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Will appear the opening chapters of

MARION'S UNCLE.

A Case for the Detectives.

Br SYLVANUS COBB, Jew.

The plot of this story is very cleverly worked out. It is entirely novel, and baffles the ingenuity of the reader until the final revelation.

THE MYSTERY OF HADDON'S FERRY.

By. E. D. E. N. Soutiiworth.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE FITZGERALD TEMPER, Life is tnorny. and youth is vain, And to b • wroth with one we love Doth work like madness on the brain. Coleridge. Gejuldine Fitzgeeald, prostrated by the violence of her own passion, lay upon the Bofa in the library, with her face buried in its cushions, weeping until Numo, the hall footman, believing the room to be vacant, came in to close the windows and put out tho lights. Nob seeing the lady, whose Hack lace dress as she lay on the dark green sofa at the shadiest end of the apartment, rendered her form invisible, the servant performed his duties and went out, closing the door after him and leaving her in total darkness. Then she lifted her head and. listened. Koji hearing any sound of voices or steps in the hall without, she softly arose and left the library, and glided up to her own loom, where she locked herself in, lest any one Bhould see her in this degradation of grief for a banished lover. She did, nqt. even ring for her maid, but threw herself, "dressed as she was, on-the outside of the bed, where she lay waking anil weeping all night. Long the little French girl sat up in her room that night, waiting to hear her mis tress's summons, until at length, worn out \rith watching, she, too, lay down on the outside of the bad, to rest while listening for her lady's bell, until near morning, when"i-be fell asleep, and, as-a natural con tequence, overslept herself.

There was another pair of sleepless young eyes in Greenwood that night, but they were not sleepless from watching or weeping; quite the contrary. They weie wide awake in a reverie too delicious to be lost iv dreams - a reverie of most delightful retrospection and contemplation. Ger trude, lying in her strange bed at Green wood, lived over again every incident of the two evenings that she had spent in the company of Gerald Fitzgerald. She saw Mm again in every attitude of his stately snd soldierly form, in every expression of bis handsome and eloquent face. She heard him again in every tone of his deep, full, melodious voice, and in her vivid memory every aspect of his martial form was full of majestic beauty, every intona tion of his mellifluous voice full of divine music.

You see, the poor child was falling in Jove, and did not know it, did not suspect it, did not even dream of the folly and danger of allowing her heart to become in terested in a gentlenian jxiuch beyond her to years, far above her in rank, one of the llgn Fitageralds who never had condes cended to a mesalliance, one, too, who was tetrotbed to a lady of his own rank, and whom, though he had been insulted, out- Kged and banished by her, he still pas aonately worshipped. Gertrude's love, the love that was to in mienceher whole life for weal or for woe, Jj* 8 a religion from its very beginning. «« was the reason, perhaps, why she did >W recognise it as a dangerous human P»Mon and be on her guard against it. "was a religion from the beginning. It "«a religious rapture to lie there in the "me tad darkness of her chamber, and FBtoßoul to the contemplation of* her S 01:, ,««»e was not the least alloy of self *Xi i tboughts of him. She never asso- W.wnelf with him in her imaginings. 5 tais stage she never even desired his At this time it was j™gh for her happiness to have seen and T* "win as the most admirable expression &Wc^ ence Bhe had ever imagined. tntli § ht <o£ his trouble with his be- Sft l she felfc sure fchat whatever it! 7wl the ****. of his detention tteha^He on the day appointed for 2 $*W musfc have beenan honour • m heroic one.. She wondered how cMldwT n acquainted with him from si -Kf , MiasJifczgerald had been, feoitvT yhavedo«hted!nis perfectin ff aTv- W V Woman ' blessed with his WwSv lfcz? erald was, could ever To&S?> ilmfr? mlier Fesence. S ™f}W™g heart, to dig teaceSS Flt2 Serald seemed impiety.and g^aawemed blasphemy. '' bnJT IS Ci oSed, hh r <*<». and folded her "•ttGeSSjl^ hke any little Puritan, brought conciled tn, i.gI'6^ injustice, and be re- Hie andH h\ 6aved and blessed in this **fl££j next And after this prayer 6 °,utwatcned the stars that Beea in twl iat 6he had very seldom ■?J Sm ray,tfT86--f her life ' the T^gh fc! } tlle nsin R sun stream t^k wLTv, Window of ted- «4d ft S? Utters her maid bad not '?? W ne ;!T ly risers in Greenwood, ?^WfiST Up> not °nly from force 1 VM dCT from fche ">ere. The stormy passion

of the preceding day and night had left their traces there; her face was pale and wan, her eyes sunken, and her brow corrugated. Her black lace dress in which she had thrown herself down on the bed, and tumbled about iv her anguish all night, was crumpled; the beautiful crimson fuchsias on her breast were withered and dead. " Like my life!" she said, as she ten derly detached them from her bosom, and softly dropped from the window down on the dewy grass below. "I must not go down stairs with this face. I must keep my room until I recover my natural looks. Shall 1 plead a head ache ? A shallow woman in my case would do so, whether she had one or not, and I might do so with truth, for my head does ache ah, as much as my heart. But 1 will nob plead a headache. The plea is too stale. Besides, though it might account for my pale face, it would not for my red eyes. No, I will call it a cold, a very bad cold, attended with inflamed eyes. That will account for everything. And now to prepare for my sharp-eyed, inquisitive little maid," she murmured to herself, as she hastily took off her jewels, her laceg, her black dress, and exchanged it for a night-gown. Then, she unlocked her door, rang for her maid, and got into bed, that she might seem to have slept there as usual all night. Therewas some delay before Mademoiselle Desir^e entered the chamber of her mis tress, for the little maid had overslept her self, and had slept heavily until awakened by the sound of her lady's bell. Then she had dressed herself in haste to obey its call. "Shalll prepare Mademoiselle's bath? respectfully inquired the girl. " No, I shall not rise to-day, Desiree, I have caught a violent cold. Tell the ladies of the house so, and bring me a cup of tea." "Ah! I am very sorry to hear it, Mademoiselle. Will Mademoiselle have toast with her tea ?"

"No, nothmgbutthe tea," said Geraldine, turning her face to the wall. The little French maid tripped down stairs to make a sensation in the house keeper's room by reporting " Mademoiselle Fitzgerald vera seek." And so Miss Sue Greenleaf with her own hands carried up a cup of tea to the sup posed invalid, who, to keep up appearances, began to cough. " I see that you have really got a terrible cold, my dear girl. You must lie quietly in bed for a few days until you get rid of it. I, or my sister Doy, or one of the young girls, will be pleased to sit with you every day until you get better," said gentle Miss Sue, as she sat down by the bedside and waited until Geraldine had drunk the tea, returned the cup, and-thanked her hostess. Then Miss Sue stairs to join the family circle a"t breakfast, and to tell them that Geraldine was confined to her room with a*}(jesy-bad»cold.' $f " Bad cold, eh!" exclaimed saucy Pafc. " Well, if she has got a bad cold, it is my opinion that she has sent Colonel Gerry with a worse one."

" Hush, Patricia. Make no remarks," said Mrs Doy Fitzgerald, gravely. Nothing more was said on the subject of Geraldine s " cold " during breakfast. When it was over, Dr. Goodwin, who had remained all night at Greenwood, requested that his carriagemight be brought to the door, as he should be obliged to re turn home.

Hospitable entreaties were pressed upon him to. stay and spend the day, but as the doctor assured them that it was impossible for him to do bo without a grave neglect of duty, they yielded the point, and Royal Greenleaf gave the necessary orders to the groom. Then Gertrude went up to the minister and timidly said :

"Dr. Goodwin, may I speak to you for a few moments *"

'■'■ Certainly, my dear. What is it ?" 111 Avould like to see you quite, alone, if you please, sir." " Then you shall do so, my child. Miss Greenleaf,' he said, turning to the lady.of the house, " will you allow me to take my ward into your parlour for a consultation ?" "Dr. Goodwin, your ward and my guest may take you into any room in the house that she pleases," answered Miss Sue, with a smile.

" Thank you, Miss Greenleaf. Come, Dr. Goodwin. I will be your conductor to the sisters' parlour," said Gertrude, leading the way thither. s When the minister and the young girl reached the sanctum, he dropped heavily into a large easy-chair, and Bhe drew a low one to his side, and seated herself.

"Now, then, ray little ward, what have you to say to me—something in relation to your valuable inheritance of Haddon's Ferry ?" cheerfully inquired the good old doctor.

" Dr. Goodwin, I have really no right to the inheritance of Haddon's Ferry. That is what I have been so anxious to tell you ever since dear grandfather passed away, but I have had no good opportunity until now of entering into necessary explana tions. But, indeed, I have no right to Haddon's Ferry, or to anything «lse that my deai; grandfather left." " I do not know why you should think so, my dear," said the good minister, with a perplexed look. '•In the first place, you know, Dr. Good win, that I am not really Gabriel Haddon's grandchild." " I know that, my dear, and I fancy our neighbors all know that as well as ourselves. But you do not inherit Haddon's Ferry as the heiress-at-law, but as the heiress ac cording to the last will and testament of the late Gabriel Haddon, which gives you an indisputable legal title to the proper tys Gertrude."

" Yes, Dr. Goodwin, a legal title, but not a moral right." " Gertrude, you puzzle me^ my child. I cannot even conjecture what you mean. Pray, explain yourself," said the bewildered doctor.

"I will. Dr. Goodwin, did yon ever know that my grandfather was married in his early youth ?" " Certainly, my child ; I know the whole story of that disastrous marriage," said the doctor, with a sigh. " Do you know the sequel of that mar riage, sir?" ''The sequel, my dear? I know the young wife, after she was torn from the arms'of her husband, died of a broken heart, and was brought: home and burled in the family vault, at Hill Top Hall, and that her husband never married again. That is all I know about it."

" Then, u>y grandfather never confided to you the secret of the confession made to him by old General Slaughter on his death bed r

" Why, no ! I never saw Mr Haddon alive after the death of General Slaughter !" exclaimed the doctor.

" He lived but three days after," said Gertrude with a big sigh. "If he had lived long enough to see you, he would have con fided the secret to you, as he did to me. But he was called away before he could do bo, leaving that and some other things fot me to do."

"What was this secret, my dear girl?" inquired the doctor, with interest. "Dr. Goodwin, the young wife of Gabriel Haddon left a child- an infant girl — which was taken from her possession and left in London when she was brought back to die."

" My dear Gertrude ! What is this you tell me?" exclaimed the old minister, in profound amazement. " The solemn, sorrowful truth, dear Dr. Goodwin, as I received it from my grand father, to whom it was confessed by old General Slaughter on his death bed." "And what bocame of the child?" in quired the doctor after a thoughtful pause, "No one yet kaows. She was abandoned in London."

" Did that wretched old man keep no oversight of the babe whatever!" " Apparently not. He happened to have retained or remembered the address of the private hospital where the unhappy young wife became a mother, and of the woman in whose charge the child was afterwards placed. He gave these addressos to my grandfather, who made a note of them on the spot. I have this memorandum,and that is the only clue I possess from which to directthe search for the missing heiress ; for, Dr. Goodwin, you know that she must be sought for. If she should be living she would now bo a middle-aged woman, and the heiress nob only Of Haddon's Ferry, but also, in right of her mother, of Hill Top Hall, Stony lonesome Island, and other manors."

" Most assuredly she would be bo," said Dr. Goodwin thoughtfully. " My grandfather meant to have started immediately to England in quept of his lost; daughter; but the summons came that called him to another life. It is now my duty to prosecute what be had not timo to commence. I know that it is my bounden duty to do it, and I am resolved to do it immediately; but I do not know how to commence. You are my guardian and trustee, Dr. Goodwin, and I come to you for advice and assistance in this matter. I want you, if you please, to take the proper steps, employ the proper persons and to raise the necesgary funds to prosecute the search on the Haddon's Ferry. Will you do this for me ?"

" Assuredly I will, my dear. But, bless my soul alive ! If this daughter of Gabriel Haddon and Lily Vale should be found, she will not only inherit Haddon's Ferry, Hill Top Hall, Stonylonesome Island, but she will strip the great heiress, Geraldine Fitzgerald, of all her vast possessions." "Indeed! 'Can that be so? I thought that Miss Fitzgerald inherited directly from her parents," said Gertrude, in surprise. " So she did ; but her parents inherited in right of Italia Fitzgerald, who was the wife of- General Slaughter, and the direct ancestress of this missing heiress. It was only in the apparent default of direct heirs of Italia Fitzgerald, the greatest heiress of her time, that the father of Geraldine suc ceeded to her many manors. But we must look the lost heiress up, though her dis covery should cause a revolution." -

"Please, sar. de doctor's gij; is at dp door," said the footman Numo, putting his head in at the door.

"My dear, I must leave you now. I will begin immediately to attend to this matter. I would say nothing more about it to any one just at present. I will see you again in a feAv days. Good-bye, my love," said the good doctor, as he pressed the hand of Gertrude and left the room.

In a few.moments she heard the sound of his carriage wheels, as they rolled away, taking him from the hospitable shades of Greenwood.

CHAPTER. XXVII.

THE DISCARDED LOVER,

Come rouse then bow ! I know thy mind, And would its strength awaken. Proud, gifted, noble, ardent, kind. Strange them ehoudst so be shaken! ' A. P. DINNIKS. Colonel Fitzgerald rode rapidly away towards, the Summit, leaving his proom far behind. Though ho did hot spare his horse, it was an hour past midnight when he clattered up to the porter's lodge, and ■with shouts and missiles thrown at the side of the house succeeded in rousing tr c old man, who had been iiound asleep in his bed since nine o'olock that evening. " Lord save us ! Maree Gerald, ear, ig anything dead or dying at Greenwood that your honour comes a ruehin' home at this time o' fi&ftt, sat ?" anxiously inquired the astonished porter, as he slowly un locked the gate, and swung it wide open to let the colonel ride through. " Nothing has happened, Nimrod," answered the young officer, as he cantered into the park and rode up the long avenue leading to the house. But his approach was not undisturbed. A volley of barks saluted him from the ken nels and the stable-yard, where the dogs were chained near enough to perceive the entrance of a horseman, but too far to identify him as their master. The outcry of the dogs roused up little old Hassan, the most vigilant of sentinels, and the bravest of defenders.

"Whpdar?" he cried, rushing from his den in the stable-yard, and bringing in his hands a huge blunderbuss, which he did not hesitate to level at the unknown in truder as he continued with a roar :

" Oh, you sheep-stealing vilyiin, / knows you ! Stop jest where you is, you white herrin' or I'll put a bullet through your brains quicker'n ycu kin say Jack Sprat! Stop where you is, I tell you V'

"Don't be a fool, Has'san. It is I, your master. Quiet those dogs, aud then come and take my horse," said Colonel Fitzgerald as he allowed his tired beast to fall into a leisurely walk.

" Now de lors habmarcy onmy fool head!" groaned Hassan, as he lowered his weapon with a look of consternation. " 'Deed, I be^s ten millun hundred pardons, Marse Colonel; but who'd 'a' fought to see you coming home this unreputable time o' de night ? Bofe me and de dogs did take you to be dat dere sheep-stealing Jim Hice—'deed we!"

" Thank you, Hassan. Yours is not the first back-handed compliment I have re ceived to-night. So you and the dogs took me to be Jim Hice ?" laughed Gerald Fitz gerald, as he walked his horse slowly on. "Yes, Marse Colonel; but we knows better now—bofe me au' de dogs. We know'd, you soon's ebber we heevd your

woice—bofe me an' de dogs. Listen. Dey's quiet now, sar, an' 'dout my havin' to speak to 'em, eider," Hassan explained, as he ran along beside his master's horse "lam afraid that they have all been gone to bed so long that it will be difficult to arouse any of the house-servants without disturbing my father," said Colonel Fitz^ gerald, as they approached the house. " I's afeared so myself, marster, indeed, sar," assented Hassan. But a turn in the avenue showed them the front of the house, with lights glancing from window to window.

" Some one is up! Something is the matter ! My father ! He was nci worse than usual when I left him at noon," exclaimed Colonel Fitzgerald, as he sprang from his horse and threw the reins to the old groom, ran up the steps, and loudly knocked at the door. It was opened by Peter, the footman, who, on seeing his young master, cried out: " Oh, Marso Colonel! Oh, Marse Colonel!" and burst into irrepressible sobs and tears.

"In the name of Heaven what is the matter ? What has happened ?" demanded Gerald Fitzgerald, as he pushed past the servant.

" OJj, Marse Colonel ! It is ole marse !" cried the boy, weeping aloud. Gerald Fitzgerald hurried past, and ran upstairs to his father's room. He paused for a minute at the door to compose himself, for he was unwilling to enter a sick man's presence in a state of agitation. Then ho softly opened the door and walked in. The room was brightly lighted up, and half a dozen of the house-servants were gathered around the high four-postbedstead that stood in the middle of the floor. Swiftly and softly Gerald Fitzgerald stepped up to it. The servants made way for him. There lay the form of his father extended at full length, quite insensible, though still living. A strong smell of camphor tilled the air.

"Oh ! Marse Colonel, what a blessing you've como," cried old Het, the house keeper. " Have you sent for a doctor ?'* inquired Gerald Fitzgerald, in a voice that he could scarcely render steady, as he laid his hand over the feebly-beating heart of hia father. "Oh ! no, Marse Colonel, seems like we was all panic - struck and 'stracted, and didn't know what to do ! What a blessing you's come!" cried Het. Without waiting to hear her out, Gerald Fitzgerald hastened down stairs and des patched Peter in great haste to the stable, with directions to saddle the swiftest horse and fly as if for his life to Wildeville, find Dr. Burton, their family physician, tell him that Mr Fitzgerald was in extremity, and bring him with all speed to the Summit. Then he hurried back to his father's bed side, wherehe found all bhehousehold servants reassembled, and old Het standing over him, bathing his head and face with spirits of camphor and her own falling tears as clio tried these ineffectual means to restore him to consciousness.

Again the servants gave way for the sorrow-stricken son, who came up and make a more careful examination of the patient than before.

He found the body deadly cold, the heart beating slowly, the pulse scarcely per ceptible. He now commenced the active treatment that his imperfect experience suggested. He sent the women-servants oft' in different directions, one to bring bottles of hot water, another to prepare mustard poultices, a third to bring hot brandy, a fourth for hartshorn. They flew to do his bidding, and returned in an in credibly short time with' all the remedies he had sent for. These were all applied with promptitude and great care, but with out the least effect. After working over their patient for an hour without the slightest encouragement to' persevere, Gerald Fitzgerald guve over, sayine : "Wo must wait for the arrival of Dr. Burton. Nothing more can be done until he comes. Darken the room. Put out all the lights except one. And let every man and woman of you return to the servants' hall except Hester." His orders were quickly obeyed. When he found himself alone in the room, with the old housekeeper, he threw himself, ex hausted, into the easy-chair at the head of his father's bed, and beckoned Het to come and seat herself near him.

She came up, weeping softly behind the white apron that she held to her eye?, and, curtseying respectfully,, sat down in the chair her master had pointed out.

" Now, Hester, tell me all about this at tack. I left your old master as well as he has been at any time within the last few weeks. I come back after an absence of a few hours to find him in this state ! When did this fit seize him ? How did it happen ? What caused it? Come, you are an ex perienced woman ; you can tell me."

" Oh, Marse Gerald ! It was all de doings ob dab dere crazy moonatic, Malady! Nobody bub she !" said Het, with heavy sobs.

" Magdala!" exclaimed Gerald Fitz gerald, in surprise. "Just nobody bub dat rum-mad moona tic, nobody but she : which all sich should be shot up in a mad-house, and kept till deaf do' em part!" sobbed Het. •'Bub Magdala ?—that poor, harmless wanderer ! I cannot see how she should have disturbed my father. Explain your self, Hester." j "Oh, Marse Colonel, it was jest dis-a way. It was 'boub 'leven o'clock, an' me an' Jeremy a-sit-tin' up in de kitchen be yant ouV bed-time, 'caze ole marse hadn't ringed his bell for his pitcher of ice-water to make his punch, an' we much as our lives worf to sturb him 'dout be ring for us, or go to bed eider fore he tell us he done wid us for de night. And so we sat dere, ole Jeremy an' me, on de steps ob do kitchen door, 'case it war so hot in de house we couldn't hardly breave. 1 nebbor did see sich a hob summer in all my life. Don't hardly cool oft"even at night."

" Never mind the weather, Hester. Tell me about your master," said Colonel Fitz gerald, a little impatiently. "I gwine to tell you, honey ; deed I is. So me an' Jeremy we sat dere, catebin' our breaf in de heat till de clock struck leven, and say ole Jeremy: " ' I wonner wat de matter long o' ole marse. He don't ring tor his ice water.1 '"I dunno,' I say. ' I spects he busy writin' letters.'

" 'Oh, g'long 'way from here wid your letters,' Jeremy say. 'Ole marse done writ all his letters, and fill his mail-bag chock full, and sent jfc wid me down to de stable niore'n two hours ago,' he say. Den after dat 1 didn't say no more ; but dar we sat an' waited some time arter 'leven o'clock. Den at las' ole marse bell rings— loud, honey. And we jumped up and run

upstairs, ole Jeremy wid the pitcher ob ice water in his hands."

"And you found your old master lying in this state ?"' inquired Colonel Fitzgerald. • Lor', no, Marse Gerald ! nothing like it! Dis state, indeed ! No, indeed ! He was settin' up in his chair as peert as a parrot, a reading of a book, which he put it down and told me to make his punch, while Jeremy undressed him an 1 got nim into bed. Well, Marse Colonel, me and ole Jeremy stirred round right lively, we did, and put the ole marae comfortable to bed, and then we gave him his Roman punch, and while he was a drinkin' of it in walks that crazy moonatic Malady, bole as brass. Ole Jeremy see her fus', and says he : " ' Lor' a' massy on all our souls !' says he. And den I look and I see her, too, and I says: " ' How, on de face of de yeth, did you get inter de house, and what does you want, anyhow ?' And den ole marse catches his eye on her, and growls out:

" i What de debbel do you want in my pribate apartment at dis time o' night, 'oman ? Be off wid yourself !' says ole marse, says he. And den I goes up to her, and says: " ' Yes. Wha' does yer mean, you on decent white trash, a truding ob yerself into' a gernan's bedroom dis time o' night, and he in bed ? Shame o' yerse'f !' says I. ' G'long out wid yor !' says I. But bress you, Marse Gerald, she put out her long arm and sweeped me out'n her way as if I'd been so much chaff, widout a word spoKe, and she marches up to ole marse and she takes sometin out of her bosom, she does and she holes it close to his face, and she says, hoarse like: "'Does yer know this?' And den she snatches it away, and hides it sudden in her bosom, and stood up proud like. Ole marse he sot de glass o' punch down on de stand by de bedside, an' he fell to tremblin' an' starin' at her, till lastwise he say, sca'ce speakin' 'bove his bre'f: "'Who are you? Where did you get dat ?' * :

"' Ef yer will send dem dere black idivmts out'n de room, I hab somefin to say to yer,' she say. "Yes, Marge Gerald, dat jes' wot she calls we—dem 'speetable, 'sponsible cnllud pusaons—idiwuts? But wot could you spect from sich a moonatic as Malady ?" 11 Never mind the mad woman. Tell me about my father, Hester," groaned Gerald Fitzgerald. "Hi, honey, aint I a-tellin' ob yer ass fa' as I kin ?" Well, when she say dat, ole marse, he say: "'Jeremy, you an' Hester may go. I shall ring when I want you to show dis 'oman out."l

" 'Oh, marse,'l say, ' 'sider yer repitition as a gem'an,' I says. " ' Oh, marster, 'sider de safety ob yer life alone 'long o' a mad 'oman,' says 010 Jeremy. " 'Sider yer good character, 010 marster,' I says, pitiful. .m "But, lor,' Marse Gerald, he wouldn't 'eider nuflin'. He roared at us to begone, an' we went; but we didn't go far. We stayed in de passage outside de door, caste our ole marse might be put in fear of his life, an' he so helpless he couldn't move hardly. Well, Marse Gerald, we hadn't been dere more'n ten minutes 'fore we heer'd 010 marse shout out:

"It is false as — !"

" An'den no more-not a word, not a bre'f but presently dat crazy moonatic, Malady, come out an' say to we-dem : " Go in an' look after your marster.' "An den we went in, an' found him jes' like you see him now," concluded Het, breaking into sobs and tears. '•And the woman, Magdala? Where did she go ?" inquired Colonel Fitzgerald. " Deed, I dunno, marse. We was dat shocked and griebed we didn't know wot we was about. We gib de 'larm, dough, an' fotch all de servants inter de room ; but woteber corned ob Malady, I dunno ! I 'spects as how she went as she corned," said Het, sobbing and sighing. Colonel Fitzgerald turned and looked afc his father. No change, not the slightest, had taken place in his appearance. Clearly nothing could be done for him until the arrival of the doctor.

Colonel Fitzgerald rang the bell. Old Jeremy answered it. " Have the premises searched for the woman Magdala. When she is found take her into the library and come and tell me. I must see her."

Old Jeremy bowed low, in silence, and left the room. Colonel Fitzgerald assumed his seat and his watch. Half -an - hour passed in silence only broken by the tick ing of the clock on the mantelpiece and the sighs of Hetty in the arm-chair. And then came a knock at the door, followed by the entrance of Jeremy, who bowed low, as was his custom, and then said: "We found Malady wandering in de groun's, Marse Colonelf an' we fetch her in, which she were willin' enough to come when we tell her as you want her, Marse Colonel."

"Ah! and you have put her into the library, as I directed you to do ?" " Yes, Marae Colonel," answered the old man, with a deep bow. "That is right. Go on. I will soon follow," said Colonel Fitzerald. Then, turning to the old housekeeper, he charged her concerning his father : " Watch your master with the greatest care, Hester. You must scarcely remove your eyes from him. If the slightest change should occur in his appearance, you must immediately come down to the library and let me know. Do you understand ?" " Sartin, Marse Colonel, which I'll let yer know de minute any change ilo oomo ober : not as I think any change * ill," replied Het, sadly shaking her head.

(To be Continued.)

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NOTICE-" The whole of our Stock of rOR ONE MONTH ON LV I Calicoes, Flannels, Blankets, Dress Materials, Men s and Boys' Clothing, Crimean and Oxford Shirts, will be sold at Cost Price, at the "p\ T C^ C^lD ( JlXlr* IVI UIMI ii U l\l I V * ■■ O_A IST A DA' "R TT X T "r^-r'Tsrr r-< c*



Prosecute the Swindlers!! If when you call for American Hop Bittora lice green twig of Hops on the, white label and Dr HouWii name blown in the boltle) the vendor hands out anything but American Hop Bitters, refuse it aud ahun that vendor as you would a viper; and if he has taken your money for any thing else indict him for the fraud and sue him for damages i'or the swindle, and we will pay you liberally for the conviction. The demand for the great American remedy, Hop Bitters, in thi3 part of the world has become so great that the Hop Bitters Com pany, whose headquarters arc at Rochester, New York, U.S A., have been compelled to open a laboratory in Melbourne. It is in charge of Mr M. H. Van Bergh, a trentloman of several years' experience with this 'Company and the trade oiay be assured of receiving goods equal to the parent house, and 'he most courteous treatment. The Hop Bitters Com pany have establishments at London, Paris, Antwerp,Belgium,Breda, Holland, and Toronto, and their American Bitters aro pro« bably the best known medicine in the world.



Business Notices. REW?S TEAS, Is lOd, Is 6d, and Is 4d per lb, ARE ADMITTED TO BE THE BEST VALUE EVER OFFERED TO THE PUBLIC. WHOLESALE GROCERY STORES, VICTORIA St. The best Black for Bloom, Beauty, and Durability. Smith Sf Caughey. 7mporters or Jbress Fabrics, 0-c. CONSUMPTION^ CURABLE! "MR G. T. CONGREVE ON CONSUMPTION AND ITS SUCCESSFUL TREATMENT, Showing that direful disease to be curable in all its stages ; with observations on I ASTHMA CHRONIC BRONCHITIS, Etc," From the "Christian Herald," March 31, 1886. Mr G. T. CONGREVE'S TREATMENT OF CONSUMPTION AND OTHER CHEST DISEASES " Continues to be made a great blessing to sufferers, far and wide, in every part of the Kingdom." " The world and we ourselves owe him a debt of gratitude. Not long since we placed a young lady under his cave, who has recovered her health, and we need only point to the cases (Mr Congreve is publishing one every week), many of which had been given up as past all hope." " There can be no doubt that for Consumption and other Chest Complaints M Congreve is a specialist of the first order, and stands unrivalled. Certainly there has been no other discovery in medical science from which the consumptive patient may gather so much hoj* as from his." " The one hundred and thirty-three cases which are recorded in Mr Congreve's book are a most convincing testimony ; but what have been long a marvel are the cases of cure which have been published for several years past in the weekly journals (our own included) once every week." (The reader is referred to the " Christian World," " Christian Age," " Christian Globe," &c, &c.) The author (Mr Congreve, of Coombe Lodge, Peckham, London), has been urgently entreated to make his treatment known in all the British Colonies. The price of the Book is- SIXPENCE, OR SEVENPENCE, POST FREE. Published by UPTON AND CO., AUCKLAND, And may be ordered through any Bookseller. BOOTS. BOOTS. BOOTS. ■ y;j( 'in: '• KARANGAHAPE ROAD, AUCKLAND. THOMAS EVANS Begs to call attention to his splendid Stock of Boots and Shoes manufactured by himself, SPECIALLY SUITED TO THE PRESENT S3ASON. Every Boot made by the House is guaranteed to keep the feet dry. And for style and durability they cannot be surpassed, the following being a few of tht) SPECIAL LINES AND PRICES: Boys' strong but neat School Boots )7 to 10—4s6d; 11 andlfc—sS3d; 13.and I—6s9d lace up J 2 and 3—7s 9d;4 and s—Bs 9<L Girls' strong but neat School Boots )6 to B—Ss 9d; 9 and 10—4s 9d ;11 to 13—Ss 9d lace up \ lsnd3-~6s9(L All sizes in High Leg best French Calf, equally cieap. Men's Bluchers, warranted the best in the teadb k>r 6s Q&. •Men's Shooting Boots, 10s 9d. Men's splendid Elastic, best American Tweed, 10s 9(L Ladies' High Leg Calf and Kid in every variety, Buttoned, Laced and Elastic The public are invited to inspect the samples on vierr oatstdto ths, shop,, ticketed in plain figures, and to judge of the stylo and quality for fc&emselves. Please Note the Addbrss— a?. E'v.A.isrs THE PEOPLE'S BOOTMAKER RARANQAHAPE ROAD, SSWTON. (JIVING UP! GIVING UP! GITTIN^ JJJft GREAT CLEARING SALE 07 THE STOCK 0* GENERAL DRAPERS, KARASTGAHAPE SOAR THE WHOLE STOCK A Kfllf^f^ WHOLE STOCK VALUE ©DOwV-rW VALUE MUST BE CLEARED OUT IX A ffEW THSEK& •ENORMOUS REDUCTIONS TOTORMOIZS SE&^CXIONS ■^ In Manchester and Woollen Goods. -*-* s>k SBflinery-and. MaatlM T^NORMOUS REDUCTIONS "ipNOBMQtm ISEf^QJTIONS ■*-^ In Dross Goods and Costumes, "*■'• QlotMag- and: Hats Thia large Stock is quite new and must be cleared out in a. few weks-.atteixejc^greafrsaoriflce. Come early to the Great Clearing Out Sato or <ih<% of .j, a ©aown: jc ca WE ARE THE CHEAPEST KAFANOahape ROAD r CORNER OF 'tiAßtom