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file Richmond Palladium, Saturday, January 19, 1S07.
The Mystery of Agatha -Webb. By Anna Katharine Green, Author of Tbo Leavenworth Case," "Lost Xu's lone," "Hand Copyright, 1900, by Anna Katharine Grata. lour secrets, IT you hare sucn, might better be Intrusted to your fa ther. Yon hare no better friend." And there he stopped with a horrified, de spairing feeling of inward weakness. If Frederick had committed a crime, fnz- fc. Turning: partially aside, be fin- I gered the papers on the desk before which he was standing. A. large en velope, containing some legal docu ment, lay before him. Taking it up mechanically, he opened it. Frederick as mechanically watched him. "I know," said the latter, "that I tare no better friend. You hare been too good, too Indulgent What is it, father? You change color, look ilL What is there In that paper?" Mr Sutherland straightened himself; there was a great reserve of strength In this broken down man yet. Fixing Frederick with a gaze more penetrat ing: than any he bad jet bestowed upon him, he folded his hands behind him, with the document held tightly between them, and remarked: "When you borrowed that money from me, you did it like a man who expected to repay it. Why? Whence did you expect to receive the money with which to repay me? Answer, Frederick; this Is your hour for con fession." Frederick turned so pale his father dropped his eyes In mercy. "Confess?" he repeated. "What should I confess? My Bins? They are too many. As for that money, I J i oped to pay it as any son might hope to pay his father for money advanced to pay a gamblers debt. I said I meant to work. My first money earn ed 6hall be offered to you. I" "Well? Well?" Ills father was hold ing the document he had just read opened out before his eyes. "Didn't you expect this?" he asked. "Didn't you know that that poor wom an, that wretchedly murdered, most unhappy woman, whose death the whole town mourns, bad made you her heir? That by the terms of this docu ment seen by me here and now for the first time, I am made executor and you the inheritor of the 100,000 or La ore left by Agatha Webb?" "Noi" cried Frederick, his eyes glued to the paper, his whole face and form expressing something more akin to ter ror than surprise. "Has she done this? Why should she? I hardly knew her." "No, you hardly knew her. And she? She hardly knew you; if she had, she would have abhorred rather than en riched you. Frederick, I had rather you were dead than stand before me the Inheritor of Philemon and Agatha Webb's hard earned savings." "You are right; it would be better," murmured Frederick, hardly heeding what he said. Then, as he encounter ed his father's eye resting upon him with Implacable scrutiny, he added In weak repetition: "But -why give her money to me? What was I to her that she should will me her fortune?" The father's finger trembled to a cer tain line in the document, which seem ed to offer some explanation of this, but Frederick did not follow it. lie bad seen that his father was expecting a reply to the question he had pre viously put. and he was casting about la bis mind how to answer it. "When did you know of this will?" Mr. Sutherland now repeated. "For know of It you did before you came to me for money." , Frederick summoned up his full courage and confronted his father res blutely. "No," said he, "I did not know of it. It is as much of a surprise to me as It is to you." lie lied. Mr. Sutherland knew that he did and Frederick knew that he knew it. A shadow fell between them, which the older, with that unspeakable fear upon him roused by Sweetwater's whispered suspicion, dared no longer to attempt to lift After a few minutes, in which Fred erick seemed to see his father age be fore his eyes, Mr. Sutherland coldly remarked: "Dr. Talbot must know of this wilL It has been sent here to me from Bos ton by a lawyer who drew it up two years ago. The coroner may not as yet have heard of it. Will you accom pany me to his office tomorrow? I ehould like to have him see that we wish to be open with him in an affair tot such importance." "I will accompany you gladly," said Frederick, and. seeing that his father neither wished nor was able to say anything further, he bowed with dis tant ceremony as to a stranger and quietly withdrew. But when the door had closed between them and only the memory of his father's changed coun tenance remained to trouble him, he paused and laid his hand again on the knob, as if tempted to return. But he left without doing so, only to turn again at the end of the hall and gaze wistfully back. Yet he went on. As he opened his own door and dis appeared within he said half audibly: "Easy to destroy me now, AmabeL One word and I am lost!" CII AFTER XXI. HAD BATST LIVID. It wa the last day of the inquest. aod to many it bade fair to be the i least interesting. All the witnesses n fi had anything to say "Bad' Ibdg ago given in their testimony, and when at or near noon Sweetwater slid into the Inconspicuous seat he had succeeded In obtaining near the coroner it was to find in two faces only any signs of eagerness and expectancy that filled his own breast to suffocation. But as these faces were those of Agnes Halli day and Amabel Page he soon recog nized that his own judgment was not at fault and that notwithstanding out ward appearances and the languid In terest shown in the now lagging pro ceedings the moment presaged an event full of unseen but vital consequence. "Frederick was not visible in the great hall; but that he was near at hwjid spoa became ; evident from . the cnange crweetwater now saw m Ama bel; for, while she had hitherto sat un der the universal gaze with only the faint smile of conscious beauty on her inscrutable features, she roused as the hands of the clock moved toward noon and glanced at the great door of en trance with an evil expectancy that I startled even Sweetwater, so little naa he really understood the nature of the passions laboring In that venomous breast. Next moment the door opened, and Frederick and his father came In. The air of triumphant satisfaction, with which Amabel sank back Into her seat was as marked In Its character as her previous suspense. What did It mean? Sweetwater, noting it and the vivid contrast it offered to Frederick's air of depression, felt that bis return had been well timed.. . Mr. Sutherland was looking very fee ble. As be took the chair offered him the change in his appearance was ap parent to all who knew him. and there were few there who did not know him. And startled by these evidences of suf fering which they could not understand and feared to interpret, even to them selves, more than one devoted friend stole uneasy glances at Frederick to see if he, too, were under the cloud which seemed to envelop his father al most beyond recognition. But Frederick was looking at Ama bel, and his erect head and determined aspect made him a conspicuous figure in the room. She who had called up this expression and alone comprehend ed it fully, smiled, as she met his eye, with that curious slow dipping of her dimples which had more than once con founded the coroner and rendered her at once the admiration and abhorrence of the crowd who for so long a time had had the opportunity of watching her. Frederick, to whom this smile con veyed a last hope as well as a lost threat, looked away as soon as possi ble, but not before her eyes had fallen in their old. Inquiring way to his hands, from which he had removed the ring which up to this hour be had invari ably worn on his third finger. In this glance of hers and this action of his began the struggle that was to make that day memorable In many hearts. After the first stir occasioned by the entrance of two such important per sons and possible witnesses the crowd settled back into its old quietude under the coroner's hand. A tedious witness was having his slow say, and to him a full attention was beinj given In the hope that some real enlightenment would come at last to settle the ques tions which had been raised by Ama bel's incomplete and unsatisfactory tes timony. But no man can furnish what he does not possess, and the few final minutes before noon passed by with out any addition to the facts which had already been presented for general consideration. As the witness sat down the clock began to strike. As the slow, hesitat ing strokes rung out Sweetwater saw Frederick yield to a sudden but most profound emotion. The old fear, which we understand if Sweetwater did not, had again seized the victim of Ama bel's ambition, and under her eye, which was blazing full upon him now with a fell and steady purpose, he found his right hand stealing toward the left in the significant action she expected. Better to yield than fall headlong into the pit one word of hers could open. He had not meant to yield, but now that the moment had come, now that he must at once and forever choose between a course that led simply to personal unhappiness and one that Involved not only himself, but those dearest to him. in disgrace and sorrow, he felt himself weaken to the point of clutching at whatever would save him from the consequences of confession. Moral strength and that tenacity of purpose which only comes from years of self control were too lately awakened in his breast to sus tain him now. As stroke after stroke fell on the ear he felt himself yield ing beyond recovery and had almost touched his finger in the significant ac tion of assent which Amabel awaited with breathless expectation when was it miracle or only the suggestion of his better nature? the memory of a face full of holy pleading rose from the past before his eyes, and with an inner cry of "Mother!" he threw his hand out and clutched his father's arm In a way to -break the charm of his own dread and end forever the effects of the Intolerable fascination that was working upon him. Next minute the last stroke rang out, and the hour was up which Amabel bad set as the limit of her silence. A pause, which to their two hearts if to no others, seemed strangely ap propriate, followed the cessation of these sounds, then the witness was dis missed, and Amabel, taking advan tage of the movement, was about to lean toward Mr. Courtney, when Fred erick, leaping with a bound to his feet, drew all eyes toward himself with the cry: "Let me be put on my oath. I have testimony to give of the utmost im portance ic this case." The coroner was astounded; every ne was astounded. No one had ex pected anything from him and Instinc tively every eye turned "toward Ama bel to see how she was affected by his action. Strangely, evidently, for the look ! with which she settled back In her seat was one which no one who saw it ever forgot, though it conveyed no hint of her real feelings, which were some what chaotic. Frederick, who had forgotten her, now that he had made up his mind to speak, waited for the coroner's reply. "If you have testimony," said that gentleman, after exchanging a few hur ried words with Mr. Courtney and the surprised Knapp"you can do no bet ter than give it to us at once. Mr. Frederick Sutherland will you take the UivU". H ill and Hins-, Etc., Etc Vitn a noble air from which hesitation had vanished. Frederick started toward the place Indicated, but "Let me be put on my oath. I hare ttsti money to give of the utmost importance." stopped before he had taken a half dozen steps and glanced back at his fa ther, who was visibly succumbing to this last shock. "Go!" he whispered, but in so thrill ing a tone it was heard to the remotest corner of the room. "Spare me the an guish of saying what I have to say in your presence. I could not bear It. You could not bear it. Later, if you will wait for me In one of these rooms. I will repeat my tale in your ears, but go now. It is my last entreaty." There was a silence; no one ventur ed a dissent, no one so much as made a gesture of disapproval. Then Mr. Sutherland struggled to his feet, cast one last look around him and disap peared through a door which had open ed like magic before him. Then and not till then did Frederick move for ward. The moment was intense. The coro ner seemed to share the universal ex citement, for his first question was a leading one and brought out this star tling admission: "I have obtruded myself into this in quiry and now ask to be heard by this jury because no man knows more than I do of the manner and cause of Aga tha Webb's death. This you will be lieve when I tell you that I was the person Miss Page followed into Mrs. Webb's house and whom she heard de scend the stairs during the moment she crouched behind the figure of the sleep ing Philemon." It was more. Infinitely more, than any one there had expected. - It was not only an acknowledgment, but a confession, and the shock, the surprise, the alarm even, which It occasioned even to those who had never bad much confidence in this young man's virtue, was almost appalling in its intensity. Had it not been for the consciousness of Mr. Sutherland's near presence the feeling would have risen to outbreak, and many voices were held in subjec tion by the remembrance of this ven erated man's last look, that otherwise would have made themselves heard in despite of the restrictions of the place and the authority of the police. To Frederick It was a moment of im measurable grief and humiliation. On every face, in every shrinking form, in subdued murmurs and open cries he read Instant and complete condemna tion, and yet In all his life from boy hood up to this hour, never had he been so worthy of their esteem and consideration. But. though he felt the iron enter his soul, he did not lose his determined attitude. He had observed a change In Amabel and a change in Agnes, and If only to disappoint the vile triumph of the one and raise again the drooping courage of the other he withstood the clamor and began speak ing again before the coroner had been able to fully restore quiet. "I know," said he, "what thia Ac knowledgment must convey to the minds of the Jury and people here as sembled, but if any one who listens to me thinks me guilty of the death I was so unfortunate as to have witnessed, he will be doing me a wrong which Aga tha Webb would be the first to con demn. Dr. Talbot and you, gentlemen of the jury. In the face of God and man, I here declare that Mrs. Webb In my presence and before my eyes gave to herself the blow which, has robbed us all of a most valuable life. She was not murdered." s It was a solemn assertion, but it fail ed to convince the crowd before him. As by one Impulse men and women broke into tumult. Mr. Sutherland was forgotten, and cries of "Never! She was too good! It's all calumny! A wretched lie!" broke In unrestrained excitement from every part of the large room. In vain the coroner smote with his gavel; in vain the local police en deavored to restore order; the tide was up and overswept everything for an in stant till silence was suddenly restored by the sight of Amabel smoothing out the folds cf her crisp white frock with an incredulous, almost Insulting, smile that at once fixed attention again on Frederick. He seized the occasion and spoke up in a tone of great resolve. "I have made an assertion," said he, "before God and before this Jury. To make it seem a credible one I shall have to tell my story from the begin ning. Am I allowed to do so, Mr. Coro ner?" "You are." was the firm response. " '"Then, gentlemen, cdnCnueo" FretT erick. still without looking at Amabel, whose smile had acquired a mockery that drew the eyes cf the jury toward her more than once during the follow ing recital, "you know, and the public generally now know, that Mrs. Webb has left me the greater portion of the money of which she died possessed. I have never before acknowledged to any one, not even to the good man who awaits this Jury's verdict on the other side of that door, that she had reason? for this, good reasons, reasons which up to the very evening of her death I was myself ignorant of, as I was ig norant of her intentions in my regard or that I was the special object of her ittec4i0CkStkatwet,wexe under; any M wutua Ociigatioiis lit uxi.f" ;t then, I should have thought cf going to her in the great strait In which I found myself on that day I can hardly say. I knew she had money in her bouse. This I had unhappily been made acquainted with In an accidental way, and I knew she was of kindly disposi tion and quite capable of doing a very unselfish act. Still this would not seem to be reason enough for me to intrude upon her late at night with a plea for a ! even, to be found in his tones made thi large loan of money bad I uot been in. story, strange and incredible as it seena a desperate condition of mind, which ed. appear for the moment plausible, made any attempt teem reasonable that j "And Batsy?" asked the coroner, promised relief from the unendurable) "Must have fallen when we did. for burden of a pressing and disreputable j 1 never heard her voice after the first debt. ; scream. But I shall speak of her again. "I was obliged to have money a What I must now explain is how the great deal of money and I had to have j money In Mrs. Webb's drawer came it at once, and. wliiie x Enow tns will not serve to lighten the suspicion I have brought upon myself by my late admissions, it is the only explanation I can give you for leaving the ball at my fathers bouse and hurrying down j j had been such a borriSed witness to secretly and alone Into town to the lit- j tad not yet proved faraL The eyes I tie cottage where, as I had been told '. had seen close, as I had supposed, for early In the evening, a small entertain-1 ever, were now open, and she was look ment was being given which would ln-' inS at me with a smile that has never sure its being open even at so late an j itft my memory and never will. hour as midnight. Miss Page, wno will, I am sure, pardon the introdec- tion of her name Into this narrative. Was It money only that you wanted. has taken pains to declare to you that j Frederick? If so, you could have bad In the expedition she herself made into j it without crime. There are $1,000 on town that evening she followed some j that table and half as much again in person's steps down bill. This is very the closet over yonder. Take them and likely true, and those steps were prob- let them pave your way to a better ably mine, for after leaving the house life. My death will help you to remein by the garden door I came directly I ber.' Do these word3. this action of down the main road to the corner of hers, seem incredible to you. sirs? Ala, the lane running past Mrs. Webb's cot- i alas! they will not when I tell you" tage. Having already seen from the and here he cast one anxious, deeplv hillside the light burning in her upper anxious, glance at the room in which windows. I felt encouraged to proceed and so hastened on till I came to the gate on High street. Here I had a mo ment of hesitation, and thoughts bitter enough for me to recall them at this moment came into my mind, making that instant perhaps the very worst in my life. But they passed, thank God, and with nothing more desperate in mind than a sullen intention of having my own way about this money I lifted the latch of the front door and stepped in. of friends In her little ground parlor or at least hear the sound of merry voices and laughter in the rooms above, but no sounds of any sort awaited me. In- deed the house seemed strangely silent for one so fully lighted, and. astonish- ed at this. I pushed the door ajar at my left and looked In. An unexpected and pitiful sight awaited me. Seated at a table set with abundance of un taxed food, I saw the master of the house, with his head sunk forward on his arms, asleep. The expected guests had failed to arrive, and he, tired out with waiting, had fallen Into a doze at the board. ) "This was a condition of things for which I was not prepared. Mrs. Webb, whom I wished to see, was probably up stairs, and while I might summon her by a sturdy rap on the door, be side which I stood. I had so little desire to wake her husband, of whose mental condition I was well aware, that I could not bring myself to make any ldud noise within his hearing. Yet I had not the courage to retreat. All my hope of relief from the many difficul ties that menaced me lay in the gen erosity of this great hearted woman, and if out of pusillanimity I let this hour go by without making my appeal, nothing but shame and disaster await ed me. Yet how could I hope to lure her down stairs without noise? I could not, and so yielding to the Impulse of the moment, without any realization, I " you want my life, I will give it to you uith my own hand." here swear, of the effect which my un expected presence would have on the noble woman overhead. I slipped up the narrow staircase and, catching at that moment the sound of her voice calling out to Batsy, I stepped up to the door I saw standing open before me and confronted her before she could move from the table before which she was sitting, counting over a large roll of money. "My look (and It was doubtless not a common look, for the sight of a mass of money at that moment, when money was everything to me, roused every lurking demon in my breast) seemed to appall. If it did not frighten, her, for she rose, and meeting my eye with a gaze in which shock ana some strange and poignant agony totally Incompre hensible to me were strangely blended, she cried out: " No, no, Frederick! You don't know what you are doing. If you want my money, take it; if you want my life, I will give It to you with my own hand. Don't stain yours don't "I did not understand her. I did not know until I thought It over afterward that my hand was thrust convulsively into my breast in a way which, taken with my wild mien, made me look as if I had come to murder her for the money over which she was hovering. I was blind, deaf to everything but that money, and, bending madly for ward in a state of mental intoxication awful enough for me to remember now, I answered her frenzied words by some such broken exclamations as these: " 'Give, then! I want hundreds thou sands now, now. to save myself! Dis grace, shame, prison await me if I don't have them. Give, give!' And my hand went out toward it, not toward her; but she mistook the action, mis took my purpose, and, with a heart broken cry, to - save me, me, from crime, the worst crime of which hu manity i capable, she caught up a dag ger lying enly too near her hand In the open drawer against which she leaned, and in a moment ef fathomless an guisM, which, we who cam never knew more ; tau uaruty measure, iiuugtu 01--; la : and I can tell you no more. Her blood and Batsy's shriek from the adjoining ; room swam through my consciousness, f and then she fell, as I supposed, dead : unon the floor, and I. in scarcely better case, fell also. "This, as God lives, is the truth con cerning the wound found in the breast cf this never to be forgotten woman." The feeling, the pathos, the anguish . into my possession and how the daesrer she had planted in her breast came to be found on the lawn oxitside. When 1 came to myself, and that must have been very soon. I found that the blow " 'There is no blood on you. she mur- mured. 'You did not strike the blow. j Mr. Sutherland was hidden "that, un j known to me, unknown to any one liv- ing but herself, unknown to that good I man from whom It can no longer be j kept hidden. Agatha Webb was my mother. I am Philemon's son and not the offspring of Charles and Marietta Sutherland!" CHAPTER XXII. MOW HE WAS FOILED. Impossible! Incredible! Like a wave suddenly lifted the whole assemblage rose In surprise If , sot in protest. But there was no out- l burst. The very depth of the feelings ! evoked made all ebullition impossible, and as one sees the billow pause ere it breaks and gradually subside, so this j crowd yielded to the awe within them j and one by one sank back into their seats till quiet was again restored and only a circle of listening faces con fronted the man who had just stirred a whole roomful to Its depths. Seeing this and realizing his opportunity, Fred erick at once entered into the explana tions for which each heart there pant ed. "This will be overwhelming news to bim who has cared for me since in fancy. You have heard him call me son. With what words shall I over throw his confidence in the truth and rectitude of his long buried wife and make him know in his old age that he has wasted years of patience upon one who was not of his blood or lineage? The wonder, the incredulity, you mani fest are my best excuse for my long delay in revealing the secret Intrusted to me by this dying woman." An awed silence greeted these words. Never was the interest of a crowd more intense or its passions held in greater restraint. Yet Agnes' tears flowed freely, and Amabel's smiles well, their expression had changed, and to Sweetwater, who alone bad eyes for her now, they were surcharged with a tragic meaning strange to see in one of her callous nature. Frederick's voice broke as he pro ceeded in bis self Imposed task: "The astounding fact which I have Just communicated to you was made known to me by my mother, with the dagger still plunged In her breast. She would not let me draw it out. She knew that death would follow that act. and 6he prized every moment remain ing to ber because of the bliss she en Joyed of seeing and having near her her only living child. The love, the passion, the boundless devotion, she Bbowed in those last few minutes transformed me in an instant from a selfish brute into a deeply repentant man. I knelt before her in anguish. I made her feel that, wicked as I had been, 1 was not the conscienceless wretch she had Imagined and that she was mistaken as to the motives which led me Into ber presence. And when I saw by her clearing brow and peaceful look that I had fully persuaded ber of in is 1 let tier speaK wuai worus out would and tell, as she was able, the se cret tragedy of her life. "It is a sacred story to me, and if you must know it let it be from her own words In the letters she left be hind ber. She only told me that to save me from the fate of the children who had preceded me the five little girls and boys who had perished almost at birth in her arms she had parted from me in early infancy to Mrs. Suth erland, then mourning the sudden death of her only child; that this had been done secretly and under circum stances calculated to deceive Mr. Suth erland, so that he had never known I was not his own child, and she en Joined me never to enlighten him if by any sacrifice on my part I could right fully avoid it; that she was happy in having me hear the truth before she died; that the joy which thi3 gave her was so great that she did not regret her fatal act, violent and uncalled for as it was, for it had showed her my heart and allowed me to read hers. Then she talked of my father, by whom I mean he whom yon call Philemon, and she made me promise I would care for him to the last with tenderness. saying that I would be able to do this f without seeming Impropriety, since she had willed me all her fortune under this proviso. Finally she gave me a key and, pointing out where the rest of her money lay hidden, bade me carry it away as her last gift, together with the package of letters I would find with it- And when I had taken these and given her back the key she told me that but for one thing she would die happy, and, though her strength and breath were fast falling her, she made me understand that she was wor ried about the Zabeis, who had not come, according to a sacred custom be tween them, to celebrate the anniver sary of her wedding, and prayed me to see the two old gentlemen before I slept, since nothing but death or dire distress wsould have kept them from gratifying the one whim f my father's failing mind. I promised, and with perfect peace In her face she pointed to the dagfeer lg tier breast. JtotP&WA Wartnfhy "TOP 11 sne en neti ror ratsy. ! want ner to hear me declare before I go, said she. that tbf stroke was delivered by my self upon myself. Out when I rose to look for Batsy I found that the shock of her mistress' fatal act had killed her and that only her dead body was lying across the window sill of the ad joining room. It was a chance that rob bed me of the only witness who could testify to my innocence, in case my presence in t!s bouse of death should become known, and. realizing all the "I sato it to he the cldrr of the tiro, John danger in which it threw me, I did not dare to tell my mother for fear it would make her last moments miser able. So I told her that the poor wom an had understood what she wished, but was too terrified to move or speak, and this satisfied my mother and made her last breath one of trust and con tented love. .She died as I drew the dagger from her breast, and. seeing this, I was seized with horror of the Instrument which had cost me such a dear and valuable life and flung it wildly from the window. Then I lifted her and laid ber where you found her, on the sofa. That the dagger waa an old time gift of ber former lover. James Zabel, I did not know, much less that it bore his initials on the handle." He paused, and the awe occasioned by the scene be had described was so deep and the silence so prolonged that a shudder passed over the whole as semblage when from some unknown quarter a single, cutting voice arose In this one short, mocking comment: "Ob. the fairy tale!" Was It Amabel who had Fpoken? Some yet thought so and looked her way, but they only beheld a sweet, tear stained face turned with an air of moving appeal upon Frederick as if begging pardon for the wicked doubts which had driven him to this defense. Frederick met that look with one so severe it partook of harshness. Then, resuming his testimony, be said: "It Is of the Zabel brothers I must now speak, and of bow one of them. James by name, came to be Involved In this affair. "When I left my new found mother. I was in such a state of mind that I passed the toom in which my new found father rat sleeping, with scarcely so much as a glance. But as I hasten ed on toward the quarter where the Zabeis lived some compunctions of pity for bis desolate state caused me to fa! ter in my rapid flight, so that I did not reach the house quite as quickly as might otherwise have done. When did. I found It dark, as I might reason ably have expected; but. remembering the extreme anxiety which my mother had shown in tbelr regard, even In ber dying moments, 1 approached the front door and was about to knock when I found it open. Greatly astonished, I at once passed In and. seeing my way perfectly In the moonlight, entered the room on the left, the door of which also stood open. " It was the' second house I had entered unannounced that night, and in this, as in the other, I oucoun tered a man sitting asleep by the table. "Going up to him, I saw it to be the elder of the two, John Zabel, and, per ceiving that he was suffering for food and in a condition of extreme misery, I took out the first bill my hand encoun tered in my overfull pockets and laid it on the table by his side. As I did so be gave a sigh, but did not wake; and, sat isfied that I had done all that was wise and all that even my mother would ex pect of me under the circumstances. and fearing to encounter the. other brother if I lingered, I hastened away and took the shortest path home. Had I been more of a man, or if my visit to Mrs. Webb had been actuated by a more communicable motive, I would have gone at once to the good man who believed me to be of his own flesh and blood and told him of the strange and heartrending adventure which had changed the whole tenor of my thoughts and life and begged his ad vice a3 to what I had better do under the difficult circumstances in which I found myself placed. But the memory of a thousand past Ingratitudes, to gether with the knowledge of the shock which he could not fail to receive on learning at this late day and under con ditions at once so tragic and full of menace that the child which his long buried wife had once placed in his arms as his own was neither of her blood or his, rcse up between us and caused me not only to attempt silence, but to secrete in the adjoining woods the mcney I had received in the vain hope that all visible connection be tween myself and my mother's tragic death would thus be lost. You see, I had not calculated on Miss Amabel Page." The flash he here received from that lady's eyes startled the crowd and gave Sweetwater, already suffering under shock after shock of mingled surprise and wonder, his first definite idea that he had never rightly understood the re lations between these two and that something besides Justice had actuated Amabel in her treatment of this young man. This feeling was shared by oth ers, and a reaction set In in his favor which even affected the officials who were conducting the inquiry. ' This was shown by the difference of manner now assumed by the coroner and by the more easily impressed Sweetwater, who had not yet learned the indispen sable art of hiding his feelings. Fred erick himself felt the change and show ed it by the look of relief and growing confidence he cast at Agnes. Of the questions and answers which now passed between him and the vari ous members of the Jury I need give no account They but emphasized facts already known and produced but little change In the general, feeling, which wax.one.aai NO MAN IS STRONfJER THAN HIS STOMACH. Let the greatest athlete have dyspepsia nd his muscles would soon fail. Phvsi ral strength is derived from focul. If a man has insufficient food he loses strength. If he has no food he dies. Food is con verted into nutrition through the stom ach and bowels. It depends on the strength of the stomach to what extent food eaten is difresmi and assimilated. People can die of starvation .who have abundant food to eat. when the stomach and its associate organs of digestion and nutrition do not perform their duty. Thus the stomach is really the vital or gan of the body. If th stomach is"weak the body will be weak also, because it is upon the stomach the body relies for its strength. And as the body, considered as a whole, is made up of its several mem bers ana organs, so the weakness of the body aa a consequence of "weak" stom ach will be distributed among the or gans which compose the body. If the body is weak because it is ill-nourished that physical weakness will be found in all the organs heart, lijtfr, kidneys, etc. The liver will be torpid and inactive, giving rise to bi'iousne. Joss of a;pete. mt'Mk nerves, feble or Irrearular mctinn 0 heart, paipjtatii. dfzzine.is. headache, backache and kindred disturbances and weaknesses. Mr. lxui& Pare, ot Qurtc. wTte: "For years tir my health Vwan u tail, my head tw ditxy. ye pained me. and my stomach was or all the time, vhiie tot)rlhii) I would eat would sm to lie ueary llkw lead on my xomtrh. The doctors claimed that It was sympathetic trouble due to drstpepfcia. nd Brt'!Tibed for me, and alrhuuch i tk their powders regularly jet J felt no better. My wife advised me to try ir. I'letvo's Golden Medical Jiswrery and st.ui takimr ibe li tor's medicine. Sbe houffht me a Wttle and we soon, found that 1 becan to improve, so I kept n the treatment. 1 took on flesh, my stomach became normal, the digestive organ wovked rertectly and I soon U-nan to look Uk a different, person. 1 cm never oea?-e to be grateful for what your medicine has done for me and 1 certainly five it hitrlieM rraie." Don't bo wheedled br a penny-Bra bhhig dealer Into taking Inferior snlistitufs for Dr. Pierce's medicines, recommended to be "just as jrood." To gain knowledge of votir own body in sickness and health semi for tho Peo ple's Common Sense Medical Adviser. A book of UXk pases. Send 21 one -cent stamps for paptr-covered, or 31 stamp for cloth-hound copy. Address Dr. K. V. Tierce, 063 Main Street, Hutlalo, K. Y. riKf ami tieen aratvn into tue mesne of this tragic mystery. When he was allowed to resume his seat, the name of Miss Amabel Pace was acaln called. 1 She rose with a bound. N audit that she had anticipated had occurred: facts of which she could know nothing had changed tbenspect of affairs and mad the position of Frederick something so remote from any she could have Imag ined that she was still in the maze ot the numberless conflicting emotions which these revelations were calculat ed to call out In one who had risked all on the hazard of a die and lost She did not even know at this moment whether she was glad or sorry he could explain so cleverly his anomalous posi tion. She had caught the look he bad cast at Agnes, and, while this angered her. It did not greatly modify ber opin ion that he was destined for herself, for, however other people might feel, she did not for a moment believe his story. She had not a pure enough heart to do so. To her all self sacrifice was an anomaly. No woman of the mental or physical strength of Agatha Webb would plant a dagger in ber own breast Just to pre vent another person from committing a crime, were he lover, husband or son. So she believed and so would these others also when once relieved of his magnetic personality. Yet bow thrill ing it had been to bear bim plead his cause so well, so thrilling it was al most worth the loss of her revenge to meet his look of hate and dream of the possibility of turning it later Into the old look of love. Yes, yes, she loved him now, not for bis position, for that was gone; not even for his money, for she could contemplate its loss, but for himself who had so boldly shown that he was stronger than she and could triumph over her by the sheer force of bis masculine daring. With such feelings, what should she say to these men? flow conduct her self under questions which would be much more searching now than before T She could not even decide in ber own mind. She must let Impulse havs Its way. Happily she took the fight stand at first. She did not endeavor to make any corrections In ber former testi mony, only acknowledged that the flower whose presence on the scene of death bad been such a mystery bad fallen from ber hair at the ball and thst she had seen Frederick pick It up and put It in his buttonhole. Beyond this and the Inferences it afterward awakened In ber mind she would not go, though many present, and among them Frederick, felt confident that ber attitude had been one of suspicion from the first and that it was to follow him rather than to supply the wants of the old men. the Zabeis, she bad left the ball and found ber way to Agatha Webb's cottage. (To Be Continued.) and Beauty Beauty is the external proof of health; with ailing health comes failing beauty. Wom an's delicate organism is fre quently over-taxed by arduous household duties, and the de mands of society. The con stant drain upon her vitality weakens her nervous system. The penalty is a tired, worn out, exhausted condition which destroys her appetite, robs her of rest, and at intervals causes much suffering and distress. When these conditions exist, the weakened nerves must be strengthened. Dr.Miles'Nervine will do this. It stimulates the action of all the organs, brings refreshing sleep, and drives away, that look of care. I have taken Dr. MIW Restorative TferviM far years, aa did my mother before me. Whenever I feel tired, worn-out. or have headache. I always take the Nervine and it atrenrthens roe. I consider it a treat remedy for nervousness or debility." HES. C. L. FREDERICK. Canton. Ohio. Dr. Miles Nervine la sold by ye-ue druggist, whe will guarantee that the flrt bottle will benefit. If It falls, he will refund your money. Mile Medical Co., Elkhart, Ind HeaMhi