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FOR HER- A LOVE STORY. WRITTEN BY NARY ANGELA DICKENS. GRANDDAUGHTER OF THE NOVELIST. *.w- ATHERINE, you really are a terrible §/£.-' person! Doyou know tbat you've nearly '|]V^ walked me to deatU .'" __.-___ It was late iv the afternoon of a doll November day, not a pleasant time for walking, certainly In Loudon or anywhere else lor that mailer. Nor are those London streets whicii consist of "good houses" particularly cheerful spots to walk after dark, since passers-by are few and far between, and the lighting arrange ments of the most feeble description. Ou ibis particular evening the pavements were muddy, Ibe air raw and disagreeable, aud altogether the two ladles who were walking along at a brisk pace would have seemed more in their proper place in a hansom cab. They were both of them well and handsomely dressed, and had a general air about lhem of belonging to that class which does go about in hansom cabs on the smallest provocation. The lady who was addressed as Katherine, who was walking with a curious air of satisfac tion In tbe sense of movement and of oblivion of her suiiotiudiiigs, started as her companion spoke. "Nonsense. Eleanor," she said, "you caul be really Hied. We have not done so very much." It was a strange voice, rather deep than most v.. men's, with a ring about It thai seemed lo In dicate an unusual strength of characier, accus tomed, unconsciously perhaps, to dominate w hei ever It touched. Uui It was uol a bard voice— very far Iron that. It was wonderfully musical and sympathetic, aud the impulsive way iv which she spoke deprived her words of any touch of harshness. "Mot. much," echoed her companion. " not done much! My dear Katherine, are you absolutely uutiratile? We've ouly been out since 1 o'clock, and we've not sat down at all except iv shops. I never knew any oue so rest less " - They were curiously restless eyes Into which the speaker was looking, though the rest of the face was steady enough, and Mlss Uiabauie's voice is she answered was very genlle. "• 1 am sorry, Eleanor.* Have 1 really used you up?- Well, heie we aie. and some lea will do you good, wont it '." We'll have it—" •"-•-- She stopped abruptly. They were just going up the sieps of a well-Kepi bouse, and as she spoke the door was opened suddeuly and a man came out— a tall man, with a seu.luve, haggard face and deep black eves, winch might have been very hue It it bad not been for a certain strange expression ot desperate craving which seemed lo lurk in them. As he saw the two la dies he, too, started violently, and his lips whit ened and contracted suddenly and very curious ly, lie came quickly down Uie steps toward lhem. , , "Mlss Grahame," he began. In a voice which was al once eager and restrained, " I was afraid I should miss you altogether. I called about an houi ago, and I— l thought 1 might wait. How no you no. Mrs. Adderiey?" this to lhe other lady, whose maimer and countenance bad changed, apparently ai the sight of him, trom its expression of plaintive amiability to one of uu ea-v. and indeunil* dislike. , "How do you do, Mr. Leigh?" she said coldly, and he turned again to Miss Grahame. •May 1 - may I enure back later ou," he said, "In ab.iul au hour?" "Wont yon come in now?" The deep voice was low and very sweet, and Mrs. Addcrley's face as -!;-' heard it giew colder aud colder still. "Mrs. Aii.ieiiey and 1 have been shopping to gether, and now she lias come back with me to have some lea; wonl you come In again and bave some, too?" "Not vow, thank you," ha said, always with that strauge undertone In bis voice. "I nave au appointment, Lu' II 1 m ay come back—?" "I shall be very glad"; she hesitated a second aud then gave him her baud and passed uu Into the house. Ii was not a large house; as Miss Urabame bad no near relatives and lived there alone there was no reason why it should be. But it was beaut dully fuuu-hed. and the drawing room In which tea was waiting for the two ladies presented a picture of dainty comfort, at the she 111 ii which .Mrs. Adderiey gave a heavy sign relief ll was delightfully lighted by several .softly shaded lamps, and a sweet, faint of flowers filled tin- warn air. but a strange shadow seemed to have falllen between Miss Grahame aud her visitor. For some minutes neither of them spoke. Miss l, icchanie had given her bat aud cloak to her maid and was standing by the lea-table pouring out the lea. with a curiously preoccupied ex pression In those restless eyes of hers. Wonder ful eyes they were— and deep and changing, not only In expression, but absolutely in color, almost with each thought that passed through ber mind, lor the rest her face could ha. illy ie called beautiful, the lures were uoi sufficiently r giil.ii. Uui no oue who looked a. it ouee could fail to look again aud again. It was always very pale, not with the pallor of 111-iieallh, but with a natural whiteness, agaiust which the daik, delicately penciled eyebrows, and long curling eyelashes, showed even darker iliau they really were. The lips were full and firm, and about the whole face, even In repose, there wasaeuitous suggestion of latent passion sod power. She was a woman of about two or three and thirty, She rooted hersell at last and turn ing suddenly lo .Mrs. Adderly, almost as though she had toigollcu her presence, made some triv ial remark about their afteruoou's work. But Mrs. Added did not answer her. She was sip- ing her tea. with a serious and rather doubtful expression cf countenance. -Kalheiine," she began tentatively— " Kath erine, 1 waul lo say souieihiug to you." Into Miss Giahame's eyes there flashed a quick . ox of anticipation, but sbe did noi luru away he head as she answered apparently care ies-ly iioogh. "Why not say ll then, Eleanor?" Mis. Ad dei ley hesi.ated, "I— l— am rather— Katherine, 1 don't know how it is, when we're sucb old ii lends, and lam married and you are nd, but— l'm atrald of you. Will you promise Hot lo he— annoyed?" .Mis- Giahame laughed. "Poor Eleanor," she said, "1 did uol know I was so alarming. Sup pose we talk cf something that isn't likely to rouse my evil passions?" Theie was au undercurrent of meaning In the voice, aud Mrs. Addeil y paused. Then sbe went ou with, for her, quite unusual determina tion: "I must say It, Katheiine; I can't help It— l'm sure you know what 1 mean. 1 cannot bear io tee you encourage Gallon Leigh." There was a silence, Una of those beautiful lithe white bands of Ml.ss Graname's lightened round the carved arras ot ber chair until tho I n.-uce must have beeu absolute pain. . "II . 1— encourage— Caltou Leigh?" "Kalheiine! You know you do! And I can not bear to s*e It." "Why not." Mis. Addei ley apparently did not find it par ticularly easy to answer this question. Sue flushed faintly, and stole a glance al ibe face— averted now and very still— ot the woman beside her. The low, deep voice, strained as 11 the of foil was a paiuful one. rather went on: %'- Do you mean— because he was the husband of —my dearest 1 1 lend." There was a little catch in her voice as she uli ered the last words, and it seemed to encourage the other woman, for she broke suddenly lulo rapid speech. " Kalbei ii.c," she said, " Katherine, you loved her so. How mis It come about that you of all her lends should be ihe one lo staud by him? When— wheu— it happened, wben people began to say that— that be musl have given her— cause it was only because you remained bis friend that people went ou receiving him at ail. Kaiherlne, It it had nut bean for you he would have had to go away I'm sure." " Yes, be would have had to go away." "I wondered at you then and 1 have wondered more aud mure as lime has passed. There is uoUiiuu against bim now; you have tided bim over the worst, and now when Ihat is mentioned he is puied and Millie ls , but 1 can uever forget it. I never seethe man without wonder ing what— did to her." Mi-. Adderiey paused abruptly. She bad spoken very quickly witb a flushed, agitated face rued U' i vous manner— a strauge contrast to the until. mless figure near tier. Alter a moment she went on agaiu, and there was a curious ring of excitement In her voice, as II difficult and ap parently painful as the subject was, it was not altogether unpleasant to discuss It. "There must have be. some reason for it, Kalhtriue. How can you believe she would bave done that dreadful Hung if she bad noi been driven to It? .1 didn't know her as you did, 1 iiiiin'i love her as you did, but eveu I— eveu 1 can't bear the sight of the man who must have brought her to such misery. Millie. Illtle Millie, commit suicide? Katherine, Katherine, can't you see what ii means? Can't you feel bow bad a man he must be? You who were her Irieod I" "1 was her fiiend." The words seemed to come Ihroueh the clenched teeth, almost with out Mlss Giahame's consciousness, 'iheie was something stiff and rigid about her figure as she sal there, still with her grip lightening on the arms of her chair. "And— and— it's so soon, Kaiherlne," went on M is. Adderiey, weakly. "' it's— it's not much more than a year since It happened. If tbeie were limning else against li, 11 poor Millie bad ju-t died— I don't see bow you could. I don't. indeed. And it is— ob, Kaiherlne, think how be Uiiist have made her suffer before it came io ■tual." No answer lor a moment. Tne rigid fig ure seemed to grow more rigid yet, and Uiere was a range gray look of unutterable agony ou Miss G. iihaine's lace. At last she said lii a low hoarse voice, with long pauses between the words; "• They— said— she— was— mad I" " Uo you believe that, Katherine ?" " 1 know it was not true!" " I lieu— Bui Miss Grahame slopped her. Moving very slowly, as If with a great effort, sbe turned Iter white fare slowly toward her and spoke In a voice winch Mrs. Adderiey felt at once must he obeyc d, though it was so very quiet. . . - " Eleanor," she said, "don't say any more, ft Is quite useless. 1 know you liave fell fur some lime thai you ought to say this lo me. It was very good ot you, lor 1 know it lias been unpleasant, but— lt is useless. I— l know Gallon Leigh." There was a short silence, and then Mlss Gra haiue, wuh a sell-control at which Mrs. Adder ley could only seemly marvel, began to talk quietly ot other matters. But Mrs. Adderiey was not so -imug-or as she privately put It, <,?,_ v!',! ,: V " K »«'*r)De Grahame," and be- very long 7 " 1 7 rose lo say good-by. They parted with a rather constrained kiss. ,*' S 'V! '';">'« closed m" drawing-room door as hei visitor disappeared round tbe bend ol ths lat" JJe .id Ue h B M Ue I 1 »'»•*£.& U lax tue iigid bold she had been keemuir on the muscles of her lace, and as she turned tack into the loom she looked an entirely differed woman. Her lovely eyes were large aid soft wllh unutterable love and grief; her whole face quivered and trembled. Very slowly she „i "»S across the room lo a table on which there stood a large phonograph frame, with a curtain over the glass. Sbe paused a moment, then drew back the curtain ano, sinking on her knees as though to get nearer the pictured face, she kissed It i assionalely. "My darling," she whis pered. ".Ob, my dailiug. my darling, forgive iue. I know, I know. Bui what cau 1 do? What can I say '.' Oh, my darling !" lt was ibe picture of a girl of about Aye and twenty, a little fair girl, witb a sweet, geutle face and Innocent, trusting blue eyes. There was something Inexpressibly strange and pa thetic in the attitude of (hat strong, passionate woman. Inner mourning dre-s. kneeling there ' L'clccte thai unresponsive, girlish face in such au agony of passionate love. Mlldied West aud Katheilue Graliiinie had beeu dear friends. It does not, perhaps, often happen that girlish friendships outlast girlhood, that youthful enthusiasms deepen Into woman's love, but when il does occur that love ls founded on a rock and lull-.! endure. And this had been the case with Mlss Urabame and her dead friend. Each had known the other as oue huo.au being very seldom can know another, and their love had growu wiih their knowledge. They were curiously dissimilar, and to outsiders it seemed a stiaugely one-sided friendship. Kath eiine liraliame was so far the stronger of the two, stronger In her love, In her menial power, io social position. Id everything, that it was easy to see what she must he to Mlldied West. But nobndv but their two selves— perhaps not ■ veo Mildred herself thoroughly realized what the steady lender love of that little gentle gill was to the strong, self-reliant woman, and Katherine Grahame returned the love she received with in leio-t. Aii-M-ivnl woman with few ties and lec.er ailectlon*. the whole intensity of her nature teemed lo concentrate Itself In tier devo tion to Mlldied West, lt was the passion of her life. * Mildred had been on a lone visit 'to some friends when she first met Calton Leigh, and it had so happened that during her two mouths' engagement, her only trouble rose from the fact that mi lnend was abioadwilban invalid auut aud could only become acquainted with her Sauce through her own glowing descriptions. Miss Gialiamedid not retuiu lo London until the night heioie the wedding, and when Mildred proudly introduced to one another the two peo ple she loved bust on earth, L'allou Leigh was her husband. Mildied's man seemed to make Utile difference In their friendship. If Mi-s Urabame fell any jealousy of Cdlou Leigh, if It gave hei any pain to Kuow that she had no longer the hist place in her darling's b. art, she was 100 strong a woman to let her feelings prejudice her against the man who had superseded her. Sbe accepted him traii-ly at Millie's husband—con sequently as her friend. Then, two years after her marriage, Mildred Leigh was found one morning dead in her bed, and In her owu baud was an empty glass which had contained the prusslc acid which had killed her. Mildred Leigh had obviously committed sui cide An swlul tiling— an edible thing— tier Irleuds and acquaintances said. lint facts must be ciedlied whether we will or not. Mildred Leigh had committed suicide, and the kindest ibiug that could be said of ber— said ln a whis per, pitying whisper— was that she was mad. Nobody saw Miss Uraname— no' one, not even th gcief-siricken husbaud, might touch her ter rible annuls!:, and when tbe sad story was dis cussed, as It whs whenever two or more ol their mutual acquaintances chanced to meet, these two were snokeu of with the same deep pily. "Poor Gallon Leigh I" people said, "poor Kalhe rlne Urabame !"' Hut when Hie first shock of sympathy began to pass off, when peoule had biougl.l themselves lo accept the bare tneu, the Inevitable question arose, "Why did s.ie do it." Tertians there Is nothing In social life more In cuugi uuits, more terribly significant, than the gossip which grows up round a great tragedy, null! tne onglual horror is lost In a midst of sen sationalism and excitement. The contrast be tween the aspect presented by the same thing to the few who are agonized by it Is one winch should make us thtuk twice before we Indignant ly repudiate as we are apt to do lhe suggestion of lhe possible existence of a fellow-leeling be tweeu ourselves aud the cruel old Jtomaus who filled the Colllseum in bygone days. we do nut enjoy our fellow-creature? physical pain nowa days—we are nior.- refined— but we And the men tal suSeilngs which go to nca>>e up a tragedy "so exciting." Mildred Leigh's acquaintances found the dis cussion of the motives which must have inspired Iter ghastly action quite Inexhaustible, and grad ually out of much talk It came to be generally understood, to be indeed an accepted tact, Unit Mildred's married lite had been far from happy. Nobody had auy reason lor saying so; nobody had nought of such a thing belore her terrible death; but ii was obvious that if she had been happy she would not have commiiied suicide. And through this uncontrovertible statement it was easy io reach the conclusion that when such a woman as Mildred Leigh is unhappy In her married life her husband Is certainly to blame. That tue steps to ibis conclusion were not so clear as might have beeu wished by a sn icily judicial uuud made no ditler euce to auy one. There was nothing against Gal ton Leigh, only no one wanted nt meet him, no oue cared to ask him lo his or her bouse, and be was gradually being quietly and completely ostracized when Katherine Grahaiue electi Hied every one by coming suddenly aud iiinily to his side, and quietly making it very clearly under stood thai she at least was Ins friend, ft was an utterly unexpected move and people found themselves pausing. Even those who had some how produced ihe most detailed and authentic histories of Calton Leigh's misconduct felt them selves slightly shaken. Mlss Urabame had been there so much— Miss Grahaiue had been Mildred Leigh's dear fiieud— suiely Miss Graham must have known If mere bad anything. Per haps, after all they had been misinformed, lf bis wile's most intimate friend was friendly with him sull, certainly uo one else had any light io cut him. He must be asked louiuner— just a quiet little dinner— without delay. Ami gradually It came lo be a usual thing that when Gallon Leigh was asked to dlnuer Mlss Grahame should be asKed to meet him. A sen sation is a very short-lived article aud leaves no perceptible marks ou those wbo have enjoyed It, except perhaps an increased appetite lor the next, and people's Interest In Gallon Leigh aud Miss Urahaiue was beginning to flag, when It was suddenly revived by certain very Interesting reports— reports which were continued by indi vidual observation. Nothing could be more suit able and delightful, people said. They hail sym pathized wllh aud consoled one another uui il they had fallen in love ! Very natural I A imle souu perhaps for Gallon Leigh to have forgotten bis wire— a little soou for Katherine Urabame to have fotgotleu her friend, but— very natural I Tbere was unsound In the perfect drawing room but the quiet crackling of the Are. .Miss Urabanie's face was bidden In her arms now, aud the calm, sweet eyes la the picture looked serenely down ou her bowed, motionless head. She did not speak again, but In every line of her kneeling figure was love and sorrow unuttera ble. Sbe Knelt on until the sound of the front door bell startled her suddenly lo her feet. She stood for a moment listening intently with her breath coining quick aud short aud her eyes glowing with a strange deep light. Then she drew the curtain ouee more over lhe picture, aud crossing to the eplace seated herself just as Gallon Leigh entered the loom. He gave a quick glance round as be came In and said eagerly: "This is very nice. 1 was afraid 1 might be too soon." She loosed up at hiui with a smile, which made her face wonderfully fascinating. Sue did uot hold out her baud, but as ihey bad met so re cenily that perhaps was utiuecessaiy. ••'loo soou?" she said. " \r-. 1 mean 1 was afraid you might not be alone." She laughed a low, musical laugh, still with her beautiful shining eyes fixed upou him, and as he looked upon her his own eyes seemed to grow deep and wild with a feeling ue could hardly con trol. lie whitened nightly, and turning away his face with an obvious effort, sat down uear ber. For a few moments there was silence. She sat watching him with a strangely expectant ex pression on her lace, aud he, though he seemed lo be always conscious ol her gaze, never looked ■ ouud at her. At last she said, with number low laugh: '•Have you nothing to say, Mr. Leigh, now you are here?" ile si. tea as though he had ber.ii shot, and lurued to her sharply, rising lo his feet as he did so. -To say!" he began vaguely. "To say—" Then he bioke off .-mil stood looking at her, as It could never turn his eyes away again. She did Dot turn her head from him. only her face was deadly white, aud her eyes unnaturally dark and bright, as she smiled mat wonderful smile right Into Ins eyes again. Then, suddenly, wllh a low hoarse cry, he fell on his knees beside her, and caught her hands In hum lib own. "To say!" he cried again. " katherlue! Kath eriue! you know what it is I must say. 1 love you. My life is nothing to me without you! I think of you day and night; I long for you; I hunger aud starve for you, wtth every biealh 1 draw. Kalheiine, come tn me; come Into my lite and satisfy me, my love, my love. 1 canuot live without you— come!" As he touched her she turned as cold as death, and a strange linn clouded her eyes, but she never untied her face from his burning, passion ate eyes, bite had made uo effort to resist hun, to release herself from bis touch, and as lie ended— " Yes, 1 will come," she said. CHAPTER 11. Two months bad passed away and Miss Gra hame was alone in her drawing-room evidently expecting something or someone". It had been oue of those strange and terrible days when London Is enshrouded in a weird and inexidic- j ! able daikness. Theie had been un log to speak | ot and yet It had been dark— daik a- nlghl al ! most. Over Miss Grahame's o-auiiltil house all dry the heavy shadow had brooded, the pretty cheery rooms had looked gloomy anil mysterious, and the servants had gone about Willi that de i pressed, almost awe-snuck manner, whicii Is the neaily inevitable ie«uli ul so unnatural a slate of things, .tootie hud called, of course; Mlss Gra hame had hardly left tbe drawing-room, had spoken securely a word all day. Overall the house a deadly quiet had rested. ■•*■■.. Hut now at half-past eight lie lamps were lighted and the natural darkness which all of us know asd which to all of us comes sometimes as a longed-for fe i nil had succeeded Ihe unnatural daikness, which we all vaguely dread as the un known and unnatural is always inure or less dreaded. And Miss Grahame had apparently passed after the quiet of the day Into a state of strauge excitement. She was walking up and down the lung diawing-rooin, up and down, up ana dawn, and her pale cheeks burned with lhe crnnsou flush and her eyes were bright and glit tering. The past two months had wrought sev eral slight changes lv her appearance, iler lace was thinner as though thai flush hail burned there often of late aud woiu the cheeks away wiih lis hot fire. Her eyes looked larger and slightly hollow, as with some long continued strain, and there was a strange, never-changing expression of Incessant watchluluess and expec tation. She was dressed In a long velvet gown, slightly open at the throat— black— always black. At last theie came a ilng at 1 lie from door bell. She did not start at the sound, only she stopped suddenly Id her walk and a curious Un ill seemed to run through all her fiame, to leap from her eyes at last lv a flash of burning light* iiiii seemed for the moment absolutely to traii-iiguic tier. Then It died suddenly away, and her face and manner were very still and quiet as she stood there waiting with her watch ful eyes fixed ou the door until It was opened by Gallon Leigh. gaj»H«.mi|aa»»»ii' cnn} wi w jsg^wlM Theie ate some faces— they belong to men quite as often as to women— on which every pass ing snuggle, mental or physical, every passion, good oi evil, leaves Its record iv lines which no tune may ever wear out. Gallon Leigh's was such _ face and tlie two months that had left those f2*H. , s_?*» on Kft Grahame had made suen ten Ibie marks °o him as many times the 525-i.fi yea . rs slJoU ' a "ot have done. Ills ti?» "i,?.J_ i CU m ,ealuie » *»'» worn and haggard, «li iptti,." 1 ?.^" »<"■;•»•«« lined as though wllh terrible suffering. Hound Hie rather uu- V_L 3 e"wh, I .!'T" , -, l " c *« leßned feature' In a un m,™ t^ii'L 10 emot and expressive, too uncontrolled for a man— were deep linn which gave it a strangely drawn expression, and THE MORNING CALL, SAN FRANCISCO, SUNDAY, AUGUST 17. 1890-SIXTEEN PAGES, the deep black eves were sunken and wild with a fierce, angry light, which be seemed to struggle always to repress. He came into the room very quietly and his face was a tittle set and white, as if be were hold ing himself together Willi great effort. He crossed slowly to where Mlss Urabame stood and made a movement as If to take ber In his arms, but she moved a step back and gave him her band; a strange spasm seemed to pass across bis face, and be waited a moment, as if to make sure of bis voice, before be said, very quietly, " You have bad my teller " Yes," sbe answered, coldly and deliberately. "Shall we sit down?" She seated herself as she spoke, and after an instant's pause be dropped Into a chair near and, cutting his head back wilb a long sigh, be closed bis eyes. Tbere was uo repose on bis haggard, sensitive face though; it was full of keen sensa tion. Miss Grahame did not speak, and ai last be roused himself, and. opening his eyes, said: " If yon knew. If you ouly knew what these last three days have done to me— what It is to be with you agatul Is It possible tbat It Is only three days since I saw you— since I was here?" He sal upright, aud looked around the room as though a great length of time had passed slncedhe had seen It, and as he did bo, sud denly something seemed to catch liis eye; be lurued white to the lips, and half rose to his feet with a hoarse Inarticulate exclamation. He was looking al the uncovered picture of his dead wife. " What Is the matter ?" asked ariss Urabame. She did uot follow the directum of his eyes. She had seated herself so Ibat her own face was In shadow, and Uer watchful eyes were resting on his working, quivering features, with something curiously palleul aud untiring In their steady look. " What— why— l nover seen that picture be fore." " It stands there always," she answered very low, with a strange thrill iv her deep voice. " There Is a curtain before It as a rule." He paused a moment, still staring at the pic ture, and then said: "May i— may I— cover now?" "Why?" " Because— because— He seemed literally to tear bis eyes away from It with a fierce effort of will, aud turned to Mtss Urabame. "It's this confounded weather I suppose. It always affects me. It's so horrible, somehow, It's so— so awfully unnatural. I'm— l'm uot myself." " Cover ll yourself then." For a momeut he hesitated. Then be rose, and walking across the room stood for a mo ment looking dowu Into the geulle, pictured face. As he looked a strange horror crept into his eyes, to be dominated quite suddenly by a wild, fierce expression of reckless resolution. He pulled the curtain roughly over lire picture and sliode back to Miss Giahame's side. As she saw his face she stirred a Utile, aud a quite new expression stirred Into life In ber still aud watchful eves— su expression of almost sicken ing, Incredulous hope. She had never before seen tbat looK on Calton Leigh's face. - "You know why 1 have come here to-night? " be said, and his voice was as bis strong and determined. "I did not ask you." "No, you did nor ask me. It Is weeks since you have asked me! Asked mc— great heavens! Kalheiine, there arc limits to every man's en durance and mine has given out." He waited a moment as if deiet mined not to lose hold ou hlmsell aud Mlss Grahaiue sat motionless. Her face was guile while now, but perfectly un moved, only her eyes glittered witu a buruiug light and they never left tils face. - "1 thought, when I spoke to you two months ago, that 1 hud suffered all a man could sutler, lf you had told me then thai you could uever love me 1 should have killed myself— yes, 1 should have killed myself and never have known what a hell upon earth ainau'sliie may become." He caught his breath soarply and went on, seem ing to lose his self-control a time with the force ol his own words. " Bul now— now 1 will not die, I will not give you up. You have been mine; you cave me your love; you nl me laste happi ness. By heaven, I will uot lel it go!" lie mnde a sitrp or two toward ncr and stood rlgnt over her, not touching her, but looking down at her with a fierce, restrained Intensity of passion awful to see. Stilt she did nut move, (July her si rung, finn hands were wrung together until her rings cut into the white Augers aud her In eat was heavy and labored. " What right have you— l say what right have you to raise a man to heaven and plunge htm to belli in torture him as you ■ have tortured rue dining these awful weeks? You led me on— can you deny it?— until my very soul was yours, and now, now for three days you will not even see me. Katherine, Kalheiine, what does It mean?" As he spoke tlie last words she slowly lifted her head aud looked at hliu lor a moment with out speaking. Tneu she said lv a low, clear voice: "It means— that Ido uot love you." As if the woids had turned him Into stone no stuod belore ber speechless, motionless, almost breathless. At last lie repealed lv a hollow, me chanical voice: "You do uol — me." • SUM there was uo touch of pliy in the hard while face liiiil watched blin with such terrible lutein ness. "1 do not love you, and I will never be your wife," she said. Then, with a terrible cry, ha seemed to realize the meaning ot Uer woids, ami he Hung himself down ou his knees iv a frenzy of wild despair. " Katlierlue." he cried, -my love, my love, what are you saying to me; what do you mean? You are my Hie— my love— l cannot let you go now. Katheiine, Katherine, Katherlue, speak to me; tell me thai it Is not true." No answer, no movement ou her part, only her whole personality seemed to be quivering and vibrating, with a breathless, almost uuendurable agony ol suspense, au Intense burning eagerness, so repressed, so rigidly held dowu Into utter quiescence of every limb and feature that It would have made her almost terrible to see bad not the man before her been blinded by bis pas sion ami pain. tier silence seemed to madden him and lie sprang to bis feel with a desperate cry. " i'.y heaven!" he cried. "By heaven, you are 100 late! Not be my wife? You cannot help your self. You are mine, mine, mine foiever, for I have given my soul for you. Listen lo me," aud he seized her bauds in Ins ie a grip of Iron, while the rapid words seemed io burst from him lv a reckless f i enzy of mad despair. " Listen to me, I say. My love fur you Is not what you Hunk It Is— a new thing, the growth of inootUs. 1 loved you from the first moment 1 saw you. I loved yuu men as I love you nor,-— above all things In heaven and earth. I tried to crush my love, bul it grew and grew stronger and stronger, tin -11l it destroyed eveiylblng, every thought, every leeiing but one— my deathless deleimiuatlou io possess you." He paused a moment, mastered by the over whelming force ot bis unreasoning passion. He had drawn her up from her chair and was hold lug her close iv him, closer aud closer as he pouted forth his words like a resistless torrent of lire. She was quite passive lv his bauds, while and cold as stone, aud all her life seemed tv be concentrated In those burning eyes, which seemed to diaw tlie woids from linn with the In tensity ot devouring liglii. Sllll boldtug her lv that mad, agonized clutch he went uu lv a low, hoarse whisper: " Mildrea stood in your place, my love, my love. 1 gave my soul for you. Your place Is empty." Theu with an -awful cry — a cry In which triumph, hatred aud revenge were strangely blended— the woinau lore herself away from his despairing hands. "Al last," she cried, and her deep voice rang tbrough the big num. "Oh, God! at last I at last!" He fell back a step, and for an instant tbey faced each other lv silence; then she weut on, still in Hint wondeiful, ringing voice, while her whole figure seemed to dilate with the foice of her terrible triumph. "1 have waited for this moment— waited and winched until; I thought il was never to come. I have tried eveiylinug. 1 have watched and wurked. and at last— lasl 1 have 11. Murderer, murderer ! 1 have known ibis all the lime. Oid you think— were you loot enough to think that I, 1 who knew her and loved her so, oh God, who loved her se, could ever believe my dailing capa ble ot such a crime? That she. my lilt girl, my little Millie, should ever lake ber own sweet, innocent lite I Fool, loot, 1 anew my darling." The man before her bad turned au awful ashen gray, and he stood there, the fieuzy dead within bim, self-convicted, utterly defenseless. ' '.suicide,' Iliey said," she went on, "as you knew they must say Suicide !' You did not count on llu: friend that loved her! *1 knew— l knew it was a murder, and from the lust 1 have sus pected you. 1 stood your friend— your friend— when all her other friends who could believe Ibat she had done that thing would have turned their backs ou the man they believed had driven her toil. I stood your Iriend and kept you here. I kept you here for this. Then you began, you villain, lo make love lo me and I was sure. I led you on yes, you are right, 1 led you on— for tin-. 1 vowed Ihat sooner or later you should tell mean, and I have borne yonr presence, I have borne your touch— your Kisses— lor this, Onion Leigh I For llils I" She stopped. Her voice bad swelled and grown deeper Willi every passionate word she uttered, a, .ii as she finished with a kind ol fierce trium phant cry, It seemed lo rlug again with sucb an intensity of hale and vengeiice, as wuuld surely, it such a mice could Kill, have laid us object dead at ber feel. Then she began again, and her voice this tune was low aud terrible with a deadly duieiiuiiialioli. "Now listen," she said. "I have not done with you vet. A life lor a lile, Gallon Leigh. Your worthless lite for my darling'- I I will prove yum guilt io all the world, I swear It ! My dar ling shall not lie lurever with mat cruel shame upon her innocent bead. For her sake I have bt ought you to tills; for ber 1 will hunt you down, somehow, some day. Till Ihen live If you can. Now— go!" she lifted her hand as she spoke, and siood theie pointing to the dour, su perb In her passion and hale. The wielched man had never moved, only Ills face was Inn ribly drawn. his lips were ashen, and he swayed slightly io and fro as he stood staring straight before him with awful sightless eyes. As she ceased to speak he turned his eyes slowly nun! they rested on her face, beauiilul now in Us Indescribable passion. Then he turned away, heavily and uncertainly, as If to go toward the door. Bui before he had taken three steps he stopped abi v ptly witu a dreadful low laugh, and with a sudden quick gesture he lifted his hand sharply. The next moment there was a sharp jetton and he was lying at her feet hi a stillness which no passion, no love, longing or remorse would ever break again. --" Vengeance Is mine, I will repay, saltb the Lord."— Philadelphia 'limes. II Is Awful Manner."-'.'; l|.|, 11, ...... It ....... .1.- Ic.l " iL.e,,.'' vvnen liermit won tne Tiemy, the Mar quis of Hastings lost $500,000 on the race, and the _ loss well-nigh Impov erished him. A London journalist tells how, a t few days after . the race, he bad • occasion to . call upon the ; Mar quis . at ' the tatter's ' hotel . in Albemarle street Taking the letter of Introduction the Marquis proceeded to break I the seal, meanwhile looking his unknown caller straight ,in the eye. "Isit a writ?" demanded the . old Marquis, sullenly. • Ob, .. no. . answered the visiting journalist -"it's a letter of introduction." I thought it was a writ," explained the Marquis, with a sigh of relief, and then he added, with emphasis. "Good God, man. never give me a letter in that d-d mysteri ous manner again I"— N. Y. Press. -...". rf- - ; . ' .... . -■«; Recent Investigations in Indian prisons have revealed a curious physiological con dition induced by thieves for the purposed secreting valuables. They allow a heavy lead bullet to slide down the throat and keep it In position i for half an hour at a time. In about a year a pouch - it, formed into which anything small : may be thrust - without interfering with speech or breath! At -' present-" there are ;In Calcutta . Jail ', twenty prisoners with the- thros t-pon .lies. SOME LEGENDS OF THE DEAD. The Spot Which Many Arabs Honor as the Tomb of Ere. Where ths Wife of Explorer Livingstone was Laid at Beat — A Visit to the Distant . Grave of Panl and Virginia, FIT is not very often that ; an Amerlcau traveler visits often that American traveler visits the little town of Jeddah, 15 on the Arabian coast of the Bed Sea, yet every year as the sacred season ol the Hedjaz comes around, hundreds of thou sands of devout Musselman3 are disembark ed at ils little harbor,' intent on making a pilgrimage to the Mecca, which insures the happiness and honor of paradise. It was not with any intention of attempt ing to visit the tomb of Mohammed and to gaze on the mysterious "Kaaba" that I took sail one moonlight night from Suakim and crossed the turbulent Bed Sea to Jed dab, writes Laurance C. Goodrich to the Boston Globe. My object was to visit the shrine of one venerated by Christian and Ishmaelite alike — the tomb of "Eve, the 1 mother of mankind. Leaving Suakiiu just after sundown, when the laud breeze had sprung up, in a small dhow with a prodigious sail, I arrived off Jeddah about 9 o'clock the -next morning. As seen from the sea the town is very im posing.: The tall white houses, built en tirely of coral rag, are, many of them, sev eral stories high, and adorned with beautiful banging windows of carved woodwork. The town is entirely . sur rounded, except on the sea front, by a massive wall from fifteen to twenty feet high, through which three gates give egress to the country beyond. At sundown all of these gales are closed, and at all times they are guarded by Turkish soldiers. The channel by whicii the harbor, is reached is very intricate, as coral reefs crop up in every direction, and are constantly growing. There are, however, plenty of native pilots, always waiting outside to pilot dhows in, and, taking one onboard, we were soon safely anchored off the main landing. As I was obliged to leave Jeddah again that night, I lost no time in getting ashore, and alter breakfast and a tub, the latter of which was necessary after a night In a dhow, I set off with one of the British con sulate's cavasses to visit Eve's grave. This is situated about a mile and a half outsido of the city on tbe north. Passing out by the northern gate the land raises gradually to the grave, which is in full view from the time you leave the city wall. The country presents a very stern appearance, there being but little vegeta tion. A few dale palms are dotted about, and away to the west in the direction of Mecca grnups-trf stunted acacia trees render the prospect less barren. The approach to the tomb is on a sandy slope, rising about 200 feet above the town. The grave itself is 100 feet long and five feet wide, and is surrounded by it stone wall four feet high, covered with chunam. In the center of it rises a small dome crowned mosque, wherein pilgrims assemble to say their prayers. The mosque is in charge ol some dervishes who have plenty to do in keeping it clear of the crowds of beggars who assemble and clamor for backsheesh. Inside the mosque is perfectly plain, ex cept tint in the center is erected an altar. This stands about three feet high, and is covered witn curtains. The curtains being drawn aside disclose a black stone let into the lloor. This stone is supposed to lie directly over the TOMB OF EVE, - .L ; : And is polished like marble by the kisses of the faithful. It is by no means permitted to every pilgrim to place his lips on this sacred spot, but by a liberal amount of backsheesh aud the presence ot the consu lar cavasses I was permitted the honor, and accordingly tie curtain was drawn aud on hands and kuees I paid homage to our legendary mother. The stone which is treated with so much honor is a very curious one, evidently meteoric, and is supposed, like the Kaaba of the Mecca, to have been . specially sent down from heaven for its present use. . '. ■ '_•'-, -, 1 had a long chat with the chief custodian, of tbe tomb, who told me that the office had been in the family for generations. He. said that tbe most regular visitors to the shrine are the Bedouins, who in their yearly wanderings through the Arabian desert rarely fail to visit the tomb. I asked him if there was any legend as to why Eve was supposed to be buried there, but he knew none, and asked, "Where else would she be buried except on this sacred soil?" It is certainly curious that legendary lore should assign to spots so distant from each other for the graves of our first parents. While Eve rests on the shores of the Bed Sea, Adam is popularly supposed to lie buried under the forest-clad slopes of Adams Peak in Ceylon. . - On my walk back to Jeddah I asked ray companions if they supposed the grave rep resented the stature of Eve and they said "surely." A stroll through the bazaar brought a pleasant day to a close, and soon after sundown I was again on the sea, bound far the African coast ' It is faraway from the lied Sea to the Isle of France, aud probably no greater con trast could be imagined than that which ex ists between the arid shores of Arabia and the tropic luxuriance of Mauritius. Yet just as the tomb of Eve has imbued the des ert with an interest it would not otherwise possess, so has Bernardin St. Pierre's ro mance of Paul and Virginia spread a halo round Mauritius. No one would think of visiting the isl and without paying a visit to the graves of the hero and heroine on whose sad fate St Pierre founded his romance. For Paul and Virginia in the flesh and their true story is no less touching than the fable. In the year 1744 a terrible famine i aged over the Isle of France, and on the receipt of the news in Europe a ship called the St. Gerau was dispatched with stores to the relief of the Governor, Matie de Labour donais. The ship, altera prosperous voy age, arrived one summer eveniug off the island. The captain knowing the straits the In habitants were in was anxious to communi cate with the shore as soon as possible, and endeavored to take his ship in by night Although they were but a mile from land only three escaped, those who could swim being seized by the sharks which infest those waters. '.; • Ou board the St Gerau were two lovers. Mile. Malett and M. de Peramon, who were to be married when they reached. the Island. Their, grief at the idea of beiug separated when the ship struck was terrible, and clasping each other in their arms they awaited tneir fate. At length a wave swept them from the deck, and the next morning their " bodies were found still locked in a final embrace, where they had washed ashore on a little beach of what has since been known as Tombeau Bay. Such is the true story of Paul and Vir ginia, and in a grove of ," ~ MAJESTIC RUFFIA PALMS Hard by the little beach : stands their grave to this day. The drive from Port Louis to Pampletdousses, where the grave is : situ ated, is a lovely one and harmonizes well with the . romance attached to the spot Palms of all sorts, Including the beautiful talipot (Corypha umbracullfera) line the road, and at the time I visited it the beauti ful flamboyant was in full bloom and threw its scarlet spikes in every direction across the pathway. " _ The grave itself is situated a little to the left of the road, about seven miles from Port Louis. It is a simple structure of stone, about three feet high above : the ground. No inscription tells who rests be neath, but the inevitable guide is at hand to point it out aud demand a " pour boire" for his oains. 'cjB«BSJ@-^sß^_ -j&*mjs The stones have been sadly mutilated by relic-hunting tourists, who have chipped aud disfigured them In a barbarous man ner. A magnificent bougainvilloea spreads its purple mantle overhead, and 1 collected some of the brilliantipetals as a memento of the spot. Clumps of scarlet nonosa and a monster passion flower added more beauty to a scene thoroughly in harmony with the memories of the spot "••■;'. .■■.:_ There has lately been a scheme to put up a more suitable monument to . the lovers, and a considerable sum of money has been collected on the island for -that purpose. Whatever- form -It may/take It is to be hoped that it; will. be erected on the spot where they now rest, which nature would seem to have desigued for a poetic shrine. Many people who are -well acquainted with | the travels | and I adventures |of Dr. Livingstone are unaware that the treacher ous climate of Africa: claimed his wife, as' well as himself, as its ' victim, yet . such I is the case, and • while Westminster Abbey' holds the bones of I the great explorer those of his wife find a quiet resting-place by tho side of the Zambesi. •---•• . ■ ■ Passing down this beaotif ul river on my way from LakeNyassa to the coast I turned 7 aside at the little village ofThupauga for the purpose of visiting Mrs. Livingstone's grave.-- . . *........ -. -. The head man of the village readily un dertook to guide me ito the spot, but he warned me that the undergrowth of • the forost was very d»nse, and | that it wou' _ be necessary to take a party of men wit 1 , us' to cut ' the way through " the ' jungle. The ' fact of an "iusungi" being buried there had rendered .:.-.:;.-.-..-. : THE SPOT TJKCANJfT. . In the eves of the superstitions natives, and the pathway which led by the tree under which Mrs. Livingstone was laid had be come entirely obliterated. ■ Starting from the village with my guides and ten men, we at once 1 plunged into the forest, which is here very dense, and, owing . to the thick "lianes" which hung from every tree, difficult of passage. _ After three quarters of : an . hour s hard . work, during which we progressed, at the outside, half a mile, we - arrived at the foot of . a gigantic baobab tree. •....- Here, my : guide Informed me, was the site of the grave, but it took another hour's bard work clearing away the brush beforo we could reach it. At last, however, my search was rewarded, and the grave brought to light. A wooden cross placed at the head bad fallen down, and; wreathed with creepers, lay on the ground. - ,'--:' : The grave itself is a simple mound of earth, like so many of those seen in English church-yards, and, considering that it had not been banked up in a score of years, was in fair condition. Considering the heavy tropical rains lof the Zambesi Valley, it is wonderful that it had not been entirely effaced. —-- ..: ; . . . I bad the jungle around the grave care-' fully cleared away, and put a stout bamboo ! fence around it and replaced the cross at the head. On my return to the village I ar ranged with the bead man to have the grass or jungle cut periodically. ' ; Some day 1 hope a more enduring monu ment may be erected to tbe daughter of Moffat and wife of Livingstone. Certainly no more appropriate restiug-place could be found for her than un der the gnarled and twisted branches of the old tree at Thu- pattga. • Here, amidst the scenes and people she loved and within sound of the waters that will ever be associated with her husband's name, she was laid to rest in the early spring of 1862. Sincu that time many of her countrymen i have passed up and down the Zambesi, and it is to be regretted that none of them ever ; stopped to repair her grave. ' • -■■ " ----■■ f-ff-p- ERICSSON HAD MANY TITLES. Knight Commander Five Times Over and an Excellency" Itesides. . John Ericsson, by virtue of ills appoint ment as Knight Commander of the Koyal Order of Isabella, was a Spanish nobleman, and his position as Knight Commander, first class, Danish Order of Dannenbrog, gave him the title of " Excellency," with niik next to that of Field Marshal and Ad miral, and entitled him to the' military honors due to a Lieutenant-Genera!. The army regulations provide (paragraphs 427, 440) that officers of foreign service shall be received aud saluted according to their rank, says the Army and Navy Journal. It says nothing concerning funeral honors to be paid them, but the regulations provide that on the occasion of the -burial of a L,ii-uteuant-General a salute of fifteen guns shall be fired and a funeral escort be pro vided, under the command of a Lieutenant- General or an officer nearest to that grade in rank, to consist of a regiment of infan try, a battalion of cavalry and a battery of artillery (paragraphs 44.1, 407, 474, 473). As Ericsson ranked next niter an Admiral, or with a Vice-admiral, under the Danish law, this fixes his status under the navy regula tions governing the matter of funeral cere monies. Aside altogether from the question of merit the honors bestowed upon Ericsson while living may serve as a guide in the ar rangement of the function attending the trausler of his remains to Sweden. Besides the decorations referred to, he received those of a Knight of the Swedish order of Vasa, a Knight Commander of the Norwe-" giau order of ■• St. Olof and a Knight Com mander with the Grand Cross of the Swed ish order of the Polar Star. He received by formal vole the thanks of the American Congress, of the Legislature of the State of New York, and of the Swedish Diet. Ha never made any display of these honors, and when he was once asked what titles should accompany his name iv the deaica tion of "Haswell's Engineering Hand bunk," he answered, "Captaiuand LL.D." He was proud of the title of caplaiu, re ceived iv his youth from the Swedish Gov ernment, and of the degree bestowed as a recognition of his contributions to science. We have by no means given a catalogue of Ericsson's honors. They include the be stowal in isti- of the Kumford medal, which had up to thai dale been awarded but once before in this country during a period of neariv three-quarters of a century since the establishment of this fund by Count Bum ford. • . • . IS OLD PEED. Dow the Land Wm Divided and Looked After. The following were the characteristics of the economic system in vogue there: The soil, which was almost the sole source of wealth, belonged to the State, It was divi ded into three parts; the first was applied for the maintenance of the temples and priests of the Sun, the second for the -sovereign and nobility, and the third, for the people, as a tempo rary privilege, tney being obliged In return to cultivate all the land without exception, as was the case with us in the middle ages. The land was divided afresh every year among all the families, accord ing to their requirements, as was the rase with the Germans in the time of Julius Cajsar. "Magisiratus ac principes in annos singulos gentibus cognationibusque houii num quantum, et quo loco visum est, agri atirihiiiint, atqun anno post alio transire cogunt"— De Bell. Gall., vi:22. Very exact registers were kept of the different plats of ground and the number of members of each family, so that tbe division might be made on a perfectly equitable basis. Each family was also allowed a cer tain amount of guano from the Chinchas Islands for manuring the laud. All agri cultural labor was carried on under the direction of the authorities, and the first to receive attention was the ground which was to serve for the support of the aged, the widows and orphans, the sick or those employed in the service of the State. Maize was cultivated on even the most abrupt slopes of the mountains, which were covered with terraces, supported by i enormous blocks of rock and stone, and then filled with fertile earth from the val leys. The State supplied each dwelling with wearing apparel and with the neces sary implements of -labor. There were neither rich nor poor; every one had suffi cient to live comfortably, but without a surplus permitting accumulation. ■--' Idleness was a punishable offense. There was no coinage; gold and silver were used fur ornaments, or were deposited in the temples.' Exchanges were made at regular monthly fairs by bartering. The Govern ment gave out raw materials to artisans and to women, who made these into manu factured articles under the supervision of overseers appointed by the Government.— The Contemporary Be view. THE DECLINE OF DISCIPLINE. The Stern. Father In In.* Rone By and ' the Stern tine of To-Day, ' . 1790. . Master Makepiece Wisdom Winthrop (to bis : sire)— Will my honored , and revered father grant me the privilege of going to slide on yonder pond for a brief .time? His Sire— Nay, ray son, it is not my de sire that you should engage in such frivol ous pursuits. They are a waste of time nnd energy and I fear me they are in a cer tain degree sinful. - Say no more about It, my son. ■'".:'*. ' ■•"■' - ... Master Makepiece Winthrop, aged 18, says no more, -,_ - 1830. . Ayy-f-y. — - Master Harold Percy St. John, aged 10 (to his sire)— Pa, can't igo skating this afternoon ? Mr. St. John— you can "Why?"- -'-:: .'.■-■■• '"Cause you can't. "Why?" . .- ■ , _ . "I don't want you to— that's why." -■• fp. '"That ain't auy reason." "It's reason enough for me, and I want you to shut right up and say no more about it." - ■ •■ ff "Jim Brown and Ted Jenkins are going." "I don't care if they are; you're not." "Why?" -c .'•Because you re not!"... "800-hoo-hool 1 can't never do nothing! 800-hool" .-. .---.-.. --"Shut up that noise I" • - "Can I go then?" "No. You can't" ■--... "800-hoo-boo! Hoo-00-oo! boo— don't — hoo— see why!" - - ''You'll know why if I trounce you, young man "V"^ft r li^r*"yfTii?y^ "Can't * go Just a little while?" : "Yes, And break through the Ice and get drowned." ;•;-'' . .-. "I wont, either— Boo-boo!" , ; . " Hush ! v Will you be very careful 7" ' : " Yes— yes." : . : "And not go where the ice is tbin?" "No." 'Py-Pf-' >.-•: ~v -.-■:■ --Affff-' "And you'll come home in an hour?" " Yes— yes." " Wei),- put out then, and mind, If you ain't back Id an hour I'll trounce you good." > "Yefci«ir." .-'■ ■';;?■: ; '\- ,v - ■ _~ And on he goes : . to stay five hours and a half, but the trouncing is never more heard of.— Drake's Magazine. I£_£S&KB£-n_B-l A feature of the international electric ex hibition in Frankfort will be the transmis sion of electric power. VA' firm i in Lauffen, on the Neckar, will furnish currents of 500 horse : power '• over copper? wires from - a station MO miles from the exhibition. -■-■■rr. A DETECTIVE'S CLOSE CALL. Accidentally Tumbling on a Gang of Counterfeiters. Hs Is Hade a Captive and Is About to Bs - Killed, ■ When, 'to Their Surprise, ; He Claims to Bs the Boss Counterfeiter. |5-«UURING the year 1848 the West was |I*JR flooded with counterfeit coin. It \&Jffx was so well . manufactured that it passed readily. The evil at last became so great that the United States authorities re quested a skillful detective might be sent to ferret out the nest of coiners. I was fixed upon to perform the duty. ; fff.AA I had. nothing to guide me. The fact, however, that Chicago was the city where the counterfeit coin was most abundant led me to suspect that the manufactory might be somewhere within its limits. It was, therefore, to the capital of the West that I first proceeded. I spent five weeks In that beautiful city, but without gaining the slightest clew of the counterfeiters. I began to grow discouraged, and really thought I should be obliged to return home without having achieved any result. One day I received a letter from my wife re questing that I should send her some mon ey, as she was out of funds. I went into a bank and asked for a draft, at the same banding a sum of money . to pay for it, in wbich there were several half-dollars. The clerk pushed three of the half dollars back to me. " Counterfeit," said he. , "What," said I, "do you mean to tell me these half dollars are counterfeit?" "I do." ..pP- - "Are you certain "Perfectly certain. They are remarka bly well executed, but they are deficient in weight. See for yourself." And he placed one of them in the scales against a genuine half-dollar on the other side. The latter weighed down the former. "That is the best executed counterfeit coin I ever saw in my life," I exclaimed, ex amining them very closely. ' "Is all the counterfeit money in circulation here of the same character as this?'.' . "Oh, ibar, no," replied the clerk, "it is not nearly so well done. These are the work of Ned Willett, the ' Afffy ffp.- FAMOUS NEW YORK t'Ol'NTiail'EITKR. "I know them well, for I have handled a great deal of it in my time. Here is some of the money that is in circulation here," he added, taking several half-dollars from a drawer. "You see the milling is not nearly as perfect as Ned Willett's, although it is pretty well done, too." I compared the two together and found that he was right. I supplied the place of the three counterfeit half dollars with good coin and returned the former to my pocket again. A few days after this I received informa tion which caused me to take a journey to a village situated about thirty miles from Chicago. I arrived there at night and took up my quarters at the ouly tavern in the place, It was a wretched dwelling and kept by an old man and woman, the surliest couple I think it has been my lot to meet. Iv answer to my inquiry as to whether I could have lodging there for the night, I noticed that the host gave a peculiar look at his wife, and after some whispering I was informed in the most ungracious man ner possible that I could have a bed. I have frequently, in tne course ol my life, been obliged to put up with wretched accommodation, so I did not allow my equanimity of temper to be destroyed by the miserable fare set before me aDd tho still more miserable sleeping apartment iuto which I was ushered after I had con cluded my repast. The chamber was small in size, and was certainly well ventilated, for I could seethe stars peeping through the roof; the bed simply a bag of straw thrown into one cor ner ot the room without sheets or covering of any kind. This last fact, however,- was not of much consequence as it was summer time and OPPRESSIVELY HOT. - I stood for more than an hour gazing out of the opening which served for a window. Before tue was spread an immense prairie, the limit of which I could not see. The tavern in which I had taken my abode ap peared to be isolated from all other dwell ings, and save the croak of the tree frog and the hum of the locust, -not a sound readied my ears, lt was a beautiful moonlight night, and so bright that 1 could see to read the smallest print. At last I began to grow weary, and throw ing myself on my oallet I was soon plunged into a deep slumber. How long I slept I know not, but I was awakened by a duil si'tiud, which resembled some one hammer ing in the distance. 1 suppose it was the pe culiarity of the sound which awoke me, for it was by no means loud, but conveyed to me the idea of some one striking iron with a muffled hammer. I rose up from my bed and went to the window; the moon was low in the western horizon, by which fact I knew that it must be near morning. The sound I referred to reached me more dis tinctly than when in the back part of the chamber. It appeared to come from some outhouses which were situated about 100 yards from the house. Now I am naturally of an inauiring mind, and this sound, occurring as it did in the middle of tbe uight, in such a remote, out of-the-way place, piqued my curiosity, and I felt an irresistible desire to go out and discover the cause of It. This desire, as the sound continued, grew upon me with such iuteusity that 1 resolved to gratify it at once. I put on my boots, the only articles of at tire I had discarded, and cautiously opening the door of my chamber, noiselessly de scended the rickety staircase. A few steps brought me iuto the lower apartment, which I found . ENTIRELY DESERTED. I I crept quietly tv the door, and unfasten ing it without making the slightest noise, was soon in the moonlight. Not a soul was visible, but the sound still continued, and grew more distinct as I THE NEW IMMIGRANT DEPOT. Plans of the Ills Lxiullnc Station That Will Be limit on mills Island. The drawings cf the plans of the new immigrant depot at Ellis Island are being rapidly completed at the office of Colonel John M. Marshal], Federal Superintendent of Repairs, by his chief '■ draughtsman, J. Bachmeyer. The building will be of wood, 400 feet long, 130 ; wide and two stories high. The first story, thirteen feet high, will be occupied by the local, gen !■■ -Iff I ■II ' II I t ' I - --■-■■--— -»-- - - . *" --.;- '~ *~ "*~ :^^**'" v~_-L 1=1 1 NEW LANDING-PLACE FOE IMMIGRANTS, ELLIS ISLAND. eral and railway baggage departments. All of the first floor, excepting the water-front corners, which will be given over to busi ness offices, will be arranged with the view of facilitating the handling of the boxes and trunks of the immigrants. On the sec ond floor will be tbe offices of the superin tendent ' of ;._•_ immigration, A the treas urer, the superintendent of landing, the inspector of . contract laborers and v tbe railways, as well as nine im migrant pens.- the register's department, three , detention ■-- rooms, :-■ the informa tion bureau fur New York, the money ex change department, - lunch counters and telegraph .desks.', The arrangements were FAMILY LIKENESS. Curious Investigations by a Photographic ECSKSQ^' Society In Geneva. ?!_\_^_)BKpMß_ Some curious investigations have recently been undertaken 'by a photographic society in Geneva. The purpose was to show that the longer a married couple lived together, we apprehend harmoniously, the more and more marked became the resemblance which the 3 two '■% persons ;i bore L; to - each I other. Photographs •of seventy-eight old c couples were ;: taken, as well "■ as an equal L num ber ': of *i adult , brothers . and '; sisters. On careful I inspection ■it was found tbat ■ the married couples were more like each other than tbe ' brothers < and sisters of . the same blood. j Apparently, therefore, there seems approached the place ■ from whence it pro ceeded. .At last 1 found myself before a long, low building, through the crevices of which I could perceive a lurid glare issu ing. I stooped down and peered through the key-hole, and, to my extreme, surprise, I saw half a dozen strong-looking men with their coats off and sleeves turned up, per forming a variety of strange occupations. Some were working at a forge, others were superintending tbe casting of molds, and some were engaged in the process of mill ing coin. In a moment the whole truth burst upon me. Here was the gang of counterfeiters I was in search of, and the landlord and bis wife evidently belonged to tbe same band, for in one corner I per ceived them employed, the man polishing off some half-dollar pieces, just turned from the molds, while the woman was packing the finished coins into rolls. I had seen enough and was about to re turn to my apartaient again when suddenly 1 felt a heavy hand placed on my shoulder, and, turning my head round, to my horror found myself in tbe grasp of as ill-looking a scoundrel as ever escaped the gallows, " What are you doing here, my good fel low?" he exclaimed in a gruff voice, giving me a shake. . ... ... " Taking a stroll by moonlight," I replied, endeavoring to maintain my presence of mind. , . „ , " Well, perhaps you'll just take a stroll in here, will you?" returned the ruffian, push ing open the door and dragging me in after him. - , j- - , All the inmates of the tarn immediately stopped work and rushed toward us when they saw me. "Why, what is this?" they all exclaimed. "A loafer 1 found peeping outside," said the man who bad captured me. "He's a traveler that came to the tavern to-night and asked for lodgings; the last time I saw him he was safe in bed," said the landlord. The men withdrew to the corner of the apartment, leaving one to keep guard over me. I soon saw they were in earnest con sultation, and they were evidently debating some IMPOETANT QUESTION. The man keeping guard over me said nothing, but scowled fiercely. I had not uttered a single word during all the time I had been in the barn. I was aware that whatever 1 might say would in all probabil ity only do more harm than good, and it Das always been a maxim of mine to hold my tongue when in doubt. At last the discus sion seemed to be settled, for the blackest and dirtiest of the whole lot came forward, and without any introduction exclaimed: "I say, stranger, look here— must die!" S-fesv?jV 1 did not move a muscle nor utter a word. "You have found out our secret, and dead men tell no tales." I was still sileut. - v-vlv. --"We give you ton minutes to say your prayers, and will allow you the privilege of saying whether you will be hanged or shot." Suddenly an Idea struck me. I remem bered something that might save my life. I burst into a violent fit of laughter; in fact, it was hysterical, but they did not know that. They looked from one to another in the greatest amazement. "Well, he takes it mighty cool, anyhow," said one. "I suppose he don't think we are in earnest," said another. "Come, stranger, you had better say your prayers," said the man who had first spoken. "Time flies." My only reply was a fit of laughter more violent than the first. - "The man's mad!" they exclaimed. "Or drunk," said some. "Well, boys," I cried, speaking for the first time, "this is the best joke 1 ever seed. What, bang a pal?" "A pal— a pal?" ~ / "I ain't nothing else," was my elegant rejoinder. "What is your name?" "Did you'ever hear of "ked willett?" 1 asked. - . "Yuu may be certain of that. Ain't he at j tbe bead of our profession?" Well, then, I'm Ned Willett." "You Ned Willett?" they all exclaimed. "You may bet your life on that," I re turned, swaggering up to the corner where I had seen the old woman counting and packing the counterfeit half-dollars. Fortune favored me. None of the men present had ever seen Ned Willett although his reputation was well known to them, and my swaggering, insolent manner had some what thrown them off their guard, yet 1 could plainly see tbat all their doubts were not removed. "And you call these things well done, do yuu?" 1 asked, taking up a roll of the money. "Well, all I can say is that if you can't do better than this you bad better shut up shop, that's all." "Can you show us anything better?" asked one of the men. "I rayther think I can. If I couldn't I'd go and hang myself." "Let's see it," they all cried. This was my last coup, and one on which I knew my life depended. "Lookee here, gentlemen," I exclaimed, taking one of the counterfeit half-dollars from my pocket which had been rejected at the bank, "here's my last job ; what do you think of it?" lt was passed from hand to hand, some saying it was no counterfeit at all, others saying that it was. "How will you prove it is a counterfeit?" Asked one of the men. "By weighing it with a genuine one," I replied. ... ■ - This plan was immediately adopted and its character proved. "Perhaps he gol this by accident," I heard one of the men whisper to another. "Try these." said I, taking the other two from my pocket All their doubts now vanished. > : • . "Beautiful!" exclaimed some. "Splen did !" said others. When they had examined it to their satis faction they all of them cordial! v. shook me by the hand, every particle of doubt having vanished from tbeir minds. I carried out my part well. - Some ques tions were occasionally asked me, involving some of the technicalities of the business: these, however, I avoided by stating that I was on a journey of pleasure, and would much rather drink a glass of whisky than answer questions. The whisky was pro duced, and we made a time of it, and it was not until morning dawned that we separ ated. ..-.*- The next day I returned to Chicago and brought down the necessary assistance and captured the whole gang of counterfeiters in the very act. . The den was broken up forever, and most of them were condemned to serve a term of years in the State Prison. I have these counterfeit half-dollars still in my possession, and intend never to part with them, lor they were certainly the means of saving my life.— Yankee Blade. complete, Mr. Bachrueyer said yesterday, for the easy handling of 10,000 immigrants daily in Hie new depot, while 7000 or 8000 in ono day had crowded Castle Garden beyond measure. The building will be constructed entirely of wood. The walls will be three-inch hem lock, with one-inch novelty siding on the outside. The roof will be yellow pine, covered with slate. The floors will be Georgia pine. A ventilating skylight will run the whole length of tho ridge of the roof. The walls .will be per forated with almost Innumerable windows, which will keep the air pure and the light abundant throughout the day. At night the building will be lighted by gas an d electricity. There will be - ten entrances from the waterfront and eight entrances at . each end. . The fire-engine, « hose and hook and ladder truck will be kept in a separate building. Although the new depot was not ; planned with . much . regard for architectural beauty, it is expected that it will be about as . sightly as an $85,000 wooden . structure can be. It will have a four-story tower at each corner, and in the middle of each side is a pediment flanked with three-story towers. The erection of the new depot will begin about the middle of August. Y. Sun. ' to be a stronger force available for the pro duction of "family likenesses" even than that of hereditary transmission. In accepting the statement of the society in question as true to fact, and not regard ing it as the outcome of an attempt to make practice and theory meet, it is not difficult in a certain ' measure ;to account for the phenomenon referred ■■; to. • Human if be ings, for example, have quite a faculty for , copying •-■ each ,- other . -in . their ways, movements and - temperaments. Witness the attempts which are commonly made to imitate the mode of utterance and the catchy", mannerisms which happen to be affected by this or that public man. Al most every man and woman, has a "model" In ordinary life from whom certain features are taken ; and • adopted.— London ' Medical Press, ~ **- :■'■■■■■■" "' ".■' .:••'■ "'- " ' FRENCH JOYOU-NE*>S. The Splendid nnil Refreshing T gnr of Dumas' Characters. How we rejoice in their virtues— in _ Athns' open-handed generosity, in Por thos' reverence for his comrades' abilities, , in D'Artagnan's Inexhaustible inventi«v-» in Araiuis' devotion to the trio; how. in our age of hypercritlcism of impartial views, of exhaustive analysis of even our friends' motives, their unswerving loyalty to each other appeals to us ; and bow near to' our hearts they are in spite of their deep drink ing and constant fighting. In them the old French joyousness still survives, the intrepid mirth that the Gaulish legionaries showed in Crassus' terrible campaign, when they jested and sang under the burning suu g and" the Parthian arrows, and to the Roman soldiers who asked them if they were not afraid, replied, laughingly: "Yes, that the sky may fall on our heads." This gayety, which is the most virile form of courage, this high-hearted contempt of dan ger, which is the . dominant note of the novel, warms the blood like a generous wine. Indeed, the whole - cycle, with Its old pagan ideal of friendship, its apotheosis of the manly virtues— courage, fidelity and perseverance— is a moral tonic invaluablo in an epoch of weal, nerves and indecision ; in it we breathe a wholesome atmosphere that stimulates like pure air and bright sun shine; turning its pages we feel the strong sea-wind blowing in our faces, the cool breath of the forest is on our cheeks, sweet with the scent of sun-warmed pines and tho odor of fresh earth trampled by hurrying hoofs. If the heavy perfumes of a royal ' alcove or a fine lady's toilet reach us, they are soon dispelled by a whiff of gunpowder or the rich bouquet of a flask of Burgundy ; it is only now and then that a waft of In cense crosses our path, but always aioundn/s ■" and about us, resounding with the thud of the iron hoofs and the brave music of steel on steel, Is the fresh air, whether it blows from tbe chalk cliffs of England, over the tulip-beds of FontalneDleau, or through Me narrow streets of old Paris.— From "Tin- • Paris of the Three Musketeers," by E. H. and E. W. Blashtield, in August Scribner. ITEMS OF INTEREST. Canada claims to be larger by 500,000 square miles than the United Status, in cluding Alaska. Texas has a double-headed cat. It is perfect in form except the two heads. It has four eyes, four ears and two mouths. - A bolt of lightning in a Kansas town re cently struck a house and set it on fire, and at the same time touched off the fire alarm. A luminous buoy baa been invented, the light for which is produced by phosphuret of calcium, aud is visible two and it half -miles away. Ivan lvancovllch, aged 100 years, has just departed this life in Kussia, after haviug gone to bed drunk every blessed night lor eighty-seven years. A story comes from Stratford, Conn., that an enterprising colt there the other day chewed up a man's vest and several hundred dollars in the pockets thereof. After a study of the Congressional Direc tory the Charleston News and Courier an nounces that there are six farmers in the Senate and thirty-five in the House. A negro who was caught robbing the till of a merchant at Atredendo, Fla., wasgivan fifty lashes by the colored people residing in the neighborhood and then set at liberty. Tne electric battery has superseded the horse and cold water treatment for taming refactury prisoners in the Ohio Peniten tiary, It is reported to De very efficacious. The seven-year-old daughter of Peter Oisen, at Ludington, died in terrible agony the other day, within ten minutes after she bad been bitten by a snake in a huckleberry swamp. Dairymen supplying milk-dealers in New York, being short of ice on account of the mild winter, are losing much milk, and to make up for this loss they con template put ting up prices. The other day a man over at Indepen dence (Kan.), was fined $1 for whipping his wife, aud the same day another citizen of the same place was placed under bonds of $2000 for selling whisky. A warm salt water bath is said to be very refreshing to one-suffering from bodily la tigue. If away from the seashore a cup of rock salt dissolved in warm water and added to the bath produces the same result A triplet steer team is one of the curiosi ties to be seen at Old Orchard. The steers are bitched to a vehicle resembling those used in lhe chariot races in circuses, and 10 ceuts pays for a short ride in this novel turnout .■ — :,.: -•-.-. -^;. .-.^-^--r, Vegetable or fruit sandwiches are recom mended as new delicacies for picnics. The newest dainty sandwich is made ol nastur tium leaf, sprinkled with a little sail, and set between two round slices of biscuit nutr butter. _, The Twelve Apostles is the name of the great war vessel of 8200 tons which the Hus sion Government is just about to launch at Sebustopol. A larger vessel, called St. George the Conqueror, Is being built at the same place. A trial has beeu made at Civita Teccliia of a nautical bull invented by Signer Balsa melie. It is seven feet in diameter, and can bold four persons. Wheu closed it sinks, ami is steered and propelled under water by rudder and screw. A report of the existence of a very pecu liar cat family emanates from an Atlanta (Ga.) bar-room, which claims to be the pos sessor of a maltese cat and kitten, which are bringing up with the utmost care uud attention a couple of infant mice: A fresh expedition is to be sent to the Congo for the purpose of attempting the so lution of the remaining problems connected with the remote feeders ot the great rivei. It is to consist of seven Europeans sent out by the Congo Commercial Company. John Fes* of Medaryville, i Ind., was struck by lightning a few days ago, every bone in his body being broken. Downey Knotts, seated on the wagon beside him, escaped unhurt, and so did the horses Fess was driving, but a dog trotting under the wagon was killed. A lady of Bremen, Me„ has a parrot ami* also a cat named Shag. She has taught the parrot to spell c-a-t. cat, d-o-g, dog, and a few such words, I and the other day Polly electrified the household by spelling very loudly and plainly "c-a-t" and then pro nouncing it "Shag." Perhaps Tolly can't think. Lunacy is rapidly increasing In England. Last year the Lunacy Commissioners had on their books the names of 84,340 insane persons. This year they began with 86,087, an increase of 17-7. The great majority of the insane are found among the lower classes, 77,257 of the patients being helpless paupers. All the officials in the various depart ments along the Jersey Central Railroad have been notified by the company.that hereafter employes must abstain from the use of intoxicating liquors while on or elf duty, and if seen entering saloons, either during or after working hours, will be dis charged. It is understood that the departmental committee appointed to consider the advis ability of permitting adhesive stamps to lie affixed to cards by the public for transmis sion through the post, on the same terms as post-cards issued by the Government, have decided in favor of allowing the change to be made. One of the dancers In a theater in Berlin was found dead in her bed and it was sup posed that she had committed suicide, but a post-mortem examination showed that she died from heait failure, dun to tight lacing. | The liver of the unfortunate young woman was horribly deformed ami crushed out of shape. ~ Pbilo I'enfield, of Shelby, N. V.. when he went to the ma." a beardless boy sent hi* best girl a picture of himself, but it was - lost. lie recently saw bis name in a list of letters accumulated in the dead letter office during the war. lie sent for the parcel, and to the now old man tbe young picture brings a flood of memories of other days. The Mayor at Newport, Mont, declared some new baths open, lie then withdrew, and, throwing aside his robes of office, re appeared before the large gathering ot ladies and gentlemen in a bathing suit. .Plunging into the water he swam the full length of the bath, and his example was fol lowed by several Town Couuciluien and policemen. The Swiss Federal Council has about de cided to expel Mormons from the republic. Petitions in favor of the expulsion have been signed . by lens of thousands of the working people, who cannot tolerate the Mormon doctrine. In several instances the Mormon missionaries have been sub jected to personal violence. Tliey have been making numerous converts. At GutUriesville. Pa., a mod dog attacked the little son of Mrs. Gibbons, but before I the child was bitten the pet dog of the fam ily rushed upon the rabid animal and put him to flight, but not until alter a severe fight, in which the family dog was badly bitten and lacerated. The boy escaped without harm. The dog that so nobly sac rificed itself had to be killed. ; A Thousand Guineas the Fee. The largest fee ever paid to a Scotch ad vocate was that of iooo guineas sent to the Lord Advocate with his brief in the recent action . with r reference '; to the L Murthly estates. Five . hundred I guineas - was the fee 'at first sent but -this was -not enough to induce -. bis Lordship to leave his duties in Parliament. - Some time ago the Lord Advocate received a fee ': of ' 800 guineas in a Court of Sessions case till then tho highest fee known in Scotland. It Is curious tuat . both fees | should I have been supplied . by - American millionaires. Mr. Kennedy I aud Mr. Ross Wlnans, and It is equally curious ) that | both of I them . lost their actions in - the court— London Trull;.