ; •, ■ \ But before I could reply to her, before Mr Claveriog himself could murmur a word, the guilty wretc"h before her had startedto hisfett. . ; , • r '■

"Don't you know?" cried ho, "thenl Will tell you/ It is because those gentle men, chivalrous and honourable as they consider themselves,; think that you, the beauty and the Sybarite, committed with your own white hand the deed of blood which has; brought you freedom and for tune. ; Yes, yes, this' man—" turning and pointing: at me—"friend as he has made uimselt out to be, kindly and honourable as ipu have doubtless believed him, but who in every look he has bestowed UDon you, every word he has uttered in your hearing during all these four horrible weeks, has hi en, weaving a cord for your neck—thinks \ ou the assassin of your uncle (as does,per-r haps, this other ,that calls you wife) unknowing that a man stood at your side ready to sweep half the world from your path if that same white.hand rose in bid ding. That 1—"... J?;; "You?"" Ah I now she could eec him, vow she could hear him 1

" Yes," clutching her robe again as the hastily recoiled, "didn't you know it? Wliod, in. that dreadful hour of your rejeo: tion by your uncle, you cried aloud for tomeone to help you, didn't you know—" "Don't!" slic shrieked, bursting from him with a look o£ unspeakable honor. " Don't suy that! 0," she gasped, "is the mad cry of a stricken women for aid and pympathy tho call for a murderer?'1 And turning like a doe struck to the heart by tho deadly arrow, she moaned, "Who that ever looks at me now wilL forget that a man—such a man! a man sj low I have over disdained to let my shadow fall beside his, lest we should seem to walk ova level! — thought, .dared to think, that because I was in mortal perplexity I would accept the murder of my beat friend as a relief from it!" Her horror was unbounded.

"U what a chaslisemoDt for folly!" she muimurcd. " What a puniahment for the love'of money, which has always been my curse I"

Henry Clavccing could no longer restrain himself. Leaping to her tide, he bent above her. "Was it nothing but folly, Mury? Are you guiltless of any deeper wrong? Is there no link of complicity between you -two ? Have you nothing on your soul but an inordinate desire to pre serve your place in your uncle's will, even at the risk of breaking my heart and wronging your noblo cousin? Ate you ionoccnt ia this matter? ' Tell me !" Lav-

iug his liaud en her head, ho pressed it slowly back and gazed into her eyes; then without a word took her to his breast, and looked calmly around him.

"She i?," said lie,

Ifc was the uplifting of a stifling poll. No one in the room, unless it was the wretched criminal shivering before. us, but felt a eudJcri influx of hope. Even Mary's owe countenance caught a glow. "0," she whispered, withdrawing from his arms the Letter to look at his faea, "and is this the man I have trifled with, iujured, and tortured till tha very name of Mary Leavenworthnvgut well make him shud der 1 Is'this he whom I married in a fit 01

caprice, only to forsake and deny ? Henry, do you declare me innocent in face of all you have seen and heard; in face of that moaning, chattering wretch before us and my own quaking flesh and manifest terror; with the remembrance on your heart and iv your mind of the letter I wrote you the morning after the murder, in which I prayed you to keep away fioin me as I was in such deadly danger, the least hint given to the world that 1 had a secret to conceal would destroy me ? Do you, can you, will you, declare me innocent before God and the world?' " I do," said he. A light such as had never visited her face before passed slowly over it. " Then God forgive me the wrong I have done this noble heart, for I can never forgive myself! \Y ait! said she, as he opened his lipc. Beforo I accept any further tokens of your generous confidence, let me show you what I am. You shall know the worst of the woman you have taken to your heart. Sir Kaymond—" and she turned towards me for the first time, "in those duya when with such an earnest desire for my welfare (as I beliovo notwithstanding this man's insinuations), you sought to induce me to speak out and tell all I knew concorninp this dreadful deed, I did not do it because of one thing : I was afraid. I knew the case looked dark against me Lleanore had told me so ; Eleanore her self—and it was the keenest pang I had to endure—believed me guilty, ahe had her reasons. She knew first, from the directed enveloposhe had found lying underneath my uncle's dead body on the library table, lhat he had been CDgaged at the moment of death in summoning his lawyer to make that change in his will which would trans fer my claims to her; secondly, that I had been down to his room the night before, though 1 denied it, for she had heard my door open and ray drees rustle as I passed out. But that ,waa not all, the key that every one felt to be a positive proof of guilt ; wherever found, tad been picked up by her from the floor of- my room ; the lettor written by Mr Olavering to my uncle was found in my fire; and the handker chief which she bad seen me take from the basket of clean clothes, was produced at tlio inquest stained with pistol-grease. A web seemed tiingled about my feet. I could not stir without encountering some new toil. I knew I was innocent, but if I failed to satisfy of it one who loved me, how could I hepe to convinoe the general public if once called upon to do so. Woreo still, if pure-faced Eleanore, with every apparent mo ive for desiripg loug life to our uncle, was held in such suspicion because of a few circumstantial evidences against her, what would I not have to fear if the truth concerning these things was told 1 The tone and manner of the jury, man at the inquest that asked who would be .benefited by my uncle* will, showed but too plainly. When, therefore, Kleanore, tiue to her heart's generous in. stincts, closed her lips and refused to epcak when speech would hare been my ruin, I let her do it, justifying myself with the thought that she had deemed me capable of tbe ciime and must bear tho conse quences. Nor when I saw how dreadful tbese |were likely to prove, did I relent. Fear of the ignominy, suspense, and danger that [would follow confession, sealed my lip?. Oncy once did I hesitate. That was when in the last conversation we had, I saw that, notwithstanding appearance?, you believed in Eleanore'i iuuocenee, and the thought crossed me you might bs in duced to believe ia mjuc, if I threw myself upon your mercy. But just then Mr Clavering came, and as in a flash I seemed to realise what my future life would be, stained by suspicion, and instead of yielding to my impulse, went bo far in the other direction as to threaten Mr Claverinc with a denial «jf~«~ •■** »n"uanger was over.

11 Yes, ho will tell you tbat was my wel come to him when, with heart and brain racked by long suspense, he came to my door for one word of assurance that the oeril I was in was not of my own making. That was the greeting I gave him after a year of silence, every momjnt of which wa3 toiture to him. But he forgives me; I see it in his eyes, I hear it in his k acccnts; and you—O, if in the long y«»rs to come you can forget what I huve made islranore suffer by my stlfish fears 5 if with the shadow of her'wrong before you, you can by the grace of somo sweet hepe think a little Ices hardly ot me, do. lam atraid 1 shall never be worthy of it, but yet

if you can, do. As tor this man—torture could not bo worse to me than this standing wiih him in the same room—let him come forward and declare if I by look or word have given him reason to believe I under stood his pa-sion much lees returned

" Why ask I" gasped he. " Don't you see it was your iudiiierenco that drove me mad ? To stand before you, to agonize alter you, to follow you with my thoughts in every move you made, to kaow my equl was welded to yours with bands of steel no fire could melt, no force destroy, no strain dissever; to sleop under, the same roof, sit at the same table, and yet moot.not so much as one look to show mo you nnder stood ! It was tlist which nude my life a hell, I was determined you should under stand. If I had to leap into a pit of flame you should know wkat I waß, and whiat my passion for jou was. And you do. You comprehend it all now, Shrink as you .will from my presence, cower as you may to tho weak man you call husband, you can never forget the lore of Trueman Har well—never forget that love, love, love, burniog love for your beauty, was the force which led me down into your uncle's room that night and lent me will to pull the trigger which poured all tho wealth you hold this day into your lap. " Yes," ho went en, towoiing in his preternatural dee pair till even the noble form of - Henry Claverini? looked dwarfed betide him, " every dollar that chinka from your purne shall talk of me. , Every gew-gaw <which Hashes on that haughty head, too haughty to bend to me, shall shriek my name into your cars,: fashion, pomp, luxury,—you will have them all; but till gold loses its glitter, satin its gloss, and ease its attraction, you will never forgot the band that gave them to you !" , , > With a look whose evil triumph I cannot describe, he put his band into the arm of the waiting detective, and in another ' moment would have been led from the room; when Mary, crushing down the swell of emotions that was seething in her breast, lifted her head and said, " No.Truemun Haiwr.ll,l cannotgivcycu even that thought for your comfort: Wealth that is laden with such a burdeu were'turturc. 1 cannot accopt the torture, so muse release tho wealth, even if it were mine to dispose of, which it is not. From this day_ Mary Clavering owns uothing but that which comes to her from the husband she has so long and so basely wronged." And raising her hands to her ems, the tore out the diamonds which hung there, and iluug them at the feet of the unfortunate man. ~ It was the final wrench of the rack. With a yell such as I never thought to listen io, from the lips of a man, he flung up his arme,' while all the lurid light of madness' glared on his face, "And I have given my' soul to hell for a shadow I" moaned he, "for a shadow !"

" Well, that is the best day's work I *• ever did ! Your congratulations, Mr Kay- ' moud, upon tho 6iiccc33 of the moat daring " game ever played in a detective's office." ' I looked at the triumuhant ountenauce1' of Mr Gryce in amazement, " What do you mean?" I cried: "did you wlan all ' this!"

"Did I plan it?" ha repealed. "Could I stand here,seeing how things have turaed out, if I had not? Mr ltaymond, let us be comfoi'tiblo. You are a gentleman,but we , can shake hands over this. I have never known such a satisfactory conclusion to a .bad piece of basinets in all my professional g career," . L

Wo did shake liands long and fervently, ' and then I afked him to explain himself. .■

" Well," f aid he; "there has nlwaj'B been one thins; that pligaed me in tit; wry .■. mouioat of my strongest suspicion [.;:ai:;£jf ■ this wornau, and that v,ras>, the |jisto!-ekan- * ing business. I cou'd not reconcile it with r what I knew ol womankind,. J[ could noS, i} make it seem the act of a woman. Did you.' ever know n woman who cleaned';1; p^tolooil; T who even knew the object <$rijj,M 6) Jtpiij < ' ' ■ ';



At Twelve o'Clock Noon. ■mil imi iii iiiff ft Q r w'l"1"'" 1"" '■■ » vv ATEK, vIE vv BELLA v IST A * 7 FoisrsoisrßTr- The ABOVE BEAUTIFUL JPBOPEMTY, which ivill be submitted to PUBLIC AUCTION by On TIIUBSDAY, OCTOBER 26, contains SEVEN ACRES OF LAND, and is divided into FOR,T"Y"-0?"WO (-4=2) JLL LOT T& E ±sC TS, Each Allotment having an unintevrtipted view of the Waitemata Harbour. THE AUCTIONEERS, in directing attention to this Valuable Property, would remind the public that for BE A TJTY OF SITUATION, HEALTHINESS OF LOCALITY and GRANDEUR OF VIEW, it cannot be surpassed by any Suburban Land yet offered for sale, and would impress upon the minds of those in search of a homo combining ALL these advantages the desirability of securing a site in this favoured position. ' ° TO SPi!(7PIITOES it ivill Biifficc to point out that in consequence of the marvellous extension of the city during tho past two years, and the rapidly increasing value of land choice building sites in this popular suburb are every year becoming more difficult to acquire, and will of necessity command high values. '' ' ' ' TO BUSINESS MEN, who best know how to appreciate tho benefits of a Marino Residence, away from the tumult of city life, yet easy of access, it will only be necessary to state that 'busses now run within a few minutes' walk of this Property, and that theso will soon be replaced by tramways. THE QUALITY OF THE LAND may be determined by inspecting the adjacent gardens of Mr. Mason and Mr. Linabury, where oranges, lemons, crapes, and other fruits can be seoa growing m abundance. MM. COOMBES, the Proprietor, has spared neither money nor labour in draining] manuring, planting with ornamental trees, now of seven years' growth, and laying tho hnd down n grass and clovor, ' J ° THE ROADS ARE WIDE, FORMED, ami 3IETALZEJD, and will shortly be kcrbed and channelled. For the convenience of intending purchasers, tho Auctioneers will issue Free Passes by the 'BIISSCS, and Special 'Blisses ivill Run Oil SATURDAY, the 21<it insfa/nt when Mr. Jmpey's Band will Play on the Ground from 3 to 5 o'clock p.m. ' ' Tho Allotments will bo offered for competition WITHOUT RESERVE, thus affording competitors the rare opportunity of PURCHASING VILLA SITES AT THEIR OWN PRICES* The forms are such as to meet the requirements of all—namely, One-Third Cash, balance to remain at 7 per Cent, for a term of Five Years. 3STOETHCOTE: JLLLOTIVCEIISrT 85 OP LOT 64« ALSO THE FOLLOWING: Parish of MatakoJie. Ruatangata, Whangarei. 120 Acres, northern portion of Allotment 32 dO Acres, northern portion of Allotment 122 36 Acres, north-western portion of Allotment 33 130 Acres, north-western portion of Allotment 14 Parish Of Wairail, 80 Acres, middle portion of Allotment 1G 80 Acres, north-eastern portion of Allotment 1G MO Acres, north-eastern portion of Allotment 120 and Allotment 121 40 Acres, north-eastern middle portion of Allotment 10. Omaha. Parish of Oamaru.. 120 Acres, Allotment 77 40 Acres, north-west portion of Allotment M 2 TERMS: One-Third Cash, and tlie bai«»v« «>* Mortgage for Five Years at Seven per Cent, lntercet.—m ans and other particulars can he : obtained at the Auctioneer's Office, Queen-street.