THE MYSTERY OF HADDON'S FERRY.

Bf E. D« E> N> SOUTHWORTH.

CHAPTER XIX.

OJT THE BRINK OF FATE.

_- fair a face more sweet, «. mfillow voice before she look'cl. Won W «£ £ e e ; e land read his lineaments, |ismood '«f °j nto wastes and solitudes, And drove him into gou] _ than twice her years, Marr'd w.he Ancient sword-cut on hischeek, ft^JJjKd&d. shelifted uplwr eyes fy lored Mm. Alfred Tennyson.

■«, the Wast of the horn and the sound of T voice Gertrude started up and hurried 1 the'kitchen, where she expected to " John Brooks, the boatman, as he was ,11v to be found at this hour, seated Ue chimney corner, engaged in a sober "Lversation with Jessie Bell, the cook. 'jess was there, occupied in getting T but John was nowhere to be gupper, """

looked all around, and then where is. John ? There is some neon the other side of the river, shouting "°fblSnJ flash of lightning and , a deafening crash of thunder-interrupted the Pl^ence- was restored' she WKI: honey, John Brooks, he done -oaeupde mountain to get some dry bush f kindlin' wood, and bem' cotched in de tnrm 1 reckon as how he done stopped in Hey Charcoal's cabin till it's all ober ; SSVtin', in course, as anybody'd be Eowant the ferry-boat in sich wedder Ldis; dough, to be sure no one can tell Sf We people might want 'No Lantin' for tastes,' "Ebery one to deli nk' a3 de old cow said when she kissed thT'oman.' Heaps o' sense in dese ole Bffia«tehad already lighted a candle and net it in the lantern, and had drawn on her overdoes and was now carefully wrapping herself up in her waterproof cloak. "Boat!" shouted the voice from across "•Let'em holler till deyget hoarse, honey, deidiwuts L and den maybe dey'll go inter de ferry-shed and wait till de storms is ober m d by dat time John Brooks will be back, mdhekingoarter'embisse'f. Don't you bo, honey." , . A dazzling blaze of lightning and a stun nin* peal of thunder arrested Gertrude's re ply" but when silence was restored again she answered calmly; "lam left in charge of the ferry, Jess. It is my duty to go, and I must do so." "Boat !" shouted the voice. 11 Drat your throat! I wish it was split!" cried the old woman, in a rage. And the lightning blazed, the thunder rolled, the wind howled, and the rain fell like a deluge. Gertrude drew the hood of her water roof cloak over her head, took the lantern ukrhar.d, opened the front door and went out into the bl.-,ck, tremendous stormr The wind was blowing a hurvicaner the rain was pouring in torrents; the night was dark as [fen, except when a broad blaze of light 'nog lib up all the mountain and river «ry as by a red conflagration. Through all this horrible confusion of Effing wind an.d pouring rain and blinding Igbtning arid deafening thunder, the bnra girl struggled on, until at length, breathless, battered, and bewildered, she reached the boat house on the sands.

One moment she paused to recover her tength, wind and senses, but the next the was aroused by the reiterated shout rf-

"B-o-a-t!"

1 There ttas a stationary lantern attached to tie gable end of the boat-house, nearest tie water, and a speaking trumpet hung by Ithain beneath it.

Gertrude took the trumpet, put it to her lips, blew a blast, and then called out: "Who and what want to cross? What Brtof boat will be needed ?" Abroad sheet of flame lightning and a bvy crash of thunder delayed the reply, but it length it came : • "Two men and two horses—the flat boat." Gertrude had not strength to pull the flat boat across the river, even in calm leather, mnch less in such tempestuous jpHther as this. Fora minute she did not oowwhatto reply; but the swiftly recur ring flash of lightning and peal of thunder gave her time. When silence was again re taed she raised the speaking trumpet to bttlip3, and shouted: "Jaincoming." And with this uncom promising answer she launched her boat, tod taking the oars in her hands, struck oat through night and stornl and darkness JJKtt the turbulent waters Of the river. •Nibrain poured in floods; the winds tossed to little boat with great violence ; the *»« dashed around it; the lightning "ted from horizon to horizon; tnf Brawler crashed overhead. But the girt paled bravely and strongly towards the W> of the little ferry-house on the opposite shore, and in fiteen minutes the *«l of the boat grated upon the sands. wttrude drew in her oars, laid them fl0?n, took up her lantern, and stepped out. It was almost pitch dark, for the light on we ferry-house only irradiated a few feet ■fmnd itself, while the lantern that the flrt earned in her hand shot up one broad raywhereits bull's-eye was turned. * tail, dark figure came down to the watersedgeto meet her. A deep, sweet foice saidi ;

''Ih °P«you have brought the flat-boat, tt? Ktod man." Gertrude hesitated, scarcely knowing 'W to reply for a moment. Then she

VfmMl6l6^ no man at the ferry when 2«S tbe hora»and I coul£l not manage "what I hope this will do for you Brim 11 com Panion. The horses can S.S.'W after the boat, if you "™Jke their bridles in your hands." Delli WOt°an ! "tainted the same full, ! IS" ' lI beg yo* will forgive "oil-• not ? ee y°u in tho dark-" aglrl) 3irjl , answer( i d the ma i r j 0I)) hmt \ PosiJiWe that you have ud^ c boafc across this wild river met f * : Btom to-nigKt without assist *• bS top6sßible toprocure assistance, •nwiH» • not very dificult to row Cdn fVi Beofcoursel could nofc Bo» n xll you get into that boat tia4», • " rains harder than ever, 1 tainS !5 ke«Ptegr you out in it. Cer briri'l l g6t lnto the boat- Simon, • h sLn^ 668 6, n'" 6aid the stranger, Rll wPPea on board and seated him-

servant of LT*> who seemed to be the !° ftewiW* f speaker' now came down torses. Bedge> leading two saddled NKS^ kfthesaddlesoff and throw htl!C'vou r r!, the bridleß on a"d ek S Wi™ tiU y°u seb into ''S,'W\ hOl; ses wiU svvim 1? k"Ow all aboufc ifc > ™y "IhaTr an Ser- J^ShwiSal^'-nr -11 ttyUfa, and eJj 6Ver Binoe * can

The servant-man stepped on board and sat down, holding the ends of the bridles. Gertrude took up the oars to push off the boat, but thfe stranger quietly took them, from her, saying: "No, my child; this is my task rather than yours. lam an 'indifferent' skilful oarsman, and can take you across safely." Gertrude did not dream of resisting the decision made by that deep, firm voice. She merely murmured: " I thank you, sir," and yielded the point. Indeed, the exigencies of the situation required a man's strength as well as skill. The boat was he ivier than before ; the swimming horses astern often pulled upon the bridles, impeding progress ; the water was fearfully rough ; the wind blew a gale dead ahead ; the rain dashed in their faces, and the lightning and thunder added their horrors to the hideous night. But the stranger oarsman pulled sturdily for about twenty minutes,!and then pushed the boat up high and dry upon the sands of Haddon's Ferry. Before the stranger could step from the boat, a dark form, carrying a lantern in its hand, ran down through the pouring rain to meet them. It was that of John Brooks, the boatman. "Good Lord, Miss Gertrude! Is this you come back safe ? I have been that mis'able about you. Why, if anything had happened to you-well, there—l should a gonp out and heaved myself headlong down to the bottom of the river. I only jes' this minute got back home, and old Jess told me how you'd gone across tho river to fetch over a passenger, and took the lantern and run right down here, in tending for to launch a boat and go right after you ; but here you is, safe—thanks be to goodness. '' Yes, we are all safe, John. Ju6t secure the boat, and then come up to the house and show this gentleman's servant where to put his horses, said Gertrude, as she stepped out upon the sands. Then, turning to the stranger, she said, with a sweet courtesy : " I do not know how far you may have to travel to-night, sir, but I hope you will come up to our house and stop until the storm is over." " Thanks, my child—Miss—Mis 3-" " My name is Gertrude Haddon, sir." "Thanks. Mine is Gerald Fitzgerald. I gratefully accept your kind invitation." "Gome then at once, please. Our boatmen here will help your groom with the horses," said Gertrude, leading the way up the frassy walk that led from the pier to the ouse.

The stranger stepped quickly after her, hoisted a large umbrella that he had carried like a walking-stick in his hand, and held it over her, saying : . " I am afraid, however, that this will do you but little good now. You must be thoroughly wet already." " Oh, no ; my water-proof cloak is really water-proof; besides, if I were wet, it would do me no harm at all. lam a ferry girl, consequently amphibious and almost as much at home in one element as on the other. Here we are at the house, sir; you see it is but a short distance from the landing. I thank you for your umbrella. Please walk in," said Gertrude, opening the hall door and leading the way into the house. The stranger followed her. A lighted lamp stood on the hall table. Gertrude olosed the door upon the raging storm and turned around to speak to her guest. He Bed jusb taken off a soft, black slouch hat and a short rubber riding-oloak and hung them on the rack, and now he stood before his young hostess, the grand est being she had ever looked upon. He was very tall, but so perfectly pro portioned that no one ever realised his unusual height, until he was seen among other men. His head was finely shaped and well-set; his features were of the Roman type, with high forehead, aquiline nose, short upper lip, well moulded mouth, and finely curved, rather prcrjecting chin. His complexion was very dark ; his short curled hair and beard and eyebrdws were jet black. His eyes were of the darkest grey, deep set, still and steady, with the peculiarity of affixed look which was certainly not a stare, but i-ather a wistful, contemplative, half-unconscious gaze. His air and motion were stately and majestic, yet not haughty. His voice was deep, full, firm, yet not peremptory. He was clothed in black from head to foot.

Gertrude gazed up at him with the star tled, innocent, reverential admiration of a child, until she met those still, brooding dark eyes fixed steadily upon her. Then she dropped her Hd3 in sudden con fusion, as a child might. have done, and turned and opened the parlour door,saying: " Come in here, if you please, sir." The stately stranger bowed and followed her.

Gertrude drew forward her grandfather's old arm-chair, and with a glance and a little wave of the hand, sitontly invited her guest to take it.

The stranger thanked her with a smile, and sat down.

The tramping of horses and the voices of men were now heard, as the groom and the boatman led the steeds up to the house arid, through the alley, to the stables in the Year of the back-yaMi where the deep growl of the bull-dogs challenged them ; but John quieted the faithful guardians, and no more noise was heard exdept the low muttering of the thunder, the light falling of the rain, and the faint moaning of the wind, all of Which seemed dying away With the eubsit dising storm. Gertrude went into the. kitchen to speak to the cook to add some dainty to the tea table in honour of their unexpected guest, The evening.meal was in fact quite ready on the hearth, and only Waiting the orders of the young mistress to be placed upon the table.

"Jess, what have you got for tea?" in quired Gertrude, in a low voice, as she stood at the back of the old Woman's chair.

But Je3S, apparently Unconscious of the girl's presence, shut her book, closed her eyes, lay back in her chair, and sang:

"Oh! how flokldSoulsdofly From van^i tee Us vtn-l-tve " " Jess," said Gertrude, giving the woman a gentle littld shakd, " ttt6re is a travellor here, caught in the storm." "Oh ! you's come, has you ? Well, Lord, we have a great deal to be thankful for. I didn't 'spect you to come back safe—no, that I didn't; nor likewise didn't you de serve to come back safe, neither, gwine out in sich a debblish night as dis to fetch a crazy lunertack across the ribber. Caze nobody but a crazy lunertack would a hailed de boat in sich a storm iis dis!" said the old woman, rousing herself.

" Didn't you hear me come in, Jess ?" "Oh ! yes. I heard you fast enough, but I wasn't a gwine to let on. I didn't think as you 'served it, arter tearing* out in sich a tempest. I heered de horses go by de alley, too, jes now, jes same's if dis was a tarvun or a stage office, or aomefih', 'stead of a 'spectable house," grtimblad the old woman.

" Jess.there is a gentleman in the parlour who was caught in the storm." " Same one you fetched ober de ferry ?" "Yes."

" Umph ! Humph ! Jes like dis was a tarvun. Ebery nff-raff as eete caught put in bad wedder crossin' de fen-y gets fetched here to board and lodge free gratis for nothing, long as ebber he wante to stay."

"It was my grandfather's way, Jess," said the girl, desprecatingly.

" And a mighthy bad way. He'd a been a rich man ef it hadn't been for his ' way.' Better kept a tarvun at wunst, and den he'd a got paid for entertainin' man and beast. But dis yere keepin' open house for ebery bodv is jes' ruinous, dats what it is, (Willful want makes woeful waste,' as de ole sayiri* says. Heap 6'sense in dese ole savin's, honey. I aint got no patience with such sponging riff-raffs!"

'"Jess ! Jess ! this is a gentleman, I tell you."

"Gem'an, is he? Oh, yes ! Pnrty gem'an, come hero spongin' on a poor orphan girl for his supper."

"Jess, lam ashamed of you. But you are not yourself," said Gertrude, in distress.

"Well, if I ain't ir.yself, who is I ? And, 'bove all, who is de purty gem'an in the parlour ? I bet yer don't even know his name."

"Yes, I do," said Gertrude, patiently. " He introduced himself to me as Mr Gerald Fitzgerald." "Eh! What! Hush, honey! Come, §et up here! You don't mean Colonel itzgerald ?" exclaimed Jess, her wholo aspect changing from contemptuous indiff erence to the most reverential interest.

"I don't know, Jess. The gentleman named himself simply as Gerald Fitzgerald." " Dats him ! Well, Lord ! wonder if he was 'spected to-night! Hush,honoy ! Let me run down de cellar and fetch up dat trout John Brooks catched dis ebenin', and den 'sides which I'll knock up de most delicky omelette as ebber went insinde ob anybody's mouf. You go in and entertain de colonel, honey, and leave dis to me, arid in 'bout half an hour or less I'll send you in de mos' 'licious supper as ebber you, or him eider, sat down to. Nuffin's too good fbr he !" exclaimed the cook, bustling about in great excitement.

" Jess, who is Colonel Fitzgerald ? I never saw him before."

" Hi, honey, what I tell you ? He's Colonel Gerald Fitzgerald, dats who he is —Colonel Gerald Fitzgerald ? Now don't bbdder me any more, 'case yer see I got my hands full. You go inter de parlour and entertain de colonel, like a lady." " ' Like a lad}'!" said Gertrude, smiling a little to herself a? she took off her wet waterproof cloak that she had worn until this moment, and hung it up to dry, and stood in her simple morning dress of black bombazine, relieved only by a little narrow white linen, edging at tho throat and wrist. . CHAPTER-XX. LOVE. Her EWoet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast. J. G. Whittier. Then she returned to the parlour, where she found Colonel Fitzgerald standing be fore the little book-case in the corner, read ing the titles of the books that were neatly arranged in rows behind the glass doors. " You have a very choice collection of books here," he said, turning his dark eyes full upon hers. " A very small collection, sir," answered Gertrude.

" But a rare one. Here are some of the works of the best authors, in their original Greok, Latin, German, French, Spanish. They are very well worn too. Will you permit me to inquire who reads all these works ?" he asked, smiling upon her. "My grandfather and I used to read them in the long winter evenings when the river was frozen over and we had nothing to do," answered Gertrude, simply.

" Your grandfather and — youV said Gevali Fitzgerald, gazing at her, fixedly, musingly, yec without tho least offensive uchs in his look.

" Yes, sir ; we had so much leisure in the winter, grandfather and I. Usually, he would read and I would knit or sew ; but when his eyes were weak, 01* snow-dimmed, then I would read and he would smoke."

Gerald Fitzgerald gazed at her in grow ing surprise.

"My dear child, do you really mean me to understand that you, at your age, have mastered all these languages so as to be able to read these authors in' their origi nals ?"

" Grandfather taught me, sir; and we had so much time on our hands in the winter," said Gertrude, apologetically. "But do you know that you have achieved a very great work in having learned all these languages, so as to be able to read them at your age ? You cannot be more than thirteen or fourteen years old."

" I am small for my years, sir, they say, but I am really fifteen," said Gertrude, blushing at having to talk so much about herself.

" And you really read Sophocles, Homer, Kant, Camoens, and Corneille in their originals ?" " Yes, sir ; grandfather taught me* We had so much leisure in the winter, and it was really not hard. After learning Latin, it was easy enough to learn French and Spanish, for they are so closely akin - don't you think so, sir ? And then German seems really so much like rugged English, that that did not seem difficult either," pleaded Gertrude, very deprecatingly. " But the Greek ?" said Fitzgerald, with a smile of amusement.

" Oh, the Greek is such a grand and god like language. Grandfather so delighted in it. It was more a recreation than a task to study Greek with grandfather," exclaimed Gertrude, warming up to enthusiasm. " What else did grandfather teach you, my dear f " Oh, history, geography, a little astro nbmy; and he tried to teach me mathe matics, but it was so difficult for me to understand that lie said it only distressed, that I had not the kind of mind for it, and he up." " "Where is this dear grandfather, my little girl ? Shall I not have the pleasure of seeing bo wise a man, so finished a scholar ?" inquired Fitzgerald. Gertrude paused for a few moments, and then answered reverently: " He is in heaven now."

"Oh, my dear child, t did not know that you had lost him/ said Fitzgerald, in a tdne of regret.' There was another pause, and then Ger trude answered, gently : " But I have not lost him. Ido not feel it so."

At that moment the door was pushed open, and Jess entered with a large tray laden with a dainty supper, which she proceeded to arrange upon the table. She then set two chairs, and placed herself behind her mistress to Wait.

"Will you please to sit down arid tike supper, Colonel Fitzgerald ?" said Gertrude, With a gentle curtsey. "Thanks, my kind little hostesß. A ride of seventy miles since before breakfast has well prepared me to eujoy this delicious treat," cordially answered the colonel, as he took a chair at the table and lifted the cover from the nicely -dressed brook trovit.

Gertrude did the honours of the little board with a simple grace that was all her own, and was pleased to perceive that the traveller partook of the delicacies before him with great relish.

When the meal was over, Fitzgerald arose from his seat, opened a window and looked out upon the night. The storm had passed, the sky was clear, and the stars were shining. Jess came in and cleared the table, carry ing the remnants of the meal to the kitchen for the refreshment of herself and the two men, who had now come in from the stable.

"My gentle hostess," said FitzgerAld, turning from the window, " I must take a pilgrim's leave of you. Having been rested *na fed, I must go on my way. Cfen you tell me where I shall find my servant ?" " He is in the kitchen getting his supper. Will yon not let him have time to finish ?" inquired Gertrude.

"Certainly," promptly replied Fitzgerald, seating himself, as if not sdrry to Have a fair excuse for doing teo. " Would you like to look over some of grandfather's books, sir? If you would I will get you the key of the book-case, tt must be dull for a gentleman to wait here," said Gertrude* thoughtfully. " 1 do not think so. No, thanks, my littlft hdstess ; you need not trouble yOur self to opeti the case ; I do hot care to look at the books no\v," said Fitzgerald, with a Smite, for h$ Was cbngenially occupied With reading the now living volume before him.

His servant, however, did not keep him waiting long. Simon soon despatched his supper: Perhaps the man did not find the maid so attractive as the master found the mistress. However that might have been, Simon soon knocked at the door, and then put his head in to ask orders. '' Have the horses been well rubbed down and fed ?" inquired Colonel Fitzgerald. " Yes, sir ; and watered," answered the man.

11 Very well; then saddle them and bring them around to the front door," said the master.

The man touched his forelock and with drew.

Colonel Fitzgerald arose and walked about uneasily. He really did not know whether at this ferry-house he had been re ceived as a visitor or a customer—whether by offering payment he should offend his little hostess, or by refraining from doing so he should wrong her. In a word, he did not know whether the ferry-house was not a quiet inn, and whether the livelihood of the family did not depend upon both sorts of custom.

He looked at Gertrude, but her meek and quiet face afforded no solution to the ', ques tion ; one thing he did perceive—that he must not venture to offer her payment for his entertainment.

Gertrude was standing by the window, wondering why her guest walked about the room in an uneasy manner, and whether he wanted anything, but could not venture to ask him; she could only stand waiting to render any service that might be required of her. Presently a happy thought entered the mind of the traveller. He turned towards his hostess with a smile, and inquired : " Will you permit me to stop into tho kitchen for a moment ?"

" Certainly, sir, if you wish," said Ger trude ; " though you need not hesitate to light your cigar here, if you should prefer it. Grandfather always smoked after tea," she added.

Fitzgerald smiled kindly on her, opened the door and passed into the kitchen. John Brooks had gone out to the stable to help Simon to saddle the horses. There was no one in the kitchen but Jess, who sat before the fire with an open hymn book in her hand, singing as usual a, hymn by rote :

" How vain are all things here below, How false and yet how fair." "My good woman, I wish to speak to you," said Colonel Fitzgerald.

Jess dropped the hymn-book, sprang up as if she had been only sixteen instead of sixty, dropped also several curtseys in quick succession, and then stood waiting. " Hold out your hand." Jess extended a black paw big as a medium-sized bread tray. " Here," said the colonel, placing a broad gold piece in her palm.

Jess curtsied deeply half-a-dozen times, and then inquired respectfully : "I beg a tousin pardon, Marse Colonel, but if you please, sir, what's dis fur ?" " To pay for our very excellent entertain ment," said the colonel, beginning to think that he had made a great mistake, after all. The action of the woman promptly as sured him that he had.

Jess, forgetting all that she had preached to her young lady some hours before, dropped tho gold coin as if it had been an asp, and exclaimed :

• I begs ten tousin pardons, Marse Colonel, but me and my young mist'ess don't demean ourselves by keepin' no tar vun, Me an' my young mistess makes you very welcome to your entertainment, Marse Colonel Gerald Fitzgerald."

• "I have really erred, then. Pray excuse me. The mistake was natural. Ferry houses are always hotels as well," said this true gentleman, who was as ready to make an apology to the humblest slave whom ho had unwittingly offended as to the most ex alted dignitary. At this moment Simon came into the kitchen to report that the horses were ready.

~"Here, you nigger, pick up dat dere gole piece as yer marster jes drapped," said Jess, pointing to the " eagle." Simon stooped and recovered the coin, and put it into his own pocket—not, how ever, let it be distinctly understood, with any design of theft, for Simon Styles was as often as otherwise the purse-bearer of his master.

Gerald Fitzgerald smiled at the droll out burst of self-respect from this usually obse quious old servant, and looking at her more attentively, he suddenly held out his hand, exclaiming pleasantly : " Why, Aunt^Je'ssie, is this you ! I am so glad to see you ! I did not recognlso you at all, at first. Why, I thought— " You t'ought how de debbil had got me long ago, I s'pose, Marse Gerald ; but he ain't, dough, and he aint agwine to get dis chile, neider : no, not ef I knows it," said the old woman, smiling from ear to ear. " I am really very glad to see you, Jessie. But why didn't you make yourself known to me at once?" inquired the colonel, heartily shaking her hand. " Who ? Me ? I wouldn't a 'sumed to do it, Marse Gerald. I jes lay low and say nuflin, and see how long it take a great hero like Colonel Fitzgerald to 'member his old black mammy." " That was unkind, 'nurse. Besides, I knew you as soon as I looked attentively at you, though it has been a long time sinci I saw you, Jessie." " Ain't it, dough* Marse Gerald ? I ain't seen you sence dat fus year you went to Wes' Pint to be a millinary gaddet. You Was a Slim young ge'man den, and L6r', didn't you look handsome in your new de form ? Hush, honey !" " Come, come, Jessie !" exclaimed the colonel, deprecatingly. " But, Lor' ! dat was nigh on to twenty years ago ; and now dey do tell me as you fit trough all de Flidy War and de Mestico War, and corned out a great hero. Is dat so, Marse Colonel ?" "Nonsense, Jessie—no, not one word of it. I have been in Florida, and I have been in Mexico ; got an ugly sabre cuu across toy temple', and a pair of colonel's shoiildor straps; that is alt, my godd nurse. How long have you been living at the ferry here ?" "Hifj Marse Colonel, ebber sense y6uf fader set me free to please you, whon you went to Wes' Pint to be a milliflary gaddet. Soon's ebber I was free I hired ob myself to ole Marse Gab'ei Haddon, and been libin' long ob him and his granddaughter ebber sence, till he died quite sudden day befbre yesterday. He was buried to-day. Maybe you didn't know dat, Marse Colonel ?" "No; I did not." " Yes, honey, buried to-day. He lef me and John Brooks money enough to keep us all our libea ; but we'd a heap radder had our old marse dan all his money," said Jess, beginning to cry. " Is the young granddaughter left to live here without a guardian r inquired the colonel.

" Lor', no, Marse Gerald. De Reberent Dr. Goodwin is her garden and gwine to take her 'way to-morrow. So you won't have she to row you ober de ferry no more."

," lam very glad of it, Jessie. Her posi tion here is a cruel one for a young girl scarcely past childhood. Well, good-night, niy old nurse. I must go." " Good-night, Marse Gerald, and de Lord bless you." Colonel Fitzgerald returned to the par lour, and found Gertrude where he had left her, standing before the window, lost in reverie.

" Before I leave, I want to thank you, my brave and eentle little heroine, for the great services" ybik have performed for me to-night," he said. "I did nothing, sir, but my simple, daily duty, and do not merit thanks,"; re plied Gertrude, meekly. "No ? Well, my dear little girl, Wbafc could I have done if you had nob brought

the boat over to me through the storm to night? Though if I had known my call would have brought out a fragile girl, like you, to risk her life to-night on the stormy Wilde, I would have died rather than have sent that summons over the water," said Gerald Fitzgerald, gravely and tenderly, as he held her hand and lingered near her. ' 'I feel sure that you would not have called the boat if you had known that there vvaß no one but me to take it over to you, and therefore I am very glad that you did not know it," she added, with a sudden smile, yet gentle and respectfully. " Why, so ami! As it has turned out, though, I may never see you again, little Gertrude, it is worth much to have seen and known you, if only for a few trying hours, and to have the memory for ever," he added as he pressed her hand, bowed over it as though it had been the hand of a queen, instead of that of a little ferry-girl, and finally slowly relinquished it. The next instant he was gone. Gertrude remainded where he had left her, standing by the window lost in a deep reverie, which lasted until she was startled by the sound of his horse's hoofs as he galloped from the house. Then, with a deep sigh—a sigh for which she could have given no reason even to her self- she moved from her position, and be gan to look for the household duty which lay nearest at hand. The old coffin-shaped, upright clock, which reached from floor to ceiling in the corner, solemnly intoned eleven.

At the same time she heard John, the boatman, bidding good night to Jess, the cook ; for John slept in a loft over the boat house.

Her duty was now apparent—to fasten up the house for the night. While she was closing and bolting the window-shutters, Jess, having raked out the evening fire, and shut up the kitchen, entered the parlour. "So Colonel Fitzgerald has gone," she said.

"Of course. He went as soon as the storm was over," answered Gertrude, in a low, hesitating voice. "I wonder if he was 'spected. Lord! Lord ! to fink ob dat now !"

Gertrude was filled with curiosity ; yet, for some inexplicable reason, she could not bring herself to make any inquiries. Sne silently took up her candle-stick, lighted her candle, and turned to leave the room.

But Jess was evidently in a communica tive mcod, and rather angled for questions. " And to fink," she said, contemplatively, " dat he was not at de funeral! He, ob all de people on de yeth as should a been dere ! - de chief mourner, and may be heir-at law !"

Gertrude showed no sign of interest, but stood trimming the wick of the candle she held in her hand.

Jess seemed provoked, and at length fired her great gun : " Well ! I s'pose him as disapp'ints a BRIDE AT A WEDDIN* MAY BE 'SCUSED FOB DISAPPOINTIN1 A COEPSE AT A FUNERAL !— DERE !"

" Jeas ! What did you say, Jess ? Jess ! —what are you talking about ?" exclaimed Gertrude, putting down her candlestick on the stand.

" Oh ! I fought I'd wake you up at last. Yes, honey ! Marse Gerald Fitz gerald went back on weddin' and funeral alike ! dough ef anybody say as he was to blame -dey tells a black false—dats all!"

" I don't understand you, Jess! I can not understand you ! What do you mean 1 Who is this strange gentleman, Colonel Fitzgerald, whom you seem to know all about ? And— who * went back,' as you call it, on both wedding and funeral ? Surely not Colonel Fitzgerald ?" said Gertrude, sinking into her chair. " Well, honey, it was jes' he an' no oder. Which, if anybody say he did wrong, I say dey tells a black false. 'Caze eberyflng as Marse Gerald does mint be right." " But, Jess, rohat funeral do you mean ? and what wedding, and who is Colonel Gerald Fitzgerald, I ask you ?" " Honey, Colonel Gerald Fitzgerald is the grandson of old General Slaughter's half brudder; and, consementallyj , fallen' j&h General Slaughter's childun ana grand child un, he is de heir-at-law of General Slaughter's whole landed 'states, dough he nebber 'peared at de funeral as chief mourner ; which was queer. But dere was somefin queerer'n dat. He was'gaged to be married to his cousin, Miss Geraldine Fitzgerald, and when de day come he wasn't dere. Now, what you fink o' dat!"

" The death of General Slaughter was bo sudden, and the funeral followed the death so quickly, that I do not wonder that Colonel Fitzgerald should have received notice of it too late to attend. But I can not imagine why he should have failed to keep his appointment at his own wedding." " No, honey, nor no one else ; and dats jus' where de mystery is now. Which, ef anybody goes for to say as Marse Gerald did any firig wrong, dey tells a black false, 'case whatebber Marse Gerald does is de« zaotly right." "Jess, I really did hear a report that Miss Geraldine Fitzgeral.l was going to marry her cousin, a gentleman of the same name, and that the marriage was postponed on account of General Slaughter's death. But do you mean to say that this Colonel Fitzgerald waS-tfas—was the bridegroom elect ?" " Yes, honey, in c6urse he was. I heerd all about it to-day from de coachman and odei 4 servants as come here driving and waiting on deit1 masters to our funeral. Lord, chile, it ioatttit Gen'al Slaughter's as put off de weddin'. Dat weddin' was put off 'fore ebber Gen'al Slaughter fought about dying. Dat weddin' was put off by de non-'pearance ob de bridegroom." " But, good Heaven, Jess, you do not mean to say that Colonel Fitzgerald failed to keep his appointment with his bride elect on his wedding day ?" exclaimed Gertrude, in incredulous amazement.

■ '.' Yes, honeyj dats dezactly what I means to say. Trufe, too." " But whatever could have been the reason for a gentleman like Colonel Fitz gerald doing such a strange thing, Jess ?" "Welt, dere! dat's more'n anybody on de face ob dis yeth can tell. On'y I tell you dis good - whatebber was de reason, it was a right reason, else Marse Gerald nebber done it. Ebberyfing as Marse Gerald does is de zactly right. Now, honey, I done give you a conund'um to guess. I'll bid you good night," said Jess, taking up her Japan lamp and moving off to her attic. Gertrude took up her candle and went thoughtfully up to her room and retired to bed.

The next morning, at the appointed hour, Dr. Goodwin arrived in the rectory gig, and Gertrude prepared to bid a sorrowful adieu to her humble friends and beloved home, and set out with him for her future residence at Greenwood.

(Ttbt Continued.)

THE AUCKLAND EVENING STAR, WEJJJNESDAY, JULY 27, 1887.

7



Architects. . i - .. ■ P. HEBAPATH, F.8.1.8.A.] [S. M. HERAPATH PHEEAPATH and SON, • ARCHITECTS, CotoNUt Bank BuitDWtte. T7l D W aITd" B ARTLEY, ARCHITECT, feTICHBURyS BUILDINGS, QUEEN-STREET. XJTDWARD MAHONEY AND SON, ARCHITECTS, QtTEESN-BTRKET, AVOKLAWO. "TiTILLI A~M ERtIINGTON, M. INSt. G.E., M. Inst. M.B<, CONSULTING ENGINEER* AUCKLAND.



Business Notices. • > —. —I —~* _;• . TTNIVERSIT V C 0 L L E G & SCHOOL OP APPLIED SCIENCE. The University College Council has made arrangements for establishing a School of Applied Science to provido education qualifying for the following professions :—Engineer, Architect^ Surveyor, Mine or Factory Manager. The Curriculum is as follows :— {Mathematics. Elementary Physics. Chemistry. Drawing. ( Mechanics. a ,. mß a _„_ } Mathematics. Second year. < Geology . v. Drawing. {Engineering. Architecture. Minisg. StfßVEtfiNa. Mathematics (adv.) Principles of Archi- Mine Surveying. Mathematics (adv«s Surveying. Surveying. Mining. Astronomy. Applied Mechanics. Applied Mechanics. Metallurgy. Surveying. Instruction in Engi- Instruction in Ar- Experience under- Instruction in Sur neer's Office. chitect's Office. ground. veyofa Office. For further information intending Students are invited to apply to the Registrar. ROBERT KIDD. - Registrar. ,- _ . __. _. f^d XT A T> T "p 1 C 2 (~^4 IVT T7* TT ■ *■. ' _ H *^Ws*Jm^® MANUFACTURER OF BASSINETTES, «^v V^f PERAMBULATORS, INVALID ' M(s Perambulators of any make repaired or taken in '/ v3wts|lii§ AUCKLAND PERAMBULATOR FACTORY, Vl*r (Near Freeman's Bay.) '**■'"-'* „ The best Black for Bloom, Beauty, and Durability. [ Smith fy Caughey. Importers oj Irress Fabrics, §•&. E A POSITIVE CURE $j|\ " SKIN AND BLOOD ijm DISEASE j Ecrema on Scalp. FRO Ml Scrofula on rrrck. IPIIVIPLEB to SCROFULA DISFIGURING HUMORS, Humiliating Erun- pUTICtntA RESOLVENT, the new Blood PurL tions, Itching and Burning Skin and Bcalp \j fler, Diuretic, and Aperient, cleanses the Blood Tortures, and every species of Itching, Scaly, and Perspiration of all Impurities and PoUonoiui Pimply! Inherited, Scrofulous, and Syphilitic Dls- Elements, and thus removes the CAUSE. Hence eases of the Blood, Skin and Scalp, with Loss of it cures speedily, permanently, and economically. Hair, from Infancy to old age, are cured by Cnti- — cura Resolvent, the new Blood Purifier, inter- Cuticara, the Great Skin Cube (a Medicinal j nally, and Cuticuha and Cgticup.a Soap, the Jelly for external use), instantly allays Itching and great Skin Cures and Beautifiers, externally. Inflammation, clears the Skin and Scalp of Humors, 'i ■ — Soree, and Dandruff, destroys Dead Bkin andFleeh, j Agfonizing, Itching, and Burning Skin heals Ulcers, Bores, and Discharging Wounds, re- a Diseases, Eczema, Tetter, Ringworm, Psoriasis, storca the Hair, and beautifies the BMa. \ 1 Lichen, Pruritus, Dandruff, and Delicate IrritaiJ ' — = —^m —-— * tions peculiar to both sexes, instantly relieved by a Cutictira Soap, an exquisite Skin Beauttfier warm bath with Ccticuba Soaf and a single ap- and Toilet Requisite, prepared from Cuticdba, 'jpiloationaf-OCTictmA, the great Slsln Cure. This is indispensable in treating Skin Diseases, Baby i repeated daily, with three doses of Outicura Re- Humors, Skin Blemishes, Prickly Heat, Bashes, 'i solvent, will speedily cure Itching Diseases of Sunburn, and Rough, Chapped, or Greasy Skin, } the Skiu and Scalp, when all other means fail. j \ —— — CuUcnra Remedleg are the only real Blood ? A Magnificent Popular W»rk on the Skin, Purifiers and Bkin Beautiflere free from meremy, ] with Engraved Plates, Is wrapped about the Rb&Ol- arsenic, lead, zinc, or any other mineral or vege- j vbnt. Also, one hundred Testimonials, solemnly table poison whatsoever. Guaranteed absolutely ', sworn to before the British Consul, which repeat pure by the Analytical CliemieU of the State of j this story: I have been a terrible suirerer for years Massachusetts. 1 from Diseases of the Skin and Blood; have been For Sale a u ven dors of medicine. Price, : obliged to shun public places by reason of my dis- Odtictoa, 50ct«.; large boxes, $1.00. Cvncciu, ■ figuring humors; have had the best physicians; g OAp 05 cts. CcTiotmA BBBOLTEST, SUM, have spent hundreds of dollars, and got no relief -wholesale Agents, New South Wak»,2.Town» until I usod the Outicuba Rbmedibs, which &Co Sydney; Victoria, Felton Grixiwad* fcCo^ ' nave cured me, and left my skin and blood as Melbour^e; fe out ii AlstraUa, A. H- BicKfotd & pure as a child's. Send to any wholesale druggist eons Adelaide; Queensland, Elliott Bro*vfc Co* -1 named in the opposite column, for "How to Cure Brisbane: New &aland, BT. Z. Drug Co., AnO? 1 Sltiu and Blood Diseases," . laud an^ Dunedln. / Oil Address with Stamp, Pekpaebd bt the j St. Towns & Co., New South Wales. Potter Drag & Chemical Co.,Ko*tan,TJ,S.A< \ GONSUMPTBON CURABLE ( "MR G. T. CONGREVE ON CONSUMPTION AND ITS SUCCESSFUL TREATMENT. ?5l SbOwlog thab direful dieease to be curable in all its stages.; with obcervafiona 6A ASTHMA, CHRONIC BRONCHITIS, ETC. 1* From the " Christian Herald," March 31, 188& MR O. T. CONGREVE'S TREATMENT OF CONSUMPTION AND OTHEE CHBST DXBBASBB " Continues to be tnetde * great blosaing to Bufferers, far and vide, io every part af tlia kingdom." " The world &nd wo ocrselvea owe him a debt of gratitns>. Hot lodjtsince we placed a young lady under Ltb cure, who bas recovered her health, ?vA we need only point to tba oases (Mr Congreve io pnbliahing one ever week), many of wUch had been given, op aa past all hope." " There can be no doubt that for Consumption and other Chest Complaints, MirCos* grevo is a specialist 01 the first Order, and stands unrivalled, Ortainly there bas been ao otherdiacovery in medical science from which the consumptive patient wsp^ gather a>raacU hope as from his." '** ro " Tbe ose m)s£>AZt> and THiExr-TiraEß oases which are recorded in Mr Congro-re's book are a most convincing t*efcimoay; bat what have been long a marvel are the eases Of cure which have been published for Several years past in the weekly journals (ourown included), one every week." (The reader is referred to the " Christian World," "Chris, tian Age," "Christian Globe,"'«&• Ac.)- The author (Mr Congreve, of Cobnibe Lodge, Peokbam, London), bw heen urgently entreated to make his treatment known ioaU the British Colonies. Tbe pries of the Book ia- SIXPENCE, 6% StfVENPENCE, POST FRfiß. Pubhßi»sd bt UPT"N AND CO., AUCKLAND. Am 1 '" 1 f'irniinh any Bookßelier Hotels Educational. 9!ii «jta ßs =a^^^^fe|j«i ß - sa _ TRANCING CLASS (ADULTBL rtatf^^H^^Jflfe*-" t T^r ""-^ THURSDAYS, Eight p.m. " J^^Uib iHTPSi "? - S Poxsonby ROiVD, nearly opposite Franklin Rd I"^ff^ rr^:C^^^^^ TEACHER OF DANCING. fiJilt 11 Pi n^rllliwlH) JUVENILE AND ADULT CLASSES. '^'*^^^^^ Ponsonby Road, nearly opposite Franklin Road v^~ — . /^EORGE THOMPSON, M R \^n or Z2 °DH AM ' PIER HOTEL. PIANOFORTE AND HARMONIUM. ALBERT STREET. Address: Care of Mr A. Eadt, Auckland (Two minutes from Wharf or Railway Station) Music Warehouse, Queen-street. This new Hotel, having a most central position IVT • ■?' OSWALD and magniffcent view of the Harbour, etc., has -^-JA- gives Lessons m Elocution— I been recently fitted and furnished with every . lwolve Lessons 21$ convenience. Tho bedrooms are large, airy, and At pupil s residence .. .. .. 30s '■ with good outlook. Every accommodation for given and attended. Allletters Travellers and Boarders. Best brands of Wine -Champtaloup & Cooper, Queen-street and Spirits. All fees payable in advanoe. Hot and Cold Baths. Board ana LodKing and 25s per week. f^ LAZING J GLAZING! GLAZING 1 Best Brands in Wines and Spirits. \j[ v»*«xau«\»i. Close to water. Every description of Gla«n ? . The Cheapestin ■■ -'■"" ■ - ■ ' ' '■" Auckland. *^»««» KITE are at a loss to know why people . TT*~MrvppTC! ? V sllould allow themselves to be imposed . . ■ .jyiu^'K'lOi upon by imitations of Wolfe Schnapps. DIRECT IMPORTER OF GLASS T is said that some people have no con- feAKANeAHAPB Road. Boienco. It must be true, or Woitfß'S "—— Schnapps would aot be pirated as it ie. Sashes sent for *nd de.Uver©4 fpaa»