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rt ,3fcse'3r5EW sp gasrp iv . X ! ill. ''' LMUUMPWWW1 Ifl A Woman My IIOIIUKT BAHH. Author of "The Faco anil the Slask," "la the Miast of Alarms," etc Copyright, 1803, by Hobcrt Barr. CHAPTER XXVI'. After the business of transferrins the mine to its new owner was completed, John Kenton went to the telegraph office ana sent" a short cable. message to Wentworth. Then be turned his steps to the hotel, an utterly exhausted roan. Thu excitement and tension of the day-bad been loo.much for him, and he felt that If lie did not set out of the city of Ottawa and Into the coun try where there wcrefcwerpeopleandmore Ho Wrote i Second Letter Contradict -Ihk tln'Henn"t at the Kirnt. air, he was going to bo HI. He resolved to lcaveforthe miiicnssoonaspossible. There he would s't things In as good order as pos sible and keep Ihings going until he heard from the owner. When he got to bis hotel ho wrote a letter to Wentworth, telling the circumstances under which he had secured the mine, rather briefly, and dealing with other more personal matters. Having posted thlshobegnuto pa ckhisportmauteau preparatory to leaving early next morning. While thus occupied the bell Iwy came into his room and said: "There Is a gentleman wishes to bee jou." Helniagtnedntoticethatlt was Yon Brent, who wished to see him with regard to some formality relating to the transfer, and he was, therefore, very much astonished, in fact, for the moment speechless, to see Mr. William Longworth euter and calmly gaze round the rather shabby room with his critical eyeglass. "Ah," he said, "these are your diggings, ore they? This Is what they call a dollar hotel, I suppose, over here? Well, some people may like lt.but I confess I don't care much about It myself. Their three or four dollar a day hotels are bad enough for rue. By the way, you look rather surprised to see me. Being &trargers together In a strange country, 1 expected a warmer greet ing. You said last night In f rontof the Bus sell House that it would please you very much to give me a warm greeting; perhaps you would like to do so tonight." "Have you come up here to provoke a Quarrel Willi nie?" asked Kenj-on. "Oh, bless you, no. Quarrel! Nothing of the -ort. What should 1 wantto iuarrel about" Perhaps you will be good enough to teu me wliv jou come here, then?1' "Very reasonable request, very reason able, Indeed, and perfectly natural, but still quite unnecessary. It Is not likely that a man would climb up here Into your rooms and then not !. prepared to tell you why lie come. I came. In the first place, to con gratulate vou on the beautiful and dramatic way lu which you secured the mine at the last moment, or apparently at the last mo ment. I suppose you had the monej all along?" "Mo, I had not." "Then vou came in to Von Brent just as oon as you received it?"' "Well, now, I don't see that It is the busi ness of any one else but myself. hlluVir you want to know, I have no objection to sajlng that I came to SIr.Yon iirent's room at the moment I received the money." "Really! Then It was sent over by cable, 1 presume?" " i'our presumption Is entirely correct. "Sly dear Kcnjon," said the young man, spatlng himself without being asked, and gazing at Jobnlu a benevolent kind of way, you really show some little temper over this affair of ours. Now here Is the whole thing In a nutshell" "Jly dear sir, 1 don't wih to hear the whole thing In a nutshell. I know all about It. All I wish to know." "Ah, precisely, of course you do, cer tainly, but nevertheless let me have my say. Here Is the whole thing. I tried to well, to cheat jou. rthoughtl could make a little money by doing so, and my scheme failed. Now If any body should be in a bad temper It is I, not jou. uont jou see that? 1'ou are not acting j our part well at all. I'm astonished at you'." "Sir. Longworth, I wish to have nothing whatever to say to you. If j-ou have any thing to ask 1 wish you -would ask it as quickly as possible and then leave me alone." "The chief fault I find with you. Ken yon," said Longworth, throwing onejeg over the other and clasping bis hands around his knee, "the chief fault I have to find is your palnf ullack oa sense of humor. Now, you remember last night I offered you the managership of themine. I thought certainly that by this tlmetoday I should be the owner of It, or at least one of the owners. Now you don't appear to appre ciate the funnlncss of the situation. Here you arc, the owner of the mine, and I am out In the cold 'Wt,' as they say here In America. I am the man who is left" "If that is all you have to talk, about," said Kenvon gravely,"I must ask you toal low me to go on with my packing. I am going to the mine tomorrow," "Ccrtainlj-, my dear fellow, go at once and never mind me. Can I be of any assistance to you? It requires a special genius, you know, to pack a portmanteau properly. But what I wanted to say was this why didn't you turn around, -when you had" sot the mine, and offer me the managership of It? Then you could have had your revenge The more I think of that episode In Von Brent's office the more I think you utterly failed to realize the dramatic possibilities of the situation." Kenyon was silent. "Now all this time yon are -wondering whs' I came here. Doubtless you wish to know what I want "I have not the slightest interest in the matter," said Kenyon. "That Is ungracious, but nevertheless I will continue. It. is lietter, I see, to be honest with you, if a person wants to get anythingoutof jou. 1 want to know where you got the money with which you bought too mine?" "I got it from the bank." "Ah, jes, but I want to know who sent it over to j-ou." "It was senl to me by George Went wortb." - "Quite sobut now I want to know who iavo Weiitworth the money?" Tou will have a chance of finding that nut when you go to England by asking blni." "Then you won't tell me?" "I can't tell you." 'Tou mean by that, of course, that you won't." . "I always mean. Sir. Longworth, ex actly what I say. I mean that I can't tell you. I don't know myself." ., "Really?" - "Yes, really. Ypu seem to have some difficulty In believing that anybody can ipeak the truth." "Well, It Isn't a common vice sneaking the truth. Vou must forgive a little sur prise." 'He nursed his knee for a moment, and looked meditatively up at the celling. Now -would you like to know -who fur nished that money?" "I have no curiosity In the matter, what- "Have you not? Well, you are a singu imp, tu'lil - - Intervenes lar man. It seems lo me that a person into whoso lap 20,000 drops from the skies would have some little curiosity to know from whom the money came." "I haven't the slightest." "Nevertheless, I will tell you who save the money to-WeutwortJi. It was my dear friend Melville. I didn't tell jou in New York, of course, that Melville and I had n little quarrel nbout this matter, and he went home decidedly huffy. I .had no Idea lie would tafco this method of revenge, but I see It quite ckurlj now. He kuew I hail received the option of Uio mine. There was a little trouble as to what each of our respective shares was to behind I thought, as 1 had secured the option, I riad the right to dictate terms. Bethought differently. Ho wiw going to Von Brent to explain the whole matter, but I pointed out that such a course nould do no good, i the option being legally made out In my name, so Hint me 11101111111, juui u.iu expired, mine began. When this dawned upon him, he took the steamer and went to England. Now I can see his hand in nil rinioi in nTe affair. It was a pretty sharp trick of Slelville'b, and 1 give -him I credit ror It. lie is a very muwisu-i"" and cleverer man than I thought." "It si-ems to me, Mr. Longworth, that your inordinate conceit makes you alwajs underiatimatejour friends, or your citemles either, for that matter." "Tlure.13 something In that, Kcnjon; I think jou are more than half right, Imt I thought, perhaps, I could make i. advan tageous to vou to do me a favor in this matter. I thought jou "might have no ob jection lo writing a little document to the ..riwuimr tiiemom-v did not come lu time, and consequently I -had secured the mlnej Then, If jou would sign mat 1 cuum u; It otr to SleiUlle and make terms with him. Of course, it he knows that he lois the mine there will not be much chance of coming to any arrangement with him." . J Toucan makeiioarranKeinentswltlinic, Mr. Longwortu, tuat. invoivu u niuhkci'i the. truth." "Ah, well, I suspected as much, but I thought It was worth -while to try. How ever, my dear sir, I may make terms with Slelville yet, and then-1 imagine you won't have much to do with the mine." "I shall not have anj-tiilng to do with it If j-ou and Melville have a share In it. And if, as j-ou suspect, Melville has the mine, I consider you are In a liad way. Sly opinion is that when one rascal gets an advantage over another rascal, the qther rascal will be, as jou say, 'left.' " Longworth mused over this for a moment and 6aid: "Yes, I fear jou are right In fact, I ani certain of It. Well, that Is all I wanted to know. I will bid you good-by. I shan'tsee j-ou agalnln Ottawa, as I shall sail very shortly for England, llaveyouany messages jou would like gen 10 your friends over there."' "None, thank jou." , "Well, ta la," and the young man left John to his packing. When that necessary operation was con cluded, Kenyon sat down and thought over what young Longworth liad told him. His triumph, afterall, had been shortlived. The choice between the two scoundrels was so small that he felt he didn't care which of them owned the mine. Sledltatlnguponthis disagreeable subject lie suddenly remem bered a request he had asked Wentworth to make to thencw owner of the mine. He wanted no favor from Slelville; so lie wrote a second letter contradicting the request made in the first, and after iiostlng it re turned tohisliotel and went to bed, probably the most tired man In the city of Ottawa. CHAFTER XXVII. This chapter consists largely of letters. Asa gcuernl tiling letters are of little con cern to any one except the w titers and the receivers, but they are inserted here under the hope that the reader is already well enough acquainted with the correspocdeuts to feelsome interest In what they hae written. It was nearly a.fortnigia after the re ceipt of the cablegram from Kenyon that George Wentworth found one morning on his desk to letiers, each bearing a Ca nadian postage 6tnmp. One was somewhat bulky nnd one was thin, but they were Jiolh from the same writer. He tore open the thin one rirst, without looking at the date that was stamjied upon it. He was ajlttle bewildered by its contents, which, ran as follows: "My Dear George: I have Jut heard that Slelville Is the man who has bought the mine. The circumstances or me case icai e no doubt In my mind that such Is the fact; therefore plea sedlTcgardthercciuestl made as to cniplojmcMit In the Jetter I posted So j-ou a short time ago. I fel a certain sense of disappointment in thefactthat Slel ville Is the owner of the mine. H seems I have only kept one rascal from buj-tng it to put it in the bauds st another rascal. Your frelcnd, John Kenyon." "Slelville the owner!" criiil Wentworth to himself. "Whaleer could have put that into John's heart? This letter is evidently the one ported a few hours be fore, so it will contain whatever request he has lo make," ami, without delayr George Wentworth tore open the envelope of the second letter, which was obviously the one writleu rirst. It contained n number of documcuu relating lo the trans fer or the mine. The letter from John himself went ou to give-particulars of tho buvlng of the mine. Then it continued. "I wish you wouiu ao me u nnor. umii.-. Will you kindly ask the owner of Hie mine If he will give me charge of it. I am, of course, anxious to make it turn out as well as possible, and I believe I can earn more than my salary, whatever it Is. You know I am not grasping in the maltcr of monej-. but get mo as large a salary as you think I deserve. "I desire to make money for reasons that are not entirely-selfish, as jou know. To tell you the truth. George, I am tired of cities and or people. I want lo live here in the woods, where there Is not 60 much deceit and treachery as there seems to be In the big towns. When I reached London last time I felt like a boy getting home. My feelings Jiave undergone a complcto. change, and I think, if It were not for you nnd a certain young lady, I should never care to see the big city again. What is the use of my affecting mystery and writing the words 'a cer tain voung lady." Of course, you know whom I mean Sliss Edith Loiigwonh. You know that I am, and have long been. In love with her. It I bad succeeded in making the money 1 thought I should bv selling the miner- I might have had some hopes of miking more, nnd of ultimately being In u position to ask her to be my wife. "But that, and very many other hopes, have uisappearea wun ray recent London experiences. "I want to get Into the woods anu recover some of mv lost tone and iriy lost faith In human nature. If you canarrange matters with the owner of the mino so that I may stay here for a-year ottwo, you will do me ? great favor." George Wentworth read over the latter part of th Is letter two or three times. Then he rose, paced the floor, and pondered over the matter. "It isn't a thing upon which I can ask anyone's advice," he muttered to himself. "The trouble" with Kenyon Is he ls-entlrely too modest. A little useful self-esteem would be Just the thing for him." At last he stopped suddenly in his walk. "By Jove," he said to himself, slapping his thigh. "I 6hall do it, let the consequences be what they may." And he sat down to his desk and wrote a letter. "Sly dear Miss Longworth," it licgan, "you told me when j-ou -were here last that you wanted all tho documents in tho case of the mine in every instance. A docu- ment has come this morning that is very im portant. John Kenyon, as you will learn bv reading the letter, desires the manager ship of the mine. I need not say'that I think he is the best man in the world for the po sition, and that every thing will be safe In his hands. I therefore inclose you his letter. I had some' thought of cutting out sonic part of it, but knowing your desire, as you said, to haveall the documents In tho case, I take tho liberty of sending this one exactly as It reached me. and .Ifany one is to blame, I am the person. I remain your agent. GEORGE WENTWORTH." ' He sent this letter oat at oncc,.so that he would not have a chance tochangehis mind. "It -will reach her this afternoon, and doubtless she will call nnd see me." It is. perhaps, hardly necessary lo say sho did not call, and she did not see blm for many days afterward, bul next mqm Ing, -when he camo to his office, be found a letter from ber.' It ran: ' "Dear Mr. Wentworth: The sending of THE MOltNLNG TIMES, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 29, 1895. Sir. Kenyon's letter to me Is a somewhat dangerous precedent, which -you must, on no account, follow by sending any letters you may receive from any other; person lo Sir. Kenyon. However, as you -were prob ably aware -when ou sent tbo letter, no blame will rest on your shoulders or on those of tiny one else, in this instance, ouu, uv vprv rnrerul In future, uecause miixi sending, unabridged, is sometimes a risky tiling to do. All tne same, you are iu c inember thai I always want all the docu ments in the case, and I -want'tbcui'wlth nothing eliminated. I am very much obliged to jo'i c forwarding me Uie letter. "As to the managership of tno mine, of course. I thought Mr. Kenyon would desire tcTcomo back to London. It he Is content- to stay abroad, and really wants to stay there, I -wish you would tell him that Mr. Smith is exceedingly pleased to know he is willing to lako charge of the mine. It woald not look businesslike on the part of Sir. -fcinlth lo say ho Is to name bis own uaiurv. but unfortunately Sir. Smith is very Ignorant as to what a proper salary should I ... , 1.1 ,,.. -nll.. ,1. , n,.A(.(irtn7 IK, ISO Will JUU KII1U1J SI.-i,m m,v nMw..v... You know mo usual binary lor sum occupation. Please wrll down that fig ure and add two hundred a jear to It. Tell Sir. Kenyon the amount named Is ttiesaiarj "Sir. Smith assigns to him. "Pray be very carcftil In the wording or thu inters, so that Mr. Kenyon will not have any Idea who Mr. Smith Is. Tours truly, EDITH LONGWORTH." When Wentworth received Oils letter, being a man, he did not know whether Miss Longworth was pleased or. not. However, he speedily -wrote to John, telling him that he was appointed manager of the mine, and that SlrBmll!i was very pleased to have him in that capacity: Ho named the salary, but said if It was not enough, no doubt Sir. Smith was so anxious for Us services that tlio amount would be In creased. "John, when he got the letter, was more than satisfied. At the same time Wentworth had Ikvi reading Bis letters, John had received those which had been sent to lum when the mine was bought. He was relieved to find that Slelville-was- not, after nil, the owner, and he went to work with a will, Intending to put In two or three years of his life with hard labor in developing the resource of thu property. The first fortnight, before he received any letters, ho did nothing but makohlmself acquainted with the way work was being carried on there. He found many things to Improve. The machinery had been allowed to rundown, and themen worked In the listless 'way men do wlirn they arc under no particular supervision. Themanager of the mine was very anxious about his position. John told him the property had change-d hands, but until he had further news from England he could not tell just what would be done. When thelettcrs came John took hold with a vim. and there was soon a decldid Improvement in the way affairs weregolng. Heallowed the old manager'to remain as a sort of sub manager, but that Individual soon round out the easy times of the Austrian Mining Companj- were forever gone. Kenyon had to take one or two long trips In Canada and the lnlted States to arrange "Well, Mr. Kenyou," crledjx laughing WfPilllllliflfllll this iiioriitiijr,lldyou for the disposal ot thc"prodncts of the mine, but as a general rule bis time was spent entirely in the log village near tho river. When a year had passed he was able to write a very Jubilant letter to Went worth. "You sec," he said, "arter all the mine was worth the 200,000 wo asked for it. It pays, even the first j-car, 10 per cent on that amount. This will give back all themine has cost, and I think, George, the honest thing ror us to do would be to let tiie whole proceeds go to Sir. Smith this j-ear, who advanced the money at a critical time. This will recoup hltn for his own ontlaj-, because tho -working capital has not been touched. The mica has more than paid the working of the mine, and nil the rest Is clear profit. Therefore, if you are willing, -we will let our third go this year, and then we can take our large dividend next year with a clear conscience. I Inclose the balance sheet." To this letter there came an answer in due time from Wentworth, who said, be had placed John'B proposal peiore iur. Bmltb, but -it Beeined the gentleman was so pleased with tho profitable investment be had made that he would bear of no other division of the profits but-that ot share and share alike. He appeared to "be very much touched by the offer John had made, and respected him for making it, but the proposed rescinding on bis part ul Went worth's was a thing not to be thought of. This being tbo caso, John sent a letter and a very large check to bis father. The moment ot posting that letter was doubt less one of the happiest of his life, and this ends the formidable array of letters which appearsln this chapter. HAPTEIl XXVIII. Kenyon's luck, as lie said to himself, bad turned. The second year was. even more prosperous than the first, and the third as successful as the second. 'He had a steady market for bis mineral.and, besides, he had had the great advantage ot knowing the rogues to avoid. Some new swindles lie had encountered during bis first year's experience had taught him lessons that he prorited by in the second and third. He liked his home- In the wilderness, and he liked therouglipeoplcamoDgwhombefouud himself. Notwithstanding his renunciation or Lon don, however, there would now and then come up a j-carning for the big city, and he promised himself a trip thereat the end of the third Tear. Wentworth. had been threatening monlli after month to come out and see him, but something had always In terfered. - Taking It ail In all, John liked Itbetter In -winter than in summer. In spite ot the extreme cold. The cold wasateady. and could be-depcnded upon; moreover It was .healthful and-s-lnvlgorating. In snmmer John never quite became accustomed to the ravages of the black flyj-the mosquito and other Insect pcsts'ot that season. His first interview with the Ma flylett his fact? in such a condition that he was glad lie lived In a w lldrrness, - t At the beginning otvfhe second winter Jolin treated lilmr.Il-to -o luxury. He bought a Datty little FrGJch Canadian horse that was very quick nnctaccustomecf to the Ice, because the IteotjUw; river formed the highway 'by which he itaclieel TJurntplne from the mlue. To- srfpiAeinnit the horse he also got a comrortSwdillttle'cutter, and with this turnout? hcr'uiade his frequent Journeys between thuwuTne and Burntplne with comfort and speejL, wrapped" snugly in Buffalo robea. ' If London often reverted to bis mind, there was another ,ubject that obtruded Itself even more frequently.. His Increased prosperity had something to do with this. Ho saw that. It ne ivas lo.nave u. euiru.oi tho mine he was not to remain a poor man for very long, and this fact gave- him a certain courage- which had been lacking Ix-fore. He wondered If she remembered him. Wentwortlf had said very little about her In his letters, and Kenyon, in spite or tho confession he hnd made -when his case seemed hopeless, nan loatli to write anu ask his friend anything' about ner. One day, on a clear, sharp, frosty-winter morning, Kcnjon hnd his little pony har nessed for bis weekly Journey, to Burnt pine. AITler the rougher part of the Jour ney between the mine and the river bad been left behind and the pony got down to her work in ll.e fee, Villi Ibe two white banks of snow on either side of the smooth track, John gave hlnueltVup lo thinking nbout the subject which now so often engrossed his mind. Wrapped closely Irt his furs, with the cutter skimming- along the ice, these thoughts found n pleasant atcompanlment in the silvery tliiklo of the bel's which jingled around bis horse's neck. As .1 general thing he met no 0110 on the icy road from the mine to the village. Sometimes there was a proces sion of sleighs bearing supplies for his own mine and those bejo'ml, and njicn this pro cession was seen, Kcicjou had to look out for somo place by the side gf t lie track whero he could pull up his horse and cutter and allow the teams to pass. The snow on eacli side of the cutting-was so deep that these bays were shovelled out here ana mere 10 permit tennis to get past each other. He had gone hair wayto me imago wucu he saw ahead of lilm'a pair of horses which heat once rccognlzedasthoscbelonglnglo the hotel kct'ier. He drew up In the first biy and awaited the approach of the sleigh. He saw that It contained visitors for him self, becauso the driver, on recognising him, had turned round ami spoken lo the occupants of tho vehicle. As It came along the man drew up and nodded to Kenyon, who, ulthough ordinarily the most polite of mn, did. not return tho salutation. He was stricken dumb with astonishment at seeing, who was In the sleigh. One woman was so liundlsl up that not eveii her nose appeared out In the cold, but the smiling, rosy faco of the other needed no Introduction to John Kenyon. "Well, Mr. Kenyon," cried a laughing voice, "you did not expect to see inothls morning, did you?u "I confess I did not," said John, "and - toIc, "you illd not expect to ,eo mo yet," hero he paused. He was going to say, "and yet I was thinking of you, but he checked himself. Sliss Longworth, who had, a talent for reading the unspoken thoughts of John Kenyon, probably did not need to be told the end of the sentence. "Are you going to the village?" she asked. ' "I was going; I am not going now." "That's right. I was Just going to In vite jou to turn round with us. You see, we are on our way to look at the mine, and, I suppose, we shall bavo to obtain the consent of the manager before wo can do so." Sliss Longworth's companion had emerged for a moment from her wraps and looked at John, but instantly retired among the furs again with a shiver. She was not so young as her companion, and she considered thlssthe most frightful climate she had evecjencountered. "Now," said Jobd, "although your sleighMs very comfortable, I think tills or mine is even more so. 11 is juicuucu for two, won't you sfdn out of the sleigh Into. tho cutter? Thrii,If the driver will move on, I can turnland we will follow the sleigh." ' "I shall bo delighted o do so," said the young woman, shafting herself free from the burralo robe an,d stepping lightly from the sleigh into ttrq cutter, pausing, however, for a motnent, beforo she did so, to put her own wraps over her com panion. John tucked her in beside him-, selr, and, as the sft-igW Jingled on, h slowly turned his pony Jo)ind Into the road again. "I have gotJaS Ifetly fast ponjV' be said, "but I think .fve -will let them drive on ahead. It IrrltaK'S Mils llttlenorsc to see anything In front "bfher." "Thcn we can make -Tip speed." said Edith". "aniLcatcb them before they get to the mine. It is far from here?" "No, not verjr far; at least. It doesn't take long to get there with a smart horse." l'I have enjoyed this experlcaco ever so much,"slicsald,"yousccmyfathcrhadeome to Montreal onbuslnessflplcame with Mm, as usual, and, being there, I thought I would run up here and seo the inlne.- I wanted" sho continued, looking at the. other sldeof the cutterandtralllng her well-, gloved fingers in trie snow. "I wanted to know personally whether my manager was conducting my propeny.in me way ij. ougui to be conducted, notwithstanding the very satisfactory balance sheets he semis." "Your property," exclaimed John In amazement. "Certainly. Ydu didn't know that, did you?" she replied looking for a moment at him nnd then away from him; "I call myself the Mistress of tin; Mine." "Then you are j-our are?" "Mr. Smith," said the glrlconilnc to -his fescue. There was a moment's pause and the next -words John said were not at all what iho expected. "Take your hand outotthe snow," he com manded, "and put It under tho buffalo robe; yon have noJdea how cold It Is here, and your band will be frozen In a moment." "Beal!y," said the girl; "an employe must not talk to his employer In Uiat tone. My hand is my own, Is It not?" "I hop it Is," said John, "because I want to ask you for It." For answer Miss Edith Longworth placed her band la his. Actions speak louder .than words. The sleigh was far la adunce, and there were no witnesses on the white-topped hlll. "Were you astonished," she said, "Wtieu I told J-ou I owned the mlne7" "Very much so, indeed. Were j-ou ns tonlshcd when I told jou I wished lo own the owner of tile mine?" "Not In the slightest." "Why?" "Because your treacherous friend Went worth sent me your letter applying ror a situation. You got the situation, didn't you, John?" THE END. THE STORY OF THE CIGARETTE. (rrom the French of Jules Clarelle.) Yes, monsieur. It was In the time of the war ofthelast Don Carlos. All thlsDasque country, these environs of Bt. Sebastian, these mountains ot Oulpuzcoa hcre-smclled ortlood und powder ror months ro"r long, long months. You ought to have seen the black and crackled walls in the country. They were once farms and houses, happy firing corners, but now they are ruius, al most cemeteries. That is war! How they fought! The Carlists on one side, the soldiers of the government of .Madrid on the other. They left a train of i wounded and djlng along the road poor fellows, who knew they were passing away and who were asking themselves why, wh)-? Civil wars! Civil wars are pretty things! And, whcnonethlnksof It, they may begin again to-morrow, ror docs any one know? Slen nrc so foolish! You see. one beautiful morning we were told the King was here that Don Carlos had arrived. Then It was simple. The old yeast was stirred up and we Basque peasants ran to thepretendcrand furnished blm an army. We put on a handsome uniform, our cap on tho ear, and arrived In the village with the trumpeter at-our bead, where we formed for dancing with the village girls, who kept time to our singing. Later we beard the whistling or the balls, for our Basques are brave nnd die well. Only, adieu the harvests, the apple trees and the life of tho poor world. We fought all day, and we fought for three years. At a given time all the roads were broken up and occupied by men of the same countrj-, who had "no thought but to cut each other's throats. " Yon Kb-iW the history of (be blockade of Bilbao that the Carli'ls pressed like squeezers. It was necessary to succor tho city, and between Saint Sebastian and Bilbao tho soldiers ot Don Carlos held the defiles, repulsed the assaults, and lieat lack with the bayonet the columns of troops that, were launched against them. The chief Carllst who commanded this sldo was Zucarraga.a hero, monsieur. He was an officer of tiie army who had sent his sword to tho government at Sladrid, saying: "Give it to another that It may combatme. That which I wearhencefortii I will hold from my king." He was liirty years ot age, handsome, tallt suiwrb. He held the mountain there, and never slackened his grip. They sent their best troops against him, and each day fresh troops. We saw the poor fellows returning limping, decimated, their of ficers carried on bloody mule-lltters.shak lng their heads nnd saying: "It Is for Spain that one kills Spain." This Zucarraga's reputation increased at each misfortune of the national army. People said, "This Is Thomas Zumalacar regule came back to life," the paladin or the other Carlist war In tho olden time. Everything made Zucarraga a hero of ro mance. He was a general as popular as the Cld. The general who commanded at Hemani and sent out his poor soldiers against the defiles defended by Zucarraga was trans ported with rage. He bad promised him self to force a passage, to break through those people in a hand-to-hand struggle in order to pierce Bilbao, but each attack was a defeat, each assault a half rout. The harassed troops returned with heavy feet and lowered heads, leav'lng their dead along tho road. One evening upon the square ot Ayunta. mlcnto, as the General watched his sol diers slowly, qeietiy, dejectedly return ing to their quarters, while In the distance could be heard the grumbling of Zucarraga's cannon, and their smoko could be seen mounting at the foot of the valley, he .clenched hl&Jiands, and said with flashing eye, "Oh, this Zucarraga; this Zucarraga; .this miserable Zucarraga! I would give "my skin for his, and a fortune to the man who would till binil" He was beside himself and weeping to see his regiments melting like snow in the de files. It seemed to him that all the brave men sowed by the waj-slde were his- chil dren. And who was It? Zucarraga the Basques ot Zucarraga the Carlists. The old Garndo had not finished speak ing, when, before him. In this square filled with troops, upon which the setting sun was casting Its parting rays, appeared a large, handsome youth, who looked him In the eye, nnd said brusquely: "Will you give me what I ask If I will kill Zucarraga?" "Who are your' asked Garrldo. "I am Juan Araquil, a native of this coun try atiian not afraid of dying, but who has sworn to bo rich." The general examined the man from bead to foot. Tou are AT51n Gulpuzcoa. Why have you not Joined the army of Don Carlos?" "Because I care for nothing In the world except the woman I love?" "A fiancee?" "Ah, It she were ray fiancee! No. She Is the daughter ot a farmer too rich for me, who am poor, and wish money to marry ber." Araquil was well known In the country. We all knew his history and his love for the daughter ot Father Chegaray, a ' ,,Mai 7, won't yon-join in the game?" "Exonso me, ilatildy Victoria; I'm on my way to Sunday-school. ike Saubfith." good Qulpuzcoan laborer, who owned four of live farms and orchards, whoso trees cracked under apples that made a elder you ought to have seen. I bavo never tasted your French cider, ot which I have heard much. Cut It Is notso,good as our Gulpuzcoa cider. It is not I who say it. The 1'ather Chegaray, lived between HernanI and tho fortSanta Barbara, which you have seen coming from Saint So bastlan. Ot his daughter, Pepa, old Chegaray was na proud as an Andalouse of ber Jewels. He was very watchful when hu took her to .vespers .or a. village dance, and It -was hererone often became engaged -without consulting the parents. In lauglii eg, in dancing. It is quickly dose. The heart Is struck, and tho life give Itself.- There was in the valler at Loyola, very near here, a great, handsome devil, who fluttered around the prelty girls nnd had all tho qualities that please women, but none which." please "parents. It was this Araquil who came to tell his ambitions to old Gun. Garrldo. This youth was gay, al ways ready for goineUilug- foolhardy, whether the proposal be to put a hole In his skin or to break his neck. He was strong, agile, first in games, wrestling and In im provlsed bull fights, -where he showed the skill of a professional. Added lo these gifts were the air ot a caval!er,-a freshly shaven chin, the figure or a Hercules and tho band of a woman. He hadn't a sou, but lived from day to clay on prizes won at tennis or bels made with the"matadorea. One day at St. SelKistlan, when the matadorcs could not overcome a bull a great, furious, black beast, flecked with red lather.and brealhingJ roam and blood Juan Araquil began to hiss. Tho entire circus, spectators and ae lors, crlcil out:"Well then, In the arena with you, in the arena!" Juan did notfticsltate monsieur. He arose, leaped Into the ring, and taking from the espada a short-handled sword, held it like this and planted himself in front of the bull. He looked It iu the-eye, laughed In its nostrils, and then, -with a swift forward thrust, a great mass went liouin, barn, and the bull fell. AraqulL laughing, turned to thevmatadores and saldr Tou see, you others, It was not difficult." Hut this was not all. These men were furious with rage when they heard the bravos for the feat and tho hisses for them selves. They surrounded hlni to demand an accounting for his audacity. Araquil looked at this circle ot enraged matadorcs, and then with a sudden impulse leaped over the he-ad ot the man In front of him nnd re gahied the spectators' level. That even ing be and one of these men fought behind tho circus with knives, nnd Juan fell with a weapon in his breast. He -was in bed fifteen days and was then ready tokillan other bull, and a niatadore with him, if necessary. He had some remedies for wounds, for he did a little of everything and f requen ted the houses of people who made pomades and drugs from mountain herbs. Ho had made f orTiimself an esen-rrora some wicked plant, aconite oI know not what, that ho wore in a ring on bis finger. -Ho said that a man ought to be master of his life, able to finish it when ho would. fA knife might be taken away from you, but a ring, no," nnd with the gesture of tho hand to his lips "one lsMree." He was a man, this Araquil. One day thi hand'omo youth of twenty-five, who had been loved without loving anybody, en countered In a village dance In Loyola, on Easter Monday, a young girl,, whom he Invited like the others, to bo bis partner. It wasTepa Chegaray. A waltz and a guitar turn tho head of tho young in my opinion. Neither Juan nor Pepa could forget this meeting In the open air, the niuIc accompanied by smiles and the song more intoxicating than cider. Since this Easter Monday Juan Araquil, ordinarily so gay, bad become savage, very gloomy, speaking seldom, arid Father Chegaray down there smiled no longer. It was this devil of love which was pass ing that way. Yes, It was lo.-e, complete, absolute and as rapid as a clap of thunder There Is love like that. She drcameclof him; he thought of no one but her. He was as sad as a garden without flowers; love made him surly. Why? Because he hadn't asou In bis pocket and Tepa was rich, and, above all, because that cast-iron Father Tiburciu had said his daughter should never marry a man who had no fortune except bis ten nis racquet. "But," said Araquil, aVlast, to -Father Chegaray, 'Te-pa loves me; sho has told me so." "She has told me -so also," said the father. "I I adore her I am madly In love. I will kill myself If jrou -do not give her to me. What rauH I do-to have her for my wife?" "That which I have done myself," said the farmer. "Work and bring to the home something to support the children. I have not struggled all my life to throw my money and toy daughter away on an idle fellow. When you can say to mc tbar-j-ou have amassed a little fortune, and that you can furnish your part ot tho bread and 6alt, you can have Tcpa, since she loves you." "And tho amount that will be necessary how much?" asked Juan. "Two thousand douros." This would bo 10,000 francs of our money. "Two thousand daurqs!" said Araquil, very white. "Where can it be round?" "ffouncLlt In the earth. Search," re sponded the farmer.. Tlburclo was not ob, who, having spo ken, goes back on his-word. No; Araquil had not killed bimjself.asjis had threatened the old man, nor had he-dug. to amass that sura. Tcpa, brave girl, did not disoey ber father, but, very mucb in love with the handaomo fellow, resigned herself to wait until Juan gamed the exacted dot. Only In their meetings and conversations before the old man she did not conceal from Araquil that she had for blm those sentiments which unite two beings to the last sacrament. And Eh had sworn to blm on the prayer book of her dead mother that she would never belong to another If not to him. Such a pledge, glvenby a creature as beau tiful as a star in heaven, ought to hive given heart to the audacious. Juan said to him self: "Very well, I will havo the two.thou sand douros "I don't know how I will get them, but I will have them J While he rolled this project In his brain. this is how he worked. He played against the champion of Tolosa at tennis and lost 2 :f5fci by one point. .The stakes were large. What a commoncemtnt of fortun lost by on polot, by one pointl ne tore his hair and beat hU brow In his wild rago. He had to have these two thousand douros, and he repealed to himself what Pepa had said to him: "Life with you orwith no one, Araquil; but I will obey my father living, and dead I -will respect his wishes." Poor Juan had begun to think or going fas away. He bad been told that on the Plata, iu Soulb,-Americn, some of tbo Basques who had gone there had made a fortune. Yes. monsleurit appears that the tennis playtrs of our country . in Buenos Ayres could pick up baudfuls'iof pesetas. Tbnti prelty house you see on the right ou th return to St. Sebastian belongs to a young man from Uernunl, who thus made a Ilttlei fortune In the new southern world. If tho idea of not meeting Pepa, of no longer see ing her al a distance at mass, vespers r a bull fight, or even at the window as by passed the farm, had not demented him, h would certainly ha"ve gone away. Yc, as a trapper, a gold seeker or an adventurer h would have searclie-l something to do, for snlce the old man had said "Search," i was belter to do that than to stay. Thus it was with hltn when the last war broke out and what I have related look place before Bilbao. To return then to our story. Gen. Garrido, who was greatly dis couraged, aw planted before him this great dare-devil fellow, who in two words told his history. While the old soldier who was suffering such dereat rrom tho Carlists knotted bis brows, Juan Araquil added: "If the life of Zucarraga Is worth a rortune, as you say, I will have It." "The life ot Zucarraga is worth more than a fortune," said Garrldo. "It Is worth tho existence of thousands of my poor children. Zucarraga Is the key to Bilbao, the center of resistance, and It Is nothing but a continual slaughter. I have no orders to give you, for you arc not) a spldler, but it you do what you say you will, recall the promise that I have made." "Very well, Slonsltur le General, I shall w back soon." - . - The old general shrugged his shoulders ami asked himself for a moment If tba man wero not a spy. Araquil himself thought of bur ono, thing: that the life of Zucarraga was a fortune. Tills he would not have wanted except that It gave him Pepa. He dlsap" pearcd from Hcrnani and no one beard of him for several dayK. Tho general said tho man was a fool, and planned an at tack at night to surprise Zucarraga and" take the pass by the sense of feellcg, th only light to be that of the firearms. During this time Araquil had louDgtd around the lntrenchments of the Carlists, sleeping under the stars wherever he chanced to be. He had In his pocket his knife, this knife which hejenew how to plant at a distance, like a ball in a target. He was' watching for an opportunity to approach Zucarraga and rid old Garrldo ot the chief Carllst, In the meantime argu ing with himself what is the difference, war with the cannon or war with the knife, they are the same thing? It is right to kill one wbo sacrifices life. One night as he approached too close to the farmhouse, halt In ruins, where Zu carraga slept, the ball of a sentinel whistled so clou to bis head that it took away a little ot the flesh of bis left ear. He took no notice of it, and had but one regret, and that was that the Carllst sentinel hsd seen him. Without that he would have been able to scale the wall and spring to the side of Zucarraga. It was all to begin over again. Very well, he began again the next day, and this was the ery day Garrldo had chosen for tho night attack. Juan Ara quil -was sleeping thafulght In a trench with no lietter bed than that of abeast, decided this time to reach Zucarraga, cost what it might, when Garrido's men made their attack. The firing at first as tonished Araquil, then gave him pleasure. Since they were fighting, Zucarraga ought to come out, led by the shots of bis sol diers, and if Juan could glide up to bun IfwouMbe wclldone the knife In the heart f not la. ambush, but in open battle. Ahl the blood of Zucarraga was worth a ror tune. Father Chegaray would have two thousand douros; he was going to have them, and so much the worse for the Carl ists. They fought bravely that night. Gar rido's soldiers were enraged, and mounted to the assaults of the entrenchments with rixed bayonets, pressing on the Carlists1, whom they believed taken by surprise. In the blackness of the night they strangled and cut each other's throats. Sabres thrust holes In the chests, revolvers crushed the heads as they assassinated each other without seeing. A between Spaniards, I ask you if that was not a pity? It lasted u long time. At daybreak tin soldiers of the army were in retreat ones more, the poor devils having lost many of their number to arrive- there. A useless attack. A night of bloodshed added oivt donwfall to another. The-old Garrldo was going to cry again with rage down yonder. The Carhsts, on the contrary, after havine; fought all night, saluted the break of day with cries of Joy. 'Karri! Harrl!" Sud denly they-stopped nnd there was a dead silence. They were carrj-lng by the lnvinci" ble Zucarraga, wounded in the leg, as thsy could see; him whoso voice they had heard all night crying out: "Forward! Courage! Let us resist, my chlldrenl" To the front of the dismantled house In which ho slept ordinarily, the prisoners of the other army, of whom there had been many made during the night, saw this magnifi cent and brave fellow carried. He was as white as Ills' cap ilnd could no longer.stacd, but was supported until sorucot his soldiers could bring a bench, upon which he was seated with his leg extended. Araquil looked on. He had been taken with Garrido's soldiers, who were all under guard of Carlists wttb loaded guns. His knife, his famous knife, had not served blm. Zucarraga was surrounded by hU officers, who were greatly agitated. Some ot them were upon their knees looking at the wound. One ot them called for th surgeon. Continued in Next Sunday's Times. Better Tlntii Heading. Poctlcus Have you read Shakespearo'i "Love's Labor Lost?" Cynicus No; but I've taken a girt to th theater and had ber talk to theman next hei aU through the show. New York Herald. .' I ain't no heathen. I don't dessioat USt A s XJi'Sy jfofg- "?' '? v&- iS. -r ,