A WOMAN'S FAITH: OR, THE Mystory of a Bunch of Pansies.

By CHARLES T. MANN£HS,

AUTHOR OF

Tho Lord of Lylc," " Octavia's Pride." " Tho Blonkarne Emeralds," "The Flaw in the Diamond," " Dragging Him Down."

" A Silver Brand," &c. &c.

CHAPTER 111. CHAPTER V. (Continuedj.

"Ridiculous boy!'1 muttered Hortense, contemptuously. The elder lady sat gazing thoughtfully upon tlio floor, and was so long silent that Hortanso crept to her side and asked : "You are not heeding his jealous, spite ful insinuations against Konradc, grand mamma. Tell me you are not minding them?" The thin white hand was laid fondly upon her bright head, smoothing down its rippling tangles of ourly hair. "Don't think too hardly of Frederic, my dear. If he really loves" you, it must be hard to Rive you up quietly. lam pained tD '.earn that he has cherished that old folly. I believed it was simply a brotherly attach ment, suitable to your relationship, that brought him here so frequently.'' And again she foil into a deep reverie. Hortense watched her a few moments, and then flitted away to the window, and Stood there with her bright cheek pressed against the cool glass with one hand toying idly wit li a spray from the stand of blossoms. Presently she gave a little cry of delight. __ " Konrade is coming ! Oh, grandma. Kor.rade is coming up the avenue.'' And she was darting from the room. When the dowager's calm, chiding voice restrained her. ■■ Hortense, Hortense, do not rush to meet him in this hoiden fashion. Try to remember that you are a Mildmay, child, and therefore to lie- sought, and not wantonly [lung at any one's feet." "Oh, "but lam .<=,". glad—so glad to set him !" cried the girl, pausing reluctantly, and turning her bright, beautiful face again toward the window" " So also should he he to meet you, deai child. You must learn to control youi emotion*. Hortense. Let him pay his resneets to me first, as is proper." The fresh red lips were only more charm ing for the tiny pout that curved their full ness, as the Lady Hortense dropped into a chair half petulantly, and waited her lover* appearance. hue hoard the servant's approach, and the eager feet behind, and all her gladness shone out io her face, despite the other's warning. And the handsome young gentleman who promptly appeared gave as bright a glance toward her. " Hortense, my darling," began he, eagerly, and was by her side with both little fluttering hands clasped tight in his before he perceived that the apartment owned an other occupant. "Mr Earle," spoke the dowager, in the most courtly tones. Still holding his betrothed by one hand, the new comer advanced to meet her. " 1 beg your pardon, madame. I was not aware of your presence. But I have a fair excise. How could 1 sec beyond this deal girl? 1 trust I rind you in good health and spirits." " Quito as well as usual, thank you. But you—air you not pale and thin?" '■A little—l have been ill." " 111 ! Oh, Konrade !" And there was another gurgling cry, and two lily white hands clasped themselves over his, quite in defiance of the dowager code. "My darling. Did you hear when one wild midnight my soul sent out what it believed to he an agonized farewell to you ?" he asked, looking down fondly into the bright, tender face. "Ah, and I never knew—that is cruel. •vKonrade, you must never go again unless I hear often and know just where you are. Whore were you? You did not tro down to Wales ?" The blue cyeii fixed ko tenderly upon his saw the quick shade which crossed his face. " Never mind all that, deare-t, I am here now, safe and well," was the light, evasive answer. " Hut you were not In Wales, were you ?" persisted she, thinking now of her cousin Frederic's accusation. "Ko—l changed my mind." " He is no liar," was her triumphant in ward comment. Aloud she said, proudly : " You must toll me all about it—every word presently. Mind, it is not idle curiosity, i have my excellent reasons." "Idle curiosity ! I should hope not," re turned he, playfully. "1 coald not bear that my Hortense should ho a weak and silly Fatima. On the second thought, 1 believe 1 shall keep my whole expedition secret." " Oh, no, not if I have good reasons," nho persisted, clinging to his arm anil smiling archly into his face. The same scarcely perceptible cloud swept across his eyes. "And what If I have good reasons for withholding the same?" he returned, gently. " But that oould hardly be—ah !" The last exclamation was occasioned by the opening door, and the most unexpected appearance of Frederic Mildmay, introduc ing n stranger, a well-dressed, modest-look ing young man, but with nn eye keen and searching as a Hawk's, which lit up triumph antly as it fell upon the handsome face of KonYade Earle. "1 be; your pardon, ladies, for this un ceremonious entrance, but J ventured to bring this gentleman in without .-ending up Hawley to announce our approach. This i- Mr Chester Harris. Madame Mildmay, an American lawyer, who wished very much to see Mr Konrade Earle," spoke Frederic, glibly, not without a certain triumphant look toward his fair cousin, who returned a dctinni glance and moved a little nearer her lover. "Mr Harris?" repeated the latter, in a questioning tone. " 1 don't remember the name.'' And he faced the new-comer with a smile that was inimitable acting, if it was not actual innocence. "Quite probable, my dear sir," said Harris, quietly. " 1 daro say you did not heed my name. Nevertheless I have met you frequently—in Mr Aspinwall's otlice, you know : also once or twice at Col. Rivera's club-room." Wider "amazement dilated the young gentleman's eyes. " You are using still stranger name?, sir. I must conclude that you have made some mistake," ho said in a respectful tone. "I hardly think the mistake is on mj side, sir. I followed you over from America in the next steamer." A quick flash of perplexity—or was it chr.grin and annoyance?—crossed the face of Konrado Earl^but was gone again in a moment. He looked around upon the attentive, watchful faces with a faint smile.

" All this is very odd," he said. " I wish Jie gentleman would state for whom he lakes me, and what is his business." " Frederic," spoke up the dowager icily, " you brought the gentleman hither. Please ;o explain." "It will take but a few words to do it," declared Chester Harris, firmly. "I call bhe young man Con way Searle. That is the name by which ho is known in America. He took an abrupt leave of our shores some two months ago, and his friends are very anxious about him." "What folly!' declared the other con temptuously. "These peoplo can nil as sure you that I am no American, that my name is Konrado Earle. I neither know you, sir, nor recognise the names you re- ' peat." It was genuine indignation that fired Chester Harris's eye and thrilled his voice. Even generous, fervid Hortense acknow ledged that, and shivered when ho cried : " Shame upon you, man ! Will you also deny poor Helena Yerrington's name ? Do you disclaim tho love you won from her ?" " The shame is your own, to speak in this way before these noble ladies, in tho pres ence of my affianced wife !" returned Kon rade Earle, fiercely. "Madame Mildmay, I assure you this is a most inexplicable scene. I have no idea what it means, un less " —he turned angrily toward Sir Fred eric—" it is the concocted plot of some envious or malignant enemy." " Ho mistakes you for some one else," suggested madame. " Such things have frequently oceured." '"He has not answered mo yet," spoke Harris, calmly. '"Has he recently re turned from America? Did he ever hear before the name of Helena Yerrington ?" Every eye was upon his face, and it paled to an almost deadly hue ; but he answered, solemnly : "My name is Konrade Earle. I neither know this man nor the people of whom he speaks. Further than this I scorn to answer. I take it an honourable English gentleman is not to bo bullied in this house by a machinating; lawyer, bo he American or English. Madame Mildmay, will you excuse me if I retire ? Lady Hortense, will you favour me with your company?" The girl put her hand into his promptly, but Sir Frederic saw the shadow brooding over the sunny blue eyes, and heeded less on that account the grateful look her lover cast upon her. "I think, Frederic, you may take your visitor with you to the Heronry. Mildmay Terrace belongs to "is, and its guests are chosen ones always,'' declared the dowager. Sir Frederic bowed silently, and beckoned his companion to follow him, and neither lost time in leaving the room and descend ing the great stone stops that led to the avenue. " Well ?" said the former, when they were again on tho highway, turning to the American with a dubious look. "He is the most consummate scoundrel and the most inimitable actor I ever knew !" declared Chester Harris, wrathfu'.ly, " or " " Well ? w quoth Sir Frederic, impatiently. " Or—l am the greatest fool on the globe." " And see what faith he claims from Lady Hortense Mildmay !" groaned Sir Frederic. " And what unswerving devotion poor Helena Yerrington cherishes for his un worthy sake! Well,;well, I confess that such effrontery staggers me. Nevertheless, I will dig and delve, but I shall wrest from him such indisputable facts as must con vince every one."

CHAPTER. VI. FLIUHT. "FopK months ago!" murmured Helena Yerrington, and gave a dreary, dreary sigh. Oh ! it seems as many years, and 1 cannot realise that I am the same girl—that 1 was ever the glad light-hoarted creature who went so joyfully to the gardens on that fatal morning." " Poor child !' observed Mrs Marchmont, quickly, though well aware that the speaker had been unconscious of her presence. " You are fighting against fate. Resign yourself to the current of events, Helena, and all will be peaceful again. The man is gone—somehow—somewhore : but there is no fault or blame attached to you. Cease brooding over his memory. Put him out of your thoughts, if possible, and you will bo surprised to find how soon tranquility and happiness will return." Helena shook her head slowly. " Perhaps my nature is unliko yours, Mrs Marchmont. Ido not forget at the bidding of my will, and I would not if I could. But I am weary, very weary, of this dead silence. It almost, seems that I cannot bear it longer. I thought to hear from one of tho detectives before this." As an immediate answer to her words, a door communicating with tho library was flung open, and Col. Rivers entered, an open letter in his hand. A single glance at his face showed her its import, and Helena sprang from her seat, crying out: " At last ! They have found him !" " Yes, my poor child ! And will you credit tho truth now ?" A low, gasping nigh fluttered through her pallid lips as she sank back again into the chair, speechless. But an authoritative gesture bade him go on, and Col. Rivers proceeded, though somewhat reluctantly : "The letter is from Harris, in England. He found indubitable proof that this Kon rnde Earle arrived in the very steamer which was presumed to carry Conway Searle. Ho tracked the name and indivi dual very easily, and found, as he exacted, that this Konrade Karlo was tho living image of the lost Searle. A motive is also presented for the man's treacherous be haviour. This Konrade Earlo is about to marry a lady of rank ami wealth, and tho engagement is of recent announcement. The heartless scoundrel amused himself with you, Helena, nr.d left you. Call up your pride, dear child, and never vouchsafe him .•mother regretful thought."

" Let mo sec the letter," ".-poke she, bus kily, after a moment's dead silence that, had made volatile Mrs Marohmonf shiver.

Col. Rivers laid if in her lap and walked tothowindow. His sister, with less delicacy, sat staring into her face, watching every change there.

The girl read it through slowly, search '"gly> as if weighing every word written there.

"Mr Harris believes that ho has found the truth. Ido not doubt that," sho said gravely, lifting one hand to draw it wearily across her forehead, "I wish lie hail waited for the proposed interview before writing. I should like to know this Konrado Earlc's refutation of his charges." " You cannot mean that you rofuse to concur in his conclusions, Helena?" spoke up the colonel, sharply. "You are not insane enough to deny that mass of testi mony?"

She smiled mournfully

" I know nothing about this Konrado Earle, guardian. How can I judge him ? But Conway Searle I did know. My heart answers for his honour and integrity."

" l'erverse, misguided girl !" cried out the colonel, with increased vexation. " Your conduct is inexplicable. Havo you no woman's pride, that you allow your love to be played with in this wanton fashion and then contemptuously cast aside ? Did you not hear that the man is engaged to a beau

tiful young lady, whoso rank and wealth out-weighed your claims '!" " That man is Konrade Earlo. I toll you I have no knowledge of him. It is Conway Searlo upon whose faithfulness to me I reply so implicitly. If ho is alive to-day, 1 know his heart is true and loyal," she returned, firmly.

" But do you not read that Harris showed your Conway Searle's portrait to those English friends, and they all recognised it as this Konrado Earlo? Doos not Harris aver that tho two men aro too much alike to fail of the sumo idontity ? Helena ! Helena ! how can you sot your self so wilfully against tho judgment of your best friends? How can you bo so unkind— ay, so ungrateful, to your guardian ?"

This indignant appeal touched her more deeply than ho meant. " Alas, alas !" cried sho, bitterly, while a hot flood of tears gushed over her pale cheoks. "I am cruelly hedged in by gitiles* circumstances. I do fool it keenly, olonol Rivors, that our opinions are at variance. Ido grieve that 1 am unable to repay your kindness to me. Most of all I feel bowed down by tho knowledge that I am indebted to your bounty for tho very food and shelter I accept horo in future. I would you had not withheld the truth so long. I would you had checked my thoughtless extravagances—had shown mo plainly how my fortune had diminished, before it was too late for remedy."

" DonM: pain me by the slightest allusion to it, my child," he said in gentler tones. "What indeed should I care for my own wealth, if it did not contribute to your en joyment ?"

" Yes, indeed, Helena, he speaks tho truth there," interposed Mrs Marchmont. " I have known for years that all his hopes and plans ceittered in you. It does seem as if he deserved some reward from you at last. Toll her the truth, Charles, the whole truth. She is too generous, 1 know, to fail of seeing that it will be her duty to accept tho happy solution of this vexatious scandal which you can offer."

As she spoke the lady nodded significantly to hor brother, gathered up her embroidery and books, and glided away, leaving a clear field for his improvement of her hint.

Helena Yerrington turned her bewildered eyes to her guardian.

He flushed crimson, and then grow very pale. But a bright gleam leaped into his eyes, and ho came hastily forward.

"Helena," he said, tenderly, "Heaven knows when I should have ventured to speak but for this speech of Clara's, which leaves me no alternative. Dear Helena, will you go back to the past a little? Will you recall the time when your dying father implored his boyhood's friend to take charge of his friendless child ? You do not know how weighty a responsibility it seemed to me—how I shrank from the trust —nor have I ever hinted it. But I did my best to fulfil my promise to my friend. I gave every thought to the accomplishment of my trust in the most faithful manner. I said tho orphan girl should not miss her father's love and care before I dreamed how sweet and precious the fulfilment of the resolution might become. Have I failed, Helena ? Until this woeful blight came were you not a joyous, glad-hearted girl, who had trust and faith in her guar dian's affection, who did not sorely miss her lost parents ?" " Oh, you have been generous and kind, fuardy ! I have never, never doubted it. would I might repay one-half I owe you !" faltered the girl, while her tears ilowed softly.

" But you havo never dreamed —and I have taken pains to hide from you—how closely tho beautiful young girl has grown into the grim, silent guardian's heart. Oh, Helena, Helena ! these giddy boys cannot dream of the power and depth of a man's love • Every hope and aspiration of my life is twined with yours ; every throb of my heart is for you. I love you, Helena, so that life, light, and joy drop from me when I part from you. Y'ct I have held a stern control over myself. ' I will not be selfish,' I said. 'She shall not be bound by my devotion ; let her choose freely for herself.' Can you see my anguish, my agony, now that this precious jewel I would give the wide world, and my life it self, to win, is flung down at a villain's feet to be contemptuously spurned aside ? Can you understand a man's rage to hear babbling tongues making free with the name that is the dearest and noblest to his ears ? Helena, pardon me that I venture— for your own sako even more than my own, madly as I love you, I solemnly declare— that I venture to ask you to silence all these gossiping tongues, to heal this cruel wound and bitter slight by becoming my wife?"

His voice grew hoarse and tremulous, his tall frame shook with the tremor of his great agitation and suspense. Ho bent down to her imploringly.

Helena Yorrington looked at him with wild dilated eyes that seemed to face some deadly peril.

"Colonel Rivers —guardy—oh, I never, never dreamed of this," she articulated, faintly.

" No, my darling ; and had your happi ness required it so, you never should have known it. I would have hugged tho cruel secret close, thanking its deadly talons if they had but speedily released my life. But now—now that your honour and well being concur witli my fondest hopes—oh, my Helena,my one treasure worth winning, my darling, my precious one, tell me, can you not yield yourself to my love, trust yourself for life to my care ?"

He said truly. No young lover ever pleaded with such impassioned,solemn earn estness.

Helena Yorripgton's heart seemed chilling into ice, but her mind was alert and quick.

"Conway Searle is lost, vanished like a dream. My life is wrecked at its best. Shall I refuse to accept this friendly help that shall lift all anxiety and care out of my existence? Oh, shall I dare to stab so merciless a blow upon the one heart that has been true, and faithful, and devoted. Can I bo ho cruel, ungrateful, thankless?"

These were the swift thoughts that took possession of her mind. Selfish griefs, and hopes, jind fears made way momentarily for tlie great wish of sympathy for his long concealed and fiercely burning passion.

" Guardy, guardy !" she faltered, "I am so weak and weary ; all the light and spirit seem washed out of mo with all these bitter tears. Am I worth taking? Can I givo anything fit to recompense a love ho forvont as yours?"

"1 will count it tho richest gift, tho most priceless possession,"ho cried, eagerly, a rosy glow Hashing over his face. "Oh, Helena, I will deal so tenderly with you that must loam to love me in return. Darling, darling, don't keop mo in suspense Sco how I tremble. Give mo my answer, Helena, in mercy."

" In gratitude rather,"she answered, with strango, slow, reluctant accents.

But she leaned toward him. Sho hold out her languid hands for him to take.

Colonel Kivors felt tho glad, triumphant leap of his quivering heart. Sho was his, at last. With a face all aglow with passion ate joy he bent over hor.

It was such a brief instance, so fraught with fate. He gnashed his tooth in im potent rage afterward, remembering that upon the dropping of that one golden sand the odious interruption should come.

"If you pleaso, sir. A stranger has just loft this box for Miss Yerrington," .spoke the glib voico of a servant, who never knew why his master, from that hour hated the very sight of his faco and the faintest accent of his speech.

Helena sprang up, thankful for a moment's respite, and took the box eagerly, lifting off tho white cover, and tearing aside tho laco paper that wrapped its con tents.

A moment after there was a quick sob, and Colonel Rivers turned to find her stand ing, white as a marble statue, with a buuch of pansies in her hands.

"Conway, Conway !" sho criod, wildly, searching over tho box, the papers, the flowovs theinsolves, for a singlo scraj. of writing and finding nothing but tho penciled address, evidently in the gardener's scrawling handwriting : "To bo taken to No. 10 St., for Miss Yorrington."

The sight of the flowers was like a knife stab to the colonel's heart.

" Good heavons ! good heavens !" ho ar ticulated, in torror-stricken tones, and ono hand crept to his hreast, and clutched at a tiny packet that by day and night now was hidden there-.

But ho recovered himself promptly. "It i.s a coincidence, dour Helena, no thing more," declared he. But his voice shook, and his eyo no longer sought hers. "It is four months today since Conway promised mo the punsies," said Helena, and tho silvery voice was almost tierce in sharp ness. "1 toll you the flowers have then meaning, Colonel Rivers. Don't touch them ; don't touch mo, please. Let me go —oh, let me go !"

And, slipping through the hands that would have detained her, holding tho pansier close to her heart, she vanished from the room.

The colonel strode to and fro with a black brow and hands clenched wrathfully. '• Have I lost her— have I lost her, just aa I was about to clasp her to my heart?" he groaned. " And those fatal, fatal liowers —dare 1 believe—? Tush, tush ! it is im possible ! Harris could not be mistaken! 1 will not make a haunting spectre of such a trivial happening. Perhaps some shallow coxcomb whom sho has* sometimes slighted took this ignoble way to bo revenged. All the world knows the significance of pansies for her now. lie was a villain, and I acted rightly. Yes, I acted rightly, as tho guardian of her happiness should have done."

But even while he tried to say this last to himself in bold and confident tone, liis heart quailed and his teeth chattered.

Meanwhile, locked securely from intrusion, Helena sat in tho privacy of her chamber, staring blankly at the fresh, fair faces of the pansies, inhaling their delicate perfume, and now and then questioning of the wit less blossoms, with wildly flaming eyes, the secret that they mutely brought

It was some little tirao boforo tho idea of questioning the well-known gardener, whose label hud borno hor address, dawned upon her mind. Whon it did, she sprang up, and, with feverish ha.stn, dressed herself for tho street, and flung a thick, brown veil over her face, cautiously descending tho stairs and gaining the outer door without drawing attention from either servants master or mistress.

Sho walked with rapid, nervous step;, and, in turning tho corner of the square, jostled the shoulder of another pedestrian equally impetuous who wa* coming in the opposite direction.

".Mr (freen," o.xclaimed she, the moment she lifted her eyes to the stranger's face, " you are coming with news. lam Miss Yerrington. Toll mo at once !" She threw up hor veil that ho might recognise her face, and Si (Ireen answered, promptly :

" I've been on the wrong scent, mann, and I've run it into the ground. Never you mind—there's better luck waiting for next time."

"Have you seen Mr Stone? Have you heard what Chester Harris thinks lie has discovered ?" she asked, breathlessly. "Not a wool, inarm. I was just coming to see you afore the rest."

"That was kind. Let me full you about his letter."

Si Green listened attentively

"Sho, now, that's a purty story." was his slow comment. " And please, inarm, toll me what you think about it ?"

" That it is all a mistake," she answered, wistfully. " But let me tell you the rest about the pan.iieH that came today, and what I think they mean."

" I'll take stock with you. I reckon your right. The pansies are a trump card. Say now, Miss Yerrington, will you let me pick up thin clue in my own fashion." he asked, eagerly, when she had related the little incident.

It cost her an effort to relinquish her own inquiry, but, after a moment's reflection, she consented.

" I'll send you word to-night if I get the first mite of satisfaction out of the posy iiiiin," ho reiterated ; " but I'll follow up the pansies some way, don't you go to doubting of that. And keep up heart, miss. The Lord has orphans in Mis keeping more'n the sparrows, that's sartain. There's a sight of comfort thinking that 'ere."

The honcHt creature's sympathy comforted the girl. Sho turned back, cheered by a new, if a vaguo hope.

Almost at the door-steps she met a news boy, and, without knowing why, she bought one of his still damp papers, and went with it to the Bolitudo of her chamber.

Still mochanicnlly she unfolded the paper and spread it upon tlio couch, and leaning her head upon her hands, sat Btaringblindiy over its columns, without interpreting a single word.

The head drooped lower and lower, and a throng of bitter thought came surging upon her. This newly discovered love of her guardian's menaced her with a ttcsii trouble. Hard and humiliating washer position now. Life indeed was a stormy sea, and almost, it seemed, that its billows had gone over her and swept her from every stable hold.

Presently her listless oyon caught n line upon the paper, the heading oil a special ndvortisment. New life and interest flashed over her face. Seizing the paper with both hands, she read the paragraph through twice.

" It opens a now hopo to me," she mur mured, softly, then hurried on her hat and shawl again, and slipped out into the .street once more.

Two hours elapsed before her return. But then her eye \vas steady, and her face hopeful, though very grave. She found Jlrs Marchmont wondering over her absence.

"I was rjiiito alarmed, Holenn, to find your room empty, and no truce of you in tho houso. lam so anxious to hear your decision. Thoro is poor Charles walking the library like a frantic person. Pray send mo down to tell him that his faithful devotion is to bo rewarded at last."

" I was restless and nervous hits dono mo good," roplicd Helena " Ami you iirogoing to ben dear, sensible girl and prove your firaiitudo for nil hia dovotion to you? (iivo mo that little crumb of comfort to carry to him."

my walk

" 1 cannot answer to-night," was tho low reply. " Komcmbor what this day brings to mind, dear Clura."

" But you must aeo that the old relation can go on no longor. This guardianship of his will never cover his j>assion again.

You two can nevor live togother hero in this houso as you have done.

" I know it."

And lower drooped tlio fair head, so that Mrs Marchmont's curiosity whs in a measure bullied, for the expression was hidden from her now.

" Ah," said she, in a tone of greater satis faction than she really folt, " then if you realise that, 1 am auro tliero can bo no question of your decision. I think your Jacob has paid a dearer price than the swains of nowadays allow, my dear, and you should bo correspondingly gracious. lam going out to dine, and sha'n't bo homo early. You may have as prolonged a lover's tete-a -tete as you please." " Not to-night. l'leaso say to him I niuat bo alono this evening. I beg to bo excused from dinnor. Tomorrow morning he shall havo his answer."

" That is not unreasonable. I will forbid him to molest you. You do look tired and worn. Let us hopo aftor this all this grief and troublo will pass away. Good-night, dear."

"Good-night, Clara. Ploaso, please don't think I am ungrateful; don't ever think that, will you ?"

" Certainly not, if you show that you aro not. There, dear, don't fret any more. I'll send Janet with somo tea and toast, and leave strict, order* that you are not molested. Good-night again, and hap pier dreams than you have known of late."

The wish did not probably bring its ful filment. When morning and its late break fast came, and Col. Rivera fidgeted and watched the door restlessly mid no Helena appeared, thelanguid mistress, sent up .Janet to waken her.

And presently Janet came Hying down with blanched cheeks and wide terrified eyes.

" Mon Dieu, madame, the room is empty ! There has been no one to sleep in it. Mademoiselle lielene is gone !" Col. Rivers thrust her out of his path with a tierce grip, and stalked through the. room before Mrs Marchmont could reply, They heard his quick, sharp tread upon the stairs, along the corridor, the clang of a rudely opened door, and then utter still-

ness. Poor little Clara Marchmont sat still, shuddering. She had known her brother once or twice in the white heat of a'igcr, and did not care to venture a further'ex perience. But presently alarm for hiHsafety gained the victory over terror of his dis pleasure, and she crept up to Helena's room, to lind the colonel standing bolt up right staring blankly at a little shred of pajMir on which was traced in hurried characters :

" Forgive me and forget if you can, but do not seek for me. H f.i.f.na." ('To be Continued)

An Indian Professional Poisoner.

To those who believe that the practice of thuggee has been completely put down in India, the story of Sharfu, or Sharif-ud-din, ■whose career of crime haa just terminated by his being sentenced to transportation for life, will come as an unpleasant revelation. Sharfu was the son of a butcher in a small village in the I'unjaub. At the age of eighteen, having quarrelled with his father, he left his native village, and attached him self to a party of horse-dealers. Ho then joined the Baroilly police, but was shortly afterwards sentenced to fifteen months' imprisonment for injuring his wife, whom ho had abducted. In the Bnreilly goal ho came into contact with Tikka Ram, the head of a band of poisoners in the North-West Provinces. On thuir recovering their liberty they resumed operations together, making their head-quarters in the town of Agra. After fix years' work of undetected crime, of which the details have not been revealed, the two fell out,and Sharfu joined the police force again, only, however, to be dismissed in a few months. It was after this occur rence that he resumed his operations as pro fessional poisoner on his own account. Jlis mode of working was simple. Disguising himself as a well-to-do native of Oude, he used to waylay and enter into conversation with those "natives of the province who hap pened to be returning with their savings. His favourite scene of operations was on the Grand Trunk Koad. Once ho had struck up a companionship with these unsuspect ing travellers, it wan an easy matter to take food with them, and Sharfu rarely failed to introduce the opium or dlwtnra needed to drug his victims, whom he speedily relieved of their savings. Most of tlieso unwary persons recovered when pursuit was useless, but many of them died. His opera tions between the years ISG7 and 1572 were particularly numerous and successful ; and official reports recognised the extent to which thuggee prevailed in the I'unjaub during that period. In July, 1881, his secret was revealed by Tikka Ham's wife, with whom he had been living with for fourteen years ; and he had only just sufficient warning to make a hurried retreat intit Uajpootana. There he renewed his old practices, and placed bin services at the dis posal of those who had inconvenient rela tives to got rid of, and who would pay handsomely for the dangerous work. He long bailled the pursuit of the officials, and it was not until the present year that he. was discovered, through the instrumentality ot Tikka Ham, undergoing a short term of imprisonment in Agra Gaol under a different name. Brought up for trial at Loodiana, ho admitted his guilt in % cases of murder or drugging, and was sentenced to death, which was afterwards modified to transpor tation for lifo.—" Times."

"Polly Wants Some Mutton."

Tin: sheep formers of I\'ew Zealand, says the "New York Times,'' are in a painful state of mind in regnrd to tlio kca, through the wickedness of which sheep farming in in process of destruction. Tlio kea is a native parrot sometimes as profane and vicious as any civilised parrot. Jle has acquired a taste for mutton, and refuses to eat any thing else. Whenever a flock of kens dis cover a ilock of sheep they fall upon the latter, loudly shrieking, " lolly wants some mutton," and perching on the backs of the unhappy shcop, tear them to pieces. The aggrieved sheep [farmers are now in search of somo animal that will extirpate the keas. No animal at present residing in New Zealand is willing to undertake the task, tho local cata especially being of the opinion that the kea is too largo to be considered a game bird. Whether larger and bolder cats can bo found is very doubtful. In all probability no animal will enter into any contract to extirpate the keas, who will proy upon tho .sheep to their heart's content. What the shcop farmers need to do is to teach tho sheep to protect themselves. This could bo accomplished in various ways. Tho shcop could rid thomselves of the koas by rolling on tho ground; or they could accomplish tho same result by plastering themselves thickly with mud. A few intelligent pigs should bo placed in every Hock of sheep, so that tho latter, observing tho way in which pigs plasccr themselves with mud, could follow their example, and thereby socuro im munity from tho keas. Surely, if a gramini vorous parrot can teach itself to kill anil eat mutton, sheep can be taught the simple measures noccssary to their safety.

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, JANUARY 26, 1884.

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