"HAND AND RING."

By Anna Katherine Guken,

Author of " Tho Leavenworth Murder," " The Sword o.jDamodes," "The Dcfenco of tho Prude," etc.

CHAPTER XXXVII (Continued),

Tins was true ; for her sake her lover had thrown his defence to the winds and rendered the assistance of his counsel un available. Seeing her droop her head abashed, Mr Orcutt dryly proceeded.

" I do not know what may take place in court to-morrow," said lie. "It is difficult to determine what will be the outcome of so complicated a case. Tho District At torney, in consideration of tho deception which has been practised upon you, may refuso to prosecute any further; or, if the case goes on and the jury is called upon for a verdict, they may or may not be moved by its peculiar aspects to acquit it man of such generous dispositions. If they are, I shall do nothing to hinder an acquittal; but ask for no more active measures on my part. I cannot plead for the lover of the woman who lias disgraced mo." This'decision from ono sho had trusted so implicitly seemed to crush her. "Ah," she murmured, "if you did not believe him guilty you would not leave him thus to his fate."

He gave her a short, side-long glance, half-mocking, half-pitiful. "If," sho pursued, "you had felt oven a passing gleam of doubt, such as came to mo when I discovered that he had never really admitted his guilt, you would let no mere' mistake on the part of a woman turn you from ypur duty as counsellor for a man on trial for his life."

His glanco lost its pity and became wholly mocking. "And do you cherish but passing gleams ?" ho sarcastically asked She started back

"I laugh at the inconsistency of women," he cried. '' You have sacrificed everything, «yen risked your life, for a man you really believe guilty of crime ; yet if another man similarly stained asked you for youreonv passion only, you would fly from him as from a pestilence." But no words he could utter of this sort were able to raise any emotion in her now. "Mr Orcutt," she demanded, "do you believe Craik Mansell innocent?"

His old mocking smile came back. " Have I conducted his case as if I be lieved him guilty ?" ho asked. " No, no ; but you are his lawyer; yeu are bound not to let your real thoughts ap pear. But in your secret heart you did not, could not, believe he was free from a crime to which he is linked by so many criminating circumstances ?" But his strange smile remaining un changed, she seemed to waken to a sud den doubt, and leaping impetuously to his side, laid her hand on his arm and ex claimed :

" Oh, sir, if you have ever cherished one hope of his innocence, no matter how faint or small, tell me of it, even if this last dis closure has convinced you of its folly!"

Giving her an icy look, he drew his arm slowly from her grasp and replied : " Mr Mansell has never been considered guilty by me." " Never'i" "Never."

"Not even now?" "Not even now." "It seemed as if she could not believe his words. "Andyet you know all there is against him ; all that I do now I" " I know he visited his aunt's house at or after the time she was murdered, but that is no proof ho killed her, Miss Dare." "No," she admitted with slow convic tion, "no. But why did ho fly in that wild way when he loft it? Why did he go straight to Buffalo, and not wait to give me the interview he promised ?" " Shall I tell you ?" Mr Orcutt inquired, with a dangerous sneer on his lips. "Do you wish to know why this man—the man you have so loved—tho man for whom you would dio this moment, has conducted him self with such marked discretion ?" " Yes," came like a breath from between lul.kene's parted lips. "Well," said the lawyer, dropping his' ■words with cruel clearness, "Mr Mansell has a gre.it faith in women. He has such faith in you. Imogene Dare, he thinks you I -are all you ik-lore yourself to be; that in the hour you sto.od up in court and called yourself a murderer, you spoke but the truth ; that " He stopped ; even his goo -nf ul aplomb would 110 1 allow him to go on in the face of the look she wore. .•g_v—say those words ogam! she gasped. " Let me hear them ,opce more. He thinks what?" . " That you' are what you proclaimed yon?' self to be this Jay, the actual aesailant and murderer of Mrs Clemmene. He has thought so all along, Miss Dare-why I do not know. Whether he saw anything or heard anything in that house from which you saw him fly 80 abruptly, or whether he relied solely upon the testimony of the ring, which you must remember he never ac knowledged having received back from you I only knew that from the minute he heard of his aunt's death his suspicions flew to you, and that, in despite of such suggestions as I felt it judicious to made, they have never suffered shock or been turned feo.m their course from that day to this. -««/<■ honour," concluded Mr Orcutt, with dry sardesm, "does tho man you love show to the woman who has sacrificed for his sake all that the world holds dear." " I-I cannot believe it. You are mock ing me," came inarticulately from her lips while she drew back, step by step, till halt S hovSte g elinyg° s so palpably I hro often trembled lest tho whole fiOUJ* should see and understand them." ~ " You have trembled "—eM COUIQ 'scarcely speak, tho rush of emotion was S° • - e at— "you have trembled lest the whole 21 -t should see he suspected me of this COUi „„ crime. „ ..£_ S' " she cried, "you must have _ _ lhen '. •-_,— Ah !" she hurriedly inter been conym- den look of distrust, " you posed, with as .yourself with me, are are not amusi^ *g» t haye been you, Mr Orcutt? to y-, T dare not laid for me from tn. , t f fien d. Swear trust tne truth of m> „j, *_ iave thought you believe Craik Mans, w this dark this of me I Swear you ha ,_!__. thing lying in his soul, or I "What?" - f the "Will confront him myseh a__vaUs question, if I have to tear down m g^ j of the prison to reach him. His must and will know." '.''old' "Very well, then, you do. I have V you," declared Mr Orcutt. "SweannS would not make it any more true. Lifting her face to heaven, she suddenly fell .upon her knees. ' " 0 God 1" she murmured, " help me to bear this great joy !" "Joy!" . The icy tone, the fierce surprise it ex pressed, started her at once to her feet. "Yes," she murmured, "joy! Dont you see that if he thinks me guilty, he mint be innocent ? lam willing to perish and fall from the ranks of good men and honourable women to be sure ef a fact like this!" "Imogene, Imogene, would you drive me piad ?" She did not seem to hear. "Craik, are you guiltless, then?" she Was saying. "Is the past all a dream ! Are >vo two nothing but victims of dread and aivful circumstances ? Oh, we will see ; life is 'aat ended yet I" And with a burst of hone that seemed to transfigure her into an other woman, she turned toward the law yer with the cry : "If he is innocent, ho can hi «_ved Nothing that has been done by Mmo.t can hurt him if this be so. God, who watches over this crime, has His eye on !_ it. one Though his an be hidden £d£' - mo°"ntai_.of dfcei .it will yet come forth «uilt llko hiS °a r °maln '""You did not think this when you faced _ -?,rt- this morning with perjury on your g," _fmei in-low, ironical tones from her

C°^eaven sometimes accepfa a sacrifice," - .turned " But who will sacrifice him- *-ho could let the trial of one self for 2- ™a" - noce - t go on unhindered ? hekwwtcbj^f^ in a i mos t stifled -tones from the -__' Craik Mansell "If a stranger- g^\ vent on, "and .slew Mrs Clemrn^, 8 ns .. le train of nothing but incompts metoth ;_ act • coincidences unites toonw „ emem ber the ipower call down such a doom q 'She ended with a g^M :» sudden movement, haa iaiu

■ on her lips. «i fi t no curses issue ■without that. rom him in alarm, she __^ S _^_^_ mm _ m _ m _^_

over his face, and taken even the hue of life from his nervously trembling lip. "Mr Orcutt," sho whispered, with ]a solemnity which mado them heedless that the lamp which had been burning lower and lu«er in its socket was giving out its last fitful rays, "if Craik Mansell did not kill Widow Clemmens, who then did ?" Her question—or was it her look and tone ?—seemed to transfix Mr Orcutt. But it was only for-a moment. Turning with a slight gesture to the table at his side, he fumbled with his papers, still oblivious of the flaring lamp, saying slowly : "I have always supposed Gouverneur Hildreth to bo the true author of this crime."

" Gouverneur Hildreth ?"

Mr Orcutt bowed

" I do not agree with you," she returned, moving slowly toward the window. "I am no reader of human hearts, as all my past history shows, but something—is it the voice of God in my breast?—tells me that Gottverneur Hildreth is an innocent as Craik Mansell, and that the truo murderer of Mrs Clemmens " Her words ended in a shriek. The light, which for so long a timo had been nickering to its end, had given one startling Hare in which tlio face of the man bofore her had flashed on her view in a ghastly flame that seemed to separate it from all surrounding objects, then as suddenly gone out, leaving the room in total darkness.

In tho silence that followed, a quick sound as of rushing feet was heard, then tho window was pushed up and the night air came moaning in, Imogeno had lied. Horace Byrd had not followed Hickory in his rush toward the house. Ho had pre ferred to await results under the great tree which, standing just inside the gate, cast its mysterious and far-reaching shadow widely over tho wintry lawn. He was, therefore, alone during most of tho inter view which Miss Dare held with Mr Orcutt in the library, and, boing alone, felt him self a prey to his sensations and the weinl ness of the situation in which he found him self.

Though no longer a victim to the passion with which Miss Daro had at first inspired him, ho was by no means without feeling for this grand if somewhat misguided woman, and his emotions, as he stood there awaiting the issue of her last desperate at tempt to aid the prisoner, were strong enough to make any solitude welcome, though this solitude for some reason held an influence which was anything but en livening, if it was not actually depressing, to one of his ready sensibilities. The tree under which he had taken his stand was, as I have intimated, an old one. It had stood there from time immemorial, and was, as I have heard it since said, nt once the pride ef Mr Orcutt's heart and tho chief ornament of his grounds. Though devoid of foliage at the time, its vast and symmetrical canopy of interlacing branches had caught Mr Byrd's attention from tho first moment of his entrance beneath it, and, preoccupied as he was, he could net prevent his thoughts from reverting now and then with a curious sensation of awe to tho immensity of those great limbs which branched above him. His imagination was so powerfully affected at last that he had a notion of leaving the spot and seeking a nearer look-out in the belt of evergreens that hid the crouching form of Hickory ; but a spell seemed to emanate from the huge trunk against which he leaned that restrained him when he sought to go, and noticing almost at tho samemoment that tho pith which Miss Dare would have totakeran directly under this tree, ho yielded to the apathy of tlio moment and remained where he was.

Soon after ho was visited by Hickory. "lean see nothing and hear nothing," was that individual's hurried salutation. " She and Mr Orcutt are evidently still in the library, but I cannot get a clue to what is going on. I shall keep up my watch, however, for I want to catch a glimpse of her face as she steps from the window." And he was off again before Byrd could reply. But the next instant ho was back, pant ing and breathless. "The light is out in tho library," he cried; "we shall see her no more to-night."

But scarcely had the words left his lips when a faint sound was heard from the region of the piazza, and looking eagerly up the path, they saw the form of Miss Dare coming hurriedly toward them. To slip around into the deepest shadow cast by the tree wa3 but the work of a moment. Meantime, tho moon shone brightly on the walk down which she was speeding, and as, in the agitation of hor departure, she had forgotten to draw down her veil, they succeeded in obtaining a view of her face. It was pale, and wore an expression of fear, while her feet hasted as though she were only filled with thoughts of escape. Seeing this, the two detectives held their breaths, preparing to follow her .as soon as she had passed the tree. But she did not pass the tree. Just as she got within reach of its shadow, a commanding voice was heard calling upon her to stop, and Mr Orcutt came hurrying, in his turn, down the path. "I cannot let you go thus, he cried, pausing beside her on tho walk directly u'ndqt'jtb.etree. "If you command mo to save Craik I must do it. What you wish must be dofte, Imogene." " My wishes should not be needed to lead you to do your duty by the man you believe to be Innocent of the charge for which he is being jtrjed," was her earnest and strangely cold reply. "Perhaps not," ho muttered, bitterly; "but—ah, Imogen-,'' he suddenly broke forth, in a way to startle th,ese two detec tives, who, however suspicions they had been of his passion, had never before had i the opportunity of seeing him under its control, "what have you made ef mo with your bewildering graces and indomitable soul? Before I knew you, life was a round of honourable duties and serene pleasures. I lived in my profession, and found my greatest delight in its exercise. But now

" What now-." she asjeeo.. " I seem "—he said, and the hard, cold selfishness that underlay all his actions, however generous they may haye been in appearance, was apparent in his words and tones—"lseem to forget everything; oven my standing and fame as a lawyer, in the pne fear that, although lost to me, you will vet i.ye to eiveyourself to another." "If vnu ?ear that * shall ever be s0 weak as to give my-."^ Craik Mansell," was her steady reply, "VP« have only to recall the promise I made yoll "*m y°u ™der" took hie case." " Yes." said he, " but that >vas $Ti6. y°u yourself believed him guilty.' "I know," she returned; "but if he were not good enough for me then, I am not good enough for him now. Do you for get I am blotted with 9. sta.yi that can never be effaced? When I stood up h) court to day and denounced myself as guilty of crime, I signed away all my chances of future happiness." There was a pause ; Mr Orcutt seemed to he thinking. From the position occupied by jfcbe two detectives his shadow could be seep oscillating to and fro on the lawn, then, -amid £he hush of night-a deathly .'-tish-undistuifcd, as Mr Byrd afterward ;', narked, by so.wu. b as the cracking of a ll,{' his voice ,rose .wet, yet vaguely _»_fnr *n the words.: "You h^e Gonquerei jLf tujy man suffers for this crime ft ehaV net ;h,e oifs MSK_Je~vas never fL-fcfed. Before the words could leave his mjmtl v s»gn stranee, and splitting sound was heard fhnvo thefr heads, iivsn a terrifying rush took pC and a gr.atfeb lay upon the w_lk whet, but a moment before.thebewto ful fcjm of Imogene Dare lifted ife* by the side of the eminent lawyer. When a full sense of tho terrible nature of the cakmity which had ust occurred _«r__. across the minds of the benumbed and attitude of lawgene in ™» ot » similar, if less fatal catastrophe at the hut, exclaimed under his breath : "It is the vengeance of Heaven I Imo gene Dare must have b»enmore guilty than we believed." „„«-- But when, after a superhuman exertion of strength, and the assistance of many hands, the limb was at length raised, it was found that, although both had been prostrated by its weight, only one re mained stretched and senseless upon the ground, and that was not Imogene Dare, but the great lawyer, Mr Orcutt.

CHAPTER XXNVIII. UNEXI'ECTKD WORDS. It will have blood: they say blood will have Stones have been known to move, and trees to Auinirs arid understood relations have, By magot-pies and choughs and rooks, brought forth ... i The secret'st man of blood. Foul whisperings are abroad; unnatural deads nobreS.unnaturaltroubles; Infeetea minds _oSdwtl^owswmd__-__^irse^t_ <'M_o_on_idead?" "Dying, sir." "How, when, where? «•__ his own house, sir. He has been .o^fromh^be^^the^Udings,

messenger liefore him—who was none other than Mr Byrd—and with difficulty restrained his emotion.

" I sympathise with your horror and sur prise," exclaimed the detective respect fully. Then, with a strange mixture of em barrassment and agitation, added : " It is considered absolutely necessary that you come to the house. He may yet speak— and—and—you will find Miss Dare there," he concluded, with a peculiarly hesitating glance and a rapid movement toward the door.

Mr Ferris, who, as wo know, cherished a strong feeling of friendship for Mr Orcutt, stared uneasily at the departing form of the detective.

"What do you say?" he repeated. "Miss Dare there, in Mr Orcutt's house?'

The short " Yes," and the celerity with which Mr Byrd vanished, gave him the ap pearance of one anxious to escape further inquiries. Astonished, as woll as greatly distressed, the District Attorney made speedy prepara tions for following him, and soon was in tho street. Ho found it all alive with eager citizens, who, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, were rushing hither and thither in search of particulars concerning this sudden calamity; and upon reaching the house itself, found it wollrigh sur rounded by an agitated throng of neigh bours and friends.

Simply pausing at tho gate to cast ono glance at the tree and its fallen limb, ho made his way to the front door. It was immediately opened. Dr. Trcdwcll, whose face it was .1 shock to encounter in this place, stood before him, and farther back a group of such favoured friends as had been allowed to enter the house. Something in tho look of the coroner, as ho silently reached forth his hand in salutation, added to tho mysterious impression which had been mado upon Mr Ferris by the manner, if not words, of Mr Byrd. Feeling that ho was losing his self-com mand, the i .strict Attorney grasped the hand that was held out to him, and huskily inquired if Mr Orcutt was still alive._ The coroner, who had been standing be fore him with a troubled brow and lowered eyes, gravely bowed, and quietly leading the way, ushered him forward to Mr Orcutt's bedroom door. Thero he paused and looked as if he would liko to speak, but hastily changing his mind, opened the door and motioned the District Attorney in. As ho did so, he cast a meaning and solemn look toward tho bed, then drew back, watdiing with evident anxiety what the effect of tho scone before him would have upon this now witness. A stupefying one it seemed, for Mr Ferris, pausing in his approach, looked at tho cluster of persons about the bod, and then drew his hand across his eyes liko a man in a maze. Suddenly ho turned upon Dr. Tredwell with the same strange look ho had himself seen in tho eyes of Byrd, and said, almost as if the words were forced from his lips i " This is no new sight to us, doctor ; we have been spectators of a scene liko this bo fore."

That was it. As nearly as the alteration in circumstances and surroundings would allow, the spectacle before him was the samo as that which ho had oncountered mouths before in a small cottage at the other end of tho town. On the bed a pallid, senseless, but slowly breathing form, whoso features, stamped with the approach of death stared at thorn with marble-like rigidity from beneath tho heavy bandages which proclaimed the injury to bo ono on the head. At his sido tho loctor—the same one who had been called in to attend Mrs Olemniens—wearing, as he did then, a look of sombre anticipation which Mr Ferris ox pec .d every instant to see culminate in the solemn gesture which lie had used at tho willow's- bedside before sho spoke Even the group of women who clustered about tho foot of tho couch wore much the same expression as those who waited for move ment on the part of Mrs Clemmens ; and had it not, been for tho siglii of Imogeno Dare sitting immovable and watchful on tho farther sido of tho bed, he might al most have imagined he was transported hack to the old scene, and that all this now horror under which he was labouring was a dream from which he would speedily be awakened.

But Imogcne's face, her look, her air of patient waiting, were not to bo mistaken. Attention once really attracted to her, it was not possible for it to wander elsewhere. Even the face of the dying man and the eountonar.ee of the watchful physician paled in interest before that fixed look which, never wavering) never altering, studied the marble visage before her, for the first faint signs of reawakening consciousness. Even his sister, who, if weak of mind, was most certainly of a loving disposition, seemed to feel tho force of the tie that bound Imogene to that pillow; and, though she hovered nearer and nearer the beloved form as tho weariful moments sped by, did not presume to interpose hor grief or her assistance be tween the burning eye of Imogene and the immovable form of her stricken brother.

The bush that lay upon tho room was un broken save by the agitated breaths of all present. "Is there no hope '!" whis] ered Mr Ferris to Dr. Tiedwcll, as, seeing no immediate prospect of change, thoy sought for seats at tho other sido of the room.

" No ; the wound is strangely liko that which Mrs Clemmen3 received. He will rouse, probably, but he will not live. Our only comfort is that in this case it is not a murder."

The District Attorney mado a gesture in the direction of Imogene. " How came she to be here?" he asked.

Dr. Trodwell rose and drew him from the room.

"It needs some explanation," ho said; and began to relate to him how Mr Orcutt was oscorting Miss Dare to the gate when tho bough fell which seemed likely to rob him of his life.

Mr Ferris, through whoso mind those old words of the widow were run ning in a way that could only be accounted for by memories which the scene within had awakened —" May the vengeance of heaven light upon the head cf him who has brought me to this pass ! May the fate that has come upon me be visited upon him, measure for measure, blow for blow, death for death I"—turned with impressive gravity and asked if Miss Dare had not been hurt. But Dr. Trcdwplt shook his' head. "She is not even bruised," said he. " And yet was on his arm ?" " Possibly, though I very much doubt

" She was standing at his side," uttered the quiet voice of Mr Byrd in their ear; " and disappeared when ho did, under tho foiling branch. She must have been bruis.4, though she says not. I do not think sne in »i; a condition to feel her in juries." " You- were present, then," observed Mr Ferris, with v meaning glance at the detec tive.

"I was present," ho returned, with a look tho District Attorney did not find it difficult to understand.

"Is there anything you ought to tell me?" Mr Ferris inquired, when a moment or so later the coroner had been drawn away by a friend.

"Idonot know," said Byrd. "Of the conversation that passed between Miss Dare and Mr Orcutt, but a short portion camo to our ears. It is her manner, her actions, I that have astonished us, and made us ntixiotl. to have you upon the spot." And he told with what an expression of fear she h^d j?.d from her interview- w!t_ Mr Orcutt in the l*!?^ r7' &«<* then gave, as nearly as he coul.di an a&!^uij. pf what had passed between them before the JAllng of the fatal limb. Finally lie said ; "Hickory and I expected to find her lying crushed and bleeding beneath, but instead of that, no sooner was the bough lifted than she sprang to her knees, and .eolng Mr Orcutt lying before her insensible, bent over him with that same expression of breathless awo and expectation which you see in her now. It looks as if she wero waiting for him to rouse and finish the sentcnae that was cut short by this catastrophe." " And what was that sentence ?" "As near as I can recollect, it was this : •' If any man suffers for this crime it shall not be Craik Mansell, but ' He did not have time tj say whom." " My poor friend !" ejaculated Mr Ferris, " cut down in the exercise of his duties 1 It is a mysterious providence—a very mysteri ous providence I" And crossing again to.the sick-room, he went sadly in. He found the aspect unchanged. On the pillow the same white, immovable faepy at the bedside the same constant and expec tant watchers. Imogene especially seemed scarcely to have made a move in all the time of his absence. Like a marble image watching over a form of clay she sat silent, breathless, intent—a sight to draw alt eyes and satisfy none ; for her look was not one of grief, nor of awe, nor of hope, yet it had that within it which made her presence there seem a matter of right even to those who did not know the exact character of the bond which had united her to the un happy sufferer. Mr Ferris, who had been only too ready to accept Mr Byrd's explanation of her con duct, allowed himself to gaze at her un hindered.

Overwhelmed as he was by the calamity which promised to rob the Bar of one of its most distinguished advocates, and himself of a long-tried friend, he could not but feel the throb of those deep interests which, to

the estimation of this woman at least, hung upon a word which thoso dying lips might utter. And swayed by this feeling, he un consciously became n third watcher, though for what, and in hope of what, he could scarcely havo told, so much was he be numbed by the suddenness of this great catastrophe, and tho extraordinary circum stances by which it was surrounded.

And so one o'clock came and passed.

It was not the last time the clock struck before a change came. The hour of two went by, then that of three, and still, to the casual eye, all remained the same. But oro the stroke of four was heard, Mr Ferris, who had relaxed his survey of Imogene to bestow a fuller attention upon his friend, fell, an indefinable sensation of dismay assail him, and rising- to his feet, drew a step or so nearer the bed, and looked at its silei-t occupant with tho air of a man who would fain shut his eyes to tho moaning of what ho sees before him. At the same moment Mr Byrd, who had just come in, found him self attracted by the subtle difference he observed in tho expression of Miss Dare. The expectancy in hor look was gone, and its entire expression was that of awe. Ad vancing to the side of Mr Ferris, ho glanced down at the dying lawyer. He at once saw what it was that had so attracted and moved the District Attorney. A change bad come over Mr Orcutt's face. Though rigid still, and unrelieved by any signs of returning consciousness, it was no longer that of n man they knew, but a strango face, owning tlio samo features, but distin guished now by a look sinister as it was un accustomed, filling the breasts of those who saw it with dismay, and making any con templation of his countenance more, than painful to those who loved him. Nor did it decrease as thoy watched him. Like that charmed writing which appears on a blank paper when it is subjected to tho heat, tho subtle, .unmistakable lines came out, moment by moment, on th_*mtisk of his unconscious lace, till even Imogene trembled, and turned an appealing glance upon Mr I.'.iris, .'!■• if to bid him note this involuntary evidence of nature against the purity and good intentions of the man who had always stood so high in the world's re gard. Then, satisfied", perhaps, with tho expression she encountered on the face of the District Attorney, she looked back; and the heavy minutes wont Oil, only more drearily, and perhaps more fearfully, than before.

Suddenly—was it at a gesture of tho physician, or a* look from Imogeno?—a thrill of expectation passed through the room, and Dr. Tredwell, Mr Ferris, and a certain other gentleman who had but just entered at a remote corner of the apart ment, camo hurriedly forward and stood at the foot of the bed. At tho same instant Imogeno rose, and motioning thorn a trifle aside, with an air of mingled entreaty and command, bent slowly down toward the injured man. A look of recognition answered her from the face up on the pillow, but she did not wait to meet it, nor pause for tho word that evidently trembled on his momentarily conscious lip. Shutting out with her form tho group of anxious watchers behind her, she threw all her soul into tho regard with which she held him enchained; then slowly, solemnly, but with unyielding determina tion, uttered these words, which no one there could know were but a repetition of a question made a few eventful hours ago : "If Craik Mansell is not the man who killed Mrs Clemmons, do you, Mr Orcutt, toll us who is!" and, pausing, remained with tier gazo fixed demandingly on that of the lawyer, undeterted by tho smothered exclamations cf those who witnessed this scene and missed ils clue or found it only in the supposition that this last great shock had unsettled her mind.

Tho panting sufferer just trembling on tho verge of life thrilled all down his onco aleit and nervous frame, then searching her fnco for one sign of relenting, unclosed his rigid lips and said, with emphasis:

" lias not Pate spoken '!" Instantly linogetio sprang erect, and, amid the stilled shrieks of tlio women and tho muttered exclamations of tho men, pointed at tho recumbent figure before them, saying:

" You hoar ! Tromont Orcutt declares upon his deathbed that it is the voice of Heaven which has spoken in this dreadful calamity. You who wore present when Mrs Clemmons breathed her imprecations on the head of her murderer, must know what that, means."

Mr Ferris, who of all present, perhaps, possessed the greatest regard for the lawyer, gave an ejaculation of surprise at this, and bounding forward, lifted her away from tho bed.-de ho believed her to have .so ba«ely desecrated.

"Madwoman," he cried, "where will your ravings end? Ho will tell no such tale to me."

But when ho bent nlovo the lawyer with tho question forced from him by Miss Dare's words, lie found him already lapsed into that strange insensibility which was every moment showing itself more and more to bo tho porcursor of death.

The sight seemed to rob Mr Ferris of his last, grain of self-command, Rising, ho confronted the dazed faces of tho.-o about him with a severe look.

" This charge," sajd he, "is akin to that ' which Miss Dare mado against herself in tho court yesterday morning. When a woman has becomo crazed sho np lpngor knows what she says," But Imogeno, strong in tho belief that the hand of Heaven had pointed out the culprit for whom they had so long been searching, shook hor head in quiet denial, and simply saying, "Nono of you know this man as I do," moved quietly aside to a dim corner, where sho sat down in calm expectation of another awakening on tho part of tho dying lawyer. It came soon—came before Mr Fen-is had recovered himself, or Dr. Tredwell had had a chance to give any utterance to the emotions which this scene was calculated to awaken. Housing as the widow had done, but seeming to see no one, not even the physician who bent close at his side, Mr Orcutt lifted his voice again, this time in the old stentorian tones which he used in court, and clearly, firmly exclaimed : " Blood will have blood I" Then in lower and more familiar accepts, cried; "Ah, Imogpne, Imogene, it was all for you I" And with her name on his lips, the great lawyer closed his eyes again, and sank toy the last time into a state of insensibility.

Imogens at oncp rose.

" I mußt go," she munnnred ; my duty in this place is done." And she attempted to cross tho floor.

But the purpose which had sustained her being at an end, she felt tho full weight of her misery, and looking in tho faces about her, and seeing nothing there but reproba tion, she tottered and would have fallen had not a certain portly gentleman who stood near by put forth his arm to sustain her. Accepting the support with gratitude, but scarcely pausing to note from what source it camo, she turned for an instant to Mr Ferris.

"I realise," said sho, !'with what sur prise you must have heard'the revelation which has just come from Mr Orcutt. ljp's. So unexpected is it that'jou' cannot yof, be lieve it, but the tinio will oowe when, of all the words p-have spoken, these alone will bo found worthy your full credit; that not Craik Mnnsell, not Gouvorneur Hildroth, not oven unhappy Imogeno Dare herself, could toll you so much of the real cause and manner of M rs Clommens's death as this man who lies striken hero a victim of Divine iustjeo." - . * merely stopping to cast ono final i i "U- "+i "--t-ion of the bed, she look .in the in...... v* . _ ,„;„„+»_ stumbled from tho room. A__ mwHW? later and she reached tho front door; but only to fall against the lintel with a moan: '"My words aro true, but who will ever believe them ?■"

"Pardon mo," cxclainjcd a b\ai)i and fatherly voice over her shoulder, "I am a man who can believe in anything. Put your confidence in me, Miss Dare, and we will see—we will see."

Startled by her surprise into new life, she gave one glance at the gentleman who had followed her to the door. It was the same who had offered her his arm, and whom she supposed to have remained be hind hei' in MrOrcutt's room. She saw be fore her a largo comfortable-looking person age of middle ago, of no groat pretensions to elegance or culture, but bearing that within his face which, oddly enough, ballled her understanding while it encouraged her trust. This ' was the more peculiar in that ho was not looking at her, but stood, with his eyes fixed on the fading light of the hall-lamp, which he surveyed with an expression of concern that almost amounted to pity. " Sir. who are you {" she treinblingly asked. Dropping his eyes from the lamp, he riveted them upon "the veil she held tightly clasped in her right hand. "If you will allow me the liberty of whispering in your car, I will soon tell you," said he. She bent her weary head downward ; he at once leaned toward her and murmured a half-dozen words that made her instantly start erect with new light in her eyes.

" And you will help me ?" she cried. " What else am I here for ?" he answered. And turning toward a quiet figure which she now saw for the first time standing on the threshold of a small room near by, he said with the calmness of a master :

•-Hickory, see that no one-enters or

leaves the sick-room till I return." And offering Imogene his arm, he conducted her into the library, the door of which he shut to behind them.

(To be Continued.)

A PRIMA DONNA AND HER LOVERS.

Recollections of Patti's Early Life.

A well-known actress, who is also a pro fessional beauty, was ono day exchanging a little pleasant banter on tho subject of her lovers. On being questioned politely re specting one of them, for whom she was supposed to entertain a more than passing fancy, she declared, with an easy laugh, " Well, I did love him madly, while we playing at T— , und it was very pleasant; but in the course of timo we went on to '/_ , whoro I saw another whom I liked better, and I forgot all about the first one." And so, perhaps, it is with most actresses and prima donnas, whose fancies aro as many and as fleeting as their admirers. The world hears of these things ; sometimes it is tho divorce court, sometimes a volume written by a friend, which reveals the secret. Some amusing recollections of Mdmc. Patti's early life have just beon published by Fraulein Louisa Lauw. This lady, we are told, lived with the great prima donna from 1863 to 1877. The record begins with tho appearance of tho seventeen-year-old prima donna in London, and is carried down to the time when the disturbances in tho domestic affairs of tho Marquis de Caux appear to have caused a separation between the two ladies. Fraulion Lauw begins by telling how tlio Patti family mado tho acquaint ance of a venerable Italian, to whom Patti became so attached that she called him her "dear papa." She was at his homo nearly every day, and there ono evening at dinner mot two young Milanese of very engaging manners. With one of those handsome young fellows she fell in love. "Papa Patti" was consulted, and gave his consent, but on ono condition. " Wait," he said. The betrothed lovers had to accept tho un bending docision of the father, and put up for tho time being with the privilege of meeting each other twice n week in the house 01-he papa. Adelina continued her career of triumph, but whilo the public performed almost im possible things in its enthusiasm, Adelina's betrothed sat in. his chair as if on coals ; his eyes Hashed flames and daggers in all directions. But it was not the public alono whoso enthusiasm enraged the young Othello; tho lava of his jealousy poured also over the artists who supported her. When the great Mario, as Romeo, kissed his Juliet, it seemed as if the jealous one hunted in his pockets for a bomb with which to destroy hia supposed rival. More and more consumed by jealousy, the young man declared to Adelina's father that he would wait no longer, and must incon tinently marry liiH love. His insane be haviour led Papa Patti to feaY that if married to su6h a man Adelina's lot would not be one of roses, Tho two men qtiaraolled. Adelina was besido herself, and wopt bitterly when she heard of the rapid conclusion of her lovo idyll. When a fow months later they learned that Signor M. had failed in businosf, " ho was no longer mentioned," says tho Fraulion in winding up tho episode. Tho story goes on to tell of tho Sunday evening meetings at Tatti's houso during the winter after she had returned from her London season to Paris. From these gatherings Nilsson was seldom absent, und among tho most diligent visitors were Gustavo Dote, tho Vioomto Dartt, Baton St. Armand, and tho Marquis de Caux.

Adelina looked forward to the meeting with tho Marquis with glad oxcitcmont. One evening—it was uftera performance of "Traviata"— the Marquis remained with us after a few friends had departed from Adelina's dressing-room. As ho always re peated conscientiously the town gossip to us, Adelina turned smilingly toward him asked, "Well, Marquis, what is thero now —what is Paris talking about?" "The newest thing," was tho answer, "is that we are engaged." I must admit that this answer startled me, and that 1 looked tit Adelina with my curiosity on a tension. Her features seemed enlivened by an inex pressible loveliness. Smilingly she said to tho Marquis : " Ard why not? I hope it would not bo unpleasant for you ?" At first embarrassed, thon joyfully moved, the Marquis was only able to stammer the words: "No, certainly not, I would be the happiest of mortals if it were true !" Blushingly Adelina extended her hand to tho Marquis, who was almost beside him self with joy, while she said: "I, too, would bo happy." Wildly tho Marquis pressed the proffered hand to his lips ; in toxicated with joy, he clasped Adelina in his arms, then hurried away speechless But Adelina, in a long, warm oinbrnce, whispered tho sweet confession to me : "I am very happy 1" It is said that Pattiat first took a strong aversion to Signor Nicolini, "because of his habit of boasting of his conquests." _ rnulein Lauw tells incidents of his break ing of contracts and making new engage ments in order to sing with Patti. The domestic catastrophe in the house of the Marquis de Cnux is described as follows :— When the Moscow season was approach ing its end the Marquis learned that Nicolini intended to come from Naples to St. Petersburg, and, after breaking his con tract a_the formor place, had offered to sing at the latter twelve times without compensation. Immediately on his arrival in the Russian metropolis the Marquis de manded that "Romeo and Juliet," in which opera Nicolini was to sing the part of Romeo, should be stricken from the reper tory, and that there should bo no joint ap pearance of thiß singer and his wife in the season. The directors assured tho Marquis that his demands should bo complied with ; constrained, probably, by the two artists, they nevertheless permitted the announce ment of Nicolini'sappearance in "Traviata. 1 In his rage, because of this duplicity of the directors, the Marquis sent word to Impresario Ferry that he was determined npt to permit his wife to appear at all. In his despair Ferry promised to substitute Massini for Nicolini; but when the cur tain rose on the evening of the performance Nicolini nevertheless appeared on the stage. The continued excitement threw mo upon a sick-bed. The physician declared that a speedy^change of air was the best medicine for me.' Tho Marquis understood only too well how this proscription fitted my illness; ho felt that my recovery in his house was not to bo hoped for. " Adelina received the intelligence of my imminent departure with indifference," says the Fraulein, sadly. "Our farewell was exceedingly cool and frosty, as if it was with a stranger instead of a friend, a sister. In her I had lost the dearest thing on earth. A few weeks later the Marquis de Caux shared the loss with me."

Lessons in Cooking.

A yo.no married couple wero before Justice Smith, at Essex Market, a few days ago, tho former to answci for threaten ing to abandon his wife.

"Young man," said the magistrate sternly, "why do you wish to abandon your wife ?"

" Because of her cooking," he answered. "Her tea, coffee, and soup, taste like dish water, and the meat and vegetables are i **"W done. Judge, what would you do if you had awn- wl »0 C? vldn't cook ?" "Judge," said the wife, _?? eyes flashing indignantly, "I'd like to see a WO.mfln of my age beat mo in cooking a boefsteak. The troublo with my husband is that ho is not usedtb'm'y'eopki'ng. His mother is pile of those old-fashioned ppok_," " That's just it," ejaculated the husband, " and that is the reason I wanted you to take cooking lessonßfrom her." "What do you take me for, anyway?" said the angry wife. "I think that my mother is as smart as yours, and I learned from her." " She taught you to make tea and coffee very nicely," sneered the husband. " She did, and if you come to my house, Judge, I'll give you the nicest cup of coffee you ever tasted in your life. Oh ! you won't come. Then let me fetch you a cup to-morrow."

" I never drink coffee," said the Justice.

" Then let me tell you why the coffee is so weak. He has a schedule of how much and what I should buy during the week. I'm allowed half a pound of coqee a week. Think of it, Judge. Half a pound and two cups each a day. Do you wonder now why it's weak."

The magistrate smiled and severely lec tured tho husband, after which the couple left the court-room.

A RattlbS-TAKe's Bite.—The quick venom of the rattlesnake has not killed so many people as the more insidious but deadly poison found in the air of foul rooms. The aeration of the blood by the lungs becomes impossible some times, and the failing health, growirg weak ness, and loss of appetite are harbingers of ap proaching death. For such cases Hop Bitters are the potent and all-poweWul remedy to drive all fivers out of the System. purifyiDg the blood, and giving a now and happy lease of lire, NoMee,

The Great Agrarian Murder

Nicholas Flint, Lord Grabmore's agent, was, like His master, a well-hated man, but while tlio Peer was more hated by the

tenantry than feared, the agent was more feared than hated. It was not tender ness on the part of his lordship which, before Nicholas Flint became his agent, prevented him from making a merciless use of his power to evict, and tho tenants—lrish peasants are, as a rule, shrewd judges of character"— knew this. They never for a moment imagined that Lord Grabmore's mildness towards them had been dic tated by consideration for them. They knew that he was essentially a cruel and selfish man, but that, like many cruel and selfish mon, he was a coward, and hesitated to adopt severe measures to increase his somewhat scanty income, only because he was afraid their adoption would put his life in jeopardy. And they wore right. Once ho came under tho influence of Flint's stronger nature, his whole con duct was changed. He employed with out hesitation the most inhuman means to increase the value of his property; indeed, after a time, their employment seemed to givo him poaitivc pleasure Flint was of a different stamp from bis lordship. He was a man of tho most resolute determination and most reckless courage. Whenever he had made up his mind that anything should bo done, no matter1 what misery it might produce, or what cry of shame it raised over the country, or what hatred and danger it brought upon himself, done it was. Ho was actuated by no feeling of hostility towards the unfor tunate people who trembled before him. On tho contrary, ho was animated by tho most conscientious conviction that in acting as ho did ho was doing his duty, not merely towards his employer, but towards society, and not merely towards society, but towards the tenants themselves. He had, as ho often said, to be cruel to bo kind. In fact, he was an ardent believer in, and victim of, tho Irish agent's creed. It taught him that there could bo no prosperity on an estate of small holdings, and to bring prosperity he ovicted cottiers and united their plots. It taught him that nothing improved farming like salting well the land with rent; and to improve farming he screwed the rents up to the highest farthing. And unsloubtedly, un der this treatment, Lord Grabmore's estate greatly improved in appearance. But that improvement was bought with much suffer ing and the desolation of many humble homes.

Whatever might bo tho result of this system of estate management, it could scarcely be expected that the existing generation of tenants, who suffered all its privations and experienced nono pf its benefits, would regard its originator with kindness; and they did not. He was looked upon by them with absolute detesta tion and abject terror. They considered his cDiidu.ct so atrocious as to be incredible in an ordinary human being. Many be hoved he must have sold himself to Satan, and not a few had a suspicion that ho was tho Old Gentleman himself. Tho whole country regarded him as the incarnation of evil, bringing with him all manner of trouble and misfortune wherever ho went. Yet in his very character he found a cert-in protection from their ill-will. Ho went abroad, and mixed freely with tho people, unarmed and unattended ; and though at tho sight of his pule, delicate face, and thin drooping moustache, the children shrieked and tho women crossed themselves, nobody interfered with him. lie even wandered about the country at night alone ; yet the tenants sought only to keep out of his way. It was too dangerous a task to tackle such a fierce and dauntless enemy. Vet his few friends regarded bis recklessness with misgivings, and felt that it must some day end in calamity. They again and again remonstrated with him, but without effect. Tho authorities offered him a police guard, but he rejected the oiler with contempt. Flint was a widower, but not childless. If, as his enemies alleged, his wife had died of a broken heart, no one could affirm that there was much likelihood of a similar fate befalling his two sons. These wore now young men of three-and-twenty and one and-twenty respectively, and as unlike their father tis sons could well be. They were of a bright and frolicsome disposition, always enjoying themselves, and glad to see others doingthosamo.butfoolhardyand thoughtless in tho extreme. Their exuberant animal spirits and thoughtlessness were continu ally getting them into scrapes ; but never on one occasion was their father heard to address to them a single harsh word. His affection for them, indeed, was the one soft spot in his hard heart. When these lads arrived from Dublin, where they were both studying for the Bar, to spend their Christmas vacation with their father, the country had been for a long time convulsed by agrarian troubles. Hitherto, however, though there had been a few minor outrages on Lord Grabmore's estate, it had been free from mur der. His lordship, aware of his unpopular ity, had sought safety in England ; but Flint, although, if possible, still more un popular, in no way altered his ways on account of the state of the country. He still, in spite of every remonstrance, per sisted in his habit of going abroad at till hours, unarmed and alone. He rejected all offers of police protection, and seemed to rely for safety solely on the terror of his name; and apparently with good reason. His very recklessness led the superstitious tenantry to believo that ho did not fear attack, because, by a compact with the devil, he was assured for a certain time against death. But his few friends could not be blind to the risk to which ho was exposing himself, and so strongly was his. danger felt by somo of them that they might have been said to have awaited daily tho news of his assassination.

As the fear of outrage had driven most of tho gentry from the neighbourhood, and as the farmers had put a stop to hunting, Mr Flint's boys had little company or sport to amuse them during their Christinas vacation ; and, as neither of them was of a studious disposition, before long they wore at a loss how to kill tho time. One day, as the elder of them, after having smoked until ho was nearly sick, was wondering what ho should do next, his brother Harry came up to him. " Nick," said he, " I've an idea." " Have you ?" said Nick, " Out with it." " What do you say, old follow?" ' This variation on the usual " Old boy " was sug gested by Nick's name. "What do you say, old fellow, to our perpetrating a great agrarian murder ?" said Harry. "What?" cried Nick. "Do you mean we should murder some of the landlords or agents in tho neighbourhood ?" "No, no; only pretend to do it. Stuff an old suit of clothes with straw, take it out with us some night in the dog-cart, drive to Ballymulwhacking, throw it on the road, pour out some pig's blood—there are two to bo killed tp-niqrrpw,y_ii know—then fire two or three shots, and when tho people are coming put of their houses,, pitch the dummy back into tho dog-cart ami drive off like the douco. That would create stir enough in tho country to keop us in fun till we got back to Dublin." " Very likely ; but what if we're found out ?"

" Not much ohanco of that. There's no horso-poUoo near Ballymulwhaoking, and with tho black mare wo oould escape if there were. Besides, oven if we wore found out, it wouldn't matter much."

Nicholas did not altogether agree with this, and at first declined to take any part in the business; but ultimately tho im petuosity of his younger brother overcame his prudence, and they resolved to carry cut the project the very next night. They se.lfeh.ci up an old suit of their father's, stuffed it with straw, and tied on it one of his hats.' Putting this |n thf-ir dqg-oart, and furnished besides with some pigs' blood and a revolver, they set out a few hours after dark, Making a wide circuit from their father's bouse, they reached BaHymul* whacking about midnight. The village was silent, every house was shut, and every in habitant asleep. When they had passed through it to the end next their homo they begarf operations. Throwing some pig's blood upon the road, they tossed the dummy near it, and then Harry fired three shots from the revolver in not very rapid succes sion. Before he had stopped firing, half a dozen windows were opened, and as many heads popped put. He sprang to tho ground, and flung the dummy back into the dog-cart. By the time he got back himself, several people, more or less un clothed, were in the road calling out and running towards them. Thp boys saw it was time to be off, so slashing the mare into a furious gallop, they rapidly disappeared from tho villagers, They were three or four hundred yards past the last cottage, and were beginning to moderate the mare's pace and lau^h over the consternation they had caused, when they suddenly became aware that a horse man was following them. The clatter of their own animal and vehicle had pre vented them until now from hearing him; and when they became conscious of his presence he was close upon them. Once more they put the mare to _fer swiftest pace, and, for a moment, seemed to be distancing their pursuer; but their animal was tired by the long drive

they had already taken, and it soon became evident that the horseman was gaining upon them. Thoy could distinguish his figure in the dark — that of a fine, brcad-shoul dorod man on a big, broad - breasted horse. They began to sec that their joke might turn out anything but enjoyable for them, and to think with any thing but pleasure of the scandal their absurd behaviour would provoke. Every moment their pursuer came closer. If they were to escape, evidently something must be done. Harry, in his impulsive manner, determined to fire wide of the horseman, in the hope that he might thus scare him from further pursuit. Turning in his seat he aimed several yards off him and fired, but, as he did so, a sudden jolt of the dog-cart altered his position, and to his intense horror, both horse and rider went down before his pistol. Nicholas, who was driving, pulled up in a perfect agony of apprehension, and Harry sprang down te run to the fallen horseman's assist ance. He had scarcely reached the ground, however, when he observed that the horseman was on his feet, and while Harry stood irresolute whether to go towards him or remount the dog-cart, the crack of the stranger's pistol and the whistling of the bullet past his ear determined him. He sprang back on the dog-cart, and called on Nicholas to drive for his life. As the mare dashed off the stranger tired again, and the tearing of the ball through Harry's sleeve showed the boys the danger they were in. A third shot followed, but by that time the dog-cart was beyond pistol range, and they were safe.

It was not until they had traversed several miles that thoy thought of moderat ing the mare's headlong pace. The country they were then in was sparsely peopled ; and so, to avoid being noticed, and as there seemed no reason to believe that they were being followed, they slackened speed and began to talk over thoir night's adventures. It was no longer the mere inno cei_ fun it appeared to be before the horseman turned up. They had, they fully saw, got into a serious scrape, and they could not help acknowledging to themsolves that, if they were discovered, it was possible that at tho approaching assizes they might havo to defend themselves against the charge of attempted murder. Tho only consoling point they could find in thewholebusinesswasthat their pursuer had not been, as they had at one time feared, injured by the shot; the bullet had evidently struck the horse only — probably on one of the forelegs. For a time they were in doubt whether it would not bo the wisest course to go in the morn ing to the police-station and confess all. They might by so doing escape any danger of being indicted. But, after some discus sion they agreed that, as tho chance of dis covery was small and the ignominy of con fession great, the best they could do was to take every possible precaution to baffle inquiry. They accordingly pulled the dummy to pieces, and cast the straw with which it was stuffed into a road-side ditch. Whilo doing so they noticed, to their alarm, that tho hat was missing. Upon considera tion, however, they became reassured. It was extremely unlikely that an old felt hat, such as halt the farmers in the country wore, would be anything like a sufficient clue to put the police on the right scent. Then, having finished the work of dismant ling the dummy, they drove round by a cir cuitous route, so as to reach their father's house by a different road from that leading from Ballymulwhacking. When they reached home they were pleased to see that nobody was yet about. They entered quietly, and, after putting up the horse and dog-cart, and hiding tho old clothes, they went to their bedrooms without apparently disturbing any of the house's sleeping in mates.

Though both tho boys were extremely tired by their night's exertions, neither of them siept well. They could not free their minds from the fear that tho morning would bring exposure of the whole absurd affair, and, though their father had always shown them great indulgence in their boy ish escapades, they felt that their present behaviour had overstepped the hounds of even his patience. Besides, even should he find no fault with them, they knew that their conduct, if discovered, must give him considerable pain, and, as they both bore him undoubted affection, this knowledge did not contribute to their peace of mind. It was early morning, and Nicholas had just at length fallen into a troubled sleep, when he was awakened by a rather loud knocking at the door. The first thought that came into his head was that everything had been found out. Springing out of bed, he asked in a stem voice what all the row was about.

" Oh I sir," said the old housekeeper from without—" Oh ! sir, the master didn't come last night, and there's a policeman below inquiring about him. I'm afraid some thing bad has happened to him, sir." In a second all recollection of lost night's adventures was out of young Nick's head. "Call Harry," he said, "and tell the policeman I'll be with him in a minute." Hastily throwing on some clothes, he hurried down to the hall where the police man was awaiting him. It was old Sergeant Grimshaw, whom he knew well— a rugged and clear-sighted old fellow from the North. Before he had well returned Nicholas's salutation, Harry came running down in his dressing-gown from his bed room, pale and excited. '"Well, sergeant," said Nicholas, "I hoar yoii are asking about niy father ; has anything happened to him J " I greatly fear it, sir," replied Grimshaw, in his strong Ulster accent and official style. " Last night sub-constables O'Mulligan and O'Reilly, when out on night-duty, heard several shots, but when they reached tho place the offenders had disappeared; though it was clear that a murderous out rage had been committed, for the road was covered with blood. Sub-Inspector Hurry just then arrived. He was riding home from his uncle's, in tho Mullamore direc tion, where he had been dining. Hearing that the criminals had driven off, he pursued them, but when he overtook them they fired on him, and broke his horse's, leg. Afterwards sub-constable O-tfuHigan found on the road a hatvyith your father's initials in it and a pistol-shot through it. They i took the body with them, and we haven't yet found it,'- " And where did this take place, ser geant ?" asked Nicholas, his face pale with excitement. "At Ballymulwhacking," sir^" Replied tho sergeant. The two brotl^si glanced at one another in confusion, They knew not what to say. At length Nicholas asked if tho sub -inspector was hurt, "No, air," answered the sergeant, " only a hit shaken." "Would he recognise his assailants again ?" "No, sir, he doesn't think he would. The night was very dark, and he saw little of them ; but he noticed by the flash, of their pistol that they weren'^ dressed like farmers, but townspeople, k may say« your honours," a^dpel "the sergeant, in a con fidential way, and at tho same timo with, a knowing air, "I may say, your honours, we have a suspicion that they are agents sent up from London to do the job." Nicholas reflected for a moment, and then said : " Well, sergeant, if you wait until wo dress, we'll go with yo.u to the sub inspector." " Weli, sir," said the sergeant, "I'm in charge of tho men searching the road the murderers drovo off by. for tho body, and I'd rather go there. But Mr Hurry told me to oall here and request you to go to him at Ballymulwhacking as soon as you could."

This tho young men agreed to do, and the sergeant took his departure. As soon as he was gone they retired to Harry's bedroom, and there began to consider whether they should at once explain to the sub-inspector tho true version of the Ballymulwhacking affair, or wait to see how things would turn. out. One thing seemed cl?ar—rsomething serious ha,d bpfatfen their 'ather. Though he was accustomed to take midnight walks, he never had been known to remain out long after midnight; and neither of the boys could doubt that he had been murdered. To allow, then, the pclice te remain even for an heur on the wrong scent, was simply to play into the murderers' hands—perb.p. to secure them their escape fro_ jußtice. The boys there, fore determined to go straight to" tee sub inspector and confess all. Just as they were starting off for this purpose, the postmaster arrived with some letters, Nicholas glanced hurriedly at the superscriptions. One of them seemed strange to him. The letter it'was on was from Cork, and. was addressed to himself, He tore it open, and tho moment his eye met the writing he almost fainted. After reading the contents rapidly he handed it to Harry, It ran as follows; — My bear Boys,—l am a ruined man. I have abused my position, to _ob .mf/ employer. It was all through stock speculation. I always thought my luck would change, and so kept on until all hope was gone. I had not the heart to tell you, my boys, how I had disgraced you. lam bound for America, and you'll never hear of me again. Thank God, the pittance your mother left you will save you from starvation. May God protect you, is the one prayer of your heartbroken > Fatheb.

The brothers were dumbfounded. They could not for a time realise their posi tion, When they became calmer, now

ever, and considered the state of affairs, they found it somewhat improved. Their father's life, at len.t.. was sale, and if they only let tho police persist tin the scent thoy were following, ni» honour too might bo preserved. t'l.cy proceeded, therefore, to the sub-inspector, and, after a long conßultatiPn with him, agreed that the perpetrators ef the Bttllyniulwlmekitig out rage must be their father's murderers, titid that the proper course was to discover them. They were the bolder in recommending this.as they found that the sub-inspector did not for a moment suspect them. Great at tempts were made to discover themiscreants, and large rewards were offered—the sons themselves, premising one of £250; but it is scarcely necessary to say that the crime remained a mystery.

How We Saved Our Madeirn.

It was the close of our Christmas dinner, and we were draining the lust bottle of the old Madeira. The vintage was exhausted ; and we knew when we reverentially placed the aged flask on the table that, under ex isting circumstances, it was to us as tho sole survivor of an Indian race—the last of the Madeiras.

With wistful eyes we watched tho golden tide ebb lower and lower, and not a few cal culations were made by expectant members of the half-circle about our fireside, as to who would bo the allottee of the last precious drops.

Radiant to the last, like a sun, it finally set into the wineglass of an old gontleman whose seat was nearest the fire.

Others of the company had drained their glasses, fearing that unless they exhibited a decided deficit, tho costly wine would by acclamation bo passed on wards. Not so the old gentleman. Slowly and solemnly he added tho remainder of the Madeira to his already fair supply; then heaving a sigh, he handed tho empty bottle to his disappointed successor, placed the full glass on tho mantelpiece, and contemplated it.

There was a befitting silence for some moments.

The old gentleman tasted his Madeira with a melancholy relish, and having at tracted everybody's attention by an exag gerated "' hem !" volunteered the following story, which, as I recollect it to have eclipsed any other on the same occasion, I have attempted to reproduce briefly thus :— In the island of Barbadoes it was usual for absentee land proprietors to be repre sented by some agricultural agent, or ''at torney "as he was called there. This im portant functionary, in common with most people in England, had his boxing season at Christmas, and it was customary to send certain annual presents for his acceptance, such as hams, barrels of spiced beef, cheese, and wine. Some years ago a Mr Hollingsworth was the attorney or manager of certain estates in Barbadoes, called the Codrington Estates, under trust to to the Society for the Propa gation of the Gospel. As usual at '.hristmas time, one year this gentleman received as a gift a hogshead of special Madeira. As might be supposed, great value was sot upon the wine, and all care was taken of it during its transit to the island. On an appointed day orders were given for broaching the cask, and great expecta tions were naturally raised; a group sur rounded the hogshead ; the cooper was oaded, the wine tapped; but, to the vast disapf ointment of all, the Madeira was found to be in a highly acetous state— in plain English, the valued wine was vine gar ! Something had happened to it! Every said so. Knowing hands declared, perhaps not without truth, that the failure was owing to defective fermentation, insufficient fining, or careless cashing. Be that as it might, the wine was spoiled, and, save for kitohen purposes, worthless ; and even for that use it was not as yet entirely fit. Well, the cask was rolled out into the mill-yard with expressions of disgust, tho head unhooped, and carelessly placed over the top of the hogshead, for the purpose of allowing the rays of the sun to ripen the deceitful Madeira into honest vinegar. No dependt nee was t. be placed in it—it was left to its fate. Some six or .eight months afterwards, upon the occasion of eotne festivity at the "great house," the preparation of some piece de resistance required the assistance of vinegar. The kitchen stock was exhausted —the nearest neighbours, of course, were singularly enough in want, at that moment, of all the little that remained to them. The waiters were at their wits' end ; and the cook, under the combined influence of pressure of work and the absence of the neoessary ingredients, was almost a maniac. Heated negroes rushed tumultuously to Mr Hollingsworth with the lamentablo tidings. He soon bethought him of the despised Madeira. On the hint, away flew the rabble to the mill yp,rd, and instan taneously some of thp contents of the exiled cask were drawn off in a jug.

But no expression of relief shone in the intelligent countenances of those whe has tily tasted the liquer. Evidently their difficulty was not solved. Something was the matter with the Madeira again. Sfowly the drawers retrace their steps, bearing the jug with the perverted liquor at arm's length, lest the manifest presence of a darker power than even Cuffee himself should do them harm.

Mr Hollingsworth tasted the contents. He started! Surprise, but not alarm,, agitated him. The negroes watched with mistrust and fear. i

Mr Hollingsworth tasted i(j again ;' he smiled this time, negroes breathed again.

Thero, was e\ strange convulsion of Mr H.s eyelid: it was a telegraph of inward appreciation.

" Roll the cask into the cellar. Hcpp on the head carefully. Lccktho door and bring me the key."

The order was rapidly obeyed. Dismissing the still unsatisfied negroes, Mr Hollingsworth creeps to cellar, enters, taps the wine, tastes the wine, drinks it. He lav plis aloud I And why ? The vinegar \a no longer vinegar, but super lative Madeira!

How they drank that night! Evidently the host had kept the good wine until now. How they drank I- 4nd wijs there ever such Madeira ! General Hayoes endorsed it; and the then rector of St, John's parish certified to its merits " with meditative grunts of much content." Well, the wiw didn't last very long. The climate oi the West Indies is, I con fess, a very thirsty climate. It passed away, deeply regretted by all who knew it worth. And when they came to the bottom of the cask the secret came out, which had worked this wonderful cure and metamor phosis. At the bottom of the hogshead, in various stages of decompo^tioh^ lay the bodies of four or five Isrg;?,'__«<_ !■

It is well known that animal matter re fines wine, The rats, thirsty souls, stopped to drink, and met an acetic grave. But their good lived after them, and their epitaphs were the praises over the Madiera they had saved.

The Maori King in London.

The London correspondent of the "Argus" writes under date June 13th ;<—Tawhiao and his chiefs are still "starring" iv London. They create a mild sensation when they ap pear in the prowled streets, but are not i run after as Cetewayo was. Were they to wear their national 'costume—a blanket thrown loosely over the shoulder and a flax mat round the loins—they would be more appreciated by the gamins of London. In the sable costume which they consider to be the height of fashion, they look like, ani mated figures out of some proviueiai wax works exhibition. The " King M intimated that he would be "at home* v m bis board ing house at Moat&g«e plaoe from 11 to 1 o'clock each dfty> and this announcement was pretty generally interpreted to mean that the Maoris would be "on view"' between those hours. They were accord ingly overwhelmed with visitors, but when Tawhiao desires to shorten an interview he sends away his interpreter, a divioo which has been found very effectual in clearing the room of inquisitive interviewers. But though the number and kind of callers have worried the Maoris somewhat, they have been very much amused thereby. One lady wished to introduce her daughter, who can sing a Maori song in the native tongue, but the offer was declined. Another had got a matfitforthoking tositon. Shesaid she had been told that it was made for that special purpose, and His Majesty might have it for the trifling sum of 100 guineas. Also de clined with thanks. An enterprising tailor offered to clothe the whole embassy from top to toe gratis, and. to supply further orders at haft-price^ This offer very much offended the ch^efc/and was curtly declined. Another caller sent up a card wi£h merely his name on it, and was very indignant when he was not granted an interview. '■ His mission was understood to be the con version of the Maoris, and to make arrange ments for their appearance in public as members of the Salvation Amy, ,- : ■'.:■/..-j __. ______________i___i___

Social Tyranny in the United States.

Tm-: sight of people coming out of church is a melancholy spectacle in the United States. In.-tead of a crowd of smiling faces, none but grave and rigid countenances are

visible. 0110 would say that instead of .;; colcbratin;; the Creator's praise they had | beeii weopiiii. at a funeral.

Nevertheless, religious services are the | ladies' amusement —their only amusement o _. —on Sundays, when the milliners' shops -,-:',. are t hut. Their sole conversation that day g|| i.5 to ask the iady friends whom they meet, ./A "What church have you been lo to-day?" They never ask, " Have you been to church?" It would be an insult to sup pose the contrary. It would never do for -MA anyone to admit that no form of worship: if?s; or sect had been followed, no service at tended upon that day. This social tyranny is only a remnant of the Calvinistic spirit whose intolerant influence continued to be left long after the V establishment of the Republican govern ment. A few extracts from the Puritan ' Code will furnish examples of the strange restrictions imposed by the lawgivers on i personal freedom. No one, says the law, shall make use of ; tobacco, without first having produced before a magistrate a certificate signed by A a doctor of medicino attesting that tobacco is necessary for that person's health. He will then receive his license, and may smoke. Wine and spiritous drinks wero'subject to like restrictions. A domestic who got ~';: tipsy was fined live pounds sterling. The sect of Quaker.-, or Friend?, who re cused to kill wild Indians, were put undor the ban. "No Quaker," said the code, "shall receive board or lodging. Who ever turns Quaker shall bo banished, and if ~.: he returns be hanged." 'o|^B Article 17. On tho Lord's Day no one .. shall run, nor stroll in his garden, nor else where. He may only walk with gravity to church and back again. Article IS. On the Lord's Day no one shall travel, or cook, or make beds, or sweep the house, or have his hair cut, or shave. Article 31. Everyone is forbidden to ,> read the English Liturgy, to keep Christ- >oV:j mas, to mako mince pies, to dance, and to 'A play on any musical instrument, except the drum, the trumpet, and the Jew's harp. Although this code is nearly two hundred years old, some of its rules were still i_s&9 vigour in 1780, and even yet exist—so proi", Sffl found an' impression have tiny left on the » manners of the people. Thus, not long ago, the circulation of carriages on Sundays _\ was legally suppressed in the streets of Boston, across which chains were stretched during the hours of divine service; and '■: smoking in the streets of that city is still punished by a fine of twenty shillings. . "- In America you enjoy perfect freedom, only you may not in most things do as you please. The so-called temperance Bocieties are not less oppressive than the religious : '• sects. In some Northern State* they have obtained tho prohibition of ail retail sale of , wine and spirits, to the great annoyance of , « Europeans, who are dbliged to elude the i law by all sorts of artifices. Nor do Americans hesitate to follow their example^ Protended invalids manage to obtain from druggists alcoholic beverages under the : alias of medicine. If, in this land of discussion, political liberty is unlimited, social liberty suffers numerous restrictions. But it is the most precious liberty which is sacrificed. The right of founding a journal at will, and of voting on every possible question, are no doubt excellent privileges ; but the right ' of going to or staying away from church or the play at pleasure, and . of drinking what your health re quires and your stomach craves for, are ,-. , ■„'-,}, better still. In fact, there was more ■' freedom in many matters at Paris and,'! '*; Vienna, even under their most despotic go-.'' : >: vernments, than thero is at Boston and New M. Gaillardet significantly remarks that ';. between the present French Republic and ■ ''■<_ tho Republic of the United States thero exists this similitude, that both "wer^^af' founded by men who were very moderate ijjf and indifferent Republicans. No legislu- l" tive body evoy enjoyed greater privflegee than the United States Republican Senate, which is as far removed from all Democratic principle as is the English House of Lords, 1 '■■ except that it is not hereditary. In fact, the two senators of Delaware are represen-' 'ffA, tatives of the people with no greater reality • than the Archbishop of Canterbury, v_io ,g _> a peer because ho is the head of the _»n_ii__ 1 Church.—From "All the Year R^und/' ,A What Machinery _fas Done for 9 the World. The time was no.& long ago when by- Wm large class pi. people, engaged in the : '! :j various hwiches of handicraft, machinery was Ippked upon ns the natural enemy of .j labour, and it. introduction denounced and M | opposed at every point as ' a rainotfe-'iif innovation upon the rights and interegts'ofisi i the latter. But time and experience have to a great extent corrected this popular error, even in the minds ef those, whose:' {5!. former occupations have been destroyed or ■ changed by it, and new lahour-saviiig machinery has come to be universally regarded in its true relations to society, and as the best friend and benefactor to tht. hiimau race. Tho prejudices and sceptici.iu which assailed it at every step and stage of its growth have at length passed away; all j of us are now ready to acknowledge that ft. S A_ I has done, more to increase the" sum of , j human, happiness, and to build up those 1* tent industries which lie at the base of rvjodern civilization, than all other agencies together. , Tho discovery of the steam-engine was, 1 of course, the great tost _nd the most .; far-reaching in its results, of any of those inventions which have S\d.tituted machine- ' ! work for manual labour. The enormous ' ! power thus genewrted and applied to the -« simple process of turning a crank has set in 1 motion hundreds and thousands of other M machine, whoso office is to do more cheaply , . and expeditiously, as well as more skilfully i lin many cases, the work which human ;| hands wore formerly wont to slowly and I painfully accomplish. Thus Jiave the A Utopian dreams of the enthusiasts of pilW^ generations been realized, the baft results • I of scientific investigation and discoverj.-'Sj reduced to practice, a new realm of art- -'.'.J : created and opened up to the working mat* iljl ;as well as thescholar, and commodii ies wh_c_ Jj I from the__ighcostanddii_cultmant__ctuV l e-'jM : were once considered articles of luxury or ' j curiosity are now placed within, reach of;iaU^M| By cheapening and facilitating the ,'L various processes of production, the üße'j3ftuP machinery has vastly stimulated; the' I consumption of both, the necessaries andV^j comforts of life. At the same timo^'t f hJßj§B increased consumption has reacted uponi^a production, enlarging the sphere '. fe^__S|*' branches of industry, and creating new imtMH , highe. fields for the employ_tent°of s_ffi|3|lß , labour. In these new fields the working ma»l|| , I has found full compensation for those from J which he has been driven by the tireless, oj muscles of steel,, and the nimble, :"'_»«§» petually moving figures of wood, bi__fslf|s iron. Ar4 what a relief is this to the | weary, coiling masses, who kayo been..-.} accustomed to work out the most insig-vS nificant results in productive indnttry at a 1 ;v..st expenditure of time and labour. How 1 ; often tho strongest and most perseyetjjgfJßß.'. would involuntarily shrink from o t-asklft^ffl theperformaince of which must be broii&h. j an almost superhuman degree of patieneW | ,and endurance. Now all this is clian^ed,; | ;and the brains and vigilance of .the .maiSjf} only are taxed, in the way of supQirvisiOi^^i while the machine is busy in doing ' ; thsß|* hard work which once devolved: upon the- J former. This is as it should iio,: ilnd^L further progress is to be mr.,de iivthe>^bi_tS~<4 direction for the emancipation of tho human||s raCe from mere physical toil and drudgery. 1 At the same time labour is to be educatena and elevated, and its rewards scale! upto \j a point which will bring it in close.: I, relations and sympathy with capital.-— I " Australasian Machinery Market." I

Bull Fights in France.

Tub announcement that bull fights are no .;{ longer to be permitted at Nimes and other I towns in the south of Franco appeal, to f.av. I greatly irritated the inhabitants of th&ttfl localities—or, perhaps, it would bo :ratis9j|,' exact to say a portion of them; aud a§S| hieeting has been held at Nimes to protest, ; againstthecominginterdiction. Bullfights*, ; I contend these lovers of a cruel sjxjrfc, wc mW£\ recreation much to the taste of tiio southern, population; they form a diversion highly appreciated, and such spectaclesare popular. It may be so. There are, perhaps, peopleSH s thesouth who enjoy seeing animals tortured,. I just as there are people in Paris who d<slf|lg ' pleasure from witnessing a public execfitSffl ; on the Place dela Boquettej but after '.the! sickeninp sight at the last bull fight .an Nimes, it will occur to most men that _ue_ a barbarous kind of amusement ought to be put down. The bulls were subjects) fo aslowmartyrdoßi; they werekilledby inch*. A and atrociously tortured by men who were not even tolerably proficient in their calling. It was, in fact, a simple butchery, a S&Ss -quinary spectacle of the most revoltine® I description. It is a poor argument in favour.-.; 1 of such sights that they "suit the popular' I taste;" and it is to be hoped that the Frendjj ;" 1 Minister of the Interior will adhere to hi.'- I determination of prohibiting bull figbt^||jSH '■ any part of France for the future,—"Stand, m

; ..,..,v. J^^; ,., ! — .--. i. ...J|i!ipi.4?pp^^fi-_--_^^ THE AUCKLAND EVENING S^AR, SATURDAY, AUGUST 976, .1884.

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