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godtod by a Spell
Ho turn,-d aside, and remained silent
for some seconds. When next he spoke
It was in altered tones. "Tell me what
you want V N it btonej V"
"Money!" she cried. "M ney fmm
you! l.iM>k here,* 1 and she tore open s
lady's reticule that lay upon the table;
"there are tin 1 two hundred dollars yon
k"ui me enclosed in your farewell letter;
look what I do with them!" Ami she
tore then Into shreds, "Hen ire the
presents yon gave me; see whal I do
with them!" Ami she took out some
trinkets, and crushed them beneath her
feet. "Now will you ask me it' it i*
money I want of youV"
Her fare was something awful to look
upon in its deathly pallor, and convul
sive Quivering, and those glaring eyes.
That man, with all hi.s iron will, quailed
"What do you want, then?"
"Respect, and I will have it. T.et me
refresh your memory. You found me in
a traveling show. I was a mere child
then, possessed of a strange power over
certain minds- a power that to an am
bitioas, unscrupulous schemer like your*
fell", might one day prove invaluable.
You saw DO way to use me at the time,
but fOU w ere loth to lose sight of so nd
mlrabls an Instrument. You wormed
yourself leto my confidence, and pot
from me Ji.it I was discontented with
a mode of life which gave me but a
bare living, and tilled the pockets of my
employer. I was vain of the attention of
a fine gentleman—-- 1 who had been
brought up in a back alley. Yon told
my father that if he liked to go to Bury
St. Edmund's you would help to set
him up in business thai you would rec
ommend him custom, as you possessed
some Influence in the neighborhood."
"Have you ever had reason to repent
taking my counsel V"
"My father hit upon n more easy find
profitable trade than shoetnaklng," she
went on, not heeding the interruption.
"Had we depended upon your promises,
we might have starved. You thought no
more of them, ami years elapsed after
our parting at Spalding before I ever
heard anything of you again. One day
we met in the streets of Bury. Although
jears had elapsed, we recognised each
other Instantly. You expressed great
delight at the meeting, which certainly
was not feigned, as it gave into your
bauds the exact tool you required, to
fashion fine of the most diabolical
Schemes that was ever hatched in hu
man brains. But before you dared to
propose it to me it was necessary to
make me your slave. When you last
bhv me I was an ungainly looking, ugly
girl; now 1 was a well grown woman,
with good looks enough to have secured
several offers of advantageous marriage.
I?ut I was proud, ambitious; the life
I led, and all its associations, were hate
ful to me—l longed to be free of them
all, and I waited *i n■! waited. You, with
jour fiendish cunning, divined my secret;
professed love for me. Blinded by am
bition and vanity, I believed you—be-
Uered that you, the fine gentleman,
would marry me. Hut at that time you
simply lied, to serve your own purpose.
You were very cautious, too—you bound
me down to breathe no word of your
secrets to my father. You said, once
in his power, you would never be free
from his extortions."
"Silence!" thundered Rodwell, spring-
Ing to his feet.
"Well, enough of that for the pres
ent. After the girl's Sight, you left
Hury, and I did not see you again for a
long, long time. At last, you returned.
So you have got her into your dutch
hi:. I!in. What is it to be this time —mur-
der or marriage?"
Sow niv heart leaped! Could it be
Chir:i of whom she was ipeakiug? The
portrait I had seen in his namesake's
cottage—the likeness to her, forgotten
Until that moment, flashed upon ma with
the force of conviction. Oh, how eager
ly, how breathlessly, I listened now!
"ll'pw dare you speak such words to
me in the presence of a stranger." lie
cried. "You are venoniicjs enough to en
deavor to establish such a charge, against
"I believe you to be capable of nny
crime, John Kodwell," shs answered, dis
dainfully: "although you would give the
preference to that which compromised
"Suppose I admit that 1 intend to mar
ry her. what then?" he demanded, bold
ly. "You will seek to thwart me?"
"I keep my intentions to myself. But
I had forgotten; perhaps you are not
aware you have a rival?" she said, mock
ingly. "You would not imagine Mr.
OantOßl la the character of a gay de
ceiver; yet, 1 can assure you that, dur
ing a short absence from his loving wife,
he was funking violent love to Miss
Clara as a single gentleman, aud not
, I believe."
"This is no subject to jest upon." he
Baid, haughtily. "Do you mean to say
tlnit this fellow has dared "
He advanced menacingly towards me;
but, weak ns I was. I rose up, and con
fronted him. I felt no fear of him, al
though I was too agitated to speak— too
overwhelmed by the thoughts of my
worse than powerless position.
He paused: then, with a look of su
preme SCOra, he turned upon his heel and
addressed Judith. "Such an object is too
contemptible to excite anger. However,
I presume that for the future you will
restrain iv him such roving propensi
more especially after the confidence
you have chosen to repose in hint this
evening. Now let me understand. Do
we part friends or foea?"
"I pledge myself to nothing either
way. For yean you used me as a tool.
Now wo have the reverse of the medal;
you nre utterly within my power, and I
will use that power to minister solely
to my own interest, or caprice, as the
ruse may be, without one thought of you.
You khould have remembered that those
who love intensely, hate intensely."
He regarded her for I moment with a
disconcerted look, which she met by one
o! determination. He tried to laugh off
the effect of her words, but the lough
was n woful failure. "What a fool I
I must be to stand listening to the words
Of n mad woman!" he cried.
Me was leaving the room when she
called to him. "Where tiro you going?
[f you are going to her room, 1 have the
key. I will a< mpnny you."
He looked more aghast than over; tlion
he broke out Into strong anathemas
airainst Montgomery, agalnnt whom he
vowed the most deadly vengeance.
"Montgomery has served me well, nnd
I dare you to harm him in iiny way,"
she said, in the same tone of calm supe
riority. "Do so, John Rodwell, ami be-
lore two hours your uncle shall know
all that I can tell him. Do not fall
into a passion. . You have fallen into
the trap, and you will never get out of
it by heating yourself against the bars!"
lie muttered and laughed scornfully,
but he was conquered—cowed. Her
triumph was complete. Presently they
left the room together, Judith double
locking the door behind her.
I saw no more of Judith or Mr. l!od-
Well. As BOOH as they were gone I
crawled back to bed, utterly prostrated
both mentally and bodily. Soon after
wards the nurse returned, and after giv
ing me my medicine, and home beef tea.
wrapped herself up in a blanket, ami
putting the key of the door under her
head, as was her custom, lay down upon
the bofa to take her night's repose.
TloTir after hour I lay tossing about
in n sleepless, ment&l agony. Clara was
undoubtedly in the same house with me,
exposed to heaven knows what Bufferings
and persecutions; and yet, for any hope
of seeing or succoring her, I might as
well have been hundreds (if miles away.
At last, unable to lie there any longer,
I rose and dressed myself. A tire was
still smoldering in the huge prate, and a
night light was burning upon the table.
The nurse, by her hard, regular breath
ing, seemed to be in a deep sleep, and I
moved about cautiously. Her face was
turned to the open side of the sofn. I
crept behind it and inserted my trem
bling hand beneath the pillow, feeling
further and further until my fingers
touched a hard substance —it was the
ward key. Little by little I drew it
away—she still sleeping profoundly—
fitted it noiselessly in the look, turned it,
and the next moment found myself in a
large, dark hall, fit the foot of an im
mensely wide staircase.
I closed the door softly behind me.
A long window, thnt stretched upwards
from the first landing, admitted suffi
cient light to guide me, and, with a
noiseless Step, 1 crept up the stairs. At
the top of the first flight was a long
corridor, on each side of which, ns far
as I could see, for the further end was
lost in obscurity, was a line of doors.
Now came my difficulty; the slightest
error would not only defeat my present
object, but consign me to a stricter sur
veillance than over, ami perhaps bring
about Clara's removal to some spot to
which 1 could obtain no clue. Suppose,
by chnnce. that I should go to Judith's
chamber door? 1 shuddered ut the
I stood for some moments at the head
of the corridor, irresolute what to do,
listening eagerly for the slightest sound
that might guide me. Hut the silence
wa.s deathlike. Down the corridor I
moved noiselessly. Through the crev
ices of the third door came faint streaks
of light and faint muffled sounds, either
moans or a low, monotonous singing —
the walls and doors were so thick, that
it was difficult to distinguish which.
I listened more eagerly, until I fan
cied I could distinguish Clara's voice.
1 paused for a moment, and then, with
my heart beating in my throat, tapped
gently. Breathlessly I waited for sev
eral seconds. No answer. Then I tap
ped a second time a little loader. A
sound of moving, and then a soft, trem
ulous voice, that thrilled my very soul,
asked faintly, "Who is there?"
I could doubt uo longer. The key
was in the lock outside. 1 tried it —turn-
ed it- -opened the door— met her whom
I ■ought—heard n low cry of astonish
iiifiit. and my darling was in my arms.
At that moment I fancied that 1 heard
a sound like tlu? click of n lock in the
corridor. I suddenly turned, disengaged
myself from her arms, and looked out.
All seemed precisely as I had left it —
no light, uo ohjtvt, DO pound; it must
have been fancy. 1 gently drew the
key from the outside, anil, reversing it,
looked the door from within. We were
alone — no one could surprise us now.
To her eager questions, how had I dis
covered her, I scarcely knew what t«i
arswer; for, the first excitement of our
meeting over, I repented thnt I had erei
■Ought it. C'oiild 1 have freed her from
her enemies then, and then only, would
it have been justifiable? As it wan, I
was feeding my own hopeless passion,
and engaging more and more closely the
affections of a simple-hearted girl, be
neath th« very roof thnt sheltered the
implacable woman who claimed as her
huxbaud. Oh, nil this was weak, criin
iually weak; aud I felt it so, uud yit 1
toa« not the courage to end It honestly.
After a while I aeked her what hap
pened upon the fatal nijtht that we lost
her —how she came to be separated from
Bhe told nic thnt n mil of people had
suddenly ImpeMml her forward, and thnt
by the time she could turn her head to
look round, .s|,,, r, mi ml tlnit she had been
cairied out. of sight of Mrs. Wilson.
At thnt moment a young innn. evident
ly the saino who had delivered BJontgom
• •rv's incssMw'e to me, tOQCh«d her upon
the shoulder, un.l said that I was wait-
Ing for her in v cab n little way down
"He wits hurrying me nlong nil the
time he was •peaking," sho went .,;
"mid I was too bewildered by my situa
tion to offer the slightest resistance.
There was a Iftng lino of cabs and onr
riagee; the one lie pointed oat as ours
was the last of |l, and stood up an un
frequented side street He opened the
I <i<«<v and pushed me In; at the same
moment a strange man jumped In past
me, the door was slammed, the windows
rained, and the horses were off at full
speed, before I could recover my breath."
Prom her description, I discovered
that this man who accompanied her
"I am such a poor, nerveless crea*
tvn —so utterly destitute of .ill pres
ence of mind—that I could only crouch
in a corner and soli with terror."
After a drive, which seemed to her
excited fancy to endure for hours, they
stopped before a tall iron gate, which,
after a time, was opened from within.
They drove over a long, winding walk,
nt the <Mid of which was a large, gloomy I
lookiug house, before which the vehicle
stopped. Then, assisted by Montgomery,
she was Buffered to Blight. A female
servant conducted her to the apartment
in which I found her.
"She was very kind to me," Clara
went on, "and assured me over and over
again that no harm would ho done to
me — that I was among friends, and
whatever I liked to ask for 1 should :
have, but thai she could not permit me to
have that room. But no entreaty could
wring from her who her employer was.
1 hare been here now nearly a fortnight I
—everything I have expressed a wish for
has been given me, and 1 was growing
quite reconciled to my position, for I
can be content in any place where 1 am I
treated kindly; hut this evening, just as
1 was watching the great red sun sink j
behind the trees, l heard my door open,
and upon looking round I saw—- —■"
She buried her face in her hands,
seemingly unable to proceed, I knew
perfectly well whom she had seen, al
though I asked the question.
"Those terrible eyes!" she answered,
sinking her voice to a whisper.
By the aid of words I had heard spok
en a few hours before. I began to un
derstand it all now, but only dimly. I
asked her what she meant.
"Ah, I have never told you!" shet said,
with a shudder. "I will tell you now,
that you may understand my fearful po
sition, and that you may take me awny
She knelt down nt my feet, and nestled
close to me as she told her story, .speak
ing iv a subdued voice.
"I was brought up by a dear, kind ■
grandfather, the only friend I ever knew;
for my father, who wan an officer, died
in India, when I was very young, and
my mother followed him within less than
a year. She was my grandfather's young
est and favorite daughter; and, after
her death, he seemed to have trans
ferred all his affection to me, for he lit
erally doted upon me. I had a cousin
who was much —-much older than my
self, but, like myself, an orphan. I
never liked him —or, I should rather say,
I was always frightened of him; yet ev
erybody called him handsome, especially
all the women. Until my mother brought
me home, n little girl, from India, he was
the favorite nephew, and was supposed
to be the heir to all his grandfather's
wealth. John Rodwell hated me, and
showed it, too, and that turned the old
gentleman against him. When 1 was
about thirteen, grandfather made a fresh
will; and as he was never content to
have me a moment from his side, it was
dictated to the lawyer in my presence.
In it I was named heiress to all he pos
sessed, with the exception of an annu
ity to John, and the former will, by
which John would have inherited all his
wealth, was destroyed. I was very much
troubled when I heard this; and I told
grandfather bow much happier I should
bo if he would let things remain as they
were, as 1 was certain Cousin John
would know better what to do with the
money than I should.
"Well, in some way or other Cousin
John found out that a new will had
been made, and that I was present at
the time. Once or twice he put some
questions to me in an off-hand kind of
manner as to its contents; but mindful
of the strict injunctions I had received,
I was very Cautious, and finding that ho
could elicit nothing from me, he gave up
the attempt. Hut he became a more
frequent visitor to us. He also took
great pains to ingratiate himself into
grandfather's graces, and uot uu
•To h« continued.*
"Yes," said the stranger, "I used to
edit a paper in the West, but I got
my right hand caught in the press one ■
day and it crippled my finger* so I
had to give up."
"Couldn't write any more, eh?"
"Oh, that wasn't it, but one of them
was my trigger finger."—Philadelphia
"Julia, what has been in your mind
most since your marriage?"
"The* fact that I was given away as
part of the ceremony."
Philanthropist -Hut, my dear man.
why,do you beg? ,
Beggar—Because I'm one of theso
men that must keep busy.
HE CAME TO VISIT. I
Mr. Stoggin likes to spend his sum
mer vacation in some quiet country
place with his wife and children,
where he can get good country fare
and decent boating and flshing. The)
farm of his cousin, says the Chicago
News, Just answers that description.
It naturally follows that Mr. Stoggin.
and his family have been ho>plUil>!y
! entertained there for several seasons.
Of course the cousin was cordially in
vited to return those visits, nnd when
Mr. Stoggln received word that his
cousin waa coming he wna really
"We must give him a good time."
he said to Mrs. Stoggln. "You know
be told us thnt he hadu't been In Chi
cago for fifteen years, and then only
stayed over night. I guess he'll want
to see about all there is to be seen.
And," he added, "by the time he gets
through he'll know more about Chi
cago than I do myself after a lifetime
In the course of a few days the
cousin arrived nnd received a hearty
welcome. lie came on the evening
train, and wns conducted to Btoggin'B
house, where a good dinner was
upread, with candles on the tables nnd
the aolld silver in use. The evening
passed pleasantly. Pef.ore they retired
Stoggln touched on the subject of en
"Now, Jim," lie said, "what do you
think you'd like to do to-morrow?"
"We-ell, I dunno, exactly," said the
"I've got to be at the office myself,"
Continued Stoggln, "but Bessie, her.-,
will be glad to take you round. What
do you say to the stock yards?"
The cousin smiled. "I came here
for a change," he remarked, simply.
"How about the museum?'•
"I don't know as I care about it,"
said the cousin.
"The Art Institute, then," suggest* d
Stoggin. "How would that strike
"Pictures, ain't it?"
"Yes. They've got some good ones.' 1
"Well, no, unless Bessie wants to
"No. I wouldn't hnve you go on my
account," said Mrs. Stoggln.
"We want to give you a good time."
•aid Stoggin. "Now. I don't suppose
you have seen the public library
"See here, Thomas," said the cousin,
"if you want me to have a good tiny,
don't you entertain me. I never was
much of a hand at sightseeing. It
tuckers me clear out. I didn't come
to Chicago to see the sights; I come
to have a visit with you."
He stayed a week, and except that
t:e went down town one afternoon
nnd bought some toys for the children,
he hardly stirred out of the house.
Mrs. Stoggin declares that it was a
gre.it disappointment to her not to vet
n chance to see something of the city.
HAS THE SPIDER'B TRAITS.
Carious Plnnt Found in the Cape Negro
Colony in Africa.
One of the most curious plants in
Hie world is one described by trnvel
srs recently returned from the Cape
negro colony, a little known region of
Africa, and culled the spider plant.
Vhese travelers often heard from the
natives of a plant that was part
spider and that, growing, threw its
legs about in continual struggles to
escape. It was the good fortune of
Dr. Welwitsch to discover the origin
af the legend. Strolling along through
a wind-swept tableland country, he
fame upon a plant that rested low up
:>u the ground, but had two enormous
leaves that had twisted about in the
wind like serpents —in fact, it looked,
<s the natives had said, like a gigan
Its stem was four fee-t across nnd
but a foot high. It had but two leaves
In reality, that were six or eight feet
lung, and split up by the wind so that
they resembled ribbons. This is prob
ably the most extraordinary tree,
known. It grows for nearly if not
quite a century, but never upward
beyond about a foot, simply expanding
until it reaches the diameter given,
looking in its adult state like a singu
lar stool on the plnin from ten to elgh
teem feet in circumference.
When the wind came rushing in
from the sea, lifting the curious ribbon
like leaves and tossing them about, it
almost seemed to the discoverer that
the strange plant had suddenly bo
come imbued with life and was strug
gling to escape. When a description
and picture of the plant was sent to
England it was, like many other dis
coveries, discredited, but soon the plant
Itself was recejved and now Wei wit
schla mirabllis is well known to bot
(. h.uiniiiK Color.
Nell —Did you ever see such a lob»
■ter as Mr. Timmld?
Belle—Well, he was more like a
chameleon last night. He always was
green at love-making, you know, but
last night he got red and proposed to
me; the very next minute he was blue.
—Philadelphia Public Ledger.
A successful man roots while his un
succeßsfui brother stands around $r*t,
NEEDLE AND SPOOL OF THREAD.
The Ilaala Upon Which Frank I mice
Built a Fortune.
When Frank Parinelee, founder of a
j Chicago transportation line and a man
of much wealth, died in Chicago the
other day there
was found in the
pocket of the coat
which he had last
worn thread and a
needle. lie had car
ried them so
long and success
ful career and they
were buried with
him. To them he
i-ra>-k takmelee. often attributed his
, success and he nevef wearied of tell
ing the story of his "needle and thread
Seventy-six years ago, when Panne
■ lee was 12 years old and living with
his parents at Byron, N. V., he decided
to leave home. The family was poor
and the boy considered himself old
enough to make his own livelihood.
His parents granted their consent re
luctantly, and the son arranged for a
"job" in a stage coach arranged Erie,
lob" in a stage coach office at Erie,
a. He was not concerned as to the
manner in which he was to reach that
point because his future employers
were willing to transport him most of
! the way and he could walk if he had
to. The day of his departure his moth
er bade him good-by in this fashion:
"Franklin, I wish your father was
able to give you a little money to start
I on, but you know he hasn't got it. Now
, then, Franklin, your mother, who
thinks a good deal more of you than
you ever imagined, is going to give
you a bit of advice and something else
with it, and she wants you to treasure
both of them.
"Above all things I want you lA
take a great deal of pride in yourself
and just make up your mind that you
are going to be successful. And you
must always keep neat and clean and
keep your clothes in good repair and
don't let the buttons come off or else
I you won't respect yourself. Now then,
I'm going to give you a reminder."
The mother held out her hand and
; young Parmelee reached for the "re
! minder." It was a spoo,, of black
thread with a needle stuck through It
The boy kissed his mother and put
the thread and needle In his carpet
bap. Then he started out for Erie.
He afterward went to work on th«
lakes, saved money, sr-iirted a street
car line In Chicago ana later engaged
In the express buslneji«.
Latest Phase of SeitmUtfc Agriculture
The many uses to which the motor
has been put are illustrated in the ac
companying photograph, which shows
| the Ivel agricultural motor, an English
i invention, at work. This machine is
capable of hauling aoy kind of two or
I three furrow plow, or, in fact, any
agricultural implement. It can also be
used for driving all kinds of machinery
usually driven by steam or gas en
gines, and when not at work in the
field it can be doing cartage work.
In a plowing experiment the Ivel
motor, hauling a three furrow plow,
*—^-^^"^y^v^iiij | '|||| 'ii"l ' '
THE IVEL AGRICULTURAL MOTOR.
plowed six acres one rood nine polos
of land of very hard surface to ;in
average depth of seven Inches in eight
hours fifty-four minutes, and the cost
worked out at a rate of 5 shillings per
acre, which included everything.
Comparing these figures with the
cost of doing the same work in the or
dinary old-fashioned way, it will be
realized that by using the Ivel motor
you can get the work done very much
cheaper and quicker.
Machines have already been export
ed to Portugal, Egypt and South Af
rica, as in these countries the superi
ority of mechanical power over horses
and*cattle is appreciated.
It Was the lilack Hand.
"Charley had a dreadful time last
night," said young Mrs. Torkins. "He
•ays he was a victim of the 'Black
"You don't say so!" exclaimed th«
"Yes. He came home without a
cent. I don't quite understand the par
ticulars as he explained them. But
they pulled a deadly weapon on him
that Is known as a club flush."—Wash
It is almost impossible to believe *
there was on^e a dtiy when Fatber
thought bo much of Mother he didu't
eaie a rap If she could cook or not,