Crawfordsville Weekly Journal, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 23 August 1895 — Page 7

I ALL THE TO

By HALL OAINE,

Author of "The Manxman," "The Deemster," etc. I

CHAPTER XXI.

On this occasion, as 011 all similar occasions for the last 30 years, Tommy-Bill-beg, the harbor master, and Jemmy Quark Balladlioo had been eaeli to contribute toward the curious Manx ritual of carol or carval singing. Great had hitherto been the rivalry between these musical celebrities. But word had gone around the town that tonight their efforts were to be combined in a carol which they were to sing together. A young wag had effected this extraordinary combination by a plot which was expected to add largely to the amusement of the listeners.

Tommy-Blll-beg, as was well known, could not read a syllable, yet he would never sing his carol without having the printed copy of it in his hand. Such curious vanity had long been the cause of merriment, and now some capital was to be made out of it. Jemmy Quark Balladhoo, on the other hand, could read, but he resembled Tommy-Bill-beg in being almost stone deaf. Each could hear himself sing, but neither could hear another.

And now for the plot. Young Mr. Wag had callcd on the harbor master that morning at his ivy cottage, and "Tommy," said he, "it's mortal strange the way a man of your common sense can't see'that you'd wallop that squeaking ould Jemmy Balladhoo in a jiffy if you'd only consent to sing a ballad along with him. Bless me, it's then they'd be seeing what a weak, ould, cracked pot of a voice is at him."

Tommy-Bill-beg's face began to wear a smile of benevolent condescension. Observing his advantage, the young rascal continued: "Do it at the Oiel Vcrrco tonight, Tommy. He'll sing his treble, and you'll sing seconds to him."

It was an unlucky remark. The harbor master frowned with the austerity of a Malvolio. "Me sing seconds to the craythur? No, never!"

It was explained to Tommy-Bill-beg, with a world of abject apology,"that there was a sense in which seconds meant firsts. The harbor master was mollified and at length consented to the proposal, but with one idea cloarly impressed on his mind— namely, that if he was to sing a carol with Jemmy Balladlioo he must take good care to sing his loudest, in order to drown at once the voice of his rival anil the bare notion that it was ho who was singing seconds to such a poor creature as that-

Then Mr. Wag walked up the hill to Balladlioo, and "Jemmy," said he, "it's mortal strange the way a man of your common sense can't see that you'd wallop that squeaking ould Tommy-Bill-beg in a jiffy if you'd only consent to sing.a liallad along with him. Do it at the Oiel Yerree tonight, Jemmy, aiul, bless me, that's the when they'll be seeing what a weak, ould, cracked poi of a voice is at the eraythur!"

The gardener of Balladlioo fell an easier prey to the plot than the harbor master, and a carol was selected. It was to be the ancient carol 011 the bad women mentioned in the Bible as having, from Eve downWard, brought evil 011 mankind This was accounted an appropriate ditty for these notable illustrations of baehelordom.

Now, Tommy-Bill-beg always kept his carols where Danny saw them—pinned against the walls of his cottage. The "Bad Women" was the carol which was pinned above the mantelpiece. It resembled all the others in being worn, crumpled and dirty, but Tommy knew it by its locality and could distinguish every other by its position.

Young Mr. Wag had somehow got what he called a "skuto" into his literary mystery, so after arranging with Jemmy Quark he watched Tommy-Bill-beg out of his house, crept into it unobserved, took down the carol pinned above the mantelpiece and fixed up another in place of it from a different part of the room. The substituted carol happened, oddly enough, to be a second copy of the same carol on "Bad Women," with this radical difference, that the one taken down was the version of the carol in English and the one put up was the version in Manx.

The bells began to ring, and Tommy-Bill-beg donned his best petticoat and monkey jacket, put the carol in his pocket and went off to church.

Prayers had been said that night to a thin congregation, but no sooner were they done and the parson had prepared to leave than great crowds of young men and maidens trooped down the aisles. The young women went up into tlio gallery, and from that elevation shot down at their bachelor friends large handfuls of peas, but to what ancient spirit of usage, beyond the ancient spirit of mischief, the strange practice was due must be left as a solemn problem to the learned and curious antiquaries.

Nearly everybody carried a candle, the candles of tho young women being usually adorned with a red ribbon and rosette. The brilliance of illumination was such as the dusky old church enjoyed only once in a year.

When everything was considered to be ready and the parish clerk had taken his station inside the communion rail, the business of the Oiel Verree began. First one man got up and sang a carol in English then another sang a Manx carol. The latter depicted the physical sufferings of Christ and described, with an intensity of "naturalism" even yet unknown to modern literature, how the "skin was torn off his shoulder blade." But the great event of tho night was to be the carol sung by the 6Worn enemies, Tommy-Bill-beg and Jemmy Quark Balladlioo.

At last their time came. They rose from opposite sides of the church, eyed each other with severe looks, stepped out of their pews and walked down the aisle to the door of the porch. Then they turned about in silence and standing side by aide faced the communion.

The whispering in the gallery and tittering in tho body were audible to all except the persons who wero tho occasion of them. "Hush, hush, 111a veen that's him that's him." "Bless me, look at Tommy-Bill-beg and the petticoat, and the liandkercher pinnin round his throat!" "Aw, dear, it's what he's uesd of." "A rcg'lar Punch and Judy." ush, man, let them make a start for all."

The carol they were about to sing contained somo 30 verses. It was an ancient usage that after each verse the carol singers should take a long stride together toward the communion. By the time tho carol came to an ond they must therefore be at tho opposite end of the church. What this meant must also bo left to tho venerable doctors aforesaid.

There was now a sublime scorn printed on the features of Jeiumv Quark. As for

Tommy-Bill-beg, ho looked at this last moment like a man who was rather sorry than otherwise for his rash adversary. "Tho rermantick they're looking," whispered one expectant maiden in the gallery to a giggling companion beside her.

Expectation was at its highest when Tommy-Bill-beg thrust his hand into the pocket of lii.s monkey jacket and brought out the printed copy of the carol. Tommy unfolded it, glanced at it with tho air of a conductor takinga final look at his score, nodded his head at it. as if in approval, and then, with a magnanimous gesture, held it between himself and Jemmy Quark. Jemmy in turn glanced at it, glanced again, glanced a third timo at tho paper and then up into the face of Tom-my-Bill-beg.

Anxiety was now on tiptoe. "Hush, d'ye hear, hush, or it's spoiling all you'll be, for sure.''

At the moment when Jemmy Quark glanced into the face of Tommy-Bill-beg there was a smile on that benign countenance. Jemmy mistook that smile. He imagined he saw a trick. Jemmy could read, and he perceived that the carol which the harbor master held out to him was not the carol he had been told to prepare for. They were by arrangement to have sung the English version of "Bad Women." This was the Manx version, and it was always sung to a different meter. Ha, Jemmy understood it all I This rascally Tommy-Bill-beg was trying to expose him. The monster wanted to show that ho (Jemmy Quark Balladlioo) could only sing one carol, but Jemmy would be even with him. Ho could sing this Manx version, and ho would. It was Jemmy's turn to smile. "Aw, look at them—the pair of them —grinnin together like the two ould gurgoils on the steeple."

At a motion of the harbor master's hand, intended to beat the time, the singers began. Tommy-Bill-beg sang the carol agreed upon—the English version of "Bad Women." Jemmy Quark sang tho carol of which they held the printed copy in their hands—the Manx version of "Bad Women." Neither heard the other. Each bawled at the utmost reach of his lung power. To one tune Tommy-Bill-beg sang: "Thus from the days of Adam

Her mischief you may trace."

And to another tune Jemmy Quark sang: "She ish va'n voir ain ooilley Son v'ee da Adam ben."

What laughter ensued! How tho young women in tho gallery lay back in their seats with shrieks of hysteria! How the young fellows in the body made the sacred edifice ring with guffaws! But the singers, Tommy especially, with eyes steadfastly fixed on the paper, heard nothing but each his own voice. Thus they sang on.

They had got through three verses and made three strides toward the communion when suddenly there was heard above the uproar a dismal and unearthly cry, and all at once the laughter and the shouting of the people ceased. Every face turned toward the porch.

Bareheaded, dripping wet from his matted hair to his feet, a ghastly light in his sunken 'eyes, with wasted cheeks and panting breath, Danny Fayle stood there, one hand 011 tin door jamb, tho other holding a coil of rope. "Tho Ben-my-ehree is on the rocks!" he cried and was gone in an instant.

If a specter had appeared, the consternation had scarcely been greater. But the next moment, recovering from their surprise. the people on all sides leaped up and rushed out of the church. I11 two minutes not a soul was left except Tommy-Bill-beg and Jemmy Quark Balladlioo, who still sang lustily, oblivious of the fact that they had no audience.

CHAPTER XXII.

This is what had happened. When Christian and Mona turned away from the house in the quarry, with its dead man and solitary watcher, they thought they descried a sail far out in the black void beyond tho lino of wild sea that was lit up by the burning gorse. "Let's hope they're not in the down Stream, poor fellows, whoever they are," said Christian. "In a wind like this it would be certain to drive them dead on to the Moar reef."

Then they continued their walk and passed the open shaft in which Christian had spent his night of peril and agony. There was so much to say that neither spoke except at long intervals. There was so much else to feel that neither felt weary, nor remembered the many hours in which both had been strangers to sleep. They might have wandered on—two dark figures against the red glow of the jrreat fire—until the steop declivities of thePoolvash had stopped them, but that the wind rose higher every moment and threatened to sweep them from their feet. "Listen, how the sea thunders!" said Christian, and just then a cloud of hissing spray came up to them, high as they were, from the boiling surge below.

They turned back, laughing as every gust tore them a little apart. Before they passed the cottage on their return they were conscious of faint cries from beneath. "Hark!" said Mona. "Surely they were voices from the sea."

There could be no doubt of It now. Several voices were calling in accents of fearful agony, and above the rest was one wild, thin shriek. It seemed to echo in the lowering dome of the empty sky—was 6uch a cry of distress as might haunt one's dreams for years. "It's from the boat we saw, and they're on the Moar reef, too, surely." said Christian. Tiien tliey hastened on.

When they reached the shore they found the sea running high. A long ground swell was breaking in the narrow strait between the mainland and the Castle isle. Flakes of sea foam were flying around them. Tho waves were scooping up the shingle and flinging it through the air like sleet

The cries were louder here than above. By the light of Danny's fire it was but too easy to see whence they came. Jammed between two huge protruding horns of rock a fishing boat was laboring hard in the heavy sea, rearing, with a creak, 011 tho great waves and plunging down with a crash and groan on the sharp teeth of the shoal beneath her.

Tho men on deck could be seen hacking at the mast to lighten her and cutting away the gunwale forward to ease her off the horns that held her like a vise. But every fresh wave behind drove her head deeper into the oleft. Tho men shouted in mingled rage and fear. They tried to leap on to the rocks, but the weight of the seas breaking on them made this a perilous adventure, even if the pitching of the boat left it possible.

Christian took in the situation in an instant. Two or three small boats were lying high and dry on the shore. He ran to them, cut away their cables, tied them together in strong knots, slung one cud around his waist and passed the other about an old spar that lay close by. "Thev're too near for us to stand and

see them die," he shouted"excitedly, above the tumult of the wind. Mona clung to him for an instant. Then she loosed him, with a fervent kiss.

I11 another moment he had plunged into the water. Tho strait was very narrow—00 feet at most from tho shore to the rocks. Vet what a toilsome journey to the man who was wading off with the rope. The tido was flowing and near the top. It never rose higher than four or five feet in this channel. A man might cross it if tho swell did not sweep him back.

Through tho boiling surf, piercingly cold, Christian struggled bravely. Ho was young and st rong. He reached the boat at last. It was prancing like an unbroken horse. But. waiting for a receding wave, he rushed in, laid firm hold of the first man at hand nnd carried him back to the shore. The man had lain in his arms a dead weight Was ho dead indeed?

Mona stooped and looked into his face. "It is Danny Falo!" she cried. But Danny was not dead. He recovered consciousness and staggered to his feet.

Loud and angry cries wero now coming from the boat. Mingled with the curses of rage there came tho words, "Why didn't you give us the rope?"

Christian shouted that he was coming back with it Then, watching again for an ebbing wave, he plunged off afresh. He reached the boat quicker this time. Being pulled aboard, ho unlashed the rope and strapped it to the capstan. Then one of the men—it was old Quilleash—dropped over the side and drew himself hand over hand through tho water.

But the rope stretched and creaked with tho rolling of the boat. The spar to which the end ashore was strapped budged n.-t an inch. Mona saw the danger too late. Before she could case the rope it snapped

Now Christian added one more to tho number of thoso 011 the boat! Old Billy, safe on shore, sat down on the shingle and sobbed, terror stricken and helpless. Thank God, tho poor, despised Danny had is wits about him. He saw what had happened .and ran for another rope. Flying into tho town, he shouted, "Help, help!" But all Peel seemed to be at the "carvaIs." Ho ran to the church. Screams of laughter and tho tumult of noisy singing came out into the darkness. Scarce knowing what ho did, ho burst open the door and cried, in 1 piercing voice, "The Bcn-my-cliree is on the rocks!"

Then, with the new rope in his hands, he fled away to the shore. When Danny got back, a groat multitude was at his heels. Old Quilleash still sat, wailing and helpless. Mona ran up and down the shore in an agony of suspense. The lad looked at neither. The hillside of fire behind them showed but too clearly what had occurred. Chilled to the bone by the raw winter wind, four of the men had dropped overboard. A fifth had leaped into the water and after a fearful struggle for life had been lifted off his feet by the bftjakers and broken on the rocks.

He was seen no more. Only two remained 011 the deck, and one of the two was Christian. Ho could be seen clinging to the bowsprit, which was shipped. The dingy had been torn from the lugger and thrown by the rising tide high and dry on the shingle. Danny pushed it to the water's edge, jumped in, strapped one end of the new rope about his body, threw the other to a group of men on the shore and looked around for assistance. None stepped out. Many fell back. "It's no use throwing more lives away, muttered one They're past saving," said another Women clungto their husbands and would not let them stir. Other women, the wives of men who had been on the boat, cried "Help!" Little children, crouching together with fear and cold, wept piteously.

Danny pushed off his boat, but in an instant it was lifted on to the top of a snow capped billow and pitched ashore. Danny himself was thrown out on the shingle. 'No use, man." shouted many voices, aud the lad was compelled to desist.

The wind clamored louder every minute Timbers cut away from tho fishing boat were swept up with every wave The surf around the rocks was like snow. The water was beaten into seething foam around the boat also Between the billows the long swell was red with the reflection of the fire, but the sea was black as ink beyond the line of the Castle isle, save where, at the farthest end of wave and sky, a streak of ashen light shone in the darkn'ess

Danny had coiled the rope from end to end around his waist Then he stood and waited He knew that the tide must soon turn. He knew, too, that, having once begun to ebb, it would flow out at this point as fast, as a horse might gallop But low water never left those rocks dry between which the fishing boat was jammed The men aboard of her would still need succor Hut help might then come to them from the castle side of the channel

The crowd knew his purpose and laughed at it One grizzled old fisherman took Danny by the arm and would have held him But at the first glimpse of the reef that ran across the highest- and narrowest point of the strait the lad shook himself free and bounded across to the Castle isle "Brave Danny. said Mona in a deep whisper. "Brave? Is it brave? Aw, well, it's mad I'm calling it," said the old salt

There is a steep pathway under the cast wall of the castle. It runs up from tke shore to a great height above the water It is narrow enough to be culled a ledge, and the rocks beneath it fall well nigh precipitously Danny ran along this path until ho camt to the square turret whose truncated shaft stands on tho southeast corner of the castle. While ho was under the shelter of tho walls the wind did not touch him, but when he mushed the oust angle a fierce gust from the west threatened to fling him over into the sea He tried to round the corner and could not. The wind filled his jersey like a sail He took the jersey off and threw it aside Then ou hands find knees he crawled round inch by inch, clinging to the stones oft he turret and the few tussocks of long grass that errew between them

Every movement he maclb could be watched from tho opposite side of the channel The light of the gorse fired over the Poolvash fell full upc^ him and lit up the entire castle and rocks and the shuddening boat beneath with an eerie brilliance The townspeople were congregated in thousands on the Horse hill and the shore of the mainland "Who's yonder madman?" cried one "Danny Kayle,' answered another "No, not Danny, the gawk?" "Aw, yes, though, Danny, the gawk Kerruish Kinvig was there striding up and down and shouting like thunder itself above the tumult of tho wind: 'Clear the road Stand back, tho ruck of you There was nothing elfje that Kinvig could do Mylrea Balladlioo had been sent for He caino and sat down on the spar to which Christian hi»d strapped the rope. The broken piece still hung to it. Mona stood beside him aud spoke to him at intervals. He answered nothing, but svarcd vacantly before liim.

The people held their breath as Danny

rounded tlie turret, expecting every instant to see him lifted from the ledge and hurled into the surf beneath When I10 had cleared the corner and stood full in the wind 011 the south side of the castle directly above tho two protruding rocks that held the fishing boat in their grip, the crowds rushed down the shore and along the top of the Contrary head to keep him in view. What other mad act would lie lad at tempt "Ilo'll go round to the west and eonio u:k on the shingle." "Not him, mail Tho shore there is in six feet of water."

Danny emerged presently, lie was seen to tie one end of his rope through a hole in the old castle wall to a huge stono built into it. The other end was still about his wuist. "He's going down the rocks to the boat." "Gerroutof that. He'd bo cut in pieces." "Aw, dear, tho poor boys not mad enough for that anyway."

But Danny was going down tho rocks. Sharp as needles, with their thousand teeth turned upward, slippery and icy cold, Danny set his foot on them. 1-le began his descent with his back to tho sea. Clouds of spray rose from every third wave and hid him from tho people. But he was seen to bo going down foot after foot. What had seemed liko madness before began to look like courago now that success appeared possible. It was neither —it was despair. "Aw, beautiful!" "Beautiful, extraordinary I" "It's tho young Masther Christian lio's going down for." "Well, well, the masther was kind to the bay astonishing." Poor lad, there's a heart at him."

Meanwhile Christian was clinging to the bowsprit Ho was chilled near to losing his hold. Ho saw Danny with tho rope and wondered if I10 would ever reach them. His companion—some said it was the mate, Davy Cain—saw him also, n.nd. the poot fellow was so transported by the prospect of deliverance that lie died 011 the instant nnd was swept away. Only Christian now remained. Every moment tho waves washed over him. Ho was numbed past feeling His hands wero swelled to twice their size. Wondering if when Danny reached him with the rope he would have strength enough to grip it, he lost consciousness

When within a yard of the bow of tho boat, Danny leaped and landed on the deck. The people had held tiieir breath while ho descended. Now a great cheer went up ou tho shore and on the cliff. It rang out above the clamor of the wind and the hiss of the thrashing billows. But Danny heard it not. His thoughts were of Mona and of how she was blessing him in her heart. As surely as if I10 heard it with his carnal ear, Danny knew that even at that moment Mona was praying that strength might be granted him and that lie might be blessed in the mercy of God forever.

He lifted Christian in his arms. The swelled hands had next to no hold now. Then the lad set his face afresh to tho cruel, black, steep rocks. Once again a shower of spray hid him from tho peoplo. When the white cloud had fallen back, ho could be seen half way up the rock, dragging Christian 011 one arm after him.

Could none lie)]) him? Yes. Twenty hands set out at this moment, nine-tenths of the peril past The tide had left a wide bank across the highest part of tho strait, and the water was running out 011 both sides

Danny was helped up. but he would not relinquish his burden Walking feebly he carried Christian, who was stiil insensible, along the narrow path under the east wall back to tho shore. The crowd divided for him. He saw Mona, where she stood with clasped hands beside Balladlioo Making his way to her, he laid Christian at her feet.

Danny's life work was done. He had given back to the woman who was all the world to him the man she loved.

Mona dropped to her knees beside Christian and kissed him tenderly. Danny stood apart in silence, and amid all that throng saw Mona alone. Then he turned his head aside and looked away over the sea Only heaven knew what his thoughts were in that bitter hour—that blessed hour—that hour of sorrow and of glory. In this world his days were done. For Kisseck's death, what remained to him among men? Without Mona's love, what was left to him on earth?

Christian returned to consciousness. Mona rose up and took Danny's hand. She would have put her arms around his neck, but he drew away and turned his eyes again toward tho sea. The longing look came back, but no tear would start, for the gift of tears had gone forever.

The hum of human voices arose abovo them "Poor lad. aud his uncle dead too." "Kisseck?" "Aw, yes, Kisseck." "No?" 'Yes, though, and shot, they're sayin." 'Never "Who shot him?" "There's no one knowin that."

A loud, unearthly peal of laughter was hourd above the noise of the people and the tumult of the storm Every one turned to look for Danny He had gone Tho next moment he was seen at the water's edge, pushing off the dingy of the lugger Ho leaped into it and picked up an oar. But the ebbing tido needed no such help It caught the boat aud carried it away on a huge billow, white with foam In a minute it was riding far out into the dark void beyond

Then Mona remembered Danny's strange words two days ago, "I think at whiles I'd like to die in a big sea like that."

Next day—Christmas day—when tho bleared sun was sinking over the western bar of the deep lone sea and Danny's gorse fire on the clilT head was smoldering out, a boat was washed ashore in the Poolvash —empty, capsized It was the dingy of the Ben-niy-chreo

CHAPTER XXIIL

One scene more It Wits the morning of a summer's day. The sunshine danced bewitehingly over the sea, that lay drowsily under the wide vault of a blue sky Lambent, languid, while, earth and air slept together.

A soothing and dreamy haze rested on the little town of Peel Brighter than the suushine, fresher than the salt breath of the sea, a little girl of 8 tripped over the paved and crabbed streets. In one hand she swung a straw hat, overflowing with (lowers By the other she held a fair haired boy, who was just old enough to trot along at her side Tho stout l*ttle man carried a mighty spade across one shoulder, and the hand that held the hand of his sister held also a bucket heavily laden with perhaps a teaspoonful of mind At one moment the maiden, exercising the grave duties of a guardian, stopped and volunteered to relievo the little chap of this burden but, of course, lio resented the humiliating tender with proper masculine dignity Then they tripped on.

They were making for tho market place, and when they reached it they turned in at the church gates. Many a green grave lay there, bathed in the sunbeams, and many a simple stone, moss grown and discolored, looked brighter on this brilliant dav. An old man sat 011 a tomb and lcan-

ed forward on a stick. Ho seemed to doze in tho light and warmth, but as tho littlo peoplo passed him ho fumbled at his hat and smiled through his toothless gums. 'At's Billy, "said tho littlo fellow, with an air of knowledge.

Tho children walked to tho southwest angle of the church and stopped beforo a white marble slab imbedded in tho wall. There was no grave beneath it. Tossed on the shimmering waters that, stretched away miles mi miles in front of it, or resting calmly in that ocean bed, was all that remained of him to whom this stono was raised.

Tho littlo maiden cast her flowers in front of it. Tho little boy, too, must needs cast his flowers also. Then I10 looked up with his great blue wondering eyes at the letters of tho inscription. They ran, "To Dear Danny In Heaven."

Tho tido was just ou tho turn, and the murmur of tho first receding waves began to break tho silence. "Listen," said tlio littlo woman, with lifted finger. "I 'ikes tho sea," said the boy.

The children turned to go. "Come, Danny," said she. "Eos, Ruby," I10 lisped.

When they reached tho gato tho littlo feet tripped faster over tho stones, aud a silvory voico sang: "Sweet violets and primroses the sweetest."

THE END.

By EDMUND DOWNEY,

Author of "A House of Tears," "Red Post Park," Etc.

[Copyright, 1804, by Tillotson & Son. CHAPTER LOCKED IN. "Hi, policeman!" Constable Mctcalf stopped abruptly in his slow march and looked upward.

Right in front of tlio constable was a dwelling house with a small forecourt, a two storied house situated in a terrace on the Felspar road in the London suburb of Clayfields.

It Wiis an odd looking terrace, consisting of seven houses numbered 1 to 18. The ten-ace had been erected about 40 years previously. The seven houses had originally belonged to one landlord, but during the 40 years they had frequently changed hands. Some of the house's had been allowed to fall gradually into a condition bordering 011 decay, some had been patched np and presented a fairly wholesome front, and two—11 and 13—had been almost rebuilt and looked from the outside almost as good as new.

Constable Metcalf was now gazing at the first tioor window of 13. The head and shoulders of a yovuig man were thrust, out of tlio window of the principal bedroom, a room situated in the front of the house and occupying the space over the front parlor and the narrow hall. The stone ledges of the par lor'and bedroom windows were decorated with wooden flower boxes, and the young man as he endeavored to attract the attention of the constable had to hold his head high and crane his neck in order to avoid coming into contact with the fiowerless stalks of the geraniums which bordered the outer sash of the window. "Hi, I say, policeman!" repeated the youug man in a somewhat louder tone. "Well,"saidConstable Metcalf, stepping back a few paces on the flag way until his shoulder came into contact with a gas lamp. "What's up?"

It was a little before o'clock in the morning—Thursday morning, the 10th of October. The sun had not yet risen. The gray dawn was struggling for exist#nce, battling with a thin white mist which had not been able during the night to arrive at the dignity of a fog. There were no signs of life or movement in the road other than the policeman standing near the lamppost, the young man at the first floor window aud some dejected, home slinking cats. The rattling milk cart—usually the first sound which saluted the ears of early risers in the Felspar road—had not yet turned the corner of the road. "I'm in a regular fix," said the young man. "That's what rs up." He spoke with an apparently foreign accent, tacked on to a cockney twang. "I am locked into my room and cannot make any one hear me.

Howjs that?" asked lie policeman curtly "I do not. well know. Theye is 110 boll in my room I have made a noise, but 1 can hear iw one stirring. Would you mind ringing the boll of the hall door loudly I want to catch a train at 7 :40 from Paddington. "Ail right, said Constable Metcalf quietly. Then he straightened his square shoulders, moved away from the lamppost, opened the small iron gate leading into the small forecourt, walked with clattering steps along the tiled passage which led from the gate to the hall door and gave the bell a vigorous tug. "'Thanks," said the young man, gazing down at the policeman as tho latter stepped back from the doorway and looked up at the first floor window. "I fancy I hear some one stirring. AwfnLy strange mv being looked into my room. Never had such an experience before. Awkward thing to find yourself a prisoner in yonr bedroom at (i o'clock in the morning with an early train to catch. "I don't quite understand you. Door locked from the outside, is it?" "Yes. The lock is some old fashioned sort of arrangement. It Jiiis no keyhole inside. But why it should be fastened now I can't understand. Mrs. Davorn aud her niece—I suppose you know tho name of the people of the house—like the good policeman that you are?" "Yes, I know the name," said Constable Metcalf a little gruffly. "They knew I was going off early this morning. Perhaps they have detained me for the bilL He laughed as if he Had made a good joke and then for a few moments relapsed into silence. "Hear any 0110 moving?" asked the policeman. "Not a stir. It must have been a false alarm. They sleep soundly surely. Perhaps tliov were up late. Would you

mind giving the bell another tug, Mr. Policeman?" Constable Metcalf made two stops forward and pulled tho bell again. "Ah, I think wo have started some ono at last!" cried tho young man. "I 1111 sure I lizard a noise in the house. It is cither Mrs. Davorn or Miss Rodnev But they may be some time dressing, constable. I won't ask you to trouble my further. Yes, I hoar 1 he sound of feet. Awfully obliged to you, constable I was ou the lookout for the milkman 01* some other early Samaritan when you turned up and saved 1110 from being kept any longer in durance vile.

Constable Metcalf was a trifle uneasy 111 his mind. Ho was a zealous ofilcer, just short of 30 years of age, very quiet and reserved iu manuor, but possessed of a quick intelligence, tinctured with that lively spirit of suspicion without, which a policeman can never hopo to prosper. There was nothing specially wonderful in tho conduct, of the young man overhead nor in his story, but the 3onstablo was disconcerted by tho volubility of his challenger.

Metcalf knew every house in the Felspar road, and ho knew a good many of the people who dwelt in it. He knew Mrs. Davorn, a fino looking woman of middlo ago, by sight—indeed she had often treated him to a pleasant nod. Ho also knew her nieco, Miss Rodney, by sight—a most attractive young person, tlio constable considered her. Ho was aware that matters had recently not prospered with Mrs. Davorn, and that the lady had been obliged to let apartments at 13. Ho knew that two single gentlemen occupied apartments in the house—ono a half foreign young gent, the young man now standing at the firstfloor window, a prisoner in his bedroom, an exemplary young man in many ways, always off to his business early in the morning, seldom out, lato at night. Tho other lodger, a middle aged man, was, in Metcalf's opinion, rather an odd sort of covo, a pasty faced man of about five' and forty, tall and slender, fond of wearing his hair—dark brown hair—long, an awkward shamble in his walk and au odd sort of look in his eyes. The constable had indeed a dim professional interest in this elder lodger. Ho had ascertained that his full name was Bernard James Vickery. There was nothing positively against the man Vickery except that ho seemed to have 110 occupation and that he was addicted to prowling about the quiet streets of Clayfields somewhat late at night, a man to keep an eve OIL

Tho constable swiftly ran 15in mind's eye over the dwellers in 13 Felspar road, and then he glanced furtively at the young man overhead.

Certainly there was something odd about this' gentleman being locked into' his room. It. might mean nothing, but it might mean something, and the worthy policeman was determined not to move away from the house until lie could tvu'ii his back 011 tho premises with a perfectly easy mind. Ho advanced close to tho hall door again, put his ear against tho glass panel and failed to detect any sound in the house. Then he stepped from the hall door and advanced to the center of the front parlor window.

There was a narrow graveled path leading from the porch of the hall door to the other end of tho forecourt. Inside

"Prn in a rciulur Jir."

tho path, festooning the space under the parlor window, was a strip of clay about 18 inches iu depth, in which some fems were planted, "Ah!" said Constable Metcalf suddenly as Lo turned his eyes upward and gazed at the parlor window. "There's something wrong here.

He stooped and looked at tho place where the two sashes met. Then he stood on tiptoe, endeavoring to raise his eyes to the level of the window hasp. After a few moments ho stepped backward, rubbing his chin and staring down at tho patch of clay under tho window. In a few moments more he raised his eyes and addressed himself to the young man overhead in a epiiet tone "The has]) of the front window has been forced back,'' said ho. "Eh?" exclaimed the young man, leaning well out of the window

Constable Metcalf repeated the information, adding, "Sash seems to have been jobbed at." "Hasp forced back!" exclaimed the young man. "That's rather strange,isn't it? Rather alarming." "Looks odd. Do you know anything about tho fastenings? Careful folk about their windows here, I should have supDosed."

(TO HE CONTINUED.)

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