"HAND AND RING,"

By Anna .Catherine Green, Author of "Tho Leavenworth Murder," "The Sword of Damodcs," "Tho Defence of tho Prude," etc. ♦

CHAPTER XXII.' CKAIIC MANSELL. Bring mo unto my trial when you will. Henry VI. «'He i 3 hero." Mr Forris threw aside his cigar, and looked up at Mr Byrd, who was standing be fore Mm. " You had no difficulty, then 1" . " No, sir. Ho acted like a man in hourly expectation of some such summons. At the very first intimation of your desiro to see him in Sibley, ho roso from his desk with what I thought was a moaning look at Mr Goodman, and aftor a few preparations for departure, signified he was ready to take the next train."

" And did ho ask no questions ?" "Only ono. He wished to know if I wero a detective. And when I responded 'Yes,' observed with an inquiring look : ' I am wanted as a witness, I suppose ?" A sug gestion to which I was careful to make no Mr" Ferris pushed aside his writing and glanced toward tho door. " Show him in, Mr Byrd," said he. A moment aftor Mr Mansell ontored the room. , , ... The District Attorney had never seen this man, and was struck at onco by tho forco and manliness of his appearance. Half rising from his seat to greet the visitor, he . I have to bog your'pardon, Mr Mansell. Feeling it quite necessary to see you, I took the liborty of requesting you to take this jonrney, my own time being fully occupied at present." , Mr Mansell bowed—a slow, self-possessed bow—and advancing to the table before whioh the District Attorney sat, laid his hand firmly upon it and said * "No apologies are needed. Ihen shortly, " What is it you want of me!" The words were almost the same as those which had been used by Mr Hildreth under similar circumstances, but how different was their effect! The one was the utterance of a weak man driven to bay, the other of a strong one. Mr Ferris, who was by no means of an impressible organisation, flashed a look of somewhat uneasy doubt at Mr Byrd, and hesitated slightly before proceed- Ing. " Wo have sent for you in this friendly way," he remarked, at lost, "in order to give you that opportunity for explaining certain matters connected with your aunt's sudden death which your well-known character and good position seem to warrant. We think you can do this. At all events I have accorded myself the privilege of so supposing; any 'words you may have to say will meet with all due consideration. As Mrs Clemmens's nephew, you, of course, dosiro to see hor murderer brought to justice ?" The slightly rising inflection given to the lost few words made them to all intents and purposes a question, and Mr Byrd, who stood near by, waited anxiously for thede cided Yes which seemed the only possible reply under the circumstances, but it did not come. - Surprised, and possibly anxious, the Dis trict Attorney repeated himself: "As her nt-phew," said he, "and the in heritor of the few savings she has left be hind her, you can have but one wish on this subject, Mr Mansell ?" But this attempt succeoded no better than the first. Beyond n slight compres sion of tho lips, Mr Mansell gave no mani festation of having heard this remark, and both Mr Ferris and tho detective found themselves forced to wonder at the rigid honesty of a man who, whatever doath giving blow he may have dealt, would not nllow himself to escape the prejudice of Mb accusers by assenting to a supposition he and they knew to be false. Mr Ferris did not press the question. "Mr Mansell," he remarked instead, "a person by tho name of Gouverneur Hildreth is as you must know, under arrest at this time, charged with the crime of having given tho blow that led to your aunt's death. The ovidonco against him is strong, and the public generally have no doubt that his arrest will lead to trial, if not to convic tion. But, unfortunately for us, however fortunately for him, another person has lately been found, against whom an equal show of evidence can be raised, and it is for the purpose of satisfying ourselves that it a but a show we have requested your presence here to-day." _ A spasm, vivid as it was instantaneous, distorted for a moment the powerful features of Craik Mansell at the words, "another •nerson " but it was gono before the sentence was completed; and when Mr Ferris ceased, he looked up with the steady calm ness which made his bearing so remark * «?I am waiting to hear the name of this freshly suspected person," he observed. "Cannot you imagine?" asked the Dis trict Attorney, coldly, secretly disconcerted u^de^aga^e that held his own with such BtThe eyeballs "ofthe other flashed like coals °f" Ithink it is my right to hear it spoken," heThis atoplay of feeling restored Mr Ferris to"iTfmoment, sir," said he. "Mean „„,*lo have you any objections to answer tag a few questions!. would like to put to y°" I will hear them," was the steady re-

pl£"vou know," said the District Attorney, «you are at perfect liberty to answer or nn3. as Ton see fit. I have no desire to en trap you into any acknowledgments you may hereafter regret." »Speak," was the solo response he re- sir," said Mr Ferris, "are you - And-P. rdonT me if I go too far-were d . Bfeo jshero the morning she was murdered jP &rtous aJWWto yourself,?™ X T°^ y«hownhls surprise, or, possibly, Haying shown" on ofthe other's biß_? larCraik y Mansell paused and looked T*. ' n ronnd the room until he encountered slowly aroonai"* 5 d com . Mr Byrd;seye. There* P MBl°„ to stX him with great force, for seemed toß™ Ued that he was away from he Bton n 1 etopped-his glance still fixed home, and steppe g f q{ SP° n *' heywoufd force* the secrets of that Mb gaze, W wow detective s soulto " dth Digtl . ict At " Mr M&et avowal on your part of torney,"^"^ at that time, the-^e where y _am „ would be best io know?" inquired ''^J°.iseyeftillupon.Horaceßyrd.. the other, his eye thlnk you were m .. We have reason x to recall the attention °?fts Mansell quietly "A. d SeJfon you can have for such a said, ",^f, reNo one could have seen me auppos"lo" •* , j have not entered the hereof or^tUJ to day^. nee my yiaitto my 2eS&!^ansell,' "N° ?" _ the faintest hint of emotion in There was the m that one word, f\T vSEJMU *>c sp°ko hl3 next Sjff h-,» -gift SooV Ky streets ?" __,„:„„, Mr Ferris inquired : ?D?dlo°u *$ ou" Bat8 at Sibley Station, Mr Mansell?" - t , u „ mo ved self-posses- But the othei, .i o_,0_, returned V., __ ;> , (I liave "^^J^'^'Dirtrict Attorney now „ Mt Mansell, tM£ fi . decoi _.; ng observed,, we na You were in or «en w»X a morning o your aunt's this town on™e 9 eve n in her house, murder, and yon di9pu te proves Evidence -wWcny now artae-3, and this, '-**,&J£2&o\ we leave you to.udge, of whoee toP^ e Mere prior to the visit i 8 whether you were* _ f SS^^^ttSbofore^l receive Kue consider-xtion.^ Jnv oluntary, A change, decided M» took place in the ManselL Leaning atotaJTWf were uot wanted

here simply as a witness, ond he did not say No. NoW^sir," he continued, turning back with a slight gesture of disdain to tho Dis trict Attorney, " was the man right in allowing me to believe such a fact, or was he not ? I would like an answer to my question before I proceed further, if you please." " You shall have it, Mr Mansell. If this man did not answer you, it was probably because ho did not feel justified in so doing. He knew I had summoned you here in the hope of receiving such explanations of your late conduct as should satisfy me you had nothing to do with your aunt's murder. The claims upon my consideration, which are held by certain persons allied to you in this matter "— MrFerris's look was eloquent of his real meaning here—" are my sole justification for this somewhat unusual method of dealing with a suspected man." A emile, bitter, oh, how bitter in its irony ! traversed the firm-sot lips of Craik Mansoll for a moment, then ho bowed with a show of deference to the District Attorney, and settling into the attituae of a man will ing to plead his own cause, responded :

"It would bo more just, perhaps, if I first heard the reasons you have for suspect ing me, before I attempt to advance argu ments to prove the injustice of your sus picions."

" Well," said Mr Ferris, " you shall have them. If frankness on my part can do aught to avert the terrible scandal which your arrest and its consequent develop ments would cause, I am willing to sacrifice thus much to my friendship for Mr Orcutt. But if I do this, I shall expect an equal frankness in return. The matter is too serious for subterfuge" Tho other merely waved his hand. "The reasons," procoeded Mr Ferris, " for considering you a party as much open to suspicion as Mr Hildreth, are several. First, wo have evidence to prove your sjroat desire for a sum of money equal to your aunt's savings, in order to introduce an invention which you have just patented. "Secondly, we can show that you loft your home in Buffalo the day before tho assault, came to Monteith, the next town to this, alighted at the remote station assigned to the uso ofquarrymen, crossed the nills and threaded the woods till you came to a small hut back of your aunt's house, where you put up for the night. "Thirdly, ovidonce is not lacking to prove that whilo there you visited your aunt's onco, if not twice; the last time on the very morning she was killed, entering the houso in n surreptitious way by the back door, and leaving it in the same suspicious manner.

"And, fourthly, we can prove that you escaped from this place as you had come, secretly, and through a difficult and round about path over the hills. "Mr Mansoll, these facts, taken with your retiabnee concerning a visit so mani festly of importance to the authorities to know, must strike even you as offering grounds for a suspicion as grove as that at taching to Mr Hildreth." With a restraint marked as It was im pressive, Mr Mansell looked at the District Attorney for a moment, and then said: " You speak of proof. Now, what proof havo you to give that I put up, as you call it, for a night, or evon for an hour, in the hut which stands iv tho woods back of my aunt's house?"

" This," was Mr Ferris's reply. "It is known you wore in the woods the afternoon previous to the assault upon your aunt, bo cause you wero seen there in company with a young lady with whom you were holding a tryst. Did you speak, sir ?" "No!" was the violent, almost disdain ful, rejoinder. "You did not sleep at your aunt's, for her rooms contained not an evidence of having been opened for a guost, while tho hut revealed more than ono trace of having been used as a dormitory. I could even tell you where you cut the twigs of hemlock which served you for a pillow, and point to tho place where you sat when you scribbled over the margin of tho Buffalo "Courier" with a bluo pencil, such as that I now see projecting from your vest pocket." "It is not necessary," replied tho young man, hoavily frowning. Then with another short glance at Mr Ferris, ho again de manded :

"What is your reason for stating I visited my aunt's house on the morning she was murdered? Did anyone see me doit? or does the house, like tho hut, exhibit traces of my presence thero at that particu lar time?"

There was irony in his tono, and a dis dain almost amounting to scorn in his wido fiashing bluo eyes ; but Mr Ferris, glancing at the hand clutched about the railing of the desk, remarked quietly : " You do not wear the diamond ring you carried away with you from the tryst, I mentioned ? Can it be that tho ono which was picked up after the assault, on the floor of Mrs Clemmens's dining-room, could have fallen from your finger, Mr Mansell ?" A start, tho first this powerfully repressed man had given, showed that his armour of resistance had been piercod at last. " How do you know," he quickly asked, " that I carried away a diamond ring from the tryst you speak of ?" " Circumstances," returned the District Attorney, " prove it beyond a doubt, Miss Dare "

" Miss Dare!"

Oh, the indescribable tone of this ex clamation ! Mr Byrd shuddered as he heard it, and looked at Mr Mansell with a new feeling, for which he had no name. " Miss Daro," repeated tho District At torney, without, apparently, regarding the interruption, "acknowledges she returned you the ring which you endeavoured at that interview to bestow upon her." " Ah !" The word came after a moment's pause. "I see the case has been well worked up, and it only remains for me to give you such explanations as I choose to make. Sir," declared he, stepping forward, and bringing his clenched hand down upon the desk at which Mr Ferris was sitting, "I did not kill my aunt. I admit that I paid her a visit. I admit that I stayed in the woods back of hor house, ond oven slept in the hut, as you have said; but that was on the day previous to' her murder, and not after it. I went to see her for the. purpose of again urging the claims of my invention upon her. 1 went secretly, and by the roundabout way you describe, because I had another purpose in visiting Sibley, which made it expedient for me to conceal my presence in the town. I failed in my efforts to enlist the sympathies of my aunt in re gard to my plans, aud I failed also in com passing that other desire of my heart of which the ring you mention was a token. Both failures unnerved me, and I lay in that hut all night, I even lay there most of the next morning; but I did not see* my aunt again, and I did not lift my hand against There was indescribable quiet in the tone, but there was indescribable power also, and the look he levelled npon the District At torney was unwaveringly solemn and "You deny, then, that you entered the widow's house on the morning of the murder?"

"I do." - . ... "It is, then, a question of veracity .6' tween you and Miss Dare ?"

Silence. , , , " She asserts she gave you back the ring you offered her. If this is so, and that ring was in your possession after you lelt her on Monday evening, how came it to be in the widow's dining-room tho next mora ine, if you did not carry it there ! . "I can only repeat my words," rejoined Mr Mansell. The District Attorney replied impatiently. For various reasons he did not wish to be lieve this man guilty. " You do not seem very anxious to assist me in my endeavours to reach the truth, he observed. " Cannot you tell me what you did with the ring after you left Miss Dare? AVhether you put it on your finger, or thrust it into YO ur pocket, or tossed it into the marsh? If you did not carry it to the house, some one else must have done so, and you ought to be able to help us in determining who. But Mr Mansell shortly responded: "I have nothing to say about the ring. , From the moment Miss Dare returned it to me, as you say, it was, so far as I am con- I cer_ed, a thing forgotten. Ido not know at I should ever have thought of it again if you had not mentioned it to me to-day. How it vanished from my possession, only to reappear upon the scene of murder, some more clever conjurer than myself must ex- Pl" And this is all you have to say, Mr 1 " This is all Ihu veto say." * "Bvrd " suggested the District Attorney after along pause, during which the sub feet of his suspicions had stood before him £ rigid and inscrutable as a statue in htnnre "Mr Mansell would probably like t?go to the hotel, unless, mdeed he desires to return immediately to Buffalo Praik Mansell at once started forward. Hdoyou intend to allow me to return to Riiffalo 1" he aisked. , «W' was the District Attorney s reply. "You are a good maii," brokei mvolun tarilv from the other's lips, and he unpu. rivolv reached out his hand, but as quickly drew ttbtk: with a flush of pride that grA bnorsay -quoth Mr Ferris, "that II exbmpt yon from surveillance.. As proa* Lting attorney of this district, my duty is to seik out and discover tho man whp_ i murferedMrs Clemmons, antt your «__u*

r tions have not been as full or as satisfactory c as I could wish." "Your men will always find me at my 1 desk in the mill," said Mr Mansell coldly. . And'with another short bow, he left the 1 attorney's sido and went quickly out. " That man is innocent," declared Mr s Ferris, as Horace Byrd leaned above him in f expectation of instructions to keep watch . over the departing visitor. "Tho way in . which he held out his hand to me spoke • volumes," 1 The detective cast a sad glance at Craik , Mansell's retreating figure, i " You could not convince Hickory of that i fact," said he. i CHAPTER XXIII. ' MR ORCUTT. What is it she docs no w ? ! —Macoeth. • My resolution's plac'd, and I have nothing I Of woman in mo. Now, fromTioad to foot I am marble—constant. —Antony and Cleopatra. These words rang in the oars of Mr Ferris, for ho felt himself disturbed by them. ] Hickory did not believe Mr Mansell inno cent. At last ho sont for that detective. " Hickory," he asked, " why do you think Mansell, rather than Hildreth, com mitted this crime ?" Now this query, on tho part of tho Dis trict Attorney, put Hickory into a quand ary. Ho wished to keep his promise to Horace Byrd, and yet he greatly desired to answer his employer's question truthfully. Without any special sympathies of hie own, he yet had an undeniable loaning toward justice, and justice certainly demanded the indictment of Mansell. Ho ended by com promising matters. "Mr Ferris," said he, "when you wont to see Miss Daro the othor day, what did you think of her state of mind ?" "That was a very unhappy ono." "Didn't you think more than that, sir? Didn't you think she belioved Mr Mansell guilty of this crime ?'' " Yes," admitted the other, with reluct ance. " If Miss Daro is attached to Mr Mansoll, she must feel certain of his guilt to offer testimony against him. Her beliof should go for something, sir; for much, it strikes mo, when you consider what a woman sho la." This conversation increased Mr Ferris's uneasiness. Much as he wished to spare the feelings of Miss Dare, and, through hor, those of his friend, Mr Orcutt, the convic tion of Mansell's criminality was slowly gaining ground in his mind. He re membered the peculiar manner of the latter during the interview they had held together; his quiet acceptance of the position of a suspected man, and his marked reticence in regard to the ring. Through tho delicate nature of tho interests involved might be sufficient to \ explain his behaviour in tho latter regard, , his whole conduct could not bo said to be that of a disinterested man, even if it were not necessarily that of a guilty ono. In whatever way Mr Ferris looked nt it, he ! could come to but one conclusion, and that was, that justice to Hildreth called for such , official attention to the evidence which had , been collected against Mansell as should secure tho indictment of that man against , whom could bo brought tho moro convinc ing proof of guilt, Not that Mr Ferris meant, or in anywise , considered it good policy, to havo Mansell arrested at this time. As the friond of Mr Orcutt, it was manifestly advisable for him ' to present whatever evidence he possessed I against Mansoll directly to the Grand Jury. For in this way he would not only save tho ( lawyer from the pain and humiliation of ' seeing the woman he so much loved called f up as a witness against tho man who had f successfully rivalled him in her affections, but would run the chance, at least, of ' eventually preserving from open knowledge f the various details, if not tho actual facts, j which had led to this person being bus pectod of crime. For the Grand Jury is . a body who c business it is to make secret inquisition into criminal offences. Its mem- ' bers are bound by oath to the privacy of f their deliberations. If, thorefore, thoy J should find the proofs presented to thorn by J tho District Attorney insufficient to author- ' ise an indictment against Mansell, nothing * of their proceedings would transpire. . While on the contrary, if thoy decided that the ovidence was such as to oblige them to 1 indict Mansoll instead of Hildreth, noithor ' Mr Orcutt nor Miss Daro could hold the ' District Attorney accountable for tho ex- j poßuros that must follow. The course, thorefore, of 2'lr Ferris was j determined upon. All tho evidenco in his ' possession against both partios, together J with tho verdict of tho coroner's jury, ' should go nt onco beforo tho Grand Jury; ' Mansell, in the meantime, being so watched that a bench-warrant issuing upon tho in- f dictment would have him safely in custody at any moment. c But this plan for saving Mr Orcutt's s feelings did net succeed as fully as Mr l Ferris hoped. By somo moans or othor tho rumour got abroad that another man than ' Hildreth had fallen under the suspicion of *• the authorities, and ono day Mr Ferris 1 found himself stopped on the street by tho ( very person he had for a week been en- ' deavouring to avoid. "Mr Orcutt!" he criod, " how do you do ? ( I did not recognise you at first." J "No?" was the sharp rejoinder. "I'm • not myself nowadays. I have a bad cold." i With which impatient explanation he ' seized Mr Ferris by tho arm and said : " But ' what is this I hear? You have your eye on another party suspected of being Mrs ' Clemmens'sjmurderer V' ' The District Attorney bowed uneasily. ( He had hoped to escape the discussion of ' this subject with Mr Orcutt. The lawyer observed the embarrassment • his question had caused, and instantly I turned pale, notwithstanding the hardihood ' which a long career at the bar had givon him. '

"Ferris," ho pursued, in a voice he strove bard to keep steady, "we have al ways been good friends, in spite of the many tilts we have had together before tho court. VVill you bo kind enough to inform me if your suspicions are founded upon evidence collected by yourself, or at tho instigation of parties protessing to know more about this murder than they hnve hitherto re vealed ?"

Mr Ferris could not fall to understand tho*true nature of this question, and out of pure friendship answered quietly:

"I have allowed myself to look with suspicion upon this Mansell—for it is Mrs Clemmens's nephew who is at present occu pying our attention—because the facte which have com© to light in his regard are as criminating in their nature as those which bave transpired in reference to Mr Hildreth. The examination into this matter which my duty requires has been any thing but pleasant to me, Mr Orcutt. The evidence of such witnesses as will havo to be summoned before the Grand Jury is of a character to bring open humiliation, if not secret grief, upon persons for whom I enter tain the bighest esteem." The pointed way in which this was said convinced Mr Orcutt that his worst fears had been realised. Turning partly away, but not losing his hold upon the other's arm, he observed with what quietness he could: "You say that so strangely, I feel forced to put another question to you. If what I ask strikes you with any surprise, remember that my own astonishment and perplexity at being constrained to interro gate you in this way, are greater than any sensation you can yourself experience. What I desire to know is this. Among the witnesses you have collected against this last suspected party there are some women, are there not ?"

The District Attorney gravely bowed. " Ferris, is Mis 3 Dare amongst them ?"

" Orcutt, she is." With a look that expressed his secret mis trust the lawyer gave way to a sudden burst of feeling. "Ferris," he wratbfully acknowledged, " I may be a fool, but I don't see what she Can have to say on this subject. It is im possible she should know anything about tho murder; and, as for this Mansell " Ho made a violent gesture with his hand, as if tho very idea of her having any ac quaintance with the nephew of Mrs Clem mens were simply preposterous. The District Attorney, who saw from this how utterly ignorant tho other was con cerning Miss Dare's relations to the person named, felt his embarrassment increase. "Mr Orcutt," he replied, " strange as it may appear to you, Miss Dare lias testimony to give of value to the prosecution, or she would not be reckoned among jits witnesses. What that testimony is, I must leave to her discretion to make known to you, as she doubtless will, if you question her with sufficient consideration. I never forestall matters myself, nor would you wish me to tell you what would more becomingly come from her own lips. But, Mr Orcutt, this I can say: that if it had been given me to choose between the two alternatives of re signing my office and of pursuingan inquiry which obliges me to submit to the un pleasantness of a judicial investigation a rsrson held in so much regard by yourself, would have given up my office with pleasure, so keenly do I feel the embarrass ment of my position and the unhappinessaf youp_ But any me*e resignation on my part would have availed nothing to save Miss Dare from appearing before the Grand Jury. The evidence she has to give in this

matter makes the case against Mansell as strong as that against Hildreth, ond it would be the duty of any public prosecutor to recognise the fact and act accordingly." Mr Orcutt, who had by tho greatest effort succeeded in calming himself through this harangue, flashed sarcastically at this last remark, and surveyed Mr Ferris with a peculiar look. "Are you sure," he inquired in a slow, ironical tone, " that sho has not succeeded in making it stronger ?" The look, the tone, were unexpected, and greatly startled Mr Ferris. Drawing nearer to his friend, he returned his gaze with marked earnestness.

"What do you mean?" he asked, with

secret anxiety. But the wary lawyer had already repented this unwise betrayal of his own doubts. Meeting his companion's eye with a calm ness that amazed himself, he remarked, in stead of answering : "It was through Miss Dare, then, that your attention was first drawn to Mrs Clemmens's nephew ?"

"Mo," disclaimed Mr Ferris, hastily. " The detectives already had their eyes up on him. But a hint from hor went far to ward determining me upon pursuing the matter," he allowed, Beeing that his friend was determined upon hearing tho truth. "So then," obsorved the other, with a stern dryness that recalled his manner at the bar, "she opened a communication with you herself?" "Yes." It was enough. Mr Orcutt dropped the arm of Mr Forris, and, with his usual hasty bow, turned Shortly away. The re velation which he believed himself to have received in this otherwise far from satisfac tory interviow was one that ho could not afford to share—that is, not yet; not while any hope remained that circumstances would so arrange themselvos as to make it unnecessary for him to do so. If Imogone Daro, out of her insane desire to free Gouverneur Hildreth from the suspicion that oppressed him, had resorted to perjury and invented evidence tending to show the guilt of another party—and remembering lier admissions at their last interview and tho language sho had used in hor letter of farewell, no other conclusion offered itself —what alternative was left him but to wait till he had seen her before he proceeded to an interference that would separate hor from himself by a gulf still greater than that which already existed between them ? To be sure, the jealousy which consumed him, the passionate rage that seized his whole being when ho thought of all sho dared to do for tho man she loved, or that be thought she loved, counselled him to nip this attempt of hers in the bud, and by means of a word to Mr Ferris throw such a doubt upon hor voracity as a witness against this hew party as should greatly inlluonco tho action of tho former in the critical businoss ho had in hand. But Mr Orcutt, wlTilo a prey to unwonted passions, had not yot lost control of his reason, and reason told him that impulse was an unsafe guido for him to follow at this timo Thought alono—deep and concentrated thought—would help him out of this crisis with honour and safoty, But thought would not come nt coll. In all bis quick walk home but one mad sentence formu lated itself in his brain, and that was : "She loves him so, she is willing to perjure her self for his sake!" Nor, though he entered his door with his usuaJ bustling air and wont through all the customary observ ances of the hour with an appearance of no greater abstraction and gloom than had characterised him ever sinco tho departure of Miss Daro, no other idea obtruded itsolf upon his mind than this: "She loves him so, sho is willing to porjuro liarsolf for his sake!"

Even tho sight of his books, his papers, and all that various paraphernalia of work and study which gives character to a lawyor's library, was insufficient to restore his mind to its usual condition of calm thought and accurate judgment. Not till tho clock struck oig lit and he found himsolf almost without his own volition at Profes sor Darling's house, did bo realise all the difficulties of his position and the almost in tolerable nature of the undertaking which had been forced upon him by tho exigencies of the situation.

Miss Daro, who had refused to sco hum at first, camo into his presence with an ex pression that showed him with what reluct ance she had finally respondod to his per emptory message. But in the fow heavy momonts ho had been obliged to wait, he had schooled himself to expect coldness if not absolute rebuff. Ho therefore took no hoed of tho haughty air of inquiry which she turned upon him, but camo at once to tho point, saying almost bofore sho had closed tho door:

" What is this you havo been doing, Imo gene ?" A flush, such as glints across the faco of a marble statue, visited for a moment tho still whitenoss of her sot features, thon she replied:

"Mr Orcutt, when I left your houso I told you I had a wretched and unhappy duty to perform that, when once accom plished, would separate us for ever. I have done it, and the separation has como ; why attempt to bridge it ?" There was a sad weariness in her tono, a sad woarinoßs in her face, but he seemed to recognise neither. The demon jealousy— that hindrance to all unselfish feeling—had gripped him again, and the words that came to his lips were at once bitter and masterful.

"Imogene," ha cried, .with as much wrath in his tone as he hod ever betrayed in her presence, " you do not answer my question. I ask you what you havo been doing, and you reply, your duty. Now, what do you mean by duty? Tell me at once and distinctly, for I will no longer be put off by any roundabout phrases concern ing a matter of such vital importance." " Tell you ?" This repetition of his words had a world of secret anguish in it which he could not help but notice. She did not suc cumb to it, however, but continued in an other moment: "You said to me, in the last conversation we held together, tbat Gouverneur Hildreth could not be released from hie terrible position without a distinct proof of innocence or the advancement of such evidence against another as should turn suspicion aside from him into a new and more justifiable quarter. I could not, any moro than he, give a distinct proof of his innocence; but I could furnish -the authorities with testimony calculated to arouse suspicion in a frosh direction, and I did it. For Gouverneur Hildreth bad to be saved at any price— at any price." The despairing emphasis {she laid upon the last phrase went like hot steel to Mr Orcutt's heart, and made his eyes blaze with almost-uncontrollable passion. " Fenevoispas la necessite," said he, in that low, restrained tone of bitter sarcasm which made his invective so dreaded by op posing counsel. "If Gouverneur Hildreth finds himself in an unfortunate position, be has only his own follies and inordinate desire for this woman's death to thank for it." Because you love him and compassion ate him beyond all measure, thatis no reason why you should perjure yourself, and throw the burden of his shame upon a man as innocent as Mr Mansell."

But this tone, though it had made many a witness quail before it, neither awed nor intimidated her.

" You —you do not understand," came from her white lips. "It is Mr Hildreth who is perfectly innocent, and not " But here sho paused. "You will excuse mo from saying more," you as a lawyer, ought to know that I should not be com pelled to speak on a subject like this except undor oath.,'

"Imogene !" A change had passed over Mr Orcutt. "Imogene, do you mean to affirm that you really have charges to make against Craik Mansell; that this evidence you propose to give is real, and not manu factured for the purpose of leading sus picion aside from Hildreth ?"

It was an insinuation against her veracity he never could have made, or she have listened to, a few weeks be fore ; but the shield of her pride was broken between them, and neither he n6r i she seemed to give any thought to the re proach conveyed in these words. " What I have to say is tho truth," she 'murmured. "I have not manufactured anything."

With an astonishment ho took no pains to conceal, Mr Orcutt.anxiously surveyed her. He could not believe this wos so, yet how could he convict her of falsehood in face of that suffering expression of resolve which she wore ? His methods as a lawyer came to hip relief.

"Imogene," he slowly responded, "if as you say, you are in possession of positive evidence against this Mansell, bow combs it that you jeopardised the interests of tho mam you loved by so long withbolding your testimony ?"

But instead of the flush of confusion which he expected, she flashed upon him with a sudden revelation of feeling that made him involuntarily start. " Shall I tell you ?" she replied. "You will have to know some time, and why not now? I kept back the truth," she replied advancing a step, but without raising her eyes to his, " because it is not the aspersed Hildreth that I love, but " ! Why did she pause? What was it she found so hard to speak? Mr Orcutt's ex pression became terrible. "■ •:'•-.' - But the other," she murmured at last. "The other!"

It was now her turn to start and look at ihim in surprise, if not in some fear. "What other?" he cried, seizing her by the hand. "Name him. I will have no further misunderstanding between us." " Is it necessary?" she asked with bitter ness. "Will Heaven spare me nothing?" Then as she saw no relenting in tne fixed gaze that held her own, whispered, in a hollow tone: " You have just spoken the name yourself—Craik Mansell."

"Ah!" Incredulity, anger, perplexity, _ all the emotions that were seething in this man's troubled soul, spoke in that simple exclama tion. Then silence settled upon the room, during which she gained control over her self, and he the semblance of it if no more. She was the first to speak. " I know," said she, "that this avowal on my part seems almost incredible to you ; but it is no more so than that which you so readily received from me the other day In reference to Gouverneur Hildreth. A woman who spends a month away from home makes acquaintances which she does not always mention when she comes back, I saw Mr Mansell in Buffalo, and—" turn ing, she confronted the lawyer with her large grey eyes, in which a fire burned such as he nad never seen thero before—"and grew to esteem him," she went on. "For the first time in my life I found myself in the presence of a man whose nature com manded mine. His ambition, his deter mination, his unconventional and forcible character woke aspirations within me such as I had never known myself capable of be fore. Life, which had stretched out before me with a somewhat monotonous outlook, changed to a panorama of varied and won derful experiences, as I listened to his voice and met the glanoe of his eye; and soon, bofore he knew it, and certainly before I realised it, words of love passed between us, and the agony of that struggle began which has ended Ah, let me not think how, or I shall go mod I"

Mr Orcutt, who had watched he. with a lover's fascination during all this attempted explanation, shivered for a moment at this last bitter cry of love and despair, but Bpoke up when he did speak with a cold ness that verged on severity.

"So you loved another man whon you camo back to my home and listened to the words of passion which came from my lips, and the hopes of future bliss and happiness that welled up my heart ?" " Yes," she whispered, "and, as you will remember, I tried to suppress thoso hopes and turn a deaf ear to those words, though I had but little prospect of marrying a man whose fortunes depended upon the success of an invention I:. could persuade no one to believe in."

" Yet you brought yourself to listen to thoso hopes on the afternoon of the murder," he suggostod, ironically. " Can you blame mo for that?" she cried, " remembering how you pleaded, and what a revulsion of feeling I was labouring under?"

A smile bitter as the fate which loomed before him, and scornful as the feelings that secretly agitated his breast, parted Mr Oroutt's pale lips for on instant, and he seemed about to give utterance to some passionate rejoinder, but he subdued him self with a determined effort, and quietly waiting till his voice was undor full con trol, remarked with lawyor-like brevity at last:

" You have not told mo what evidence you have to give against young Mansoll ?" Her answer came with equalbrovity if not equal quietness. "No ; I have told Mr Ferris; is not that enough ?" But he did not consider it so. "Ferris is a District Attorney," said ho, " and has demanded your confidence for the purposes of justlco, while I am your friend. The action you have token is peculiar, and you may need advice. But now can I give it or how can you receivo it unless thero is a complete understanding between us?"

Struck in spite of herself, moved perhaps by a hope she had not allowed herself to contemplate bofore, she looked at him long and earnestly.

"And do you really wish to help me?" she inquired. " Aro yeu so generous as to forgive the pain, and possibly the humilia tion, I have inflicted upon you, and lend me your assistance in case my testimony works its due off eot, and ho be brought to trial in stead of Mr Hildreth ?"

It was a searching nnd a pregnant ques tion, for which Mr Orcutt was possibly not fully prepared, but his newly gained con trol did not give way. " I must insist upon hearing the facts be fore I say anything of my intentions," he averred. "Whatever they may be, thoy cannot be more startling in their character than those which have been urged against Hildreth."

"But they are," she whispered. Then with a quick look around her, she put her mouth close to Mr Orcutt's ear and breathed:

"Mr Hildreth is not the only man who, unseen by the neighbours, visited Mrs Clemmens's house on the morning of the murder. Craik Mansell was there also."

"Craik Mansell I How do you know that ? Ah,'.' he pursued, with the scornful ! intonation of a jealous man, "I forgot that you are lovers." Tbe sneer, natural as it was, perhaps, : seemed to go to her heart and wake its fiercest indignation. 7 "Hußh I" cried she, towering upon him with an ominous flash of her proud eye. " Do not turn the knife in that wound, or you will seal my lips for ever." And sho moved hastily away from his side. But in another instant she determinedly returned, saying: " This is no time for indulging in one's sensibilities. I affirm that Craik Mansell visited his aunt on that day, be cause the ring which was picked up on the floor of her dining-room—you remember tbe ring, Mr Orcutt ?" Remember it! Did he not ? All his many perplexities in its regard crowded upon him as he made a hurried bow of ac quiescence. "It belonged to him," she oontinued. " He had bought it for me, or, rather hod had tho diamond reset for me—it had been his mother's. Only the day before, he had tried to put it on my finger in a meeting we had in the woods back of his aunt's house. But' I refused to allow him. The prospect ahead was too dismal and unre lenting for us to betroth ourselves, whatever onr hopes or wishes might be." ii You—you had a meeting with this man in the woods tbe day before his aunt was as saulted," echoed Mr Orcutt, turning upon her with an amazement that swallowed up his wrath. "Yes." " And he atterward visited her houßO ?" "Yes." " And dropped that ring there!" "Yes." Starting slowly, as if the thoughts roused by this short statement of facts were such as demanded instant consideration, Mr Orcutt walked to the other side of the room, where he paced up and down in E.lenco for some minutes. When he returned it was the lawyer instead of the lover who stood before her. "Then it was tho simple fact of finding this gentleman's ring on tho floor of Mrs Clemmens's diving-room thatmakesyou con sider him the murderer of his aunt?" ho asked, with a tinge of something like irony in his tone. "No," she breathed rather than answered. "That was a proof, of course, that ho had been there, but I should never have thought of it as an evidence of guilt if the woman herself had not uttered in our hearing that tell-tale exclamation of ' Ring and Hand,' and if, in the talk I held with Mr Mansell the day before, ho had not be trayed -Why do you stop me?" she whispered. "I did not stop you," he hastily assured her. "lam too anxious to hear what you have to say. Go on, Imogene. What did this Mansell betray? I—l ask as a father might," he added, with some dignity and no little effort. But her fears had taken alarm, or her caution been aroused, and she merely said: "The five thousand dollars which his aunt leaves him 1b just the amount he desired to start him in life." "Did he wish such an amount?" Mr Orcutt asked. "Very much." " And acknowledged it in the conversa tion he had with you ?" "Yes." " Imogene," declared the lawyer, "if you do not want to insure Mr Mansell's indict ment, I would suggest to you not to lay too great stress upon any talk you may have held with him." But she cried with unmoved sternness, and a relentless crushing down of all emotion that was at once amazing and pain ful to see: "The innocent is to be saved from the gallows, no matter what the fate of the guilty may be." And a shortbutagitated silence followed, which Mr Orcutt broke at last by saying : " Are these all the facte you have to give me?" She started, cast him a quick look, bowed her bead, and replied i "Yes." ■ There was something in the tone of this assertion that made him repeat his ques tion, --~'. "Aro these all the facts ybu have to give mci"

Her answer camo ringing and emphatic now. * " Yes," she avowed—"all." With a look of relief, slowly smothing out tho deep furrows of his brow, Mr Orcutt, for the second time, walked thoughtfully away in evident consultation of his own thoughts. This-time he was gone so long, the suspense became almost intolerable to Imogene. Feeling that she could endure it no longer, she followed him at last, and laid her hand upon his arm. '' Speak," she impetuously cried. ' * Tell me what you think; what I have to ex pect." But he shook his head. "Wait," ho returned; "wait till the Grand Jury has brought in a bill of indict ment. It will doubtless be against one of these two men ; but I must know which before I can say or do anything." " And do you think thero can be any doubt about which of those two it will be ?" sho inquired, with sudden emotion. "There is always doubt," he rejoined, " about'nnything or everything a body of mon may, do. This is a very remarkable case, Imogene," he resumed, with increased sombreness; " the most remarkable one, perhaps, that has ever come under my ob servation. What the Grand Jury will think of it; upon which party, Mansell or Hildreth, the weight of thoir suspicion will fall, neither I nor Ferris, nor any other man, can prophesy with any assurance. The ;evidence against both is, so far as we know, entirely circumstantial. That you believe Mr Mansell to be the guilty party " "Believe!" she murmured; "Iknowjt." "That you believe him to be the guilty party," the wary lawyer pursued, as if he nadnot heard hor, "does not imply that they will believe it too. Hildreth comes of a bad stock, and his late attempt at suicide tells wonderfully against him; yet, the facts you have to give in Mansell's disfavour are strong also, and Heaven only, knows what the upshot will be. However, a few weeks will determine all that, and then—- " Pausing, he looked at her, and, as he did so, the austerity and self-command of the law yer vanished out of sight, nnd the passion ate gleam of a fierce and overmastering love shone again in his eyes. "And then, he cried, " then we will see what Tremont Orcutt can do to bring order out of this chaos."

There was so much resolve in his look, such a hint of promise in his tone, that she flushed with something almost akin to hopo. " Oh, generous " she began. But lie stopped her before she could soy moro.

" Wait," he repeated; " wait till we see what action will be taken by the Grand Jury." And taking her hand, he looked oarnestly, if not passionately, in her face. " Imogene," ho commenced, " if I should succeed " But there he himself stopped short with a quick recalling of his own words, perhaps. "No," he cried, "I will say no moro till wo soo which of these two men is to be brought to trial." And ' pressing her hand to his lips, he gave her ono last look in which was concentrated all the secret passions which had been called forth by this hour, and hastily left the room. (To be Continued.)

REMINISCENCES BY A WATERLOO VETERAN.

That the race of Waterloo veterans is not yot extinct is evidenced by tho following extract from a recent issue of the Edin burgh "Scotsman":— Jonathan Alexander, an old soldier of the 66th Regiment of Foot, appeared last week as a lecturer for the first time before the members of the Morningside Athen_um, and entertained his audience for an hour and abalf with reminiscences of his soldiering, spoken in " broad Scotch," just as the incidonts recurred to his memory. He had served under three Kings and a Queen. MrSoton, of the Register House, occupied the chair, and introduced the "veteran and his dog" te the audience. Private Alexander, he said, was the son of a soldier who had fought in the American war for Independence, the brother of a soldier, and the father of a soldier—(applause)—and had been for tho last forty years in the service of Messrs Swan, cattle salesmen. (Ap : plause.) He (the veteran) said he had many relations, but only one friend in the world, and that was his dog. (Laughter and ap plause.) A number of the 92nd High landers wero on the platform by invitation, and it only required a representative from tbe Scots Greys to have made the old soldier completely happy. His narrative, dis jointed as it was, he told _in a droll way, commencing with his birth .in Foulis Closo on 19th May, 1799. With his regiment at St. Helena he was ono of the guards of Napoleon. His colonel was a man of about 20 stone (laughter), whom they all disliked. Onboard ship he fell down a hatchway on tho top of one of Alexander's comrades, and remarked that he didn't think any of the men would have been so serviceable to him. This colonel killed a horse every six months. (Laughter.) Napoleon, seeing ono of the men with a lot medals, asked what they were for. "Fight ing on the Continent," said the old soldier. "If you had been in my army, instead of being a private soldier you might have been a field-morshol." To which the private replied that more likely ho would havo been ," nothing at all." Aloxander camo back to Scotland, and was on guard when George IV. arrived at Leith. Ho " was a great big , novor was sober a' his days." (Loud laughter and cheers ) A fine jolly fishwife came up to him with a server and oatmeal cake, cheese, and a glass of whisky on it. She said "Hae, Geordie, you're in the land o' cakes." (Laughter.) He drank the whisky. (Great laughter.) When on guard in one of tho corridors of Holyrood Palace during the " grand den nor" he hoard it said that the King was so delighted with the Scotch haggis that he intended to have one to his dinner every day, the narrator adding,' 'but whether ho had or no, my dear friends, I couldna tell." (Laughter.) His experiences in England and Ireland were next told, and thereafter their trials in fighting in Canada during winter. Subsequently the old vet eran recited with considerable spirit " Scotland for Ever," and sang a great many verses of a song, ." Tho Soldier's Return." An interesting rencontre then occurred. One of the gentlemen present among the audience was Captain Jenkia, of tho Royal Navy, father of Professor Flem ing-Jenkin, and he, proceeding to the platform, hailed the veteran lec turer as an old comrade. Captain Jen kin explained that he had been on the guardship off St. Holena in 1816 and 1819. They received signals three times a day of the safety of Napoleon, and he knew so much about the 66th Regiment there that tho naval officer and private soldier forgot the audience, and continued the reminis cences to themselves. Mr David Dickson proposed a vote of thanks for the unique lecture. A high tribute was paid to the regiment represented on the platform.

Patriots at Home.

For real downright " diversion" of the ould Irish sort we have met nothing to com- Saro with the recent proceedings of the arrick-on-Suir Board of Guardians, as re ported in the "Waterford Standard." What the row was about we cannot pretend to know; we doubt, indeed, whether anyone present troubled his head on that matter. After some.heated talk, n Mr Shee called a Mr Kirwan "a bailiff," without the slightest reference to the subject under discussion. Of course, no true Irishman could sit still under such an insult, and the assailed gentleman consequently jumped up and retorted, " You had better kee*p your tongue in your cheek, or you'll get it across the ear!" Mr Shee must have declined to subject this unruly member to imprison ment, for tho report credits him with re plying, "You're a dirty-faced old sweep." A Mr Phelan here interfered with an uncompli mentary remark about "the notorious bum bailiff," but he was promptly suppressed by a shout of " Sit down, you little good-for-nothing tinker," from a Mr Walsh. After that, the fun became so fast and furious that it would be necessary to print the wholo report to give a fair idea of its liveliness. Among the ohoicer epithets we find, " noisy little insect," " insignificant little viper," and " little grey-headed old blackguard ;"• and all these were hotly resented. But when one guardian called another " a sus pect and a Land Leaguer," the object of his vituperation drew himself up majestically, Btnote his chest, and bellowed, " lam both, and lam proud of it." Thereupon Mr Kir wan threatened to "smash his nose,' and the pugnacious pair were retiring from the room to have a friendly encounter outside, wh-.n the board interfered and passed to the order of tho day,

A Rattlesnake's Bite.—The quick venom of the rattlesnake has not killed so many people as the more insidious but deadly poisons found In the air of foul rooms. The aeration of the blood by tho lungs beoomes impossible some times, and the falling health, growing weak ness, and loss of appetite are harbingersi.c* approaching death. For such oasesHopßitters are the potent and all-powerful remedy to.drive ell lovers out of the system, purifying theiuood and giving a now and happy lease of life. Notloe. ,

THE DRAMA IN LONDON.

(BY OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.)

London, May 2, | Twenty-eight: theatres are now open in the West End of London, most of them doing really good business. The latest addition to the band—the Empire, in Leicester Square —is an extraordinarily gorgeous house, and bids fair to prove a very serious rival indeed to the Alhombra. A few weeks ago people were gushing over the glories of the Princes; now the. question all well regulated "mashers" put to one another is, "Have you been to the Empire, old chappie?" I looked in there about nine last Thursday, and was simply amazed. Such a comfortably-fitted and spacious auditorium, such a magnificent foyer, such regal staircases, and such a general effect of brilliancy and glitter, have certainly never been seen in a metropolitan theatre before. Moreover, the performance accords well with tho house. Mr Farnio has taken Herve's "Chilperic," which offers abundant opportunityforspectacular effect,and retain ing only the liveliest and most popular airs, mounted it regardless of expense. Pro cessions, ballets, and merry choruses (none of them too long) follow each other in quick succession, and a novel comic element has been introduced in the shape of a famous French drole or clown, who, although unable to speak a word of English, keeps the audience in fits of laughter. _ The climax of the Empire show, however, is the electric ballet, than which few things more weird and strange have been on the stage. At one moment, Chilperic's army stand apparently last in the gloomy distance of the dark forest, the next the whole scene is filled with a blazing mass of silver-clad amazons, upon whose helmets, spears and shields glitter countless tiny electric lamps of many colours. The shield effect stiuck me as specially good. The lamps are ar ranged in the centre in the f ormof a bouquet. The gems and the glamour when they suddenly spring from deepest darkness to tho most brilliant incandescent light almost blind one. The acting and solo singing in a spectacular show like the one at the Empire does not naturally go for much. Nevertheless, Mr Herbert Standing makes a good Chilperic, and Miss Madge Shirley a pretty Spanish Princess. Mdlle. Camille D'Arville is Fredegonda, and Harry Paulton and Miss Sallie Turner supply the comic element. "The Ironmaster," a literal translation by Mr Pinero of Ohnet's popular French drama "Le Maitre de Forges," was produced at the St. James's Theatre in Easter week, and scored a success. Like many other pieces brought out at this house, I don't believe it will succeed anywhere else. Take Mrs Kendal and her marvellous acting away, and the interest would collapse. She supports the whole weight of the drama. It is so French as to be almost incomprehensible to the majority of English theatre-goers; indeed, but for Mrs Kendal's art they would simply laugh at the story. In the first act we learn how the Marquise de Beaurepaire, a proud and wealthy but very kindhearted old lady, leaves a fortune, and how her daughter, Claire de Bequpre (Mrs Kendal), is jilted in consequence by the lover she adores — a certain Due de Bligny. De Bligny is a poor man, and a gambler. In an evil moment he puts him self in tho power of Monlinet, a money lender, who prevails upon him to accept a fortune in conjunction with the hand of his beautiful but ambitious daughter, Athenais. The latter has long hated Claire for her high breeding, her grace, and her popu larity ; so when De Bligny absolutely be comes betrothed to her she resolves'to go over and inform her rival that she has been jilted. The part of Athenais is splendidly acted by Miss Vane. The mock affection, the artificial smile, the hard laugh, and the bitter vindictiveness underlying all, are admirably indicated. She does not, how ever, get much satisfaction from gloat ing over Claire's discomfiture, for though we can see the poor girl is struck to the heart, she preserves a tone of polite indif ference. When, however, Athenais goes out for a moment, the veil is cast asunder. Outraged pride overcomes mere sorrow. She bethinks herself of a certain rich young ironmaster who adores her blindly, and would consider himself the happiest of men if she accepted him. He is sent for. Claire tells him of the Due's defection, and adds that she will now marry him if he chooses. At this crisis De Bligny himself arrives to apologise for the intrusion of Monlinet and Athenais,' and is introduced to Philip Der blay (the ironmaster) as Claire's fiance\ When the second act opens it is the night of Claire's marriage with Derblay, and all her relatives are assembled in the latter's castle. One by one, however, they leave, and Claire, upon whom a terrible dread and fear has been settling, at last finds herself alone with her husband. At first Philip attributes bis wife's icy coldness and stony silence to fatigue; but when upon his offering her a caress she half shrieks and shrinks away with ill-concealed loathing and aversion, light begins to dawn upon him. An affianced couple are never left alone together in France, so he has not had a chance of speaking to Claire since the betrothal. Now, in a moment he sees it all. She has simply made a tool of him, and married him to spite De Bligny. At first the injured man . wrath is awful to see, and he raises his hands to kill Claire. By-and-by, however, he settles down into a determined cold anger that we can see will continue. Claire shall be free. They will be husband and wife in name only. Presently, perhaps, she may change her mind, and wish to regain her husband, but he (Philip) swears a great oath that when that time comes she shall sue in vain.

Six months pass. - Claire has been very ill, and with her illness the penchant for De i Bligny (wbo is now married to Athenais) seems to have disappeared. She is Indeed beginning to love i Philip passionately, and to be.very jealous of his persistent attentions to Athenais. The latter makes as much mischief as she dare, but eventually goes toe far, for Claire publicly requests her to leave the house, and to the surprise of everyone, Philip sup ports his wife s decision. After this there is of course nothing for it but a duel. The Duo challenges Philip, and they meet in the forest close by, but Claire arrives in time to throw herself before Philip, and receive tbe bullet intended for him. She is not, however, killed, and a reconciliation brings down the curtain. The Criterion Theatre, entirely renovated and recon structed, has been re-opened by Mr Charles Wyndham, whose world-famous perform ance of the irrepressible Bob Sackett in Brighton is as screamingly funny as ever. Some people say Toole makes them laugh more than any other living comedian, but I always find Wyndham much more amusing. "The Beggar Student," the new comic opera by Millocker, is merely a Germanised version of the "Lady of Lyons." Some .noblemen to revenge themselves on a lady who has refused them, dress up a beggar student as a Prince, &c, _c, &c. The music is delightfully catching, and sure to be popular. I have not seen the perfor mance at the Alhambra yet, but the papers speak in high terms of the mounting andballetts. " Dan'l Druce," after a not very lengthy revival, will be withdrawn from the Court Theatre to-night, and " Devotion," a new comedy by Dot Bounicault (eldest son of the great Dion), substituted. Little Boucicault is one of the most boyish actors on the stage, but he inherits the faculty of " play uiongering," and has already . produced several fairly successful. comediettas. 1 have not heard whether " Devetion " is the dramatised version of Besant's "Chaplain of the Fleet," which he was_ said to be preparing for the stage some time ago. Lawrence Barrett, the American actor, does not look like becoming a success in England. His opening piece, "Yorick's Love," was withdrawn from the stage of the Lyceum last Saturday to make way for "Richelieu," and on Monday next " Fran cesca de Rivine" will be produced. These frequent changes are ominous. Mr Bland Holt, of Melbourne, has secured the colonial rights of a new Irish melodrama called "The Donagh," now being played at the Islington Grand Theatre, and you are sure to see it in New Zealand ere long. It is as full of ghastly sensationalisms as the most bloodthirsty theatre-goer could desire, but tho great attraction of the piece is a beautiful panorama of the Lakes of Killarney, painted by Beverly. This in itself would pull a much worse play through. Since the cheap prices were inaugurated, Her Majesty's Theatre has been a sight. Night after night the vast auditorum is crammed to excess, and "The Ticket of Leave Man" goes with even greater nerve and spirit than at the Olympic. The Gaiety Theatre is going rapidly down hill, "Our Helen" was a dead failure, and Byron's " Uncle " ond " The Bohemian G'yurl" havo been revived. These are both amusing, and may perhaps answer as a stop-gap; but the sooner Mr Holllngshead can underline something reall_ novel the better. Old burlesques re-hashed almost invariably turn out deadly dull. Joe Bldred, who I see died out in Sydney the other day, was a great favourite with pur English " sporting fraternity," and for many years leased the York add Doncaster

Theatres for the race-weeks. He played Mfeawber in "Little Emly" admirably, also Quilp in the "Old Curiosity Shop ;" i but the piece I used to think him most , effective in was a two-act melodrama by Dion Boucicault, called V Hunted Down." Mdme. Taglione, the great premiere dan seuse of Italian opera in the palmiest days of the ballet, died in Paris last week, aged eighty. Only recently sho was living in London, and after the loss of her fortuneby tho Franco-Prussian War, earned her living by teaching deportment in connection with Court ceremonials. Mary Anflereon's treasurer, a smooth tongued young- person named Abud, says that £97,000 passed through his hands dur ing their recent season at the Lyceum. The expenses were, compawttively speaking, small, so that you can imagine what a lot of -money "our Mary" and her father-in law divided. N° wonder the latter Woks with an evil eye on all eligible bachelors, and does his best te keep them out of his house. Miss Anderson's husband, whoever he may be, is scarcely likely to permit old Griffin to go on absorbing half his daughter in-law's earnings. I have not said onything about." Dick," the new comic opera at the Globe, because I know nothing save that it is declared to be a great success in Gilbert and Sullivan's style. Before next mail I hope to see the piece, and form my own opinion. Some of the lyrics published are unquestionably funny. b_ '

Land Drainage.

Whatever the composition or natural capa bility of soil, its fertility depends materially upon its relation to the water which falls upon it. If the rain water has free access throughout it—a free passage through it— not only are ingredients added which the roots absorb for the nourishment of the plant, but these ingredients are available in the laboratory of the soil for those purposes by which plant food is manufactured from the material of soil' itself, and from the manure added to it;,and, above all, the full use is obtained of a necessary carrier of plant-food by the hungry mouths, the ab sorbent ends of root fibres to which it must be brougbt., Upon the permeability, as well as on the composition of a soil, its fertility is thus very materially dependent; and land drainage, either natural or arti ficial, is essential to it. When there is on excess of Water in the soil, and no provision exists for withdrawing it, the interstitial canals become completely filled, to the exclusion of the necessary amount of air on which the activity of the soil considered as a laboratory for the pro vision of plant food depends. When the soil is drained, the superfluous water flows off through tbe air canals, and only so much moisture is retained as can be absorbed by tbo minuter pores within the small particles of earth ; and as there is, then, free comm'u-' nication through these canals between the pores and the drains, it is evident that .the water will be withdrawn from the soil, ex cept that which is held by capillary attrac tion. Thus the rain, which falls upon and is ' absorbed by the surface ground, percolates towards the drainage level, flushing every crevice and canal in its descent, leaving behind it the nutritive ingredients which it carries in suspension or in solution, on which the plants can feed as it passes by their roots, or which the soil, acting as a \ filter, extracts and appropriates. ,:- The object of land drainage is not merely to render wet ground sufficiently dry for - tillage operations, but so to regulate the . passage of moisture that, while the soil ; shall nave every facility for absorbing the ■' necessary quantity, stagnation, and the '■ consequent starvation of the plants,_ shall be prevented. Almost all lands require it, in whole or in part, and there are few fields ; which can be economically cultivated with out draining some part of them. The causes which wet the soil of any field . requiring drainage must first be considered. When these are understood, it will be easy \ to decide upon the best means of providing a remedy. But in this consideration the I strata of the district must be taken into ,-. account, as well as the contour of the sur- . face, and the texture of the soil and subsoil ! of the particular field. H the surface of ' the ground be level, and the structure of . the soil uniform, the drains may be arranged , at regular intervals apart, with the feeders j at right angles to the mains, and the neces sary slope must be gained by cutting up wards from a sufficiently deep outfall. In any cose tho mains must be placed at the ■ lowest level, delivering into a ditch "-or . brook, and the minor drains should run into : them in the direction of the inclination of • the ground. When the inclination of the ' surface varies, though there should be suffi cient fall for discharge if the drains-.were ! cut throughout to a uniform depth, yet it is necessary to observe a sufficient uniformity of fall in the pipes to hinder any risk of a deposit of mud in any part of their course. H the substrata consist of layers of various retentive power, their relative positions must be regarded in the arrangement of the drains. Instead of following rigid rules for fixing the proportionatedepthsond distances of drains in bght and heavy soils, we must determine these points. by reference to the thickness and order of the substrata no less than by the character or texture of the soil itself. . , , ~ Practically these are determined by dig ging holes four feet deep here and there in a field, and taking a drain of the intended depth up the field in their neighbourhood. The holes will fill with water if the land needs draining; and the effect of the drain in emptying them at distances of three, five, and seven yards, etc., will indicate twice that measure as the proper interval to be adopted between the drains. If the upper bed be retentive, and of such depth that the drains cannot be cut com pletely through it, the bestsystemto adopt will be that ol comparatively shallow drains at close intervals; and, on the\contrary,,a pervious material should have deeperdrains* at wider intervals. If a thin bed of clay rests upon a porous substratum, the drains may be cut into the latter, or through it, according to its depth, and they must then be laid at frequent intervals. When the case occurs, as it sometimes does, that a free supersoil, about three feet in depth, overlies a comparatively thin bed of clay, it is often advisable to limit the depth of the drains to that of the porous bed. When springs, which are fed from a higher level, lie immediately below a clay substratum which bxceeds the practicable depth of the drains, recourse may be had to tapping, by means of an auger-hole or vertical bore, which will Open communication to the drains by which the contents of the springs may be carried off, ond the liability to mischief caused by their bursting forth at a lower level will be prevented. The drainage of wet and deep boggy land is a gradual process, requiring some times years of patience before success is attained. Frequent open ditches should, at first, be out as deep as the sides will stand, and then gradually deepened as the land subsides, taking care always to keep them well cleaned out. When the land has become sufficiently consolidated, the usual pipe drains may be put in, but they should be laid rather beyond the depth which would be thought necessary in a firmer soil of the same nature. If the moss will not carry the ordinary pipes, it will be advantageous to use collars with them, in order to prevent their displacement. Marshes, and even lakes, which occupy a bowl-shaped cavity, rendering drainage by the ordinary means impracticable, have often been successfully drained by boring or digging through the impermeable surface layer where it is not thick, and rests upon a porous substratum of sufficient depth to receive the water and drain it from the surface. But this method must not be tried without due attention to the disposition of the sectional strata of the district, for the porous soil may be surcharged with water From a higber level, and the proposed cure might only prove an aggravation of the existing evil. In that case the object may be obtained by cutting adeep ditch or canal through the bank on a level with the bottom of the lake. In ordinary practice it is the texture of the soil and subsoil, and the nature Of the slope, which determine the proper depth ana distance of drains. Deep drains are longer in beginning to flow 5 but, if the soil is porous, they will carry off the surface water* after heavy rains, sooner thain shallow drains. They also drain a greater bulk of the soil, and allow the water time to deposit the particles of mould and manure, Which it carries down from the surface of the ground. In on open soil, which the water penetrates freely, the drain will draw from 1 long distances, if the depth is great; trot !in stiff, compact soils, percolation is more 1 difficult, and the drains will drew from a smaller-distance than in free andjpjgeh' soils * -where tbe water finds a ready escape.' No I amount of depth will compensate for, exces i sive distance on compact soil, because the , material either resists the passage of the 1 water altogether, or the removal;is so slow ! that the drainage is worthless. . ' [ The requirements of vegetation must .deo 3 be considered in determining the proper b depths r>. drains, and the depths to which the rootlet-^ of the plants penetrate may f afford some indication of how far the, fret 1 subjacent water should be permitted below r the surface. Asits availability for "then r supply will be regulated by the porosity ol ... ._. „- T -__» yl^.__-~~.*.-, ,,.:j,i_,.^_i*,_---Mh_<i:">ill'iU_',lK_-_K___il

', the soil, the-bottom of the drains may be at a less distance from the roots on a "heavy - soil than on a light ono. In dry Bummers, ; grass land especially is sometimes liable to ' injury, owing to the land being dried below the rootlets, which the capillary power o| , the soil is thus unable to feed. - -,■'■■_ ;. Another circumstancewbich will occasion« ally have an influence in regulating thai depth is the degree of slope which can bos , obtained, according to the surface levels of: the district. Theoretically, water will flow; if. there is but the smallest possible -devia tion from a horizontal line j but, in practice, . this is not sufficient, for it supplies a per-; * fectly smooth and regular bed, a condition which cannot be expected to exist in•■ land j ! drains. The water should not pas! too ■ quickly through the soil before it has time „ | to deposit its nutritrive ingredients, bht ] _ neither should it be allowed to stagnate, as j it will do if the drains aro deeper than it ! can readily permeate, or if the fall is in-; £ sufficient to induce a free discharge. When g1 the drains are sufficiently active they will I not allow the water to stand for any length i of time on the surface after them ost heavy .. : rains. For purposes of cultivation tho -.- ' drains should seldom, if ever, belaidata •. | less depth than three feet from the surface fc of the ground. In grass lands two. asa'&'<*. F half feet may be sufficient, but where all ,•. J otber circumstances are favourable, ,thtea ? : feet should be the minimum depth. .... j| The dimensions found most efficient vi >, actual practice vary from three feet to fivfl ! i feet in depth, and from fifteen feet tp thirty-, j six feet apart, according to the^closeness xxm j porosity of the soil, and the cost! of cutting,; j placing the tiles, and refilling, varies, from: j sd. to lOd. gerrod, according, to, the. depth, : j of the drain and tbe hardness of j the sub; { stratum. ',-- ' . ' | Thelayingof the pipes should be entrusted " to a careful workman, who is paid day's"; wages, as more attention in the performance ;-." , of the work is thus ihsui^.'Uum when it ia\ j done by the drainer at piece-work. ~.-'. . . It is very important that the pipes should be large enough for tbe quantity of water , ' they have to discharge. If the fall is :c6n-.:g siderable, a pipe of less dimensions will : suffice than where thei inclination is smaller. In jraotice, after tbe depth and interval of the intended drainage have been determined: by trial holes in the manner described, and;, after any particular springs of water haW. been.dealt with by special conduits taJcbn s through the wet spots thus created, add after all old water channels htive been fur-:: nished with pipes laid at sufficiejil-^ejpths,-.: and properly filled in, the sygtefnatio araib-1 age of a field which needvtfie operation is ; begun at the lowest"lejjri_u it. The ditch :.J is cleaned out by smiob the water is tO,.| escape. The main-drain is dug from a ',; point six to eigWnnohes above the,bottom..* of the ditch, along the lower edge of ■ t_ie£* field, paralleiypth its side, frbtd Which itf| may be distent five yards, or more, And.a. j:. deep (to at least four feet) as possible^ Into this drain tbe minor drains deliver Over tho , top of the four to six-inch pipes, which aro placed in.it; These minor'drains, at a'ii depth which has been resolved upon, aro',J taken right up the slope, unless.it be very steep, and two-inbh pipes!are!placed ' IrifJl them. If the field is more thin two hundred yards long, there should be a;fsecond' main. ,?J drain crossing it midway'of 'its length, into' :.S which the upper series oft-minor drains <: deliver. The pipes: should be' carefully | placed and carefully covered with the earth (J taken out. It is hot necessary to put straw dm or turf over them before the earth which .'J? has been token out is replaced If there is A any considerable remainder Of theTearth, it ||! should be spread on the land, all stones ■ i being removed; and the ,turf, which' in: -i pastures has been first dugout, should, as -1;, soon as the earth has settled sufhcieritlyj bo •:•*< replaced and rolled down; and' the-work ; ;^| may then be considered complete,' It Will at often be possible to economize the labour .jf; by sending a plough along the line of each*. drain to turn out the i first six-inches by >»| horse power. A double furrow--will :ba . necessary to open up the work efficiently; - and in the case of grass lands the ploughing i. will be more effective if it be not too deep. ■, And then these furrow slices,' thrown out, ".; on either'side without being detached from 'A the hind, can be brought together over tho * ■ ] finished "drain and rolled down. But tho operation cannot be considered * complete. :;,*| without careful provision for ite'perinanenco by a properly built outfall. The last .pipe. '- } of the main should pass through brickwork -3 whose foundation is laid below the level of ,'.*. the bottom of tbe ditch, and it should ba , protected by a flap or grid' And-tho exit water should fall-from-this opening on a slab of stone laid on the bottom of tho. ditch, so as to hinder any riskof under mining the brickwork by its continual fall. Tbe cost per acre of land-draining is more generally covered by- the consequent : increased value of the land than that of any other agricultural improvement. Whatever^.,-■» the interval or depth, the expense depends . . on the character of .the soil or subsoil, the..,': local rate of wages, the cost of the tiles and - - the distance of the. kiln.— The Soil of the v - Form. ':'■■]"' . "- " ■''-'.-

Osage Orange as a Hedge Plant.

A correspondent of the Southern Culti. &II vajtor, an American agricultural journal, has m a strong objection to the use of the osago '. | orange, or Jot's d'etre for farm hedges; '"■■''AHi . he is plainly writing.from practical ojcperi-,..! enoe bis remarks ore worth noting by thoso New Zealand farmers who may be about to ' try the osage orange as _ hedge -plant, 1 g He says, "We haVe many hundreds>:of| | miles of bois d'arc hedges through this,'the . | black belt of our State, that cost our people ; many thousands of dollars, and yet I doubt ! §j not there is' not a planter who would_*io&||S gladly give double what it cost him to buy, ; 1 the seed, raise the scions, plant and culti-. ■*•£ vate the hedge, to exterminate the -lasfi,.";'' vestige of it from his plantation, ' But once|j se . itis thereforever, and every year.it || encroaches farther and farther into the land on either side, until in'a few years there is, VSj a strip of land on each side from thirty ta 1 fifty yards wide, so 'utterly impoverished-11 that nothing, ->'not -even. Worthless weeds,- i grows upon- it. I said %hey were ineradi- :b% cable, yet not entirely so; you can grub the ci; up, and every spring go over it again, dig-.. . gmg up what nave put ; up from._heifew'v.t rootsyou left in ti_t ground. Three .years .?-*; ago i had a short piece' of hedge. near my p' house that I wished to destroy. I cut it down, piling all the brush over the stumps,. together with a great deal of other brush from an old orchard near by,-and when dry I burnt it off clean. , I have sprouted that hedge row five' different, times, •very* year "bj since, or fifteen times in all, and now thero are sprouts on it from one to three feet high, - ■ as dry as last fall was; stili, some.ofitha - stumps are dead, and I have seen, howr'ahd then, a whole hedge die out entirely. Barb wire at six and one-fourth cents a pound is,'.'' a far better and cheaper stock?fence;than:,' * any hedge, or even the old worm rail fence.-'; ..'■

A Convenient Pasture.

A r_sTU_E close to the farm buildings is a great convenience, and will save much valu able time during thg. busy season. !;Tha' -.' work horses may be^turoed into such a .' pasture in the evening after they hayo •-■ eaten: their ration of- hay and conn .It is. -'■ an eagy matter to bring the horses in again ■_■' in tbe morning for their feed, before it is time for work. -The cows may go to v. the' ; back feedinggtound.for the day, and into.l the front pasture to pass the night./ Boys - who are tired from hard work through the ' day appreciate the convenience of a pasture - close by the, milking ground. The. cows"* are more contented iPkept hear the barns ' at night. Tho gates and other entrances , to this night pasture should be arranged to save all possible steps, both from the horso stable and the milking yard. Some'may ■ object to having horses and cows in the ;. same field, but the writer1 has cdncluded; lifter several years' experience, that there is ' no danger with ' any ordinary : animals, i Young stock of all kinds, will be safer if". kept from the old in a separate pasture. .',*• This convenient night pasture should be permanent, and furnish good feeding to the horses and cows throughout the whole : season, ■- It; therefore needs to be kept: in good heart. If naturally rich, the droppings from the animals will keep up the fertility ■ for several years. A man Vitb a manure is. 1 pick or- mallet should. go - oyer 'tho pasture i each spring, and loosen and scatter 'the 1 droppings. Tbe mallet consists of a block Ii of wood a foot long,' square at one endWtad pointed at the other,, into Whicb a stent handle is fastened hear the middle; A top dressing of well-rotted manure '' should be given every; two or three years,V i or, still better, a light dressing each winter. | A hundred pounds of nitrate of Soda per " acre in early spring aids greatly in giying a i vigorous start to the young grass.1 fi cOarso % weeds appear,, they should be rooted out; ) before they become' thoroughly established I i; or ripenany seed.. A flowing spring in »•: * central location ik'bf great value m any 1 ' pasture,' and ' especially here where cows' * may drink after being milked, ,and.again 5 early m' the morning. -It Will also save * "■ much labour in watenng the horses, beforo; f and After work. * If'a flowing .pringoahnofc: .. be found, the next; best water-supply fca - * wdl\mthh'W_d-n_illpump, '■■ r A pasture properly manured, kept frco h -fr6m weeds,;and thickly seodsdwith alargo 9 variety of grassfes, -may be as pettnahent <"> and profitable as any field on the farm, f I The night pasture does hot-enter "intoitha '" I regular rotation adopted for the other fields., if I — American Agriculturist.' .. ■: ■■ -> —-■-■■ -,--:-'- [ ii'ii'iiiiiitaftfflmaßi

THE Ag(.Kl..^ SATT.KDAY;ffgfljg _% IS&4.

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