THE HOUSE OF White Shadows.

»y B. L. PARJEON,

AUTIIOU OF

" Blades • o'• Grass," "Joshua Marvel,' " Bread and Cheese and Kisses," " Gi'if," " London's Heart," iD&| ifcc, tt'O.

UIIAITEII XLIV.

PAULINE,

111 HAVE no choice but to obey you," said Father Cupel, " for time presses, and a life is hanging iv tho balauoe. I should havo ■been hero before had it not been that my duty called me moat awfully and suddenly to a mm who has been smitten to death by the hand of God. The man you defended— Giuitrau, charged with tho murder of an iunoccut girl—is dead, f'f him I may not speak at present. Death-bed coufessions aro sacred, and I cannot »po ik one further •word concorniui! tho sinner whoso soul is now before its Creator, 1 came to you from a dying womau, who is known by the uame of Paulino."

Both Vnnbrufth and the Advocate started at the mention of tho name. "Fate is merciiul," said the Advocate; "its blows aro (•harp and swift." " Before I left her," continued the priest, " 1 promised to bring you to her to-morrow, but Providence, which directed me to Gau trau in liis dying agonies, impeU mo to break that promise. -Mie may die before to-morrow, and she has thut to Bay which vitally concerns you, and which you must hear, if she has strength enough to speak, I ask you to come with me to her without a moment's delay, even through tilts storm which has been "sent by an augry God as a visitation upou human crime." " I am ready to accompany you," said the Advocate.

11 And I," said Vanbrugh. " !No," said the pticst, " only ho nnd I. Who you aro I do not seek to know, but you cannot accompany us." " ltcinnin hero," said tho Advocate to Vanbrugh;" when I return I will hide nothing from you, Now, Father Cupel," It whs not possible for ibom to engage, in con.ver-ation. The roaring of tho wind prevented a word from being heard. For mutual safety they clasped hauda and pro coeedud on their way. They cnomutercd many dangers but escaped thorn, Tomonts of water poured down from tho range-. Great branches snapped from the trees and fell across their path—the valley was knee deop in water—and occasionally they fan cied thoy heard cries of human distress in the distance. If tnc priest had not been perfectly familiar with tho locality, thoy would not have arrived at their destina tion, but he guided his companion through tho storm, and tnoy stood at length before tho cottage iv which Paulino lay. Father Cupel lifted the latcb, and pulled the Advocate after him into thu room. There were but two apartments iv the cottage. Paulino lay iv tho room at the back. In a corner of the room in which they fouud themselves, a man lay asleep; his wife was sitting in a chair, watching and waiting. She rose wearily as the priest and the advocate entered. " I am glad you liavo come, father," she said, " she has beort very restless, and once she Rave a shriek like a death shriek, which curdled my blood. She frightcued my child." She pointed to a baby girl, scarcely eighteen months old, who was lying by her fathor, with her eyes wide open. The child, startled by tho entranco of strangers, ran to her mother, who said petulantly. "There, there, the gentleman won't hurt you. ••Is Pauline awako now," asked Father Canel. . The woman wont to the inner room and returned. "She is sleeping," she Baid, " and seems quietir." Father Capel beckoned to tho Advocate, who followed him to the bedside of the dying woman. Sbn lay so Etill that the priest lowered bis head to hers to ascertain whether she was breathing. "Life appears to bo ebbing away," he •whispered to the Advocate. " Sho may dio in her sleep," Quiet as she was, there was no peace in her face; an expression of exquisite suffer iDg rested on it. The sign of suffering, denoting how sorely her heart had. been wrung, caused tho Advocate's lips to quiver. "It ia I who have brought her to this," h". thought. He was tortured, not only by remorse, but by a terror of himself Notwithstanding that so many years had passed since ho lust gazed upon her, she waa not to much changed that ho did not recognise in her the pretty peasant girl ■with whom he bad dallied in Zermoit. Since then he had won honour and renown, and the admiration and esteem of men ; the best that life could offer was his, or had been until the fatal day on which he re solved to undertake the defenco of Gautran. And now—how stood the account? He was the accomplice of the murderer of his own child the mother of his child was dying betorc him— hiswifo wasfalso to him-his friend hail betrayed him. Tho monument of greatness he had raised had crumbled away, and in a little while ihe world would know him for what ho was. «' You recognise hor," said tho priest. •• Yea." " And her child, Madeline, was yours ?" «' I am fain to believe it," said the Advo cate, "although tho proof is not too cl«ar." "Tho proof is thcro," said tho priest, pointing to Pauline. She has sworn it. Knowing that deaths door is open for her to enter—Knowing that hor child, the only bein" she loved on earth, is waiting for her in the eternal land - she would not dare to imperil salvation by swearing falsely. Un happy man 1 Unhappy man 1" and ho sank upon his knees ; " I will pray for you and ior the woman whose lifo you have blighted." , . , , The Advocate did not join the priest in prayer. His stern sense of justice restrained him The punishment ho had brought upon himself he would bear as best ho might, and he would not inflict upon him self the shameful humiliation of tricking himself into a belief that by prayer and tears he could suddenly atone for a sin as terrible as that of which he was guilty. "Father Capel," he said, when tho nriest rose from his knees, "from what you have said, I gather that tho man Gautran made a confession to you before he died Ido not seek to know what that confession was-but with absolute cor talntv I can divine its nature. The man yon saw in my study has in hla possession Gautran's dying declaration, signed by Gautran himself, which charges me with a crime so horrible, that, laden as I am with tho burden of a sin which I donot repudiate, were I guilty of it, I should deserve the]

wont punishment which man and God could in Iliot. Are you aware of the cms tonca of this document!"

" I hear of its existence now for tho first "time," responded the priest. " When I lutt the bedside of this unhappy woman, and when I was wending my way homo through tho storm 1 hiianl cries and screams fur help, as though two men were engaged in a deadly stni>;glo. I proceeded in the direction of the Goniliot, and discovered only Gautran, who had been crushed to the earth by tho falling of a tree, which had been split hy tl.o storm. He admitted that ho and another man had becu lighting, and th it the design was murder, but of his antaguii t 1 could (md no truce. I left Giutran to obtain asssistuuee, and when I returned ho was dead, and some gold which he had asked me to take irom his pockot was jgouc—au indication that, during my absence, human bauds had beou busy about tiim. If GaUUaii's dying declaration be authentic, it must have been obtained while I was seeking assistance.

"I cun piece- the circumstance," said the Advocate. " The man you saw in study was engaged iv tho struggle with Gautran, It was ho who obtained tho declaration, and he who took the gold. In that declara tion, I am charged with undertaking the defeneo of Gauiran, knowing him to b> guilty. It ia t not true. When I defended him I believed him to bo inuoceut, and ho has gone to his account with a foul lie upon his aoul. I do not mention this to you for tho purpose of exciting pity, but because it is simply just that you should hear my donial oi tlie charge. It is also just that you should hear more. Up to the hour of Gautran's acquittal 1 believed him, vilo and degraded as no was, to be innocent of the niurucr; but that night ho met me and conlessed that ho was guilty. My error—call it by what stronger name yon will—dated from that moment, I juggled with myself— 1 had not tho honesty to take the right course. "But oven if 1," he added with a gloomy recollection of his wife and friend, "had not by my own act roQileicd valueless tho fruit-of an earnest endeavour, it would have been done for me by ihoso iv whom 1 placed a micred trust " For several hours Father Capet and tho Advocate remained by tbu bedside of Pau liue, who lay unconscious, as if indeed, as the priest had said, life wat ebbing away hi her sleop. Tho stnrm increased in its Intensity, and bad it not been that tbe little hut which sheltered them was piotected by tun position in which it stood, the tompest would have swopt it away. From time to time the peasant give them particulars or the devastation created by the Hoods which woro rushing furiously trow every hill, but their iiuty chained them to tho bedsido of l'.iuliue. An hour before noon she opened her eyes ; they rested upon the face of the Advocate

" You have come," .she sighed. Hu knelt by ihe bod and addressed her, but it was witli ililliculty he heard tho words she spnkc. Death was vory near. "Waf Madeline my daughter?' he asked.

" Yes," she answered, " as I am about to appear before my God °" The effort oxhauitert her, and she lay still tor many minutes. Then her hand toebly soaKht her pillow, and the Advocate, per ceiving that sac wished to obtain somothiup from und«r if, searched and fouud a small packet. He knew instantly, when she motioned that *he desired him to retain it, that it contained Wie certificate of his daughter's birth. The priest pr.«yed audibly for the departing soul. i'auiiuo's lips moved; tho Advocate placed his car close, Sho breathed the words,

"We shall meet again soon. Pray for forgiveness."

Then death claimed her, aud her earthly soirows wore ended,

CIIAUTER XLV. THE FLIGHT AND THE I'UltSOir. Late in the afternoon the Advocate was stumbling almost blindly through the tem pest towards tho Hou-e of White Shadows. Father Capel had striven in vain to dis suade him from making the attempt to reuch tho villa.

" Tnere is safety only iv the sheltered heights," said the prievt. "By this time ttin valleys are submerged, and tho dwell ings therein ara being swept away. Ah, me, how many of my poor are ruined ; how many dead 1 Not in my experience have I seen a storm as terrible as ibis. It is sent a< a waruiug aud a punishment. Only the strongest houses in the villages that lie iv the valleys will bo üblo to withstand its fury. Be persuaded aud remain here uutil its forco ia spent,"

He apokc to ouo who was deaf t'> reason It seemed to the Advocate a< though the end of his life had come, as though his hold upou the world might at apy moment be suapped, but while he yet lived thero was before hini a tas.k which It waa incumbent upon him to perform. It was imperative that he should have speech with his wife and Arthur Balcombo.

" I have work to do," he said to tho priest, and it must be done to-day."

An unaccustomed not« in his voico caused Father Oapcl to regard him with even a more serious attention than ho had hitherto bestowed upon him. "There are men,"said the priest, " who, when sudden misfortune overtakes them, adopt a desperate expedieut tJ pat an end to worldly trouble, and thus add sin to sin."

" Have no fear for me," said the Advo cate ; " I rim not contemplating suicide. v\ hat fate has iv st >re for mo I will meet without rcpiniug. You caution ma against the storm, yet I perceive that you yourself arc preparing to face it." "I go to my duty," said the priest. " And I to miuo " replied thu Advocate. Thus thoy parted, each Uia separate way. The Advocate bad not calculated tho diffi culties ho vvi's to encounter; his progress was slow, and he had to make wide detours on the road, aud frequently to ro trace his steps for a considerable distance, in order to escape being swept to death by tho fbods. From the ranges all arouud the village in which tho House of White Sha dows was situated, the water was pouring in torrents, which Bwirlcd furiously through tho lower heights, carrying almost certain destruction to those wtio had not already availed themselves of the chances of escape. Teriiflc as was the tempest, he took no lined of it. It was not tho storm of waters, but the storm within his soul, which absorbed him, and ho was completely engrossed by the conflict of feelings by which he waa agitated. Ho met villagers ou tho road Hying for salety. With terror-struck move ments they hurried past, men, women, and children, uttoring cries of alarm at the visi tation. Now aud then, one and another called upon him to turn back. "If yon proceed," theysaid, "youwillhcongulpUed in tho rapids. Turn back if you wish to live." He did not answer them, but dog gedly pursued his way. "My punishment has come," ho thought- "I have no wish to live, nor do I desiro to outlast this day." 'Jnce only, of his own prompting, did he pause. A woman, with little children cling ing to her, passed him, nobbing bitterly. Uin eyes happened to light upon her faco, ho caw in it some likoucss to the peasant girl, wnom, in ycais gone by, he hid be trayed. The likeness might or might not have been there, but it existed certainly in his imagination, Ho stopped and quos.,

tioncit her, nail luarnod tlmt ►lie had beon utterly ruiaed by thn storm, her cottage destroyed, her small savings lost and all her ho|jos blasted. Ho emptied his pockets of money, and gave her want valuables ho had about him. " .Soil tham," ho said, "they will help to purchase you a now homo." She culled down blcssiuys on Irs head, "If she know mis for what 1 nm," ho muttorei), as ho loft her, "she would curso me." On and on ho straggled, and seemed to make no progress. Tue after noon whs waning, and the clouds were growing bluckcr and thicker, when he saw a man stagfioriug towards him. He was about to question him respecting the locality of tho House of White Shadows— his course had been so devious that ho scarcely knew in what direction it liy— when the man showed himacif to be no other than John "Vaiibrugh " Ah," cried Vaubrugh, seizin" the Advo cate's arm, and arresting his scops. " I feared wo had lost you. a line time 1 havo had of it down in your villa yonder I Hud it not been for the storm I sliuiild have been bundled before a Magistrate ova charge of interloping, but everybody had enough to do to look after himself. It was a caso of tho devil take the hindmost. A scurvy trick, thouyh, of yours to desert a comrade; still foe my sake I am glad to see you in tho and of the living " " Have you come straight from tho villa," asked the Advocate.

"Straight 1" cried Vanbrugh, with n de risive laugh. " 1 defy the sohoroat saint to walk straight for fifty yards in such a hur ritune. Three bottles of wine would not rnuko mo so unsteady as this cursed wind enough to stop one's breath, for good or ill, till tho Judgment Day. What I You aro not going on ?" " I am. What should hinder mo?"

"Some small lovo of life—a trivial but human sentiment, There in no one in your house. It is by this time deserted hy all but the rats."

" My wife"—

" Was the lust to loave, with a friend of yours, Arthur Balcombe by name. He and 1 bad some words together. Lot mo tell you. i happened to drop a remark concern™ ing you which ho considered disparaging; aud Lid I been guilty of all tho cardinal sins, he could not have brcn more angered. A truo friend—probably he does not know what I know. Well, 1 shall not enlighten him. You will meet them a litilo lower down on the road—but I advise you not to go too far. The valleys are rivers, carry iug everything headluiig in their course." '•There was an old lawyer in the house. Uo you know what has become of him ?" "I saw him perched on the back of a. fool, being carried away, and by their side a girl with i lie sweetest faco, aud an old woman I should take to bo her grand mother," ( "Farewell," said tha Advocate, wrench ing himself live. " Should we meet again, I will imy you fnr your friendly services." "Well >aid," replied Vanbrugh, "lam content. JVo mm over know you to bj false to your word. A woman, perhaps— but 'that lies in th« pu.st. -^h! what n storm. It Uas though the end of tliß world hud come " " To those whoso minutes aro numbered," H'viii the Advocato, between hid set teeth, " the oud of the world has coma. Farewell once more." "Farewell then," cried VaubrUßb, pro ceeding onward. "For my sake be caro ful of yourself. If ttiia be not the tecond Deluge, 1 will seek you to-morrow," " For me," muttered the Advooite, as he left Vanbrugh, " thoro may be no to morrow." Bearing in mind tho words of Vanbrugh that In; would meet bis wife and Arthur Bnlcouibo lower down on the road, he looked out for thorn, lie saw nn signa of tin in. aud presently ho began to blunder in his course. Ua searched in vain for a familiar landmark, and he knew not in wnich direction the ilouso of White Shadows was situated. Kvuning was fait approaching, when he heaid himself hailed by loud shouts. Tho bounds proceeded from a strongly-built stono hut protected ou three side:) from wind nnd ruin, aud so placed that tho water from tho range* rolled past without injuring it. standing within the doorway was Fritz the fool.

Thinking his wife might have sought shelter there, the Advocate Hindu his way to it, and found theiein assembled, in addition to Fiitz, old l'icrre Laraont, Mother Deuisc and her husband Martin, and their pretty grand-daughter Di'iuetta.

"Welcome, comrade, welcome," cried Pierre Laiuont; "it ia pleasant to see familar faces. Wo woru compelled to lly from the villa, and Fritz bete conveyed us to this hospitable hut, whore wo shall be forced to stay till the storm ceasea. Where is your fair ludy ?"

"It is a question I would ask of you," siid tho Advocato. "Sho is not here, then 1"

11 No. She left the villa before we did, in tho company of your friend -" The slight accent he placed upon tho word caused the Advocate to start, as though ho had re ceived a blow—" Arthur Balcombe. Thoy have doubtless found another saolter as secure as this. A\ re wishod them to wait lor us, but they preferred uot to wait. Frilz had a hard job of it to carry mo to this hut, which he claims as hia own, and which is stored with provisions sullicieur for a month's siege. I have robbed tho old house of its servants, Dionetta here, for whom" (here he dropped his voice) "the fool has a sweet tooth, aud her grandmother, whom I shall pun*iou off. aud Frita him self— an invaluable fool. Fritz, open a botlle of wine, and do tho honors of. your mansion. The Advocate is exhausted."

lhe Advocate did not refuse the wino ; he felt its need to sustain his streugih for the work ho had yet to perform. He glanced round thi! walls.

•' Is there an inner room ?" ho asked. " Yes; thero is the door." " Mtiy I cravo privacy for a fovv niin> utcs ?"

Ptcrro Lamout waved his hand, and tho Advocate walked to the inner room, aud closed the door upon himself.

" What has come ovei: the man?" mused Piorro < amont. " Thoro is in his faco, since yesterday, such a chauge, as it is rare in life's experience to see. It is not pro duced by fatigue. Has bo made discovery ot his fair wile's faithlessness, his friend's treachery ? And should I not behave honestly by him, and make him as wiso as I am.on events withiu my kuowlenge? What use? What uc? But at least ho shall know that the secret of Gautran's guilt is not his alone." 11l themcautime the Advocate was taking advantage of the solitude for which ho had been yearning since he left the bedside of Pauline. It was not until this moment that he could find au opportunity to examine the packet sho had given him. It contained what he imagined—the cor tilicate of the birth of his child. He read it and mentally took note of date, and also of certain words written ou the back, in confirm atton of tho story related to him by John Vanbrugh. No room was there for doubt. Madeline was his child, and by his means her murderer had escaped from justice. " A just God smote him clown," he thought, "so should retribution fall upon me. lam partner iv his crime. Upou my soul lies guilt heavier thau hi*." "Within the certificate of birth was a smaller packet, which he had laid aside. Ho took it up now nnd removed the paper

covering, it was the portrait of his daughter. The picture was that of a young girl just building into womanhood—a girl whose laughing mouth and sparkling eyes conveyed to his heart so keen a torture that lie save utterance to a groan, and covered bia eyes with hii hand to shut out the reproach. ]Jut in the darkness .he kiw a vision which sent violent shudders through him—such a vision as had pu sued Gautni'i in the lon<;ly woods, aa he had men in the waving of branch and leaf, aa had hovered over him in the prison cell, aa had stood hy his side in the court house during lhe trial from which he had cmorgnd a f'ce man. Bitterly was this man, who had reached a height so lofty that it scorned as if calumny could not touch him, bitteily was he expiatiug tlie error of his youth.

Ho foldod tho portrait ot hia child within the certificate of birth, and replaced them in hia pocket. Then, with au oll'ort, he suc ceeded in summoning some kind ot com posure to hia features, and tho next minute rejoined Pierre Lamont. " You will remain with us," said the old lawyer ; " it will he best," "Nay," reapondod tho Advocatft, "n plain duty lies before me, I must seek my wifo."

"She herself is doubtless in a place of shelter," said Pierre Lnrnont, "and while this tempest is raging, devastating the laud in every clircctiou, you can scaicely hope to find her,"

" I shall iind her," said the Advocate in a tone of conviction. " Stern fate, which has dogged my steps since I arrived in Geneva, and brought me to a puss, which, were you acquainted with tho details, would appear incredible to you, will con duct mo to hor side. War.) I otherwise convinced, I must not shrink from my duty." " Outside those walls," urged Pierre Lamont, '■ death stares you in the face." " Thoto arc woi\-e things than death," said the Advocate, with an air of gloomy, and invincible resolution.

"I'solcss to argue with such a man as yourself," said Pierre Lamont. He turned to Fritz. "Go you to your friends into the inner room for a while. I wish to spcuk in private with my friend." " One moment," said the Advocate to the fool as he was preparing to obey Pierre Lamont." You were the last to leave the Hou«c of White Shadows.

'■We were tho last humans," replied Fritz.

" 111 what condition was it at the time ?"

"Iv a mo<t perilous condition. The waters werii risiup; around the walla. It had, I should say, not twelve hour 3to live."

i " To llve,"cchocd Pierre Lamont, striving to impart lightness to hia voice, and signally failine. '" How do you apply that, Fritz I"

" Tri'a< live," replied Fritz, "and their life noes into the houses they help to build. If tho walls of tho old houso we havo run from could talk, mysteries would be brought to light." " You have been my wife's maid," said tho Advocate to Dionett'i, as flic was about to piss him. Dionctta curtseyed. "Has she discharged you ?" Dionetta cast a nervous glance at Pierre Lamont, and another at Mother Denise. Tho old grandmother answered for her.

" I thought it as well," said Mother Uenise, " iv all respect and humility, that so simple a child as Dionetta should be kept to her simple Hie. My lady was good enough to give Uionctta a pair of diamond earrings which wu have left behind us.'1 L'ritz made a grimace, "These things are not lit for poor peasants, and tho pleasure they convoy ia a dangerous pleasure,"

" You an; not favourably disposed towards my wife," said thu Advocate. Mother Denise was silent. " But you are rii>tit in what you say. Diamonds urc not fit gifts for simple maids. I wish you well and your grandchild." It might havo been th« thought of his own child, tno same mo as Dinnccta. and as beautiful, eros-ed his mind. Hfl brushed his hand across his eyes, and when he looked round the room again, he and Pierre Lamont were alone.

"A tool of fools," stti'l Pierre Laraont, looking after Fritz. "If he and tho pretty Dionetta wed—it will be a suitable match, for beauty to mute with folly—he will bo f.ither to c family of fools, who may bo sviaor iv their geucratiou than you and I. Your decision U irrevocable V"

" It is irrevocable." " If you di> liud your wifo,» you will on^ deavour to return to us !"

" I shall liud her." " Aud then!" asked Piorro Lirnont with a singular puckering of his brown. "Audthcu?' echoed tho Advocate, ab ecntly, and added : " who can tell what may happen fiomoue hour to another?"

" How mucU does ho know!" thought Pierre Lamont; "or, ato his suspicions but just aroused ? There is a weight upon his soul that taxes all his strength. It is urumi to Miie a stroug man suffer as he is suffering. Is there a mystery in his trouble with which I am not acquainted ? His vvite—lkuowabouthcr. Guutrun-I know about him. But the stranger he left in his study in the uiidulo of the night—a broken down Kcntlomnu vagabond,with a spice of tbo devil in him— who is ho, and what was hi-i mission If Of oue tbiug I must satisfy myself before I am assured that he is worthy my compassion." Then ho spoke aloud. " You said juat now there are worse things thau death."

" Aye." '• Disgrace?" "In a certain form that may bo borne, aud life yet bo worth the having," "Good. Dishonour?"

" It umttora little," said tko Advocate, " but were the time not precious I should be curious to learn why you desire to get at the hem t of my secret."

"The argument would be too long," said Piorro Laiuout, witU earuostnoss, " but I could justify myself. There ate worao things than deaih. Pardon ma—au older man thau yourself aud quo who is well dis posed towards you —for asking bluntly whether such things have coma to you?"

"They have. You can read the signs on my face."

" Hut if you have a secret, tho revealing of which would be hurtful to you, caauot the mischief bo averted? As far as I can expect, you Lave been frank with me. Frankness for frankness. Say that the secret refers to Gautran and to your defence of him?"

"I have been living in a fool's paradise," said the Advocate, with a scorntul smile. To whom also is this kuown 1

I "To Fritz the Fool and to mo through I" him. He saw Uautran in your study after the trial.

" Ilavo I been watched !"

" The discovery was accidental. He was excited by some love verses I read to him, and becoming soutimontal, he dallied out side Diouetta's wiudow, after the manner of toolish lovers. Then the lights of your study windows attracted him, aud he peeped through. When Gautran left the villa Fritz followed him, and heard him in his terrified soliloquies proclaim his guilt. Were this to go to the world, it would ac cording to its fashion, construe it in a niauncr which might bo fatal to you. 13ut (iautran in dead and I can bo silent, aud cau put a lock upon Fritz's tougue ; for in my soul 1 believe you were not awure the wretch was guilty when you defended him,"

"I thank you. I believed him to be innocent."

" Why, then, my mind is easy, Friend, shake hands.

lie held the Advocate's hand in his thin fingers, and with something of wislfulneas said, " I -would give avoir of my iife if I could prevail upon you to remain wi'.h us.'' " You cannot prevail upon mo, So much being said hot ween us, more is necessary. The avowal of my igtiorauce of Gan trim's guilt ut the time I defended him—l lcirnt it after the trial, mind you—will iiot avail nip, A written confe^-ion, sworn upon his dying oath, oxiss, which accuses me of that nriich tho world will be ready to believe Strange to say, this i» my lightest trouble. ■ There are otuera of graver moment, which more vitally concern me—unknown to you, unless indeed, you possess a wizard's art of divination."

" Comrade,' paid Pierre Lamonc, slowly and with emphasis, " there breathes not in tho world a woman worth the breaking of a man's heart,"

" Stop!" cried the Advocate, in a voice of

agony. In silence he and Pierre Lamont gaz:d upou each other, and in the old lawyer's face tho Advocate saw that hia wife's faith lessness acd his friend's treachery were known.

" Enough," he said, " there is for me no deeper shame, no deeper dishonour." And he turned abruptly from Pierre Lamont, and left tho hut, staggering like a druukuii man.

" Fiitz, Fritz !" cried Pierre Lamont "(Jomc quickly !'' Fritz instantly made his appearance from the inner room, " Look you, Fri'Z,"said the old lawyer, iv a hurried, excited tone, "lhe Advocate has gone upon his mad errand—has gone alone. After him at once, and if you can save him from the consequences of his desperate resolve— if you can adviso, assist him, do so for my sake. Quick, Fritz, quick.' "Master Lamont," anid Fritz, "are you asking me to do a man's work?' " Vos. Fritz, you can do no more." " Well and good. As far as a man dare go, 1 will go ; but if a madman persists in rushing upon certain death, it will not help him for another man to follow his example, t am fond of life, Master Lamont doubly food of it just now for reasons." He jerked his thumb over hia shoulder to the room which contained Dionetta. " But I will do what cau be done. You may depend upon me."

tie was gone at least two hours, and when he returned he was exhausted, and panting for breath. " I wan never born to be drowned," he said, and he threw himself iuto a chair and. sat there gaspinsr. " Well, Fritz, well '!" cried Pierre Lai aor t,

'' Be patient— bo patient. Wait till I get my breath. I followed this great Advo cate as you desired, and for some time, so deep was he iv dreams, ha did not know I was with him. But once, when he was waist high in water—not that he cared, it was as though he was inviting death—and I, who was acquainted with the road through which he was wading, pulled him suddenly back, and so saved his life. He turned upon me savagely and demanded who I was, He recognised me the moment ho spoke the words. I will say this of him, that in tho presence of another man he never loses his self-possession, and that in my belief ho would be a match for death, if it presented itself to him In a visible palpable shape. ''Ah!" said bo, "you are Fritz tho Fool; why do you doe me ?' 'I do uot dog you,'l replied; Master Lamont bade me guide and assist you, if you needed guidance and assistance. He is the only man for whom I would risk my life.' " Honesty is a rare virtue,' ho sai<l, ' keep with me then, for just as long as you know yourself to be safe. You saw my wife aud Mr Balcotnbe leave the House of Whito Shadows. Is it likely they took this road ?' ' They could take no other and live,' I said, 'but there ib no trace of them. Thoy must have turned back to the villa.' ' Could they reach it, do yon think ?' he asked. 'A brave man can do wonders,' I replied, 'some hours ago they may have reached it, but they could not stop in tho lower rooms, which even at that timo must havo been below water-mark. I will not lauswer tor the upper part ot the house at this moment, [and before morning it will ha swept away.' 'Guide me as far on the road as you care to accompany me,1 said he, ' and when you leave me point out the way I should go,' I did so, and we had rare escapes; but for me he would not Inve been alive when I left him. We came to tho bridge which spana the ravine of piues, two miles this side of tbe Houso of Whito Shadows. A great part of it had been torn away, and in the great gulch below, a tor rent was rushiDg fierce enough to beat the life oat ot any living being, human or animal. ' There is no other way but this,' I said, ' to the House of White Shadows. I shall not cross the bridge.' Ho said no word, but struggled on to the bridge, which—all that was left of it -consisted of three slcndur trunks, half hanging over the ravine. It was nothing Bhort of a miracle that he got across. No sooner was he on the other side than the remaining portion of the bridge fell into the gulch. He waved his hand to me, and I soon lost sight of him in the darkness. I scrambled back here a; well I could. Master Juanionr, i never want another journey such as that; had not tho saints watched over mo I should not be here to tell the tale. Thi< is the blackest night in my remembrance." "Do you think ho can escape, Fritz 2" asked Pierre Lamont. s

" ttis life is not worth a straw," replied Fritz. " Look you here, Master Lamont, if I were to sco him to-morrow, or any other day alive, I should know that he is in league with the evil one. No human power can save him."

"Peace be wUh'hiui," said Pierra La mont. "A great man in lost to ÜB— a noblo mind is none."

" Master Lamont," said Fritz scnten tiously, " there is such a thing as being too clever. Better to be a simpleton tban to be overwise or over-conlidout. I intend to re main a fool to the end of my daya. Who climbs must risk the fall. Not rocky peaks, but level ground, with bits of soft moss, for Fritz the fool.

He slopt well aud soundly, but Pierre Lamont to-sed about the whole of the night, thinking with sadness and regret upon the downtall ot the Advocate.

CHAPTER XLV. "RETRIBUTION." An unerring instinct guided him, a super human power possessed him; aud at mid night, though he could keep no count of time, he found himself within the gates of the House of White Shadows. Upon hia lips, contracted and spasmodic with pain and Buttering, appeared a pitiable smile as he gazed nt a window on the upper floor and saw a light reflected from A rtliur Bal combe's room.

"They are there," he muttered, "and I shall not die unavenged.

The water was breast high. He battled through it, and reached the open door, of the villa. Slowly he ascended the stairs uutil he arrived at the lauding above. He listened at Arthur Balcombe's door, but beam no sound. Enraged at the thought that they might, after all, have escaped him, ho dashed into tho room, and called

out the names of his wife and friend. Silence answered him. He staggered to wards the lamp, which stood on the table covered with a fihade, which threw the light downward. Before the lamp wa« a sheet of paper, with writing upon it, and bending over it. the Advocate snv it was addressed to Mm, aud was intended for hi 3 perusal. A tteadier survey of the room brought its revelations. At the extreme end oE the apartment lay a woman, still and motion lea*. He crept towards her and knelt by her, It was his wife, cold and dead.

A rosy tiut was on her cheeks; a smile was on her lips ; her death had brought no suffering wi'h it "Fair and faise," he said. " Beauty is a sin."

Then, turning, be saw L what had before escaped his notice—the form of Arthur Balcombo lying near the table. He put his cur to Balcorabe's heart, and felt a slight beating. •' He can wait," muttered the Advocate. " I will first read what he has written." He was about to sit at the table when he heard a surging sound without. Ho stepped into the passage and Eaw the WAters swavinu beneath him. "It is well," "It is well," he said. "In a little while all will be over for those who have sinned." This rellection softened him somewhat towards those who lay withia the room, aud by whom he believed himself to have been wronged. Was he not himself the greatest sinner in that fatal house ?

He returned to the table, and read whai Arthur Balcombe had written.

" Edward, —I pray that these words may reach your eyes. Above all things on earth have I valued your friendship, and my heart is wrung with auguish by the reproach that I have not been worthy of it. Liist night, when your wife and I parted, I knew that you had discovered the weak and treacherous part I had played towards you, for as I turned towards my room—at that very moment, looking downwards, I saw you below. I did not dare to come to you—l did not dare to show my face to the man I had wronged. It was my inten tion to fly this morning from your presence and herI*l, and never to see you more; and also to write lo you the words, to the truth of which, by the memory of all I hold sacred, I now solemoly swear —that the wrong I have done you is compassed by weak, senti mental declarations. I do. not seek to excuse myself. I know that, bttween you aud me, treachery in thought is as base as treachery in act. Yet in all humbleness 1 implore you to endeavour to find some pal liation, although bat the slightest, of my conduct, in the reflection that sometimes in the strongest men even such a man as your self, whose mind and life are most pure and noble—error cannot always be avoided. We are huried iuto wrong by subtile forces which thrast aside our earnest endeavors to step in the right path. Thus it has been with me. If you will recall certain words which were spoken in our conversation at midnight in the room in which this is written, you will understand what was meant when I said that I flew to the moun tains in the hope that I might rid myself of a terror which possessed me. You, who have never erred, you, who have never sinned, may not be able to find it in your heart to forgive me. If it be so, I bow my head to your judgment—which is just, as in all your actions you are Known to be. But if you cannot forgive me, I entreai you to pity me.

" You were not in the house to-day when we endeavoured to escape to aplace ofmore secure shelter. We did not succeed ; we were driven back, and being engulphed in a sudden rush of water?, i. could not save your wife. It vas I who should have died, r.ot, she ; but my last moments are approach ing. Think kindly of her if you can.

"AETHUB BALCOMBE." Had he not been absorbed, not only in the last words written by Arthur Balcombe, but in thereflectious which they engendered, the Advocate would have known that the Hood was increasing in volume, and that in the shore time he had been in the house, the waters had risen several feet. But he was living an inner liie—a life in which the spiritual part of himself was dominant. He stepped to the body of his wife, and said—

"Poor child I Mine the error!"

Then he knelt down by the side of Arthur Balcombe, and raised him in his arms. Aroused to consciousness, Arthur Balcombe opened his eyes, and he gazed vacantly at the Advocate, but presently a look of terror flushed into them.

■' Be not afraid," said the Advocate. " I have read what you have written. I know all."

"I am very weak," murmured Arthur Balcombe. "If I could hope that you would pity me."

"1 pity and forgive you, arthur," said the a dvocate in a very gentle voice. " Thank God ! Thank God !" said Arthur Balcombe, and closed h's eyes, from which the warm tears guslied. "Godbe merciful to sinners !" murmured the Advocate.

When daylight broke, tho House' of White Shadows and all that it contained had been swept from the face of the earth. A baro waste was all that remained to mark the record of human love and human ambition.

The end,

More American Prophets.

isE3iDis the atorm-foreteliing Wiggins, there are it seems, two other prophets in America, who have delivered themselves of remarkably unpleasant prediction for 18S3. Tho exchange from which we get the news does not say whether thoy are enterprising showmen or merely lunatics, The first is James M, Swormstedt, of Cin cinnati. His lucubrations are as follows : —

"A great financial panic will sweep like wildfire over the United States some time in 18S3, which will prostrate all indus tries, paralyse all business, and throw out of employment every man, woman, and child In the country.

"The condition of the working classes ■will become so desperate, that they will rise up like a flood and sweep away both both Church and State, and fill the land with violence.

" Satan will soon wheel a fleet of seven great comets into line. One will plunge into the sun, producing a great outburst of solar light and heat The moon will be as light as the sun, and the light of the son will be increased sevenfold. The other six will affect the rivers, the sea, the earth, and the air.

"The millennium, or reign of Chrisr, will begin in the United States 40 years before the rest of the world is made new by the pood King." The other hails from New York. He claiois to have had vision?, dreams, im pressions, and warning from "spirit guides" of remarkable changes and disasters to take place soon. He predicts another civfl war for the United States. Not only this country, but overy nation and people on earth will feel the horrors of war, famine, and pestilence, earthquake?, floods, and terrible convulsions of nature. The last king or queen ever to sit upon the throne of Kngland aits there now. Soon the only form of government will be the republican for all people,

The "Army" Craze.

"Tubßlue Eibbon Amy Erai „ ' tivV'i 3 thena m eofaneV2. B>. pound, which is advertised m N «»■ English papers and m m T H fc j claimed to be a cure for "dm' is especially recommended r^V ue.v converts to the Bl Ue .» *J* C There is_ room f or vast eL^C idea, as is shown by tae f,ii "" «l$ from the "Kefereey^^g^ made by "General"Booth,;^»P2 lag concern in connection^'*'»C Array. "Dagonet'-asC »'» security ? l a <k theques^l^S of injuring whatever ma , l^K : worthy of respect in CL^W ask it became I thiok ii J , shocking thing if so£e»'J being m diffionltitt for lack'f^W savings of a number of Don , !°^U imperilled. If the secug'tft'n has to offer is good it C «Z ™c "ft « out.appealing to the n \g 'M positors, and certainly «t L -fati centsifthesecarityiLotZ^^ the ordinary financial assSi certainly ia not good e2Pw ODa- tt« capitalists appealed to °o£tS banking firm there ii no *£$** « should not extend. The7.i 'H' Co-operation Stores tfonlddo'brt W° S enormous patronage. To °♦' ""^t, and candles cheap in this*.??! Oa# «D over, ono a chance of by one and the same kmu2 L ™e*H a feat particularly recommS' the loayes-and-fisheaoS^^t! There is no reason why *l should not start Salvation hiS t'^J1 only the elect woald be carrM** seen riding m which would te', of respectability and ttetaaa^ mi§ ' tion Army chemists' .ffitS .*! other feature. The SalvatoSfe pence-halfpenny a box-' one .' "■*» at prayer-time '-would have u?^ sale; and bottles of mediae 1 1 > an appropriate text would auS*? Then there are restauranS^ palaces to be opened as vell, s «?j* be purchased. In fact there i v?* what " General ", Booth may doif'f"1 gets sufficient capital. HbWlL** Salvation Kothsohild. and S**" tohalfthepotentateVandSl.*' 'army'the. masters not only MvjWt but of Europe." J c" m ;

Extraordinary Experiment Thought-Reading.

A R™4RKABi,nsoett ßffMre^T j Crowded by an Ei^.,^'.!1 W.lrving Bishop, the cekbrjfejfc reader, had announced hii te^mi making a public exhibition of to 3 the duection of reading iMght-twl ticuJar experiment beingto find ffiJu had been hidden some hours pretkiU a place within a radius of 500 ranfaS hotel. InordertoaddintefcsitolKr it had been arranged thaflj aum'H should be handed to the fioyi1 life by Mr Bishop if he failed in the K «iy and by Mr W. Ladyman,: i wE local dentist, if the experiment iiM A crowd of about 15,000 itimM assembled in front of the hotel, wfejnt naliy at one o'clock Mr Bishop, wZ folded and attached to MrlaayuaWj had hidden the pin) byapieceofilinte forte wire, appeared upon the sta(ifo hotel. After pausing for aiWu parently to concentrate his .itofajfa | Bishop dashed off at a tapid pice.udai his way forcibly through thecrairdjiiniß Mr Ladyman after him.- Gre&l^exdS prevailed amongst the:/pectatvrn, * cheered the talentei thorigat-teader si passed along. . Without. hesititioa t Bishop diiected his wiy'along Biij(W street, Great Charlotte-Btreet, and tliiS Clayton Square to the '.Heptane; M i where he mounted to the first steyu found the pin on the outride Id? iti window. He then returned to lie jJii Hotel, where he received aa':eit!na£ ovation. Having to appearoatiiEUa: in acknowledgment, he stated thatlirj happy to have been the mean M ssu' a douation ; small as it wavfoilttW of the Infirmary. Every prectuliii nr taken to secure the bona;fideso!tl4^e| ment, and there can be no doiWßi} was entirely maintained. MfßHipiatl wards stated that immediatdytpcafiq' hicuself in coutact with Mr lidyuiltj formed a picture in his own'mW, mliil of the ronte to followfbut »f tto^fd where the pin was secreted,' It 3i k observed also that the route'tik \]l I Bishop was precisely tbat'folloi Ladyman in couveyingthspliitoiiiS,'; place. ' =====

UNKNOWN.

Afier describing the nature and feds of the stomach, a lecturer the etks Bf went on to say that, like "other pififfllisi willing workers, it .was' ladly■, itH" .being, in fact, the worst-used cigmfait body. Every sort of mew and sboaitita was shoved into it, all of irhich fi w« pected to manufacture into BMtsajß and never to got unfit forwork. -Wt a temperature of about 98deg,iwtW performance of its fdnctipo& mV$ treated it to iced champapiiiJtibsfert point, and the tea-drihkeS'wHrfa w their favourite beveraae it!l»l*t H | almost boiled it alive; the nwwff j it with sweets and .wffjt,;.■•» ". old wifo poisoned ;id::#,<*,l mile and quinine; th^jo»,« emptied into it enough sodssaapW" convert him into soap, ieeoßpi,.".J' alkali he affects-in order'to.,*!™ 8" world of his manlin'esn; uu,!™1?^ dosed it with vinegar to try.to**"" genteel; the poorman;sM««»W cooked bread hot from the bakerW» with over-cooked beef boiled.W*» years ago, the rich man ei*™ftij oyster?, mites and jiw'P^.'SSK kicking, and game W to gonewittF I action that a pig would' wm.SW.5j at it; and if the poor >uam?Z under this extraordinary trsittWiV villainous abomination i»!*?Rj„ covered from the poured into it; *nd-everjWJWffJ and oiegnstiog. that ' e^KL. thought of was swallowtd, with W ** idea of putting it same principle that' inducedO»JWSl thrash her donkey because it.«*»"> so weak with abuse that it CMjW » ? its load. ' .' | ';^';-:I-"

Aresidentinanortli-ManttytoWgJj committed snicide py "u^Epi was held upon the body.,-"JJJLJ! jurors was returning w®9' m,*ilust by a female neighbour, wio.aswu- did the verdic-.say^boot;^^ " They browt it m jfelo-def, m^ juror. " Dis thoo beor, tbaV W „ claimed the inquirer, *«£« jgj> street to a neighbour; -tW™,^, v ry, says the chcp that bm^^.i o dpost fell i 1 the B<ja. : •

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, APRIL Si, 1883.