THE MYSTERY OF HADDON'S FERRY.

(B?E. D. E. N. Soutiiworth.)

CHAPTER LII

A FELL MICKTIM.

There arc some things haul to understand. Oh, holp me, my Lord to trust ill thee ! I'll never forget her soft white hand, Or her eyes when she looked at me. And bet%veen us both, without and within. Stretched the yawning gulf of law or sin. OWKN MI'.HKDITir.

"YES, it is my cousin, Geraldine," said Colonel Fitzgerald, in a low voice, as he re covered his self-possession. A slight obstruction in the crowd for a moment delayed their progress, and mean while Gertrude breathlessly contemplated the splendid beauty, leaning flight ly on the arm of the prince. Ocraldine was magnificent,!} - dressed in a royal purple velvet robe, richly embroidered in silver thread find .-on.'dl diamonds, over a skirt of white satin deeply Iriuiuled with point lace. She was literally blazing with diaihondrt. Her toileb wa.s almost barbaric in its splendour. It might be briefly described as a blaze of diamonds on a purple velvet ground. The slight obstruction in the crowd gave way, and, still leaning on the arm of the prince, she drew near them, and to Ger trude's unspeakable amazement she turned ■with smiling self-possession and addressed her cousin, saying : " How do you do, Gerald ? lam pleased to meet you here." He took the hand she offered and bowed over it, but could nob speak, and did not attempt to do so. The jnan in this case bad less self■ possession than the woman. Meanwhile with smiling grace, she turned to the prince, and said : "Will your highness permit me to pre sent lo you Colonel FibtgeruJd, ul Virginia ?" The prince and the colonel bowed simul taneously, and they exchanged a few words of courteous greeting. Then Colonel Fitzgerald presented I lie little lady on his arm.

The prince bowed deeply, uttered a few •words of conventional politeness, bowed again to the pair, and paksed un with his beautiful partner to the drawing-room. Other distinguished men and beautiful ■women came pressing; from thu portals of the ball-room in an almost pndless proces sion : but Gerald did nob tnune them to his companion-did not even seem to see them ; he was lost in reverie.

Gertrude shuddered with a coldness that seemed to close around her heart.

lie noticed this at last, and said, with much gentleness : " You are shivering, my little love. Let us go on to the saloon. It is much warmer there."

She assented by a silent nod, and they turned and followed the crowd.

Not a word waa said by either on the sub ject of their unexpected encounter with Geraldine.

When they reached the saloon they found a very brilliant assemblage there, conspicu ous among- whom was the beautiful (feral dine enthroned on a sofa, a very queen of love, surrounded by her own court. It was a scene upon which Gerald Fitz gerald could scarcely look and live. He turned to his wife and whispered : . "Gertrude, have you had enough of this V "Oh, yes, yes, Gerald, quite, quite enough," she murmured. " Shall we go home ':" " Ye*, if you please, Gerald." *'Come, then," ho said, leading her to ward the cloak-rooms. Half an hour filter they had reached their apartments oil the second floor of n hand some house on tho "Champs d'ElystSes."

Colonel Fitzgerald remained standing by the trout window, with his elbow resting on a marble pillar, and his head upon his hand, lost in thought. Gertrude had sunk upon a chair, where she sat, drawing - off her jrloves, and pain fully observing her husband. " Yes, I knew it, I felt it all tho evening. My presentiment is fulfilled. He has mot Geraldine ! Fie has met his evil genius, and our short-lived happiness is dead 5" she sighed to herself. Yet she thought more of his welfare than of her own.

Seeing that he did not move from this position, she dropped hor glove.4, arose and went up to to him, meaning to epeuk calmly ; but there her feelings overcame her thoughts. She clasped hor arms around him and burst into tears, exclaim-

ing. "Oh, Gerald, I am m sorry—l am so

sorry I" "For what are you sorry, my little love"'" he inquired, gently, winding his arm caressingly around her leaning form, and looking down tenderly on her little sympa thetic face. "For what are you soity, little lady?" he repeated, seeing that she continued silent. She did not answer afc first, for the reverence in which she held him prevented her from saying: "I am so sorry for you. " But after a moment's pause she replied : "Oh, Gerald, I am sorry that you are not happy I" " No one is quite happy, little Gertrude ;

not even you, who so much deserve to be. But, my little love, you must not let what you have seen this evening disturb your own peace the least in the world ; nor must you dream that 1 would have your position in any respect different from what it is ; or that for one instant I regret the hasty act that gave me such a heart as yours, or thab my judgment does not perfectly endorse that act. Do you understand, little lady ?" he inquired,looking kindly into her wistful, tender, brown eyes. " Yes, I understand; but, oh, how I wish you were happy," she murmured, tear fully. "I shall be so, little one—never fear; for / love you, little love ! / love you, and I would not change you, if I could, for any woman on earth or any angel in heaven. Ah ! yes, it is true that I cannot yet meet Geraldiue with unshaken ..nerves; but never heed that, my little lady, for I would not if I could have our conditions changed, even, in the least particular," he added earnestly. " Oh, Gerald, your words lift a weight from my heart. Oh, how I wish any words of mine could content you as yours have contented me," she murmured. " Tell me, then, little lady, that not even to-night you have regretted that trusting * leap in the dark •'when you gave yourself tome?" iie gravely whispered. " Oh ! Gerald, no, no, no ! I have never regretted it, «I could regret it. No ! Come what I never could regret it! lam yours for ever and ever, and I would rather gcufrut of existence altogether than to be anything else," she answered, earnestly. ■•- • " There, then your words have contented me, little love. But I think, little lady, ■we will leave Paris. Eh ! What do you say? Have you had enough of it?" he gravely inquired. " Quite; enough, Gerald. lam ready to go to-mofrow, if you please." ' "Very/well. This is Thursday. We will leave hero for Rome on Monday. This will givs us ample time to procure our passports' and to make all other prepara tions. IrNthe meanwhile, my little love, we will actißW; no more invitations, and we will send eiwises for waving the engage ments we'hiye already made, for we do got wish to ateefc Urn Fitzgerald again w •ocieky.'* " ' l ' m vi ''-.

The next day's foreign mail brought Colonel Fitzgerald a letter from a Washing ton correspondent, who wrote that the new trial of Adam Lackland for the murder of John Buckhurst had come on in the December term of the criminal court, and had resulted in the full acquittal of the accused, and that the verdict was received with popular favour. On the appointed day Colonel and Mrs Fitzgerald, with their attendants, now in creased by bhu addition of a courier, set out for Rome.

They spent the next two weeks indus triously visiting tho various great churches, palaces, picture galleries, monuments, and antiquities of the Everlasting City. On the third week they sought and found a comfortably furnished house, whore they settled down for the remainder of the winter.

Here masters were procured for Gertrude, who was» so earnestly bent on making the bet use of her time that she made more progress during the three months of their ?tay in Homo than Bomo young persons would have tiiade in threo years at fchool, To the surprise and delight, of Gerald, she developed a wonderful genius for music, fend under the new inspiration of Gorald'e hcfU'ty appreciation and sympathy, studied morodiligenllyand progressed more rapidly than over before.

About, the first of September found them once more i» I'arie. Hero they ROttled down in their old lodging in the Champs d'Elysees, to spend tho winter. They mixed moderately ill society, where the young wife's chifd-liko beauty and simple grace won many friends, for she was a creature to win love rather than to command admira tion.

Gertrude had now been married for twelve months -twelvo months of unalloyed happiness, with the exception of those two occasions when the shadow of Geraidine fell across her path. In these twelve months she had wonder fully improved, both in person and in mind ; she had grown taller and liner in form, more intellectual in features, more self-possessed in manner, and yet had lost nothing of that, peculiar child-like grace that was her sweetest charm.

Good judges declared her manners to bfe perfect. Colonel Fitzgerald thought so too.

" They are better even than Geraldine V he said to himself '"tor Geraldiue'a dis played 100 much hauteur and self-assertion to be perfectly well-bred. Hauteur and self-assertion would be ill mannered in a queen." But the soul of good-brooding in, after all, goad feeling. And our little lady's good heart taught her the best manner.-). in all this time they had heard nothing of Geraldhie, except, strangely enough, by their letters from America, in which all their correspondents spoke of Mi.ss Fitz gerald as being self-expatriated from her native country, living in France with her old school friend, the Baroness La Valotte, and being , on the eve of marriage with a German prince. . The same correspondents epolce of Sallust Kowley as still on his travels in Europe. From Dr. Goodwin in London they heard regularly, and in one of his latest letters he had spoken of a slight clue that the de tectives had found which he hoped would ultin a oly lead to tl c discovery o! Gfibriol Haddon's long-lost daughter. The Fitzgerakls remained in Paris until tho last of January, when they agreed to sio to England to wibnoM the owning of Parliament, which was to meet early in February.

CHAPTER MIL IS THE W.l'Tlls. On the first February, therefore, with their attendants, they took the train from Paris to Calais, where they took tho ovoning boat, to Dover. While they convolved tho steamboat dropped away from her pier, turned slowly and stood out to fcea. The .sum hud set, but there was still light enough to seft a long distance). " Come." said Goiald. " Como forward, and I will show you Dover. It can be seen very distinctly with n {food glass," (icrbtude arose and followed him up the crowded deck to the bows of tho boat, where lio adjusted the glass to her vision and then let her try it. " Yes, I can see tho old town quite well. It really makes crossing the Channel seem a matter of no moro moment than crossing a river!" exdlaifhed Gertrude.

"It is but twenty-two miles between these two points, and is often crossed in two hours ; although it has been known in rough weather to take a whole night." "Do you think wo shall cross in two hours '!"

"Hardly. Thero in a head wind, and it is vising. However, If it takes us four or five, wo shall still be able to reach Dover in time for a good supper at the Lord War den's Hotel."

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Gertrude, sud denly hcttiditig back the glass lv her hus band.

" What is the matter V" inquired Gerald. "The boat jerks So! Who would have thought the motion wocld bo so rough such .1 short distance from the shore ?" answered Gertrude, leaning her head upon her hand. "It is the Channel, my little girl, and you are becoming sea-sick," said Gerald. " Oh, no ; lam not at all sick. 1 only feel queer." " Exactly ; and you will feel queerer be fore all is over. Let me take yon down to the ladies' cabin, and give you in charge to the stewardess.

"j—oh, dear ! I believe I shall have to go !" exclaimed Gertrude, growing very pallid about the lips, and giving her hand to her husband that he might help her. Oof aid took her down into tho cabin, where nearly every berth and sofa sustained the form of some sick woman.

"I Will try to find your maid, and send her down to you, if she is not the most helpless of the two," said Colonel Fitzgerald, as he left the cabin, after seeing Gertrude com fortably reclining on the sofa. He returned to the deck, and found Meta the least sick, buo seated in the bows of the boat, with her hands stretched out right and left, holding on the ropes and riding up and down with the tossing and pitching of the boat, with all the glee and delight of a child playing at see-saw. When he had watched the girl safely into the cabin he returned to the deck, lighted a cigar, and began pacing slowly fore and aft.

He was suddenly startled by a long-lost, familiar voice breaking on his ear with : " Hallo, Gerry, old fellow ! This is never you \" "Why, Sallust Rowley, where did you drop from ?" exclausid Gerald, in the utmost amazement.

" Not out of heaven, yon may depend on that. I got on the boat at Calais, of course. Wonder I didn't see you before." "The crowd was so great. But where have you been, Sallust, that your friends have lost sight of you for so long ?" "Oh, I have been nearly all over tho world. At least, I have been in the four quarters of the world. I went first to South America. Then to Europe. Then to Asia. Then to Africa. Last of all I came from Algiers. I passed straight through France without stopping, and took this boat to Calais, intending to cross to Dover, run up by rail to Liverpool, and take a Cunard steamer to New York ; for, you see, I am homesick, Gerry ; and, besides, I want to get back to Virginia, to a little girl I left behind me." " Oh, of course!" exclaimed Colonel Fitzgerald, laughing: "Now you needn't chaff, Gerry. The girl is ho commonplace young lady, I cim tell yoii. She's a brick. Sho saved my Hfo on one occasion, at tho serious risk of her own, she did. She hid me in her house

all night when the avengers of blood were behind me, and in the mortiirig I engaged myself to marry her, I did. ' For my life I paid her with myyelf, , as Jaflier says, in ' Venice Preserved.' And I mean to marry her when I go back, as I am in honour bound to do. Yes, and I will marry her, ' though mammy and daddy and all gae mad,' as the song saye. That's what lam going back to do.' "Indeed !" exclaimed Colonel Fitzgerald, who, misled by the exaggeration habitual to Sallust, had nob tho remotest idea that the adventure to which he referred was his flight from the officers of justice, or that the heroine of his story was Gertrude Haddon.

" Yes, that is what I am going home for. I suppose it is perfectly safe to go now. That atfuir of Lackland'a has blown over by this time."

" ' Blown over !' Is it possible you have not heard how that ended ?"

"Why, no. How could I hear? I tell you 1 have been travelling all ovor tho world."

" Well, there was evidence enough to convict the poor devil without yours."' " Was ho oouviotod, then, after all ?" demanded SallueS, aghast. " Yes, lie wa.s. But don't loo!; so shocked. He appealed, had v new trial, and was finally acquitted." " Thank heaven !" heartily exclaiiricd Salhisb. "It was a very popular verdict—'the last one." " Yes, because it was a, just one. Bub now, Gerald, old man, where did you come from •>." "I have been going over Europe with ray wife." " What, all this time ?" "Yes." " So, you are married. But of course I knew you were married, although I had not heard it. Besides, I saw Mrs Fitzgerald when I first came on deck." " You suw my wife V" exclaimed Colonel Fitzgerald, in somo bewilderment. "Yes, I saw her, and of course I was not so very much surprised to see you after wards. " " Did yon speak to Mrs Fitzgerald ?" " Who, I '! Not much. I'd us soou face a tigress as that fellow. If you knew what an awful blowing up she gave me the last time I .saw her, you would not blame me for keeping out of her way. i don't en» y you, old man, and f can't honestly congratulate you. So don't expect it.' , '■ But, Salluwt, you surely are labouring under some mistake. You do not know what you are talking about," exclaimed Colonel Fitzgerald, with more perplexity than displeasure.

"Oh, yes, I do. I am speaking of Mrs Colonel Fitzgerald. And lam blest if here she isn't coining Straight towards us. I'll be oil'!" cried Sallust Rowley. And with that tho eccentric creature hurried oil.

Colonel Fitzgerald looked up, uncertain whom ho should see in the ludy advancing toward him.

He saw Geraldine Fitzgerald !

Ho instantly took his cigar from his lips and cast, it into the sea," and then stood before her, silent from unspeakable amaze ment.

" Thanks, Gerald. I see that you re member my dislike to a cigar," said Miss Fitzgerald, calmly sinking into a seat on tho side of the boat.

" Tho act was instinctive. I should have done the same thing at the sight of any lady," said Colonel Fitzgerald, recovering , hi« .self-possession and bowing with cold politeness. " Will, you Bit down, G<r±ld ? 1 wish to speak witn you, if only for a few moments. It is for this purpose, to avail myself of this opportunity, that I remain on deck, at this hour, after all the ladies of my party have retired to the cabin. Will you sit down beside me, Gerald, and givo mo five minutes of your attention ?"

Jio bowed again with grave courtesy and took the scat she indicated, and rorpect fully awaited her further speech. What else could a gentleman do '!

Obscure a« tho light was, ho could see the marble pullor of her face and the nervous quiver of her lips ; low as her tjne was, ho could hear, in every word she uttered, the pathetic tremor in her voice. He felt and knew that she loved, that she suffered, anil ib required nil his firmness nnd self-control to maintain towards her the calmly kind ■ demeanour he had prescribed for himself.

"Gerald," she began, and then she stopped and looked up and clown the heav ing deck. No one was within, sight or hearing, except a few sea-sick passengers, who were lying about on the benches, or on the planks in the stern of the boat, writhing and groaning, and too deeply absorbed in their own sufferings to bestow tho slightest attention on the affairs of other people.

" Gerald," sho repeated, in a tone vibrat ing with emotion—''Gerald, I hardly know how to begin to say—what I must say, or die ! Gerald, ever since that fatal night on which Satan mastered us both, and we pflrtfetl in frenzy, I have Ipnged to tell you with my own lips how bitterly I have repchteu my share in that madness, how terrible a penance I have imposed upon myself, and oh ! above all, I have longed to hear from your own lips that you for give me!" And here the tender, tremulous, pathetic voice broke down in a deep sob. He was profoundly moved. He could scarcely refrain from taking the quivering white hand that lay upon her lap bo near him. Ho could not prevent his voice drop ping into tones of sympathetic tenderness as he answered:

"Geraldine, if in any respect you have ■wronged me, Heaven knows that I forgive you as freely as I hope to be forgiven. And, Geraldine, on my own part I implore your pardon for my share in that mad night's work."

'' There it is. Yon have it," she answered laying her hand in his. He clasped it warmly and canied it to his lips, th'en dropped it gently and sighed. She withdrew it to her own keeping, smiled sadly, and said: " That is all, Gerald. With this recon ciliation has come peace.. That is enough. lam not here to revive the past. I would not awaken in your mind one thought in consistent with your true allegiance ; for, with all my faults, I am a lady, or'long have dreamed so !' We can never bo more to each other than friends ; but let us be friends. Good-night, Gerald, and good bye !" " Sho arose with the intention of leaving hirri; but immediately sank back in her seat as a man bi'ushed rudely by her, and ran on to the other end of the boat.

Colonel Fitzgerald started up and whirled rapidly round upon tho ruffian; but the man had already precipitated himself down the after hatchway, from which a reddish vapour was now rising. "Good'heaven ! what has happened?" hurriedly nrmfctered Gerald Fitzgerald to himself, all his thoughts) suddenly turned to an impending calamity, as he hastened toward the after hatchway, from which a volume of murky red smoke was now as cending. "What is it?" he demanded of another deck-hand, who rushed past him without answering. Red flames from the after hatchway now lighted up the whole scene. "In the twinkling of an eye " a crowd gathored up on the deck.

A man sprang upon the poop with a speaking-trumpet in his hand, which he put to his mouth, bellowing: " Close the hatchways 1" ',' Oh, Gerald ! Gerald ! what is tho matter ?" cried Geraldino in great alarm. , He could not tell her of the truth, and he would not tell hor a falsehood. He con tinued silent, bub took her hand and held it firmly clasped in his own,

. Another passenger, less considerate, re plied : ,111)! li The ship is on tire in the after hold ! At the salne moment vast volumes ot flamo issued from the hatchways, defeating all efforts of the crew to obey the ofneer a order and close them down. And the cry went up to heaven in a chorus of anguish : ... " The ship is on fire! The ship is on Bre !"

CHAPTER LIV. No more agonising cry ever went up from earth to heaven than that. Ib was heard from every quarter of the ship; it burst from men, women and children, in every tone oMiorror, anguish and despair. And well it mierht, for no more appalling disaster ever fell upon humanity than a fire at sea. X On the forward deck wero gathered about three hundred men, women and children, awaiting their doom with more or loss forti tude, according to individutil age, sox or teraporatrieut. Some were screaming, some groaning, soroo weeping, some praying) and Others exhorting their companions in misfortune In patience, hope and courage. Among these passengers also _ stood Gerald Fitegerald, with Cieialdhie clinging to him, holding him prisoner and making it impossible for him to free himself except by rudeness and violence. In the midHt of all this was heard the order to get out the boats. And then every one understood that all hope of extinguishing the flames and saving the ship was abandoned. At the same instant a voioewas heard from an excited Frenchman, who recklessly punhed himself through the crowd, wildly exclaim " Where U Mademoiselle- Fetzeyerulle ? 0, where- in Mademoiselle ?" "She is here, Monsieur! For Heavens sake take care of her, while I go and seek my wife," cried Gerald Fitzgerald, as he recognised, in the anxious searcher, the Baron de La Valletta, the husband of Geraldine's friend and hostess. "Thank Cod!" exclaimed the French man. "Oh, Gerald, eaoape is hopeless! May we uot at least iIU together?" hoarsely whispered Geruklino, clinging closer tlmu before. " 1 must nave Gertrude ! She may be even now stltlocating- in the cabin. Look to the Judy, Mon-nw, b'il voim plait," cried Colonel' Fitzgerald, forcibly unwinding Gerald me's clinging arms and throwing her upon the baron's protection. " Be tranquil, dear (kraldint, Momieurh Cnpitaiiit assures us that every one shall be saved," spoke the voice ot Madame do La Vallette, who now stood beside her hus band.

Meanwhile Gerald Fitzgerald plunged through the crowd toward the stairs lead ing down into the ladies' cabin. - Ho saw, and thanked Heaven for the eight, that the cabin was comparatively free from smoke. He plunged with head long haste' down the stairs and looked around for his wife.

The cabin was deserted by every one ex cept Gertrude and her faithful maid. Gertrude sat upon n sofa, and Meta grovelled upon the iloor with her face, hidden for feur.in her mistress's lap. '•' In tho uanie of Heaven why do yon linger here ? Why have you not followed tho other Indies up on deck ?" hurriedly de manded Colonel Fitzgerald, as he took hie wife by the arm to carry her away. " I wailod hoie for you, Gerald. I knew you would come heie 'or me. If I had gone up on deck, 1 might have missed you in the crowd. 1 '

"Come, now," ho exclaimed, keeping hold of her arm and hurrying her up the stairs.

" Follow us ; keep very close to us ; do not loso sight of us, Meta," exclaimed Ger trude.

" Vok, ma'am. Oh, Lowly ! oh, Lowly! I aint afoard o , dyin': but I'm afeard o' bcin , burnt ! I never could 'bide liro !"

'• Don't bo frightened, Meta ; we mny be saved ; but oven if we cannot, we need not therefore suffer by fire. There is water all around u« ; and death by water is not hard," said Gertrude.

The flames had broken through the main and after hatchways, and caught the masts and figging of the ship, streaming up into the midnight sky, and lighting up tho durk sea for many miles around. The wind Rtill dead ahead and blowing a gale wafted tho Homes astern, leaving tho forward deck, crowded with passen gers, still comparatively free from heat and smoke. An awful silence had fallen upon the crowd. There was no more screaming, crying, groaning, weeping, or praying aloud. All seemed waiting their doom in dumb despair. Only the voice of the captain was heard at intervals in low, stern tones, giving the orders to the men who were engaged in getting out the boat?. "Suddenly another sound broke the stillness—a cry from the man on the look out : "A SAHi! A SAIL !" " Where away ?" " Ox hkb juek-bow !" •'Thank Heavem ! Oh, thank Heaven," was the response that went up in fervent exclamations from a hundred voices." "Head tho ship for the sail!" was the next order. But the engine had become disabled, and the ship could not obey her rudder. "She sees us ! shkis bearixp.down upon us !" cried the man on the lookout. This news was greeted by three cheers from the men on deck. Suddenly a volume of thick smoke, ac companied by a suffocating odour of burn ing tar, and followed by flames, burst through tho forward hatchway, in the very midst of tho passengers assembled there. Then cries of anguish rent the air. Mothers clasped their children to their hearts, in wild despair. Wives threw themselves, shriekinp, in the arms of their husbands. Brothers and eisters ciung together, groaning. The agony of the moment was utterly indescribable. Then the order was hastily and sternly given: " Put the women and children into the boats. Cut down any man who attempts to follow, until they are saved." Fitzgerald lilted Gertrude's light form in his arms and followed the officer, attended closely by Meta and Jubal, both dumb witli terror. He carried his half-fainting young wife through tho crowd to the larboard cuddy-port, outside of which hung the boats already well filled with women and children.

Gerald placed her in the boat. " Have no fears for me, love. I am a good swimmer, and with the help of a hen coop or a plank I could keep myself up for hours, certainly until the boats return, or the relief ship arrives. Fear nothing, Ger trude. In an hour, or less time, we shall be together, and all in safety on board the other ship," he whispered hastily, as he put her in the boat.

She seized and kissed his hand

Hβ stood up to withdraw from the port, when suddenly a volume of flame, bursting up from the after-deck, threw a vivid, red glare of light on the crowded boat, revealing all the anxious, upturned faces, arid among them that of Geraldine, pale, wild, beautiful, horrible as was hers of the fable whose gaze was death.

Gerald could not look upon it. He hastily waved hid hand, turned, and hurried from the port. The scene on deck was now, if possible, more appalling than before. The hatchways were all belching huge volumes Of smoke and flume. The paasen

get,-, , in wild consternation, were flinging overboard every article that might be made available as a life-preserver, and then jumping after them. Fitzgerald espied Jubal crouching in terror. " Come, Jubal ! Now is the time to show yourself a man ! Throw over that barrel and go after it," said Colonel Fitzgerald, as he seized a long, broad plank, castitinfco the sea, and make ready to follow it. "Misery loves company ; so here goes ! oxclaimed another voice, pitching a hen coop over. . "You here, Sallusb ! Poor boy !" cried Colonel Fitzgerald, as he recognised young Rowley. " Y r es, I'm here, now, but I'll bo there, in a second ! Here goes ! Hurrah ! Follow your leader !" he gayly exclaimed, as he climbed up on the bulwarks, threw up his arms, and leaped into the sea. His manner encouraged or maddened poor Jubal, it is hard to say which ; for with a cry like the roar of a wild beast he started up, seized his barrel, hurled it overboard, and with n loud hurrah, sprang after it. Colonel Fitzgerald paused for a moment, appealed to Heaven, and (hen cast himself into tho sea.

A surging, heaving, boiling hell of waters, luridly lighted by bhe flames of the burning ship and peopled with hundreds ofwretchod, half-drowned human beings, holding on to whatever article they could catch to keep them up, and struggling to the last for dear life, some in patient nope, some in wild despair, some loudly shrieking for help, some earnestly calling on the Lord. It was a scene that baffles all description and passes all imagination. The midnight sky, the turbulent sea, strewn with strug gling, shrieking wretches, and tho burning ship lighting up the whole horrible picture, ac with the tires of Pandemonium.

When Gerald Fitzgerald leaped over board, with the impetus of his weight and heavy fall he sank deeply bolow the surface of the waters, but in a moment arose to the air and looked around him for his com-

panions. Matters had got mixed a little. Sallust Kowley had been carried off to some distance on Jubal's barrel.

Jubal was floating after him on his mas ter's plank. The hen-coop was tossing on the wavc3 a few yards ou". Gerald Fitzgerald was a strong swimmer, but preferred to Have his strength for an emergency, and to recover the hen-coop and support himself by it for the present. Be struck out for it ; but before he could reach it, it was seized by a drowning man, who clung to it in desperation. Fitzgerald would not dispute this sup poro with a victim so weak. He turned and looked around, in hope of seeing some plank or spar to seize hold upon.

There was nothing. He was still on the starboard side of the ship, but he struck out, and giving the burning ship a wide berth, he swam around the bows to search for some support on the larboard side.

At that moment a cry of horror arose overall tho tumult of tho scene. Shrieks upon shrieks pierced the ear, as if at some new and more awful disaster.

" What, in the mine of Heaven, has now happened ?" cried Gerald Fitzgerald, striking out swiftly in the direction of the sounds.

" Some men tried to climb on board the boat with the women and children, and swamped her!" cried a voice from the crimsoned and surging waves. "It is the boat containing the women and children swamped by a lot of cowards !" shouted another voice.

Gerald Fitzgerald, half maddened with horror and intense anxiety, redoubled all his efforts, swam around the bows of the ship and soon came upon the scene of the new calamity. The lurid flames of the burning ship, higher, fiercer now than ever, lighted up the whole with the vividness of a conflagra tion, flashing upon the agonised,faces of a hundred or more women, as screaming, praying, struggling, strangling, they rose and sank and battled with the lurid, suffo cating waves. Horror-stricken at what he saw, Gerald Fitegernld swam swifty towards the perish ing victims, calling loudly on the name of his wife. " Gertrude ! Gertrude ! Gertrude ! Where are yoxi V Answer me !" Presently he was answered from a short distance: " Here ! lam here, Gerald 1" " Thank Hcaveu 1" he exclaimed, as he turned and beheld his heroic young wife keeping herself up in the water—and sup porting a babe that she had rescued. He struck out swiftly towards her. " Oh, my brave little girl! My brave little girl ! So you have saved a child !" "I had it on my lap when the boat swamped, Gerald. And its poor, poor mother sunk at onc6, and never rose again." These words were hastily, breathlessly exchanged between the husband and wife as they approached each other. But as Gerald reached her side he perceived that her strength was nearly spent. " Give me the child," he said, " and then do as I tell you—" " No, give me the child ! It is mine !" ex claimed a man, swimming up on the other side of the nearly exhausted girl. " Give me the child. Its poor mother has perished ; but, oh, young lady, may Heaven bless you for saving it!" he added, as he relieved her of the babe and swam off with it. "My poor girl, you are nearly spent," said Gerald, as he gave her his support. " Yes, the straits of Dover in a gale are a little rougher than the Wilde. 1 could swim well on the Wilde. I have swum across it," answered Gertrude, in a faint voice. " Now, attend to what I tell you, for your own safety. Do not clasp me so as to em burass my motion. Do you understand, Gertrude ?" "Oh, yes, yes, Gerald! I know quite well what you mean. I will be calm and self-possessed, dear Gerald ; nothing can dis compose me by your side," said Gertrude, firmly. "And look there !" he cried, exultingly ; " the boats from the other ship are coming to Our relief! Couiage, my little love !" "Oh, I have courage ! I fear nothing, nothing.Gerald, by your side!" she answered, promptly and cheerfully. Even at that moment she saw his face change horribly, and felt him shudder through all his frame under the water. She thought something had stricken him and inflicted intolerable pain. "Gerald, Gerald dear! What is the matter ?" she earnestly inquired. He did not answer, but gazed horror stricken, spell - bound, upon some object ahead of them.

Gertrude's glance followed in the same direction, and she instantly saw the cause of his sudden disturbance.

Geraldine Fitzgerald was floating there, clinging to a plank. At that moment, also, Geraldine saw Colonel Fitzgerald, lost her hold upon the plank; and throwing up her arms m wild despair, cried : " Oh, Gerald ! Gerald ! Save mo ! Save me !"

At the same time, the plank that she had let go, whirled round with great violence, struck Gertrude, and parted her from the support of her husband. " Oh, Gerald, my love ! my own love ! Save mo! save mo!" cried Geraldine, frantically.

Gertrude did not call out for help. She silently, with failing strength, struggled with the overwhelming waves. Fitzgerald paused for an instant in agony, looking as if suddenly stricken with madness.

" Oh, Gerald ! Gerald ! my love ! my only love ! save me ! save me ! I am strangling,

drowning, dying, irt these cruel Vvaves! Save me !" gasped Miss Fitzgerald. He impulsively darted to Geraldihe, seized her, and swam with her to a boat that he saw advancing.

Gertrude, silently struggling, abandoned to her fate, saw her rival rescued by her husband. She cast one long, sad look' upon him whom she loved more than life, then ceased to strive, closed her eyes, and sank beneath the waves.

( To be Continued.)

" ROUGH ON CATARRH"

dorrccts oireneive odours at once. Complete cure of worst chronic cases; also, unequalled as i/argle for diphtheria, sore throat, foul breath.

Force of Habit.

Care is required in the formation of habit, seeing its important bearing on character. Many characters are spoiled through inattention to the most ordinary and simple matters. Some drink tea and coffee from mere force of habit, " becuuse " it is usual to do so, regardless of the penalty oftentimes of nervousness and indi gestion. Cmlbnry'B Cocoa Essence contains the rcfrcsbiiiK. stimulating properties of toa and coffee with additional advantages over those beverages, whilst it produces none o£ their injurious efl'ccts

THE AUCKLAND Jffi»lMfc gTAR - WEDNESDAY. NOVEMBER JO^jlSg,

6



'Jhe Stud. TO STAND THIS SEASON. ISAAK WALTON will Btand the season or run in the paddock with his mares at the farm of Mr Walter McCnul, nearly in Auckland. Isaak is the sire of Billingsgate, Silvio, Bard, and many others. Fees: £10 It's, thorough-breda; half-brede, £6 53. Groomage fee, ss. ••'.• _;;, E. McCAUL, Owner, Tailoring. MASHER WITHOUT : How,the (loose is it, Fred, your trousers never bag at the knees? MASHER WITH: Somethine in the cut, old fellow. Try WOOL-LAMS-, oi- SYDENHAM HOUSE, GREY St. He has cut my pants for years. Business Notices. \ USE XnLOSEBRQS/ |Plp \ BLENDS OF \ PUKE J \teas I PERtB. \Se Pronounced the best valueY in Auckland. V ■piREWORKS! -pIREWORKS! ~ "pIEEWORKS! D. EYITT Offers as usual a larpc stock of James Pain's Fireworks, importea direct from the maker. Selling cheap for cash. CHINESE NOVELTIES. Guns, Rifles, Revolvers, and Ammunition Of every description. . .. FISkING TACKLE, A New Invention for Sportsmen i—* John's Patent AitTOMATid Sporting Shrapnell Shell FOR FOWLING-PIECES. WILL KILL AT 140 YARDS. REPAIRS and every description of Guhw6rS: done at the lowest possible prides, and satisfaction guaranteed. DT7I V I T T, GUNMAKER & IMPORTER, 254, QtT BEN-STREET, AtTCKLAITB (Opposite the MarJsot House*. -- • American COEN BKOOM CO. EXjMOUTH STREET. , I . ...... . .-'. i■ ■ ''.'-.i'. , :.-.. MANURE.—Freezing Co.'s. *7 \JC 103, of all merchants.



Having purchased th« .i. - Reoistbred THE trade mwv 4 .. SUPPLY CELLARS, AIAUREt^UcE The largest arid beststbtkii, lu'.ea- ■ you homes of New Zealand murt faU « rf&Kff BUKNB'S Al SOAP. I Itieaslmplelbut useMartiol6.,. ; frhbriitt to use it are still more simple, and not h»U'« iisenii. s? You may hare heard of it a TitQtJjukn TIMES without using tf ONCE, reverse the position and" ' "' ! ™ ;XJ;SEIT,OM You will praise it: to othera,* THOUSAND ■ TlMjus.—l have spent Mnareas of poun&ia convincing the wotnea oLNbw Zealand that their labour can be greatly lightened by n«in« BQKNS'B Al SOAP ffHß.WofiiDliKotKa Clkaxserli, but! have fallen shorten: my m bitionif I have Jailed to -OOJNVIjNOE--¥OD. WHOLBSALE&GENiT- A., BUCHANAN. GUS T 0 S? RI B^: -EASi;- Ed. ga-k. :• '.-• •■"a-'s.-d. <.vri:di DYERS.' ESTABLISHED IKL', f . • • Still btixd to Liyfi is-b Id l»ii, : Ladies 1 and MM ] C caned, or i;*-ed any colour. j Curt&ins 6i- Table GoWrs Gleanod, KeawMJ j Dyed. Feathera and Gloves . i anrehade. Lacs or aieaejiM Of Dyed. ■ ■ ■ " . ■ — —-'". :■- - EDGAR; Drtlil;'.;._; « \VELLEsiiEY-STEESiI .' EAST,- ASD BICJ' i V IIdNJD. CSX'S CREEK ■'■„,, ,i; ■,• ■••'■■ -'■■ /; '■' '*■ Tγ E A ;,C 0.0 li • OPTICIAN, M kAUHfiMATiCAL AND JTaCTIcAi IXSIUnW .. •■■■■•■■ - 1 ' ■■■ ■■ ~,_ ,;:.;;,,; skoRTLAN^-STREET ..■ '. ■': Always in Stocky ~ ...... Speotaclos and of every kM, v . accurate lit § varan . teed rialifT ; in % Settlors Telescopes, powerful, Settffiniroidßatoineters^troßg^^ SettS d Microsc 0 pcs, m a^in g UBOrt ai»<i Steauiere. i:i ' instrumenteoff^^,^ . '(j,L E D HI L** . ~ . , F&CTORf. TIOTOBIA.STBSEI EAST Pictorial . ; ■