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THE NATION AJL TB1BJJWE: WASHINGTON, D. C., MAECH 11, 18S2.
CAPRICE AT HOME.
M IIS. S. M. B. riATT.
2o, I rill not say jood-byc
Not goo14jye, nor anything;.
He is gone. I wonder why
lilacs arc not sweet this rorinp;.
ITou that tiresome bird win ting!
I might follow him and wiy
Just that he forgot to kiss
Baby, when he weut away.
KverytliiiiK I want I inj.-s.
Oil, h precious world this!
tfbst if night enmc a'-.t not lie?
8o:nrthii! ni'trht mislead his feet.
!. the moon rise late? All mo!
Tlwre arc tiling ilml he might meet.
Iow the rain begins to beat :
So It will be dark. The Ml?
Home one some one loves is dead.
ViVrc it he ! 1 cannot tell
Half the fretful wordi 1 taid,
Half the frutful tears I shed.
JJentI ? Anil but to think of death 1
Men might bring him through the gate;
IJl that have not any breath.
Iycs that tlaro And 1 mubt wait!
Is it time or is it late?
I was wrong, and wrong, and wrong;
will tull him, oh, be hiirol
If the heavens arc builc'cd strong,
Love shall therein besecuic;
Jaivc like uiineehail there endure.
Listen, listen that is he!
I'll not ieak,to him, J gay.
If ho ohooM) to say tu me,
" I was all to blame to-day ;
Sweet, forgive me," why I may.
THE
CULLY OF BLDEMANSDYKE,
AX AUSTRALIAN STORY.
Broadhurst's store was closed, but the
little back room looked very comfortable
that night. The lire cast a ruddy glow on
ceiling and walls, reflecting itself cheerily
on the polished flasks and shot-guns which
adorned, them. Yet a, gloom rested on the
two men who sat at either side of the
hearth, whiqh neither the fire nor the black
bottle upon the table could alleviate.
Twelve o'clock," said old Tom, the store
man, glancing up at the wooden timepiece
which had. come out with him in '42. "It's
a queer thing, George, they haven't come."
" It's a dirty night, said his companion,
reaching out his arm for a plug of tobacco.
"The Wawirra's in flood, maybe, or maybe
their horses is broke down, or they've put it
off, perhaps. Great Lord, how it thunders !
Pass us over a coal, Tom."
Jle spoke in a tone which was meant to
appear easy, but with a painful thrill in it
which was not lost upon his mate, lie
glanced uneasily at him from under his
grizzled eyebrows.
"You think it's all right, George?" he
said, after a pause."
"Think what's all right?"
"Why, that the lads are safe."
"Safe I Of course they're safe. "What the
devil is to harm them?"
"0, nothing; nothing, to be sure," said
old Tom. " You see, George, since tho old
woman died, Maurice has been all to me;
and it makes me kinder anxious. It's a
week since they started from the mine, and
id ha' thought they'd be here now. But
;t"t nothing unusual, I s'pose; nothing at all.
f. my darned folly."
fthat's to harm them," repeated George
. n again.-arguing to convince himself
r than his comrade. " It's straight road
the diggin's to Itathurst, and then
nun the hills past Bluemausdyke, and
r uhe Wawirra'by the ford, and so down to
'luitoigar by the bush track. There's
lHitlnn' deadly in all that, is there ? My son
Allan'3 as dear to me as Maurice on be to
youfuVnte," ho continued; "but they know
the ford well, and there's no other bad
place. They'll be here to-morrow night,
certain."
" Please God they may ! " said Broadhurst;
and the two men lapsed into silence for some
time, moodily staring into the glow of the
lire, and pulling at their short clays.
It was indeed, as Ilutton had said, a dirty
night. The wind was howling down
through the gorges of the western moun
tains, and whirling and eddying among the
streets of Trafalgar; whistling through tho
chinks in the rough wood cabins, and tear
ing away the frail shingles which formed
the roots. The streets were deserted save
for one or two stragglers from the drinking
shanties, who wrapped their cloaks around
them and staggered home through the wind
and rain towards their own cabins.
The silence was broken by Broadhurst,
who was evidently still ill at ease.
"Say, George," he said, "what's become
of Josiah Mapleton?"
"Went to the diggin's."
"Ay, but he sent word he was coming
back."
"But he never came."
"An' what's become of Jos Humphrey?"
he resumed, after a pause.
"lie went diggin', too."
"Well, did he come back?"
"Drop it, Broadhurst; drop it, I say," said
Hutton, springing to his feet and pacing up
and down the narrow room. " You're trying
to make a coward of me! You know the
men must have gone up country prospectin'
or farmin' maybe. What is it to us where
they went? You don't think I have a register
of every man in the eolony, as Inspector
Burton has of the lags."
"Sit down, George, and listen," said old
Tom. "There's something queer about that
road; something I don't understand and
don't like. Maybe you remember how Ma
loney, the one-eyed scoundrel, made his
money in the early mining days. He'd a
half-way drinking shanty on the math road
up on a kind of bluff, where the Lena comes
down from the lulls. You've heard, George,
how they found a sort of wooden slide from
m little backroom down to the river; an'
how jt came out that man after man had
had his drink doctored, and been shot down
jrtio eternity like a bale' of goods. No one
.:1J ever know how many were done away
ttii there. They were all supposed to be
nam' and prospectin' and the like, till
. ii bodies were picked out of the rapids
i.o use mincing matters, George; we'll
. . : he troopers along to the diggin's if those
J -iju'i turn up to-morrow night."
"A. you like, Tom," said Ilutton.
" !' the way, talking of Maloney it's a
rung thing," said Broadhurst, " that Jack
lUfUiie swears that he saw a man as like
latency with ten years added to him as
could be. It was in the bush on Monday
morning. Chance, I suppose; but yo'u'd
hardly think there could be tyo pair of
shoulders in the world carrying such vil
lainous mugs on the top of them."
" Jack Ualdane's a fool, growled Ilutton,
throwing open the door and peering anxiously
out into the darkness, while the wind played
with his long grizzled heard, and sent a train
of glowing sparks from his pipe down the
street.
"A terrible night! " he said, as ho turned
back towards the fire.
Yes, a wild tempestuous night; a night
for birds of darkness and beasts of pity.
A strange night for seven men to lie out in
the gully, it Bluemausdyke, with revolvers
in their hands and the devil in their hearts.
The sun was rising after the storm. A
thick heavy steam reeked up from the satu
rated ground, and huug like a pall over tho
flourishing little town of Trafalgar. A
bluish mist lay in wreaths over tha wide
track of bushJand around, out of which the
western mountains loomed like great islands
in a sea of vapor.
Something was wrong in the town. The
most casual glance would have detected that.
There was a shouting and a hurrying of feet.
Doors were slammed and rude windows
thrown open. A trooper of police came
clattering down with his carbine unslung.
It was past the time for Joe Buchan's saw
mill to commence work, but the great wheel
was motionless, for the hands had not ap
peared. There was a surging pushing crowd in the
main street before old Tom Broadhurst's
house, and a mighty clatter of tongues.
"What was it?" demanded the new-comers,
panting and breathless. "Broadhurst has
shot his mate." "He has cut his own throat,"
"He has struck gold in tho clay floor of his
kitchen." "No, it was his son Maurice who
had-come home rich." "Who had not come
back at all."
" Whose horse had come back
without him." At last the truth had come
out; and there was the old sorrel horse in
question whinnying and rubbing his neck
against the familiar door of the stable, as
if entreating entrance; while two haggard
gray-haired men held him by either bridle
and gazed blankly at his reeking sides.
"God help me," said old Tom Broadhurst,
"it is as I feared!"
"Cheer up, mate," said Ilutton, drawing
his rough straw hat down over his brow.
"There's hope yet."
A sympathetic and encouraging murmur
ran through the crowd.
" norse ran away, likely."
"Or been stolen."
"Or he's swum tho Wawirra au' been
washed off," suggested one Job's comforter.
"He ain't got no marks of bruising," said
another, more hopeful.
"Eider fallen off drunk, maybe," paid a
bluff old sheep-farmer. " I kin remember,"
he continued, " coming into town 'bout this
hour myself, with my head in my holster,
an' thinking I was a six-'cbambered revolver
mighty drunk I was."
" Maurice had a good scat, he'd never be
washed off."
"Not he."
"The horse has a wheal on it's off fore
quarter," remarked another, more observant
than the rest
"A blow from a whip maybe."
"It would be a darned hard one."
"Where's Chicago Bill? "said someone;
"he'll know."
Thus invoked, a strange gaunt fignre step
ped out in front of the crowd. He was an
extremely tall ud powerful man, with the
red shirt and high boots of a miner. The
shirt was thrown open, showing the sinewy
throat and massive chest. His faco was
seamed and scarred with mnny a conflict,
both with nature and iiis brother man; yet
beneath his ruffianly exterior there lay some
thing of the quiet dignity of tho gentleman.
This man was a veteran gold-hunter ; a real
old California 'iorty-niner, who had left
the fields in disgust when private enterprise
began to dwindle beforo the formation of
huge incorporated companies with their
ponderous machinery. But the red clay with
the little shining points had become to him
as the very breath of his nostrils, and he had
come half-way round the world to seek it
once again.
" Here's Chicago Bill," he said ; " what is
it?"
Bill was naturally regarded as au oracle,
in virtue of his prowess and varied experi
ence. Every eye was turned on him as
Braxton, tho young Irish trooper of constab
ulary, said, " What do you make of the horse,
Bill?"
The Yankee was in no hurry to commit
himself. Ho surveyed the animal for some
timo with his shrewd little gray eye. Ho
bent and examined tho girths; then he felt
the mane carefully. He stooped once more
and examined the hoofs and then the quar
ters. His eye rested on tho blue wheal
already mentioned. This seemed to put him
on a scent, for he gave a long low whistle,
and proceeded at once to examine the hair
on either side of the saddle. He saw some
thing conclusive apparently, for, with a side
long glance under his shaggy eyebrows at
the two old men beside him, he turned and
fell back among the crowd.
"Well, what d'ye think?" cried a dozen
voices.
"A job for you," said Bill, lookirig up at
the young Irish trooper.
"Why, what is it? What's become of
young Broadhurst? "
"He's done what better men have done
afore. He has sunk a shaft for gold and
panned out a coffin."
"Speak out, man! what have yon seen?"
cried a husky voice.
" I've seen the graze of a bush-ranger's
bullet on the horse's quarter, an' I've seen a
drop of the rider's blood on the edge of the
saddle Here, hold the old man up, boys;
don't let him drop. Give him a swig of
brandy an' lead him inside. Say," he con
tinued, in a whisper, gripping tho trooper
by the wrist, "mind, I'm in it. You an' I
play this hand together. I'm dead on sich
varmiu. We'll do as they do in Nevada,
strike while the iron is hot. Get any men
you can together. I s'pose you'ie game to
come yourself?"
"Yes, I'll come," said young Braxton, with
a quiet sraile.-
The American looked at him approvingly.
He had learned in his wanderings that an
Irishman who grows quieter when deeply
stirred is a very dangerous specimen of the
genus homo.
"Good lad," ho muttered; and the two
went down the street together towards tho
station house, followed by half a dozen of
the more resolute of the crowd.
One word, before we proceed with our
story, or our chronicle rather, as every word
of it is based upon fact. The colonial trooper
of fifteen or twenty years ago was a very
different man from bis representative of to-
day. Not that I would imply any slur upon
the courage of the latter; but for reckless
dare-deviltry and knight-errantry the old
constabulary has never been equalled. The
reason is a simple one. Men pi V"'iitlo blood,
younuer sons an! wild rakes who had out
run the constable, were sent off to Australia
with some wild ideaof making their fortunes.
On arriving, they found Melbourne by no
means the El Dorado they expected , they
were unfit for any employment, their money
was soon dissipated, and they unerringly
gravitated iiito the mounted police. Thus a
sort of colonial "Maisou liouge" became
formed, where tfie lowest private had as
much pride of birth and education as his
officers. Thcjr were men who might have
swayed the fate of empties, yet who squan
dered away their lives iu many a lone wild
light with native and bush-ranger, where
nothing but a moulde-ring blue-ragged skele
ton was left to tell the tale.
It was a glorious sunset. The whole
western sky was ablaze of flame, throwing
a purple tint upon the mountains, and gild
ing the tombrc edges of the great forest
which sqfreads between Trafalgar and the
rier Wawirra. It stretched out, a primeval
unbroken wilderness, save at the one point
where a rough track had been formed by the
miners and their numerous camp-followers.
This wound amid ihe great trunks in a zig
zag direction, occasionally making a long
detour to avoid some mur&hy hollow or es
pecially dense clump of vegetation. Often
it could be hardly discerned from the, giound
around save by the scattered hoof-mat ks and
an occasional rut.
About fifteen miles from Trafalgar there
j stands a little knoll, well sheltered and
overlooking the road. On this knoil a man
was lying sis the sun went down that Friday
evening. He appeared to shun observation,
for lie had chosen that part in which the
foliage was thickest; yet he seemed decid
edly at his ease, as he lolled upon his hack
with his pipe between his teeth, and a broad
hat down over his face. It was a face that
it w.'is well to cover in the presence of so
peaceful a scene a face pitied with the
scars of an imirialerial small-pox. The fore
head was broad and low ; one eye had appar
ently been gouged out, leaving a ghastly
cavity ; the other was deep-set, cunniug,and
vindictive. The mouth was hard aud cruel ;
a rough beard covered the chin. It was the
cut of face, which, seeu in a lonely street, j
would instinctively make one shift the grasp
of one's stick from the knob end to the
ferrule the face of a bold aud unscrupulous
man.
Some unpleasing thought seemed to occur
to him, for lie rose with a curse and knocked
the ashes out of his pipo. "A darned fine
thing," he muttered, " that I should have to
lie out like this ! It was Barrett's fault the
job wasn't a clean one, air now he picks me
out to get the swamp fever. If he'd shot t he
horse as I shot the man, we wouldn't need a
watch on this side of the Wawirra. He
always was a pour white-livered cuss. Well,"
he continued, picking up a gun which lay in
the grass behind him, " there's no use my
waiting longer; they wouldn't start during
the night. Maybe the horse never got home,
maybe they gave thorn up as drowned ; any
how it's another man's turn to-morrow, so
I'll just give them live minutes and then
make tracks." Ho sat down on the slump
of a tree as he spoke and hummed the verse
of a song. A sudden thought seemed -to,
strike him, for he plunged his hand into .his
pocket, and, after home searching, extracted
a pack of playing cards wrapped in a piece
of dirty brown paper. He gazed earnestly
at their greasy faces for some time. Then
he took a pin from Lis sleeve and pricked a
small hole in the corner of each ace and
knave. Ho chuckled as he shu filed them
up, and replaced them in his pocket. "I'll
have my share of the sv.ag," he growled.
"They're sharp, but they'll not spot that
when the liquor is in them. By the Lord,
here they are ! "
He had sprung to his feet and was bend
ing to the gronud, holding his breath as he
listened. 'To the unpractised ear all was as
still as before the hum of a passing insect,
the chirp of a bird, the rustle of the leaves;
but the bush-ranger rose with the air of a
man who has satisfied himself. "Good-bye
to Bluemausdyke," said ho; "I reckon it
will be too hot to hold us for a time. That
thundering idiot! he's spoilt as nice a lay
as ever was, an' risked our necks in the bar
gain. I'll see their number an' who they
are, though," he continued ; aud, choosing a
point where a rough thicket formed an ef
fectual screen, he coiled himself up, and lay
like some venomous snake, occasionally rais-
inghishead and peering betweeu the trunks
at the reddish streak which marked the
Trafalgar road.
There could be no question now as to the
approach of a, body of horsemen. By the
time our friend was fairly ensconed in his
hiding-place the sound of voices aud the
clatter of hoofs 'vas distinctly audible, and
in another moment a troop of mounted men
came sweeping romul the curve of the road.
They were eleven all told, armed to the teeth,
and evidently well on the alert. Two rode
in front with rifles msluiig. leismly scan
ning every bush which might shelter an
enemy. The main bedy kept about fifty
yards bohiud them, wlilo a solitary horse
man brought up the rear. The ranger
scanned them narrowly is they passed. He
seemed to recognize most of them. Some
were his natural enemies, the troopers; the
majority were miners wholi.nl volunteered
to get rid of an evil which affected their in
terests so closely. They weie a fine bronzed
set of men, with a deliberate air about them,
as if they had come for a purixj.se and meant
to attain it. As the last rider passed beforo
his hiding-place the solitary watcher started
and growled a curse in his beanl. "I know
his darned face," he raid ; "it's 5ill Hanker,
the man who got the drop on Long Nat
Smeatou in Silver City in 'f',; what the
thunder brought him here? I must he off by
the back track, though, an' let the boys know."
So saying he picked up his gun, and with a
scowl afier the distant party he crouched
down, and passed rapidly and silently out of
sight into the very thickest part of the bush.
To bo continued. 1
GRANDPA'S WHISKERS.
Grandpa likes to kiss wco SalHe.
She sayrt no;
Buy his whiskera, thick and huahy,
l'rick. her so.
Gnuuljm'a head is smooth and shiny
On tho top,
Where tho hair began to thin, aud
V. onld not htoj).
Grandpa kisses Salliu questions
So 'lis Miid:
"Grandpa, why not put your whiskers
On your head'"
FRENCH DETECTIVES.
Some five or six years ago, being on a visit
to Paris, went to see a friend, a French
gentleman I had known for many years, who,
with his wife and only daughter, lived in a
small house in the Faubourg St. Gtrmain.
I found the family one aud all in the great
est pof-sibiti ei.citeim.nf. During the night
their domicile had been broken into and
property to the value of about 150.000 irar.es
('1,200;, consisting of plate, jewels, money
and bonds, had been stolen. My -friend was
by no means a rich man, and the loss was to
him a 't.ry serious one. The strangest part
of tho affair was that no one seemed to have
the slightest idea by who or how the lost
things had been taken. They were kept in
a large iron-clamped chest, which was never
moved out of the sallea manger, and which
was found in its usual place next morning,
luit with the lock forced open. The servants
of the family were only two in number, and
consisted of :ui elderly man and his wife,
who had been in the same service for more
than ten years. They did not sleep on the
same floor as their master and mistress; but,
as is usual in Paris, occupied a room some
.stories higher in the mausardc or attic. They
had a key by which to let themselves in from
the back stairs to tho kitchen in the morn
ing; but at the time of the robbery neither
one nor tlie other had been in the dining-room
where the chest was kept until
after iny friend's daughter had found out
what had happened. The lady of the house
had locked the chest it was her usual habit
before slio had retired to rest the previous
night. The key was found hanging on a nail
at the head of her bed, its usual place. Tlie
theft must have been committed between
eleven p. m.. when the chest was locked, and
eight a. m., when tlie daughter discovered
the Joss. The concirrtji declared that no one
kivo those who livid in the house had passed
his lodge during those hours. The door of
the apartment opening on to the main stair
case was found locked and tlie key on the
inside. Altogether it was a most mysteri
ous business, of which no one could make
any tiling save that the propeiiv had vanish
ed
, i.iv.n.iuit u, luiisi, ii.ic uei;n uikuu iry
4 !ifr.ifiT- .1 ..w.i-4 I..-.... 1..-.-. !.,... 1..
some one.
My friend resolved to go at once to the
Kue de Jerusalem the Scotland yard of
Tail's. aud ask the authorities to inquire
iulo the matter. I suggested an agent de
police or policeman from the nearest station
might, be called, but ivto told that that was
not the way they did things in Paris. The
policeman that kept order in the streets, and
those whose business it is to discover what
h.is become of stolen property, are two de
partments perfectly distinct from each other.
Being anxious to see how our neighbor man
aged u Hairs of this kind, and whether they
were better up to their work than our Lou
don detectives, I accompanied my friend to
the Prefecture de Police, where he scut in
his card, and we were at once, ushered into
the presence of a quiet-looking elderly gen
tleman, one of the sous-chefs of the depart
ment, who looked more like a bank man
ager, or head clerk in a large mercantile
house, than a man whose occupation was to
indicate where the thieves and others who
were "wanted" could be laid hans on.
A Frenchman is nothing if he is not polite.
Tlie individual into whoso sanctum we were
shown welcomed us Ailh a civility which
nothing could exceed. He heard 1113' friend's
, story from first to last, made a few notes
,with a pen in a kind of diary which he had
on his desk, and now and then asked a ques
tion or two respecting tlw house and apart
ment which had been robbed, the servants,
visitors, and other matters But he did not
detain us loug. The interview was over in
twenty minutes. The sois-ehef ihen told
my friend that he would scad one of his sub
ordinates to see the chest tho next day. In
the meantime would my friend prepare a
list and as minute a descriition as possible
of the property that had hem stolen ? As a
mle Frenchmen, no matter to what rank of
life they belong, hnvo the greatest possible
respect for all w ho are in air way connected
with the police, and never dearu of disput
ing what they say, but my fi'end was some
what annoyed at what he teemed useless
delay, and asked whether tb police agent
could not be sent at once. 1'he sous-chef,
however, overruled his objectin, and said it
was best, for many reasons, thtagent should
not go the house until next y. "Jn the
first place," he said, "I do not vish any one
but yourselves to know that til gentleman
who will call on you to-inorrov is in anv
way connected with the polio Ho will
send up a card, and you will be kud enough
to receive him as a friend talk tthim of the
robbery in the presence of your scnuifsasyou
would to any casual acquaintance.' I To then
turned to me aud said, laughingly " yc do
not manage these affairs as you d in Lon
don. "We don't afiiche our police; 70 don't
send constables (he pronounced tic word
"conestabel") to make a fuss and pt every
one on their guard; we like to dc things
quietly; the result is better." H then
bowed us out and we took our denture,
not over assured as to what the upsot of
the affair would be.
" Un monsieur qui desire vous voir,' said
my friend's man-servant next day, puling
a card into his master's hand, just a -we
were finishing our mid-day meal, an .1
genllemau-like, middle-aged man as
shown in. lie was close shaved astoiJe
chin and upper lip, but wore small wic
kers, mo're like an Englishman of businiy
of ten years ago than a native of la belj
France. He was well, but not fashionabb
dressed, and carried a small cane, with whic
he kept gently tapping his boot when no
speaking, when the servant was in the
room he confined his conversation to gener- He was a very intelligent person and evi
alities,and gave his opinions freely on tho deutly a man of education. He had been in
political subjects of the day, When my
friend spoke of the robbery and pointed to
the chest out of which the property had
been taken he merely glanced at il, luokud
at the lock for a moment, and then turned
the conversation.
He asked madam to call her maid and
talk to her on some indifferent subject.
This was done, and I watched his face
durirjg the time tho woman was present;
but he merely looked at her once, and con
tinued talking to me.
The only point on which he seemed really
anxious was to obtain a fuller description of
the articles lost than that he had been al
ready furnished with.
My friend offered to give him details then
and there, but he declined to wait for if, on
the plea that by prolonging his visit he
might arouse suspicion among the servants.
AVe suggested meeting him near the Kue de
Jerusalem; but he laughed at the idea.
" saying that if ho were once seen near tho
police office his occupation would be gone,
as he would be no longer of any real use as
an agent of the police. So an appointment
was made to meet at the Cafe du Holder, on
the Boulevards, whero a more detailed de
scription of thelost property should be given
to him. He then took his leave, but asked
me to accompany him down stair3, so as to
impress the concierge with the idea that he
was an acquaintance of some standing.
Before arriving at the bottom, I found my
friend had managed to dirty his coat in a
manner which necessitated his turning into
the concierge's lodge to borrow a clothes
brush, thereby gaining an opportunity of
casting an eye round tlie small room and on
ifvS occupier. To me, being initiated, the ob
ject was palpable, though quite unsuspected
by tiie individual in question. When the
brushing was over, we walked out together,
and in the course of conversation we
touched upon the way in which some per
sons can so disguise themselves as to hide
their individuality from their most intimate
friends.
I expressed myself as being doubtful
whether this could be really done, provided
the parties to be deceived were on the look
out for such deception. My companion dif
fered from me, and offered to disguise him
self so effectually that he woutd, in the
course of the next twenty-four hours, speak
to me for at least ten minutes without ar
rousing my suspicions. I accepted the chal
lenge, and staked the price of a dejeuner at
any cafe he would like to name. He agreed,
and the very same day won the bet in the
following manner:
Shortly after leaving the detective I met
an old friend, who asked me to dine with
him at Versailles that evening. I agreed to
do so, but could not leave Paris as early as
my friend intended to do, and, therefore,
told him I should go down by the 5:30 train
from the Gare St. Lazare. I did so, and as
I got into a first-class carriage I remarked a
short, .gentlemanly-looking man, with white
hair, who followed me into the same com
partment. Frenchman-like, he began to talk
about tilings in general, aud we chatted,
more or less, all the way to Versailles. When
within ten minutes or so of our destination
my new friend quietly took oil his hat, pull
ed oil" a wig, got rid of a mustache, and, to
my utter amazement, sat revealed before me
as my friend, the detective! How he had
managed to find out that I was going to
Versailles which I had no idea of myself
when i left him or how he had so effect
ually concealed his appearance, that I, sit
ting within three feet of him, had no idea
he was the man I had left some four hours
previously, are problems which I cannot
solve. Tiie detective himself only laughed
when I asked him how he had contrived it.
He was evidently greatly flattered at the
amazement I displayed ; but, beyond show
ing me with some pride his wig and mus
tache, he wa3 very reticent, and would not
eittor into any details. That he had fairly
won tlie breakfast there could be no doubt,
but he said he would rather put off the event
until he. could see his way as to whether or
not he should be able to recover a part of
the property my friend had lost. We then
parted, he taking the train back to Paris, I
going on to the house where I was engaged
to dine.
Tin's whs on tho Thursday evening. On
the Monday, about eleven a. mv the waiter
of the hotel where I was staying told me
that a gentleman wished to speak to me. lie
was shown up, and this time the detective
Was not disguised. He fold me that for
reasons which I would learn later, he thought
it better to come to me than to go to my
friend's house in the Faubourg St. Germain.
He said he had gocd news ; for that he be
lieved that the greater part of the stolen
property had been recovered, and asked me
to go the Prefecture de Police on the following
day, about 1 wo p. m., and to take my friend
with me. We did so, and found that what
the deteetive had told me was true. A mom:
other valuables that had been stolen was a
canvas bag containing between two and three
hundred napoleons. These had disappeared ;
but the jewelry, the plate, and what was
still more surprising, the bonds, payable, as
all such documents are in France, au porteur
(to the bearer), had been found, and were
ready for my friend to identify. This was
easily done, but nothing was allowed to be
touched for the present, as it would have to
be sworn to at the trial which would shortly
take place. When my friend returned home
he found that while hewrsat the Prefecture
the concierge had been arrested for conniv
ing at the theft, and in the lodge was found,
in a hidden cupboard, the bag containing the
money. In a word, without fuss, publicity
or Ics of time, the whole of the property
which had been stolen tlie week before Was
in the hands of the police. In ten days more
the trial was over. The concierge and two
of his relations were each condemned to Wxq
years of travaux forces (penal servitude), my
friend got back the whole of his property,
and, what to me as an Englishman seemed
much more extraordinary, the total expense
of the proceedings came to something like
one hundred francs (4). Even this pay
ment was nearly all voluntary, for my friend
insisted upon making a small present to the
detective, who had done his work so well.
To give any details as to how tho valua
bles were found, or how the robbery was
traced to the concierge, is not in my power.
The French police are invariably very
reticent, especially in cases like the one I
have attempted to describe. They have a
theory that publicity on such occasions is
a very great mistake aud hinders justice. I
called with my friend on the sous-chef to
thank him for the trouble he had taken.
higland on business connected with his
mice, and spoke very freely about our po-
'ce and their ways of doing business. He
msidered that such of the force as were
aployed in maintaining public order as
doug the very best in Europe ; but of our
elective system he had a very low opinion.
Abe said, very truly, no softneris a robbery
cctinitted in England than the utmost
pulicity is given to the whole affair, and
I thihieves aro jis well aware of what steps
arooing taken to unravel the matter as the
pole themselves. It is true that a certain
milder of our police wear plain clothes
insUd of uniform, but it is certain that
thesare as well known to the criminal
classi of London as their brethren who
wearlue tunics and helmets.
In jris the detective who is engaged in
tracinjerimo is, so to speak, hidden from
publiciew. He rarely goes oven .to the
Prcfcclre. de Police; ho has his order
given ha either by a confidential agent or
i
oy a letter written in cipher. He mixes in
society and meets all sorts and conditions
of men, but his occupation is'known to very
few persons indeed. So much is this the
case that the French detectives very seldom
know each other; that is to say, Mon-'enr
A. may be very well acquainted with Mon
sieur B., lint neither of them know that the
otner is employed by tlie police. I was told
by one of the authorities in the Bue do
Jerusalem that in London the undiscovered
are to those that are discovered in the pro
portion of three to one. If the French no-
lice are right in their statements the !arcr
the robbery that, takes place in Paris tho
greater chance there is of its being found
oat, whereas in London we know tlie exact
contrary to bo the case.
A WHALE HUNT,
When within two hundred yards of tho
whale we saw that the little black thing by
the monster's side was her calf. Captain
Mariano, seeing a fair mark, quickly fired
the swivel gun. A sharp report followed
and the boat quivered under the shock for a
full half minute. Following the sound ihe
u.trpoon count oe seen cleaving the twenty
fathoms of space between the boat and the
whale, in which it was buried out of c'ght
just below the right fore fin. Following and
attached to the steel missile was some two
hundred feet of the stout line coiled in the
bow, which bore the appearance of a flash
of dark brown lightning as it zigzagged
through the air after its powerful motor.
The wounded leviathan lay almost motion
less for a period of twenty seconds, as if
unable to comprehend the nature of tho
attack, and then, with a snort, like the puff
of a locomotive, she descended beneath the
surface at a rate that made the mauilla line
smoke and emit sparks of lire as it ran out
over the bows.
Suddenly the movement stopped; the
men bent to their oars, ready to pull in
either direction at the first sight of the in
visible monster. Captain Mariano peered
uneasily into the blue depths forward, the
boat sfeerer performing a similar office
astern. "Pacha pratrisl" (back all) sud
denly shouted the Captain, and the five oars
men sent the boat astern just in time to
clear by a couple of fathoms the black, ugly
hulk of the infuriated whale, as it rose to
the surface and spouted twin columns of
water forty feet in the air, a bucket or two
of the briny fluid seeking out the back of
the reporter's neck for a resting place as it
descended. Before the animated waterspout
could repeat the dose the boat was out of
range: both of his fire-extinguishing ap
paratus aad his terrible flukes which were
now beginning to thrash the water with a
violence that created a cloud of foam.
This performance lasted for two or three
minutes, during which the Captain was
unable to obtain a safe shot at the whale
with the bomb-gun, which he raised to hia
shoulder more than once only to lower it
again in despair. Suddenly the tail ceased
its exercise, and the next instant a jerk was
felt that buried the bow of the boat in a
white cap caused by the lightning-like
descent of the whale- Barely had the
stanch craft righted itself after tho shock
than a second tug was felt, and before the
despairing reporter could offer up a fear-inspired
prayer the boat was dashing through
the water at a terrible rate. The speed was
frightful, and for ten minutes the water
stood a wall fully eighteen inches above the
forward gunwale on each side of the boat,
the velocity preventing even a single drop
from entering the interior.
At the end of the time mentioned fully
four miles of tue distance between where
the animal was struck and the head of the
bay had been covered, and the speed of the
living tug began to slacken through ex
haustion. Finally it ceased altogether, and
after sponting a'strong jet of blood-red tinge
the stricken mother once more sounded.
Her stay underneath the waves was of short
duration, and on reappearing on the surface
her movements were only sufficient to keep
the gigantic carcass afloat. Pulling up to
within five fathoms of the whale the men
rested on their oars. Ten seconds later Cap
tain Mariano had his chance : a second ex
plosion was heard, and, the rubber-winged
bomb buried itself in the mass of blubber.
Scarcely had the smoke cleared away from
the bow, when the muffled boom of the
bomb, exploding in the historical residence
of Jonah, sounded the death-knell of tlie.
old humpback. The victim's huge bnlk
once more became animated, and tlie deadly
flukes lashed the water as tho whale strug
gled in the throes of death. The water
spouts changed into blocd-spor.ts, and grew
smaller and smaller as the struggles became
more contracted, until finally, with one hist
effort, the leviathan rolled on its back and
exmrea' .uie reporter neavetl a sign of
r?ie.t aml heart.lI7 JoinctI iu tJie crcw's sboufc
01 ieioiy, wtiicn was auswerctt irom tne
other boats, by this time only a few fathoma
distant. San Francisco Chronicle.
NATURE'S LAW.
The fiat of nature is inexorable. There is
no appeal of relief from the great law which
dooms us to dust. Wo flourish aud fade as
the leaves of the forest, and the flowers that
bloom and wither for a day have no frailer
hold upon life than the mightiest monarch
that ever shook the earth with his footsteps.
Generations of men will appear, and as tho
grass and the countless multitudes that
throng the world to-day, will to-morrow
disappear as the footsteps on the shore. Men
seldom think of the great event of death
until the shadow falls across their own path,
hiding from their eyes the traces of loved
ones, whose living smiles were the sunlight
of their existence. Death is the great antag
onist of life, and the cold thought of the
tomb i3 tho skeleton at all feasts. We do
not want to go through the dark valley, al
though its passage may lead to Paradise; and,
with Charles Lamb, we do not want to lie
down in the grave even with kings and
princes for our bed-fellows.
Philanthropy does not consist so much
in building costly edifices for pnblic use
making generous donations to art and other
institutions, or in contributing to the pleas
ure and happiness of those who can be com
fortable without such gifts, as it does in as
sisting tho humble, the downtrodden, and
otherwise unfortunate among men. A penny
kindly given to a worthy beggar is more in
the sight of God than an entire fortune de
voted to the founding of a university or tho
erection of the most elaborate monument, or
place of worship, even.
Mankind loves Mysteries a hole in the
irrouud "excites mora wonder than :i shir in
the heavens,
