JENKINS & CO.; OR, THE EGOTIST.

A NOVKL, by K. WERNER,

Specially Translated for tho Auckland Star from the German by K. Nicholson),

Author of "Student's Manual of German Literature," " Cltronolotrical Guide to English Literature," Sec.

CHAPTER X,

A SACRIFICE

On the following morning the two brothers went to the study of the elder one after breakfast to be alono together. Sandow sat at the writing table; his face wore an expression which had not rested on it for vears-a glimmer of the happiness of Srdayl but his brow was clouded as he talked to his brother, who leant against the window near him. "So you really mean to desert me, and r H^M*^ SerwYste wU and be his successor. \ou need no who ly drop your pen for that; the principal burden of the work will rest on my shoulders as before. Our press is more powerful and Influential than yours ; you willl.nda wider and freer field hero than at home. Take it into consideration." „.,,-, . " It needs no consideration,' said liustav, decidedly. "I can only use my own interest and power of work in ono cause ; merchant and journalist would never do. But, however large the intellectual field might be here, the roots of my whole life are" so deeply set in my old home that I could have no aetivo existence elsewhere. And as to our partnership, we should never a»ree. For a fow weeks I could endure to bo silent and woar the mask of a subordin ate, as I did not wish to cause a breach for Frieda's sake. But now, Frank, I must tell you plainly that your business practice."*, your whole commercial customs nnd ways, would not suit me at all. They have led you into partnership with a Jenkins, and that is judgment enough on Sandow did not turn on him, as he would have done formerly nt such a declaration ; his frown only grow deeper. " You look at tho thing from your stand point,and I from mine. Your calling gives you freedom of view nnd action ; I stand in the midst of moro or less conflicting interests, and cannot always choose my means. Man is seldom the master of his circumstances. I wish "ho said, and paused for a moment, then went on hurriedly, "I wish I had not gone into this partnership with Jenkins. It is dono now, and I cannot get out of it." •■ Can't you ? Is thero no way out? "I told you I had invested hundreds of thousands in the speculation, nnd that they are risked if the thing does not succeed, or if I withdraw from it." " Then you must withdraw at the risk of that loss. Sandow looked at him as if ho could not believe his ears. " At the risk of such a loss as that ? Are you in earnest? Have you any idea what such a sum means? I have dono what I could, I have tried to separate from Jenkins on good terms—to my own detriment, for he becime suspicious. In his last letter he asked, in unmistakable mistrust, whether I needed the capital so much that I must withdraw it nt any cost. Ho seems to think I have had losses, doubts my credit perhaps, and that is the worst that can happen to a merchant. I must go into the thing with all my might to make up for my want of foresight." "I brought you jour child yesterday, said Gustav, gravely, "and I think you have gained more thereby than you can lose on this. For Frieda's sake I hoped you would withdraw from a speculation which must prevent you from looking your daughter straight in the face." Sandow turned impatiently away, and his voice took tho old hard tone as he "For Frieda's sake! Shall I mako my new-found child poor? Shall I rob her of half of her fortune ?" " She would havo enough with the other half, and I do not believe tho whole would bring any blessing if bought at such a " Hold your tongue I you do not under stand it. A retreat at all risks such as you propose is impossible, so I will not here an other word on the subject. Of course, I release you from your promise, for now I know you, I am sure you have not written that article." ~•__,,» "The first is ready," replied Gustav coldly. "It will certainly be the last; one is enough for that purpose. I meant to give you the manuscript this morning. Here it is." He drew out some written sheets and Sassed them to his brother, who took them oub .fully, and looked at them in question ing uncertainty. " " Read them, said Gustav shortly. Sandow began to read, slowly at first, then hurriedly; he turned the pages over with trembling hands and skimmed through them. His face turned redder and redder as he went on, and when half way through he pitched the manuscript on to the writing " Are you mad ? You have written that ? You mean to publish that ? What you are revealing to the world is too fearful." Gustav drew himself up to his full height and went closer to his brother. •• Fearful, yes it is ! And the most dread ful thing is that it is true. I was there on the spot, and can prove every word that I have written. Draw back while therei is time, Frank. This article published m the C Gazette, and reprinted by the whole German press, cannot help but have its effect The attention of the Consulate of the Ministry will be drawn to it; it will be laid to Jenkins's charge, or.at any rate, care •will be taken that no more fail into his hands unwarned." _ " You are very proud of the prospective effects of your pen," exclaimed Sandow, en raged. "You forget that I, too, am co- ; partner in that property which you de scribe so abominably, and that every word is directed against the fortune and honour of your brother. You not only rum me by it, but you show me up to all the world as * ""no, I do not, for you will cut loose from this company of knavos, and I shall be able to add that my brother, who joined too speculation unwittingly, has withdrawn from it purposely, at great pecuniary loss, when his eyes were opened to its injurious effects. Tell your partner so, if you are afraid that ha will turn it against your credit. The truts. is every way best in this

**» And you think that Jenkins would credit mo, the merchant, head of Clifford & Co with such a mad whim? He would simply think I had lost my senses. ''Possibly, as those honourable men have no conscience themselves, they cannot »n ---deratand that anybody else is troubled with one AU the same, you icist try your beSandow paced the room in evident agitation for some time, then stood still, and ■Doke with catching breath : "You do not know what it is to put your hand in a wasp's nest. You will be safe enough from their stings in Europe, but 1 must bide out their revenge here. Jenkins will never forgive me if my name is Billed up with such a revelation. .He has in fluence enough to set all who are many way connected with the affair against sue, and there are hundrods. You don't know the iron chain of interests which surrounds and connects us hero. One depends on the other, and one supports tho other. «oe to him who frees himself from itof his own ac rord and offers combat to his old com nAnions They all swear to ruin him, Jiis X will be undermined, his schemes ?riated. and ho himself libelled and oersecuted till he is done for. I cannot en- SurTsuch attacks just now. Jessie's for tune will be lost to the firm, and I have en feebled my own means with this under- Uking ; « it should fail it would be the bo- S& °f ruin for rae* * haY? BP°* M Sy to you as you have spoken to me. Now go and publish your revelation to the choked with agitation. «-■ f?w3 Wankly before him, and the brow was deeper and more *fflLrKnow you were so hemmed Cn In Tl_7*s that. That comes of your ■unfortunately <- ■= th _ manuß?np fc ■he said laying »» "» .. m t write it IT TwKSt^tne matter if you g £_. mv words would ruin you. But ■of yours." t __-_ 0 n me," •at that hour to town, Guety,**?*? * >? W

man to go away, then bent ovor his brother, saying :— "You cannot decide now, you must be calmer. Let me go to tho oflico alono to day as your representative. You arc agitated'ami exhausted; you have gone through too much since yesterday." Sandow gave a mute sign of consent; he felt that he was not in a fit state that day to show his subordinate his usual, calm business ability. But when his brother had already reached the door, he called out suddonly, , .~. , " One thins more—not a word ot this to Frieda. Do'not bring her into'tho field against me, or you will drive mo to despera tion."

" Let your mind be nt rest, I dare not," said Gustav, with marked emphasis. "It would estrange your child's only half-won heart from you perhaps for ever. 11 ood-byo, Frank."

About an hour later Frieda entered her father's study, where he was still pacing restlessly up and down. She started when she saw him, for his face showed tho marks of tho struggle ho had gone through in that hour. He did his utmost to hide his agitation, and to turn off his daughter's questions with a pretence of illness, but she saw the feverish agitation he was in. The young girl was still too much of a stranger to her father to force a confidence from him by entreaties which he did not give her of his own free will, but she saw with secret anxiety the dark shadow which had come over him now, when all should havo been joy and reconciliation. Gustav camo in suddenly with his betrothed on his arm. He seemed to havo just arrived from town, for ho still had his hat and gloves in his hand, but he had hardly been away an hour.

"I bring Jessio with me," he said in his usual gay manner, " and as Frieda is hero wo can hold a family council in your study. You are surprised that I am here so soon, Frank ? I wished to relieve you of all busi ness to-day, but I am obliged to appeal to you for a decision after all. I found a couplo of emigrants at the office who insisted on speaking to you, and as you wero not coming to town, I brought the people out here."

"Yes, Gustav brought them in his own carriago," added Jessie, who had been somewhat annoyed at seeing hor lover with theso rough peasants drive up in the Clifford's elegant equipage. "Thoy are Germans, countrymen from our far-off narrow home," interrupted Gustav, quickly. "They would probably not have found tho way to the villa alone, so I thought it was best to bring them."

"It was quite unnecessary," said San dow, both restlessly and unwillingly, for ho dreaded a last decisive attack. " The affair might havo waited till tomorrow. What havo I personally to do with the emigrants ? They can learn everything they want to know at tho office. You have really brought them all out hero?"

"Yes, all except Jenkins & Go's, agent. I left him at the oflico, 110 was here yester day, and wanted to speak to you. I gave him an appointment for this morning at the office, and I camo home directly to get the people out of his wnj', for ho would not havo lot them sco you until ho had thoroughly posted you up, as he expressed it. Yon will receive them? I have promised them an interview with you." Without giving his brother time to reply, ho opened tho door of the next room, and admitted the men who were already wait ing there. Tho two girls wanted to go away when they heard that business was to bo discussed, but Gustav caught Jessio's arm, and whispered to her nnd his niece :

"Stay—you especially, Frieda, I want you." The strangers meanwhile had como in. They were three men, powerful-looking Deasants, with sunburnt faces and hard hands. The eldest, a middle-aged man, looked pretty well off from his appearance and dress. The two others were younger, and looked shabbier. They remained bash fully in the doorway, while thoir leader quietly took somo steps forward into tho room.

"That is my brother," said Gustav, pointing him out. " You may speak quite openly to him. Only he can give you proper advice in these circumstances." "God save you, Mr Sandow !" began the farmer in plain German with a strongly marked provincial accent. "Wo aro glad to find German fellow-countrymon here, with whom we can speak an honest word or two. At your office, whero wo wont to look for you, they wanted to dismiss us, or to keep us out of the way, so that it was lucky your brother came. Ho took us straight away, and was very rude to the agent who would not let us come to you. But ho was right: we have no more confidence in any of the band."

Sandow had risen ; he saw the storm coming, and throw a reproachful look at the brother who had thus entrapped him. But the merchant saw that he must not let a strar.ger perceive the position he was in, and outwardly showed all the calmness of the business-man as he inquired:

" What do you want with me, and what must I advise you on ?"

The countryman looked at his two com panions as if he expected they, too, would come forward and speak ; but ns they re mained silent, and only signed to him to go on, he continued his speech. " We are in an awkward fix, and do not see our way out of it. We were recom mended to Jenkins and Co. before we started from Germany, and their agent re ceived us when we landed in New York. They promised us mountains of gold, and at Mr Jenkins's office they told us this earthly paradise was out West. On our journey here, however, we met two Ger mans who had lived for years in America, and they sang quite another tune. They warned us to take care of ourselves with this Jenkins and his western paradise. Ho was tho worst of swindlers, and had brought misfortune on thousands. We should bo ruined, every man Jack of us, in his forests, and a good many other fine things thoy told us; so we got pulled. The agent, who was trayel. ing in another carriage, was in a rage when wo told him about it; but, as I said before, we don't trust him, an& wish to be more sure before we travel some hundred miles farther West."

Gustay, who stood near his betrothed, listened with apparent calmness. Jessie looked anxious; she did not understand the connection, but suspected that there was something more in it than a mere business afair. Frieda, on the contrary, listened breathlessly to every word, it was so strangely connected with the conversation she had had with her father some weeks be fore. But what had he to do with this emi gration business? "We were taken to your bank, Mr Sandow," continued the farmer, "to sign the contract, and pay for the land. We heard at the hotel that you wore a German, and came from our own neighbourhood. So I went to the others and I told them, ' Boys, we need not bother about it any more. We will go to our fellow-country man and tell him the whole affair. He is a German, and will surely have a conscience, so he will not send his fellow-countrymen to certain ruin.'"

If Sandow had hitherto not fully realised how far he had sinned in this speculation he learnt it now, and the words of the simple peasant burnt into his soul as the bitterest reproaches would not have done. He was on the rack, and the worst was yet to come. Frieda stole to his side. He did not look at her, ho could not at that moment, but he felt her anxious, questioning look, and how the hand trembled which clasped his. "Now, you two come and talk," said the farmer turning half angrily to his com panions who had left him m tne lurch in the affair. "You have wives and children too, nnd have ventured your ail on the journey. Yes, Mr Sandow, there aro poor devils amongst us who possess nothing but their arms, and have to pay their way with their work. Some of us are better off, and we think one should help another in the new colony. There are about eighty of us, and a dozen or so c-f'chiidrei; cmonest the number, and | it would go ill with the little ones if our new homo were as bad as all that comes to. So you decide for us, sir. If you tell us to go, then in God's name we will travel on to-morrow morning, and all will go well. It must have been the good God Himself that sent us to you, and we thank Him for it with all our hearts." Sandow leant heavily on the table by which he stood. With the whole power of his will he forced himself to repress all external signs of agitation. How fearful the inward struggle must be only Gustav kn&w, and he hastened to fill in the painful pause whiub ensued after these words. "You need not- bo afraid," he said, raising his voice, "You sso my brother has a child himself, an only daughter, »nd knows what the life and health of youj,* little ones must be to you. You may fpjlow his advice unreservedly. Now, Frank, what do you advise our countrymen to do 5" Sandow looked at tbe three men, whose eyes were raised anxiously but trustfully to bis face, then he looked down at his daughter, and suddenly drawing himself up, he said : "Do not go there," The peasants drew back and looked first at each other, and then at the merchant who had given them such unexpected advice. , "But you are a shareholder m the com paoy yourself!" cried one, and the others, added, "Yes, yes, you are one of. them yourself."

" I was deceived as to the circumstances myself," explained Sandow. " I have only just received further details as to these lands, in which T am in fact a shareholder, but I know that they arc not suited for colonisation. I will therefore draw up no contract with you, because I intend to resign my duties, and withdraw from the whole affair."

Tito Germans had no suspicion what a sacrifice their compatriot was making for them, or at what a high prico their salva tion was bought. They looked troubled and perplexed, and their leader said with a disturbed countenance :

" That is a queer stcry. Wo have mado this long journey and paid for it, and here we are fast in America. We cannot go back, and we must not go forward, and we seem to bo cheated and Fold in a strange land. Mr Sandow, you must give us advice. You mean well by us I can see, or else you would not, fly in laco of your own interest in this way. Toll us what wo must do." A deep troubled sigh rose from the merchant's breast. Be was to be spared nothing, not even this last blow, but ho had gone too far already, and must carry out what he had begun. "Goto the German Consul in our town here," he replied, "and tell him the wholo affair. I believe a German company has been formed in New York for colonising the West, which is under the patronage of the consulate. This property does not lie very far from the original end of your journey ; tho way there will bo almost tho samo. Other particulars you can learn from tho Consul; you can trust him unreservedly, and he will do his utmost for you."

The farmer's brow cleared, and his com panions, too, looked relieved. " Thank Cod, that is tho way out of it!" he said with n ileop breath of roliof. "Wo will start directly, as we have no time to lose. And we are much obliged to you, sir, and to that young gontlemati there. It is very honest of you to withdraw from that swindle, as wo sco it must bo one, even though you will not say so. May God reward you for what you have done for us, and for our wives and children." He held out his hand to tho merchant, who took it mechanically, and the few short words of farewell he said to tho people sounded equally mechanical. Gustav, on the contrary, shook them all threo energetically by tho hand, and called loudly for a ser vant, whom he ordered to take the strangers to the German Consulate, and only leave them when they reached the door.

When they wero gone, Sandow threw himself into a seat; the agitation ho had so struggled to suppress now would havo way, and lie almost broke down.

"Father, for Heaven's sako what is tho matter with you ?" cried Frieda, embracing him anxiously, but now Gustav camo for ward, bis wholo faco glowing with triumph. "Let him alone, Frieda, it will soon be ovor. You can be proud of your father with a gooil right now. Frank, from the moment our countrymen stood here before you, I knew you would warn them against that speculation of your.t; but that you would have recommended the rival com pany, who wroto such a violent article against Jenkins & Co. in tho New York ' Rovolver' recently, I did not believe, and I must shake hands with you for it."

But Sandow shrunk back, and pressed his daughter to hi. breast. The expression on his face was still very bitter, as ho said:

"You do not know what Gustav, too, has clone, my child, and what this hour may cost your father. From this timo forth Jenkins will bo my irreconcileable enemy, and will never rest in his attacks on mo. I linvo put myself too much in his power." "Throw the wholo thing overboard and como with us to Germany," exclaimod Gustav. " Why should you let yourself be bothered and persecuted by thoso respect able New Yorkers, when you can come in pence and be happy there '! When Jessio is married tho name of Clifford will disap pear, why not tho firm too? You will lose by withdrawing from tho wholo affair, it is true, but for Gorman society you will still be rich enough, and outlets for your energies will not bo wanting."

'' What, nn oiler fo make to mo ?" returned Sandow discontentedly.

"Exactly tho same you made when you sent for mo here. I believe wo had better decide tho thing at onco Look how Frieda's faco lights up at tho thought of home. Of courso, she will never again leave her lather's side, wherever he may chooso to livo, but if you stay hero you may bo sure she will somo day die of home sickness."

Gustav had cleverly touched the right spring. Sandow, quite shocked, looked at his daughter, whose eyes had sparkled when a return home was mentioned, and whose head now sunk in resignation.

" Como, Jessie," said Gustav offering her his arm. "We will leave thoso two alone. I must explain it all to you thoroughly, for I sco you only half understand, besides which 1 again feel a pressing necessity to be admired by you onco more. I enjeyed it so very much yesterday."

lie drew her away, and father and daughter were alone. Frieda needed no such explanation as Jessie did. Sho had guessed the connection of it all, and nestling closer to her father, she said tenderly :

" I knew it all when we wero both down by the sea; you could never send anyone to certain misery."

Sandow looked long and thoughtfully into the dark eyes that wore now shining up at him full of tender admiration. For the first time ho could return their gazo with out fear of shame or reproach, and he felt it like some saving power. " No, my child," he said in a low voice, "I could not do it; and what comes noxt wo must bear as we can.''

Meanwhile Gustav and Jessie were walk ing up and down the garden, arm-in-arm, and at first their conversation was very grave. He told her everything, excusing his brother as far as possible, by making him the victim of a deception', whioh had only just been rs/ealedto him. When he had finished Jessie exclaimed enthusias tically, "Gustav, if my fortune, too, is in volved in this affair, it stands to reason that we place it unreservedly at your brother's disposal for as long as he requiros it." " Your fortune is altogether out of the fame," explained Gustav. "Whatever 'rank may have been ns a speculator, he was a most conscientious guardian. He has fully respected the clauses in your father's will. You are and will be an heiress, Jessie ; unfortunately I cannot help that, but nevertheless I am quite resolved to marry you in spite of that misfortune, and in four weeks too."

" Quite impossible," protested Jessie. "Therearc far too many preparations and arrangements to be made. You must your self see the time is too short."

"I sco nothing of tho sort," declared Gustav. "My brother will sco after the business, and tho rest can be dono in time. Everything is dono by steam in this America of yours—speculating, growing rich, living and dying too. Ido not object to tho ways of the land in this instance, as they can be applied to marrying as well, and I, as your future tyrant, insist that you shall be my wife in four weeks."

Jessie did not seom to rebel very energetically against this tytanny, and after some demur she agreed, smiling and blushing whilo her lover said : "I can at least stand by my brother when the first of tho storm breaks, and we shall not havo long to wait for that. They will find out all about it at the Consulate, and by this evening the whole town will know it. The amiable agent, the admirer of my journalistic ability, will first tear his hair, and then send telegram upon tele gram to New York. I wish I could see Jenkins and Co. breathing out fire and flame, and devoting me to the lowest depths of hell. God willing, I hope to give them that pleasure oftener when my articles ap pear. They shall learn to know the fun they wish to buy."

" But do you really think my guardian can free himself from all his liabilities?" asked Jessie.

"He must at any cost! Under present circumstances he has no choice left, and he is merchant enough to save as much as is possible. Jenkins will certainly lead him a life of it—and so much the belter. He will be obliged then )tp' think of Germany, and we shall win him back again. He cannot and dare not fall back into his old specula tive fever, and the temptations are too great here : he might take to it again. The ice is broken now, and Frieda has something so brisk and fresh in her that we cau trust the rest to her. I give you my word, she will bring her father home again before many years'are gono." They had now reached the shore, and stood by the beach where Frieda had sat that evening. Before them lay the sunlit sea. Gustav pointed to it as he placed his other arm round his future bride,

" There lies my fatherland, Jessie. In a few weeks it will be yours too, and you will learn to love it, for it was your mother's home. What my brother said this morning may be true—that the intellectual field here offers wider and freer scope than ours, that men rise more rapidly, and win better results with the pen. With us, now, we have to hold our banners aloft in a hot con flict, and devote the best powers of our lives to it. But I will do it joyfully and with my whole heart, 'and ask for no other reward than that, Jessie, my beloved wife, shall be content with her " Egotist."

THE END,

THE AUSTRALIAN CRICKETERS IN ENGLAND.

(Fi'Mt Onn London Correspondent),

After their victory at Gravesend the Aus tralians journeyed to Nottingham, where they played against a North of England eleven. The match took place on the Trent Btidgo Ground on September Ist, 2nd, and 3rd. The weather was not at all promising, and consequently the attendance was not very largo. The wicket, in conse quence of recent rains, played very dead, and everything was in favour of the bowlers.

For once, luck deserted the Australians, and they lost the toss. The North of England commenced batting with Shrews bury and Scotton to the bowling of Spofforth and Palmer. The start was a particularly disastrous one. With the score at 10, Shrewsbury pulled a ball of Spofforth's into his wicket. Barnes then joined Scotton, and at 21 Boylo went to bowl in place of Palmer. The change at once did good, for with 3 runs addod, Scotton was caught nt tho wicket for 17. Still more disasters were in store, for at 32 Barnes was bowled; at 35, Gun was out (1.b.w.) to Spofforth, and at 42, Bates was caught by Bonnor at slip. 42-5—7. Flowers now joined Barlow, and matters improved somewhat; both batsmen played steadily, and thanks to Flowers being missed twice, carried the score to 71 bofore they were parted, the latter being caught at long-oil' for a serviceable 20. After this the innings did not last long. Attevvell was bowled for 3, Sltorwin caught at mid-on for 1, then Sclby hit his wicket, and shortly after Pcato was caught at slip, and tho innings closed for 111 (Harlow not out, 10). Tho Australians then commenced batting, and their start was oven moro sonsntional than thoir opponents'. Five of their best wickets went down for 35. Bannorntan was caught slip for 0, and McDonnell, who put on 23 by fast hitting, was bowled by Peato; Murdoch mado 1, Scott 7, while Midwinter was bowled first ball by Attowell. Then a change came over the game. Bonnor and Giffen woro together, and both hit the bowling furiously, scoring 28 runs off threo ovors of Flowers. At last, with tho score nt 89, Bonnor was bowled by Attowoll for a brilliant 38, including ono 0 (drive out of the ground), six 4's, a threo, two 2's, and a singlo. Barlow then went on bowl int*, and took two wickets immediately, bowling Giffen, and making Spofforth put an easy catch into Solby's hands. Rain then came down heavily, and play was abandoned for the day, the score standing at 115 for 8 wickets.

Next morning Barlow got rid of Black man and Boyle in one over, and the innings closed for 100, only 9 runs ahead of their opponents' total. In tho North of England second innings tlte start was again exceedingly feeble, five of the best wickets going down for 53. Scotton and Shrewsbury were disposed of of 4 and 1 respectively, whilo Barnes and Gunn woro out for 17 nnd 11. Then Barlow and Floworsgot together, and com pletely changed tho aspect of the game. At first playing H'ith oxtromo caro, thoy gradually obtained a comploto mastery ovor tho bowling, and, hitting all bowlers alike, soon raised 200. At last, with the score at 211, Flowers was caught at slip, and tho long partnership enmo to an end. The pair had put on 158 runs since the fall of tho fifth—a really magnificent performance, when we consider the stato of the wicket. Of those Flowers had mado 90, and had only given ono chanco when his scoro was 50. Blackham might have stumped him easily, but, thinking that tho bull would hit the wicket, ho let it go. The remaining bats men did not do much, Selby, Attewell, and Sherwin making 2, !), 7 respectively. When Peate camo in tho score was 252 for !) wickets. Threo runs were added, nnd then Harlow was bowled by Bannerman for 101. This scoro included livo fours, ton threes, and fifteen twos ; ho was at the wickets four hours and twenty-five minutes, and did not give the ghost of a chance. Wanting 217 to win, the Australians com menced thoir second innings next morning with Bannerman and McDonnell to the bowling of Barlow and Attewell. For the fourth timo in the gamo tho first batsmen wero disposed of for a ridiculously small total. With tho score at 10, McDonnell plnyod a ball on his wicket. Murdoch was bowled by Barlow for I!, and Bannerman and Scott wero caught directly after for -1 each. Giffen was stumped for G, and di rectly after Bonnor was caught at long-off for a duck's e;zg. Six wickets woro down for 23 when '.Midwinter joined Blackham and tho only stand of tho innings was made. Tho pair carried tho total to 55 when Mid winter was caught at point for 17. Only 2 runs wero added when Blackham was finoly caught at third-man by Gunn for 15, and S wickets were down. Spofforth made 7, Palmer S, and the innings closed for 7(i only ; the North of England thus winning by 170 runs. This victory is mainly duo to tho efforts of Barlow, who made 10, not out, and 101, and took 10 wickets for 18 runs.

Full Scoro. north of england, Ist Innings. Shrewsbury, b Spofforth 2 Scotton, c lllacklium, b Boylo 17 Barnes, b Sdo ll'orth 10 Gunn, lbw, b Spofforth 2 Harlow, not out 10 Hates, c Bonnor, b lioyle 7 Flowers, c McDonnell, b Hoylc 2ii Attevvell, b Spofforth 3 Sherwin, c Murdoch, b Boylo 1 Sclby, hit wicket, b Boyle 2 Peate, c Murdoch, b Spofforth Ii Extras 5 Total fll 2nd innings. Shrewsbury, c and b Boylo _■ .. .. 1 Scotton, b lloylo — 4 Barnes.o Scott, bSpofforth 17 Gunn, b Boylo 11 Barlow, b Bannerman ..101 Biites.cPalmer.bSpofforlh 4 Flowers, cSpofforth, b Bonnor .. ._ ..90 Attowell, c Bannerman, b Bonnor .. .. D Sherwin. c Blackham, bllanncrinan .. .. 7 Selby,cßlaokham,bl!onnor ... ..2 Peate, notottt 0 Kxtras 9 Total 255 AUSTRALIANS.-FIRST INNINGS. McDonnell, b Pcato .. .. 23 Bannerman, c Peato b Attowell .. .. 0 Murdoch, c Selby b Attewell 1 Scott, lbw b Attewell .. .. - .. 1 Giffen. b Barlow .. _. .. ~. ..20 Midwinter, b Attewell 0 Bonner, b Attowell .*. .. 38 Blackham, b Barlow 3 Spofforth, o Selby b Barlow 0 Palmer, not out «. 1 Boyle, b Barlow ..4 Extras.. .......... 3 Total 100 Aitstkai.ians.—Second Inninos. McDonnell, b Attewoll -. 5 Bannerman. o Peato, b Attowell .. .. 4 Murdoch, b Barlow 3 Scott, c Shrewsbury, b Barlow 4 Giffen, st. Sherwin, b Attowell 6 Midwinter, c Bates, b Attewell 17 Bonnor, c Barnes, b Barlow 0' Blackham, cGunn. b Barlow 15 Spofforth, b Barlow 7 Palmer, c Gunn, b Barlow . 8 Boyle (not out) 3 Extras 4 Total - "6 BOWLING ANALYSIS. North op Enqi.and.—First Inninos. Overs. Md'ns. Runs. W'k'ts. Spofforlh.. .. 35.1 18 -10 5 Palmer .. .. A 4 14 0 Boyle .. .. 2C 12 32 5 Skcond Innings. Boylo .. .. 31 15 53 3 Spofforth .. .. 32 12 58 2 Palmer .... 15 1 21 0 Giffen .. ■■ » 7 31 0 Midwinter ..10 5 IS 0 Scott .. .. 8 0 13 0 Bonnor ....}» 7 rf{ g Bannerman ..17 SI lo i Australians-First Innings. Overs. M'd'nsi. Runs. W'k'ts. Peato .... 15 3 15 1 i.tewell.: •• 23 13 18 5 Flowers .... 3 0 28 0 Barlow .... o 3 G 4 Second Inninos. Attewell .. .. .28 17 30 4 Barlow .. .. 27*3 13 12 6

On September 4th, sth, and 6th, the Australians met a powerful team of the I. Zingari at Scarborough. The match was I the" second in the annual Scarborough i Cricket Festival, and as the weather waß \ tolerably fine, there was a large attendance of spectators. Tho Zingari won the toss, and commenced to bat on a slow wicket, with Whitfield and Patterson against the bowling of Spofforth and Boyle. Tho start was not a particularly good one. At 8 Whitfield was bowled by Spofforth for 1 ; Lord Harris came in, but at 25 lost Patter son, who was also bowled by Spofforth. A, G, Steel joined Lord Harris, and there was some very brilliant hitting, the latter scoring 12 off one over of Boyle's,—a 6, a2, and a4. One run later, however, Lord Harris was bowled by Spofforth for a lively 24—(43-3-24). Lyttleton and Steel batted steadily, but at 68 tho latter was caught in the long field, and a few runs later a bailer from Spofforth dismissed G. B. Studd. With tho score at 76 for 5 wickets, Forbes became Lyttleton's partner, and both played with great judgment. The hundred soon went up, but 3 runs later Lyttleton was finely caught at long-on by McDonnell—(lo3-6-37). Hadow now joined Forbes, and a long stand ensued. The scoring was very rapid, and the total was raised to 171 when Hadow was bowled by Bonnor for a very useful 25. Paravicini was soon got rid of, but Cottrell stayed

while Forbes hit; with tne total at 221, Cottrell was bowled by Midwinter, and 8 runs later Forbes was stumped, and the innings closed for 229. Forbes had made 80 in splendid style, and was in while 151 runs were scored, the last 129 of which had been put on in an hour and a quarter. McDonnell and Bannerman commenced the colonists' innings, and just before play ceased for the day Steel bowled Banner mann for 10. Next morning for somo time the batting was very steady; but. Cottrell met with great success, McDonnell being caught off him at long, and Scott and Murdoch both succumbing to his bowling, so that four wickets were down for 02. Bonnor and Gifi'en, however, improved the play considerably, and increased the total to 93 before Bonnor was caught by Steel. Blackham followed, but at 103 a good ball from Steel caused his dismissal (Ii wickets for 103). Midwinter, who followed, soon began to hit, but at 135 lost Giffer, who was smartly caught at short mid-on ; with one run added Palmer was well caught behind the bowler, and then Spofforth joined Mid v, inter, and completely changed the char acter of the play. Both batted remarkably well, and put on no less than 91 runs before Spofforth was caught at deep mid-ofl' for a fine innings of 49. Boyle only scored two, and tho innings closed for 233—Midwinter, not out, 49.

In a minority of 4, the Zingari commenced their second innings with Lyttleton and Patterson to tho bowling of Spsfforth and Midwinter. The start was very unluckj. With the score nt 3 Lyttleton ran himself out, and at 18 Lord Harris was splendidly caught at square-leg by Scott, Patterson and Steel mado a short stand ; but just be fore stumps were drawn, Steel wub caught at mid-on for 20, and threo wickets were down for 41. Next day Whitfield was bowled at 53, and with ton runs added Forbes was out in the same way. With live wickets down for 63, things looked bad for tho Zingari, but on Studd joining Patterson mattors improved somewhat, and tho scoro was carried to 95 before the latter was bowled by Fatttrson. After this tho Zingari wore soon got rid of. At 108 Hadow was caught at the wicket and five runs later Studd and Oottrell were bowled by successive balls from Spofforth. Christophersou and Para vacini then batted pluckily and put on 27 runs for tho last wicket. At 140, howover, Christophcrson was well caught at long-on, and the innings closed,

Wanting 137 to win, the Australians sent in Bannerman and McDonnell, and the lattor immediately commencod hitting, and twice drove Steel out of the ground for 0, At 62 he lost Bannerman, who was caught at tho wicket for 10. Murdoch came in, and the hitting became faster than ever. The scoro rapidly rose to 110, at which figuro McDonnell was caught at mid-off for a brilliant 07. Scott came in and the vuns woro soon hit off, the Australians thus winning by 7 wickets. Spofforth's bowling was again splendid, his figures being 14 wickets for 185 runs, while Steel and Cottrell both bowled well for the Zingari. In tho first innings of tho Australians, Steel took 5 wickots for "C, and Cottrell 5 for 72.

I. ZINOARI-FinsT Inninos. Whitfield, b Spofforth „ 1 Pattorson. b Spofl'orth — 10 Lord Harris, b .Spofforth „ 21 A. G. Steel, c McDonnell, b Spofforth .. |5 Lyttleton. o MoDonncll, b Spofl'orth .. ..37 G. B. Studtl.b Spofforth 3 Forbes, st Blackham, b Midwinter |.. ..80 Iludow, b Bonnor 25 Paravicini, b Spofforth 3 Cottrell, b Midwinter 15 Christophcrson, not out 0 Extras 1C Total - - 229 2nd Inninos. Whitfield, b Spofrerth .. .. „ .. fi Patterson, b Palmer.. .. _ .. _ 2(1 Lord Harris, c Scott, b Spofforth .. .. it A. G. Steel, 0 Boylo, b Midwinter ~ .. 20 Lyttleton. run out 1 1 G. H. Studd. b Spofforth 2s Forbes, b Spofforth 10 | Iludow, c Blackham, b Spofforth .. .. 7 Paravicini, not out 15 I Cottrell, b Spofforth 0 Cnristophorson, c Scott, h Spofforth .. ..II Kxtras 10 Total ............ 110 AUSTRALIANS, Ist Inninos. McDonnell, o Pattorson, b Cottrell .. .. 20 Bannerman, b Steel 10 Murdoch, b Cottrell.. .. _ .. .. M Scott, b Cottrell .. .. 7 Giffen, c Christophcrson, b Cottrell .. .. 31 Honnor, c and b Steel 21 Blackham, b Steel 8 Midwinter, not out 19 Palmer, o Forbes, b Steel 1 Spofforth. c Whitfield b Steel 19 Boyle, c Steel, b Cottroll 2 Extras b) Total 2.33 2nd Inninos. McDonnell, c Chrißtopherson, b Steel .. 07 Itannerman, c Lyttelton, b Forbe. .. .. 10 Murdoch, not out 30 Scott, not out 15 Kxtius H Total .. ._. _- 139 BOWLING ANALYSIS. I. Zinoahi.—Fiust Innings. Overs. Md'ns. Runs. W'k'ts. Spofforlh .. .. 57 22 111 7 Boylo .. .. 30 U 47 0, Palmer .... 11 4 17 0 Midwinter ..6 2 .1 10 2 Giffen .... 3 0 13 0 Bonnor .... 1 1 12 I Skcond Inninos. Spofforth .. .. 47.2 22 71 7 Midwinter ..33 21 29 1 Giffen .... 1 1 0 0 Palnior .... 15 1 30 1 A ustrai-ians.—First Inninos. Cottroll .. .. 41 20 72 5 Forbes .... 3 J 17 28 0 Christopherson.. 9 3 22 0 Steel .. ..37 13 7b ■> Lyttelton ..3 0 8 0 Hadow .... 3 1 12 0 Second Innings. Steel .. 13 4 35 1 Cottroll .... 16 4 50 0 Christopherson 6 3 9 0 Forbes .... 6 4 13 1 Whitfield ..5 1 17 0 Lytteiton ..2 0 4 0

OUR AMERICAN LETTER.

The Presidential Election.

The Presidential canvas this year is tho quietest one I over knew, and yet we wero led to believe at its opening that on the side of the Republicans, in any case, wo were going to havo an aggressive campaign. Tho only aggressiveness we have seen has been of such a peculiar sort that wo trust never to see the liko again. Perhaps " Puck " may claim the credit of getting off the first gun, when that paper drew Blame as the "tatooed man," covered with the stains of various allegod jobs and abuses he is said to be guilty of. Mr Blaincs's record is by no means of a character that will enablo him to pass the tyler at the Lodge of Perfection in tho upper spheres, and " Puck " laid on the marks pretty thick, The advocate of Blaino having little or no public acts to allege against Cleveland, started a story about his private life, alleging that he was mor ally unfit to sit in the Presidential chair, and published a story of his having seduced a girl at Buffalo. This was a new depar ture in politics, and what was moro, it was a mistake, a mistake quickly taken advant age of too. Mr Cleveland's friends asked that gentleman what they must say in reply, and he then gave utter ance to what promises to be a political watchword: " Tell the truth," said Mr Cleveland. The truth appears to be just this : Some years ago Mr Cleveland became intimate with a woman, named Maria Halpin, whose virtue was not intact. Sho was not, however notorious, but was pretty. Sho had two children, and sub sequently, after making Mr Cleveland's acquaintance, gave birth to a third, the paternity of which Mr Cleveland accepted. After this she took to drinking, and, in spite of remonstrances, kept it up, until Mr Cleveland felt compelled to break with her. He asked an old and highly respected lawyer of Buffalo to nego tiate the separation. The child was sent to the Protestant Orphan Asylum, and tho other was sent with a pension to Niagara. That is the thing in brief. The truth was told to the world, and that spherical body will sit, or has sat, in judgment on it. So far as can be seen, the story will not hurt Cleveland much, for it is felt by the voting population that such a test would have prevented many American and English statesmen from taking office. If this be true (and the " Pall Mall Gazette" says it is), we have need to prate of our vir tue, doubtless, as we so love to do in public associations whose object is the repression of vice in one of its various forms. But this chillenge of warfare with new weapons was not rejected by the Democrats, and the " Indiunopolis Sentinel" soon came out with a story as to Mr Blame's having seduced hie present wife, and being forced to marry her at the point of a pistol. It was now Blame's friends' turn to ask him what they shoulddo. He replied, "Sue the journal for libel," which has accordingly been done. The "Sentinel," in its answer, filed in the United States Court on September 4th, admits writing and publishing the article complained of on August 8, 1884, but denies that it was false in any particu lar. It sets forth that Blame was married on or about March 25, 1851; that prior to that time and during his courtship he seduced the lady j that he refused to make

reparation for. the wrong done till com pelled by threats to do so, when he married her; that in June following his wife had a son, which lived two or three years, nnd was acknowledged by Blame to be his son; that at tho head of tho child's gravo a tombstone was placed, bearing an inscription with its name and stating it to have been "Born Juno IS, 1851," and that in a book called " The Life of James G. Blame," published by a linn in Augusta Maine in ISSI, there is a state ment that tho lady referred to becamo his wifo in March, ISSI, at Pittsburg, Pennsyl vania. So tho matter now rests. Public opinion on both sides has very strongly con demned this indecent style of warfare, and it is highly probable we shall have seen the last of it when tho present campaign is concluded. The issues between the parties are about nil, except that tho Democratic party, of which Mr Cleveland is the representative, leans towards free trade, or a "reform of the tariff," while the Republican party espouses protection. It also promises that it will carry out a firm policy towards Great Britain in regard to that country arresting ' Irishmen or Irish-Americans, and Blame is put prominetly on the popular cartoons as the man to "twist the tail of the British lion." Still, I venture, in spite of these pro testations, that, if elected, .Mr Blame will coo as gently as the woodland clove to the said lion, and will not hurt it moro than its constitution can bear with tolerable even tem per; and thisremindsme of howshortsighted some editors enn be. When tho nomina tions were made, almost the whole British press openly expressed their preference for Cleveland and his party, because first, they favoured a free trade policy ; and secondly, because of the hostile sentiments of Blame ami the Republican party. If anything in the world could tend to defeat the man and party of thoir choice, such an expres sion copied into the papers here was the thing to do it. It is known well that the party that captures New York stands a lino chance to capture the Presidency, and both parties arc therefore; straining every nerve to consummate that object. New York city is said to bo " the capital of Ireland," from the number of Irishmen thero. In fact, the Irish vote may be said to be near, if not all out, the vote of New York. It sounds to sense, then, that the Irish are going to be strongly tempted to vote for the man who is going to be most hostile to England, and the man whom the Eng lish dislike most, and this man the British press have very shortsightedly announced to be James G. Blame, the can didate of the Republican party. Another thing, as the English desire free trade, and have been equally frank in saying so, the Irish have a like temptation to vote for protection simply because they think it will injure England and bo distasteful to the Eng lish. The Irish papers hero of course have pointed out these things to Irishmen, and if the Democratic party lose New York—for heretofore the Irish have been considered safe democrats—they can with gtcat reason lay it to tho charge of the British press. Tho true policy of English news paper., was to havo kept silenco and waited till tho election was over before expressing themselves. Will the editors of the London nowspapcrs never learn that their opinion, or wishes, havo no favourable weight here? Tho Unitod States is too big to care for what thoy liko or dislike, in co far as following their advice goes. I can safely say what I have said, because before this letter or the sentiments expressed therein can reach here the election will be over, but when the Star reaches Eng land, the English newspapers may get an idea from it they can make a note of. and profit by in tho future. I have often wondered at this tendency on the part of tho newspapers of one nation to givo advice to anothor nation. It is very com mon, but I never could sco any good in it. Tho "New York Herald" is a great sinner in this respect, but I never read an editorial of this sort in it, but I havo a hope that the British people will act the very opposite to what the "Herald" advises, because I think it is none of tho " Herald's" business. Now, what would you—what would the people of New Zealand who read the Star—think if I wero to begin to discuss the policy of the Stotit-Yogel Cabinet and give advice on it ? Why, of course, they would think I was presuming on my position, and feel like telling me to mind my own business. Yet lam greatly interested in New Zealand. I feel great interest, and am somo littlo anxious as to the policy pursued, and then I fool as if I wero akin to tho people there, in asmuch as I was born in England, and may at some time stand on Now Zealand shores as ono " como to stay." Still, till I do make up my mind to do so, I shall en deavour to refrain entirely from advising tho Now Zcalanders to do so and so, be causo I think to do so would be impertinent and out of placo. If this bo so in my caso, is it not equally weighty on the part of newspapers in foreign countries? Again, circumstances alter cases. In England I was a firm believer in free trade. Hero I ulso believe in free trade, because I believe the manufact iters hero havo been protected long enough to give them a fair start. But if 1 were in New Zealand—from what infor mation I have of it—l believe I should be a protectionist,until such times as tho manu facturing interests of Mew Zealand had got a start also. New Zealand needs manu factories, but how can those manufac tories be started if English manufacturers can undersell the New Zealanders in their own markets? On principle I dislike pro tection much:—it breeds many vices, and generally, I beliove, it is oppressive on tho workers, the artisaus, and farmers. But New Zealand and Australia are unique in tho fact of being a long distance from "the old country," an clement that plays a most important part in minufacturing. Human nature is selfish,* and the idea that " self protection is the first law of naturo" is so firmly imbedded in us all that I guess it will never bo eradicated. Politics is after all self-interest, and a man miy be a Liberal in England, but a very con sistent Conservative in New Zealand. For instanco, take the question of federa tion—a question coming to the front now at Home. Years ago I wrote an editorial for an English paper advocating such a scheme to settle the Irish difficulty. I ad vocated local parliaments for every division of the British Empire, to deal with local politics, with an Imperial Parliament sitting in London to deal with the policy of the Empire, However, the ownership of the paper thought the idea tooprematuroandad vancod,anditwasnoverprintcd;butlam con vinced such a settlement would have satisfied Ireland and put overy part of tho Empire in good humour. Now Zealand, tho Aus tralian colonies, Canada, Ireland, Scot land, &c., lee., all ought to sond members of Parliament to an Imperial House in London, and have a voico in Imperial mattei-3 and policy. Every . stato in the Amorican Union is a kingdom of itself, but they have a "Central" Government at Washington to watch interests of all as "the United States." Why should not Now Zealand, Victoria, New South Wales, &c, Canada, Scotland, tho Cape, India, Ireland and England, all in liko manner be individual states, comprising (the United States of) Greaterßritain? And in this scheme of federation, returning to my question of changing politic*, I was in England a Liberal, but if I were to reside in Now Zealand I believe I should be a Conservative, and why? Simply because the Conservative policy seems to care for moro and tako moro notice of the colonies. When a Conservative Government is in power an Englishman is respected and defended all over tho world, but when a Liberal Government is at the helm at St. Stephen's, is it so ? On federation, too, the Conservatives appear to bo going for it heart and soul, while tho Liberals are giving it the cold shoulder, but are going in heart and soul for an enlargement of the franchise and the abolition of the veto power of the Lords. If the scheme I sketched were in force, wo should have tho Imperial Government always acting on the Conservative policy of defending an Englishman all over the world, while the local Parliament of England could be as Liberal as it pleased : the sequence would bo peace and prosperity at home, with dignity, protection, and respect abroad. Let that home bo where it might be, I want to see the "Union Jack" of Greater Britain ns powerful in the Pacific waters as in the Atlantic or at home; and I believe Federation is the way to this end. Lotus unite till the name of "Britisher" "Englishman," or other Federation name, shall be a name second to none in the world —a name that neither an "Iron Princo," a "Gar," a "President," or any of their subjects dare insult or skoff at. At present I am afraid it is not co. It i 3 a by-word in some parts of the world to call us " Blarsted Britisher," or " Perfidious Englishman," etc., and how long this is to go on depends on our patriotism, and the strength of our unity and fraternity. Free Lance.

The first statue ever erected to a woman in the United States has just been unveiled at New Oceans. It is to Margaret Houghery, wh° de™t6* her -rreat wealth to orphans. She. was a Catholic, but her charities were imparh aUy dUp«nsed by the ministers ofevery creed. _« ot.rwTT PAIBA."— Quick. -_omv..eUc-uve. all annoying ,zi&^

A SLENDER CLUE.

Many a year ago, on a July afternoon, I was sitting in my study, waiting, like many a young avotti, for clients who came not f i\ hen at about 4 o'clock a gentleman was announced by the name of Lavigne._ I was glad to think that I know no one of the name, for being unknown he might be a

client.

A tall, well-dressed man entered, and asked whether he could have half-an-hour's talk with me. I consulted my watch and diary with the true air of a busy man, and thought I could spare time. Would I mind locking the door ? Hardly. Did I remember the Dumont murder? Slightly. Would I listen while he gave an account of it ?

Ten years ago Mons. Dumont, a wealthy banker, married a young widow, with whom two of his friends, Messrs. Le Theuff and Goudin, wero in lovo; nevertheless, thoy remained his friends. All three gambled heavily, and the banker, the rich jnan, won while the others lost.

One night, the 3rd of February, Madame Dumont went to a masked ball, leaving her husband, who was suffering from rheuma tism, at home in bed. On her return she found him lying dead, with his. throat cut. Goudin was arrested and tried.

A strong case of circumstantial evidence was brought against him, the principal wit ness being Mons. Le Theuff.

Mons. Goudin set up an alibi. He proved that ho was at the dance, and asserted that during tho time whin the deed must have been done he was in an alcove, talking to Madame Dumont. This she corroborated.

Tho Court reluctantly acquitted Mons. Goudin, but all Paris believed him guilty, and thought Madame Duraont his accom plice The widow retired to her mother's, and Mons. Goudin, though really innocent, unable to face the public suspicion, went to Australia nnd thero made a fortune.

My visitor had grown so excited that I soon guessed that I had beforo mo Mons. Goudin returned from Australia. Wishing to show my smartness, I stopped him and said, " So you are Mons. G., and have come back from Australia anxious to prove your innocence."

The stranger jumped up and nervously asked how I knew it, and seomed much re lieved to find that it was a guess. He said I was right, and that ho would spare no ex pense to establish his innocence. Since his return he had seen the widow. She had told him Lo Theuff was heavily in debted to her husband, who on the 2nd of February had said that he had quarrelled with him over cards, and was going to make it warm for him next day; that she was sure Lo Theuff had murdered her husband ; she would not, however, tell him the reason for her belief, The murderer had left Paris soon aftor the trial, as he was found out in cheating at cards. He was living quietly at Auray, in South Brittany. "Now," said he, "I know he is a murderer, for he gave false evidence against mo. You must go to Auray, get introduced to him—that I can manage : and even if it cost you two years you must worm out his secret." I objected on tho ground that thero could not be any evidence. Mons. Goudin then said that he had omitted ono thing Madame Dumont and her maid said that the murdered man had round his neck, tho night of his death, a gold chain with a locket containing her portrait, painted by her, and also a lock of her hair. This chain was not found on the body, nor was the locket. She was sure Le Theuff had taken it, and did not believe, for reasons that she would not give, that he had destroyed it.

This seemed to bo very probable, and I felt that if I could find tlte locket in his pos session I should convict the man. Mons. Goudin offered so large a reward that at last I agreed to aid him. I soon arrived at Auray, and took a room at the very com fortable Hotel dv Pavilion.

The day after my arrival I called on Mons. Poncard, a notary ; he was to intro duce me to Mons. Le Theuff. I found him a clever, handsome man and very polite. He told me that my adversary was con sidered queer; he did not go into Auray society—indeed, he shunned it; he lived all alone in the upper half of a house in the Rue Lepcrdit, the shopkeeper of the lower half acting as valet, cook, &c. He was said to be studying the Carnnc stones, and sup pes d to bo wining a book about them. Mon-*. Poncard had met him at Carnac, and had dined several times with him, but found that he pi lyed cards too high and success ful y, at which I smiled, knowing tho cause of his tuccess. He neverwould come inside any one's house but his own.

After a long talk, we walked together to the Rue Lcperdit. lam naturally of a phlegmatic disposition, but for once my heart beat very fast. I had formed the idea of a tall, big man, for Mon?. Goudin was tall and big; but when a deep voice had called out " Entrez" and I saw him, I was staggered.

He was tall, very broad-shouldered, and desp chested, and under his heavy arms, when he moved them, rose mountains of muscle. His face was one which Mons. Le gros would have delighted to paint,; a broad, low forehead, hoavy black brows, and dark eyes sot very far apart; a wide, short, fiat nose ; a long upper lip, with a large, thick mouth, fresh, drink-suggesting lips, and a great square jaw. Not a beauty, you will say ; no, but hideous.} fascinating. lam not imposing, in body at least. My height is but five feet three, and lam not broad. I don't think I could lift 200 pounds even to be made King, or Emperor of France, or President of the Republic, as the case might bo. My face, however, is eminently aristo cratic, so my friends say. High, narrow forehead, and delicate prominent nose, and I have been called not bad looking. What a pretty contrast there must have b6en for Mons. Poncard to observe between the hunter and the hunted 1

Mons. Le Theuff was very pleasant, and talked remarkably; instead of showing, like an ordinary educated Frenchman, a surface knowledge of many things, or, like an Englishman, a solid acquaintance with a few, he exhibited a Frenchman's univer sality and an Englishman's solidity of know ledge, so that each subject seemed to bo his special study. After a long talk we left, but not before I had accepted an invitation to dine with him that evening.

The dinner was delightful, for wine and cooking were good, and his talk was fascin ating, and, indeed, under his influence I my self tallied much better than usual. After dinner we played at cards, at which I lost heavily; what can skill do against unfair piny? During the next week I saw him daily, but learned little. I found that he carried pis tols ; do you suppose I did not? I asked him why he had them. He had nervous fits sometimes, in which he fancied some one was pursuing him, and ho felt relief by feeling them. Was it not ridiculous ? I thought it so ridiculous that a cold stream of perspiration ran down my back. By the end of the week I found the cards were becoming a serious strain, and feared Mons. Goudin would not like the bill. Did he play chess ? Yes. I found that I was somewhat the stronger, so I manoeuvred to just let him win on the whole. Three weeks I spent at Auray, yet I heard nothing, saw nothing, found nothing. Throe delightful weeks, yet in part a period of agony. Alone together we Bailed in his boat down the river. Beautiful is the wide river, rnnning now past the hilly banks covered with trees, through which peeps out many an old chateau, and now by tho fiat shores of the oyster parks, with the lazy cormorants waiting with stolid patience for the incautious movements of their prey ; brightened by the fishing boats with their strange-shaped red sails. Along we used to sai', fdown to Gavr' Innia, the Isle of the Goat, and then out into the lacework of blue sea and ruddy island which form the little Sea of Morbihan, somtimes landing on and sometimes rounding the islands, which equal in number the days of the year. One day in the boat there happened that which ended our sails. I, sitting there, a few feet from a desperate man of ten times my strength, with but an inch of wood between me and death. So powerful grew this mad ness'that the terrible effort I made to com bat it saved me by causing me to faint; and when I came round I found the monster had tended me with the kindness of a woman. Long walks we took together to Quiberon, over the narrow peninsula, with the deep still sea of a heavy blue stretching out heavenward on tho one side, and on the other the sea battling with the red-brown rocks, throwing up clouds of dazzling white spray, through which the sun shone so that they looked like showers of crystals ; walks to Carnac to gaze at tho rows of groat stones, mute, indecipherable records of the buried past, till one evening, when the sun had sunk and the dreary stones cast a thousand weird shadows in the moonlight, the same mad longing to tell him my secret camo over me, and the same dreadful struggle with my madness took place. I began to despair of success; three weeks <rone, nothing new known, and I grown sick of the whole affair, when one day he an nounced that ho was going to Paris on busi ness. The news gave mo life ; something was to be done at last. Hastily I sent off to Mons. Goudin to bid him make ready_in Paris, and then I waited with feverish anxiety till he had gone. Hardly had he left the house before I entered :>.■ -ompanied by a locksmith, and we searched. Was ever a house so searched

before? We took up all the planks, re moved all the tapestry off the walls, tested every stone,- took all the furniture to pieces, shook all tho wine- bottles, and, in fact, so carefully did we search that the locksmith said if he had hidden a pin wo should have found it. All in vaii.

We put everything back in its placo, and I waitjd. Then came a dismal letter; with the aid of the police, Mons. i.c Theuff had been attacked by sham robbers, threo of whom he had nearly killed, had been chloroformed, stripped, and searched, and at the same time all his luggage had been secretly examined at his hotel; nothing was found. Back came Mons. Le Theuff, furious at having been robbed. I now wished to give up the case; the locket seemed destroyed, and therefore all clue was gone, and my health had begun to suffer from the mental struggles I had gone through. Mme. Dumont was sure he would never nave destroyed the locket, but that it must be hidden ; and she begged me to go on. Mons. Goudin told me that Madame had promised to marry him if the murderer was convicted, and not otherwise, and joined his entreaties to hers, and so I gave way.

A few days slowly dragged on, when sud denly I hit on a grand idea : this is how it happened. I was sitting at dinner at my hotel one day, next to an Englishman. Now, I understood English veiy well, I am a very good linguist; he was talking to the lady on the other side of him, of Friederich Anton Mestner. I hardly noticed the con versation until the lady said, " I would not let any one mesmerise me; they might make me tell my secrets." Like a flash of light ning came to me the idea of mesmerising my murderer. So much dttl it startle me that foolishly trying to swallow some red-hot soup |n a mechanical way I choked badly. My Englishman kindly patted me on tho back with blows like an elephant's kick.

To paris I went next day to study mes moriem ; stopped a week, and came back quite satisfied, Though lam week in body lam strong in mind, and I had found no greatdifficulty in mesmerismg esveralyoung men.

In the evening of the day of my return I went round to Mons. Le Theuff 8 ; I felt that I should have to be very careful lest, like the English lady, he should decline to be mesmerised for fear of telling his secret. During dinner I casually mentioned the sub ject, and afterward I told him of part of what I had seen,. stating, however, that none of tho subjects could be got to talk. I turned a delicate hint about his being an interesting subject (a strong enough truth to morally counterbalance the falsehood about the muteness of the mesmerised), then came a cheok—so decided a statement that he would never be mesmerised that I dared not say more. That night, sorely troubled by theappar ent failure of my scheme, I tossed about on my bed in sleeping despair for hours, till at last, exausted I fell asleep and dreamed. In my dream I found myself gazing at the murderer, and gradually losing my senses before the power of his eyes ; and just as I felt all was over, lo I his eyes relaxed their stare, he fell back, and 1 woke. Then came into my mind this strange idea: why not let him try to mesmerise me, and mesmerise him in the attempt. In the morning I wentand talked to Mons. Pone ard. He thought that my idea would not do, for being the subject, Icouldnot use any passes ; and so not only might I fail, but I might succumb to his power, and then i

" And then there would be an inquest," said I. "But I think I see my way. I be lieve he has no knowledge ol the subject, and probably no book on it. Let us print a book with false directions, so that he using it will really be mesmeris cc, and not mesmerizor, and I can use the passes." At once he agreed. In four days I had a clean copy of a treatise on the subject, with a chapter cut out and a false one added.

Mons. Le Theuff had asked me to dinner on the night on which the book came home, and so, warning Mons. Poncard, I set out at a quarter to six with the book under my arm. It was an oppressively hot evening, and a rising summer storm seemed to blow tho heat about in red-hot particles. He was in great spirits, for he had just found his cat, which had been lost for four days—a quiet, timid white cat, which was the only thing he seemed to love or even to care for. A feeling of pity came over my mind as I thought of the poor wretch, re duced to choosing a cat as something which ho dare love.

Never had he seemed so pleasant, never did he talk so brilliantly; so that I, catch ing his spirit, astonished myself with my sallies of wit. Yet a moments pause almost unmanned me, and dish after dish went away, half eaten with relish and half un touched.

After dinner a game of chess, in which I at first got the best, till looking up I saw the white cat sitting on his shoulder, and a horrid thought of the handkerchief that would be bound round his eyes on the scaf fold struck me, and so unnerved me that I played stupidly and lost. The game did what I wanted—it exhausted him to some extent. I now broached the subject, and showed him the book on mesmerism. How my heart beat and the pulses in my temples throbbed while he read 1 The minutes he took seemed hours ; and when he simply said, "Is that all?" the sudden relief almost made me giddy. He consented, after a lit tle, to mesmerise me. I drew my chair close to his, and put a candle beside me. There was little need of light, for the moon streaming through the open window filled the room, but I thought the candle might hurt his eyes. 1 seated myself opposite to him, and put his hands on my knees, and then I held my hands over his eyes as a shade, and turned my eyes on his. Moment by moment passed, and those eyes, usually bo sleepy and small, grew larger and larger, blacker and blacker, and seemed to stand out of his head; and then came through my mind the awful question— Shall I fail?

Weaker and weaker I grew, and an awful vague horror filled me, so that in an agony I would have screamed, but that my tongue stuck in my mouth ; just as hopeless, help less, and motionleßsin body, my very soul seemed being dragged out of me, the thought of my dream-triumph ruehed through my mind and woke me from the deadening lethargy. Stronger Igrew atonce. Taking my hands from his eyes, I moved them glowly over his forehead. Fearful became his grasp on my knees, so that I nearly cried out, and then I became conscious, although I saw nothing, that he was strug gling fearfully against me. For hours the struggle seemed to last, and my bodily ex haustion became terrible, while his hands seemed to eat into my flesh. At last mechanically I put my thumb on the broad space between his eyes. Firmly I pressed, and his hand's grasp grew weaker. Then almost suddenly the life seemed to go out of his eyes, though they remained open; his hands fell to his sides, and his head sank back.

Noiselessly I got up, though I knew no noise would wake him, and, filling a glass with cognac, I drank it. Never was nectar so sweet. The blood rushed through my veins, and I ceased to tremble. I drew bis pistols from his pocket, took out the cart ridges, emptied the powder, put them back, and then replaced the pistols.

I ran over to Mon3. Poncard's, and saying never a word, for I seemed to have lost my tongue, I beckoned to him, and he followed. Up the stairs we crept, and then, leaving him in the anteroom, I walked to the door. My hand was on the handle, when the thought, Suppose he is awake ! struck me. I listened a moment, and could hear nothing but my heart's beat and the distant moan ing wind. Suppose he was feigning sleep more surely to catch me; I felt I had gone too far to draw back.

I cocked my pistol, and then noiselessly turned tho door handle. A long time I stood, scarce daring to breathe, my heart beating so that I fancied its sound would disturb him. Inch by inch I pushed tbe door open, and then suddenly began a soft vibrating noise, now growing louder, now softer. My heart ceased to beat, my hand ceased to tremble, and almost petrified with terror I stood and listened. After a fow moments the mysterious sound struck me as being not human, so with as littlo noise as possible 1 pushed my head into the room.

There he sat, motionless as one dead j his head thrc-wn right back, the cold light of tho moen pouring down on his face, showing its cruel hard lines and his ereat bull throat; and there on hw knees eat tho white cat, purring, unconscious of her master's fote. On tiptoes I advanced, , and as I drew near I saw something which nearly sickened me. Tho light streaming j down on his eyes showed but two dull white masses, for tbe eyeballs had passed into the head. Driving away the cat, which had been .trying to wake him from his deadly sleep, I told him to rise, and the voice that came from my lips was as that of a stranger. He moved not.

Again and again I spoke; still he sat there. like a dead thing, so that the notary, who had crept in, called out, " Mon Dieu ! you I have killed him 1" You can guess how that I alarmed me. I sent Mons. Poncard away, and, shuddering, laid my hands upon his forehead, and then passed them to and fro, flicked my handkerchief in his face, and blew on him. Then the eyeballs slowly descended, and I feared he might have i come too far round, but his vacant looked > reassured me. As the eyeballs came back,

I felt in me a strange feeling of double \con% sciousness, as if I had two minds in line." .11 told him to rise, and slowly tho head carnal forward, the body straightened, the iegs] moved, and he got up. A strango and repulsive idea camo ove*C_|! mc lliafc the feeling of double consciousness I was true; that, in fact, his will he had - passed into mo, and, though his muscles* ■ obeyed his, it was subordinate to mine, for i it was in mo, and so he seemed part of m-M antl I felt as if his guilt was my guilt. This idea so shocked me that I drew back: ■ from the gigantic upright figure, the mon-a ster who seemed part of me> and ran WS_\ Mons. Poncard. Ho said that it wasrjs fancy, and advised me to bathe my head,?-! which I hurriedly did. I came back feel* _ ing calmer, but in nowise relieved or my; I idea. Wm I stood opposite to him, took his cold deoaS hand in mine, and said, "Do you remember' 3 the 3rd of February?" Slowly the jaw-sj opened, and in a harsh, colorless voice came _ the word " Yes." "Tell me what you did*3 that day." In so blundering a way did a__ begin to speak, and iso fiercely did be nj struggle to keep silent (I felt the struggle,^ for it seemed to take place in me), tliatt-'f began to fear I should get no account from I him. &9 "Ask him questions only requiring 'vesißH or 'no,'" said the notary. How his voice I startled mo ! for I had become so absorbed I in my victim as to have forgotten him. jjfl " Did you quarrel with Mons. Dumont?" v "Yes." " About cards ?" "Yes." "You.;-" owed him money?" "Yes." "Was that H all?" "No." ''Didhe find you out in cheating, you 9 scoundrel I" called out tho notary. No I answer. Again and again came the ques- I tion. No answer.

Evory one of my questions had been echoed in my breast, and in me was a fierce flight of my will to make him answer, and his to resist. The notary's question I only seemed to hear with my cars, and there was no mental echo.

Then I put the question, and got the answer " Yes." Slowly I dragged out the horrid tale, till I came to the question, " Did you cut his throat ?" Then came so fierce a struggle in me that I began to fear failure, and faint and exhausted I sat down1 on a chair. After ten minutes' rest, I be-

gan with greater strength, and mado him confess.

We then came to the most important |H questions: " Had he destroyed the locket ':■' ,| No. " Was it in the. house?" No. jt " Where was it ?" It was in vain that lat 1 first tried to get an answer; but after a I rest I put the question, and there came the ij words, as if torn out of his and my heart, ;Ji "Under a stone at Carnac." . 1| Mons. Poncard and I gazed at ona another nearly stupefied. This was the B cause of his interest iii Carnac; this 2 explained his long late walks. In vain did ;•; I try to get from him. an intelligible ex- ,'t planation of the position of the stone: he j fought every question, and was aided,by j the fact that it was a difficult thing to explain. At last, wearied and despairing, I gave up the task. What was to be done ? ,-J Wo could not convict on a confession so strangoly obtained without any corrobora tive evidence, and a confession which would' *_ surely be denied. To dig up the 1,500 I stones would be a herculean task; pro bably it would not be allowed; and even if it wero, he could not be kept under arrest tbe while. For some time we thought in, ;| vain. Suddenly I said, " Let us take him to Carnac with us now, and make him show us the stone." m Straightway we went to his stable, and : | put his black English mare in the dogcart; '-- Mons. Poncard got up behind; I took the v reins, and mado the murderer sit beside me. ! Off we went. What a drive ! through the <:. wild, windy night, now almost light as day, J and now almost pteh dark, as the black ? clouds, fast driven by the howling wind, -'M passed in front of the full moon and then tied on again—drawn by the restless marc, sitting in contact with the unconscious monster whose will was so strangely and horribly tied up in crime. Rapidly we drove till the mare, who seemed frightened by the wind, bolted. On wo rushed, passing Plouharnel, flying our- 1 selves like the wind, till suddenly the ■A notary shrieked through tho storm, "Tho wind will be driving the sea over tho penin sula! we are lost! give me the reinß." ■|1 Almost at once the mare knew her master's - IB hand, and quickly did his great strength stop her; then we turned, back, came to |S| Plouharnel, and turned to the left down the ';! road to Carnac. Three parts of the way had we gone when he pulled up and got down. Silently we followed. Ho fastened up the mare and turned to the left. His mind seemed to have changed, and instead 1 of opposing me I felt that he had a wild desire, stronger than my own, to see the :: locket.

Over the glorious red heath he strode, so ' f fast that we had to half run to keep up J with him, crushing the beautiful blue gent- '\ lans with which the red heather makes the "M glorious carpet of the moor; neither to J right nor left, nor up nor down, did he*f|fl look, yet he avoided the stones and holes ; i) over the wall of the wild farm three pa.ts?«§; of a mile from Carnac church he leaped, nl- §_ f ways looking on, as if drawn to his doom ■'§ by some invisible rope. .1 At the end of some minutes we came to a j solitary dolmen—three large stones stand- _\ ing as if upside down, and supporting a fourth. Here he stopped suddenly, and I felt ' m that his desire to see the locket was gone. -I -'% stcoped down, entered, and turned my lamp light on the ground No sign of earth dis- __\ turbance. Then I gazed on him, and bade him find the locket. He pushed me aside}', crept in, put his right hand against one side 1 of the roofstone and pushed it slowly up, j then stretched his left hand across in front jj of his face, felt in a hole of the supporting ___ stone, took out something, and dropped the j ! roof. jj Haifa minute he-crouched there before __ 1 my excitement would let me call him oot.'^B Slowly ho, came, and there, as I turned the __\ light on his hand, I saw the' locket! Then f came a toad idea to me to wake him and I show him his direction. " Awake, monster," -rf I cried, "and see your fate!" Then iWm flashed the light in his face. Slowly a ,'_\ great weight seemed lifted "off my 'heart, ''b'Wt and the life came back to his eyes. For a,, 4 moment he was dazed, then his eyes fell on I the locket; with a yell he leapt forward, | knocked me yards away, drew his pistols! W_\ and fired at each of us. The false cart- 'j ridgessaved us. Seeing us unwounded Will turned and fled; after hM we ran aa §11 fast as we could. Fast though we ran, be gained easily, so we stopped and fired, r>*j but in vain. Apparently accustomed to leavo his dogcart in tho placo in which wo had left it, he ranstraight toward the spot: he had gained .100 yards and seemed to have escaped, when suddenly he fell, and a fearful oath rang out. Fearing some trick, we reloaded our pis- ,": tols and ran up. Thero ho lay screaming ' and cursing, hisariklebroken; hehadcaught his foot in a hole, aiid had fallen heavily, ' Threatening him with our pistols, we hand- . cuffed him and took the locket away. Star- '.'■' tied by the pistol shots, a peasant had como from the neighbouring farm, and' with his " "j aid we carried him back to the dogcart and I drove into thetown. '■ The excitement caused was'tremendous, '*! so great that even Paris for somedays talked " of nothing else, and I found myself famous. ' The trial was attended by every oho of fash- ___ j ion, and, in accordance with the public ' interest rather than its difficulty, lasted several days. The last day was certainly ''. '■ exciting. Le Theuff, who had been fight- i ing the evidence, finding the case hopeless, ? gave a minute confession in court. He ex- ' « plained that, rejected in a dishonorable ;tj suit by Mme. Dumont, andfearingexposure M of his dishonest play by her husband, he I bad resolved to murder the banker and 5 throw the suspicion on the friend. He •-■ gave a full account of the way the deed was done, and concluded with a charitable wish for a private interview with me. The jury _\\ found him guilty, and next day the gaoler found him dead; he had taken poison. The3|f widow did not long resist my client's . oitjgsH on the wedding day Mons. Goudin >|[ gave me a cheque for twico the sum he had promised. The name the case earned for |H| mo brought so many clients that my pesi- ■ tion soon became too good for it to be neces- -tV sary for me to engage in any more of such desperate enterprises.—-E. F. Sfkkce in "Belgravia."

A new story of Carlyle is afloat in London. _\ One evening tho sage of Chelsea was talk- __\ ing of books in a email but somewhat mis- ".'•_ cellaneous company, when a young noblo- t a»f man-an Oxford student—announced that _\ he did not care much for works that ex- "-'■"_ pressed merely the author's theories and ■'<_ opinions, to which Carlyle gravely replied, :'-'M "Young sir, once upon a time there was 9s___\ man in Frantic whose name was Rosseau, W__ and he wrote a book which was filled with __\ theories and opinions. And the young ■ nobility and fops of tho period said that the I I book was wind. But, young sir, it is an ' incident of history that their skins went to __ I bind the second edition of that book!" ,|| I In Stockton, California, they give wife- i j beaters ninety days in the.chain-gang, and ,$ lin consequence, this form ~ ;,of. crime j3| j does not spread. It is a pity; we have not?sf| I got a chain-gang here. x § I DECL.t"E>OF MAN.-x-ertw- Wokaen *Ojiriei»li. 'M Il_l«,taaci.Setuin.UUljr, ..., >. • ■ ~__'• Uexllixlbmciii? I Atl>ru«(lata. ,_:...' "^TTviSM • '._ _.'.-_ U. K«0»Ul»BH, J-iww *C, At«otfc*»>,*!3% i |^

THE AU CKLAND EVENING STAR TH URSDAY MAYAN.GF2I4S3