The jeweller was out, but expected.back again sliortlv; so {he distiiigu.sb d was ushered into the partear, as ttw»p.» ment was termed in which Matthew bowed; l£j£?* nodded with Patronising carelesness. is though a «»*OTSJ!iS£K fc*r & « Slock Si it suddenly Way?hlftmsfomcr Pc the presentloconio- CJSffISSe civilised world-might 1h fusifS to her in her projected inquiry, « "check upon liis empfoj cr. The latter would no doubt, attempt to cheapen the * ™« while Matthew, having no personal Advantage to gain by misrepresentation, S jsst possibly tell the truth about it. «Oh by-the-byo Mr-I forgot your

"""Selston, madam," observed Matthew, sure ; it is you who have the char«c of my diamonds, is it not ? Now 1 wish" to ask you, as one doubtless ac quainted with such matters, what you think they are worth?" "I always understood, madam, that tne guarantee given by Mr Signet " " Yes, yes, I know that »f course, she interrupted impatiently; "that's a mere nominal sum, fixed so high, perhaps, in order that more may be charged for taking care of them.-You don't think so ? lor Matthew bad shrugged his shoulders and smiled, it must be confessed, a little scorn fully "Yon think they are worth the money then; perhaps more, even; well, now, bow much more t" . "Indeed, madam, I did not mean to 1111 ---t,ly that. The value of a thing is often very wrongly defined as what it will fetch ; but in the case of precious stones, it is a tolerably correct statement, lo one who is an admirer of such things, your dia monds would no doubt be an object of immense attraction " J " What rubbish ! who doc 9 not admire them," broke in their proprietress viciously. "Nay, I only meant that some persons have a greater passion for precious stones than others—have less taste than others, if you will have it so; but however universal may bo the admiration of them, very few persons have the monoy to buy them, and especially such specimens as those of which you spe*k. Their worth iv a practical sense must therefore depend upon the ex istence of an exceptional purchaser.' Lady Pargiter drummed with her fingers upon the cuckoo clock with a vehemence that would have alarmed that imprisoned bird had he not been made of sapphires. "It seems very difficult," sho said, "to get a plain answer, to a plain question. Well, supposing the existence of such a purchaser, would twenty-five thousand pounds, at the present price of diamonds, be too much to ask him."

" Not perhaps too much to ask him, madam," returned Matthew drily. " In the case, however, of such a costly article, we generally find some kind of compromise to be necessary. However, here is Sir Signet, who will be able to give you much better information than I can on such a, topic."

" Sorry I have kept you waiting, Lady Pargiter," said the jeweller, entering with an apologetic smile. "Have you shown her ladyship the cuckoo, Helston?" (for her hand was still upon the clock, aud he thought she might have taken a fancy to it). "That bird is a marvel."

" I am not come about aoy such trifle," returned Lady Pargiter haughtily. "My call is upon a matter of great importance —in connection with my diamonds." "l'hcy are all right, I conclude, Mr Hel ston?" inquired the jeweller sharply, but by no means so sharply as of yore; ever since his visit to Cavendish Grove, his be haviour to his assistant had been much more gracious; for a reason which Mat thew suspected, and which, I am sorry to say, made him dislike that gentleman even more cordially than before

" I have ho doubt they are all right, as you call it," observed Lady Pargiter, se verely; "my object in coming here,~Mr Signet, is to know at what price you .value them."

"What prioe? Dear me !do I under stand that yon wish to part with them ?" " I do not say that at all, sir; I only want to know for a particular reason of my own, how much I could get for them if I did wish it"

" Well, my lady, that is a serious ques tion to answer, so to speak, right ofl the reel. If there was any very wealthy per sonage at present looking out for such a parttre, there is no knowing what he might give; but.we might wait years and years for such a customer."

" You know of no such person then, at present?" " No, my lady." " Well, if you were to buy them your self, to what price would you be prepared to go ? I apply to you because you are ac quainted with their history and all about them; you were consulted about them, if I remember right, by my late father." " Yes, my lady, yes. Some years before his death, we endeavoured to come to some sort of arrangement with him; but he asked too much—a great deal too much. The diamonds are very fine ones, no doubt. I examined them oa that occasion very minutely; but trade is no better now than at that time; rather worae. We could make no advance, I fear, upon our then offer."

"And what was that?"

" It was fifteen thousand pounds.' "Fifteen thousand fiddle-sticks!" en claimed Lady Pargiter. " Why, this per son here—your assistant—has just con fessed to me that they are worth twenty fivenhousand pounds." "Excuse me, madame," observed Matthew, "you asked me whether that sum would he too much to ask for them of an intending purchaser, who was, more over, exceptionally wealthy. If you remember, I declined to say what they were worth, and for the best of reasons, because I did not know."

" Well, your story, at all events, and Mr Signet's are very different," returned her ladyship, angrily. "Fifteen thousand pounds, indeed! Why, then, do you suppose my poor father made me pay probate duty upon nearly twice as much lor them?" It was quite true that the late Mr Ingot had specified the diamonds in his wiß as heing worth twenty-five thousand pounds, a circumstance which had always aston ished Mr Signet; for although that might have been their value in tho testator's eyes, he was not the man to have swelled the revenue of his country at the expense of his own flesh and blood, unless compelled to do so. If, on the other hand, he felt the jewels could never be disposed of at any thing like their just value—and since, moreover, he knew there could be no necessity for Ids daughter's parting with them—it was rather a good plan than otherwise to have estimated them so highly, though she had to pay for it; since that very fact to a great extent established their value, and added another attraction to her in the matrimonial market

It was rather difficult, however, for Mr Signet to explain these views to Lady Pargiter herself, so he confined himself to saying that he supposed it was the late Mr Ingovs stem sense of duty which had

had caused him to value the diamonds for probate duty at what he considenjd their just worth. "And yet you who know that," an swered Lady Pargiter, '' and who, for your own purposes—thai is, to obtain more money for their custody, — have always valued them at the same price, when I come to say, ' What will you give for them?' reply, 'Fifteen thousand pounds.' You expect to make ten thousand by the transaction. Talk of usury! I consider your condnct most discreditable." And with that her lady ship drew her train through her arm with a jerk (for she was not going to sweep such a man's floor for him), aud walked out of Mr Signet's establishment " Well, I never!" exclaimed the indig nant jeweller; " she, the daughter of old ingot, to dare to talk to me ol usury ! Of all tho vile, cantankerous, grasping women that I have met with in my whole experi ence, that Lady Pargiter is certainly the worst." , •' Well, after to-day, I suppose we shall sec no more of her, observed Matthew, with a sigh of relief, "More of her? Of course wc shall see more of her. For some reason or other, she wants to sells her diamonds; and as she won't like to go to any other house m the trade about them, she'll be here again to-morrow; she will find money a little tighter by that time. Usury, indeed I- I'll pay her out—so help mo Pluto. This was a professional way Mr Signet had of swearing; his impression in doing so was that he was appealing to the Cod of Riches, who might very well be sup posed to be tho guiirdiau divinity of a gentleman of his calling; his mistake, however, was ouly in tbe ietter, not in the spirit, for what he thus swore he always stuck to. Some cyuica say that, though the worm will turn if trodden on, he will not turn if you tread him again and pretty smartly; but socially this is an error. Not even the Lady L'argiters of the earth can afford to be offensive to their fellow creatures. Moreover, that great linn of jewellers which hud its embodi ment iv the person of Mr Signet was not a worm, except generically—just as a boa constrictor may be called a worm.

(To be continual.)

"Little Forty-Two."

Well, now, .but weren't we surprised! You see, we had encountered such a run of hard luck up at Point Despair that the morning we packed up bag and baggage to the last man and set off down the trail in search of a show for something better. I well remember it was a hot July day, and there was exactly torty-one of us.

Some miles down the trail we came to what was then called Unck Joe's road, and right at the intersection was where the sur prise hit us. aii immigrant family had strayed from the main party for some rea son which we never ascertained, and right at the cros'iug they had been attacked by Indians. The wagon broke down there, und there the pioneer made his defence and fired his last shot. That he was game we needed no other proof than that visible to our eyes. Three great blood-spots showed where three savages had fallen before they charged,, and when they rushed in on liitti he had lulled or disabled three more with his revolver.

The family had consisted of five persons, and there thoy all lay—hacked, cut, shot, and a horrible spectacle under that bright sun and birds singing around us. It was a horrible heap which we surrounded, and for a minute no one spoke. Then the astonish ment aud horror.of the men brought forth iv deep and angry exclamations, and amidst the rumpus Uncle Ben Turner suddenly called out :

" Stand back I—stand back 1 Hero's a live young 'un !" Thero was, for a fact Half hidden under the torn and blood-stained garments of its dead mother was a boy about two years old. He had a terrible bump on his head, and as we talked it over wc concluded that his mother fell from the wagon with him in her arms when the whoel broke down, and that the bump rendered him insensible. In tbe excitement he had been overlooked or thought dead, aud had cried himself to sleep, to be awakened by the voices of our men. The attack had been made early in the morning,, and it was no<ir noon when wc came upon the scene. Well, the best we could do with the poor victims was to bury them, but didn't that boy leave us in a nice fix ! There we weie, forty-one gruff, growlish, rough-handed miners, and there he was, a milk-faced baby, calling for ma and pa, and shivering with terror at the sight of us. What could we do with him ? We had no kisses, no pet words, no dainties nor little clothes. We looked from the baby to each other and scratched our heads, and no man knew what another man thought until old Uucle Ben called out r

"Boys, it's a token of good luck ! If this 'ere what-d'ye'-call-it don/t bring us a rich find then we've all forgot our homes an d wives and children!"

"*'That'sall wewere waiting for. Up wentour hats, cheers made the rocks echo, and the little toddler was one of us—one-of^ tho 42. Graves were dug and the victims laid away, and we made a hunt to identify them. If the immigrant had had any papers with Mm they had heen burned or taken off, and we found nothing on the boy's clothing which gave us a clue. When we were ready to go he stood in the circle, screaming out as we coaxed him in turn, but when old Ben finally advanced the young cub held up his arms and nestled against his shoulder as if he had found his own true father. I believe the rest of us were a bit jealous, but we were also helpless. Ben had a kind, fatherly face, a quiet voice, and the boy had only to look into his eyes to trust him. As to the luck, the old man was right. Four miles farther down the trail, the boy pointed to some flowers growing off to the right, and right there we halted and founded what was known for known for years as Lost Boy Diggings. It was the richest spot for 50 miles around, and all on account of "Little Forty-two," as we called the youngster. As to the boy himself, he took to old Ben in such a way that they could not be sepa rated. He could be enticed to sit with one of us now and then, but it was plain to see that his love was elsewhere. If Ben wanted a kiss he got a dozen, and all the gold in California wouldn't have bribed the boy off' his knee. At night his arm was on the child's pillow, and the slightest move of the youngster brought the old man's eyes open. You might have thought "Little Forty-Two" would have died on our hands, living as we did, but he never had a moment's sickness. Old Ben had a way of preparing nourishing dishes out of our coarse provisions, and from his clothing found with the wagon he was kept comfortably clad. Old Ben was no dress maker, and the boy would have looked queerly dressed in the States, but so long as he was comfortable we didn't care for looks. "Little Forty-Two" had been with us thirteen months, and was, to our figuring, a little over three years old, when some of the men who had made their stakes an nounced their intention of going home. Then the question arose, "Whose boy is

our boy?" It was a stumper. Each man felt that he owned a share in the little chap, and each man would have been glad to take him home. We argued and discussed without avail, and old Uncle Ben sat there saying never a word, but his face as white as chalk. "Little Forty-Two" belonged to tho old man iv every sense, but I believe there would have been some trouble if Fate hadn't come stalking up tbe rocky trail and haired at our diggings. This was the way of it. Some were packing up, some using the pick and bar, and down near the creek powder was being used to blast the ledge. It was about ten o'clock in the morning, and a blast bad been prepared and the fuse lighted, when from our retreat, full ten rods away, we saw Little Forty-Two turn the thicket and run straight for the blast, tie was laughing and shouting, having been playing "tag with Uncle Ben. We sprang up and shouted and screamed, and the boy halted within ten feet of the blast and waved his hat at us. Next instant ho was bidden in the dust and smoke, and when we reached him some of the men sat down and covered their faces. He was dead.

Well, that wasn't the end of it. That afternoon, after old Uncle Hen had made the poor little body ready for burial, and moaned over it, and while we were digging a grave, the old man went down to the blast, placed the muzzle of a revolver to his heart, and was dead before the report reached us, He had lost his boy and found him again.— Detroit Free Press,

A Dreadful Night.

Rehi'ECXIHQ the telegram from Adelaide which appeared in Tuesday's Herald, to the effect that the remains of Baxter, who was one of the party and was murdered by tbe native boys of the party near Eyre's Sand Patch, near the West Australian telegraph line, have been brought in to a linesman with articles of European manufacture, in a wonderful state of prcseraption, including a gun, with which it is believed the murder

was committed, we reproduce from "Wood's Australian Exploration" the following particulars of Eyre's extraordinary journey : " The last sheep was now killed, us a pre paration for another journey. The over seer then went to examine the country in advance. The news brought back was not encouraging ; the road lay along even more thick and scrubby land than before. It seemed threatening rain, so the start was delayed. Anxiously they watched each darkening cloud, praying earnestly for some few drops of water; but the clouds cleared off, and the night was clear and cold. Just ns they were turning in for the evening, the native boys came back; they could not ex ist on their own resources, and were sadly famished before tbey submitted to the humiliation of returning. Eyre took them back, believing them to be sincere, and lit tle suspected the treachery they meditated Again, on the 2Gth and27th, it seemed wild and stormy, and threatening rain, but none fell. On the latter date they started, agaiu leaving behind them everything except the provisions, their arms, ammunition, and clothes. They only advanced 15 miles the first day. The next stage was, how ever, 18, through a thick scrub, and along the top of the limestone cliffs, which had reappeared, but were now not more than 300 feet high Ou the 29th they made 111 miles ; but the day was t-o windy that they could scarcely stagger along the tops of the cliffs. In the evening the horses wer<; all hobbled, and turned out to feed, and the stoics were piled under an oilskin, while everyone was obliged to make breakwinds of boughs to protect them during the night. Mr Eyre ou this eventful evening took the first watch, from l> to 11. The night was bitterly cold, and the wind was blowing hard from the sooth-west. The horses fed well, but rambled a good deal. At half past 10 Mr Eyre went te fetch them back. He found them at short dista nee, and was picking his way in the dark among the bushes, when he was suddenly startled by a gunshot. It was from the camp, and of course he hurried there immediately. About 100 yanls from it he met Wylie, the King George's Sound native running aud crying out ' Oh tnnssa ! Oh massa ! come, look here !' He reached the camp, and there before him lay his overseer in the agonies of death, with a wound in his chest, from which the blood was flowing rapidly. A glance around explained the whole scene. The two younger natives were gone, whilst the scattered fragments of the baggage which had been piled under the oilskin told the reason why. The overseer was beyond human aid, for he expired immediately after Eyre's arrival. It was a horrible scene, aud the feelings of the survivor were shocked as well by the crushing weight of the disaster as its suddenness. Eyre de scribes it with a reality that none but a wit ness could do justice to. He says :—' The horrors of my situation glanced upon me. I was alone in the desert. The frightful, appalling truth glared upon me in such startling reality as almost to paralyse my mind. At the dead hour of night, with the fierce wind raging around me, m one of the most inhospitable wastes of Australia, I was left alone with one native boy. I could not rely upon his fidelity, for he was perhaps in league with the other two, who might be waiting to kill me. Three days had passed since we had found water, and it was very doubtful when we should find more. Six hundred miles of country had to be traversed before I could obtain the slightest help or assistance, whilst I knew not a urop of water or an ounce of flour had been left by the murderers. The guns were gone, and only a rifle and a pair of pistols were left. The former was useless, as a ball was jammed in the barrel, and the lat ter had no cartridges to fit them.' Chain ing possession of aU the remaining arms, useless as they were, he went with the native to look for the horses. After a long search, he found them; and when he brought them back to the camp, 'he sat down to watch. He passed a bitter night. Every moment, he tells us, seemed to him an age, and he tlnught the morning never would come. The night was frosty. He had nothing on but his shirt and trousers, and to mental anguish was now added intense bodily pain. He tells us suffering and dis tress' nearly overwhelmed him, and life seemed scarcely worth the effort to prolong it. /> ges could never efface the horrors of that single night; nor would all the world, he says, ever tempt him to go through similar ones again. Truly, the position was horrible in the-extreme. To have to pass the night by the corpse of bis only companion, who lay with glazed and stnr iug eyes in the position in which he fell; and this, in the midst of an awful desr''l * surpasses almost any of the terror-* of which, unfortunately, exploring expeditions are so full."

The King in His Boots.

TIIEY had a terrible time (says the " San Francisco Post") at a wedding up at Peta luma, CaL, the other day, and which only goes to show how the snia lest drawback will sometimes take the stiffening out of the swcllcst occasion.

It seems that the ceremony was a very grand utlair indeed. There were eight bridesmaids, aud the church was crowded from pit te dome, as the dramatic critics would say. But when they got to the pro per place in tbe ceremony, and the groom bcgiui feeling around for the ring, he dis covered that the ring wasn't on band. After the minister had scowled at the miserable wretch for a while the hitter detected that the magic circlet had slipped through a hole in his pocket and worked down to his boot, lie communicated the terrible fact in a whisper to the bride, who turned deadly ]wle, and was only prevented from fainting by the reflection that tbey would inevitably cut the strings of her satin corset in case she did. £8"°"^ " Wbydon'tyouproduce the ring ?" whis pered tho brides big brother, hoarsely, and feeling for his pistol, under tlie impression that the miserable man was about lo back out

"Ican't. It's in my boot," explained the groom under bis breath, bis very hair, meanwhile, turning red witli mortification.

" Try and make it out somehow—hurry tip !" mumbled the minister .behind bis book.

" I'll try," gasped the victim, who was rather stout, and lie put one foot on the, chancel rail, pulled up bis touscrs leg, and began making spasmodic j^bs for the ring with las fore linger.

The minister motioned to the organist I squeeze out a few notes to fill in the time while a rumour rapidly wont through th congregation to the effect that a despatch had just arrived proving that the groom bud four wives living in the cast al ready.

" I—l can't roach it," groaned tlie hal f married man in agony, "It won't. come."

" Sit down and take your Ixtot off, you fool!" hissed the bride's mo* tier while the bride herself moaned pitoously, and wrung her powdered hands. There was nothing left, so the sufferer sat down ou the floor and began to wrestle with his boot, which was naturally new and tight, while a fresh rumour got under way to the effect that the groom wtus tight and insisted on paring bis corns. As the boot came finally off, its crushed wearer endeavoured unsuccessfully te hide a trade dollar bole in tbe heel of his stocking, noticing which the parson said grimly. " You seem to be getting married just in time, my young friend."

And the ceremony proceeded with the party of the first part standing on one leg, trying to hide his wcll-vciuUated foot under tbe tail of bis coat.

A Mysterious Brig.

One day, when wo wero lying in tho fore castle, our heads leaning on tbej gun-car riages and surrounded bya cloud of tobacco smoke, Master Ivon took bis pipe from between his teeth, and, instead of refilling it, shook out the ashes on his thumb-nail, with a meditative air. We understood from this that the old sea-dog was about to speak. ' We will have* fine story to-night, will we not, Master Ivon '!' said las I watched his action. fcsSSSS He did not reply, but after carefully put ting his pipe away in the bottom of his otter-skin tobacco |>ouch, und having as sured himself that everyone was listening, he commenced in this way :

It was during the empire, at the time whea kings of the raft wen; retired like old use less masts, the islander had closed all our ports, and the English vessels were moored at the entrance of our anchorage rnuda, Hke lobsters spreading out their nippers and blocking up the way so Hint the trade of Corsaire had become absurd, aud cruises in that lino always terminated in the prisons of Plymouth. ' Everybody stayed at home, and the entire French marine was like an old vessel thrown on the rojeks nnd left to warm her keel in the sun.

But for all that, there were stiU left a few brave fellows who lmd tlie courage to rnn tho gauntlet and give the English an occasional kick, by way of paying off old scores and in order to keep their hand in.

Now, Captain Kerkof was one these men. A true Breton, hard, black, stubborn as a mule, thirsty as a cook, and amorous as a lover, and, withal, a good Christian, be cause he never failed to say mass whenever he started on a cruise, and lie had given a beautiful ship to the chapel of St Barbc de Roscof; but all this did not prevent Mm from being a tough old duck, capable of sitting down to a friendly smoke with a shark.

Kerkof was theu on a cruise in spite of the English, and was lounging about in the Northern sea on his pretty schooner, tlie Sans-quartier, looking listlessly to see which way the wind came, with his bauds in his pockete, and only waiting foi an opportunity o put them in tho pockets of somebody else. There was a fog that day as if all the angels of heaven had been smoking cigars at the same time, so that the horizon could scarcely be scon. Nevertheless, in tho midst of the fog the captain thought he per ceived what might be called tlie shadow of a brig sticking to the wind and running her broadside obliquely towards the Sans quartier. He looked agaiu, when the look-out man cried ' ship to starboard.' Kerkof was not mistaken.

' What can be that devil of a sea hog that thinks best to come to swim in tho Sans-quartier? He must be blinder than a bat not to have seen us. If I am not mis taken, it is an islander that wishes to mako a tour in France for the benefit of his health. Come, my heartio*, clear for action ; all sail out, and send your carte de visite to our neighbor. It is not enough to lx> a corsair, we mnst also he polite.' Kerkof had scarcely finished speaking, when a ball was fired through the fog aud was lost amoPn the freight of the myste rious brig.

There was a moment's waiting, but the invitation to rnise,hcrilag, which theFreuch Orsaire bad given in i-itch an unusual aud brutal manner, was understood, and iv a moment a little English flag glided along the halyard and floated on the peak of the brig. ' Good,' cried Kerkof, as he filled bis pipe ' now my b>ys, to your guns, and givo the Englishman a piece' of your mind."

Sans-quartier manoeuvred lightly, aud advanced towards her prey with wings ex tended like a hawk. The position i-f the brig was evidently desperate because the point towards which she was going wotdd he reached by the Sans-quartier as soon as by the brig, and the course she was taking lad her directly under the cannons of her terrible adversary. But notwithstanding the peril of the position, the brig did not, alter her course. The two vessels formed in their course the two sides of a triangle, whose apex was the point of meeting.-

They approached nearer and nearer, and it became easy, in spite of the fog, to see all the manoeuvres of the brig, but as she became more and more distinct, the surprise of Kerkof and bis crew augmen ted.

' What bark is that ?' said the captain at last. ' Have you ever seen such a rigging as that my hearties? It looks as ninch like a telegraph station as a brig. With such an outlit one could not traverse a glass of water in three days, aud yet it goes at the rate of adozen knots under our eyes. There is something about it that seems very funny to me.' The crew only replied to this by manifest ing, still more strongly their surprise and even fright. Nevertheless, all the prepara tions were made as ordered. The gunners were at their posts and the torches, were lighted. 'Attention,' cried Kerkof, 'whether it is a brig or a cathedral, we must test the strength of her sides. Attention, men, here we are in line, now lire !' A terrible explosion shook all tbe timbers of the Sans-quaitier, which re mained in a cloud of smoke. When this cloud disappeared, everybody eagerly sought for the brig in the place where thoy bad seen it a moment before, but it bud disappeared. 'Escaped, escaped 1' cried a dozen voices in stupefaction, 'Silence,' cried Kerkof, wjioseastonished gaze described a circle round the schooner ; suddenly it rested on a point to larboard. till eyes were turned in that direction. The brig was there, balanced easily on the waves, and with sails furled ; a sudden exclamation from the crew, accompanied oaths that would have knocked the holy virgin senseless, resounded throughout tits entire length at the ship. Then there was a silence, quite a long silence. ' ire agaiu !' cried Kerkof, in a hoarse

voice.

This time the order was noi so promptly obeyed, because the strangeness "f (he spectacle bad attracted the sailors away from theirposts ; it was obeyed, however, but the brig was already too far for Ibc shot to be very damaging. Without sails, without oars, as if by magic it skipped and bad already half-disappeared in the fog, where it was very soon lost entirel> to view. Kerkof had followed all these movements with a stupid astonishment. Perched on the barricading, lie was still gazing in the direction in which the strange vessel bad vanished, when the voice of his first male interrupted bis stupor.

' Captain ?' He turned suddenly, ''Well?'

' Captain, you have seen that brig 'Yes.'

"Confound it, yes.'

' Well, I wish tire devil may make agun cartridge of me, if that is not the same one that followed us, day by day, in the Eng lisli Channel /'

' What do you Buy?' ' Yes, captain, day by day. You will remember that it was Good Friday; the crew, it seems, were not in a state of grace, and the brig came to demand our prayers.' ' You arc a confounded lubber.' ' That may be, captain.' ' Away to your post and trouble me no more with your superstitious fears.' The old sailor walked away, slowly think ing his head. Kerkof leaned over the side of the Sans-quartier, looking upon the water and engaged in deep meditation. Night came on, and the Corsnire con tinued her course with it good breeze. All tbo crew were chattering about the strange brig tbey bad just met, when suddenly a great cry was heard on the deck. Iv rkof raised bis bead and recoiled with surprise, The strange brig, with sails furled, was sailing but a short distinct in tbe same direction as the Corsairo. Between its two masts was an cnoriiioussinglc black column vomiting out smoke and sparks; a single man was at the helm.

'The Norwegian brig,' murmured v smo thered voice near to Kerkof.

' Let it be the devil. Every man to his post, and fire, (Ire like demons!' It was the captain who spoke. Scarcely had he finished his command, pronounced in a hoarse panting voice, when the fright ful ship, as if it bad heard his order, chan ged her coui'-c and reappeared on the other side of the Corsaire, and black as ever, and, with her crow of one man and column of fire, it passed so near to the Sans-quartier that one could hear in her hold the roaring of the flames, and f-ce through the port holes a brilliant fire, in the midst of which were several shadows moving about. This time there was not a word pronounced on board of the French Corsaire ; all the crew had fallen on their knees, and ten minutes afterwards Kerkof himself was seen with bowed and uncovered head and his crucifix iv bis hand. a few days afterward tlie Sans-quartier was moored in a port of Bretagnc.

It was never known to a certainty just what the brig was tbat so frightened Kerkof and his crew"; but the English news papers of this period announced the arrival in London of a steamboat coming from the North, and the first to attempt that voyage.

Lady Macbeth.

Late one night Mr Siddons was sitting by the fire in the modest family parlour which in tbat most unassuming household served as dining-room or drawing-room, as the case might be. He was smoking calmly his last pipe, and beginning to think about going to bed, whither, as this was iiot one of his evenings at the theatre, he believed liis wife had gone already. The house was sunk in dreamy silence, so was the quiet street outside—silence only broken now and then by the roll of distant wheels. The actor had been drawing a vague picture of a little holiday trip which he and Sarah would take next summer, and bad fallen into a half-doze, in which he was driving down a country lane all scented with honeysuckle, all draped with eglantine. Suddenly he was roused, with a start, by hurried footsteps that were flying rather than running down tho passage. Who coidd it be ? be asked himself, all in a maec aud wonder, as lie jumped up and rubbed his sleep-laden eyes. He had hardly had time to let the question go darting through his brain, when the door of the room was flung open quickly, as if by a hasty trembling band, and a female figure rushed in. Mr Siddons gazed in speecldess astonish in en t, not unmixed with a touch uf fear. There before him stood his wife, her line hair disheveled, her dress all in disorder, her face all quivering with strong emotion. Inlbcwildered alarm he asked her what was,the matter, but her only answer was to throw herself into his arms aud burst into a torrent of tears. He soothed her tenderly, not knowing what to think, and gradually she grew calmer. Then her words made the mystery plain enough. Instead of going to' bed, as he had bade her to do, she had been sitting up, studying her part as Lady Macbeth; and tbe character had so completely absorbed her in itself, she bad so entirely realised the horror of each situation in the play, had seen it all so distinctly before her eyes,, as if she had been there in the body, that a wild unreasoning terror had seized her, and she had rushed away to seek human, companionship.— The Argosy,

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, MARCH 4, 1882.

3



The Jeannette, Arctic exploring steamer, was fitted out KOlcly at the o'fnse ot Mr James Gordon Bennet, of the "New York Herald." She is a three masted steam yacht of about 500 tons burden. Her equipment for the voyage cost £68,000. Visitors to Auckland should have their prescriptions dispensed at the English Pharmacy, 184, Que*n-street.— Austen W. Gardner, M.P.S., -Eng., Pharmaceutical Chemist—[ADVT.l