Mark Maynard's Wife.

iHJTBWBUJn-it a KI:U LltL

CHAPTBH XV. . last sad rites had boon paid to tho , 1 and AWa slept-under the waving ', nnd fre»h mould in the old church-

Pnt lv the" wo*to, "Asleep In Jesua,'. i then further up on the cold marble ""' , of t ho tombatono wae traced, " Alda Wrn flo;a g edl9yoar,and2lday," , t u-fia all; but oh ! hon- much it Tlf to ?he .widened hearts left behind. "n.Jbio spent hours at a time in his ;Jl' m Jama no ono, and scarcely oiv:l M \l3j. Mark aud Lota still catl"--'' i for they could not leave the kind Kntt P»'rated by grief. °W |Tnn°r perwa who could route him U« and as eho wont around, silently ffo!- , rim' to bis .vanta, gho looked indeed ?Kkind SMer of Charity 11 ualk etched hMWondectagly. Ho too truok by the resemblance iho boro to ffM nne ho had soon ; but after pondering ; '"Th" bioofc for somo time he gavo it up ??Jj?wiy fai"7- Pclhaps> yet tho romem ? « muld como baoi with startling S He had surely mot this silent, pale 'TcoK^ W°nber ■nMoDly «n the library. She wag hunting a book to 0 to bis Undo Sum ; for a moment be tMied hor *ilelltI? : t!l° sad' pal°'' M«h ---1 Haco tho rounded arm from which hor i«.va fell gracefully away as sho reached ! f book on one of the higher .helves all L°£ed rtmnifoly tomUtar to him. Her 1-mi wore in her hand, and hor eyes, F.° , n d pitifully sad, wore eagerly scan 1, the tiers of volumes. A movement TtHyed his presence, and in a twinkling thoso hateful glasses wore quickly replaced. %id I startle yoM ? ho asked, kindly, noticing her agitation. «0h !n"■' " auli tllo "usw. er waß nlr»°^t • . libio Grasping tho first book her 3 came in contact with, aha hurried How could he know that hor heart wa-< almost bursting with sorrow, and thatthis Led companion of tho dead girl was long ing toertand her arms to him and sob out k« rain on his shoulder? Ho never even JJcted that euo ran straight to her own ™m and, locking the door, sobbed bitterly orer her shattered life, and the glasses that covered her eyes ware thrown aside hur riaJr us '' slia s^oß* nateJ tno 9i Kht of ftem! I* was we" he ad not B? en tnoso •™j closely ; those wonderfwl wine-brown orbs would havo betrayed her instantly. Ilia widow's cap had fallen off, and the ■tort cliutering curls of darkest brown wr »'tos«ed and tumbled. "Oh! baby i j, a byl" she moaned, "but for you I too could die!" The atorui of grief, however, ns wpn spent; smoothing her hair plainly jcrosi her forehead and donning onco more to widow's onp and glasses, she again lO ugiit the lonely old man. He was sitting by tho window, gazing absently out; ho looked up, glad to coo hw entor. "What would I do without you I" ho Mid, sadly. " You are my only comfort 10*1" , . „ "But, MrDesbro, you must remember, the said softly, in reply, "that I havo nothing to keep mv here longer. You en ea<jtd me as companion to Miss Lorno : she jus left us, a,ad I musk go back, to Baby "Truo j I had forgotten," ho said, noting ter drooping form and saddened face. "1 have been lelliah In my grief. You can go back to your baby, but j ou cannot stay. _ I cannot get along without you, child, and roucan bring your baby witJi you to help, (hew the old man's life ! You aro alono in tha world," ho added, as sho hesitated. " Why should we not. comfort One another ? Bring yonr baby, Mrs Leo, and make this your home for the future ; I cannot forgot your kindness to tho dead !" She consented, almost etunued by her good fortune. "I thank you," she aaid, brokenly, " for uhatyou have ofl'ared me—a homo and the privilege of carine for my Baby Mark !" "What did you call him?" the old man asked, quickly; ho had noticed the name for tJw hrst time. What should eho do? Mr Deebro was watching her narrowly nnd its answered, as quietly m she could :

"His ntme is Mark, the same as that of jour nephew." " Mark L««!" the old man said, dreamily. '"Tia a strange coincidence, for Leo was aster Annie's name ?

Her heart was throbbing painfully, and toeacapoobservation aho commenced tidy ing up the room. Tho old man did not notice her agitation; ho was thinking of the baby, and in a few moments ho said nlmojt harshly:

"Mrs Lee, jou must not call your baby Mark, Call him Tom, Dick, or Harry, any tiiin^hutftat; I do not liko the narno !"

"iloiF would Sam suit you ?" fho ansiFered, quietly. "'I will call him what you irish, joa have boen ao kind to me.1'

So it was all arranged. Mrs Leo was to have a Bhort rest and then como back to tho brown stone house, bringing littio Sam with her.

Mark and Lotastilllingored, but Mark was restles?, and wandered all over the city, peering into each face as if half expecting ti meet his joung girl-wife somewhoro. 800 had seemed v.cry near to him of late : Is found himself piekuring her faco as it wed to look at Valley Farm ; first liko a dainty roeoSud, next pale and spiritless, as b the necks beforo her strange disappear jnce. Where was she now? I'erhaps bnri'd in » pauper's graro I Porhaps -and here lie stopped, for wherever sho was, his Cindice, ha knew, was pure and good. A summons to return enmo to thorn from Valley Farm, and now tho old man would M left in utter loneliness ; they wanted mm to go with them, but he would not; ho •id not toll them co, bufc ho oould not boar woeet Kezia, who had used his sister Mnieiehild BocruollT.

CHAPTER XVI,

Itorc and Leta returned to TWley Farm, widened by the ecoius just witnessed, and found their mother quito prostrated ; b«* iteison regained her usual health, and then fcirent on there as usual; bat Mark was d»n»«d more than ew, and, to hie .sisters' fcp regret and bin mother's sorrow, com "Kneed making preparations to go abroad, l cannot stay here, mother," ho said, in ™*er to her tajrs and ontroaties ; "I m* go, I fflust travel, or I believe I will s»nud!" than Mm Maynard had given « consent, When sho saw tho muto Pm) in his eyes, sho hastened his depar '™, for waß s ho not to blamo for hid Wenedlifo? Everything wai in readi mJt &n im P or;ltiTO messago was re ''«l from his uncle, commanding his im pute presence, a; he was Alda'fl heir, the if 11*'of a'l her rasfc possessions, Nover W now did Mar-k realise how woll this 2P" had loved him, sod ho thought with =« of the money left to him so unosc r-uemv; but it was lawfully his, and so ho , JJM fortTiiaogo ivith a heart hearior than

»ite Tu* Mefc him Uindly> but Mark *~ l 4 f" ltlB"1Mi is h" pre=enco, and »BIK n tho Prelimitwries woro over rich a, attcr scUM n° B'a* fabulously to fair A!da Lorno. Xsi v f°. ok 3 lator- a Tl-Vol failing from York bare Mark Maynarl among hor tlSu' M cxil° fr*ln iricnds niul J''olo6 -y«i ," nhil f'py mnn; hU own {M'ifis *S£j*m J not ln>y h™ Happiness. Ko infolf a*i? d at llie heortrtringe, and now jj'"!,n climos ho fought forgotfulness. I'bcLT Ontlllsfed all M- money matters to tow, ?"' l was i 0 sao t0 everythinc misia" hlß,!lb^iio.>. The look of hopeless hia jJw i ' youn" "liln'a face had touched »=PWr . uT'\"t ' a3t' aml be P*'Xcd hi» Mr. ['„ ' been Piriirkod ho sevorcly. Wn,f ?Soneemore domiciled at the 'tfedti, I;?"' a!ld Bllby Sam, as sho Wtiw „.l Mm bat failed eomotimea, was "aanTi v i i, t0 his "ew quarters. His first Lt t i" ftlmost Strango to him at *41, y J dint of coaxing;.nd levin.' li, I <=gud«all y bo^ma ueuatomed tS X , ; va-hodidin Rstia's bra«ny arms. "«thou" ?!'' WMftt flrst nnoonwUibio Sffi! ly!altho«BhAodidnottry to /&' m t "lltcf£.r '»>.h« yo«n K mother btkv»iKmS f"°''Knli»."6h« said, saOly, '-'»adi M to "y eomfort9d b.V h promise from i^" nOCfton a' lfl b""ff tho baby WLj? hiski"d n «™e. "Shuro ;;lSi»!.ivol v / 1 h?; t"trip'S?. U wi"*l">wid. 5 ,"-, Kltls w«» "ever stand in '"•c'-<lan i iglt!" W^h har blue ,-i be 9r to ■ u! fe L tho door, for she could i;ht, t0 watch him vauUh f rom her

Candico went away heavy-hoarted j but Mark was hors : eho could not give him up and Katie would soon got need to his ab sence

Tho mother tried at first to koep the child out of Mr Dcsbro'a eight as much as possible. Ho may not like babies," she thought norvously, and little Sam had been there several weeks beforo tho old man asked for him.

"Mra Lee," ho said suddenly one day, "whore is your baby? I have not seen him yet." "He is hero," she said, "I thought ho had disturbed you ere this ; he's a noisy little fellow," she continued, with a thrill of prido in hor gentle voice, "Go get him, my dear," Mr Doebro said, quietly. " I must become acquainted with the little follow." Candico complied, eager to show her dainty darling, but trembled when sho noticed once more the startling resemblance the child boro to his young father, now sail ing across the ocoan. Had Mr Desbro hoard aught of hor sad story? She did not know; sho could not gue°s j but if he had, and there waß at least a possibility of it, might ho not suspect her? This then would deoido it all; with tho baby, kicking and crowing lustily, eho entered the old man's prosonce, and hold hor darling out straight before him, sftyinc : "Mr Desbro, tbw is mv boy, my Baby Sam I"

She looked at him in fear. Yes, it was just an sho oxpecrod ; he was gazing at the little fellow with a woudering, surprised loobin hia eyee. "Is ho not a lino boy?" she said, trying to speak quiotly, but her voice trembled as she spoke. " Strange I never thought of that ?" he aaid abruptly. "My dear, will you tell me whiit his own narno is?"

" Mark," blio replied; hor lips could scarcely form the word.

" How old is ho?" Now Mr Dasbro was looking straight at hor. " One year old next January, tho seventh day of the month." "Just as I thought!" ho said, briefly. "Now, Mrs Leo, will you humour an oli man's whims yot a littlo further by romoving your cap and glasses ? I havo a fancy to see how you look without thorn !" Ah ! heavens ! ho knew her then, and she would coon bo homeless and friondloss onco moro ! Sho was almost tem[»tod to snatch hor baby boy eraser to hor hoart and hurry from the house ; anything rather than soo those kind old eyes harden in an<rer towar-J wishod to look upon Annie or hers again ? She did not turn and flee, however, but stood there, staring at him helplessly, Had aho not suffered enough already for this kind old man to be sparod to her !

For just ono moment Samuol Doebro waited, nnd then, before eho was aware of his intention, he had stopped to her side, and with one dextrous turn of tho hand had swept cup and glasses from hor ! There she stood bofore him, her wino browu eyes rixojl on him imploringly, a slim, dark-robed girl, with ringlets of darkest brown covering hor shapely head. There she stood, tho picture of abject woo, waiting for him to inflict still greater torture.

" L'oor child !" Tho words were spoken wftly.

Could it bo possiblo he did not quito hato her then ?

" Uncle Sam," eho gobbed, wildly, " boliovo mo, I havo done no wrong! Can you not iorgive uiy mothor now, and pity her wretched child ?"

"Fongive your mothor, girl? I have nothing to forgive, and I thank (iod that yon aro spi.red to mo in my old ago I" Now sho wot Fobbing in his nrms, and Baby Mark, in round-oyed wonder, gazed at thorn for ono rninuto, then sot up an infantile cry of nlitrm that soon recalled thsm to thenifc'tilres.

Tho wholo sad story was then repsatod. Candico dwolt as lightly as possible on her treatment at Valley Farm, and only by the drawn lips and panting breath did Uncle Bam know how much sho had sutl'ored Sho told of her appeal to hor young hus band and of her own miserablo sus picions concerning his love for Alda ; thon of her flight through the cold and darknoss, hor search for Katio and how in ended, and of hor sickness and Baby Mark.

"You know tho rest," she said, softly; how I cime in answer to your ndrerti.-o-

You toak mo in, and now Baby

Mark has betrayed me I" Uncle Sam informed hor of Mark's con fession after hor (light, of tho March wlucj^ onded so fruitlessly, anj nf Mark's muer* able, Maddened life. Candico wept softly during tho recital, but hor tears were tears of thankfulness, for was not tfho shadow

lifted from about hor life' Her young husband had acknowledged her 1

"Wo ncvar thought of tho b.aby," the old man said, sadly. "Candico, my poor

girl, how much you havo suffered through othor people's wrongdoings ! Hereafter, your life shall bo all sunshine, and Baby

Mark's bod shall bo of doirn ! \Vo will call him Mark Samuol I" bo said, plavantly, trying to bring a smile to Candico's sad young lips. " Uncle, where is Mark, my husband ?" Then ho told hor tjiat, restless and dispirited, Mark had gone over tho waters to and some "balm in Giload," if that were possible. ''I'oor Mark ! ho too ha? suffered !" Can dice said, fadly ; "but, undo, you must promise me something. When Mark roturna, I mii't don my widow's cap and classes undisturbed, and lot him find for himself tho wife ho would not acknowledge! ! I will not go to him and s»iy, ' I am Can dice ; take mo back !' Ho must win mo, proyo his lovo,,before I return to him ! ' The old man promised gladly, respecting hor tho moro for hor decision.

CHAPTER XVII. unrmw FROM abroad.

SisnsMi D*!«imo was greatly ploasod to discover his nioco in Mrs Leo, and httlo Mark became a perfect tyrant; nothing was too good for Candico and hor baby. Katie had boon installed as nurse, and was nearly wild with happiness over the way in which things had turned cut. " You rlcearve it all, Mies Candico," she said, warmly, " Shure 'tie Ratio knows tbo angol of goodness yo aro, moro shame to some that don't appreciato —" "Hush! Katie," interrupted Canrlico ; "we must not censure others. What would have become of ' the angol of good noss ' if it hadn't been for Ratio Maguiro ?"

Katie was vanquished, and spoiled little Mark the more for it. CanrJfce wan almost happy. It was only wbon she thought of Mark that her gently heart was saddened ; still sho was de termined not to call him back. Sho became bionmin" and oheerful onco moro under tho wealth of affection that was lavished upon bor. Sho yet wore hor widow's garb, loav in" off tho cap and glasses to pleaso unde Sam. "If any of tho folks came from Valley Farm," she said earnestly, " I mu3t don thorn again ; they must know me only a« Mra Loo, your late ward's companion." But no ono came from tho farm. Mrs May uard was broken in health and tho girls could not bo sparod ; so Undo Sam and Candies weje undisturbed in fehoir culm serenity. Two months, three months passed, and

still they had not hoard from tho wanderer. Ho corresponded with tho homo folks, who wrote Undo Samoccasionally.informingl-.im of Mark':; whereabouts. At last a letter came, post-marked

"London." Tho young man wrote in slowing terms of tho places ho hnd visiled. and tho sights he had soon ; but through it all ra-n such sadness that Candioo foil hot tenra blind her oyes as slio road. "X know not when I «hall como back, if over," ho wrote in conclusion. " I hare nothing loft to cill mo homo save mother and tho girls, and they can do without mo. Perhaps this restlessness will wear away at last, and then I will rqjiirn." A few clays later, at. Uncle Sam f> dictation, Cmdrco auswerel Mark's letter, stating how hia business affairs stood, and then giv ing all ths items they thought might lie of interest to him. She pressed a kiss upon tho written words orcr which her young husband's eyes would wander. Month after month elapsed ; Baby Mark was now walking all over the house, his fond nurse, Katie, watching him raptur ously an she noted each nowly gained infant accomplishment. " He's tho smartest baby in tho world . she said, shaking her Aery head knowingly ; "shuro Katie's travelled c'onr from auld Ireland, aad she nivcr saw tho likes of him before !" Of course, Uncle Sain and mmn ma acquiesced in thi? decision The homo folks at Valley Farm heard strange rumours in regard to Uncle Sam ana tlio young widow in wkom he had taken *0 much interest; such interest, m /act, that even Alda's death had lost ite bitterness. Somo actually went so far as to say that an old fool i< the bigptost fool of all, and that there wa« no knowing what might happen, for report credited the widow with being very lovely. Mrs Maynard wrote to Mark about it, wandering if it could be trad, and for once Mark waa interested in the news from home. He recalled tlie young widow

who liadinterastedhimsostrangely. "Somo low adventuress" his mother termed her, but ho thought of Candico and turned half angry from the lei.tor. .Might not his wife bo wandering somewhere on earth, nlono and friendless, as this widow eceined to bo ! If she should find a homo in her dire ox-

tromity, might not these same motives bo

imputed to his puro white darling ? Ah 1 no! ho would not judge this fair young widow who had found refuge beneath hia uncle's roof !

Mark read tho letters from his Uncle Sam, written in a delioato fomulo hand, with moro interest than heretofore, and unconsciously, when lw answered them, poured out his very soul on tho paper's smooth, white surface. He wroto to her not as tho adventuress, but as tho black robed Sister May ho had seen so devoted to fitir Alda Loitie ami to tho kind old man who, in his bereavement, would have suuk beneath tho burden but for the cheering words spoken by hor sweot, patient voice. Undo Sam, after tho first lottor came, n«Terseomodihall'so much in torested in Mark's wanderings as ho had heretofore boon ; when the uoxt one arrived ho handod it to Candico, saying : "You road it, my dear! a-nd toll mo how ho ii. I beliovo tho boy is crazy to write such letters to hia old undo ; I don't want to hear tho trash ! 1 oun't understand it!"

Candioo was glad ; she could not bear to rond hor husband's opistlos aloud, for it seomed to her like sacrilege t» do so. Soon Uncle Sam's name was unconsciously dropped, nnd tho letters', postmarked from dai'orent oities in the old country, urero simply directed to Mrs Leo. Was it not siftgulnr that this husband and wife should be writing to each othdr as tho veriest strangers? But so it was, and Mark caught himself thinking about this Mrs Loo moro than he cared to admit.

Flo hnd known vary littlo aboii.t his young wife aftor all; and ho thought wondoringly, as ho gazed at the last letter from tho Queen City, that ho had movorsoen hor handwriting —his wooing had boon brief and thoir mar ried life a mistake Mortified and heart broken, Candico had left him without a word or a written line.

Letters passed frooly botweon Mark a id

I.is unclo's protojjit, and thoughts of homo frequently intruded themselves upon tho young man. 110 had boon absent a year, and was longing for n sight of familiar faces. One night, n tow weeks afterwards), ho stood on Hio deck of a homeward-bound vessel, gaxing at the fast-vanishing shore lie was loaviiiK behind.

Sometimes ho was <jl.nl ho was returning, and then ho felt Migered that ho hud obeyed his heart's impulses and was speeding back to tho homo where naught but disappoint ment could poesibly await him.

Ho Font a tolegratn to his undo, when ho arrived in Now York, to inform him that ho would bo with him in a few days Tho news came, liko a clap of thunder in their midst.

" What shall I do, uncle?" Candico said, tremblingly, "110 must not know mo; I must again put on my cap and glasses. " " Wear your glasses, my dear," tor nude responded, smoothing hor short curls affec tionately, "but do not cover these! Ho will not know thorn. Ho remembers them as red, and thoy aro darkest brown now."

Sho consented : but oh ! how sho dreaded to meet Mark ! Would ho not recognise her immediately ?

Baby Mark, through somo strange infan tile freak, called Undo Sam papa. In vain thoy strove fco teach him to say grandpa as more suitablo ;it was always papa !

CHAPTER XVIII. HOME AtAIN, EAtiKKi.v Mark ascended tho i-tops of the bruwu-stono mansion and rany tho boll. All ! it was doli^'litful to bo at home again. tlo realised now what it was to bo a wan dorer for ovei in n. strange laud. Aftor all home is the deatfcst spot on earth !

The sorvant was very lung in answering tho summons, and, impnttont at the delay, Mark opened tho door and entered tho old hallway. A tiny figure ciuno toward him. it was B.iby Murk ; ho had escaped from Katio and was trying to tlnd Uncle Sam. wlio always petted and caressed him. He

sa*- tho wanderer standing in tho hallway ami toddled forward eagerly ; t'no littlo ono did not notioo that he was a etrangor, but, stretching out his small arms, suki. coax ingly :

" Oil ! l't-o foiiad my pitty papa ! Won't oo hold me tight mid not lot Katie (md

me." Mark, seeing the child's mistftko, took tho chubby treasure in hi< aruia and ki-wd him passionately. He, 100, ho thought, mi};ht havo had n wife and oliild l>ut for his folliu.s : now lio must \i\a his life Mono ; and hot (.car.-- foil on tho little fellow c curly head,

" What oo crying for ?" said baby, look ing up at him wonderingly. Sura enough, what was lie crying for?

lliby Mark was a precocious child, never afraid of strangers, and. after tho riist amaze 1 look when ho found out his mistake, ho rested contontodly in (ho strong arms encircling h'tn. With tho child still cling ing about his neck, Mark cntorod tho fit ting room, whore ho know his undo epent must of his time. Yes ! thcro lie was, sitting by tho fire, half asleep. " Undo !" "Bless my soul, Mark! is that you?' the old linn exclaimed, rising Iri.-tily and shaking the extended ham,!. "J am glad to sco you, my dear biiy ; but where did you find tho baby';" ho continuec1, gazing in a-'.onishrnent at (h<3 child clinging so contentedly about the young man's net'k. "Don't ho belong horo?'' M w !; asked. "J found him in tho hallway, hunting for his 'pitfcy pans,'and thought ho was some visitor's child." " Yos, ho Ixtlongs. horo," Undo Sam answoredj hastily; "ho is Mra Loo's little boy." " Ah ! indeed !" mid Mark gazed at (ho child curiously. What a [mo b»y he was ! Tho young man had not thought much of hi' own appcarnnco lately, or he certainly would have noticed tho startling rcsem bianco thu child bore to himself. The little fellow ivm titling contentedly in Mark's lap, when tho door opened foftly and somo ono paused on tho threshold. Undo Sam glaneid up quickly an i noticed a timid, shrinking, girlish figure standing thoro. " Como in, my dear. ' Candico advanced quietly, but her oyes behind the dark-hucd glasses wore wild and troubled. . " This U my nephew, Mark Mayuard, Mrs toe" Sho held out her hand to welcome him, and ho olasp'jd ifc lightly. Jlo did not rccognbo her, although tho fair profile turned toward him v.\x startlingly familiar. Tho hair deceiwd him—these rippling waves of darkest brown. "Como to nmmma, baby; nmvo wants yon," ("nndico said, coaxingly, anxious to escape from tho room. IJut baby would not stir ; ho only clung tho tighter to his unknowu friend.

.It was a str.ingo sight, this lovoly baby clinging no closely about Mark's nei:k ; and he, unconscious ifc was his own child ho was caressing, was pleased at hia infantile r bolllin.

"Lot him stay, my doar," the old man said, kindly ; " 100 ha 3 taken a notion to Mark !

Candico, her oyes dim with tsars, hurried from tho room.

Mark lingered fir .«evcral wec'fc'ifithocity, as his busiress required considerable atten tion, 110 told hid undo lie li id nor. touched one emit of Alda'a money foj cause ho folt no unworthy of her generosity. Day by clay Mark was thrown into tho society of Mrs Leo and her baby boy, but somehow he brul never noticed Rfitio. He often found himself wondoring who it was Mrs Leo roaombled so muoli, and it enmo to him suddenly that it was C^ndice, his wronged young wife! From tho fanciod resemblance ho boenmo fond of her society, and was con tented only in her presence. Somotimos ho imagined slio too felt interested in him. What did it mean, ho rppcatodly asked himself, this interest ho folt in ono who rumour reported wnn soon to bo tho old nrm's bride? What was shjo or her baby to him ? And his ?.id heart answered, 11 Xctbing !" It \r»< part of his punish ment perhaps, ho thought, bitterly, to lind this fair, fftd woman who resembled his lost wife, and regard hor with love that could bring him ntwght but piin ! Ono eronintr, after his uncle- had retired and when Mrs Leo, with somo dainty necdle-n-ork in her hand, waesitting quietly fswinrr by the light of the chandelier, he determined to tell her Vtia sad experience. Why should ho not? He was going sway in iKn morning, and her pity would be something for ifim to think of in the yoarj to come. "Mrs Lee," ho s«id, sadly, " I should UUo to tell you my lifo story. Would you earo to listen to me?" She nodd'.d her head gontly. It was coming it last, this story she knew so well! ~ Was ho m repontant as he eeemod ': She would know everything now ! "I made a great mistake," ila.k said, with a quiver of pain in his young voice,

"amistako that has wrecked my fondest hopes I" And then ho told her all, blaming himself alono for his unhappino=B. Ho said in conclusion: "Do you think lean over be happy again, Mrs Leo ? 1 have not yot told you I havo prosumed to lovo onco moro I It can do no harm to inform you," he continued, dreamily, " that I, with my ruined lifo, havo darod to lovo you, Mrs Loo, knowing as I do that I can never ollor you my heart and hand !"

She loekod up quickly, joyously; ho loved her then, after all this weary waiting! He loved hor, and hnd been true to bis young wifo always! Hor work dropped from her nerveless hands ; but sho could not rovoal hor.solf yot, no ! no !

" Your story saddens mo," sho said, in a low tone, " but I am greatly interested in it. I also havo had troubles of which I will tell you in tho morning, if you desire to listen. I, too, havo been foolish onongh to care for you !'

Sho quitted him without another word, and ho was alono. She cared for him then ! Wai it not bitterly unjust that ho should suiter so cruelly for tbnt one wrong com mitted in his youth 1 He would sock her in tho morning, bid hor good-bye, nnd go abroad again after visiting the folks at homo ; ho could mil romniu bora longer. What was that? Tho door-boll ringing at this late hour in tho evening ! Mark answered it. hastily ; a meosengor boy stood on tho door-stop. Mark took tho tologram; it was addressed to himself, and opening it ho read: " Como homo at onco. Alick." Booking hb undo, Mark told him of the messayo, and then at onco prepared for his departure, I To be Continual.)

LILLIS; OK, Till Mystery of Langdon Abbey.

By MISS SAKA.II PARK, Author of " Tho St. Ahorn Gnve-cup,"" Robbed of a Crime," •■ My Liidj 's Wot." ■• Mndntno Juliotto," "Tho Severed Lives," &o. CHAPTER I. A HOMHNTOI'X INTKJtVIBW. This swash of thosoa carao sullenly up from tho Cornish const, and tho sough of tho wind uiftdo woird moan and shriek about Mio old Abbey walla. Within tho walls in a library rich with tho lore of agos, und furnished with princely lnagnitieenco, a man eat gloomily listening, now and tlion lifting his bowed head with a sharp, alert movoiaont, as if expectant of some other sound. Directly it camo—a quick but cautious tap upon tho closed shutters of one of tho long, low windows. "At lust ! ho muttered, Speaking tho words he rose from his soat beside tho tablo, extinguished tho light, anil groped his way to tho window. In a moment it was open. "Is it you, Lawrence?" ho asised, softly, gazing out at tho figure, baroly discernible in tho double darkness of tho night and tho overhanging branches of tlio overgreon

" Yea, my lord—Lawrence," was breathed ,» softly in reply,

"tiivo mo jour hand So! Tho room il dark."

The man safe within, thu ("huttorn woro closed, tho curtain* chopped, mid the lamp relighted.

Fur n moment tlio two .--tood looking at each other.

His lordship looked with a koan, incisive pi/v thrt would fain huvo penetrated tho suul uf thu man boforu him, w.Vilo tho man returned it with 0110 of uneasy inquiry and doubt.

Ilia lordship broke tho filenco,

'■ V.-.v are lato," ho enid, Then, suddenly interrupting the explnn.it isii pitting tlio maa'.-i lips, added quickly : " It does not unttor. You are hsro now, Sit down."

He pointed to a chair opposite tlio one ho li-iti jii.~fc vacated, at thosauio time ro seating himself.

'Jiiu'io \va« another momont of silcnco, in whiuli they loukeil at each ollmr, in thy un shaded plow of the Around lnmp fiillini- full upon both.

Si* ioidsliip was n mnn well past sixty. Ho was ?hort ami thin, and tlio waxen whiteness of his delicate features spoko plainly oi somo wearing disease. His hair mid boui.i vrcro an iron nro>' '• liis oyos small, dark, and unpleilflint in a cer tain vindictivencfg of expression that had survived ovon the brood ing melancholy anil u:ircst etauipcd tij.on hia countenance,

Thoman soiiitciitlyteg.uding him wan also fhortatulslim, but quite ten yoarf younger and in p -rfeot health, liv was beardles-, ot light complexion, and tho prevailing expression of hi-< largo featured laco ono nf indolent good nature. ITu had onco sorvod his lordship as valet From that position ho had retired twonty years before It was at tho timo of their return from a protracted slay on tho Continent with the motherless heir to the onrldom of Langdon.

From that timo to this tho two had nevor mot.

Js'ow tho ox-valot'n anxiety ovorboro his respect. Ho .spoke first. "Your lordship's nofo," ho paid—" your lordslrip's note, with its dark hint?, and tho summon* hero, flustorod rao. 1 hopo nothing is nmies, my lord ?" Thcro was a moment's pause. Tho an s\vor. flow, brief, emphatic, followed : "Something irf amiss. I ropent 1" said ♦ho onrl. Lawrence Hood fell back before the an^ivor as if ho hnd boen struck.' Tho noxt instant ho erred,' tremulously : " What does your lordship moan ? Not — not-" "Yo»; I moan Hint!" returned tho earl, as Lawronco tintehed his question with a muto, plonding look. " I moan that when I am gone the wrong shall ho righted—the Ho confessed, 1 have sent for you to toll you so, and—to pay you for tho disappoint ment." " It's hard lines on Bobby—it's rory hard on Bobby, after being brought up to it!" murmured tho ox-valet, in troubled tones. " Hard linos ! And what of these twenty years in which ho has lived like a prioco? And theso last, four, in which ho has run riot in vico, wasting my substance, and dis gracing tho nnmo of 1-angdon overy hour that ho breathed ? Hard linos ! Ah ! cursed bo tho hour when I vongefully exulted your low-born son to my sido ns tho rightful hoir to my titlo and es—" Ho stopped, starting violently, while Lawrence Hood sprang to hia foot, and phot a ulanco of questioning alarm about tlio length and breadth of tho room With tho sough of thn wind and tho swash of tho broaking waves a quick, hissing breath had scorned to mingle. " Wo are not alono l" said tho ox-valet, in smothered accents. " That was a man's —" "Ifc was a freak of the wind. Now and thon it hisses up tho chimney like some hu man thing," interposed the earl, recovering himself. "Besides, no one could bo horo ; Iho place has boen closed for the past six weeks Thoro ! Hoar tint!"

l/iwrcnco turned toward tho h'roless hearth, liritonod a moment, and snt down again convinced. Tho earl roxutnod.

But diiortly a pair of blazing eyes peered ciutiously from behind tho massive back of a lounge in a distant corner of tho room, and watched thespjakor with a lixod anddoadly malevolent gaze. "Yes, I repent!" wont on the earl, his voice quivering with all tho bitter passion with which ho had before spoken. "Hois a curso to mo, a disgraco to my proud na no, and will soon bo a post—"

Lawrence hood's easy good-nature gave way a triflo. Ho interposed, a little sullonly : "Tho bay might have done well enough if hod been left to his own kind, and the earning of un honest living."

" Evil is in him," answered tho earl, flilonciag the outburst with a peremptory wavo. of tho hand. "But he shall have grace— double grace—both time and monoy. Dc-pite my ill health, I may livo for some years ; and while 1 livo he shall continue to be recognised as my eon ; but when I die— the lawful heir will assume his riyht."

FJo pauped, and took from hu breast a roll of bank note1?.

Ho unfoldod it.

Ho resumed

"I ?aid he should have nione}'. Hero it is. Invest ir, ready for his hour of need. He has been educated to expensive habitß, and it is only an act of justice on my part to secura him tho means of a fresh and honour able start in life."

"As usual, your lordEhip is munifi cent," returned Lawrence, Mmn^hat ap peased by tho amount plaet-d ia nU hands. "But I wonder your lordship don't wait

till—till tho ond comes—(ill you are gone." " Ono thingonlywill bo iono inthismattor when I am gono -tho proofs of my deception established. I choose, for various reasons, to indemnify Robort now or never." Ho spoke with quick, storn emphasis, and rose, thus declaring the interview endel. But as ho roeo ho laid a few notes, extracted from tho sum just beetowed, across Hood's hand, " It is tho prioo of your disappointment," ho said. The ex-valefc renewed his thanks, and thon added, with a touch of bin fortuor sulkinoss : " Anothor man wouldn't take a price— he'd hold your lordship to jour burgain. ' But I'm too easy, and ready to mako terms—" " Since it would bo impossible to do any thing elso!" intorposod tho carl, with haughty scorn. " But it grows late-it is time you wore going." " Well, I suppose your lord'hip's right: anyhow I'm too easy. I wish your lord ship luck and a long life, especially for poor Bobby's sake." He bowed, moved to tho window that had admitted him, and the earl extinguished the light. A minute later the oarl was alono.

"Tho first step takpn !" he muttored, as tho flatno of the lamp again shed its glow about tho room, " but—tho second ?"

Ho loft tho table and began walking to and fro in short turns, his chin upon his breast;, his hands clonched at his back.

"No," ho pro3ontly wont on. "I will not do that. Robert, lam convinced, has more than onco opened my escritoire. lam hero. I will make it safe here. His dis honourable hands must nevar fall upon it. For since I cannot cover myself with shamo by a confession during my life, I will insure Ufl publicity whon lam dead. Gibbs ia out of London at presont ; but this day week he returns. This day weok, than, I place a sealed paper in his hands with instructions to open it immediately after my death. That paper will simply state whero and how another paper at Langdon Abbey is to be found, That other paper found, justice will bo dona. It is a late ropontance, but, thanks to Heaven, not too late. I shall die in joice." He Btopped his hurried walk, seated him self at tho table, and took from onu of its drapers a supply of writing materials.

For the next, hour tho profound ailonco of the room was broken only by the rapid scratch of hi« pen.

And for tho next hour the secreted watchor bided his time. Onco he roso and made a few stealthy stops in tho direction of tho absorbed writer, as tho latter eat with his back toward him, and tbon, suddenly changing his purpose, ho smiled darkly, and rotreated again. The earl finished his task.

Hi? hands were cramped and blue with cold but a restful eatisfiwMnn composed his features.

Ho lighted a wax candle standing on ho

tablo, and tnking np tho carefully-sealed document, loft the room. In a moment tho secreted man was on his feet. He was a toll, dark, lithe young fellow, woll formed and handsome, the world said. But at this moment his aspect was that of a Bond incarnate. Jlis olive skin waß livid even to the lips, just showing.through the coal-black mus tache, and hie coal-black eyea scintillated with the deepeßt and deadliest malevolence. Mo leaped to the door by which the earl had departed, and, placing his ear against tho crack, listonad to tho steps ringing lightly from tho marble floor of the haU without. "Ah!" ho laughed evilly, after a little, " ho takes that way ! —As I thought!" He opened the door softly. He leaned out cautiously. Tho next instant he stepped from the room, reclosed the door, and ran headlong toward another, from which issued a faint ray of receding light.

CHAPTER 11. A DANOEBOCH SPY, The Earl of Langdon'sunsuspected nurduer reached the door, glanced into the long Btono passage on which it opened, and again darted fleetly forward. As he did so, tho earl, visible at tho ox trome end, disappeared, and the light with him. But, dark as it was, the pursuer ran on boldly. The passage was empty, and his boots woro carefully felted. Arrived at the spot where the earl had vanished, ho turned sharply into another passage, some ten feet long, and descending by a few broad stone steps to an ancient sacristy. Tho sacristy openei into as anciont a chapel. Hi 3 lordship had already entered and crossed the formor, and was in the act of swinging back tho chapel door. With his unseen pursuer cautiously upon his heels, he passed into the chapel.

Despite its great age, it had beim kopt in a state of excellent preservation ; but the dim aisles, high altar, long, slit-like windows, ancient bonchos, and huge cur tained family pew, looked strangely weird in the dull flickering gleam of the candle.

Tho two men saw nothing of its weird ness. Each was intent upon nia purpose. Lord Langdon emerged from the sacristy iv tho shadow of the towering pulpit's winding stairs.

But onco within the chapel his step slackened.

Directly he stopped. Ho looked thoughtfully toward a low iron door, a few feet in the rear of the pulpit.

The door opened into the crypt of the old eepulchred Langdona.

After a moment the earl, as if casting off all doubtß, moved briskly toward it, and, taking a key that hung in a little niche close Dy, proceeded to insert it in the lock.

The key inserted, he suddenly paused. Moved by some mysterious inßtinct he suddenly turned around. His pursuer, cautiously alert, was jußt stealing out of sight beyond the pulpit stairs.

The earl saw him,

With an angry aspiration and a lightning movement he thrust the candle into the niche and leaped the space between them,

The fellow tried to flee. The earl was too quick for him. In tho semi-darkness benoath the over shadowing pulpit ho seized him as he darted crouchingly among the benches. " You villain I" he cried. " You insolent villain I And you have dared to watch me !

His hand fastened firmly upon the back of the fellow's coat collar, ho hurried him head long round to the sacristy door. " You villain I" he went on, " how did you mako your way—" There his voice failed. His hand dropped to his side like lead.

The light from the glimmering candle had suddenly shown him the captive's face. Like one struck with catalepsy he stared at tho face.

It only mocked him with glittering eyeß and curling lips. Presently he stirred, muttering faintly, dazedly :

"Robert!" At that the curling lips opened. " Robert!—Robert—Hood, at your Ber vice I"

Again the earl stood dumb, motionlesß. Again the young fellow mocked him with silent lipa and scintillating eyes. At last Lord Langdon faltored, uncer tainly :

" I—thought you were in—in Paris." '"I am here, my good fatter!" He laughed evilly, paused a moment, and then went Bneeringly oti:

" One day you left a letter on your writing-table addressed to Lawrence Hood. I read the superscription with a certain surprise. In the course of years I had learned that a Lawrence Hood had once been your valet. Why should you be writing to your old valet? I asked myself that question with rising curiosity, I answered it in my own way. I opened the letter. As you can imagine, its contents only whetted my curiosity. I resolved to be present at the interview at Langdon Abbey on tho evening of the 18th of November, I was present. I—am here ! Need I Bay for what purpose? Need I say I am not 'catty,' like my revered parent? I think not. I think you understand that I meant to quietly possess myself of the proofß that Solicitor Gibbs was tofind. I think ysualeo understand I mean now to have them, and likewise to insist on the absolute relinquish merit of your design. I propose, my excel lent father, not only to retain my exalted position during the term of your life, but long after your bones have been sepulchred with your ancestors. So that paper, if you please ! Next, if you please, the irro vocable promise of a Langdon." He paused, his hands extended, his eyes fixed menacingly upon the earl's Tho response was as unexpected as sud den.

Before he knew what had happened to him the earl had swung him off his feet, and he lay in a heap beyond the pulpit stairs. The next instant the candle was extin guished. . Tho next tbore was a quick sound of a grating key, a soft, almost noiseless rush, and all was still.

Surprised, confused, enraged, the defea :ed man struggled up with a savage oath.

But the oath died on his lips as that gentle rush caught his ears.

"Hal" he breathed. " And you are go ing back, are you ? Well, I'll be in time. It's just the same to me whether we have it out there or hero."

Ho groped his way to the sacristy, his lips drawn from his teeth like a wild beast in pursuit of its proy.

He moved on cautiously, and with listen ing oar ; but not a sound broke the silence, Ho burst into tho library.

It was empty. " Outwitted !" ho hissed. " I have come upon a fool's errand. While I have been wasting time in coming here, he has entered the crypt, and made his escape by the chapel." Ho enatchod up the Argand lamp, and rushed back to the scone of hie defeat.

As the bright light streamed from the sacristy door, ho was brought to a startled pause. The oarl's voice, echoing sepulchrally from soino unknown quarter, called, sternly : "Ceaee your efforts — they will prove un availing. Tho paper is safe. Justice shall be dono."

At first young Hood glared around in a dull, confused uncertainty.

One moment the voice seomed strangely near, the next as fir away.

Was it tho effect of the echoes ? And was it tho vast, empty space that gave the stern tones that chillingly solemn and hol low sound?

A sudden current of air, striking hia cheek nnd flaring the flame of tho lamp, all at once roused him to activity.

He put down the lamp, and rushed to the great doors at the further end. Tney were faat.

Ho ran to a small side door, not far from tho pulpit. It also was fast. But the key was in the look, and, as he knew, the lock caught almost noiselessly into a Bpring. Tho blast of air had como from the open ing and closing of that door. The earl was making his way through tho Abbey grounds to the station. Ho chuckled at the thought. A murder ous rovenge blazing from his eyes, he tore open tho door, secured the key, and shut himself out in the darknesn of tho night. Nearly an hour lator he returned, pale, breathless, dishevelled, and furious. The earl had not been found. He cast one malignant glance toward the crypt as he seized the lamp, but made no pauoo. " Any time will do for that," he hissed. "Now for the part he has driven me to play." CHAPTER 111. THE EARL'S VISITOR. Two nights subsequent to the events just recorded, the Earl of Langdon was slowly pacing the length of his drawing-room in Belgrave Square when a servant entered bearing a note. " The messenger waits for an answer, my lord," said the man.

Lord Laugdon broke the seal, and moved nearer the light. Tho sheet contained these few linos: "L. H. is not satisfied with the deoislon and arrangement of tbe 10th- Ho wishes to make a proposition ijijikwamlv."

The earl's pale face flashed slightly, but be did not speak until he bad thrown both note and envelope among the blazing coals of the open fire. Then he turned to the footman, " Do you know the messenger ?" he asked quietly. "No, my lord." Something like a breath of relief escaped tho earl, but he said, quietly ac before: " Very well. You can chow him to the library. I will be there directly." But it was some minuteß before he went.

Tho door closed upon the footman, he re sumed his interrupted walk; his brows un easily knit, and his thoughts uneasily busy with the contents of the note.

Ho finally left the room with these deter mine! words :

"Yes, if he goes too far I will brave the disgrace and proclaim the truth at once I" As he crossed the hall a pair of light feet ran to tho balustrade above, and a soft voice called hurriedly.

The speaker was too late. In hia pre occupation the earl heard neither step nor voice, and just at the moment that a beau tiful girlish face bont, eager and smiling, over the balustrade, he snut the library door.

Within the library he was confronted by a tall stout, heavily-bearded man.

A pair of green spectacles, together with the iron grey beard and low-growing hair of same colour, almost entirely concealed the stranger's features, but his general aspect stsuck the earl as singularly unpleasant and repulaive. He was standing motionless, a few feet from tho door, when it oiiened; but the in stant the earl entered, advanced a step, and bowed respectfully. Lord Langdon strode to him, with frown ning brow. " You come from Lawrence Hood," he Eaid, in low, quick, harsh accents. "What does he want? What—" Ho paufed, rocoiling with a smothered cry bcfoio tho hissing voico that broke upon him. " This, my lord, and this only, for—' dead nun tell no titlcti !'" A long, keen, glittering blade rose, flashed in the air, and descended. It went straight and sure to its mark. One faint, gurgling sigh, and the earl fell dead. " Fool ! dotard ! lie there !" hisaed the assassin, spurning the prone form.

The impious words were lost in a smothered curse, and a wild, glaring look toward the hall door.

For a moment he stood petrified. The next the door swung open. The next the two voices he had just heard without rang upon the silence in a piercing shriek that echoed from one end of the house to the other.

"The fiends take you I" breathed the assassin. "I am ruined !"

The thought inspired him with new life.

He leaped to the door, hurling aside the elderly lady, who stood in advance, with a form that sent her staggering againat the walL

But before he could do more two email hands had eeized his arm—the delicatehands of the beautiful girl who had appeared at the balustrade above.

With horrified eyes and a white, horrified face, she cried boldly : " Monster ! Asaassin ! You shall not escape 1" " Lillis ! Lillis I" Bhrieked the elderly lady, frantically, from the wall. "Are you mad ? Lot him go !He will murder you too!"

A prolonged scream of utter terror ended the command as Bhe saw the girl's deter mined courage and the wild struggles of the captive to free himself. But frightened voices and rushing feet were coming nearer and nearer. The girl took fresh hope, tho aeeassin fresh alarm.

Ho knew that in another minute he would bo lost.

"Ten thousand curses!" he panted, whisperingly, bb he made a last effort to strike off the clinging hands. It was a savage blow. The fingers loosed,and the girl dropped swooning to the floor.

" Great heavens ! be has murdered her too !' screamed the other lady, rushing fsr ward and sinking upon her knees beside the prostrate form as the assassin bounded into the hall. "Oh, my child! my child !my Child 1"

As the last wailing words left her lips the servants crowded wildly upon the scene, but only to «tand petrified by the sight that met their eyes. In the horror and ensuing confusion the assassin made his escape quietly. He went down the steps and along the street with the unconcerned air of an in offensive citizen, though every pulae was throbbing, and every sense painfully on the el«rt for the pursuit that might at any moment begin. But gradually his pace quickened and quickened, and he was speedily lost in the murky gloom of smaller and safer streets. In one of the darkest and moat insignifi cant of these he made a stop. When, a few minutes later, he issued forth again he was another man, and a Btout stick, with a neat bundle of rough clothing strung upon it, lay hidden under a flight of wooden steps. " If found," he thought, " it will only be Borne beggerly wanderer's pack stowed there for safe-keeping. Either way I'm aafe."

With light, elastic step he hurried on, turning finally into a mean but respectable street, where he made a second pause. It was at the step of a small, shabby house.

He took a key from his pocket, opened the door, and was about to enter, when a hand fell heavily on his shoulder, and a voice spoke quietly, but with the slow, life less rigidity of an automaton, he turned and What he saw in the misty light of the looked.

distant street lamp absolutely paralysed him'

CHAPTER IV. THE ASSASSIN'S FRIEND. The voice that the assassin had heard was a voice he well knew. The face that he saw wae a face unknown. la his terror and confusion it seemed an inexplicable mystery. While he still glared mute and motionless, hie captor spoke again, laughing softly, dan gerously. " lt'emyeelf, doarjfriend, and nobody else, Am I loss capable of assuming effective dis gui?es than you ? —But come in. Come in." Roused by the dreadful,half-spoken word, the assassin broke upon him in fierce, smothered tones. " AH right," answered the other, with his soft daogorous laugh. " It's an ugly word even uttered in my whispered accents. We'll take counsel between four safe walls." The door shut.them in. As the light flared up in the little bare room they had entered, the assassin cast away the spent match and turned furiously upon his guest. "What are you doing in London?" he cried. " Why are you not in Paris ? How is it that you are playing the spy upon me instead of playing the part I assigned—" " Your voice rises!—beware !" interposed the guest, with mingled mockery and earnestness. " The little den in which the red-haired, gentlemanly doctor has estab lished himself for his deep chemical re searches will afford a safer place for dangerous speech. Let us seek the den." With an oath and a scowl the assassin led the way into a smaller room back, fitted up roughly as a laboratory. There he again turned upon his unwel come companion. But too latter was busy removing' his own red wig and whiskers, and instead of responding to the fiery outburst, said, nonchalantly : -

"As they havo served their purpose, I will give them to the devouring flames. I, you know, have nothing to fear but the danger of being caught here in your com pany, and so, unlike yourself, can discard them wi— Oh," suddenly breaking off, as he turned from the little stove, "you needn't glare at the door. For the present you are safe enough. I made sure I was the only man on jour track." " What are you doing on my track?" buret out the white-lipped listener, furiously. "And what do you mean by your insane accusation ? I have committed no mur— crim9. I haye chosen to play a little farce here for the sake of keeping an unsuspected eye on Lillis Melross ani that puppy, Cyril Chosney—" " Who, in case |you come to the gallows, will wear not only your title, but the in comparable Lillis you love so madly." A fierce onset and clutch at his throat checked him for a moment.

The next he had flung his assailant, thrust him down upon one of the rude wooden chairs, and seated himself in front of him.

"Now," he Baid, sternly, a threatening glitter in his small, gray eyes, " you and I will come to a clear understanding, if you please. Firßt of all, know that I have been on your track day and night since the hour you came to me to personate you in Paris. Second, know that / know you are a murderer. Third, Lord Robert, know that I am your — master. You have made yourself Earl of Langdon, you will now make me something, too, or go to the gallows. I need not ask your choice. We have been comrades long enough to—" "Cboioo!" burst in Hood, fiercely, " What choice have you left me.you viper ! I should be in Paris at this moment!"

"And so you are." Hood stared at him in a savage stupidity. "What do you mean, Antony Folger?" he cried the next moment.

" That in prosecuting my own interests I was not forgetful of jours. My trusty, gentlemanly, good-natured valet personates you creditably and to the life. His fair skin—"

"Your valet! And you have placed mo in the power of your valet! By Heaven, Tony—" " Hold ! No bad words ! No threats ! And rest easy. You aro in my power alone. I would not share it with my valet, you may be sure. Ho believes a pleasant little fiction that does you no great discredit as a gay Lothario. But just here I would make you understand one thing. While I suspected you of some evil design that might result in giving mo tho whip-hand of you, not the faintest idea of your real purpose entered my mind. No ! else you'd now be guiltless of the blood of your own old father ! Even at the loss of all the power I've gained over you, I would have saved you, Bob. What fiend tempted you, man ? Vv'ere you so in love with your prospective title ? Pah ! but that I'm so hard up, and you will prove bj useful, I'd be done with you for ever." . " You lie !" burst in Hood, with a last im becile attempt at denial. "I've killed no body." " You've killed your own father ! I know it. The area door was unfastened. I entered tho houee. I crept unnoticed at tho heels of the servants when tho outcry called them to tho library. I saw you make your escape." Hood started to his feet, poured out a volley of curses, and thon, all at once changing his tone, cried sullenly : "Yourprico? Name it! And be quick! I must be off for Paris, and time presses."

"It is quickly enough named. Carte blanche for money ; a home with you when ever I desire ; and—more if I choose."

There was something so >',: !lcint in the tone of those concluding words that Hood glared at him with new uneasinese.

"Whatdoyoumean?" he asked, savagely " What more, I'd like to know, could you ask f"

"Oh, most anything: A fine stud; a West End house; or a valuable seat—Lang don Abbey, for instance." Hood's stained skin took a livid hue. The prompt nonchalance of tho reply covered something, he knew, but themention of Langdon Abbey sent a deadly chill to his soul, Coald Tony Folger have scented out that vital secret ? The next instant he re membered that Tony's friendly »rrvW« had been asked subsequent to the lalui uip to Langton Abbey.

He said angrily: " You are modest. But as tho real estate is entailed I can only agree to Buch domands as—"

"You mean you will?" interposed Tony, who had been regarding him curiously. "Dare I say I will not ?"

That fiercely passionate quostiuii re turned, he began making certain rapid pre parations for his journey. Tony Folger watched him, quietly re volving his own astuto thoughts. "From anxious, wrathful doubt of the. drift of my words to a suddun. livid alarm at the mention of Langdon Abbey," hu s:iid to himself. " What does it meun ? What terror hangs about Langdon Abbey ? I don't know, but -/ will !" He had just reached that conclusion when Hood turned to him, saying grullly, :ia he took up his hat: "I am going. Is it your plofisuro to re main here ?"

Tony got quickly upon his feet and seized his own hat with an ixpressive Bhrug. " On tho contrary, I will preccdo you," ho said, hurrying to the front room. "I have no desire to identify my?elf with the German chemist in any shape or way. I need not say why. Good night, and—Satan speed you ! I don't care to see you hung, Bob."

" One moment!" called Robert, hoarsely. " You are sure there will be no dangerous blunders ? I may depend on your ralet's shifting himself intelligently from his present quarters and allowing mo to appear in my own person at another hotel with out—"

" You may," interjected Tony. " Atthe precise moment and preciso place you have designated he will be on hand to ns3ume your present character, and to quietly dis pose of the learned German. Have no fears. Borden is both true and unsuspicious. I only trust other dangers may not threaten you ; for, as I have said, 1 don't want to see you hung,' " What dangers ?" " A sharp detective to travel with you, for instance." "There'll be no time." He spoke contemptuously, but a quick shudder belied his tone. " I hope not," answered Tony. Hood's smouldering rage bur^ o'if His stained skin turned from ilorid to crimson. He cried, chokingly, 1>;" flsis doubled and the veins standing cutd-like from his brow: " Is it not enough that you have hounded me here—base, prying puppy that you are ! —when I trusted you as a friend ? Must you stand there now taunting me with my danger ? Idiot, beware ! One step too far, and I'll—' " And you'll think twice before loping all you have gained by this night's black deed ! You'll never murder me, Bob. You won't run the risk. I know you, and—l don't fear you!" With these last cool words Tony unlocked the door and went out. Hood shook his fist after him in impotent fury. But time was precious, and the next moment he Btrode back to the library, and ' extinguished the light. That done, he too eft the hou.-o. " To what do 1 go ?" he thought, pausing on the pavement, and staring gloomily along the murky street. "To detection and perdition, or to victory, power, and love?' His eyes suddenly brightened. He moved on with quick, light etop. He whispered, softly, lingeringly : " Ah—lovo ! It ia to love 1 go ! Lillis will be my bride ! Yes, Lillis, despite Chesney, your mother's heavy H:i ! and mine will carry you to the ultar! My earldom will buy you ! Willing or unwill ing, you will be made my countess ! By this night's awful deed I swear il I" Ho hailed a passing cab, Bteppui i.«'.u it, and waß borne off to —what ? {To be Continued.)

SCHOONER LOST ON THE COAST OF HAWAII.

The Captain, Wifo and Child Eaton by Sharks.

By the arrival of the steamer W. O, Hall news has been received of a terrible occur rence off the coast of Hawaii, near the Kau district, resulting in the loss of the schooner Pohoiki, owned by Mark Robinson, Ei-q , the captain, his wife and son, and two of the crew. The circumstances, so far as can be at present obtained from native sources, are that, the schooner waß running for a lee, having encountered heavy wouther, when a squall struck the vessel, capdzsing her and throwing all on board into the water. The captain's wife and child utmost immediately disappeared, and soon after wards the tell-tale fins of numerous sharks were scon. A boat that hacl been tjvving astern of the capsized vessol was kpcu red by two of the men, who got into it, and endeavoured to rescue the others, three in number, who were yet in tho water. The sharks in tne meantime had attacked the captain, pulling him under the water and tearing his right leg in a horrible manner ; while endeavouring to get him in tho boat, the rescuers were horrified to eeo another of tho voracious monsters fasten on the other leg of the unfortunate man, mutilating that also. Tho. two sailors in the water also fared badly, one having a piece of flesh taken from the left side- by a bite of one of tho maneaters, the other losing the greater portion of the left arm. The captain v,ua hauled into the boat, as also the two sailors, but the informant stated that the body of the captain was again thrown overboard. A landing was finally effected at Knnwaloa, where Dr. B. G. Baker, on being called, attended to tho injured men. Further and more definite particulars aro anxiously ex pected by tho Kinau.

A CANADIAN BUTTERCUP.

She ia Accused of " Mixing Those GUI (lien Up."

Mr Frank, a leading lawyer of Kebraska, is expected in Montreal in a few days to examine witneßsns in a a case involving the right to an estate in lowa and Nebraska valued at $500,000. Stephen Desnoyes, of this city, emigrated to the Western States some years ago with his wife and a boy aged five years. Hisson, nowayounginan.bi'cumo dissatisfied with a farmer's life and went to New Mexico. Desnoyosdied, leaving no will, and his next of kin applied for and received letters of administration. Another relative, however, who in the ovout of young Dosnoyos's doath or illegality of his hurehip would be entitled to all his property, oom monsod suit, setting forth tuut tliu young man known as Deanoycw waa not the run of the deceased; that while a baby in the cradle here another child waa =üb ; tituted for Desnoyes by a woman who wua a near neighbour and who had adopted (ho rightful son, and that after some yearn (ho Eji.y who was stolen died and was buried in the East, while the child who waa put in place of tlio true son grew up without the Dcenoyco family ever noticing .the difference, an tlio children's ages and complexions wvfu tho same. It ia said that witnesses hero havo come forward and confessed tho crimo.

A Singular Impostor.

Thews died recently of fever in the Congo country an adventurer knownaa UiuMiuquis Buonfanti, who achieved the singular dis tinction of hoaxing all the learned geo graphers of Europe 'md imposing upon them an imaginative talo of travel in unox plored parts of Western Africa, which had no better foundation than a careful study of Barth, Mungo Park, and others, and a particularly warmfancy. l!uonf:inti'pfitoryi in brief, was that he had epent twenty years in African travels, and hm narrative was so circumstantial and so deeply interesting that it was ea.crly received und widely published. The Marquis utilised his fame by securing a commission in tho new Congo service, and departed for tho tcenu of his future labour. Meanwhile his record was investigated, and it was found that, while heclaimodtc bom West Africa, ho wanreall operating in Europe and America n« an adventurer. In New York ho mud>: some reputation as a literary man on (be J-lrciJßth of articles which ho translated from loading foreign papers ; there he was known as Maurice Mauris, but he was soon detected, and crossed the Atlantic again. Hoviufla fine example of the old trutli thiit, had he devoted to Ipfi'iinate woik one half tho energy anu -Way which ho expended on swindling schemes, he would have made money and reputation.

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1885.

3



Just arrived by the Mail Steamer 'Aorangi' from London. THIS (SATURDAY) EVENING And every night during next week, at ABBOTT'S OPERA HOUSE, The Last Great and Artistic Wonder of the Nineteenth Century, mTGAHD'S ROYAL DIORAMA OF SCOTLAND! SCOTLAND! SCOTLAND! AND GRAND SCOTTISH CONCERT COMPANY! As given on the 25th August last in the Tlieatro Royal, Wellington, under the patronage and presence of His Excellency SIR WM, JERVOIS, Governor of N.Z., and the Hon. ROBT. STOUT, Premier of N.Z., and mem bers of tho House of Representatives. An Excursion through Scotland, or Two, Hours at Hamt. >jJj 2 4 ¥X ¥!!■!!£ "^^ SCOTIA'S DARLING SEAT. fi -^ Viow clinngo3 to v magnificent Illnrainntod View of Edinburgh, in it r.^^ L—-J appeared on the Marring .Vighc of the Princa of Wules. The ruoit £. "■ k.»V o 'i>oiw view ever exhibited. bmmd L—nJ CAIjTON niUi.-Buriis' Monument, Holyrood P.Jaoe nud Abbey, Ao. Ih. T LKITH FKITII OP FOna'ir.-Ishind of liich Keith-Shores of Fyfo, ' OUOST.YN CHAPEL AND 'J'HKNTIOE PlLLAß.—lnterior, UKLITUGOW I'AI.ACK AND LOCH.-" Of nil tho I'iilneos no fair. L.i :lit!i,'uiv it lixteHinir.'1 "V aW*. r~\ AlinoTßFoK]\-Tließi'!il.liiifeofHlrW:ilt.TScotl.' CMI Wagy HBMIOSE AIJIiKV by Mouu!i«ht.—lf llion n-.mlil'xl viow fiir Mcli-oso aright, ' GovWlitbyllie|»lenioJullgbt.--JS»oK. /m^\ fj\ TIIK LAND OF lil'KN'S.-liunis1 Cottnge-AlloiiMj- Kirk-Uuuks uud Urau* L J \& **. of ltouiii" Dnon. UUMniIKS.--i.iivvfi-i-irs Clinroliyiira—Burns' Mnusolciuu. GHEHNOOK. -nirtlii■: »•.< of .Tnmvi Watt-Harbour crowded wltk SWpri»R« INVAHY HAY. VII.T.Afin k f.'ASTl.K.—Scitof Ilio :ui(?loiit Carouliell'i, who . ->■ milliTuil for Vr,- !..i,i s i-hiiku uud Scoliis s-.ci-.ml crown. k^^J _, rASSO*1 OIiIWOK.-Smow Scmio-TJio IHrtliiilnce of Osaiaii,andßeon«of r -J pBBM^ THE KNTIIANTIMi l.oril AWi:.—lioumntic liomnlns of Kildmru Cnstlfj r™^! OINCIDKNTS IN I,IKK OF HOXStB PIMNI.'E CItAI(T/lE,—lnterior of * . . 11:t..1ni.l !•...•!,> h,1n..1.!.-!in,i,,: !'! .r ' M n-.1.n::i1.l to Ilio I'l-ince :l(t6r ■■■■■ tliu 1!;.t1!.',.f Cv!!. i.U.ii-i;l,:,;ii;iii|; to .1 si.|.;n.li.l viuw of tbe ' " ISLAND Or' SKVK.- With the culubnilvJ Cuchullill Mountain*, ami iutro- f^^\ diK-fliß (lie lustm-ivnl inui'luiit of the escauu of tho Prince :inJ Flor» JL TiOCII-NA.itAII.-Doer CorrlD-Victiirewjne Scene of Antlereil Mon.irobs. BALJIOUAr,, 11.-i- M.ij.-.Mv.s llishlaml Ilumo-Cioui> of Koyal F:\milj md kniad PAET XI. g 4 ffiews of §lasgow! Q CAI'K WHAI'II, thfTiirribluUei-lliUulof SiiUierUiid. ] DUNHKK. r,.-. : ,.,.,l Vi-w ihirlKinr, Pik-lis an<l Sbiiniiinc-Triiiinnlinl An-.ll— H^F tfV^ Vi."vofT.i, »ri! { »|T-vi..ustoiliiili,.i.HMii«fMl. -^^4 I.l—i-l TAYMorill CASTl.B.—lnterior, Quean's Visit, ISU-£xti-rlor, Qliecn'i " OPE^TII, •■:. • i-.ni ■' 'it.-. Itilluf Ki-moiil -Kttir.inu'a Cn^tle-Curaeof Cowrie. F^ J BXTKUIo:: '.O -:H.i:vKN CA. oTI.K. OLnniii-sicnis npjminlcd to compel . '!■:'■■ 'I i. I" -I.: iI: ■•!■ i1.1i.-uioi llJiuui nt-.l Vi;w uf tbeluterior kaOM w i ■■ '.i»<-M 'I >:■) >iii'ri»ii.nl.-1 1..v her M ;i.U of Hoiiohi-. IXJ r^^ STIKI.INi.i AND i'ASTI.K. Ki-iM »f llnnwkimrn—Abbey Qrtih. with nt* tOCH KATIMM.I-:, 1..v Silv..iy Moimlight. -Tlie Seeu« of Sir Walter Soott'i p3O LOCH I.l)'.M(l.\i>, with all its Fairy I«laud«.-Mose Dhu. tho Seat »f Sir . j.h,h5.■,.:.,,■,,.„ ~1-,,,-t. LoJ AII.SA I'lfAlCJ, ii.v Motfiillulit.-BcnuMfnl Dioramic Eflocla sUowiu X twinklhig ' 13 I'RITH ok' ri.YDK.-Forth and Cljdo Canal-Boivliug Buy—Cardross Caatl* ffj FALLS OF CI.YDK. _-M.isrnifirait View of Com Lynn, with auciout. Cn«tl« of •^ FOL'li VIKWs OF IiLAd'VOW, tho Commercial MctropoHb. -^ QBROOMIKI.AW.-Witli Sl,ii.|.iiii; ami nix Urid^es-GUBgow Groen. f^^ TUO.NHATK AM> Ci:os:s.-l.ooliing Wart-Snnwt-Introdnciiw lic^utifnl Kmor Kir.rl» iTiw ..;.l Tro i St^Dles-Kqueßtriiiii SUtue to William 111. v^^^ GEOKGi: HijUAKK. -With lv|i!.»trian Statues of-Her Mnjcuty, Ac-chung* 'TIuSP OLASiJOW CATUKDnAL, Kstorior and Necroiiolis.-It consisted oriKiually k a I&P. of ll.iv, Hn,,v1,,, on.. ..I tl.-.n, t1... 1..,,-.: l, Kirk, l.cinj; theseeno of 1!..b I o;. , -~ ,i-,-ii, ? to Fr.uicia Oshiililsou, so vividly described by Sir LJ 1 W'lllt.T SlVltt. " IT r"i GLASGOW CATIiKDIfAI,, Interior.—ThU Scene changes to a. Splendid Illn. K|N« »,i ,=,K.! V!..« o, ,| , i,,.,i0r of ~,. X=,ve ..» «f lh. Choral w^» I i!io!i .; vi. ti in •(.•(•:• i., tv "tl show inif of tho wiudows lv all their HH ILLUMNATED AFTERNOON MATINEES, ~% k^^| For Futnilioa and Schools. Soo Newspaper announcements. r*™"^! Doors open at 2.15, to commence at 3 o'clock. • Doors open at 7.15 ; commence at 8. Admission : Dross Circle, 3h. ; Stalls, 25.; Pit, Is. Box Plan now open at Lennox's, Stationer, Queen-street. CHILDREN, 4IALF PKICE.