Newspaper Page Text
Lyon County Times.
: .■■■■■■I ■ I !» ■■» ....■ ■■■■■« T ■■>«■*— VOL, xxxv. _Dayton, Nevada, Saturday, January 13,1894.No, 2, LYON COUNTY TIMES. Pnbllehe<levervS«»nrdeT MonHnKby stron oaths PROPRIETOR. p. W- HAIUBANEtB EDITOR AND PUBLISHER. TERMS: Sln*leCople..» 10 per Biz Month!.1 76 per Peer. . S 00 OelWered In town bp carrier, per month 64 febedrlptlatM mail be pe!4 ter In ndyance. OFFICIAL DIRECTORY. limited Strtsi ttsvenant. President.Gtovaa Ci.evbland Viet Praaident .A. Stevenson Secretary of State.W. Q. Gkesham Secretary of Treasury.J. G. Carlisle Secretary of War.D. 8. Lamont Attorney General .Richard Olnby Secretary of Nary. II. A. Hhrhekt postmaster General .W. S. Bihmell Secretary of Interior .Hoke Smith Secretary of Agriculture.J. 8. Morton itati of Nevada. (Jotted State* 1. Wm M Ste v art Senator* I. .IohnPJonb* Congressman. K G. Nb-land* Governor. H K Colcord Lieutenant Governor . J Poujadk t M A Murphy Judge* of Supreme Court < C 11 Belknai f K it BlOELO Clerk of Supreme Court Joseph Joseph State rrea>urer John K Koa^ Secret, ry of state.OH Gray State Controller. R L Horton Attorney General. J I) Torreykon Surveyor General.John K Jonei State Printer. Joseph Eckley Bupt. Public Instruction. Oryir Ring . Richard Rising .A I. KJtzoerald A E CHENEY _ UK I 41, HOT to on County. Ju*ti. e of DidrictCourt .. Richard Rising State Senator. J. K. Gignovx , _ . t. Wm. Mri.ykkky Assemblymen j s. O. linsTos Sheriff v* A. DONNELLY A**ea*or A. W Bryn Clerk and . rra iirer. .J. A HunToo Auditor and Recorder. i P. Mac* PUtrl t Attorney . .. J. C. IIaXLETT Public Administrator J G. V t>fl i (1 term D P Rand«li County Com r «( tern)... J Y i u. HUUIX. U till) . 11 fl'RiOt. UNION HOTEL ATA!N THi'CT, DAYTON, • * NEVADA. MKS I. C. UKUHEK ProprlfinsM. TUB TABLE will alwaya be -applied with the holeeM eat. • blr., the market afford4. and ail the delira it will be «up|died in >ra-«m *\ieal- an be <•!* tamed #it nil mur*. o <ked to -till the m«>«t> a tldlvm- epl ure. TUB BAXi will t*e Mippl ed with none but the ehoi.-e Mqi AIIM A < ib.tiiH and the fln.-t mixed and fan v drink will mI way-lie furthcoming upon order A fine lub room I-at the dl-po^al of piirile- who wl«h t Indulge In a m». la* game of rard». Boar'l by the Dav. Week or Mot tl at Popular P.icea. $3,000.00 A YEAR FOR THE INDUSTRIOUS. If you want work that is pleasant and profit.Mbit •end us your address immediately. We teach luei and women how to earn troiu M.OO per dn\ t« 93,00# per year without having had previou •xperienee,and furnish tlie employment nt which they aan make that amount. Nothing «llfVtonlf to learn or that requires much time i work is ea»y. healthy, and honorable, and cm • bine dur• lea daytime or vrollings, ilalil III > •<« 11 local Hf, wherever you live. T»o result of a few lieu re' work often equals a week’s wanes. We have taught thousands of both sexes anil nil ages, and many have laid foundations that will Surety bring them riches. Home of the smartest men In this country owe their success In life t«> the start given them while in our employ years ago. You, reader, mar do as well* try it. You cannot fail. No capital necessary We lit you out with something that is aow, ootid, and sure. A book brimful of advice is free to ah Help your self by writlug for it to-day — not to morrow. Delays are costly. E. C. ALLEN & CO., Box 420, AUCUSTA, MAINE. CARSON RIVER PLACER MINING — ANII DREDGING COMPANY. -OFFICE No. 18, Broadway, N. Y. City. WITBI ‘ FOItRKMTKR. FreNlilent. C. a/M9f«VMr,9#mtarf • ' ■ ■’■■■ '•.- - ’£• | n§f'_ r -t -i CHAPTER XVL TilK CZAR STRIKES. While we were at breakfast the next morning a well known knock at the dooi was followed by the usual cheery formula "Good morning. Mine. Lucas. Fine weather, isn’t it? IsM Tarns In his studio?" "What can have brought out our friend so early ?” exclaimed Taras ns Mere Lucas admitted the visitor "Welcome, George G onion.” Gordon’s broad forehead was beaded with perspiration. "I was anxious to catch you before you went out, old man,” he exclaimed, wiping bis face with a large handkerchief after paying his devoirs to me In some choice scraps of French and laying an uncut Ulus trated magazine by my cup. "Couldn’t get a cab, and—phew! the sun’s blazing.” "Nothing unpleasant, 1 hope, to make you expose yourself in this way.” "Not a bit of it. But you’ll never guess what has drawn me out of my den at this hour ” "I won’t try Never saw you out before midday before. What is it?” "Business.” "Business—you, George Gordon—impoa siblel” "It’s a fact. I’ll tell you All about it when we get up iuto the studio ” "No, tell me now It’s never too early to hear good u* wv” " Vv ell. ibeu— pardon me, mademoiselle, 1 can’t express myself lu French—have you found any one to burn your group yet awhile?” "No. I have been to Cramps and Fisher and Hud No good. They’re all frightr ened by tin ./.e. They haven’t proper kilns for toe work and can't do it.” "Then I will.” "You!” "Yes, I’ve Invested capital in a pottery." ■*lu order to help me out of my difficulty." j "Not entire!v The fact Is, a kind of moral awakening Is at the bottom of it Don’t but h. It's no joke, I can tell you. I never felt so serious, mo right clown in earnest, in ull my life. You know my con science has been pricking me for some time paMt— There you go again. Can’t a man have a conscience without being a red hot revolutionist like you? 1 tell you I have felt that my life has been misspent, and in stead of lounging about doing nothing, ex oept waste my money, I ought to occupy myself and invest mycapit.il in some In I dustry that would give employment to the laboring class.” Gordon spoke with perfect gravity, but 1 j saw by lbe twitching of Taras’ mustache as he bent over his tea that he found it dif ficult to listen to this unnouucenuat with a serious face. ‘‘Now, old Bell—jou now Colonel Bell, J the fine UWellow who came with me about a mouth ago to look at your work—his feelings are just like mine only —poor old fellow—he hasn’t got the cash He’s per- 1 hups liss concerned about the welfare of the laboring class than I am - it’s you who have wo; kid me up so tremendously in that way- but lie’s quite as eager to invest his capital in a paying concern But the worst of it is. you kuo .v, he’s uot so deuced j little of ii that he couldn't very easily do anything off his own bat. And for thusaks of his daughter lie dare not venture it in a very ii -1 y couceru. You know he bun a daughter J*” Taras nodded, with a humorous twinkle In his eye and a kindly smile. "Kavanngli tells me she is a most beauti i ful and charming young lady.** he said. | “She is, old man,” Gordon said euthusi astieally, coloriug up to his temples, " i ou ■ must meet her. I’ve told her about Mile, i Aura, and she is most anxious to make her I acquaintaiu .” “She is awfully uice. However, that Las nothin* to do with the affair. The thin* Is that the old gentleman uml I have hit it off completely. He quite jumped at the • proposal. Of course I take nil risks.” Taras nodded, as if t his arrangement were the most natural thin* in the world be tweeu men of business, and asked when the Idea had first struck (Jordon. “1 be very day t hat humbug II-backed out of the affair and you expressed an opin ion that it would bedifficult to 11 nil another . pottery where such a work could he fired, j Ey the luckiest chance possible 1 learned j the same day that Perry, round the corner, i wanted to sell his works.” “The ginger beer bottle place?” Taras ' asked with a little ruefulness in his face. “Oh, lie does drain pipes as well. Hut of course we shall build a new kiln—can’t make bricks without struw, you know— and get the best workmen that are to be hud. I haven’t said a word ou this matter to any one for fear the negotiations might fall through, but last night the affair was concluded satisfactorily, and we enter into possession at once. As soon as you are rea<ly the workmen can set about casting the group, so that it will be dry and be reaily for burning by the time the kiln is finished—of course, old man, supposing that you are willing to give us the job.” “A proi»er kiln and good workmen—1 usk for nothing more than that ” “You may depend on having them. Any thing is to be had for tuouey, and I shall bo only too glad to put mine to such good use. You know how thoroughly 1 sym p&thize with your cause. That ftlone would command my fortune, but look what a start this job will give us—what an adver tisementl” Taras stretched out his hand and grasped his friend’s in a silence more expressive than any verbal testimony of his faith in Gordon and recognition of the generous motive that underlay ms scneme. We saw a great deal of Gordon during the following week. On the Saturday there was a Iona consultation in the work shop with two ot the cleverest men in the trade with respect to the casting of the group, which bad now received the last touch, and it was agreed that on the Mon day following the operation should be be gun. Taras told me this when the work men were gone, and I found him In the workshop. There he stood before his work with folded arms, and after regarding it in silence for a few minutes he said with im pressive force: “This is the finest work I have ever done in my life. Aura. 1 am pooud of it.” It was the pride of conscious strength, not the vanity of a weak mind, that im pelled him to say this, and it evoked a cor responding feeling of exultant admiration in my brearft that banished all foolish thoughts and compunctions. 1 slipped my hand under his arm and pressed it. 1 was proud, too, not of the work, but of the man whose genius had produced it. “It should be bis finest work,” 1 said to myself as the awful reflectiou flashed upon me that It was likely to be his last and that it would cost him his life. We went to Kew on Sunday afternoon and lingered under the beautiful trees in tbe gardens until the keeper cried. “All out!” We were both more silent than usual, for we were both thinking about the group—he with some anxiety, probably, about the delicate operation of the morrow, I for the result of its successful achieve mentv But with my anxiety was mingled a supreme happiness, a fitting sense of my privilege in being the friend and companion of such a noble man On Monday morning I rose early, and go lng out to tlie ate it*r I saw Taras standing iu the doorway, his chin sunk upon his breast and his eyes fixed on something within. /II IUC 0VUUU v/1 hiJ BIC|7 ur , ci.-»tv» uii head ami turned, looking down at me with deep dejection in his face and with such va cancy in his regard that 1 could scarcely be lieve he saw me. “Taras!” I exclaimed, halting at the foot of the steps In wonder and fear. Without a word he beckoned me to come up, and as 1 reached his side on the landing he raised his hand and poiuted within. With a choking cry of dismay 1 perceived that bis work—the beautiful group on which he had spent months of patient labor and strenuous thought—lay a shape less wreck Uj.gii the floor. The irons that supported the subject stood there, a gro tesque skeleton of the living figures, but the modeled clay was heaped upon the floor in a shapeless mass, the original de sign beaten out of recognition. For ihemometit 1 thought that, finding it fallen and his work spoiled, he himself had trampled upon it in a lit of frenzied exas perat ion. "Was it too damp?” i asked, knowing the care betook to wring out the wetted \ cloths that enveloped the group at night time He shook his head. “Then who lias done this?” 1 asked. “The czar.” he lepiied. “His arm is long.” •hut not so long us yours,” said 1, fin i with n spirit of revengeful wrath. “You will not give in because of this. You will fig: j t Inin to toe end Whatf you have done before you can do again You can build up j the figures once more and make them as | beautiful as they were It is only a mallei j o» time.” y.y brave A urn*” sAid he, laying Ms hand affectionately oa my shoulder, “you give me the courage I lack. Yes, that is the way to face a disaster like thia Take up the sword and fight on. That alone makes defeat honorable. What does it matter—the delay of a few mouths? We shouldn’t be content to do nothing. They’ve left me the bones at any rate,” he added, with a laugh and n nod at the rusted iron, “and we shall soon seethe flesh grow again on them. Let us go down now. After break last we will begin again. It’s good to udtc n uiuir uivwu »v ouwu * w Come, Aura.” But for all my bravery I could eat do breakfast, and when Taras spoke of our visit to Krw 1 burst into a flood of uncon trollable tears with a recollection of the coufull-lit hope aud pride which bad filled us with such happiuess and couteut. When Gordon and the workmen came, 1 let them go up to the workshop without a word, but 1 determined to spare Taras the pain of telling the story again, and so when Kavanagh came 1 stopped him in the passage, and, taking hint into the sit ting room, myself related what had hap-, peued. He listened with astonishment* and seemed greatly shocked. “Good heavens,” he exclaimed, “what a terrible blow for poor Taras! Gordon told me that they w’ere to begin casting the group today. I came to congratulate my friend on having finished his work. Poor fellow! Whut is he going to do?” “Make another group,” 1 answered fierce ly, “and if that’s destroyed another after that. You dou’t think he's going to give up, do you?” He paused in reflective silence for a min ute, then wen! to the door und looked into the passage. He stood there for another minute, closed the door as silently as he had opened it, aud returning to my side con- j tinued: “No,” he said quietly; “that wasn’t, however, exactly what 1 meant. Can you tell me if be has taken any steps to dis cover tbs person who committed the out* rage?” “He hunt token any step** He knows who did it. It was the czar, us lays so. There's no getting at him.” "But we ought to get at the men employ ed by him, (or what is to prevent them doing this again when the next model la finished If they are allowed to sacape nowf” “Well, how are they to be caught?” “That Is what we who are tbe friends of Taros ought to try and find out. Taras Is too intent on striking at tbe czar to occupy himself with the agents, but we have not that excuse for indifference, and we might at least attempt to find them. That at any rate Is my feeling, and 1 think it is yours too.” “Of course it Is. I can’t sleep at night for feariDg what they may do.” “Then let us make a practical beginning now. We need not bother Taras about it. Let us try to find tbe enemy out just as if he were au ordinary thief who had broken into the house. Do you agree to that?” "Why, certainly." “Tell me now," said he, drawing hischair a little Dearer and lowering his voice, “when did this’take place?” “I don’t know. We found It all smashed dowD when we went up in the workshop before breakfast this morning. It was all right when we were there on Saturday night.” “You did not go In there yesterday?" "No.” “Then It must have happened between Saturday night and this morning. Now,” dropping his voice almost to a whisper, “what time does Mere Lucas go to bed?” Tbe question startled me, but 1 answered that she was never up later tbau V. “Taras sleeps at the top of the house, doesn't he?" "Yei” “And Mere Lucas on the same floor as your room—the first floor?” “Yes.” “Tell me, does she ever go down stairs after you go to your room?” "Not that I know of?” “Do you ever hear any peculiar noise In the night?" ISO, 1 replied, wuu uj uucuimunauie creeping of the flesh. Kavanagb reflected for a minute or two, ! stroking the short black beard that cov ered bis handsome face, his sleep; eyes so ! closed that only narrow slits of light were reflected under the long curved lashes, and ' then agaiu bending forward be murmured In atone perfectly inaudible beyond our selves: "Were you at borne all day yesterduyf" "No; we went to ICew in the afternoon and came home latisb.” “Ah! you left the house in the care of Mere 1-ucaaJ" "Yes.” “Was she at home when yon returned V “No; she came In about ten minutes later. ” He nodded as If he had expected this “Did she say where she had been?” he asked. “She went to see a friend in Soho, I think she said.” "Have you ever seen a friend call upon her here?” “No.” He shook bis head, smiling again, as if he j had expected my reply. “Of course,” he said, "you found no locks broken or anything of that kind)'” “No.” “Well, that is all 1 have to ask you tor the present, 1 think. But 1 need not tell you how important it is that no oue should kuow of this conversation, least of all Mere Lucas." “Why, you dou’t suspect she did It, do youf” I whispered. "No,” he replied, drawing the word out doubtfully, “but 1 feel tolerably certain on one point. There is very little doubt that if you bad gone into the studio before Mere Lucas returned you would have fouud tbe mischief done. Whether she is more closely concerned in this abominable affair I shall be able to tell you when 1 have found out more about that mysteri ous friend iu Soho. And 1 think 1 shall be able to tell you something about him before long. Now, my dear mademoiselle,” be added, rising, “let me warn you again not to let Mere Lucas imagine you suspect her. Try to be just tbe same as usual with her, only keep your eyes open, and your ears also, especially at night!” With this mysterious injunction he left me. “Is it possible that Mere Lucas is the enemy’” 1 asked myself as I sat alone, shivering with nervous apprehension. CHAPTER XVIL MISGIVINGS. 1 was still weighing Kavanagh’s mysteri oils questions and dark insinuations, un able to draw any definite conclusions from the conflicting doubts that agitated my mind, when the door opened and Mere Lu cas came In, her big mouth puckered up with pain and tears running down her cheeks. “What a disaster! What a terrible ca lamity, my poor dear friend!” she exclaim ed, dropping on a chair as If overcome with grief. And then rocking herself backward and forward she whimpered out her grief fa a long chalu of incoherent phrases broken by sobs behind the blue aproo which she held to her eyes It seemed to me as I watched her Impos sible that such grief could be simulated; that any one could summon such a flow of tears from au unfeeliug heart. Hut then I reflected the person chosen by the czar’s agent to execute so dangerous a mission must of necessity be extremely subtle and deceptive. “The beautiful figures all torn down—the whole work ruinedl” she went on. “The work it has taken ao long to make, the pride and joy of my dear masterl 1 would rat her the monsters had beaten me down •nd crushed the life out of me!" I asked myself if Mere Luoas waa not ov erdoing it now. “And to Bay,” abe added, getting the bet ter of her tears and dropping her apron— “to say that I am the cause of it all!” "Does he say sof” I asked quickly. “Ahl I would he had. Look you, my poor dear friend, it is easier to bear blame, when one deserves it, than forgiveness and words of kiudneas.” She burst into tears again as she repeated the words with which Taras bad tried to comfort her. My judgment wavered—it was difficult to doubt tie sincerity of ha emotion. "It is my fault; 1 say it, l!-' sue cnea, striking her breast, adding, with dramatic emphasis, “and it is true! What right had I to leave the house when my master was away? What am I here for but to protect the house and my master’s interests? If it had happened while I was at home, it would have been a great misfortune, but at least I should not have been culpable; no one could have said I suffered the mischief to be done.” "Does any one say so now?” I asked. “Why, it is evident, my poor friend. Any good for nothiug watching bis opportunity might have opened the front door with a bent nail and walked in. And, animal that I am, I did not even look round the place when I came in to see that all was safe as 1 left it." Kavanagh’ssuggestlvequestiorsretunx d forcibly to my mind, and 1 found it was quite conceivable that a crafty person should accuse herself of a pardonable fault to screen herself from the suspicion of an act of baseness. “And to think that this is my fault and that 1 owe everything in the world to that dear master. Our would say that I did it expressly to show that there was no more gratitude in the world,” and the tears starting from her eyes again she rose and went out of the room, whimpering: “Heav ensl i deserve to be turned out of doors, and then what would become of me?” I started, thinking that I bad a key to the mystery in that phrase. Had not the dread of being cast adrift iuduced Mere Lucas to connive at the destruction of the group? If she had been warned of the fatal consequences to Taras, which the produc tion of this work must entail, would she not, for his sake as well as her own, agree to this simple measure for averting such a terrible result? Gauging her disposition by my own, 1 believed she would, and my heurt readily forgave her offense. But though affection for the old woman in dined me to accept this explanation I re solved to watch her closely till I had seen Kavanagb and beard the result or bis in quiry respecting tbe friend in Soho. 1 followed her when she went out shop ping. 1 slept with my door open, and wak ing at a fancied sound crept out in the darkness to listen on the stairs. I discov ered nothing tending in the slightest de gree to confirm tbe suspicion of her com plicity in the outrage; on the contrary, her continued dejection, which the cheerful remonstrance of Taras failed to remove, seemed to confirm the sincerity of her sor row and humiliation. Apparently Kavanagb found greater difficulty than he had anticipated in his in vestigations, for a week elapsed before 1 saw him again. When he went up with Taras into ti.e workshop to see the new group, which was already taking form, I followed with the hope of finding an op portunity of bearing the communication which I thought he might hare to make to me. ‘T shall finish it now," said Taras confi dently, "by the time Cordon's kiln is ready to be fired." "If nothing happens to you or it in the meantime,” said Kavanagb somberly. "it isn’t likely the rascals will try that game on again. If they do, so much the worse for them. They will have to settle accounts with poor old Mere Lucas.” "And supposing, nevertheless,” said Iiav anagh, with a glance at me as he turned to Taras, “|hat this group shared the fate of the last, what then?” “What then? Why, I would begin an other, with a revolver by my side, and never leave U till 1 gave It to the world to protect.” Kavanagb nodded gravely, but made no other comment. For some minutes be stood silently watching Taras as he built up k fold in the drapery with pellets of moist clay; then, recovering from bis fit of abstraction, be looked at bis watch and pleaded an engagement. Taras laid aside bis clay, und despite his friend's remon struuces led tbe way dowu tbe steps to see him to the door. In that moment Kavanagb, turning to me, murmured: “I have something to tell you when 1 get the chauce. But, fer heaven’s sake, don't lose sight of Mere Lucas!” Then he added some commonplace in a louder tone and ran dowu the steps At dinner time Taras said to me: “I am going to smoke a pipe with Gor UUU piCBCUll). ” 111 JUU naia cm* icii tur Adelphi with me?” Nothing would have pleased me more, but with Kavanugh’s warning still ringing in my ears 1 dared not accept the olTer. “liow long shall you stay with him?” I asked, thinking that if the time were not too long Mere Lucies might be left. “A couple of hours or so. too long for you to wait. And I can’t very well ask you to go Up into his rooms." “1 know that.” 1 had almost ceased to be exacting and no longer begrudged Taras the liberty which a man always wishes to feel. “Thank you very much, but 1 think I would rather suty at home tonight.” It was 8 o'clock when Taras started. At 0 Mere Lucas came iu to bid me a lugubri ous adieu, and then I began to listen to the footsteps in the street, though I lead no rea son to expect Taras in for at least another hour. At 10 o’clock 1 went out as uoise lessly as 1 could and looked up at Mere Lu cus' window. There teas no light in the room, but its 1 reached the door of the work shop the window sash was ihrotvu open, and her iieud iu its white nightcap ap peared She had heard me uubolt the back door. "Who is there?" she cried iu a tone of alarm. I told her it was 1, who bad come out to see if the lock which had beeu pul on the workshop door was secure. “My poor little friend,” said she, "do you think I could lie down if f had not made sure of thatf Is It that my good lit tle master has not returned yet?" I told her that I expected him in every minute, and with a mutual “good night” she closed the window, aud 1 entered tu house. I hud left a light In the kitchen. Look tng round I saw that everything was in Its place aud the bright latchkey of the front door, which Mere Lucas used when she weut out in the daytime, hanging ovei the dresser. “Surely." 1 said to myaelf, reassured by these signs, "Kavgnagh haa beeu deceived There la uo necessity to watch Mere Lucas LYON COUNTY TIMES. JOB UFI’AItTltFAT. The most complete country Job Office m the State. All Kla«a ef Work done with Bead* ..... -Btjaa aav Dtapat.h. —AT— Pricks That Defy Competition, tonight.” I returned to the front room to listen again for Taras’ footstep. At rare Inter vals my ear caught an approaching sound, and my heart rose with hopeful anticipa tion, to sink lower than ever when the st ep became sufficiently audible for me to dis tinguish that It was not my friend’s. As the minutes dragged ou my anxiety in creased. It occurred to me thnt Kava nagh’s hint referred to some personal at tack which be had reason to believe would be made upon Taras in the bouse that night, an attack which Mere Lucas was to facilitate by admitting her accomplices when he slept. It might have been agreed that in the event of his going out the at tack should be postponed, iu view of the uncertainty with regard to the hour of Ida return. That would account for Mere Lucas’ present Inactive attitude. After waiting a little while another sup position suggested Itself. What tf the scene of attack bad simply been shifted by Taras going outf 1 had heard rumors of persons being robbed ou the embank ment and thrown Into the river. Taras tuul au infatuation for the embankment, which might be known to his watchful enemies. They might waylay him at some point be tween Westminster bridge and Lambeth and “silence” him in that expeditious way. At that moment Big Beu chimed the three-quarters past 10. 1 strained my ears to catch some other sound, but none break ing the intense silence 1 resolved to end my intolerable suspense by going out to find Taras. 1 slipped off my shoes and ran silently up stairs. From my room I took a small bat and a dark blue ulster, shut the door, and having assured myself by the souud of Mere Lucas’ peaceful breathing that there was certainly no danger iu leaving her 1 descended to the living room Hud in a couple of minutes completed my prepara uon. Not a soul was In sight when 1 looked out. With the key 1 had taken from the kitchen 1 closed the door carefully aud then sped off on my strange mission. The Albert embankment was deserted hut (or a poor wretch asleep under the wall of the hospital. It struck 11 as 1 crossed West minster bridge. Keeping the uortb side 1 hastened along the Victoria eiubuukinent. eagerly scanuiug every figure that came within my range of vision, turned up Vil liers street aud thence on to the Adelphi terrace. A brougham stood before an open door. The driver was doing something to the horse's bit. No one else was to he seen on the terrace. 1 saw him stop to look at me, but as I drew nearer he turned his face and busied himself again with the harness. On the fanlight of the door was written. “Grandison Chambers." It wss there that Gordon bud his rooms I stopped, asking myself what I should do now. The brisk walk had dissipated that part of my anxiety which was due to morbid imagination. It was on my mind to ask the driver of the brougham if be had seen any one leave the house when he cast his eyes around and gave me another furtive look. He was a peculiar looking man, gaunt and unguinly, with deep sunk eyes and hol low cheeks, aud the sidelong glance under his beetling brows was so suspicious and uucautiy that in my nervous, hesitating mood 1 could not summou resolution to question him. 1 walked toward the end of the terrace to settle what course 1 should take, but before I had gone a dozen yards from the door I turned round, impatient of my indecision, with the resolve to speak to the man. Some one had just come from the open door and stood now looking down the terrace in the opposite direction. He turned his head sharply and looked to ward me. It was not Taras. I saw that at the first glance, but the next instant I perceived that it was Kavanagh. I knew him by his slight, erect, military looking figure, bis close fitting coat aud the correct hat drawn low over his brows. He must have seen me and might have recognized me, for 1 stood under the light of a lamp, but as if from indifference or polite discretion ha took no further notice of me, but sauntered to the driver of the brougham, spoke a few words to him, inaudible to me at that dis tance, and then sauntered back into the house. His presence reassured me, and 1 was glad that 1 had neither gone up toGordou’s rooms nor spoken to the driver. Obvious Jy he had dropped in and prolonged the vis it of Taras. Nevertheless 1 could not make up my mind to go back to Lambeth yet. I turned again and walked on to the end of the terrace, where the railings at the cor ner of Adam street screened me. and there I waited. Very soon afterward Taras came out with Gordon and Kavanagh. They stood chat ting for a few minutes; then they shook hands, Kavanagh stepped Into the brough am, and Gordon strolled off with Taras La the direction of Villiers street. The brougham passed me at the corner of Adam street, and the driver cast another furtive glance at me, but Kavanagh waa occupied In lighting a cigarette. t v<Wi. rau.i I h __„___ w..r__ Caveats, Trade-mirks, Design Patent*, CopjrrlghU, An<1 all Patent business conducted for MODERATE FEES. Information and adrlca (Ivan M lareaton wttbOBt cbargo. Addreta PRESS CLAIMS CO., JOHN WEDOERBURN, Managing Attorney, P. O. Box 468* Washington, D. a gyThis Company is managed by a combination of the largest and most influential newspapers In the United States, for the express purpose of protevci* in* tlxelr sabseribrn against unscrupulous and Incompetent Patent Agents, and each paper printing this advertisement vouchee/or the response billty and high standing of tbo Press Claims Company. SUBSCRIBE FOR THE TIMES. THREE DOLLARS A YEAR. CASH IN ADVAaNCE. s