Indiana State Sentinel, Volume 34, Number 17, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 May 1888 — Page 1

MoriK nsrn ut converted by rendintr un.l argument than by the noise ami enthusiasm of political meetings. Semi rour Uepuhlicaii neighbor a good, live IVmooralif paper. The Statk Skntinll be sent from the present tiiiic. or at any time clurir'f the cTif.:u!i, o the 1 Jay of January, lv:', lor use sw.ll sum of Sixty Cents. VOL. XXXIY-NO. 17. INDIANAPOLIS, WEDNESDAY, MAY 30, 1888. ONE DOLLAR TER YEAR

ßStrareressa2e BY DORA RUSSELL, Author of "Foottuixts in the Snow," "Tiik Broken Seal," "Tub Vicar's , Goveune-ss," "Anxahix's Rival." Copyrighted, 1S88.J

CIIAPTEI. XIL" IN THE GLEN. FIERCE atorm of passion swept JJ over JUddnlph's heart after ho had I 1 road this letter. Ho knew this woJ man's daring, detiant nature too well not to believe she would do as she had written. She was on her way, then, once more to disgrace him to bring scorn and scoffs upon his name. With bitten lips and muttered curses he looked at the date of her letter, and saw, as he did so, that Natalie (Mme. de Boranger, as she railed herself) would probably at this momeut be in the little village of Balla, naturally exciting gossip and comment there. And his anticipations were fully verified. Before the evening was over an especial messenger from the 6tnall hostelry it Calla arrived at tyinbaan, and a letter was handeil to Biddulph, the handwriting of which he knew only too well. Pear Ja MKS (lie read with suppressed fury) Here I am atr.iin. Send an answer with the 3Tikeint bearer of ray love-letter when it will please you to see your beloved wife once more It Dunbaan. Do not be long in deciding, lor four climate is killing. Yours ever, Natalie. First Biddulph flung his letter on the poor, and swore he would neither answer tt nor see the writer. But after a while Riser and more prudent thoughts prerailed. As she was here, he was conrincedshe would not goawavarain unless ?he was bribed to do so. VVith intense disgust in his heart, therefore, he sat down to appoint an interview. But not here. Some listener, he knew well, some spy in his household, must have spread the story of this unhappy connection in the neighborhood, or how had that wretched boy heard of the report? And he too (for he was observing) had noticed a change in the kind Scotch (ioctor's manner a change in the tone of his voice only, perhaps and how he had become suddenly reticent on the subject of Miss Stewart öf Rossmore. And he guessed aright. Jock Fräser and Mrs. Jock had both talked to their friend the doctor about Mr. Biddulph's supposed marriage, and young Malcolm's brow was black as night whenever his name was mentioned. "It's an unco' pity if it is so," the doctor had answered, '"for he's a vera fine fellow." But even the doctor was forced to admit that no man is justified in passing himself off as unmarried, ii he already possessed a wife. "And there is no doubt he pays great attention to Nora Stewart," said Mrs. Jock, "and she will hear nothing against him." "Weil, my dear," replied Jock philosophically, "Xora Stewart may know more about "this story than we do; Biddulph may have told her himself. My advice, row. is to leave the matter alone. Xora is not a girl to make a fool of herself w ith a married man." "When "the French woman," therefore, as they called her, returned to the village inn at Balla, her appearance there excited the created interest among the posips of .the neighborhood. The doctor had already heard that "Mr. liiddulph'.s wife" was "back again," when Biddulph himself by her own letter became aware of the fact. At last, pale and frowning, he wrote a few words in reply. Do not, I entreat yon, come here. I will meet you tomorrow afternoon in a secluded spot anion? the hills close to llaJIa, called the blen. to which any one in the neighborhood can direct you. If you go there at 3 o'clock alone, I shall be waiting for you. J. 1$. He dispatched this note, and then stood looking gloomily out on the dark waters of the loch. His thoughts were very bitter ones, for it seemed to him this endless worry of his life would never cease. Then he tried to raise his mind above the brief I'oys and sorrows of the world, telling limseli, as he lifted his eyes from the dark waters to the dark sky, that in a little while it would be all the same, disapapointment or success, blame or praise the woman he loved and the woman he hated, both be dim shadows when the end drew near. But with a restless sigh Biddulph knew that now this was not so. It needs, in truth, the chill touch of age to make a true philosopher. Through Biddulph's being the warm currents of youth still ran strong and vigorous, and Nora Stewart's sweet face ruse before him at this moment, filling his heart with passionate regret. The next day he went to keep the appointment he had made with absolute aversion. To see this woman again, to be asked for more money bv her 6coifing tongue, was gall and bitterness to Biddulph's soul. Yet he must do it, and so he went, crossing the loch on a gray and darksome October afternoon, in a mood as gloomy as the sky. The Glen of Balla is one of the wildest and most romantic pjiots of this romantic land. It is, in truth, a mountain pass, on cither si"e of which the granite masses rear their shaggy crests amid the waving birch wood and the dark nines. A narrow pathway runs the whole length of the c!en, and her, even amid the summer beat, the sunbeams seldom find their way, bo dense is the shallow cast by the towering peaks and huge crags which block the golden rays. HiiMulph had choeen this silent and Secluded spot because he wished, if possible, no one to witness a meeting fraught for him with bitterest pain. And at this season the probability was that, unless lome passing tourist wis st ravin? amid the damp, moss-girt rock, only the wild (tame would fix their bright" inquiring eyes on the two whose love had grown so cold. And as Biddulph walked along tho ü.irrow way, this expectation seemed fulfilled. Not a sound was to be heard, and he went to the extreme end of the Glen without encountering a living thing. Was she going to play him false?" I19 thought angrily, glaucing at his watch, as lie turned to retrace hia steps. It was 3:30 o'clock now; but then, she might have missed her way, ho presently reflected. A moment he stood still, looking iipvarl at the narrow line of gray sky overhead, visible Ijctween the stoop crags. Ho ilghed impatiently, and some of the vague lUfstioning doubt which pass and repm hrongh our minds when the nhadows lie ithwart our path of life, and the web eem tanglea or broken, stole into Bidialph's heart, "Why should this be?" be thoaght

I moodily; 6S we all, perhaps, have thought i when some heavy blow falls, and its

weight seems too great to bear. He felt oppressed ajid downcast; the dark, frowning mountain' side, the gloomv heavens, tho murky air, and, maybe, the strange warning instinct that tells tho birds of the approaching storm, alike seemed to fill Biddulph's mind at this moment with a strong sense of impending ill. ' And suddenly, sharp and distinct, a3 he stood, there sounded in his oars the crack of a rifle, and a swift messenger of death passed him. grazing his shoulder, and went on. lie started, turned, and the next instant a wild shriek, a scream of terror and fear seemed fo rend the air. "What is it ?" cried Biddulph, loudly; and his voice echoed through the glen. A nother shriek, prolonged and agonized, was the reply a woman's shriek. And Biddulph, quickly recovering himserf, now ran forward. A jutting block of granite in front, near the spot where he had been standing when the shot passed him, here partly lud the pathway behind it; but in a moment Biddulph had passed this obstruction, and on the other sida of it a woman was half kneeling, waving her arms frantically, and, as Biddulph approached her, she rose and came tottering forward, and he saw who it wa3. ' "Wretch, wretch, you have murdered mo!" she cried in gasps, and then again fell forward, the blood gushing in torrents from her side. "I swear I have nof" said Biddulph, running toward her, and lifting her in his arms. The woman's face was ghastly the face of Natalie and her breast was heaving in the throes of death. "Who has done this?" asked Biddulph, bending over her and trying to staunch the red tide. She tried to speak, her dark eyes rolled in her head, each breath grew a sob. but no words came from her white lips. Then she flung 4)ack her head, her arms fell down, a shiver passed through her frame, avd she died died on Biddulph's breast, the woman he had wedded long ago. Inexpressibly shocked and horrorstricken, he laid her gently down on the sward, and, leaving her for a moment, hurried to a little gushing streamlet amid the rocks, and, having filled his cap with water, returned to hor si le. But as he knelt down, he 6aw it was no use. Death had laid its gray, rigid finger on the once familiar features, and the strange change had come which marks the soulless clay. He rose; he stood gazing at her, and his memory went back to his boyish love, and the long years of annovance and shame it had brought upon his head. And this was the end! A stray shot (for he saw in a moment what had killed her) the riflehall, which had just missed him which had, indeed, grazed and tlightly wounded his shoulder, though, in the excitement, he never felt the pain had pierced her side, and probably touched her heart, as her death had occurred a few moments after she was wounded. Ashe stood, looking at her the idea darted into Biddulph's mind that the man w ho had fired the fatal shot would probably be near, and he therefore commenced shouting loudly for assistance. But no answer came except the echo of his own voice ringing among the cru-rs. Then for the first time it occurred to Biddulph the position he was in. A dead woman by at his feet a woman he had asked to meet him in this lonely spot, and it behooved him, therefore, at once to call witnesses to prove his innocence of her tragic end. He remembered the doctor, and no sooner had this thought struck him than he acted on it. One backward plance he gave, half in pitv, at the dead Natalie, and then, as fast us he could go, he hurried out of the Glen on to the straggling village of Balla, As he ran panting up the stoop hill that leads from the Glen to the village, he ferceived the doctor himself, starting on lis usual afternoon round, mounted on his shpggy Highland pony. lie waved his cap to attract his attention, and called, and tho doctor looked round and saw him saw a blood-stained figure, for Biddulph's own slight wound was now bleeding fast, and Natalie had died in his arms. "Mr. Biddulph," cried the doctor, in the utmost astonishment. "An accident has happened in the Glen 1" panted Biddulph. "A woman is lying there shot, I believe, dead. Come at once, doctor, though I fear there is no hope." "A woman?" repeated the doctor, and his expression changed. "Yes, a woman. A ball whistled passed me, just touched mv shoulder as it went," and he put his hand to his shoulder as he spoke, and for the first time perceived that he was wounded, for his coat was torn, and the blood trickling down the sleeve. The doctor by this time had dismounted from his pony, and, approaching Biddulph, proceeded to examine his injury. It wes a slight flesh wound, the rifle ball having torn the coat and the 6kin as it passed on its fatal errand, and the doctor, having looked at it, was about to commence stanching the blood, when Biddulph stopped him. "Don't mind me," he said "it is nothing; but the woman, I fear, is fatally hit." "I'll tie my handkerchief round it, anyhow," answered the doctor, producing a large red handkerchief from his pocket. "It s a near shave; why, mon, another inch and yer shoulder-bane had been in splinters." 'Make haste, make haste," said Biddulph, impatiently; and the doctor, having hastily bound the wound, followed Biddulph into the Glen, and in a few minutes they camo to the spot where the dead woman lay on the ground. The doctor knelt down, lifted her hand, looked at her white face, and his own weather-beaten countenance grew very pale as he did so. Then he slowly raised his eyes and looked at Biddulph. "Mr. Biddulph," he said, almost sternly, "is this murder?" "If you mean," answered Biddulph, indignantly, a sudden flush dying in his faee at the mere suspicion that the doctor's word3 implied, "did I raise my hand against her life, I certainly did not." "Yet this is the leedy, ia it not, that they said "This ladv is known to me," interrupted Biddulph, haughtily; "and I had ackod her to meet uie here to arrange some business pending between us, rather than create more gossip by seeing her at Dunbaan. I was waiting for her; we had not met wlmn the shot grazed my shoulder, and, I believe, killed her, for a moment later her dentil shrieks filled the air." Tho dotor listened, rose from his knees and grabbed Biddulph's hand. "God be thanked!" he said; "and His chief mercy is, the ball scratched ye a bit as it passed. The world is full of evil tongues, Mr. Biddulph, but a mon cau't vera weel shoot himself in the back, and therefore what can they say? Ay, poor soul," ho added, looking down again at the rigid face lying on the ground. "She's beea shot- by mistak, na doubt, by one

of Ahck Frazer's new keepers; but we must find the loon." CHAPTER XIIL BIDDirLPIl's STORY. Half an hour later the poor lifeless form was carried into the little village of Balla. and Biddulph noticed that people looked at him with lowering glances, and shrank away from him, as he followed the bearers of the dead. But tho doctor walked manfully by his side, and ostentatiously took him into his surgery to dress his wound. "It's a vera bad business," he said to one of the bystanders, "but it might ha' been worse, for the same shot that killed the leedy just missed killing Mr. Biddulph as weel.'' Thy man he addressed, with characteristic Scotch caution, made no reply. Ho was the keeper of the little hostlerv where the dead woman had lodged, and" where, only the night before, she had boasted, under the intluence of repeated glasses of whisky, that she could make Mr. Biddulph of Dunbaau give her anv amount of money she chose to ask him for. And now she lay cold and stark, with a bullet in her breast, after mooting this same Mr. Biddulph in the Glen. It had an ugly look, at all events, the Highland innkeeper reflected; and his thoughts are shared by the weird old women, who crept out of their smoke-filled cabins to see the "dead leedy" carried past. Almost the whole of the inhabftants of tho village, indeed, turned out to see the sad sight. The doctor had decent! v covered her face, but the bloodstains on her gown and cloak were only too visible. And now the question arose, where was she to be taken? The innkeeper objected to receive the dead body, on the score of his customers' feelings. But the doc-tor, with his larger intelligence, was ready to take it under his roof-tree. "Ah. poor soul, she'll not hurt ye," he said, und he bade the men carry the dead woman into his house, and lay her in tho best parlor. "The kitchen will serve me weel enough on a pinch," he remarked. "Now, come along, Mr. Biddulph; I must ha' a look at yer shoulder." When he was dressing it, Biddulph, who was very pale, said, with some agitation of manner "I believe they think I shot the poor woman, doctor. I shall offer a reward of two hundred pounds to discover the man who did." The doctor did not speak for a moment ; then he said slowly : "Ye are a rich man, are ye not, Mr. Biddulph?" "At least, I am not a poor one." "Then oiler three hundred; it's worth the money to clear yer name of a foul stain." "Very well ; I offer three hundred, then; and let everything be done decently and well." "Ye mean about the burial? Ay, ay; but that won't be yet. The poor creature's death will ha' to be inquired into, and the evidence taken. But don't fash about it to-night; ha' some whisky, and then I'll walk down to the loch wi' ye, and see ye again in the morn ; and I'll tell the folks round about the reward." The doctor was as good as his word, and Biddulph was presently rowed across the mi.-ty loch, in a state of strange and mixed emotion, lie could scarcely, indeed, realize the great change that had come to his life during the last two hours. He was a free man now ; and yet something in Iiis Heart the dead woman's hist awful looks and dying cries forbade him to rejoice. And the knowledge, too, that the circumstances of her death might cast a suspicion on himself was not an agreeable retlection. "But it is impossible that any one could really believe this," he consoled himself by thinking, at the very moment when half the neighbors at least were saying what a dreadful thing it was about Mr. Biddulph shooting his wife! One of the first to say this was Alick Fraser. Biding home through Ba'la, he heard the story from the innkeeper, and, after considering a minute or two, turned his horse's head and rode straight to Bossmore. He felt some satisfaction in the idea that he should bn the person to tell Nora Stewart the dreadful news. "I wonder what she will say now?" he grimly reflected, as he proceeded up the steep" avenue ; and he was pleased also when he was admitted aifcl ushererl into the drawing room, where he found Nora alone. He had never seen her since the day of the accident on the hills, and, looking at her now with his keen brown eyes, he noticed a change in the expression of her face a subtle sadness, a weariness, which was not there before. He went up to her couch and shook hands with ner warmly, telling her how pleased he was to see her again. "I've heard from Jeanie constantly about you. you know, but I did not like to intrude until I thought you were really well enough to 6ee me. W ell, the hero of that day when you sprained your foot is likely to come to a fine end." "What do you mean?" asked Nora, with whitening lips. "You have not heard the last sensation in the neighborhood, then?" went on Alick, with hard relish, when a softerhearted man would have shrank from inflicting pain. "Biddulph shot his wife this afternoon in the Glen, and is as likely as not to l! tried for murder, as the police have been communicated with." Nora dkl not speak; she tried to utter some commonplace words, but her woice was dumb. "I never liked the fellow; I don't know how it ws-V proceeded Alick, still enjoying the situation. "An honest man has po right to pass himself off a3 unmarried to young ladies wheD he has already a wife;" and he smiled. "And did ho do this?" asked Xora, in a strange, altered voice. "Saj I understood. Why, Jeanie told me you would not believe ho vas married. Miss Nora; but he was, sure enough." "Nor do T believe," said Nora, lifting her head and fixing her dark eyes on Alick Fraser's face, her voice broken and vibrating with emotion, "that he would' wilfully lift his hand to injure any woman. I believe this story is false; hat it is invented by people who hate him. "Well, young lady, if that is your opinion I think you will find yourself mistaken," said Älick disagreeably. "But, a3 this tragedy happened on my property,' I must be olf to look into it. 1 know the sheriff very 'well. Mr. Biddulph shall find to hi3 cost that he cannot indulge in any little private shooting matches in Scotland." Ho approached her, and would have taken her hand in his strong grasp, but Nora's cold fingers scarcely touched his own. And hardly was he gono when a sudden resolution came into her mind. She would warn Biddulph of his danger; she would, woman-like, have him do what, under tho circumstances, would be the most foolish thing possible. She stretched out her hand and rang a small hand-bell fiat stood on a table near her; and when her young footman, Alfred, replied to her summons, she

desired him to tell her maid to come to her. A minute or two later a smart blackeyed girl made her appearance, and Nora beckoned her to her side. "Palmer," she said, speaking quickly and nervously, "would you be afraid to let Afred row you across "the loch ?" "This evening, miss?" asked Palmer, in surprise. "Yes, now. I am going to trust yoi ; I only want Alfred to Know. I I want a letter taken quickly ard quietly to Mr. Biddulph, at Dunbaan." Palmer cast down her black eyes for a moment contemplatively. In the servants' hall already the subject had been discussed oi Mr. Biddulph's supposed crime. "I will do anything you wish, miss," she said, the next instant; "and Alfred will do anything I ak him," she added, with a smile. "Thov have been talking downstairs " "Never mind what they have been talking about," interrupted Nora hastily. "Get on your hat as quickly as you can, and tell Alfred to go down to the loch at once and have the boat ready for yon. Don't toll any one where you are going; say I am sending you .vith a message if you are asked. And reach me my writingcase; my letter will be ready in two minutes, and I want you to place it in Mr. Biddulph's own hands." "I'll be ready directly, miss," said Palmer; and so she was, and with a trembling hand Nora gave her the few words she had written. Dear Mr. Biddclpu: I wish to see you at o:n so will yon return fl'TOb.1 the loch with the hearers of this cote. Do please come, as this c most important. Very bincer. lv yours, Leonora Stewaet. After she had dispatched this, Nora sat counting the minutes bv the clock cn the mantlepiece with a fast-beating heart. He would have time to go away, she thought, before an ofiiti"l inquiry about this woman's death could be made. Not that she believed the story it was some invention or mistake; still, he had better know, had better hoar, what Alick Fraser had said. And he would come yes, she felt sure ho would come, Nora thought, with a flush on her cheeks, and a deep nervous excitement in her heart. And she was right. Biddulph was sitting thinking gloomily enough at Dunbaan, when he was ted J a young woman had brought a letter for him, and had been ordered to deliver it into his own hands. He looked up as old Donald gave him this information, and, thinking it was probably f'-om Dr. Alexander, he desired the young woman to be shown into the room. And presently the b'ack-cyed. sprightly Palmer appeared. "Miss Stewart desired me to give you this, Mr. Biddulph," she said, with a smile; for Mr. Biddulph was very good looking, Palmer wa3 reflecting, even if he had murdered his wife. Then Biddulph read the letter, and a flush stole to his pale face as he did so. "Miss Stewart wishes to see me," he said, now speaking to Palmer. "Is there room in your boa; for me to cross with you ?" "Oh yes!" answered Palmer, with decision; "Alfred is very slight he can sit anvwhere." Palmer was generally supposed -to be OPgigod to Alfred .v,t sh always snoke of him rather disparagingly, though he was really a very good-looking young man. "Well, that is settled, then," said Biddulph, with a smile. "I shall be ready in one moment." And half an hour later he was standing in the prosencc.of Nora Stewart standing pale and deeply moved, with his gray eyes luli of emotion, fixed upon her changing face. "You have 6ent for me?" ho Baid, as their hands clasped. "Yes, because because " "Because," went on Biddulph, as Xora hesitated, unable to lind wordai, "you have heard what happened this afternoon? You have sent iur me because you at l".st do not believe I would commit murder? Is this so?" "I have sent for vou to warn you," answered Nora, with trembling lips. "I know nothing of this story; I trust you that is enough. I do not and will not believe you would wilfully hurt anyone; but but if an accident happened "An accident happened, and a woman died, Miss Stewart, but not by my hand. You have heard something of this story, I daresav; shall I tell vou tell you the whole of "it?" "If you will; if it will not pr.in you." "It will pain me, for it has been all shame and pain from the beginning until now. Since since you have honored me with your friendship, it has often trembled ön my lips. But I naturally shrank from telling such a tale to you. I shrink now, yet it is better you should hear." "I am ready to listen, Mr. Biddulph." Biddulph did not speak for a moment. He began walking slowly up and down the room, his eyes fixed before him, w ith a far-away expression on his face. "It is a long time to go back to," he said at length. "I was a boy of nineteen, a lad at college, when the tragedy that ended to-day began. I was at Cambridge at this time, and an accident happened there on the river one day a foolish young fellow was nearly drowned. But I need not trouble you with this storv; it is sufficient to tell you I got a chill and a fever, and went home first, and was then sent by father (my mother was dead) to Calais for a change. "I went to a boarding-house there I knew nothing of the world and this house was kept by a certain Mme. Beranger and her daughter, Natalie. I see the old woman still," went on Biddulph, with a break in his voice, as if making an effort to speak calmly; "I see her with her shrewd dark eyes, her dusky skin, and hor dyed ha'irl And Xatalie, she was then twenty-nine, ten years older than I was, a woman bright, gay, and I, in my boyish folly, thought handsome. But she was not handsome ; she was flattering, amusing and clever, and she had bright dark eye3, and I believed I was in love with her" I suppose I believed so at least, we were lovers and by-and-by they told me I must marry her; that a child was about to be born. ".Miss Stewart, I did marry her: I thought in honor I could do nothing else, and then I discovered it was all a lie. There was no child about to be born. Natalie and her mother had deceived me, and both now laughed in my face. At least Natalie did; the old woman had more prudence, but tho young ono had none. "But they had secured me, the only son of a rich English lawyer, and they cared for nothing else. It was not until I told them that I had no money of my own that I was certain that if my father knew of my mad act he would -cut me off with a shilling, that they began to doubt whether they had dono a good, thing- for themselves or not. "Tho marriage was kept a secret, because they feared if it were known that I should lose my fortune. It is twelve years since now, and it has hung like a rope round my neck ever since. I returned to

England, I went back to college, but vou can understand with little heart. My life, in fact, was spoilt, and as years went on this tie became to me more and more burdensome. It grew, indeed, utterly loathsome, and I never saw the woman I was ashamed to think of as my wife. I passed at the bar, but 1 did not care to practice; any name I might have won, I knew, was aheady blackened for me, and I did not wish for success, which might only serve to drag to light this disgraceful story. "My father allowed me an income of eight hundred a year, and this I always shared equally with Natalie. The money was sent regularly through my lawyer, and I never saw nor heard from her for years. Then my uncle died, and I succeeded to the property at Dunbaan, and to a considerable sum of ready money. I came down to Scotland, as you know, and I especially desired my lawyer to keep my accession of fortune a secret, and I have every reason to believe that he did so. Yet one day, Miss Stewart, about two months after I made your acquaintance, one morning, alter I had dined the evening befero at your hou.-e, I found freshly carved ou the trunk of a tree in the avenue at Dunbaan, this woman's name. I was overwhelmed, maddened; and a few days later 6he appeared at my house, and told me what she had come for. She wanted

her income doublvd, and two thousand ounds. She hail lound out I had been eit money, and the had become a notori ous gambler. I giye her what she wanted on one condition-sho was to go away, and not to utter a single word of the tie between us. "But here let me do myself justice. Mis3 Stewart, vou are the one friend whom I have made here, and to you I meant to confide my secret. I meant to tell you, or at least partly to tell you, that day of the picnic on the bids. But you know how that ended; then your illness interfered, and the last time lsaw you the time when young Malcolm Fraser came in while I was here to ray surprise, on leaving, I found him waiting for me in the avenue, and in insulting language he requested me to cease my acquaintance with you, his cousin, as 1 was a married man." "What!" said Nora, a burning blush spreading over her foce; "did Malcolm dare to do this?" "He dared to do this, and more. He absolutely struck me, but he got the worst of that." "I am ashamed, utterly ashamed of him, Mr. Biddulph. He is a mad, stupid boy." "But this mad, stupid boy's folly told me one thing, that Natalie had broken her promise, and I wrote and told her so told her I would reduce her income to it3 former amount if this went on, and to my great anger she answered this letter in person. Miss Stewart, do you now begin to understand ? This unhappy woman came down here, and wrote to ask me when I could see her at Dunbaan; and to 6ave further scandal, I asked her to meet me in the Glen at Balla, where I hoped our meeting would be unseen." . "Oh, Mr. Biddulph !" cried Xora, bending forward with parted lips and clasped hands. "I went this afternnon," continued Biddulph, with some emotion "wert with a bitter and angry heart, and waited in this lonely, silent place; and as I stood waiting Miss Stewart. I swear to God I am speaking the truth a ball whistled past me. grazed my shoulder and tore my coat, and the next moment Natalie's "dcathslirieks filled the air. "I ran forward; I met her terrified, dying. She died in my arms. She thought I had murdered her. It was a ghastly scene; but my hand is guiltless of her blood. You believe this? Do not look so pale ; tell me that you believe me innocent of a hideous crime I" "I do, I do!" said Norn, with a sort of sob, stretching out her hand, which Biddulph took. "I kit, oh, Mr. Biddulph, I am afraid afraid lor you." "You moan that 1 shall probably be accused of her murder? This, I think, can hardly be. I went to the Glen totally unarmed. I walked openly through the village of Balla, and my boatmen rowed me across; and this poor woman was shot with a rifle, and the ball struck, or rather grazed, mv shoulder first." Still, Aliek Fraser said " "What has Mr. Alick Fraser said?" asked Biddulph, with a sort of smile. "Do you remember our conversation not long ago about instinct, and I told you Mr. Alick Fraser was my enemy ?: "Yes," said Nora almost with a shudder. "And strange," continued Biddulph, "I felt as I stood waiting for poor Xatalie, as if something were about to happen as if a dark hour in my fate had come " "Go away, Mr. Biddulph," said Xora eagerly; "this is why I sent for you. Alick Fraser said the police had been communicated with. Go, before they have time to do anything." "And leave them to blacken my name," answered Biddulph with some pride. "No; I am innocent. I am not going to run away, which would be very unwise, you know, as I should be certainly caught;" and Biddulph smiled. But Nora did rt smile; her dark eyes wore fixed on his face full of anxiety. "It is more than good of j'ou," continued Biddulph, "to interest yourself in my fate, and I dare not trust myself to speak of my gratitude; but when this dark cloud is blown over, may I come and talk to you again?" r "Do not wait until the dark cloud is blown over; come to-morrow, any day. We are friends, and true friends are the lame to each other in the sunshine and the storm. Perhaps you are right to stay ind face it; and and what can they really say?" ; "Probably a good many things ; but now you know the truth, and you can still call ia vour friend?" "Yes, and I am not ono to change." Biddulph bent down and kissed first one of her trembling hands and then the other. "I have something, then, to carry away with me to my lonely home," he said; and before Nora could answer him he was gone. (To le continued ti.rt week.) A Pen of Counterfeiters. Fobt Wayne, May 22. Special. Deputy Federal Marshal Wilkinson and a posse from this city went to Geneva, Adams county, today and raiJed a den of counterfeiters. They captured William Bain, Amos Walker, John Weilmau and secured plaster of paris moulds for making clever counterfeit coin of the dime, 60 cent and $1 denominations. The queer pieces were finished on an electric plate apparatus, and would deceive most people when properly finished. Brun is a jeweler and the leader of the gang. He has a tine store at Geneva, a wife and a pretty daughter in nocicty, and he was caught in the very of making the bogus coin. His accomplices are farmers, and three more arrests win be made to-morrow. The party had a lot of money and instiuctions fpr making it ou hand. They Bold it for 25 and 35 cents on the fl. nnd did an extensive trade as far E&Mt as Sew York. This is regarded aa a great catch and Involves some of the lendim people of Geneva. The prisoners are in jail cere and after a pnliminaav hearicg to-morrow will be taken to Indianapolis.

THE OPAL'S DEADLY SPELL.

A COMMON SUPEFTITION'S PROOF. How a Thief Restored a Family's Happiness by Purloining on Ante-Nuptial King A Jeweler Who Will Not Handl the Tretty Sioces. THE proprietor of a prominent Chicago jewelry house, says the Chicago Globe, pushed aside a small tablet of soft white wax in which he had arranged ia a graceful design oriental rubies and diamonds, as jewelers are wont to place gems that their customers may judge of their elfcct when set, and of the form of the ornamt nt, and in response to a question which had been asked him, said: "Yes, although I don't wear them nor allow any of my family to do ho, I keep them in stock for those who want them. I believe I can assert, without fear of contradiction, that this is the finest stom; .of its kind ia Chicago." As he spoke he held up a magnificent onr.l, which from its tender, translucent surface flashed forth the red flame of the carbuncle, the soft refulgence of the purple amethyst, the golden glow of the toja., and ihi rare green ray of the emerald, all minglir.g and gloaming in such a changeful way as to form a most, fascinating combination. "It is handsome," said the merchant, in response to an exclamation of admiration. "It is really a very fine gem. It is ono of the precious opals from the Czcrwenitz mines in Hungary. This particular stone was taken from Mt. Simonka. The finest opals in the world come from the two mountains Simonka and hi mbanka. "Have I any superstition in regard to them? No, I don't know that I have," and he turned the gem so as to catch the light. By the way, it is a curious fact in life that nö one could by his own showing be convicted of being superstitious, notwithstanding that it would be quite impossible to find anvone who has not a strain somewhere in his composition of this quality. "Of course," continued the dealer in precious metals and gems, "it would be absurd to attach any power over fortune either for good orilfto a stone. Indeed, by the ancients, opals were believed to bestow every possible good. Kvea in the middle ages and as late as the seventeenth century they were generally supposed to insure "good fortune. I have otten wondered what changed all this and caused the opal to be regarded as a harbinger of ill. Possibly one reason is that "it. is a very diffcult stone to cut on account of the fissures which traverse it; and which are filled with air and moisture. For this reason it often happens that opals r.re ruined in being cut and polished, which i, of course, decidedly unlucky. It is almost impossible to engrave an opal, and there are very few vrh'h are engraved. I bcHeve the finest and mot valuable engraved opal in the world is in the Hope collection. This opal is an inch in width and an inch and three-quarters in length. Tho engraving upon it is an alo relievo representation of the head of Apollo, surrounded by rays of lire. "It often happens that simply wearing an opal will ruin it, but psilo from tho fact that the gem is po easily injured, I beiiove that the bad repute into which it has fallen is, at least in part, due to Hr Walter Scott's novel, 'Anne of (ierstein." However, in my time I have i.Tsoiial!y known some strange things about opals. I have been in business now twenty-eight years, and I never knew muoh prosperity imd happiness to be mixed up with them." It needed only an air of interested attention and a few leading questions to elicit some of these incidents. "The first time," said he, "that I ever sold an opal was a few months after I became a salesman. And the first time I sold one I sold two; there is a bull for you. A young couple who had about as bright an outlook in life as any two people could have became engaged. They wt re great admirers of opals, and they exchanged very handsome opal rings, which they purchased of me. There was some discussion in regard to opals being unlucky. but these two persons were young and strong and happy, and they uMd not care a rush lor any uivth under the sun. So they exchanged their rings and were soon married, and were the envy of all who knew them. However, no sooner were they married than one misfortune followed another as swiftly, a.3 unavoidably, as did tho reported misfortunes of Aiüon'o, the 'Merchant of Venice.' Not only did misfortune, sickness and death seem to take up their alode with this couple, but as if there could be no gleam left to br ghten the gloom of their lot, it was quite generally known that serious domestic inlelicity existed, which was of such a nature that it threatened the integrity of their home. "After they had been married about five years, among the the numerous misfortunes a recital of which would read like some doleful, over-extravagant tale whicii had overtaken this couple, the opal ring belonging to the gentleman, together with a few other Valuables which he still possessed, was stolen. He came to me and requested nie to 'keep an eye out' for th! opal. Now, both the opals had been peculiar and could be recognized by an oxpert. The one which had been stolen w as not only of an unusual shape but the rao:-t reflected rays were green and yellow, dashed in a peculiar way and mingled with deep blue and bright "red. The one belonging to the lady had a small mark on the under surface, the shape of a heart. "A short time after tho gentleman's ringand other valuables were stolen, the allairsof the coupie began to mend. The strained domestic relations were adjusted and happiness came to them with apparently as little cause as had misfortune and distress. Let me see that was twenty years ago. Now comes the strange part of the storv. About five years ago I was here in the store attending to the usual round of business, when a ragged little boy came in and handed me . a bit of soiled paper, upon which was scrawled an earnest request to come at once to a room not far distant. The note closed with. 'This request is made by a dying awn, and bore the signature of a man whom I had known well, and whose name had been coupled with the lady of w horn I have already told you, and whose life, together with her husband's, had been so miserable and was then so happy. "The man was in a dying condition wheif I reached him and gave me no greeting, but merely said, 'I know you will not refuse a "favor to a man who at most can live but a few hours.' Handing ' me a small parcel he continued: 'I think you will recognize it. I will tell vou at once, while I have strength, what I want and how I came by the ring.' "I opened the parcel and recognized the opal engagement ring which I bad 6old fifteen years before. It was not the one which had been stolen, but the one w Inch

had belonged to the lady, and, to put it very mildly, I was amazed. He saw my asionished, doubtful look and said, 'I do not wonder you are surprised. 1 met the woman who once wore that ring about ten months aiter her marriage. We happened to vbe thrown together a great deal, and soon boenme so fond of each . other that life was a burden

to us both. was good ttomau, and at last she told me that we mut meet no more. It was one morning when we hid been walking in the garden; we were standing by a little shaded p"Ol, and she talked to me as I never heard a woman talk before or since. She took the ring I ju.t gave you from her linger and declaring, with heartfelt bhternesi, that she hated it, she threw it from her into the puol. Thou, touching her marriage ring, she said that it should be t-acrod to her r.s long as she lived, and then k it me, and I hae never seen her since. I recovered the ring, and while 1 lived nothing could separate me from it. The years I have carried it have been crowdvd with distress, but through hung- r and cold and ulter d- hiitution 1 did not pan with iL' "He lived but a few hours. I dpos."d of the ring :s he directed, and did ail for tin? poor fellow that a living man could do for one who had p..--ed bvyond life's wants. The stolen opal was never recovered. The couple who exchanged opal engagement rings are wtll-known people and are living on the south side, pro.-per oc.s and happy. Vi course they never knew what I have told you. S j much for thoe two opals. "Upon another occasion a young man ordered the mot beautiful set of opals I ever saw for hid bride. The set included a necklace, and the opals were magniiicetit, and each one of them was set about with diamond-. Financial misfortune and marital infelicity were the lot of thi? couple also. At lat thvre came a divorcesuit, and the owner of the maguincent opal set went to work in an ciliee net six blocks from this very spot. At last tho pressure of poverty was such that she brought her jewels to me and a-ked me to dispose of thern for her. When she mad-3 the request she wept like a child. There is one thing about opals: they seem always, to have had, time out vi mind, a peculiar fascination for tho-e to whom they belong. Pliny, I believe it is, relates that the lioman Senator Novirus was proscribed by Marc Antony on account of an opal about the size of a hazel-nut, which was valued at s?i(K.,O00. Novirus made his escape from Borne with his gem, preferring exile with his opal to Living la iiome without it. "Well, no sooner had the laly disposed of her opals than her fortune charged. Within six months she married a gentiemau of wealth, and I don't know a happier woman in Chicago than the is at the present time. "Of course," continued the gentleman, "it is absurd to attribute rny powtr either fe-r good or id to u piece of iridescent stone. I have no foolish scruples about them. If I do not wear them, I sell them; but," ha continued, as he turned to serve a customer, "one of the largest jew elry houses in Chicago docs not handle opals at all. They have never had onj in ti e hui.se, and do not even order them for customers.-" Further inquiry confirmed the fact as stated; one of the h ading jeweby firms of Chicago will have nothing w r.atever to do with opals. Arid ttiisisa practical i..u:e,;!u age of material accouipi:;iment ; un ago of reason and superstition n a thing cf the pa-st. M'.ULIFFE WHIPS GLOVER. The Chirac Man oe I)-ti After Over Three Hour f Fislitinj. Sax Francisco, May 22. It w;;s 11 o'clock last nis;'üt be lore the sparring exhibitions between local cclebi-iiies a; the roi.ms el the California athletic chili wer-' cuin lu-i.-d. At that hour Jee MeAuli:i, the champion heavy weight of the Pacific coast, and frank .Höver, the well-known puviiit oi 1 "ii:: j; stoi pel over the rone to rwgiii their ficrht t a Cribli for $'l,(Xi0a shls an ! a parse of $1,7.' oll. red by the California dthietio club. Aftt-r the uual preliminaries time was cü1o1. Toe n.eii f-j.trrcd cautiously for a lull nuaute, wh.n McAiüIüd led out Mrongly with his rLrht, hating Glover on the neck and sending hi';' down a::dd ths jipplauseoi' Ute peetai". lis vra on Lis feet in un instant, when the men clinched, hut broke away, isevt ial other -Iinch-s followed in quick suece.siir) vrht.ii the round c l--d. I'unng the lirst eight rounds there was little nlvanta::e gained ly either man. 'lover got in a hard oi.e w ith his left ou McAulhle's ta' in tlu- ninth. The run ml closed with McAuhtfe striking out w ith his left and hin dine at the side of (ilover's rh'ht eye, making a cut from which a lifrht tream of blood besmn to tlow. Th tenth round was deciiK-d in the San, Franciscan's favor. Very litde hitting wa done in the next three rounds. MAulUe struck Glover on the riht eye,' cariLg that raen.ber to ewc-11 very rapidly. Glover t'orcci the fichtiii;? in the fourteenth and j:ot in two hard ones, one on the nose und the ether in the stomach. In the siiu-enth Glover went dowa under a biow on the nek, and i.i the next round McAuüHe fell under a push. Jlover Appeared to pain advaut.ure at every clinch. Iii eye was beginning to close, but with this exception there se,-ui'd to Le laiie h;in$jü ia the tuen at the close f un hour's ti.htiic The twenty-third proved to be tue most f jirited round. McAuüi'.e pressed his mioonist into the corner and icMuist the ropes, ad in the meantime pounded Lim severely. Glover took the punishiaent will but vas not able to return the blows. The net few rounds appeared to he cei.erally in Glover's favor, lie lorred MeAiilifio hard, Lut the latter punished him several times, prineipa'ly on (he injured eye, w hi-h soon closed t-niircly. Glover'e face was f wollen terriVly, white the oi.ly marks to be bt-eu on McAnlii'c were a slight abrasion ou the ai m and a slightly j u!!ed up ye. In the lorty-i'iurih round, however, it became apparent that Glover wa priwiii' we;-k f.tM. MoAulLle struck him a terrible blow and knocked hiiu down uniir the rope?. This wai repeaU-d twice in ti c üiie round, uul the third time be fell on his faee jut us tune was culled. The i'rhi s. cOied to be cmb .1, and Glover was lifted by his second and feil into his chair like a h'S- Win n t!in- y as crdied, however, he cause forw ant phu-kily and re-ceivc-iT a roiIr.g cheer from the t-p-ctators. Ia this round MeAu'iiie hl all the nVhiirj:. pres.---iüi Glover iipüust the npes, but tailing to ret a knot k-low n. Glover stood up well v. the forty-sixth and forty-.-eventii rour.es atcl succeeded iu getting iu a hard one on MeAuhrte'i eye. tonic oi Glovers over-sanguine auioir r cried "He'll via ret." b :t the forty-ei-hth round f howed that Ii hope bh t'onc. MeAubi'e knocked him down, and when she Chicago man arose for the lorty-ninth lie eon! J barely stand. After a short period of spurring MeAulitle struct him twnv, and then landed a tcrritfo rifht-hanJer on his neek, which fcnt Lim to the lloor. w here he lay-on Ins ba k Lke a K':ul man, and failed to rbe v. hcu time wa called. The forty-nine rounds were fought in three hours r.nd tifteen minutes. Glover we',hed ia nt173 pound3 and McAuluVe t,u.eihiii; over Fully 2,000 men aad boys crow (led about the California athletic club rMins, where the Glover-.MeAulihe fisrht occurred lat iiL-ht, remaining there uiiwl 2 o'clock this im-rn-niu'.', when the livid eiide.l. The crowd made freqm nt rushes ou the front door which it was found necesar to barricade, mnkin? it impossible for anyone to leave the building until the close or the contest. Sevvnd email bone of McAu'ilVs tight hand were broken early in the Cht. maninj the t;s of that- member very painful. Glover, who was blind alter the fi-ht, and senseless for half mi hour, pcr.t to-tlay in a Turkish bath room, lie was ptti :iJed bva physieian.w ho foumi tint the puj;uit'i face "had b-ei terribly pur.ii-hed und h..- ribs injured. McAulttre showed no outward fciuns of"punit.hinent except a discolored eye find a liuuD on his forehead.