VELLA VERNELL: OR, AN AMAZING MARRIAGE.

By Mrs Sumner Hay den,

_„«,« of "iatUe Gold's," "Tho Midnight Martian." "Gcraldino," etc., etc.

CHAPTER XXXIII

"DINKIS ORIMES."

~_. m .lndv my jewel, so fair and 80 fine. offfe*** *** ™*$2_l P_nn-.

«Am I I»to> Le '" bogan tho colono- eser gly, He stopped abruptly at tho sight 0 f Grimes. "Ah, Dennis, you here?" Grimes shook the colonel's hand with his

Tuual air of cordiality

"Ah, colonel ! how d'ye do? I do turn like the proverbial bad sixpence, don't I!" with frank directness. " But this call dm been of a purely professional nature, and I fear has bored Mrs Oharu dreadfully. I was just going. Beautiful day, ien't it! By-by, colonel! Good afternoon, Mr_ Ctara!"

And he bowed himself out. Thon and not till thon did tho attentive „_rk figure behind the door of tho adjoining Mom retreat and busy herself about her ■Left alone, the colonel favoured his dash . _ betrothed with a conventional saluto. How different from tho burning kisses of a few moments previous. These actually chilled her. But then tho former her heart welcomed, tho latter disdained. He was formal. Ago usually is. The one love of his life ho had given his low wleed young cousin years ago. To the widow he now tendered a re-heated passion. "Do you know I used aotually to be jealous of that fellow?" he avowed.as though i__r«a-g a curious fact. ■ "Really?" ~, .... , And she smiled bewitohingly. "Really! That was very foolish of me, V aa it not? But I am forgetting my purchase of this morning." From his vest-pocket he produced a diminutive blue velvet box, and took from it a magnificent ring — quito a blazo ot" diamonds. .. «* How beautiful!

And she meant it, This was the first deposit down on tho -Jeof herself. Never doubt but that he iho barters is rejoiced to receive his equiva "Let me put it on 1 And he did so with the usual sanguine jiguranoes on his part, and the usual ac mtacont dumbness on hers. "vf ere you going out ? Did I interrupt you!" Mrs Cham untied the wine-red satin jt_i_Rß of hor bonnet and threw it aside. -"Dear me, no ! I had juet como in." Athought struck the colonel. He looked decidedly embarrassed. He lifted his troubled eyes to hers. "You asked me the other evening about pjniece. It is only right now you should know. The night after his wedding Claflin turned up at my houso raving liko a lunatic. His bride had run away from him." "Run away 1" She could just repeat the words, opening hot belladonaed eyes vory wide indeed. " Yob, and left him only an impertinent no te wherewith to console himself." "And where is she now ?" "Where? I'm blessed if I know. We've baud neither tale nor tidings of her since." " Doesn't your sister know ?" "Dorothy I" in amazement, "no, indeed Ctooh Dorothy keeping a socret five minutes. Dorothy !" and here ho burst out laughing at the very thought. " Who would be rash enough to tell her their plans? AU Chicago would know it within tn hoar. Oh, no! in that respect she ia a thorough woman. Confidences wonld bo the death of hor. Slio oan make the beat salad of any cook in Illinois, but she can't keep a secret, not Dorothy '." 'And be settled himself back comiortably In the hooped and antlerod crimson chair. if " Whore do you think Volla can be?" in tisted Mtß Charu.

;"I Won't the least idoa. She had a little money in the bank, which has been witbdrarn. Thai, will support her for .while I thought she might be with an old __._-./-/rio-d ol hers—a Miss Gage, of P-il_delpiia. They had frequently tinted each other, and were vory much itt-ched; so I telegraphed Mr Gage. The pply was that neither he nor his uoghter had heard from her nor seen hor. In my telegram Z enjoined aecrecy, a— jnj of coarse do not wish the scandal to be toaia bruited about." , "And Mr Claflin—whero is ho ?"

only knows. Scouring the iwitry—more through spite than love, I (Snpy. Probably inspecting outof-tho-way tillages, searching hotel records, enriching detective agencies, ond wearing himself out iody and soul. Both aro welcome to do so, fur ail I care, and his purse can stand the main." always spoke airily of Claflin lately— Wed to think of him lightly. At times a wmting dread oppressed him that if he tiled to find his wife he would revenge him telf on him by making unpleasant disclo ttra. So he was almost tempted to have drawn up a deed of restoration—to speak out-is crime unflinchingly. But he could jot Throw up half a life time of labour, fiat, which he had longed and toiled so to !_, and all through fear— not he ! Soon ffough when security was no longer possi ble. If that time should come, he would r~ Pshaw !it would not come. Why torment himself with phantoms ? -."Doss no one know of this affair ?" in terrogated the widow. Dearly did she love gossip, and this was »particularly choice morsel. ■"Not a soul save ourselves. The Ber- TWte and Dorothy saw him when he arrived it. dead of night, but I am sure they Imagined his first words—a demand for his i|ifo-a tipsy joke." j "Did no one else soe him-know he had Btarnedtothecity?" K'J think not. I am pretty sure nothing about the matter loaked out. I have no f_m heard the faintest rumour concern »g it My servants are all Bingularly 0-oroet They know to mention any such eooorrence 'would be —were it known—as nmch as thoir places are worth." "When did he leave?" > ''Atdaybreak the following morning. I wink he went first to Pinkerton's." "Hohas not b»en in the city since?" j "Not to my knowledge. Every one apposes he is on an extended bridal tour." ."Poor man!" And then she laughed. It was ludicrous. .There was a short silence. Colonol vemell'eclose-set eyes regarded MrsCharu. Nffl Charu's crayon-enhanced orbs smiled . back at him. 'i Neither eyes, voice, nor laughter failed Mr when with tho colonel. Because sho Wed for him not one iota she could look at Mm, ta'fc to him, be merry with him, use *« Ub charms of a manner which a certain "captivating," and a more >raneil coterie denounced " loud." >''Your nephew (what is his name !—Royle ■jVoylo?—yo., that is it) has gone to Wipe, has ho not?" ..Joe colonel's teeth gnashed an oath ho Hl* not clothe with speech. '! Confound the lad !—I beg your pardon, 'ttn hardly call the boy with patience, ffiy&a implicated in a very contemptible j?w-a theft—just about the timo of his Wtt's wedding. You remember he was » present at the ceremony. That day he «»under arrest." "Arrest!" W what a complication of calamities the much-envied Vernell ?"%! How quiet they had kept |S though! To think of this frie s''-*: °f tit-bits being kept from a city Wy for slander and domestic desolation ! mno one knew, apart from the colonel, jMeshe! Her spirits actually rose at the ™°oght. It was another instalment down wuho conjugal contract! _» _?' c was released the following __«__'• ■ »8 n- But he must have borne me fff? forniy slight part in his detection, «?■ ¥Jough I was instrumental in securing "Wease, he did not return home, and I WMottinee seen him." dftw'" y°U d°nt know where he is' dignified colonel dropped into '"Not a know!" li»_j. C. ***** raiaed Iher embroidered lawn SB * to her lip3>and buret out: teUr£? U.?- id Dofc Cnd lt aggravating," she ___- - ' ltwouldbe intensely amusing. MLv B Tame o! h'do-and-seek, my dear ''fo. oil IBmind3 ma of the magician's IS_ lhree little puppete in a h»t-a i»-nre_tol they're gone! Whero? = ""My knows. And how here are these

three—dear! dear I its all like a very naughty and improbable French novel." But Vcrnell did not smile. " We don't know how it will end yet. To me it appears uncommonly liko an American tragedy." " Tragedy ? Ah, no !"—in confident pro tect "Wo can't say,"—gloomily. "Tho ond is not yet." " Many a trtte word is spoken in jest," pays the old adage How true this was, though spoken, if morbidly, without actual apprehension, ho never ovon dimly foresaw, Could ho havo dono so, would ho have eat in her house, joying in her society, in the prospect of her possession t No ! no'! no! When ho rose tc Ro, ho asked a question not for the tirst time, but sho had aa yo't given him no answer. " W hon are you coming to me, Lotitia?" Tho artistically roupred cheeks neither paled nor flushed i tho flashing dark eyes did not droop. " I hardly know. I havo so much to see about first. I " " Oh, lot shopping, and that kind of l*ii. mess go till after. I'm desperately lonoly." Ho was. Tho fact that ho missed the children in tho houso, wild horses would not have torn from him. In truth, nover ovon to himself hail he confessed it. Perhaps ho was right, she reflected. From tho night she had met him at Mrs Sylvio's ball she iiad decided to marry him. The home, position, luxury ho could give hor woro vory tempting baits. And—as has beon before remarkod—only sho knew how dangerously slender her pur=o had grown, for nil her rich attire and showy manner of living. Yes, " 'tworo better dono quickly." But, Dennis ?—all the moro reason, '•I bolieve I will I"—speaking with a sud den impulse. "And it shall be private." '' That I would much profer. But when ? To-morrow ?" " Gracious.no ! This day month." But here tho colonel flatly rebelled. The month decreased to three weeks -, the three weeks finally dwindled down to a paltry one. Whon he had gone, she sat long ponder ing, brooding. Now that the term of hor freedom was fixed, the bond began to gall painfully. Dennis ! In what sharp contrast he aroao before hor—young, stalwart, impassioned. She would like to see him again—just for a few minutes. She would liko to explain to him her poverty—the necessity for hor marrying well. Sho wantod to stand high in his esteem, to rotraot the enforced words of to-day, to shako hands and say good-by. Those wero the reasons with whioh she doceived herself. Impulse ruled her. She did what an honourable woman would have cut her throat beforo doing. But honour was a Bentiment omitted in the creation of Letitia Charu. She rose suddenly, went over to her ebony oscritoire, sat down, and wrote rapidly a minute, then folded the creamy sheet, thrust it in an envelope, sealed, and addressed the letter. She went hurriedly "into the next room, where her odd-looking maid was still busy with hor laces and i*owne. " Hilaria, I want you to go an errand for mo. I would rather entrust you with it than any of tho Bervauts. Put on your cloak and bonnet." Quickly sho did as bidden. Mrs Charu extended tho missive. " Go to the Sherman House—you know tho Sherman, on the corner of Clark and Randolph-streets. Ask for the gentleman to whom it is addressed, and deliver it." Hilaria turned away obediently, went out of the room, down the stairs. Those black eyes of yjpurs aro quick as lightning and keen as daggers, Mrs Charu, but they missed your new maid's suddon start—did not see in the shadow of tho poke bonnet the scarlet which flamed into the brown cheeks at sight of the superscrip tion, " DENNIS GRIMES."

CHAPTER XXXIV,

"in dale's."

"A neat little lottor, addressed In a woman's hand-writing, containing half

gues.od. An odour of violets, faint as tho spring.

And coquettishly seal.d with a small signc; ring." LUCILLE.

Would sh. read it?

A certain stern sonso of honour had this Hilaria Jackson. What had her mistress written him ? Why had she written him ? She had come here to watch, listen. To spy, suggested intrusive conscience. Yes, to spy ! Why minco words ? One was as good as another. She had come to spy. How much might sho not miss? \\ hat false stops might she not make by leaving the missive in her hand unread ?

Tho scene between the two to-day had sot eyery nerve in her body tingling. The stop of the man to whom her mistress was pledged upon thestairs—the kissesof another oa her lips. It was shameful, it was in famons ! What a gay girl she herself had been in her youth ! It made her almost mad with misery as she recalled it. W hat a gay, glad, happy-heirted girl—till she mot Dennis Grimes ! And after that even happiness was for her a word far too feoble. Earth blossomed into a new Paradise. And she had mado him a good wifo—a faithful, tender wife, absorbed in her homo and her husband. Husband 1 wife ! Heaven Bave the mark! And how she had loved him ! If she had boen less the slave of anguish now.

Woald sho read it ? Surely she had a right to know. To be married in one week, and writing him to-day! Perhaps she should not believe it at all. No, no ! that was a foolish thought, [t probably required an answer. If none came she would be suspected, discharged ; and that would not do just now. No ; she would let things tako their course. She would bide her timo. She would deliver the letter. But would she read it first? For tho dozenth time tho thought camo to her as she rolled northward in an Indiana and Cottage Grove Avenue car. Would she? wouldsbe? . " Yes, she told herself in sudden des peration. Why not ? Of course she would. In home one must do as tho Romans. In tho midst of deception and trickery why should she alone strive to uphold honour. Honour ! What was it to her ? Whatwas anything to her save revenge -anything 1 If this scrap of paper would help her to that end, road it she would. " I love you ?" sho had said. And he had answered: " Then I can wait!" At the corner of Madison and Wabash Avenue sho stopped the cor and alighted. It would havo taken her nearer the Sher man had she continued on in it. But she was not going to the Sherman just yefc. The bright October day was still young, and the State street pavements were still astir, aglow, abustle. But of that sho took littlo note, and save to jostlo past hor none noticed tho groy h-i-od woman in the scoop bonnet and long black cloak. So past State-street she went, and up to Dearborn. Past the stately brown-stone "Tribune" Building, and on to •Clark-street—Clark, with its theatres, its .gaping rows of pawnshops, its flaringly placarded Dime Museum, two blocks to the left its magnificent post-office, and still farther south, out of elbow room of tho great stores and pleasure temples, its physically and morally inodorors slums. But Hilaria Jackson did not penetrate notorious South Clark-street. At tho crossing of Madison and Clark she P!lShe turned to the right and entered tho drug store on the north-east corner. Quite a crowd wero in line by the marble counter of the huge Boda fountain. The sudden cold had made the trado in hot drinks very brisk. When her turn camo she asked for beet tea- " Very hot!" she said. She did not avail herself of the bowl of cracked ico lumps, of which hurried customers wero dropping in their steaming She retreated with her mug to the bench opposite the counter. She took the letter from her pocket hesitated. , , , ~ No no !It would never do to deliver the note odourous with essence of beef. Tho latter was a perfume foreign to Mrs Charu and her correspondents. No, she must make a bolder move than that, ho she went back to the counter, dropped ice as did tho others in tho too warm beverage, aud gulped it down. Then she held out her empty mug to the clerk. "Will you do me a favour?" sho asked politely. "I have omitted an inclosure in my letter," showing him the envelope, "and Ho not wish to have the .rouble of re-ad dressing and re-stamping it. Will you be „ood enough to rinse out this mug and fi ft with boiling water for me, and I shall open it with the steam." "Certainly, madam.'' She had been careful not to let him see tho side bearing the superscription. Dennis Grimes wae a man too well known to have his name publicly displayed withou. excit ing comment. Neither was the envelope BtTh-° clerk did as requested, mentally dubbing her a crank to go to so much

trouble to save a postage-stamp. But he saw too many daily to be at all surprised. Soon thoy would be in tho majority, this pessimistic young sbda-vonder told hinisolf. Hilaria wont back to the long bench of perforated wooi, laid her lettor on tho top 'cf Jho mug, covering it with her hand. In a few minutes she looked at it. Yes, tho mucilage had been softened by the steam. A pin deftly manipulated would do tho rest.

She returned tha hot Water, took hor ldn£ shawl pin, inserted it carefully lindet the (lap of the envelope, And With delicate dexterity opened it. She withdrew the shcot, read at a glance the few lines .hereon, returned it to the envelope, and sealed it all in less timo than it takos to tell it.

She wont down to the cashier's cage, paid her a cheque, and left the store. She walked two blocks north on Clark to Randolph, crossed to th. oppsito pavement and turned west. Half way up the block sho stoppod. Yes, sho was just at tho Shorman Houso. As she ascended tho steps she glauced at the letter in hor hand. Tho envelope, now quito dry, was a trifle blistered. But ho would not notico. Men woro carolesa about such tilings. At sight of he. chirograpliy ho would tear it impatiently open. But sho dreaded meeting him—how she dreaded it! She was curious to test her skill at self-disguise, too, though. Something of tlio.forvour of tho actress to play her part woll took possession of her. •' Is Mr Grimes within?"

"Grimes? Let mo see —131—36 —39 — yes. I'll send for him. Plouso go up to tho parlour." Somo prosy and vorbose client bo imag ined when his visitor was announced to him. So ho kept hor waiting till ho smoked out his cigar beforo he camo down.

Would ho recognise her? Hor heart was heating furiously as he appoachod,

CHAPTER XXXV.

an unwelcome summons. " From the f uturo back to the past Thore was but v step to be made." "AUK iTALIBNg." His sleepy eyes swept on. AU they saw was a queer-looking old woman, brown skinned and grey-haired, clad in a very sombro raiment.

"I como from Mrs Charu—you are Mr Grimes ?" began a low voico with a certain hesitant stammer.

" Ah 1" his nonchalant face brightening. " Yes, I am Mr Grimes. You bring a message." In silence she extended the letter. Ho snatched it, as sho expected ho would, anu eagerly tore it open. His tlorid face flushed as ho road.

" There is no answer. You aro—" Tho head in the poke bonnet was kept persistently lowered. But what matter! She was old and ugly. " I am Mrs Charu's maid." •< Aw—yes. A trifle my good woman, I insist!" pressing a two-dollar bill into her hand. "Good-day I" And ho sauntered off.

She stood still as stone. The eyes book of the blue spectacles grew hot and moist. But tears must not fall. This was no time for them. Dry oyes and sharp onos she needed now.

She glanced down at the money in her hand. Two dollars Iho had not often been so liberul of lato. Tho little flat on Flournoy atreet had beon kept in necessaries these last throe months by her patient and constant needle. Two dollars I

Truly he was growing jealous ! Sho supposed she should fling it in the gutter. That was what a woman in a book would do—a woman of spirit.

But she would do no such thing. She would put it with that which he had givon her the night of their parting. She would need it somo day. All her household be longings she had left with hor landlady to pay several months' arrears of rent. Thoy would baroly do it. She must be on the alert to-night, she de cided, as the crowded ear bore hersouthward. What were those lines :

" Dennis : I am to be married this day wook. Let us part friends. Como this evening at eight, congratulate mo philosophically, shake hands and say—good-by—."

Through tho false web of tho words Hilaria Jackson discerned thebeating, undisoiplined human heart behind.

What was to .oino of it all—what? Mrs Charu mot her as she returned. '• Well?" she asked, anxiously. " I delivered it, madam." "And ho said—" " Thore was no answer. "That is right." And she moved away. Tho sun went down. The day grew ooldor. In cheery detianco of the gathering darkuess tho handsome street lamps of Michigan Boulevard blazed out in points of flamos.

Within tho widow's splendid apartments thegos was alsolighted—thecurtains drawn. As tho evening wore on, she bocame curi ously nervous. She went into her chamber and . ummonod ber maid.

"Doup my hair again, Hilaria! It is a fright. To think I have not changed my etroet dross yet. I believe I was waiting for you to roturn. Got me something else to put on. Somothing com fortable—and pretty. That Greek gown — yos! No knot my hair low. It looks better so with this dress. No jewollory. I am neither going out nor receiving this evoning. Woll, yos—you may put that ruby crescent in. So ! that will do 1" Sho dined in solitary state. At least she made a protence of dining. As to any visitors who might call she gave vory positive directions. She was in disposed and could see no ono—except Mr Grimes. It was imperative that sho should grant him an interview. No one else. Her maid, noting her from tho pext room, whoro sho moved around disposing of tho discarded stroet costume, observed her ner vousness.

She walked up and down tho brilliant drawing-room, up and down. Half a dozen times in as many minutos she drew out her watch. Once she held It to her ear to discover if it had stopped. •' A quarter to seven !" she murmured. "It grows dark so early now. How the evenings drag I" „_._.. Ten minutes later there came a pull at the bell. She stood still. Could it be he? She had said eight—- A knock at tho door. " Come!" A servant entered with a note. "From Miss Vernell!" he said. She opened—perusod it. " Send Hilaria to me." And when Hila.ia had come she extended to her the sheet she held. Tho maid took it and read :

•' Dear Mrs Charu ; I need Hilaria badly this evening. Can you spare her for a few hoursl I don't think sho will refuse to como to me.— Very sinceroly, „ * " DonOTirv C. VEiiNEi.t,."

" You must go nt once !" Mrs Charu said. A look of dismay flashed over the brown face. And miss the interview—Aw visit after all her planning and scheming ! And yet she could not decline to go. Miss Dorothy had been her first friend—her best friend, Brightly as the desire for vengeance burned in Tier bosom, gratitude burned moro steadily still. If Miss Dorothy needed hertho should have hor. " Yes, madam 1" submissively. And she left tho room. "Is the messenger below? Mrs Charu asked the servant awaiting orders.

Ho- assented. A fow minutes more, and Hilaria passed down the wide, shallow, massivoly balust traded stairs, and out into the cold October night. . , Arrived at tho Vernell mansion, the housemaid with whom she had como took hor in through the rear entrance, and up the back stairs to Dorothy's room. Tho little lady in the comfortable fire lighted and lamplighted room aprang up with an exclamation of pleasure at sight of her. Sho closed the door carefully behind the housemaid and turned back to her. "My good Guila! I knew you would come to me. lam in such a dilemma, and knew no ono save you whom I could confide in. Voyle— but first I must tell you about my darlings. Sit down." And then she told her briefly and explictly the story of Vella's marriage and Voyle's flight. , . "I am terribly uneasy at not hearing from Vella !" she went onto add. "She promised to write, immediately on her ar rival. We should have arranged concern ing somo underground post-office. It may be" she fears a letter falling into my brother's hands. She is surely safe with Miss Gage. But it was not about that I sent for you. This afternoon 1 received a note from Voyle. He Bays Here you may read it yourself !" She drew It from her pocket and handed it to her guest. In a hurried, slap-dash hand Guila read:

"Deaf.r-t Aunt Dolly: I am afraid to risk meeting uncle by doing to tho house again, yet I want to see you badly. Why I dislike meet ing him I shall tell you when I sec you. If you can nianasjo it, come to-night to Weot Madiaon streot, and ask for Charles Hatley. " YOUE LOVING EOT."

And that was .all. " I could not think of taking over our own carriage and horses—James would

know," explained Miss Dorothy, in a flurry. " _Knd I could not go in tho cars by mycelf— t \vould bo sure tb got so (confused and bowildered changing. Don't laugh, my dear. I know it sounds ridiculous, but if ever there was a woman scared of her own shadow after twilight, it's I. Old folks do got dreadfully timid. So I waß really afraid to go alone, Going and coming must make it altogother about twolvo miles. A blessed thought Came into my head to send for you and ask you to go with me. Will you ?" "Yes."

CHAPTER XXXVI,

" don't let him stand between us !"

" There are fatal days indeed, In which tho librous yoara havo taken root

So doeply that they quivor to their tops Whene'er you stli tho dust ot such a day." —_, B. Browning. "Ah!"

With a sharp catching of her breath Mrs Charu pause: in her restless Walk—waitSJ. Ho was ascending the stairs—crossing tho corridor—at the door.

As he entered sho turned swiftly and went to moet him.

A curious light came into his eyes at sight of her.

How handsome she looked! Her dress of some soft, thick, lustreless silk wag of a deep, glowing purplish red —just tho oolour of a ripo jncquominot. Of a style Grecian in its amplitude and severity, the long, full folds gathered a little below the waist by a cablo of silkon cord the samo colour as the gown, the heart shaped corsage, tho edges of which wero softoned with rare fine point, all set off marvellously hor rich dark beauty—a boauty which, if a trifle huggard by daylight, was still striking under the beautifying gas light.

She would bo cautious, she told herself— she would, Bho would j but for all that her heart was in a tumult at his mere presence. " Ah, you havo come !" but not offering him her hand.

"How good of you! I really felt wretched after you left to-day. Of course you know my—my extorted assertion—goes for nothing " He laughed confidently and shook his head, his eyes with that curious expression still fixed upon her face. "I know what tho word of some women goes for—nothing !" coming still nearer, and nover once removing from hor counten ance his usual shifting but now steadfast gaze. " But I know also what the word of Letitia Charu is—extorted or otherwise. It is truth. Wait!" as she would have spoken. " Had you uttered new a word, I still wouldhave known you loved me; for your oyes," speaking with slow emphasis, " will not do your bidding and lie. .'"

She fell back a stop or two, looking straight at him, breathing hard. " Conviction broeds conviction !" says Hardy. Sho had known sho loved him— known it all the time. But sho hod not admitted it to herself. Therein lay tho shock of this moment. To hear him in solemn earnestness give her innermost thought utterance was to forco her to face her naked conscience, and sho shrank from it.

"This is hardly fair—hardly gentle manly, " striving to smile and speak lightly. " Supposing you really—believe—what you say, is notlifo too stockod with tragedios for us to—counterfeit them—in our parlours?" Though flmilling successfully, her breath had been coming and going so quickly she had spoken the words with absolute effort.

" Counterfeit!" ho repeated : and now her eyes foil before his.

Both woro still standing. Too excited woro thoy to think of sitting down.

Sho must get tho interview over soon. Sho was a strong woman mentally, but he had power to sway her like a child. She lifted her head with as much defiance as she could assume.

" I am to be married this day week. That is why I sont for you. To toll you I retract my rash words of to-day—that I regret you—caro—to suggest that we look at affairs in a sensible light. Shako hands and _ay good-b y» 1" Dennis started violently. Of course it was impossible sho could know. But did it not seem as though there woro an imp of evil afloat to urge hor to thoso words—the very onos ho had spoken to Guila for the sako of this woman just four nights ago? And now she. said thorn to him—to him I

No, she did not know. But it was by no means impossible that sho should. And how much more nervous would ho not have boen could he havo suspected tho idouity of Mrs. Charu's maid.

Ho clasped hor hand, drew hor to him, put his arm around her, hold her with a grip of steel in spite of hor resistance.

" Look hero, Letitia !" his voice low enough and quiet enough wore it not for a repressed chord of passion whioh thrilled it, " isn't it about timo to drop this sort of thing ? You proffered friendship to-day —friendly farewells this ovening. I told you what I thought of tho former then. Don't force me to discuss tho latter now. It mi[.?ht not bo pleasant for you 1"

There was a covert threat in the re strained Bpooch. If tho widow noticed it, she did not resent it. To womon of her calibre such fearloss mastery is as car esses.

For onco sho was silont.

He did not rolenso hor, did not remove thoso palo oyes of his from her face as ho went on rapidly : " You did not sond for me eithor to say good-byo—you know you did not. You try to deceivo yoursolf by imagining this is your motive, and you try to deceive mo by telling mo of it. You sent for mo," and hero spoke tho enormous self-appreciation of tho fellow and his sublimo impudence, " because you love mo !" And ovon now she did not speak. What could sho say ? Why Btruggle against tho torront of his conviction and his passion ?

Oh, she should not havo let him come, have soon him again—sho should not! "You want wealth or you would marry me I" he hurried on, feverishly. " Hush ! I don't blame you-you can't value it more than I. Only I could bo bappy with you without it. That is saying much more than can you. But, as I have said, I don't blame you— only," and hore he bent his bold head till his reddish mustache just brushed her cheek," only— it we wero but wealthy— and together !" She tore herself from his arms with a sort of sob.

"Don't!" sharply.

" What is the use ?"

She flung herself down in a great tri cornered chair of gold brocado, burying her face in its wide soft ledge.

" But jußt suppose it I" now eager and impassioned as a boy. "We couldgo away —to the old world—to Paris—(jay Paris! Wo could leavo America—its curried med dlers behind us. Thero, not a soul would know us trouble their heads about us. Wo would enjoy life. We would drink its brightest champagne. Nights and days would be all too short for our ploasure. We would live! And we would bo together, Lttitia— think of it—always together I" Ho had come close to her—was bending over the back of her chair. She could feel his hot breath scorching her neck Only her quick breathing indicated that she had heard him. Her face was still hidden in the cushioned arm of the chair. Over the croamy velvet of the carpet her costly dress swept rod as blood. She must not heod him, sho was telling herself over and over. But what matter if she did ? Such an existence could only be if they had money—money ! And that was just what they had not. For your chits of seventeen love in a cot tage, yesterday's mutton (with the bones put by for soup), homemade bread—what is it Hood calls it ? "That villainous com pound of putty and load !"—and a cash mere " warranted all wool" for festal attire! No, no ! not for her! Luxury sho had had —luxury she would have— would have. A brief, burdened silonce.

"Why should he have everything?" Grimes broke out again. "He everything — you , and the wealth of a prince ! It isn't fair—it isn't just. " She compelled horself to lift her head —look up at him, say with a little of her old. cool, daring indifference: " What socialistic assertions ! Do you up hold the red flag?" But he knew the effort of the speech, and did not roply directly. He had worked himself up to a furious stato. His large, blond face was afire, his light heavy eyes glittering.

Suddely he started.

In such an extraordinary humour was he that he heeded no moro expressing his seeth ing soul to the woman beside him than if she were a woman on canvas.

" Letitia !" speaking the same second the idea flashed lightning-like across his brain. " Don't let him stand between us ! Marry him— and kill him!"

The hoarse whisper was like a blow. Now she was not passive ! She leaped erect and faced him, "stiff as a viper frozen. " In a second he was beside her, caught her by the wriets, forced her to listen to him.

"There is a way, " his voice strained, husky, bu' horribly distant, "a way ono can—can —push aside an obstacle— with out detection ! '.there was a case of it in India.- I was (.'-.vie—a Ifoy—at the time it was— discovered. The victim had been dead sixty years—beforo it camo to light!

Just a nail—driven in the ear—in sleep. It is death sure, soundless, bloodless! No ono would knoiV—ever know. A will in your favour—and wo could go away together." Tho baleful fascination of his eyes riveted her where sho stood. Under the " Roses of Cashmere" her cheeks took on a sickly pallor. "Will you—will you?" he pantod. " Good heavens ! you are fainting !"

"No, I nover faint. You may got me some absinthe, though. Don't stare. I'm used to it. You will find some in the Span ish liqueur bottle in the cellaret of the cabi net thoro. That's it!"

(To be Continued.)

EXPERIENCES OF A DETECTIVE.

BY JAMES McGOVAft, Author of "Brought to Bay," "Huntod Down," and "Strange Clues."

A DREAM OF MURDER

The missing man, David Comyn, was undergamekeopor on an ostato a good many miles west of Edinburgh. Like most ignorant and brutish men, when invested with a little brief authority, Comyn was generally disliked in the district, but in this case thero seems to have beon moro ground than usual for the feeling. Comyn was drunken and unprincipled, and was known to accept bribes in fair proportion to tho means of anyone he caught poaching. He was reckless and extravagant, up to the oars in debt, and even then under notico to quit his plnco. A sheriff-officer had been at his cottage the day before to see what furniture thero was to poind, and had been grievously dis appointed with the result, and other creditors were bestirring themselves so actively in tho same direction that Comyn had seriously begun to consider how ho could best vanish from the place, taking all he could with him. Fate was to settle the question for him in a manner he had never dreamed of.

It was on a soft November evening that the disappearance took placo. Comyn stood for a few minutes outside his cottago, speaking with his wife, in the quiet gloam ing. It was his usual time for starting on a tour through tho plantations. Sometimes tho round occupied but nn hour or two ; at others it might be two or three o'olock in the morning before he returnod. He was in a rather bad temper, and scolded his wifo about somo inattention on hor part to the feeding of the pig, but there was nothing in his manner or conversation to indicato that ho meditated a prolonged absonce. He carried no gun, but had a game bag slung by his side lost he should pick up any on tho way. Ho carried in his hand a stout stick with a heavy head, which ovoryono know ho could uso for more than support in walking. He was a big, powerful fellow, and with that stick in his hands was quite as wife as with a double-barrelled gun.

" Aro ye gaun acrosß by tho march ?" asked his wifo as he turned away.

" No, they'vo been there wi' the ploos, and it's heavy walking," ho answered, in a sullon tone. " I'll gaug by Whinny Head and Craig find."

A young collie dog, which Comyn had in training, at that moment ran out of tho houso and sought to accompany him. Comyn swore at the dog; kicked it back into the houso; made it howl with the weight, of his stick, and then disappeared into tho shades of the evening. His wito saw him strike across a Hold near by for tho firht plantation, and then turned into the hove,u _c, muttering that scathing comment whioh has been used by nearly every wifo from Mothor Eve downwards — " Grumblin' brute I"

Having thus relieved hersolf, and little dreaming that she was looking upon her husband for tho last time in life, Jen Comyn turned into tho houso, and in two hours was Bound asleep in bed. The door remainod unlocked during the whole night, aud Jen, aroused about live in the morning by hor child crying, w,i- surprised to note the hour and find that hor husband had not returned. Sho folt no alarm or concern, but simply quieted lior child and won to sleep again. Comyn did not appear at breakfast time, and Jon mude up ber mind that ho must havo caught some ono ai,d had to lug him off to gaol, and that, as a natural result, lie would bo in a fearfully bod temper when ho did appear. "11l jist lot him flyto awa' and answor never a word," was her wise resolve, only, liko most wise resolves, it camo too late.

The dny wore away ; Comyn did not appear ; nnd tho bead gamokoepor reported that he was not to bo seen anywhere on the estate. No one bad met him or cast eyes on him eiaco ho left Jen at tho cottago door, so far as his Buporior could learn, and was not slow to givo his opinion that Comyn was morely shirking hie duty, and away at tho nearest town having a drinking bout. Jen thought differently, but did not say so. Sho knew that Comyn was in dread of im prisonment for dobt, and that ho had spokon of going to anothor part of tho country, and thon sending word to hor to follow whon ho should be safely settled. Jen's swift thought was that he had suddenly made up his mind to go that night,.and that hor best course would bo a prudent silence. " If onything had como owor him," sho roasoned, meaning any calamity or accident, " he wad have boen found by this timo He has hoard seme word after he gaed oot, and slippit away in tho niohttimo." Strange, somo of tho Craig En-^ peoplo, and others in tho adjacent town, showod moro tondor solicitudo over Comyn than his own wifo. Thoso wore his creditors. Thoy ehowod genuine grief ovor his disap pearance. Thoy had the woods scoured for miles around ; they had his house searched and watched ; and the police hounded on to bunt for the missing man as energetically as if ho had beon beloved of the whole com munity, a touching proof that the meanest among us may bo sadly missed when he is gone. The cool demeanour of Jen did not escape notico. If anything serious had happened to her husband his wife would have shown griof. It was ovident, folk said, that Jen knew perfectly well where her husband was concealed, and her protests to the contrary were received with significant winks and sceptical grins. Jen, from being looked upon as a dull-pated country wench, was suddenly exalted to a person of superior ounning and genius in dodging. After that none of us need despair of a reputation. Liko tho dews of the morning, it may como unbidden and afterwards vanish as swiftly. Now, up to this point the anxious oneß had done thoir bost and failed, and all in terest in Comyn was dying away. It was believed that he had Bhown a clean pair of heels, and all but Jen began to be reconciled to the loss. The wife waa in a sad fix. She believed her husband to be in safety, but thon he was so securely hidden that not ovon sho could find him. She was under notico to quit tho cottage, and had not the faintest idea whithor to turn her stops.

At this point occurred the strange re velation which led tome being called out to assist in tho case. At first it was only a whisper which passed from mouth to mouth, but by and-by a name was given, and some outlines of tho dream, and then one of the county police took the trouble to call on Jake Binning, the ploughman, or farm hand, with whom the rumour originated. Jake was both reticent and sceptical, and disposed to laugh at the| serious aspect of tho county constable. He didn't believe in dreams, he said, so what good cauld come of repeating ono that he had had ? All this coyness on the part of Jake only quickened the curiosity of the constable, and then he succeeded in extracting from Jake the ex traordinary narrative which had caused them to send for me. Dreams, at best, are but filmy clues for a detective to work up on, but in the present case it will be seen that the dream itself was not the most ex traordinary feature. Here is the substance of Joke Binning's statement as it was after wards repeated to me: — On the night of Comyn's disappearance Binning was confined to the houso with a soro heel, which had kept him off his work during the day. His wife happened to be confined to bed at the same time, and Bin ning was able to " hirple about" and attend to hor. Their cottage was one of a row near the place called Whinny Head, past which Comyn had stated his intention of going. Being thus precluded from taking active exercise, Jake went early to bed— how early he could not say, as his wife was asleep at the time, and she was better at remembering these things than he. But Jake had not boon long in bed and asleep when he found himself, in a vision, looking down on a tangled brake or wood quito unknown to him. The spot seemed to be a small hill covered with pines and under brush, and havingin the centre a whinstono quarry, quite dry and disused, and also clothed roundjit-. sides with underbrush of broom, brambles, wild rasps', and whins. A grassy path skirted the edge of the

quarry, and on that open path the moon was shining brightly. As a matter of fact, I found that there had been no moon at all on the night of Comyn's disappearance, but in dreams one must not look for_ absolute accuracy. Jake soemed to bo looking down on that path—which in actual life he had never seen—in the clearest moonlight, and with a strange tromour of apprehension. He felt that something tragic was about to happen under his eyes, yet had not power to drag himself from tho horrifying spec tacle. His feet clung to the ground; his kuees refused to work on their hinge 3; and even grabbing at ths trees to pull himself away did not draw him ah Inch from the spot. While ho vainly struggled, the tra gedy which he sought to avoid seeing began by the appearance of a man as strange to him as the spot. He was a short, broad shouldered follow, roughly clad, and appar ently accustomed to tho roads j he had a butid'e or box slul'g from his shouldors by a cam-as strap, and carried in hi. right hand two T,'hoa_ant3. A- he emerged from the . hadfi of .He tr..n this broad;uhouldored man stO-p-J. and was flb'oilt to stew away the two birds in his wallet or box when Comyn appeared at tho opposito end of the grassy put!.), shouting out the words-

" Hullo you (what aro ye aboot nOW?! The dreamer recognised Comyn at a glance, ond knew his voico perfectly. The thick-sot rutin started up, and, without com pleting tho stowing away of tho pheri.3_.nts, turned to fly, but Comyn, with a ferocious spring und swift pace, got up to him before he cotlld i-9-entot- the wood, and the two were speedily locked .together in a deadly embrace. Neither appoared to gain tiny advantage, for what the poacher lacked in height he seemed to havo in muscle, and Comyn neither succeeded in over-powering nor in felling th_ man with His stick, though he made several dosperakl attempts at both.

Comyn did all tho shouting and 3wearing, threatening his opponent with all the terror^ of tho law. The short man never opened his mouth, but gradually forced Comyn towards the edg. ol tho grassy path overlooking the quarry. Neither (iposared aware of the danger, and tho horrified dreamer tried to scream out a warning. The right leg of tho short man was twisted suddenly about those of Comyn, and a quick wrench and push sent the unfortunate keepor backwards over tho edge of the rock into the quarry. Comyn fell hoad-foremost close in to the eido of tho quarry, and was instantly hidden from tho eight by some braoken growing at the foot of the rock, The short man appeared greatly horrified, and stood stupidly staring before him, with his head bent on one sido as if listening for any sounds of life from below. Theti he got down on his knees, crept to the edge of tho rocks, and peered over, but evidently saw no sign of his opponent, After a long scrutiny tho scared man moved along the path and down an adjacent slope, and so got round to the entrance to tho quarry, which he crossed. He then began groping and searching among the bracken till ho camo on the body of Comyn. It lay in a recess of the rock, with the head bent under it, as if the neck had been broken in the fall. The man had chanced to touch the face in groping, and his fingors came out in the moonlight covored with blood. Ho shuddered and wiped his hands on the grass, and turned and hastily left the quarry. Ho was so seareda nd upset that at first ho forgot the box or wallet and the two pheasants upon the grassy path, but after a minute or two returned, secured theso, and made off across tho country at a rapid rate. That was the substance of Jako Binning's drouin of murder. Being asked if lie thought he could recogniso the Bpot seen in his dream, ho said ho belioved bo could, but was sure that there was no such place in that quartor. Asked* again if ho could idontify tho murderer, ho was not quite so decided in his reply. He could describe tho man minutely enough, yet seemed un certain whether he could idontify him.

Now, when this narrative was first de livered to the Chief Constable there was present the head gamekeoper, and this man no sooner heard tho quarry described than ho said vory decidedly— " You moan Craigio's Cutting, the old quarry that was usod to build Craig End, and then close again ?"

"Whore's that? I nover hoard of it," wdi J.iko Binning's answer, and then the gamekeeper explained that tho place in question was in tho contio of ono of tho plantations not well known, becauso sur rounded by cultivated fields and fur back from tho road. It was used chiefly as a reaving ground for young gamo, and at cortain sea-ons was vory closely watched by the keepers on that account. Binning could not soy whether it was likely to he that spot or not, but thought it might be worth while to havo tho quarry searched. Tho some evoning, therefore, the Chief Constable, with two of his mon and the gnmekeopor, proceeded to tho secluded spot named Craigie's Cutting. Tho gamekeoper waß avorso to making the soarch, though not strongly co, averring that ho Had already searched tho placo thoroughly, and found no traco of either tho missing man or a murder. Ho laughed dorisively at Jako's dream, and frooly oxpressed an opinion that Jako's head that night had containod moro whisky than was good for tho owner. The polico superintendent was inclined to think difforoiitly, possibly boing of a moro superstitious cast of mind. Under tho guidance of tho gamekoopor, about fifteo-. minutos' walking brought thorn to Crnigio's Cutting. They lighted two lamps whicli they had brought, and walked across tho quarry to tho spot describod so accurately by Binning in his dream. There was tho braokon at tho foot of tho rook ; there was tho natural rocoss ho had doscribed; and on parting the bushos, and holding forward the lamps, thero was the body of a man ! Tho gamokeoper looked gravo and started, and somewhat foolish ; tno superintendent jubilant, the natural results of finding themsolves wrong nnd right. Very care fully they lifted out the body, which lay with the head doubled up under it, and then ascertained beyond doubt that it was that of David Comyn. Thoro were few injuries and littlo blood discernible ; death had evi dently been swift, and caused by the break ing of the nock. Under tho bracken which had hidden tho body, they found the stout walking-stick which Comyn had been known to carry. The four men stood staring at eaoh othor in awe and wonderment. Every particular of tho dream soemed confirmee!. Corayn's death had evidently been caused by a fall from tho top of the quarry ; the only possibility remaining was that he might have gone over by accident. They left the body and ascended to the grassy path. More confirmation. Thereweroalmost palpable traoos of a strugglo' immediately abovo the spot where the body lay; the turf ground was indented, torn, and scraped, as by heavy feot in fierce conflict. The death had not boon accidental. The whole^ revelation seemed supernatural and astound-' ing, and there camo additional confirmation. Tho body of Comyn was conveyed to his home, and on the way thither the Chief Constable said—

" I bolieve I know a character answering the description of the man who did it. His character isn't tho beat, and though he Erofcsses to bo a hawker, and has a licenso, c doesn't confine himself to tbat. Many a hundred pounds worth of gamo has passed through Pete Coulter's hands." "Coulter?" observed one of tho con stables. "I saw him three or four days ago about five mile from here ; he was going in the direction of Edinburgh, and had his box slung over his back." " Strange ! and ho does not movo about with anything like regularity. He might not be in this quarter for six months again," continued tho Chief Constable. " Strange that he should have been here, or near here, on that very night. And the description fits him perfectly—and would fit no other that I know."

The sensation caused by these investiga tions and discoveries in that quite country place is indescribable. Had tho police had thoir own way the whole would have beon kept secret for a time at least. But Jake Binning had made no secret of his dream, and the rest speedily oozed out. But meanwhile the telegraph had been «t work, and I was requested to look after the mys terious hawker seen in Jake's dream.

It seemed to me that this message came far too late. I did not know that the hawker in question moved but slowly at times, and I quite despaired of picking him up in Edinburgh. But quickly following the telegram came the Chief Constable him self, and from him I learned a number of particulars regarding the man wo sought. Among othor things I was told that Peter Coulter was a great favourite with carriers and farmers, and frequently 'got a lift in their carts. This induced me to pay a visit to the Grassmarket, and the constable ac companied me. A number of these carriers and farmers put up in that quarter, and among co many from the districts sur rounding the city, it seemed strange to me if we 'did not come on some clue to the whereabouts of Pete Coulter.

Be it observed I had absolutely no ex pectation of finding tho actual man thoro. We had gone through two of tho inns with out coming ou any information of import ance, when 1 was surprised by my com panion saying, quickly—

" Why, there's Pete himself!" I looked in the direction indicated, and saw two carriers ond a short, muscular-leok ing man of forty-fivo or so seated drinking together. Tho man we sought appeared quite cool and unconcerned, and nodded familiarly to my companion. Ho had a rather cunning eye, ond seemed a knowing fellow altogether, but there was nothing depraved or brutal about the expression of his face. _ "I've been looking for you, Pete Coulter, said my companion. "Are you staying here ?" "Yes, sir—grand weather," was the hearty reply. "Then get your things and come away with u_," coldly continued the constable. Quite tt puzzled look overspread tho hawker's face, and ail.ngth, after a scratch at his towsy pow, he Baiu—

" Guidness me, what's the matter? Do ye think I've been poaching?" "Oh, you've done that, too, in your day, I dare °'iy," answered my companion; "but this officer, DetectiYO McGovan, wants you on if much moro serious chargo." Pete's r'la'rmed gaze fell upon me, and there watf soinetliing comical in nis aspect. "Preserve mo, _s that McGovan?" he said, concernedly ; "and what do ye want wi' me 1" , " You are wanted on a charge of murder, I answered, trying to look grave, which was no oasy matter. "Murder?" ho vacantly returned; "murdering some' «s_9s. bit rabittie or hare, ye mean." , " No, not a rabbit or hare -a lUati," ond I swiftly warned him to say nothing more than tie Weld help. " Humph ! I've _i-.et.hing to be feared for," was Rote's scornful r.ply. "Mur dered a man.? Did onybody ever hoar the like? My manny, you've made a mistak thi. timo, Div I look like a murderer ?"

Truth to bat, fee <tid not, but then appear ances go for nothing in case, of that kind. Somo of the most gentlemiibty-looking fello.va have mado their last bow on the gallows. Wo took Pete away and searched him. He woro a loose sack coot, and under that a deep waistcoat of light mole skin, and til- waistcoat, at tho left side, under the arm, wa_ deeply stained with blood. j "It was only a hare, gentleman—« hare that I was commissioned to carry into tho toon," quickly observed Pete. "It had got gie Bair hashed about the head, and I was feared some policeman might think it was a poached ane," he added, With a sly look, "so I carried it under my jacket.' Questioned closely, Pete admitted that he had killed the hare with his stick. He had come on it asleep on tho road—a likely story !—and smashed it dead on the spot. In his declaration he Btatod that he had passed along the public road near Craig End jn the afternoon before Coin'yn's disappear ance. Ho knew Comyn by sight, but had not seen him for many a day—six months at least. Ho had no idea whero Comyn was at that moment—ho might be in the moon for aught he know. Yes, he knew Craggie's Cutting. It was an old quarry. Ho hud Been it worked for soma timo long ago. No, most docidedly he Was not near Craggie'- Cutting on the night after he passed Craig End j ho hadn't time to go as far, and never thought of going—why should he ? Did he not pass through the Svood surrounding the quarry, and on the way kill two pheasants ? Pete looked perfectly thunderstruck at the question, and answered with such haste and warmth as to make in hia answer a rathor cool admission.

"No, I didna!"fwas his indignant answer. " 1 havona killed a pheasant for many a day, and thoy'd bo clever that wad kill ane there, where the place is eao weel watched."

He had not been nearer the quarry than Whinny Head, where ho sold some of his small wares. He remembered that dis tinctly. It was about three or four in the afternoon, and if they didn't believe him thoy could ask the people at that row of farm hinds' cottages. It was mother-o' pearl buttons he had sold, and it was a man who bought them. He declared he would know the man again, though ho had seen him then for the first time. The man was not lame, and did not limp when ho walked, so far as Pete could soe.

This was nearly all that was cont_ined|in Coulter's declaration, and he was locked up. Then I went out to Whinny Head, nnd brought in tho man Binning to soe the prisoner. Binning did not seem inclined to come, and Bhuflled hard to get out of the task. Ho was quite sure he could not identify the face—faces in dreams were so hazy and indistinct, and sometimes the face seems to tehange into another. As I was firm, however, ho had to accompany me, and tho result was exactly what I had ex pected, with a little moro added on which was expected by neither of us. When Jake Binning was shown Pete Coulter he hesi tated, looked again, asked the hawker to spoak co that ho might hear tho tone of his voice, and finally eaid the prisoner was '* like tho man ho had soon in his dream in size and form, but tho face was not the same." This was disappointing, and I began to distrust Binning. It soemed to mo that ho had for some reason mado up his mind not to identify Pete. But a startling surpriso was in Btoro for us both. Just as Binning concluded, Pete shouted out— " That's tho man I saw at Whinny Head and _elt the buttons to, and there's the very buttons on his waistcoat," and as he spoke Pete indicated throe mother-o'-pearl buttons which did not exactly match the others on Binning's waistcoat. " You've made a mistake," said Binning, turning pale. "I never saw you in my life before." _, , „ _„ "What? Do you think I'm daft? returned the pedlar. "Man, I have the rest o' the buttons in ray box yet: and doo ye no mind hoo ye grudged the price, and wad hae the odd ha'penny struck aff ?" Binning denied thp whole most voci ferously, got confused, contradicted himself in some little particulars, and finally ap peared in a great hurry to get away. " Look after that fellow, Air McGovan," said Pete to me in a whisper, as I left the place, " for if he's no the murderer himself, he kens something aboot it." I went to Pete's box, being accompanied with much reluctance by Binning, and turned out his small stock, whsn I came upon a paper of mother-o'-pearl buttons, from which some had been removed, and which matched exactly the three odd ones on Binning's waistcoat. After consultation, it was my duty to in form the clever dreamer that he was arrested and formally detained, charged with being concerned in the murder. He | appeared to lose his head for a moment, for he blurted out-

"lean swear I never meant—l mean, I never killed the man. "

Tho words wero taken down, but very littlo more did we get out of Binning. His declaration only amounted to a strong protest of innocence. But then we had his former statement to fall back upon. I found on investigation that Binning had not been lame or confined to the house on tho night of tho murder; indeed, I came upon one witness who had seen him and spoken to him at least a mile from his house, and at a very late hour, that night. His own wife could not say for certain that her husband had been in the house all the evening, as she had been asleep most of tho time, and in tho " ben " end of tho house. After a week's meditation in prison Binning got permission to make a second statement. His_ new de claration was practically a confession of tho murder. He had been wearied with the day's confinement in the house and the nursing of his wife, and had gone out after dark when she was asleep. He declared that he only wanted a walk and the fresh air, but it was thought that he would not have missed the chance of a rabbit or hare if it had come in his way. The rest of the declaration was simply a repetition of the incidents of his " dream," with this difference, that, instead of the pedlar figuring as the doer of the deed, he occupied that place himself. Comyn had charged him with preaching, while he indignantly replied that he had no suoh thought or intention in his head, and as for trespassing, he said "he would walk owre a' God's earth in spite o' him and his maister, as lang's he kent he was daein' nao herm."

The answer appeared to enrage Comyn, for they immediately closed, with the fatai re.ult as already described. Tho dream was an afterthought, and tho idea of in troducing the figure of the pedlar as he had appeared at his own door came to him only when he thought that man would bo safely out of reach. His object was, by being the first to direct attention to where the body lay, to effectually draw suspicion away from himself.

When Binning's trial came on Pete was ready to appear as witness against him— though it had nearly been the other way— but Binning pleaded guilty to a charge of culpable homieido, and no witnesses were called. His sontenoe was two years' im prisonment. Whether he actually told the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, in his account of the murder lies " botween him and the lang day,'

NEW GUINEA.

(Special Correspondence op Auckland

"Star.")

K'istory of the Papuan Institute,

The Papuan Institute, or "Tho Papuan Industrial School and Teachers' Seminary," being an institution which is growingly becoming ono of the most important forces in the evangelisation and civilisation of Now Guinea, some account of it may bo acceptable to those of your readers who are interested in our work. During our prospective voyage in IS7I from tho Loyalty Islands, whore the New Guinea mission was originated, and of which it was bvt the extension, o-irjng to French opposition in Now Caledonia, we gained such information -mil experience fron: our visit to Katau, on the main body of the groat island, and Redscar' Bay, on the south-east p-.nin.ula, a.s made it clear to my mind that we h _d undertaken a most difficult work. We had not only to con tend with a savage, cannibal, an 2 treacher ous people, but also with an unsurvoyed coust and a deadly climate. My conviction was that it would be advisable to pursue a somewhat different plan from the one adopted in the South Seas ; and every step in our mission has strengthened that im-

prossion. We wero like a small party attacking a strongly-fortified citadel, in which great caution was required. Prudence suggested the formation of stations on email islands off the coast to be used as retreats, sana toriums, and stepping-stones to the main land—cities of refuge to secure the mission against total collapse from failure at other points. Accordingly, our first mission statios- was establisnod on Darnloy Island, which is high, healthy, and fertilo, situated opposite the mouth of tho Fly Rivor, about forty miles distant; our noxt (during the samo visit in 1871) on Dauan and Saibai, islands close to tho mainland between tho Baxter r.nd Katau Rivers. At tho same timo teachers were introduced to tho people of Katau, and arrangements mado for their settlement after remaining a little while with their at Dauan to get ac climatised and acquainted with tho place and people, Dauan being a high and tolerably healthy island-the only ono, in deed, in that part of tha jowlands of New Guinea.

The First Static1-! at Port Moresby. Finding the southeast peninsula in habited by a lighter-coloured raco than the moro pure Papuans on tho main body of the island, and their language resembling that of Eastern Folyns.ia, we suggested to the directors the desirability of obtaining a staff of teachers and a missionary from Eastern Polynesia for work on the penin : sula, which led to tbe appointment of the Rev. G. W. Lowes in 1874, and of the Rev. J. Chalmers two years later. These brethren (making Port Moresby their head quarters) ha 79 vigorously prosecuted the work on tho Bouth coast of the peninsula, gradually working westward towards the main body of the island. That part of the peninsula which is the scene of their labours Is about ninety mile 3 wide, yet so moun tainous and difficult for travelling that neither missiotmri.s nor explorers who have visited the peninsula bave yet reached Mount Owen Stanley, which is only about fifty miles from the coast; and a mission established among the hill tribes behind Port Moresby had to be abandoned soon after its commencement. Whilst there are tolerably healthy sites to be found on the hills and headlands of the comparatively barren peninsula, the case is totally difierent in the Papuan Gulf, where tho land ie low and swampy, the vegeta tion rank and luxurious, the rivers often overflowing their banks and forming stag nant pools, which combine to produce a malignant miasma, that, like the Angelof Death, guards this main entanee to tho in terior of Now Guinea. How to carry on the work in such a district was the problem to be solved. 1 had a good staff of Papuan teachers from Lifu and Mare. These men and their wives had volunteered for the work, and were ready to go wherever 1 wished them ; but this very willingness on their part increased the responsibility on mine. It WC3 clearly my duty to provide for those good men r. healthy retreat to which they could be removed for a time if necossary, nursed in comfort, and prepared for future work. This I felt to be the greatest kindness to them, and the greatest benefit to the mission. It was for me to move about amongst them, attending to their wants, instead of settling down in their midst and thoy having to attend to miue. I felt that I wa3 there to nurse them and their families, not they to nurse me and mine. And so the first five years of my missionary life in New Guinea was Bpent (at the request of the directors of our Society) in pure pioneer work, seeking suit able localities for mission stations, and mov ing about amongst the teachers.

____plo--_kt_o-__ of Four Rivers. It was during this period that wo ox plorod four rivers in the gulf not previously visited by tiny foreigner—the Baxter, Fly, Katau, and Mabidauan Rivors (the Fly had simply beon discovered and named, but not entered) —and discovered numorous harbours and rivers along the south side of the penin sula as far as Milne Bay at the eastern end of the island. Also made an excursion twonty-five|or thirty miles inland from Port Moresby, and established tho eastern branch of tbe mission in China Strait and Milne Bay, conducted by Lifu and Mare teachers from the western branch of our mission. The experience gained during those five years of painful anxiety amidst sickness and death convinced me that the only way to evangelise New Guinea was by native teachers raised from amongst themselves, and from that time I devoted myself to the establishment of the Papuan Institute. My object was to found an institution that should be worthy of the London Mis sionary Society and the New Guinea Mis sion, and work it on somewhat different lines from similar institutions in the Soutb Seas, so as to meet the peculiar wants of this mission, viz., to assemble promising young men and boys from different points of the mission, speaking different languages, at a central station ; and there, removed from their evil surroundings and family influences, teach them, making the English language and an industrial school a prominent feature in the course of their in struction. Like most schemes that verge from the beaten track, it met with con siderable opposition, being declared ''im practicable," " Utopian,"'etc., which led to difficulty and delay in obtaining the sanc tion of the directors. But as in my recom mendation to provide a small steamer for pioneering work during the first few years of the mission, tho question was Bolved by Miss Baxter supplying the steamer; so in the case of the Papuan Institute, the same kind lady offered to provide Institution buildings", and £100 a year towards the annual expenses of the Institution. These kind of arguments are the sort that make a quick impression upon directors.

Soloctlng a Site for tho Papuan Institute,

The first thing was to select tho most suitablo sito for such an institution. Tho place required to bo healthy for a sana torium for tho mission ; fertile, in order to supply plenty of nativo food for the institu tion ; and central, for conveniently reach ing all parts of the Papuan Gulf; and thoso requirements could only be found on one of tho islands of the two small groups situated opposite the mouth of tho Fly Rivor—the Darnley and Murray Groups, which are totally distinct in their physical features from all the other islands in Torres Strait, bearing a luxuriant tropical vegetation like the adjacent mainland of New Guinea, whilst the other islands are barren, like tho adjacent mainland of Australia. We de cided upon Murray Island on account of its population and position, there being be tween 300 and 400 natives on the island, and its being a littlo out of tho track of vessels, which is a deoidod advantage for educational purposes.

The next thing was to find pupils willing to leave their hemes to be educated at Murray Island, and this could only be ac complished after having gained the con fidence of the people. My plan was to obtain a few of the first converts of the mis sion, to form a nucleus around which others might be gathered, and by whom they might be influenced for good, and co gradually create a desire to learn, and a desire to bo good nnd to do good. I selected nino of our most promising and energetic young converts for this purpose, without telling them what I hoped they would become. Ono of our South Sea Island teachers happened to say to one cf them that they would become pioneer teachers to tho people of the Fly River, which led to a good deal of fear and trembling and anxiety, that could only be removed by my assuring them that they would not be sent anywhere in that capacity unless it was their own expressed wish to go. It was evident that they were not prepared to face their old enemies wich no weapons but the Word of God. Thoy littlo thought thon what they would become at thoir own earnest request. After theso young men and their wives most of them being married— had been

with us for nearly three years, and had become better acquainted with Christian truth and Christian duty, and wero amongst the first members of the infant church established at Murray Island, and were now looking forwatd with earnest expectation to becoming pioneers of tho Gospel, which was becoming to them moro and more precious, the time appeared to havo arrived for mak ing the attempt to obtain sixty or eighty young men and boys from our stations and villages with whicli we woro wellacquainted, and formerly establish the "Papuan In dustrial School and Teachers' Seminary,' which had in the meantime received tho sanction of the Board of Directors in London, and tho pecuniary support of a kind friend. Overcoming Barbarous Practices. From the timo that we commenced tho mission no Dauan and Saibai, 1871,1 looked to those islands as tho stepping-stones to the great body of New Guinea, about three : miles distant, and hoped and believed and prayed that the savage skull-hunting tribes who lived there would furnish earnest energetic, enthusiastic pioneer teachers for ! tho sickly adjacent country to which they were accustomed. For years these people refused to embraco Christianity, because it condemned skull-hunting and war, in which they found their delight. Twico the South Sea Island teacher had to fly for his life, and once they attempted to poison him. At last, however, thoy yielded to better in fluences, burnt their idols, and assured me that they had embraced Christianity. On my next visit I determined to test their profession, and, accordingly, in formed them that wo word commencing a large school at Murray Island to teach them good and useful things, and that I wished them to lot mo havo twenty ol their best young men and boys to accompany me to the Institution for instruction, whicli they would no doubt bo anxious for thexr sons to receive now that they had really embraced the Gospel. I don't suppose they expected to havo their faith tested in this way, but thoy wero equal to tho occasion, and brought off to the Ellengowan next morning twenty-three of their sons, somo of them fine-looking young fellows, and others interesting, sharp lads. I did not givo presents of any kind to the fathers, lest it might bo taken as a sort of payment. They were given up freely, and havo remained willingly (after the fii_t>ix months), visit ing their homes onco a-year during the vacation. From Mabuiag I obtained a similar number in a similar way; the rest came from Poigtl, Katau, Tureture, and Bmpton ; also a fow from Darnley and Murray, numbering in all about 100 persons. .-,__■_. j. The Papuan Institute is divided into two branches: tho industrial Bchool and teachers' seminary—the former being tho feeder cf the latter. Several who are now in the latter, and members of the Church, and who, we have reason to believe, will soon become earnest, able, and faithful pioneer teachers, entered tho former three years ago as heathen young men from* heathen villages. Our object has been to 1 create a healthy tone and missionary spirit :in the Institution, and! am happy to say that wo have so far succeeded that, whereas it was difficult at first to get pupils and retain them, now there is not one of them who would not consider it a disgrace to be expelled, and they all seem glad to return after the holidays.

Teachtn __ Useful Industry. For the Industrial school department we have secured the services of Mr Robert Bruce, a yacht-builder from Glasgow, whose work thoro has been favourably noticed in the public journals of that city. He and Mrs Bruce are members of tho Church, and in sympathy with the mission. Wo have been very busy in this department since lb was established. The Institution building -60ft long by 30ft wide, made in Sydney —has been erected; also, a house for my colleague, tho Rev. Harry Scott. A work shop, GOft long by 25ffc wide, has been built in which are to bo found carpenters benches, blacksmith's forge, a turning-latho for wood and iron, with iron bed and slide test complete; circular-saw bench, with self-acting gear. A house has been built for the assistant teacher, who is a bouth Sea islander; also two rows of cottages tor the pupils, all of which are built of lath ana plaster, with corrugated iron roofs. xhe frame of a house has also been prepared for our central station on the Fly River, where the mission there was commenced. The old Venture, a five-ton craft of light draught that I bought for £30 after the wreck of the Mayri, has been almost rebuilt and fitted up for our work on the Fly River. The yacht Mary, about twenty tons, now nearly finished, has been a great under taking. All the wood has been cut here, dragged from tho bush over the hill, and Bawn on the premises, and the work done by Mr Bruce and tho pupils. rSho is strongly built, and most conveniently fitted up. The cabin provides comfortable sleeping accommodation for five persons, and is neatly finished and panelled. Every available space is uEed for cupboards, lockers, Sec. The fore part of the vessel is fitted np for the crew, and thero also ia sleeping accommodation for five persons. The middlo portion is large ond airy, and as all the ballast (six tons) will be utidor the flooring, thero will bo plenty of room for either natives or cargo. Thoro is no necessity to carry both at the same time. This boat has boen built ex pressly for work in the Papuan Gulf, for which the Ellengowan is too largo; and, having nobody to pleaso in its construction but ourselves, we have got what i 3 now being admitted by all to be a most suitable craft for the work. In addition to all this, my own house has been completed, and servants' houses built; a gallery, desks, and forms made for the Institution building. Mission boats havo had to be repaired, and an immense quantity of timbor cut, and coral collected for making lime for all these buildings. So that it will be seen that the industrial school is no mere empty name, but that solid, needful work has been done, and, in consequence, much useful esj.erience gained.

Tbe Training of Teachers. Now we come to the seminary, in which the young men are specially trained for the real work of pioneer teachers. Before they enter this department they are expected to be able to read and write tolerably well, and to be acquainted with the elements of arithmetic. Thoy then receive a course of instruction in the English language, geo graphy, practical arithmetic, object lessons, Bible history, and indeed every subject which tho portion of Scripture in hand suggests. We havo also a sermon class four days in the week, the outlines of each sermon being copied into their note-books for future use. A year ago the Rev. Harry Scott, of Chestnut College, arrived here to be my colleague. He and his amiable and devoted wifo have thrown themselves hoartily into the work, and have un questionably found their right sphere in this mission. Mr Scott has relieved me of most of the work in tho Institution, allowing mo more timo for translating and superintending tho teachers in this rapidly extending branch of tho mission. Fourteen students havo passed through tho Papuan lii-tituto, and been appointed to stations, whoro they aro doing a good work! Twelvo of them arc labouring in and near the Fly River, and two on islands in Torres Strait. It is four years i-inco v.-o received any teachers from the South Sea Islands for this branch of the mission, aud we have commenced returning thoso already here to their homes, being unsuitable for tho sickly climate of Now Guinea, and filling their places with teachers from the Papuan Institute. Thus the mission is fairly es tablished on a sound basis, and reasonable hopes may be cntortained of its steady progress. The Fly and adjacent rivers aro evidently the groat water ways into tho in terior of New Guinea. Tho population in their vicinity is most numerous; tho land the most fertile and heavily timbered ; and the climate the most Bickly, necessitating trained pioneers from amongst the people themselves, henco tho importance of tho Papuan Institute. S McFaklase, Papuan Institute, Torres Strait, New Guinea,

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, MARCH 23, 1886.

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