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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, April 30, 1871, Image 2

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Screening his eyes with his hands, Mr. Phan
tom peered anxiously through the darkness,
watching every movement of the mysterious
figure.
He might have run away now, had he so
chosen, but a spirit oi chivalry restrained
bim ; at least, he flattered himself that it was
chivalry.
Who knew what might happen ?
These burglars were invariably terrible fel
lows, who, in pursuit of their purpose, stuck at
nothing.
What it he dared invade that sacred room in
Which the light but just now burnt ?
What if there should by-and-by arise a
scream for help, and he should bo there to
render it 1 There to clasp in bis arms—though
only for a moment—the trembling, fleeing
Nofly, iu her snowy gown I
He would have swum the river—icy cold as
the water was—for a privilege so blissful. He
would have fought his way through fire for a
Single sip of such divine ambrosia I
But the tactics of the stealthy figure were
scarcely those of an experienced housebreaker.
Ho must have seen the dog-kennel fair in his
path, but he took no step aside to avoid it.
“ There’s the dog,” Mr. Phantom whispered
to himself, as he heard the animal’s chain rat
tle ; “ho doesn’t know that there is a dog:
he’d know it presently, the villain. Nero will
pin him.”
But the villain seemed to carry with him a
Charm against the attacks of watch-dogs.
More, he appeared to possess a wonderful
faculty of guessing, at the very first try, the
name of any strange dog he might encounter
in the course of marauding.
As the crouching, creeping figure approached
the kennel, Nero scented him, and uttered a
preliminary growl; but the mysterious stranger
softly exclaimed, “Quiet, Nero, quietl” and the
animal was instantly pacified.
The angry growl gave place to a whine, and
to the sound of impatient scraping of the dog’s
feet, as though it were anxious to reach the
intruder to fondle him.
Still straining his vision, to see all that was
to bo seen, Mr. Phantom could not fail to note
this last-inontioned circumstance, and, as he
. did so, his demeanor altered considerably.
The tony hands that had been shading his
eyes were now clenched vengefully—clenched
so that the notched finger-nails dug into his
palms, while his heavy brows lowered passion
ately, and his upper teeth grated against the
lower.
“ Now I know you, curse you I” he muttered.
“You are not drowned then, you are not
dead and gone to the devil, John Gauntlet, as
I hoped you were 1 you are alive, and you dare
to come here 1”
: And well was it for our hero that the weapon
that Mr. Gauntlet grasped was nothing more
deadly than a gingham umbrella I Had it been
a loaded pistol there would have been murder
done ; Mr. Phantom could not have helped it 1
Still jealously watching him, he saw him
bending low, and cautiously approaching the
house.
Saw him pause at the door, and take from
his breast a something small and white that
looked like a letter, and then he stooped down
still lower, and the white thing had gone out
Of his hands.
“He has pushed his letter in at the bottom
of the door!” said Mr. Phantom.
He saw John raise himself again to his full
height, with his face upturned to the window,
and his hands claspecf together; noted the
agony of the white face and the dumb move
ment of the lips ; heard a moan that was not
the moaning of the wind, and there he was,
with his face resting against a pillar of the
porch, as though some mighty spasm of pam
had seized him, rendering him helpless.
This new and unexpected change m the
strange scene was not lost on Mr. Phantom.
From bis lurking place, his face white with
fury indescribable, looked out and saw it all.
The man of the notched nails was amazed,
bewildered.
What did it all mean ?
i “Curse him! curse him 1” ho muttered
through his close clenched teeth, “ what can
ho want here ? He, a man with a price on his
head 1 A follow, the sight of whom would be
as a hundred pounds down, to any country
booby who chanced to set eyes on him 1 He
must be an idiot—a madman-1 What is his
object ?”
' Not to see Neily Blisset.
Had it been, he would not have been at the
pains to prepare a letter to convey so stealthily
into the house.
i ®He might easily make her aware of his being
there if he bad a mind to.
The window over the porch— her window 1
was not more than eight or ten feet from the
ground ; with a switch broken from a bush, a
tall fellow like John Gauntlet might have
reached it easily.
He might have thrown a pebble at the lat
tice ; there were a dozen ways of rousing her
had such been his desire.
But he availed himself of not one of them.
He still stood against the pillar of the porch ;
his great frame convulsed with the great grief
that was wringing him, helpless to do aught
else.
“There’s a pretty specimen of a man!”
snarled white-faced Mr. Phantom, crouching
in the mire, “this is your high-spirited John
Gauntlet, the fellow who once said that 1 was
no better than a faithful mongrel who did his
master’s bidding. This is the noble fellow,
and ho comes here sniveling and whining like
a wayside cadger 1 This is the man who stands
in iny way.”
And cadaverous Joseph, blinded by jealousy
to his own ridiculous appearance, cast up his
eyes under the brim of his limp and saturated
hat, and indulged in a haughty sneer that made
him appear more old and wrinkled than ever.
“ There is one thing,” said he to himself,
‘l'll have.that letter as soon as ”
But there his speech failed him. ‘
The curtain ol the little window over the
porch was swiftly drawn aside, and there again
was Nelly Blisset.
She had heard “the moaning that was not
the moaning of the wind,” and her quick eyes
piercing the darkness, she saw the form that
leant against the pillar.
An instant to fling a gown and shawl about
her and then, ere he had time to escape, she
sprang down the stairs, and opening the outer
door swiftly and noiselessly, clasped his
drenched and haggard figure in her arms.
“My darling 1 my darling 1 my poor outcast
love 1”
“Oh, Nell! My dear, true little angel. It
was not for this I camel I did not dare
hope •”
But his drooping head was hugged so closely
to her bosom that his speech failed him and
gave place to half stifled, heart-wrung sobs
while still holding him close, she kissed and
kissed him, and softly said—
“ Hush, bush 1 my poor boy, hush 1”
, Although her own voice faltered and was
Well nigh melted to speechless bliss in her rap
ture at seeing him, holding him once again.
Mr. Phantom crouching down to the wet
grass like a venomous toad, witnessed all this.
Low as were these spoken words of endear
ment, his madly jealous ears were quick to
hear them, and ho ground his teeth m impo
tent fury.
“Curse them! curse them both!” he mut
tered, under bis breath, as in his insane rage,
ho grasped in his bony hands clods of earth
and wet grass as though to hurl them at the
objects of his hatred ; but m an instant he al
tered his tone, and his growl became a pitiful
whine as he continued : “No, no, I can’t curse
her. I could not, even though she spurned me,
spat on me. No, no, I can’t curse you, Nelly,
my idol, my torment, my terrible enchantress ;
but him I can. He shall not triumph. I’ll
bring bim down ; 1 have the power, and I will
do it! Yes. and ah the while I will pretend to
be so good a friend that when ho is gone, you
shall come to me, and for consolation lay your
darling head—your pretty curly head, sweet
Nell, on my breast, my fatherly breast, he, he 1
and we will mingle our tears and -”
It was the sound of John Gauntlet’s whisper
ing voice that roused him from his delirious
rhapsody.
“Nay, my darling, you ask me what I no
more dare consent to than kill you here as you
stand,” said he, evidently in reply to some
softly spoken entreaty of hers. “It could do
no good, poor birdie. It could do nothing but
harm to you and all those wo hold so dear.”
“But I shall die if you again go array from
me,” wailed poor Nelly, still clasping him about
the neck and passionately kissing his cold
cheek (the sound sent a cold thrill through Mr.
Phantom’s veins); “my heart grows so cold,
my darling, as I lay awake through the long
night m doubt and dread, that it seems it must
presently stand still!”
“ That is my^great trouble I” returned John,
earnestly. “For myself, dear Nell, so that I
could clear my name of the terrible stain that
my enemies iiave cast on it, I care nothing at
all; it is of you lam always thinking. I say
tomyselt, ‘Bless her heart, she is so crave and
true, she will be so jealous of a word or hint
even against me that she will become a com
mon topic in the mouths of malicious gossips
and sneerere,’ and I picture you, my sweet
Noll, so cruelly served, and all for my sake, and
feel at times that it would be bettor if I ”
“What, John?” Nelly asked, eagerly, as the
poor fugitive gulped back a word he was about
rashly to give utterance to.
■“That it would be better if we bad never
met, my love,” said he.
“Ay,., but that is not what my poor boy was
about to say,” returned Nelly, her unsteady
voice suddenly growing firm'. “I don’t ask
you to repeat the. terrible words ; my quaking
heart tells me what they would have been but
too . plainly. John, you are not so brave as I
thought you ; not so strong. Your burden is
too heavy for you to bear, my dear, persecuted,
• innocent love. You must let mo share it with
you.”
“How share it, Nelly? Do you not al
ready ”
“ Aye, but that is not enough. You yourself
just now said that youj' anxiety for me so far
away from you, was your great trouble. This
must no longer be, my betrothed, my darling,
who, in heart and soul, are already my hus
band. You will retrace your steps to your
place of hiding, dear John, but you must take
me with you!”
,< “The devill” muttered Phantom; “that
would indeed be a nice turn for affairs to take.”
- John Gauntlet, too, was not a little taken
aback by her sudden demand.
■i “My noble little woman!” said he, folding
her more closely to his bosom ; “it should not
in the least astonish me to hear you taik so,
but it is quite impossible. We must not be
Selfish in our love, my darling; th’ere are ach
hearts beside ours iu this unhappy busi-
ness-hearts that are as one with j our own as
is mine—hearts that would break if you were to
do as you suggest. Your father, my Nelly;
your mother! Think of them, dear lass 1”
“I do—l do,” Nelly replied, mournfully; “I
think of them as much as I can, but you are
my one thought, John. It may be selfish ;it
may be wicked, but pray, pray, forgive me; for
I cannot, cannot help it 1”
And she sobbingly clung to him, as though
her poor little heart would break.
“It is I who need ask forgiveness of you,”
he returned distressfully; “it is cruel of me
to stay a moment longer. It was rash, more
than rash, for me to venture hero, but I dare
not send by any other hand the few poor words
of comfort I wished to convey to you. Now
you have them in my letter, and from my own
lips as well, and I will return as I came.”
“Without mo?” And she looked beseech
ingly up into his face.
“It must be so, my darling."
“Ahl you are afraid that I should embar
rass you! but I wouldn’t, dear; I wouldn’t. I
only want to be near you, John. I would creep
into your hiding-place, and lie as still as a lit
tle mouse. I’d sit by the door, darling, all the
night through, and keep watch while you slept.”
“Good by! Good by! I cannot—dare not.
God bless you, Nell. Now let me go, and pray
for my next safe coming.”
“ You are quite resolved ?” she whispered,
after a pause.
“It can be no other way, darling.”
“ Why, then I must part with you?” she con
tinued, in a strangely altered voice, a voice with
so much of desperation in it that Mr. Phantom,
shrewd man of the world as he was, shrugged
his wet shoulders, and grinned a ghastly grin.
“Shall you walk straight back to London,
John?”
“ I shall walk back as far as Deptford, and
to a little inn there where I halted on my way
here, and rest for a few hours,” he replied.
“It isn’t a grand place, Nelly,” ho continued,
with some sort of bitterness In his tone ; “a
common lodging for tramps and that sort of
folks, so I shall have no difficulty in obtaining
admittance, late as it will bo.”
“ And what, dear, is the sign of the little
inn ?” she asked'
Mr. Phantom raised his saturated hat well
clear of his ear, and craned eagerly forward.
“ Why do you ask, Nelly?” John Gauntlet
asked.
“ Because—because I should like to think of
it, since its roof will for one iUght at least give
my dear love shelter.”
“B at for one nigh t ? yes, but for one night, ”
returned John, as though that fact gave him
impunity to tell her what she asked, “Itis a
strange sign, my darling—the ‘ Willow Weav
ers.’ ”
“The ‘Willow Weavers,’’’ repeated Nelly,
slowly. “ I shall bear it well in mind.”
“The ‘Willow Weavers,’” muttered Mr.
Phantom, under his breath. “I’ve no great
memory for tavern signs, but shall recollect
that, never fear.”
“ You will keep a brave heart, dearest,” said
John, making a desperate effort to speak cheer
fully, but not succeeding very well.
“ I will most earnestly pray for one, dear
John, for I shall need it very much.”
Again that mysterious tone of determination,
that seemingly was lost on John Gauntlet, but
in which Mr. Phantom read such deep mean
ing.
“ And wo will meet again soon, Nelly.”
“ Aye, that we will.”
And she uttered the words with such perfect
confidence, that, as though afraid of arousing
her lover’s suspicions, she hastily added:
“ I have a presentiment that we shall meet
again, dear John, soon—very soon. It is that
which makes me so courageous to bid you fare
well.”
“ Farewell, then, dear Nell.”
And then one close embrace, one long, ling
ering kiss —that was long-drawn torture for
the enemy crowding under the hedge—and
then they parted.
Tho hapless fugitive passed within a few
yards of Mr. Phantom’s quaking, skulking fig
ure, and luckily for the latter, without observ
ing him.
With his head drooping on his breast, and
without daring to look back, he hurried away
into the wind and the rain and the darkness ;
but Nelly Blisset, all scantily clad, stood there
at tho porch until he had quite vanished from
sight.
“ Now God give me strength, and assist me
in my desperate venture 1”
Very softly she uttered these words, and
with her hands clasped and her eyes raised to
Heaven.
But Joseph Phantom both saw and heard,
and he rubbed his icy cold hands together in
satisfaction, while the germ of some new dev
ilish design shone in his deep-set eye.
“ She won’t start for half an hour yet, that’s
certain. She would be afraid of overtaking
him else,” be muttered. “ That will give me
time to get back to tho Hall and shift my wet
clothes. Ugh! they stick to my bones like the
skin to a snake. But there’s warmth ahead,
warmth and lasting, loving comfort, if I’m
careful; if I’m prudent as well as daring.
Good by, beauty, for a little time. Good by,
cherry-lipped sweetheart.”
And the poor old dotard rapturously kissed
and waved toward the chamber in which the
light once again appeared his great white paws
with the notched nails.
CHAPTER XVIII.'
AT THE OLD INN.
The “Willow Weavers ” was an ancient and
not highly respectable hostel on the Kent Bead,
as Woolwich was approached
A huge, rambling pile of building, in more
prosperous times a flourishing posting-house,
but now little better than a common lodging
house for tramps and wayfarers.
The “Willow Weavers” was not a public
house that was supervised by the police with
undue severity.
There are scores of such houses in and about
London.
So long as tho publican does not too glaring
ly defy the law, its officers are content to see
and say nothing, on condition that no obsta
cle is thrown imt’lieir way, should it be neces
sary to require the arrest of a lodger.
Dilapidated, however, as was his establish
ment, ths proprietor of the “ Willow Weavers”
had no reason to be dissatisfied with his busi
ness, and on the night when John Gauntlet
paid his melancholy visit to Blisset’s mill, the
“large room” was well filled.
Sunday night though it was (or rather the
early hours of Mouday morning), the company
assembled were hilarious, and song-singing
tho order of tho hour.
And well enough could tho motley assem
blage afford to be jolly, and empty their glass
es, and rap loudly on the battered table for
them to bo instantly replenished.
Tho orgie cost them nothing.
A gentleman present was generously stand
ing a night’s treat to all comers.
The gentleman “ in the chair,” to whom the
landlord was so humbly attentive, was a gor
geously attired personage.
He wore a shooting-coat of plum-colored vel
veteen, with gilt buttons that glistened in the
gaslight; a crimson plush waistcoat, about the
front of which were displayed the hanks of a
resplendent silver watcli-chain, while on his
head, elegantly adorned with oily “sidelocks,”
as black as jet, was jauntily stuck a white hat,
of costly texture.
It was the reader’s old acquaintance—Black
Lutterloh 1
The gipsy half-breed was faithful to his old
instincts in the days of his prosperity.
At a single stroke—a stroke that involved
the sudden covering up of his repulsive coun
tenance with a gray mask at a sort of drawing
room entertainment, to use his own words—he
had “made a fortune.”
Reginald Viport was his banker.
On tho memorable occasion indicated, Mr.
Lutterloh had demanded a hundred pounds as
being “ qnough just at p*esent,” and his re
quest had been complied with without a mur
icur.i
Ever since, he had been “enjoying himself”
to his heart’s content.
He had been to London, where, in certain
shady parts, ho had many friends, and bad
made.the money fly to the amazement of all of
them.
Now, he was returning to his “nativeparts,”
and having a,shrewd idea that he should find
at the “ Willow Weayers” a considerable num
ber of his bosom friends and old acquaintances,
he had made it his halting-place.
With what result, the reader had already
seen.
He was a gentleman now, conld afford to do
the handsome thing by ’em, and might some
thing dreadful happen to his eyes and limbs if
he wouldn’t do it.
He had done it. Since nine o’clock, a score
or so of choice spirits, after his own heart;
had, at his expense, sat indulging in ardent
spirits, and in singing jolly lays of rogues and
highwaymen, and all was merry as Wedding
Bells.
Mr. Lutterloh, too drunk to be any longer
ferocious, was becoming sentimental.
With the white hat jerked over bis right eye
further than ever, he bad contrived to balance
himself on bis legs to make a speech, in which,
with tears in his eyes, he thanked the gentle
men present for the honor they had done him
in drinking his health about five and twenty
times each all round on that auspicious occa
sion.
“It goes to my ’art to do,” continued Mr.
Lutterloh, plunging his great hairy hand in at
the bosom of the scarlet plush waistcoat, “and
I feel at this ’ere moment as if I had a enemy
wot was as savage agm me as a mad dawg, I
could say: “ Give us yer paw, my brother, and
I’ll forgive yer.’ But I hain’t got no enemies.
I never does nothing wot’U make ’em; I’m that
soft-hearted ”
at this moment, thero was a commotion
at the room door.
“I would rather not go in—l’m wet, tired ; I
would much rather go to bed, if you will allow
me.”
“You may go as soon as yon like, when you
have had a glass. It’s all free, you fool. I
would’nt show a cross-breed among ’em, if I
was you.”
And then a man was pushed in, and the
door slammed to.
A man, ghastly pale, and with his wet hair
hanging abouUns face.
A man, from whose saturated clothes the
rain ran in tiny rivulets, and who looked for
lorn and miserable indeed.
The “ Willow Weavers” were in a mood to be
hospitable, and the fire was at Black Luttor
loh’s end of the room.
NEW YORK DISPATCH,
“ Why, you are like a drowned rat, man,’
bawled one of the company. “Come this way
and dry your jacket, and wet your in’ards 1”
But something affected tho worthy chairman.
Since the entrance of the stranger, he had
not once taken his eyes off him, and the longer
be looked the faster the liquor he had imbibed
seemed to evaporate.
“ I’ve had enough of it for one night,” ho
growled, as he slunk out of the chair of honor.
“ I shall be oft ; I—l didn’t know how drunk I
was.”
“ But you must drink the last comer’s good
health, brave captain. It wouldn’t be manners
to leave him out. You surely won’t have it
said now, for the first time, that Black Lutter
loh shirked his liquor.”
Tho landlord was at the other side of the
room as he spoke, but Lutterloh made him a
swift sign, which tho other was not slow to
comprehend.
“ The worthy captain’s had enough,” said he,
suddenly altering iiis tone. “Our noble pres
ident, gentlemen, has got his skin full, and de
sires to go to his roost. He leaves orders,
however, that you may all have an hour’s more
drinking, as hard as you like.”
And, pretending to be completely intoxicat
ed, Lutterloh, hanging his head so that the
new comer might not see his features, stag
gered out of the room, the landlord accompa
nying him.
The latter led the way to a side room that
was still dirtier than the one in which the half
drunken company was assembled. •
It was a small room, with a window partly
shaded by a blind of red stuff, and lit by a dim
gas jet.
Tho only occupants of the room before Lut
terloh and the landlord entered it were a
tramp, who, having roiled intoxicated off his
seat in the adjoining apartment, had been
dragged in there and flung on the floor to sleep
himself sober, and a woman.
A beggar woman, who, bundled on a seat in
a corner, with her arms resting on the table
before her, and her face hidden, appeared to
be outweariod and asleep after a long journey.
“What’s amiss, old fellow?”, tho landlord
asked, curiously. “ Your having had enough
is ali a sham, you know ; a child might see
that. You look as scared as a scouted rabbit,
man!”
“Well, the fact is, I do feel a bit queer,” re
turned the gipsy. “ I’ll be oft’, 1 think.”
“ Off! Off to bed you mean, of course.”
“ No, I don’t. I mean off and away from this
place. I—l don’t like your company, man.”
The landlord opened his eyes, and whistled
softly.
“You don’t like the company, old boy?
Shall I tell you the member of it you don’t
like?”
“If your tongue wants exercise, you may,”
replied the other, surlily; “we ain’t quite
alone, remember.”
“We’re as good as alone. I’ll answer for
Barney here, and as for tho woman, she’s sound
asleep, anyone may see. Now, between friends,
what’s up, Lutterloh ?”
The beggar woman must havo been dream
ing, surely.
How else could the sudden start she at that
moment made be accounted for?
But the two men had their backs to her, and
did not perceive it.
The gipsy faced the landlord with one of his
eyes screwed close, and his broad finger laid
against tho side of his nose.
“ Did ever you go to school ?” he asked.
“Certainly; why?”
“Do you recollect ’em ever setting you a
writin’ copy, ‘Mind yer own business?’ ”
“ Can’t say as I do; they was civil people
where I went to school,” returned the landlord,
with a scowl.
“ So am I civil till I’m riled,” returned Lut
terloh, “ and there’s nothing riles me so soon
as any one poking their nose into my business.
Take the reckoning, my friend, out of this fl’
pun’ note, and I’ll bid you good-night.”
“ Good mornin’, you mean; d'ye know the
time, man ? It’s nearly halt-past one.”
“ When I want to know the time of you, I’ll
ask it,” returned Lutterloh, impatiently, as he
buttoned his coat. “ Hang you, give me my
change, and let me go, I tell you 1 ”
And growling and shrugging his shoulders
discontentedly (for he had made sure of de
taining his profitable customer many hours
yet), the landlord took the note and loft the
room.
CHAPTER XIX.
A FBESH PLOT.
As tho landlord left the room, Lutterloh took
his handkerchief from his pocket, and with it
wiped his forehead, that was reeking with per
spiration.
“ Curse him 1 What tho devil brought him
here ?” he muttered. “Is it chance, or is there
a meaning in it ? I’ll be off, anyhow. It gives
me a queer feeling of tightening of the shirt
collar to be within sight and sound of hyn.”
The beggar woman was not asleep.
Lutterloh’s back was to her, and she had
raised her face, which was hidden by a thick
old vail, as though she had an interest m his
words.
“Is it still raining, I wonder ?” said Lutter
loh ; and, to see, he approached the window
and suddenly raised the red curtain.
As he did so, he uttered a cry that caused
tho beggar woman to raise her head entirely.
No wonder that Black Lutterloh uttered that
cry*!
A miracle had happened!
As he lifted the curtain, he thrust his face
close to the window pane, and there, at the
other side of the glass, within an inch of his
own, was another lace!
A man’s face!
A face he knew well and dreaded.
It vanished the moment be saw it, but the
recognition was mutual and unmistakable.
Tho landlord returning at that instant found
his generous customer deadly pale and trem
bling.
But he suddenly recovered his presence of
mind and his ferocity as the host of the “Wil
low Weavers ” entered the room.
He made a spring at him and had him by the
throat before three might be counted.
“What’s this?” he exclaimed, in a voice
hoarse with passion; “isit a plant? Is it a
trap ? D’ye think to nab mo, and I won’t have
a fight for it? Call’em in! Call’em in, and
see.”
“Call ’em in! call who in? Leave go my
throat, you drunken madman,” gasped the
landlord, “you’re choking me—help!”
Lutterloh’s passion was but momentary.
Nobody camo, and ho presently released the
affrighted landlord.
“I—l’m better now.” he growled; “it’ll be
the death o’ me one day—the cursed drink!
I felt the fit cornin’ on me while I was in t’other
room. Keep the change, master, for the
squeezing I gave your throttle. Now I’ll be
off; the cold rain and the wind’ll do me good.”
And, without further parley, lie hurried out
of the house, muttering as he went:
“ It was only my fancy ; it couldn’t be him.”
Outside, and as far as the darkness would
permit him to see, the coast was clear.
“Ha! ha! it’s all right 1” but my eyes, what
a scaring it gave me I I’d as soon just now
meet the devil himself as—hallo !”
Had it been his Satanic majesty in person
who suddenly rose before him, Mr. Lutterloh
could not have started more guiltily.
it was Mr. Joseph Phantom.
Disguised to a miracle, but stiff unmistaka
bly tho wily steward of Monkshood Hall.
Instead of his customary tall hat, he wore a
slouched countryman’s cap, and a stout water
proof coat and leather leggings. He carried a
walking-stick, too—stout, and of peculiar make.
Not less astonished than the gipsy was he
when he peeped through the window and saw
that ferocious swarthy face so close on the
other side.
The fact was, Mr. Joseph Phantom was off
the scent somewhat.
As the reader has already been made aware,
shrewdly suspecting Neily Blisset’s determina
tion to follow her betrothed, he had hurried
back to Monkshood Hall, to shift his wet clothes
and assume a disguise.
But he had miscalculated the time.
He could not believe that, in the little time
it had taken him to equip himself for the jour
ney, Nelly could have reached and passed the
cross roads, and there he loitered half an hour
at least.
At last he was driven to the conclusion that
she must have passed before he came up, and
he set out on his long, miry tramp.
The “ Willow Weavers” was easy enough to
find; but Mr. Phantom knew the character of
the house, and he prudently paused ere he
ventured in to make a few inquiries.
It was wmlo he was thus reconnoitering that
he chanced to spy through the window and
make the discovery already indicated.
“Don’t be alarmed, my friend; there’s no
cause, unless you yourself make it,” remarked
Mr. Phantom, taking care to keep the width
of the horse trough between himself and tho
gipsy.
It was several seconds ere Black Lutterloh
could recover his speech.
‘“What’s the meanin’ o’ this, master?” he
said at last.
“ Hush 1 walls have ears, they say, and why
not horse troughs and sign posts?” returned
Mr. Phantom, with a gnu that showed his
teeth. “ You are wanted, Mr. Lutterloh, that
is all.”
“'Wanted!” returned the gipsy, with a
startled look round and a savage scowl—“ who
wants me ?”
He looked so threatening that Mr. Phantom
started back and as he did so, the end of his
walking-stick struck the ground, and out
sprang a gleaming little sword blade of six
inches long or so.
“J want you, my friend,” said he, blandly.
“I’ve come many miles to find you, and I took
the precaution to bring this little instrument
with me, knowing what an uncertain tempered
man you are.”
“I’d twist it out of your hand and spit you
with it like a herriu’ if you forced me to it,”
growled Lutterloh, contemptuously; “and
mind yer, I’ll do it, too, if you are after playin’
tricks. Let's ’have it out quick, now. What
do you want with me?”
“You’ll be more civil when you hear I’ve
come to do you a service.”
“You!”
“Aye. I’ve come to warn you.”
“Of what?”
“Danger. Those who are hunting after
John Gauntlet as the murderer of Joel Burke
are on the wrong track.”
Black Lutterloh started, but in a moment
answered with his acmiatomed dogged inso
i lence.
“Put ’em on the right track, then, and bag
the hundred pounds they are offering as a re
ward.”
“ That is my intention, my friend,” returned
Mr. Phantom, coolly, and with his finger on the
spring of the sword stick.
Black Lutterloh again glanced about him, as
though finding it difficult to believe that this
mere pipe-stem of a man would have the dar
ing to approach him on so dangerous an er
rand, unless ho had assistance close at hand.
But lie did not lose his coolness.
“Well, what’s it to do with me?” he asked.
“What sort of‘service’ do you do me by a
cornin’ and a consultin’ me about what don’t
concern me ?”
Mr. Phantom nodded complacently.
“So that’s the ground you mean to take,
eh ?” said he.
“Why not?”
“You mean to fight it out to the last, in
spite of all tho evidence that may be brought
against you—l beg'your pardon—against the
man who murdered Joel Burke.”
At tho word “evidence,” Lutterloh turned a
shade paler.
“Evidence!” said he. “What d’ye mean?”
“Not much. Do you always smoke over
your work, my man ?”
“Smoke over my work?”
“Aye, you must be a cool customer to
smoke over a job like that. How came you to
drop your pipe ?"
Lulterlon turned paler still, and grasped tho
edge of the horse trough for support. 3
He had lost his pipe.
As the reader will perhaps remember, at that
time when he advised the sinking of John
Gauntlet’s blood-stained coat in the pool in
the wood, he had, tom tho screen of a bush
close at hand, beheld the deed accomplished,
and that m order that bis tobacco smoke
might not betray his place of hiding, he had
taken his pipe from his lips and laid it by his
side.
His favorite little black pipe, with the metal
lid, and on the inner side of which his name
was scratched.
Only a day or so before, Mr. Phantom, in his
restless searching after a clue to the murder
mystery, had taken a walk through tho wood
and discovered the pipe.
Thero was not much in the discovery, but
Mr. Phantom had thought it worth while to
treasure it.
“ Let’s be reasonable,” spoke Black Lutter
loh, presently, in a conciliatory tone; “let’s
take a walk down the road, where nobody can
overhear us.”
“And where nobody can see us—where no
body can see you put into execution the ugly
threat you just now used toward me, eh ? No,
thank you, my friend, I prefer staying where I
am. I’ve business here."
“What! here at the Weavers?” asked Lut
terloh, in amazement; “ why, what can a gen
tleman like wot you are want with anybody wot
uses the Weavers’—unless ”
“What?” asked Mr. Phantom, as Black Lut
terloh paused, with strange meaning in his
eyes ; “ out with it man—unless what ?”
“ Unless you got business with him."
Mr. Phantom nodded.
“With them both,” said he, iu a whisper.
“Both!”
“Aye, with Gauntlet and the poor girl whose
wretched infatuation has led her to follow
him,” and Mr. Phantom cast up his eyes and
endeavored to look virtuous-
“You needn’t pretend to look astonished,”
he presently remarked, sharply, to Mr. Lut
terloh. “ You confess to knowing that he is
here.”
“.Aye, but t’other,” replied the gipsy.
“ She’s here, too.”
Lutterloh opened his eyes wider than ever.
“No I”
“ I say that she is, and that you know it.”
“ That’s a lie!” said blunt Lutterloh ; “ and,
if she is, why, good luck to her then, I say—
good luck to anybody as she sticks up so
staunch lor!” and the ruffian clinched his ex
pressed approval of courage and devotion in
womankind by an oath 01 tremendous force
and power.
But Mr. Phantom did not entirely approve
of Black Lutterloh’s sentiments.
“You wish good luck to John Gauntlet,
then ?” said he, sourly ; “ that being the case,
our interview may at once come to an end.
You arc a more gallant fellow than I took you
for, my friend; you appear to forget that luck
for him means a halter for you 1”
A vindictive scowl, that the other did not
perceive crossed Lutterloh’s face, and alter a
few moments he drew Mr. Phantom to the
shadow of tho wall.
“I begin to see my way a bit clearer now,
master,” said he; “let us have no more beat
ing about tho bush. The bad luck wot’s over
took him, ain’t bad enough; you’d havo it
worse.”
“My goodLutterloh,” returned the man with
the notched nails, brightening up considera
bly ; “so far we understand each other; go
on.”
“ No, you go on,” returned the other, blunt
ly. “ How much of bad luck, and what quality
of it, would you like to fall on him, master ?”
“What is the worst luck that can befall a
man, my friend ?”
“ Being knocked on the head by another man
who he thinks is going to betray him,” replied
Mr. Lutterloh, meaningly. “I don’t know a
wusser late than that.”
“ Except it is hanging,” suggested Mr. Phan
tom, pleasantly.
“ Aye ; hanging ain’t a good end,” growled
the gipsy. “Don’t let’s talk about it.”
“It wasn’t your hanging I alluded to, my
good follow,” replied Mr. Phantom, “ but John
Gauntlet’s.”
“ Who’s to hang him ?”
“ You.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I don’t mean that you are to put tho
noose round bis cursed neck with your own
fingers, my friend. I don’t think I should like
to trust you ; your nerves might fail you at the
last moment. No ; what I mean is, for your
own sake—for all our sakes—you must put him
in that road, the last stage of which is the
hangman and tho gallows.”
Black Lutrorloh’s brow lowered.
“ You mean to say that I must peach on
him 1”
“ That, I be'icve, is the correct term, accord
ing to your polite vocabulary,” sniggered Mr.
Phantom, rubbing his hands.
“Give him over to the police for—for •”
“For the murder of Joel Burke, the game
keeper 1”
It would have dismayed Mr. Phantom not a
little, could he have read Mr. Lutterloh’s
thoughts at that instant.
“ I should be a hundred pounds in pocket by
it, shouldn’t I ?” said he, in a low voice.
“To be sure you would,” replied Mr. Phan
tom, delightedly ; “you might claim it as stre
ly as asking change for a bank note.”
“ And, I dessay, you would stand a summat
handsome ?”
“I am not a rich man, my friend ; and, real
ly, the affair would benefit you much more than
any one else, but—well, I dare say that I might
find you a twenty pound note or so, Lord bless
me I a hundred and twenty pounds, and all to
earned by five minutes’ talk with a policeman !
What do you say, my friend ?”
“ I say that I’ll see you first.”
Mr. Phantom stood aghast.
“ And why not, pray.”
“For private reasons ; don’t you ask ques
tions,’ replied the gipsy, cunningly.
“You’d rather he did a similar kindness for
yon, eh ?” answered Mr. Phantom.
“ No fear of that.”
“ Don’t be so certain. What took him to
Monkshood to-night ?”
“What, John Gauntlet to Monkshood!” and
Lutterloh stood still, incredulous.
“Aye, to Blisst’s mill, to seek a private inter
view with the good folks there. To what end
do you think, my friend ?”
“’it’s all a he,” said Lutterloh. “I don’t be
lieve he’s been there at ali.”
“Shall I describe to you his disguise? You
have seen him, and will judge if I am right or
wrong.”
And he accurately enumerated the articles of
attire in which the fugitive was dressed.
Black Lutterloh preserved a moody silence.
“He wouldn’t have wentured there if he did
not think things was brightening for him,’’said
he, presently.
“You may rely on that" returned Mr. Phan
tom, emphatically.
“ And there ain’t no question, that wot’s
bright tor him is black for me.”
“ You are growing to be quite a philosopher,
my friend,” and Mr. Phantom rubbed his hands.
“ You eay that you saw him—did he speak to
you ?”
“Never saw me, never raised his eye to look
at nobody.”
And Black Lutterloh narrated the way in
which Gauntlet had been forced into the drink
ing-room.
Mr. Phantom reflected for a few moments.
“If you didn’t possess such ridiculous re
spect for the fellow, the way would be easy
enough,” said he.
Black Lutterloh laughed.
“I’ve got my likes and my dislikes,” said he,
“ but this is the party wot I’ve got most re
spect for.”
And he slapped his broad chest with his
hand.
“It might be done that quiet and easy,”
continued Mr. Phantom, as though not heed
ing what the other said, “ that, taking all the
circumstances into consideration—all of ’em,
mind you—there’s not a coroner’s jury in the
whole kingdom but would bring it in suicide.”
“What! the giving of him up? How the
could they bring that in suicide?”
“Pshaw!.for a bold man you are very short
sighted,” returned Mr. Phantom, with good
natured pity; “ a wise hunter never starts for
the chase with buha single arrow in his quiv
er ; if one misses its mark, he has another re
maining.”
And Mr. Phantom thrust his hand in at the
breast of his coat, as though there and then
he intended to produce the arrow he had been
speaking of.
But it was not a steel-tipped and feathered
instrument that he drew forth.
It was only a tiny screw of blue paper, no
bigger than the top of a man’s thumb.
“ What’s that ?” Lutterloh asked.
“A sleeping powder, my friend,” replied
Joseph Phantom, with a devilish grin.
“It’s p’ison, ain’t it?”
“Deadly poison, my dear sir. This little
dose, dropped into his beer, into his coffee, or
anything else he may be drinking, and there’s
a certain end to his being able to tell tales.”
Mr. Phantom held out tbe tiny paper, but
Lutterloh hesitated to take it.
“What can be more natural?” urged the
man of tbo notched nails. “Hero is a man
hard driven and desperate; rather than endure
the torture that an evil conscience brings to
every one, ho chooses to make an end of it
with a dose of poison.”
‘•l’d do it,” said Lutterloh, with an oath.
“Give it here!”
“ When will you do it, my friend ?"
“ When ? Soon as I find a chance. P’r’aps
to-night.”
“It would be best done to-night. How shall
I know?”
Black Lutterloh reflected.
“If it is done to-night, it will be within half
an hour,” said he; “and I’d stick a little bit of
the blue paper wot it’s wrapped in on one of
the panes of that there window that you
looked through. If you don’t see the sign an
the time that I say, you may know that the
job is unavoidably put off till the morning.”
“Yes, yea, I understand. Anything else?”
“No —yes; s’pose we change hats. He’ll be
less likely to know me with that old slouch of
yours pulled over my eyes. 'l'hat’s the ticket;
now I’m off”
Mr. Phantom still lingered.
“Youare quite sure chat she is not there?”
he asked.
“Who? Miss Blisset? No, she ain’t there;
that I’d swear.”
“You think that you must have seen her had
she been?”
“ Certain sure of it.”
Mr. Phantom nodded his head contentedly.
“That’s as well, under the circumstances,”
he muttered, and then aloud he wished Black
Lutterloh good luck, and assured him that he
should be on the watch.
“She hasn’t come, that’s evident,” said he,
as he walked briskly down the road. “ 1 made
a mistake; a 1 ucky one, though, by Satan and
all his angels I—a lucky one.”
But there was somebody on the watch be
side Mr. Phantom.
The beggar woman who was sitting in the
little room that overlooked the road when
Black Lutterloh and the landlord held their
interesting conversation.
(To be continued).
We gUelmm
AN OFFICER CHARGED WITH LARCENY.
It seems to us that there should be a little more
discrimination in the taking and entertaining of
complaints against policemen, at headquarters. Mere
supposition should not be made the bases of a com
plaint ; facts should accompany the accusation. It is
true that in the charge preferred against Officer Ed
ward Maloney, of the Fourth Precinct, the complain
ant was positive in bis accusation. He swore posi
tive; two men, one of them disinterested, swore to
the contrary. It was just such a case that a police
justice wouid not issue his warrant on, and if a magis
trate would not issue a warrant for arrest, why put a
policemen on trial to publicly disgrace him, and tend
to bring the department into disrepute? The facts
in this extraordinary case are these: Francis Par
sons, a resident of Troy,’ came to this city and went
on a spree, got dead drunk, so much so, that when
Maloney picked him up he had the appearance of an
ash box turned upside down. When taken into the
station-house he was searched twice by order of the
sergeant, in front of the desk, and all his valuables
were taken from him. After that, Maloney, with the
assistance of the doorman, Mr. Morrissey, consigned
Parsons to a cell. Going into it, Parsons says he
was slid into the cell very gently, and Maloney as
gently slid his hand into his pocket and relieved him
of his wallet containing S4O. Now the points in this
case to be considered are these: The officer takes a
man into the station-house so drunk that he cannot
protect his person; under such circumstances could
ho protect the property on his person ? He is taken
to the station-nouse, and is searched a second time
by order of the sergeant, who is looking on. True,
the officer might hava put his hand in the
pocket, and drawn it out again without taking
out the wallet and not be seen. But the
man is so drunk that he has to be locked up,
is put in the cell by two officers, oue takes the
pocket-book, and he feels it taken, the other does
not see it, ho makes no remonstrance either that
night nor next morning, to the sergeant when his
property is restored to him, nor at the police court.
Had ho stated the case to the court, there would
have been an immediate examination; but he does
not do that, and only makes tfi-.s charge of larceny at
Headquarters against the officer. Any thief arrested
could do tho same thing. The complaint should
have been made against tho officer for grand larceny,
if anything; for, if the officer was dishonest, he
should have been sent to the State Prison. Dis
charged from the police, he would still be with us,
and a dangerous member of society, if a police jus
tice would not eniertain Mr. Parsons’ charge, why
should the clerks at Headquarters entertain such a
complaint that only tends to dishonor the man,
when, from the beginning, it is evident that an ac
quittal must ensue, as it will in this case ?
A QUEER ACCUSATION.
Delmars, Grien and Colton do duty in the Fifteenth
Procinc- 1 , so does Sergeant Haggerty, when he does
not have the gout. The officers aforesaid were on
reserve in the station house, and they asked a two
hours leave of absence to go to tho Globe Theatre, to
witness the “Smuggler’s Doom.” While there on
their two hours leave, a fire broke out in the Twen
ty-eighth Precinct, and not hearing the alarm, they
did not respond to the call, and hence they were ab
sent. Haggerty, strange to say, after having granted
leave of absence, made complaint against the officers
for being absent. The cases, of course, were dis
missed, and the sergeant himself was reprimanded.
A DUMB SKYLARK,
Mr. Daniel Carpenter is patrolman in the Fifteenth
Piscine , and Mr. David Bolger is doorman of the
stalion-house. As is customary, the doorman, at
seven o’clock in the morning went up to waken the
section, and Carpenter, being rather sleepy-headed,
Bolger took carta n liberties to bring him to his feet.
This brought about a muss, which Sergeant Holbrow
down below heard. One voice said, “Let mo alone;”
another, “ Let him alone.” When he went up to the
roem, they were in a dumb struggle on Carpenter’s
bod. but the sergeant’s presence immediately ended
the scuffle, 'lhe funniest part of the proceedings
was, that though witnessed by a whole section of
men. none of thorn heard a word spoken. They all
described it as a dumb skylark. Green’s testimony on
the dumb tun of the two, is a fair specimen of his
brother officers’ evidence. He said:
“ Bolger came up to call us ior breakfast, and Car
penter and Bolger got a skylarking; but I didn’t
hoar an angry word.”
“What is skylarking?” asked Commissioner Bos
worth, very innocently.
“Playing,” replied Mr. Green, with the same air
of innocence.
“Pulling one another around?” asked the Com
missioner.
“Yes, sir,” replied Mr. Green, very confidently.
“Why did you interfere if they were only skylark
ing?” asked the Commissioner.
“I thought they might got in earnest, and I sepa
rated them.”
“ Well, if I understand it,” said the Commissioner,
“ they were clenched, and were down, and they had
no angry words, and you separated them, and this
you call skylarking ?”
Green gave an affirmative answer. What the de
cision of the Board will be on this dumb skylarking,
it is impossible to guess. The case was referred.
STUPIDITY.
Campbell, of lhe Second Precinct, could not be
found on post by the roundsman, his post being Nas
sau from Spruce to Liberty street. The post was
eventually covered by another officer. The excuse
set up was that he su posed his post included Spruce
street, and that he must have been there when the
roundsman was searching tor him. A man that g es
out to do patrol duty, and does nut know the ground
that he is to cover, is not much of an officer to trust,
and so the Board will decide on reviewing the testi
mony.
HUNTED DOWN.
Gallagher, of the Fifth Precinct, close on to twelve
o’clock, sent in to an oyster saloon thirty cents for a
box stew. Waiting and finishing the oysters on the
sidewalk, he was altogether twenty-five minutes in
front of the saloon. The saloon folks were about
closing up, but they had a sort of Daniel Lambert
customer asleep in a chair. The boss tried to get
him up, s > did all the waiters, and they failed, and
swore a forty ton power jack-screw couldn’t lift him
on his feet. They then called Gallagher in to help
wake up the human leviathan. He did so, and com
plaint was made against him. When the saloon was
shut up, he walked, and talked, and joked fifteen
minutes with the proprietor about the heavy joker
that had been expelled. For this, a second com
plaint was made against Gallagher. Both charges
were referred to the Board.
HAS A HARD ROAD TO TRAVEL.
Three complaints were made against Ryan, of the
Fourth Precinct, which ought to swamp him. It ap
pears—at least, he says so—that he was chasing
soma boys at seven in tho morning; and, in the run,
he fell, and got a biack eye. Ashamed to natrol the
streets with a discolored eye, he went into a coal
office, and there sat down, intending to wait until it
was time to be relieved; but the roundsman caught
him, when ho played sick, and was sent to the sta
tion-house. The captain sent him home, and the
surgeon to visit him. As soon as the surgeon saw
that ne was only laboring from a black eye, he or
dered him to tho station-house to report for duty.
When he came back, and went on post, the captain
searched in vain for him, and could not find him for
two hours. Ryan claimed to be on his post, although
tho captain, a sergeant, and an officer, who was put
on it, could not find him. TllO case was referred to
the Board.
Fair play.
Judge Bosvrcri?. very properly remarked, that in
some cases rcundsmer. ’.a looking for men, should
rap on going u'.o : o ; post. It seems each captain
instructs hi'; nui: according to his own ideas. Some
of the capta.ns tell their roundsmen to go over the
post once beiore rapping; others order rapping lhe
moment it is struck. On that point a general order
should be issued. If a man has two sides of a street
to patrol, and the officer should be down in a base
ment trying a door, why may not the roundsman
and patrolman very easily pass without seeing each
other? The rap should, by all means, be given. If
an officer cannot hear that, he couldn’t hear the cry
for help, audit would then be good evidence that lie
was not attending to his duties, and would justify
dismissal from the force.
DEATHIN THE PULPIT.
The Rev. Benjamin Eaton, first and only rector of
Trinity Episcopal church, Galveston, Texas, was
stricken with death while standing in his pulpit last
Sunday. The Galveston News thus describes the
affecting scene:
He ascended the pulpit. Announcing his text,
“There is yet room,” all trembling beneath the
weight of his last message, he referred to one after
another of the friends of his youth, and the com
municants of his church that had gone before. He
painted Death entering the church door, passing up
the broad aisle, laying his hand to the right and left,
breathing his cold, clammy breath on the cheek of
beauty, and watting the silver hairs of age. Now
touching the father, then the son; here the mother,
there the daughter, as the spectre, so plain to his en
tranced vision, advanced to the chancel-rail, and as
he saw that his time had come, his words struggled
for utterance. He faltered. His weakening limbs
staggered. A gentleman who advanced to his assist
ance, was waved back. For ten minutes more, he
spoke, his words only audible to those near him.
The excitement of the audience was fearful. Three
times he struggled to continue, saying:
“ I am very sick, but I must say.”
Again he staggered. He fell into the arms of Mr.
C. B. Hughes, as he raised his hands to pronounce
the benediction. Like Moses, that other servant of
God, lie “was too weak to hold up his hands, which
was done by Mr. Hughes, as he Baid his last words:
“ To God, the Father.”
His tongue refused to speak further; his hands
dropped. He was carried tn the rantxirv. where he
died.
FEARFUL TRAGEDY.
WIIE-SHSBr.A MB SUICIDE-A
BLOODY BIVO’aCE.
(From the San Francisco Call, April 20.)
Yesterday afternoon, about six o’clock, a
fearful tragedy was enacted at tho foot of Ber
nal Hights, in the immediate vicinity of the
intersection of Howard and Twenty-seventh
streets, in a little hollow distant about one
hundred yards from any dwelling.
THE PARTIES
who figure in the bloody tragedy are Charles
Petersen, a native of Sweden, thirty-six years
of age, and his wife Adelia, born in Ireland,
twenty-two years of age. About four and a
half years ago the persons named were mar
ried, and lived together quite happily until
within a year ago, when Petersen’s conduct
toward his wife changed, and instead of being
a kind and dutiful husband, ho abused her to
such a degree that she found herself compelled
to apply to one of the district courts to separ
ate the legal ties which bound her to her hus
band. The ground set forth in the complaint
was extreme cruelty. Yesterday afternoon Mrs.
Petersen came into town to attend to the suit,
and by agreement was
TO.MEET HER HUSBAND
at the office of a lawyer, where they were to
talk about some matters relating to the di
vorce. He, according to his agreement, came
to the place designated, and found that his
wife had not arrived; and, after waiting for
some time beyond the hour set, left the prem
ises, and returned to his home on the Bernal
Hights, and inquired if his wife had arrived.
Being answered in the negative, he left and
walked toward a small bridge near Twenty
seventh and Howard streets, and about half a
mile distant from his house, whore he
WAITED FOR HIS WIFE.
About six o’clock, Mrs. Petersen stepped off
the Howard street cars at Twenty-fifth street,
and walked toward her home, and when cross
ing the small bridge already alluded to, she
met her husband, who stopped her and spoke
to her. What was said between them will
never be known, for the one who addressed the
words, and the one to whom they were spoken,
are now both still in death. At tho time, a
German, named Schultz, was passing by, and
had his attention attracted by hearing a loud
CRY OF “ MURDER 1”
Turning round, be saw the man having hold
of tho woman with his left hand, while in his
right he had a bright, glittering knife uplifted,
and was in the act of striking down. Schultz,
instead of going to the woman’s assistance,
ran off in an opposite direction, without giving
an alarm. What transpired, after the cry for
help was given was not seen by any living
person, but circumstantial evidence goes to
show that Petersen stabbed his wife six times,
'and then walked about one hundred paces
from where she fell and drove the bloody knife
into his own heart. Within a few minutes after
the husband met his wife, Mr. Michael Skelley,
Superintendent of the North Beach and
Mission Railroad, happened to drive along the
road leading from the bridge, and was horri
fied to see lying on the road, the bloody and
wounded body of a woman, and a little dis
tance off that of a man. He dismounted from
his buggy, and discovered that they were both
dead, but that they were still warm. The man
held firmly clasped in his right hand, which
lay by his right side, a sharp dagger, covered
with blood, and on which was etched, “who
buys me will never repent it.” He at once
notified the neighbors, and then informed the
coroner of what he had discovered. The coro
ner’s clerk at once proceeded to the scene of
the tragedy, and by the time he reached there
a crowd of at least five hundred persons had
collected around the dead bodies, which were
placed in separate coffins and conveyed to the
dead-house, where a hasty examination re
vealed
THE NATURE OF THE WOUNDS
inflicted upon the woman. There was one
stab in the left cheek, the knife having glanced
downward and fractured the jaw bone, three
stabs in the left breast a little to the right of
and below tho nipple. These stabs penetrated
the heart and must have produced instant
death.
THE NEIGHBORS
In the vicinity of where this frightful tra
gedy was enacted speak m the highest terms
of Mrs. Petersen, representing her as a kind
mother and a dutiful wife. She leaves three
children and an aged mother to mourn her un
timely taking-off.
Beautiful Contißueus Gum
SETS OF TEETH.
STOBER PLATE, WITH PLUMPERS, §l9.
Extrastiug Under Gas Without Charge,
When OtJiers are Inserted.
DR. BODINE. No. 190 Grand st.
GST Post Office ISotiee.—The Mails for
Europe, during the week! ending Saturday, May 6 187?,
will close at this office on Tuesday at-11% A. M., on Wed
nesday at 12 M., on Thursday at 12 M., and on Saturday
at 11% A. M. P. H. JONES,
. Postmaster.
SIT Dopartmeat Of Taws and Assess-
MENTS, No. 32 Chambers street, New York, Jan
uary 2, 1871.—Notice is hereQy given that the Assessment
Rolls of the Real and Personal Estate of tho City and
County of Now York, for the year 1871, will be open for
inspection and revision, on and after Monday, January
9th, 1871, and will remain open until the 30th day of
April,,lß7l, inclusive, ior the correction of errorsand the
equalization of the as essments of the aforesaid real
and personal estate of the City and County of New York.
All versons believing themselves aggrieved must make
application to the Commissioners during the period
above mentioned, in order to obtain the relie i provided
by law.
GEO. TI. ANDREWS, ) Commirsioners
TT-TOS. J. (REAMER, I of Taxes
WM. H. KING, f and
NATHANIEL SANDS, J Assessments.
inswap
DR. J. A. SHERMAN.
ARTISTIC SURGEON,
respectfully offers his services in the application of h’u
RUPTURE CURATIVE APPLIANCES,
at his office,
, 697 Sfi’cadwy, corner Fourth Street.
The great experience or Dr. SHERMAN, resulting
from his long and constant devotion to tho treatment
and euro of this disease, assures him of his ability to re
lieve all, without regard to tho ago of the patient or du
ration of the infirmity, or the difficulties which they
may have heretofore encountered in seeking relief. Dr.
S., as I rincipal of tho Rupture Curative Institute, New
Orleans, for a period of more than fifteen years, had un
der his care tho worst cases in the country, ail of which
weie effectually relieved, and many, to their great joy,
restored to a sound body.
None of the pains and injuries resulting from the use
of other trusses are found in Dr. Sherman’s Appliances;
and, with a full knowledge of the assertion, he promises
greater security and comfort, with a daily improvement
in the disease, than can be obtained of any other person,
or in the inventions of any other Person in the United
States,
Prices to suit all classes. It is the only as well as the
cheapest remedy over offered the afflicted. Photographic
likenesses of cases before and after treatment furnished
on receipt of two three-cent stamps.
I?OR THE PILES.—DR. UPHAM’S
1 ELECTUARY and OINTMENT are a certain cure
lor Piles, Gostiveness, Liver Complaint, and Dyspepsia;
also, for all cutaneous diseases and affections of the skin.
These medicines can be obtained and the Doctor con
sulted at his Medical Office, No. 39 East Fourth street,
third door from the Bowery, and between Bowery and
Broadway. Office hours from 7 o’clock iu the morning
till 9 in the evening.
A MYSTERY SOLVED.—Fifteen min
utes private conversation with Married Ladies
bv one of their number. Sent free for two stamps. Ad
dress Mrs. H. METZGER. Hanover, Pa.
KfO PAY UNTIL CURED.
Av DR. and MADAME WEbT cure at one in
terview. Their French Pills never fail. Rooms before
and during confinement. No. 141 West 40th street.
Dr. hunter can be consulted
from 9 m the morning till 8 at night, at his office,
No. 56 Bond street, New York city. 40 years’ practice.
Charges moderate, and a cure guaranteed. Sceptics and
doubters will please call and read hundreds of reliable
certificates of cures made within the last 40 years; many
were old chronic cases that dozens of eminent Physi
cians had failed to cure. Separate rooms, so that the
patient sees no one but the Doctor himself. His won
derful medical discovery, known as Dr. Hunter’s Red
Drop, cures certain diseases when all other remedies
fail; cures without dieting or restriction in the habits of
the patient; cures without the disgusting and sickening
effects of all other remedies; cures in new cases in less
than six hours; cures without the dreadful consequent
effects of mercury, and possesses the peculiarly valuable
property of annihilating the rank and poisonous taint
that the blood is sure to absorb unless his remedy is
used. This is what he claims for it, and what no other
will accomplish. One dollar will secure by return mail
his medical work. 300 pages, 40 colored pictures. Worth
all the others put together. Advice by mail, and medi
cines promptly forwarded. Utmost secresy observed.
SPECIAL NOTICE LADIES.—
Ladies,have you been unfortunate-are you in tro able
—do you needjnedical treatment ? If so, how very impop
tant it is that you should be careful in the selection of a
physician. There are those who may promise relief, but
never give it. Such only take your money without giving
you an equivalent. The the female system
are so complicated, that no one without a thorough and
practical knowledge of all its peculiarities should ever dare
to treat anv of its derangements. To successfully treat
female complaints, it requires a morethorough knowledge
of anatomy and physiology tnan any other specialty.
For twenty-five years, Doctor H. D. GRINDLE has
made female complaints a specialty, successfully treat
ing all cases; therefore, age with experience can be
relied upon. Our treatment, which is always safe and
certain, is endorsed by the highest medical faculty, and
unknown to all others. Let those who have been de
ceived and maltreated by medical pretenders, whatever
their complaint, or from whatever cause produced, make
us a visit. They will soon see the difference between
science and presumption. AU consultations are strictly
private and sacredly confidential; and patients at once
feel themselves at home. Patients see the doctor in per
son, privately. Office central, yet retired. No. 129 West
Twenty-sixth street, near Sixth avenue. Elegant rooms,
board. &c„ for those who require nursing.
A certain Cure for married
Lidies, with or witneut medicine, by Madame
RESTELL, Professor of Midwifery; over 39 years’ prac
tice. Her infallible French Female Pills. No. 1, price sl,
or No. 2, specially prepared for married ladies, price #5,
which can never fail. arc safe and healthy. Sold only at
her office, No. 1 East Fifty-second street, first door from
Fifth avenue, and at Druggist’s, No. 152 Greenwich
street, or sent by mail. Caution—All others aro coun
terfeit. /
VSTE ADVISE ALL SUFFERERSTO
JJ. con ®ult DR. LEWIS; he guarantees that none
shall leave his care until cured and rvr.tored to sound and
mgorous healtxi. ills o lice is at £(o. 7 Beach street. near
Vest Broadway. New York city.
Sunday Edition. April 30 <
tojj, £ ■
I ONE THOUSAND DOL-
A 440 * or case of the follow- \
mg dis ases which the medical fa- ,
nn?q JSII S .. G 9, LDEN REME- / \
DlLo will not radically cure. Dr. Bi-/ |
chau s Golden Balsam No. 1 will cure I
Syphilis mils Primary and Secondary \ j
stages, such as old Ulcers and Ulcer- \ /
ttted Sore Throat, Sore Eyes, Skin
Eruptions, Soreness of the Scalp, and
all stages of the disease, eradicating diseaseand mor.
Prl £? i 53 l"”-bo‘t’e. or two bottle?*?
Dr. Richau s Golden Balsam No. 2 will cure the third
riifM tertiary Syphilis, whore Syphilitic and Mercu
rial Rheumatism are connected with the Primary and.
Secondary. I have hundreds of certificates where mi
raculous cures have been effected by these remedies
Patients ea« and drink what they like, and require no
out A a . r(l applications. Hundreds suffer from Syphilitic
and Mercurial Rheumatism who are not aware of it
? ucb to obtain a radical cure without the use
?» i w Its beneficial effects are felt at once.
™ « men from hospital beds in one week, who
♦ 1 . 1 !? re yo: l r 3 onder tho boat practitioners ia >
St v?± d q A v.’ nl, D a s llc^r Cur9 for tho worst dis ~
Price -® 5 -P er b ° ttie ’ ° r tw ° bot -
Dr. Richau’s Golden Antidote, a safe, speedy, pleasant
and radical cure for Gonorrhoea, Gleet, Irritation,
Gravel, and all urinary derangements, accompanied with,
tall dmectious. Warranted to cure. Price $3 per bottle.
nr. Richau s Golden Elixir d’Amour, a radical cure
for Spermatorhoea, General Debility in old or young,
in A. v lV l,lty imparting energy with wonderful
ettect to those who have led a life of sensuality or self
abuse. It is invaluable to those who are anxious for an
increase in family. Nothing more certain in its effects,
it is composed of the most powerful ingredients of the
vegetable kingdom, harmless, but speedy in restoring
Ho. Pr v ??, r hottie* or two bottles for $9.
Tiade supplied ata liberal discount.
Un receipt of price, these remedies will be shipped ta
any part tree from observation ; correspondents an'
severed confidentially ; hours for consultation 9 A. M.tu
i^ M, ’ri ono £ enu i nQ without name of Dr. Richau’s
Golden Remedies. D. B. Richards. Sols Proprietor.
Diown m glass of bo'tles.. Observe well trade mark on
outside wrapper and written signatures on inside label.
New l Yor^city’ N °’ 228 Vdric ’ x B tr^ t «
Send money by express, or order Goods sent O. O. D.,
through your Druggist, and you will meet with no loss.
Ladies cured of the leucholT
RHOEA, or Whiles, by new remedies, safe and
sure. All diseases of the Os Uteri, or Womb, cured.
£ or J. adies - Call on or address Dr.
MANOHES, No. ?35 Broadway, N. Y.
DR. HUNTER’S BOTANIC CORDIAL
is the only positive and Specific Rf.mkdy
for all suffering from general or sexual debility, all de
rangements of the nervous forces, melancholy, sperma
torrhoea, or seminal emissions, all .weaknesses arising
from sexual excesses, or youthful indiscretions, loss of
muscular energy, physical prostration, nervousness,
weak spine, lowness of spirit’, dimness of vision, hyster
ics, pains in the back and limbs, impotency, &c.
No language can convey an adequate idea of the imma
almost miraculous change it occasions to the
debilitated and shattered system. In fact, it stands ur.-
rivaled as an unfailing cure of the maladies above men
tioned.
Suffer no more but try one bottle; it will effect a cure
where all others fail, and although a powerful remedy,
contains nothing hurtful to the most, delicate constitu
tion. Price, Five Dollars. No. 56 Bond street, neat
Book of 60 pages gra t is.
DR. LEWIS, AUTHOR OF THE “MED
ical Companion and Guide to Bealth,” No. 7 Beach
street. Those who apply in the early stage of dis
ease will be surprised at the ease and rapidity of the
cure. Forty years’ private practice.
F ADIES MAYBE CERTAIN THA.T MY
jLj Drops are only certain medicine they can
Certain immediately. Dr. Thompson, No. 22‘Ann st.
R. G. B. BOND, No. 196 ELM ST.,
between Broome and Spring streets, can be con
sulted on all diseases of a private or delicate nature, by
ladies or gentlemen. Certain relief guaranteed to all.
Lidiea’ Pilis, No. 1, $2 a box; No. 2, Snpar-Coated and.
Stronger, $3. Drops. $2 a vial. Invigorating Cordial,
for gentlemen, $1 50 and $3 per bottle. Gents’ Pro
tectors, two for ;$3 a dozen. Ladies’ Protectors, $3
each. Tne doctor and son will keep on hand a full sup
ply of Family Medicines. Roots, Herbs, Toilet Articles,
Perfumery, and all of the best Patent Medicines of tha
day.
T ADIES IN TROUBLE SHOULD CON
JLJSDLT DR. PERRY. Guarantees certain relief at
one interview without inconvenience or danger. Terms
reasonable. No fee unless cured satisfactorily. Medi
cine to order, $5. No. 51 Bleecker st., near Broadway.
SPECIAL NOTICE TO MARRIED AND
SINGLE LADIES. The most wonderful, reliable,
and certain remedy, as well as always healthy, for mar
ried or single ladies, in removing obstructions and sup
pressions, has proved to be the celebrated PORTU
GUESE FEMALE MONTHLY PILLS. Thousands
of ladies have used them with infallible certaintv. Read
what the best physicians testify in respect to them:
“ A woman appiled to be treated for suppression. It
appeared that she had been subject to irregularity, or
stoppage, and as she appeared to be free from the usual
symptoms attending pregnancy, it was not supposed
that the stoppage arose from that cause. She com
menced using the PORTUGUESE FEMALE MONTH
LY PILLS. After using them about five days—from
certain indications—suspicions began to be enter
tained that the suppressions might nave arisen from
pregnancy, which, upon examination, proved to be tha
case—too late, however, to prevent the result. In a short
time it took place, and on about the third day after, she
entirely recovered, with but little comparative incon
venience to her general health.” They never fait Cer
tain and healthy. Price $5.
DR. A. M. MAURICEAU. Professor of Diseases of
Women, Office, No 129 Liberty street. Sole Agent and
Proprietor for upward of twenty years. They are sent
by mail, in ordinary letter envelopes, with full instruc
tions and advice.
DR. PERRY, No. 51 BLEECKERi ST?,
near Broadway, can be consulted by ladies or gen
tlemen in trouble. Immediate relief guaranteed in all
cases. Charges moderate, and no fee unless satisfac
torily cured Office strictly private. Board, nursing,
&c., if required. Hours., 9to 9; Sunday, 2 till 5.
pARD TO THE LADIEsT— DR?
ASCHER, No. 3 Amity Place (continuation of
Laurens street), invites those ladie3 who are in trouble,
and who have obtained no relief, to oall and consult with
him. No pay required until cured, anl perfect satisfac
tion jjiven. The most skeptical can be convinced and be
satisfied that all they require can be accomplished. Eie
gant rooms for iauies requiring nursing. Terms rea
sonable.
TLfADAME VANBUSKIRK. Physician
A* Ji- and Midwife, can be consulted at No. 42 St. Mark’s
place, near Second avenue. Having had twenty-five
years* experience in the treatment of all female com
plaints, she can guarantee cure when all others fail. Her
remedies are safe and sure, and always give immediate
relief. Pleasant rooms and board for those from a dis
tance. Consultations at all hours.
Notice —dr. lewis, So? 7 beach
street- near We t Broadway, can be consulted daily,
from 9 A. M. to 8 P. M.. and on Sundays, from 10 A. M.
to 12 M.
DR.~IIUNTERS gonnorhea spe-
UIFIU cannos be equaled ior curing quickly and
most effectually. One Do. Lit. No. 56 Bond street, noar
Bowory. Open 9A.M.to BP. M.
DR. HUNTER, 56 Bond street, 40 years
practice, the only physician in this city who cures
without leaving a taint in tiie blood. Botanic Cordial
ior Nervous Debility. Impotence, Loss of Power, Ac.
Five Dollars. A sure cure. Sent bv express to any ad
dress . Advice gratis. Open 9A.M.t08 P. M.
BROADWAY IS Dr. MANCHES’
fi only office. Nervous Debility, Impotence,
a d p:i/ate diseases cured by new and sure remedies.
Romm privato. Call or write for New Book; (sent free,
seald.)-
riiliE NEW RING self-adjusting
a French Protectors for-gentlemen, as 25c., 3L., 59c.,
each; 3 for sl, 4 for sl, $3, and slperdcz. Ladies*
new style Protectors at .?2 and $3 each. Call or address
DR. MANCHES, No. 7c5 Broadway, N. Y.
A SPECIAL ADDRESS TO THE
NERVOUS AND DEBILITATED,
WHOSE SUFFERINGS HAVE BKEN PRO
TRACTED FROM HIDDEN CAUSES,
AND WHOSE CASES REQUIRE PROMPT TREAT
MENT TO RENDER EXISTENCE DESIRABLE.
Reader, this article may not cencern you at ail. If you
have never suffered from disease of the organs of genera
tion, su. h as Spermatorrhoea, Seminal Loen's, Involuntary
emission, it is not necessaiy for you to read this. If you
are suffering or have suffered from Involuntary Dis
chingen, what effect does it produce upon your general
health? Do you feel weak, debilitated, easily tired?
Does a little extra exertion produce palpitation of tha
heart ? Does your liver or urinary organs or your kidneys
frequently get out of order? Is your urine sometimes
thick, milky or flocky, or is it ropy on settling? Or
does a thick scum rise to the top ? Ora sediment in tha
bottom after it has stood a while? Do you have spells
of short breathing or dyspepsia ? Are your bowels con
stipated? Do you have spells of fainting, or rushes of
blood to the head ? Is your memory impaired ? Is your
mind constantly dwelling upon this subject? Do you
feel listless, moping, tired of company, of life? Do you
wish to be left alone—to get away from everybody ? Does
any little thing make you etart or jump? Is your sleep
broken or restless? Do you discharge drops of semen
before or after making water, or during your stool, or at
night? Or have you become impotent; lost all feeling
for the opposite sex? Do you often feel ashamed of
yourself, thinking that everybody that looks at you knows
what is the matter with you ? Is the lustre of your eye
as brilliant? The bloom on your oaeek as bright ? De
you enjoy yourself in society as well ? Do you pursue
vour business with the same energy ? Do you feel as
much confidence in yourself? Are your spirits dull and
flagging, given to fits of melancholy ? If so, do not lay
it to your Liver or Dyspepsia. Have you restless nights ?
Your back weak, knees weak, and have but little appe
tite, and you attribute this to Dyspepsia or Liver Com
plaint ? Did you ever tell your doctor that you had prac
ticed masturbation, or that you had suffered from badly
cured gonorrhea, or syphillis, or from veneral excesses?
Perhaps you never thought of confiding those things to
him; and if youhad.it is a question whether his mod
esty would have allowed him to question you closely on
the point for fear of offending you; and if he had ex-
E acted any thing of the kind, being your family physician
e durst not for the world have hinted at tho thing, for
fear of your becoming indignant and insulted.
Now, reader, self-abuse, venereal diseases badly cured,
and sexual excesses, are all capable of producing a weak
ness of the generative organs. The organs of genera
tion, when in perfect health, make the man. Did yon
ever think that those bold, defiant, energetic, persever
ing, successful business men. are alwajs those whose
generative organs are in perfect health? You never
hear such men complain of being melancholy, of nerv
ousness, of palpitation of the heart. They are never
afraid they cannot succeed in business; they don’t be
come sad and discouraged; they are always polite and
pleasant in the company of Jadios. and look you and
them right in the face—none of your down looks or any
other meanness about them. Ido not mean those who
keep these organs inflamed by running to excess. These
will not only ruin their constitutions, but also those thef
do business with or for.
How many men from badly-cured private diseases,
from the effects of self-abuse and excesses, have brought
about that state of weakness in these organs, that has
reduced the general system so much as to induce almost
every other disease—idiocy, lunacy, paralysis, spin 1 af
fection, suicide, and almost every other form ol disease
which humanity is heir to, and the real cause of the
trouble scarcely ever suspected, and have doctored for all
but the right one.
TO THE YOUNG, MIDDLE-AGED, and even OLD.
who are destroying tneir Physical Strength and Mental
Happiness by their uncontroled passions, or who aro al
ready weakened and impotent by the folly of the past,
why do you suffer when you must know the sure result if
you allow the disease to ruin and debase you, mind and!
body? If yon would avoid this diseaso, which renders
marriage improbable, or the married life a failure, ba
warned in time, and let no false modesty keep you from
making known your troubles and receiving a surs and
lasting cure. I have cured THOUSANDS, and will you, if
you call in season. A short time under mv treatment
will make you a new man and send you forth into tha
world an honor to your sex, and, I trust, a blessing ta
mankind. ALBERT LEWIS, M. £>.,
Author of the Medical Companion and Guide ta
Health.” can be confidentially consulted at his old es
tablished office, No. 1 BEACH STREET, near West
Broadway, New York. Forty years’ private practice.
Office hours from 9A.M. to 8 P. M. Sundays, from
10 A.M. to 12 M.
(Copyrighted.)
Nervous and physical debili
ty and all other special diseases scientifically and
successfully treated by Dr. LEWIS, No. 7 Beach street.
No case undertaken, or fee accepted, unless a cure can bo
guaranteed. Forty years private practice.
MANHOOD: HOW LOST, HOW RE?
STORED —Just Published by DR. LEWIS, (254
Pages, Second Edition.) THE MEDICAL COMPAN
ION AND GUIDE TO HEALTH, on the radical cura
of Spermatorrhoea, or Seminal Weakness Involuntary
Seminal Losses, Impotency, Mental and Physical Inca
pacity, Impediments to Marriage, etc., and the Venereal
and Syphilitic Maladies, with plain and clear directions
for the speedy cure of Secondary Symptoms, Gonor
rhoea, Gleets, Strictures, and all diseases of the skin,
such as Scurvy, Scrofula, Ulcers, Boils. Blotches ana
Pimples on the face and body. Consumption. Epilepsy,
and Fits, induced by self-indulgence or sexual extra?-
a^ine e *celebrated author, in this admirable Treatise,
clearly demonstrates, from a forty years’ successful prac
tice, that the alarming consequence of self-abuse may
be radically cured; pointing out a mode of cureatonco
simple- certain, and effectual, by means of which every
sufferer, no matter what his condition may be, can ba
effectually cured, cheaply, privately, and radically.
This Book should be in the hands of every youth,
and every man in the land. .
Sent under seal, in a plain envelope. Price, 50 cent*
Address. DR. LEWIS, no. 7 Beach street. New

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