People's Pilot, Volume 6, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 July 1896 — THE-NEXT-HEIR. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE-NEXT-HEIR.

A Thrilling Recital of Adventure and L,oye.

Founded on Actual Occurrence In American Life.

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So he contented himself with writing him a note, telling him vaguely of some trouble, and bidding him to come to May’s house first thing next morning. In reality, so powerful was Cyril’s habit of depending upon his qousin, that the very fact of finding him within reach and call in his distress, had its influence in reassuring him, Late as it was he started off for the little house uptown, leaving instructions that his note should be given to Fred as soon as he awoke in the morning. The night-porter did not wait so long. As soon as locks and bolts had shut Cyril out, he ran up stairs where a gentleman, evidently just coihing off a journey, had been waiting (and listening) on the staircase. To him he handed the note. “You have earned your five dollars,” said Fred, for it was he. “Now good-night. Stick to the same story if you’re questioned further and give orders that they call me at eight o’clock in the morning.” With that—untroubled by a thought of poor Dolly and her anguish; on the contrary, full of guilty delight at the knowledge that he had her in his power—-Fred Hastings fatigued but triumphant, laid his head upon his pillow, and if the sleep of the just be any sweeter or sounder than his was, then the just are to be envied.

CHAPTER XXX. FRED’S CAPTIVES Meantime poor Dolly, recovering from her swoon, realized the full extent of the misfortune that had befallen her; the unhappy creature’s anguish knew no bounds, she , laid her golden head on Rose’s faithful breast and wept as if she would weep her very life away. “My husband! my husband! He will believe you false!” this was a thought that tortured her. Oh, worst 6f misery. Worse even than the loss of the beloved—to have that well beloved one to live think that the heart that so adored could yet betray him. “He will not believe it,” cried Rose, striving to comfort her. “He knows your faithful loving heart too well. He knows that even a bad woman is faithful to the man she loves, and how should he think ill of you, who is as pure as a child or an angel? I tell you that Cyril wont believe it.” “He will believe my own crutel letter,” she cried. “If any one had told him I was false, even Fred, he would not have listened, but I have written my own condemnation. He must believe that I am one of two things, a bad, false wife, or a mad woman. Oh, believe the last my love!” she cried wildly stretching forth her arras as if to her husband. “The last will soon be true. Believe that the wife who loved you, and will love you to the last, may be lost, may be dead, and may be estranged by cruel slander, may be mad from sorrow, but never false—oh, my love, my lost love. Never, never false.” Some plan for communicating with Cyril, and making him aware of her strait, was suggested by Rose, some hope of escape from their prison. Dolly listened with tho apathy of despair to all. “No use, no use. Before we could write, before we could reach him, Fred will see him and convince him that lam a wretch. He told me to my face that he would do so—he told me—me, Cyril’s wife, that he loved me—oh, God! how can such horrible wickedness be?” A burst of tears again relieved her almost frenzied brain; she threw herself into a chair exhausted. “I begin to comprehend his villainy now. Miss Ellis was true —my sincere friend—Fred has only been my enemy. If Cyril has ever slighted me his cousin has been the cause, as now he will be the cause pf his finally cursing and abandoning me!” And at the cruel image her own words conjured up, it really seemed as if the passion of her despair threatened at once her reason and her life. “If 1 should write to him—if I even could do so—he will think of that one false cruel letter, and refuse to read anything from me. * If I should escape and' go to him, he will drive away with horror the false wife, who, he believes, has be-

trayed him. No, no, lam ruined, lam lost; my heart is broken. Oh, pitiful Heaven let me die!” Thus she wept and raved, pacing wildly about the room, or lying, almost dead, on Rose’s bosom, until at last weary nature could endure no more, and she suffered herself to be persuaded to lie down and rest, if not for her own, then at least, as Rose suggested: "For the future heir of Huntsford’s sake.” “My child will never know its father,” she sobbed, desparingly. "He will think that I deceived him even in that. Oh, Cyril, my love, why was I such a foolish childish creature? Why didn’t I tell you everything, and show you all the doubts and fears, and jealous secret anguish of my heart? This villian has made mischief and trouble all throughout my married life, and I have never once suspected him!” Then a new torture beset her mind. “They take the children of bad wives away from them. He will take mine from me. No, no! oh, Rose rather pray that he may never find us; that baby and I may die togather, and this lonely prison be our grave!” At last she was hushed and still—worn out by the # unaccustomed violence of her own emotions. Still as she lay in Rose’s arm’s from time to time a bitter, heavy sob came welling up from her desolute heart, and shook her slight form cruelly.

The old farm house was hushed and still once more. The woman whom Hastings had addressed as “Nurse” had again retired to rest. Within the house nothing was heard, save the accustomed noises of the night, that rather serve to enhance than break the silence. The crackle of the bright wood fire, the ticking of an oldfashioned clock upon the stairs, that had long since announced the hour of one, the occasional scurry of some timid mouse behind the old wormeaten wainscot. Outside the stillness was only broken by the low murmuring of a rising wind, and the creaking of the leafless trees. Suddenly, and with startling distinctness, came to Rose’s wakeful ear another sound. She sat up, softly and noiselessly listening. Her movement disturbed Dolly’s uneasy slumber, and her blue eyes flew open wide with a new and strange alarm, % What was it they heard? Their frightened eyes questioned each other silently. The sound was as if some one was endeavor* ing, as quietly as possible, to scale the shed under their window. The terror of these unprotected women may be imagined. What new outrage was this? Presently they were aware of stealthy footsteps on the shed, pausing beside the window. Next minute came a light soft tapping on the glass, Terror kept them still and mute. The tapping was repeated a little more loudly. Rose made as if she would have sprung from the bed, but Dolly clung to her. “Don’t move,” she gasped. “Don’t speak. It is Fred come back again!” But a moments reflection served to convince them both that this fear, at least was groundless. Fred could have no motive for returning by way of their window, siqce the woman of the house was his servant, and in his pay. “Nor is it a robber,” argued Rose, “for certainly a robber wouldn’t knock. Miss Dolly my darling indeed I had better answer it. ” As she spoke she gently but resolutely fjeed herself from the little, trembling, clinging hands, and bent down close anainst the window. “Who’s there?” she called, very softly, and peering through the dim glass. Next instant she drew back with a low cry of jby. “Thank God! Oh, thank God! Oh, may Heaven bless you, Dick! I never thought to be so glad to your face! My darling!" as Dolly slipped from the bed and joined them at the window, “you nefed grieve no longer—you are safe; you will be cleared and restored —it’s Dick Ferret, and he says he’s come to save you!” # CHAPTER XXXlf’ how the Mouse got into the snare. “He has come to save me,” repeated Dolly, in a rapturous whisper. “Oh, may Heaven bless him for it! Dear, good Dick! Open the window Rose; let him come in, so that we can talk to more safel/.” But Dick knew better than that. “Winder won’t open,” said he, shortly: “it’s nailed down. Stand away till 1 knock the rest o’ this pane out. We can talk well enough then.” Obeying his instructions, both women stood farther away from the broken pane, which Dick with one sharp blow of his fist, verv quickly demolished; then the boy lay down fiat upon the shed, while Rose and Dolly crouched at the

locked door of their room, listening intently for any alarm that might possibly follow the crash of the falling glass—which noise, small and insignificant in itself at another time, sounded, in that silent place and hour, sufficiently loud and startling to arouse all the house Apparently no one heard it, for all remained quiet and still as death; and presently Dick’s round face appeared once more at the broken pane. “Your eyes is red with crying, misses,” said ie to Dolly. “Dont you cry no more, though. I’ve been with you all the time, I was behind the coach when you left the house; I was at the hotel and on the cars; I was outside the winder down-stairs, when that precious scoundrel was talking to you, and heerd him give his whole plans away ; and I’ll blow on to him master, and set you clear and square, don’t you fear! Oho, Mrs. Rose, who was right about Mr. Hastings, after all? I always said he was a bad lot all along, but you were down on me for even saying so.” “I didn’t doubt him myself said Rose,” “He always seemed a clever gentleman, and then, the master’s cousin.” “Oh, bother that!” said Dick contemptuously. “A man ain’t accountable for his relation’s sins, j had an uncle that was hung, myself, and I don’t feel any the worse for it!” They now began to suggest and consider a plan of escape. Rose proposed that Dick should return at once to town, and bring Cyril himself at once to rescue them. But this Dick would not hear of. “No” said he; “Mr. Hastings is a slippery customer; “if anything in town arouses his suspicions he’ll jump out here and move yon to another place before Mr. Cyril could get at you. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, Rose. I’ve got you two birds safe in my hand now, and I’m not going to let go of you!” “No, no!” said Dolly, eagerly. “Don’t go away without us Dick. Oh, if I were only out of that man’s reach and power I should fear nothing else!” “I’ll have you out,” said Dick, confidently; “only give me a little time to plan upon it” And he fell a thinking deeply; his -bright, round eyes fixed upon Dolly’s anxious face, and his acute brain evidently hard at work upon some feasible plan for her deliverance. “Say!” he began at last. “How does your door fasten on the inside?” “With a bolt answered Rose, readily. “And outside with a key,” continued Rose, “for I heard the old woman say so. Now look here you two,” the boy went on, somewhat for* getting respect in his eagerness, but that Dolly never noticed or cared for- “By this time it’s after two o’clock, and Mr. Hastings is on his way home again; there’s no danger from him, him, out here, before noon tomorrow. If. I could get in, and could get you out, right now what could Ido with you until morning? You, misses must have some rest, or you’ll break down on the road and be sick, and master’ll give me fits for not taking better care of you. Rose’ll get you to bed, and you lie down with an easy mind, trusting to Dick, whose promised you that he’ll save you, and when daylight comes, here’s what you'vo got to do: “I’ll tell yon first how things lie. If the old woman’s got anybody with her in the house she didn’t rouse them last night, nor tell ’em about you being here. I heard all she said to Hastings and after he’d gone, I scrambled up by a tree to the winder; she carried a light too, and there was no one with her in the room. This is important, you see for of course, if it’s so, we’ve only got her to deal with. “She’s a big woman—bigger, a sight than Rose and stronger. I’m but a boy myself, and mightn’t be able to tackle her—not that I am such a chicken, either,” added Dick with sudden pride and self-assertion, “or that doubt about knocking her over in any common business. But this here is a serious matter, misses, and I don’t want to take any risks in it.” Receiving with some gratification Dolly’s hearty approbation of ’this sentiment, he went on: “We’ve got to get you out the room and lock her in! It ain’t going to be coaxing neither.' She has got to be tied and fastened, tooth and nail, so that she can’t get out or squeal and I tell you she’s going to fight against it worse than a dozen wildcats. You two might manage it perhaps.” “Oh, no, no, no!” from Dolly. “But then again you mightn’t. And I might manage it alone, more likely; but I don’t actually hanker to try. The three of us togather, though tackling her at once would make the thing dead certain!” Both the women coinciding in this view, he continued: “So what you’ve got to ,do is just this—l’ll get into the house when morning comes; no matter how, that’s my business. When you hear the old woman opening your door, keep your bolt shot, and call out who’s ther? If she answers only, don’t let her in. Tell her you ain’t awake, or what you like, only keep her out until I come with her, But if, when you ask ‘who’se there?’ you hear my voice outside, then do just as I am telling you.

“Missis’ll draw the bolt and open the door, and the old cat’ll come in. If she has anything in her hands so much the better. Rose’ll be standing with a blanket up in her hands like she was making the bed; then Rose do you mind how Mr. Hastings served you the night we left Greendale? I thought so! Well, now’s your chance to pay him back, by serving the old cat the same!” “I’ll do it, too!” cried Rose with an angry flash of her dark eyes. “I’ll give him cause to wish he’d left me alone that night; you see if I don’t!”/ “Of course you will,” said Dick quietly. “The rest will be easy, then. So now you know what you’ve got to do, and you’d better be resting to get ready for it. As for me, I,ve got to get in the .house yet. but that won’t bother me much, I guess. Good-night. Go to sleep Miss Dolly. You’ll be back with your husband in the morning.” And before they could thank him, or even ascertain where and how he proposed to pass the remainder of the night, the boy’s sharp face and round, bright eyes had dissapeared from the broken window. Next instant the sound of scrambling, and a quick, light leap upon the ground announced his departure from the shed, and left them free to seek a few hours of the rest they stood so much in need of. Their sleep was sound and lasted long. The sun rode high in the Heavens when the sound of steady knocking and pounding on a door below broke in upon Dolly’s slumbers. She sprang up hastily and looked at her watch. To her dismay it was half-past eight o’clock. “Wake, Rose” she whispered, eagerly, as Rose’s eyes opened slowly and bewilderedi.y. “Do you hear that knocking? It is time that Dick should be here; let us be already for him, so as to lose not a momenj; when he comes.” Rose needed no second urging. Rising hurriedly, she prepared her mistress and herself for their proposed journey, and then the two took up their stations at the door, listening eagerly. The knocking stopped immediately after shuffling footsteps had been heard to descend the creaking stairs. “The old woman has slept late, too, I guess,” whispered Rose, “and its Dick.no doubt, who has aroused her.” She was right in both paticulars. The old woman had slept heavily after her previous night’s disturbance, and was still in the land of pleasant dreams when she was startled by an impatient pounding on the house door, loud enough, as she expressed it, “to awake the dead.” For, in truth poor Dick was impatient. The night had passed wearily enough to him, walking up and down the cold lanes, and resting in out-houses, minus supper, fire and bed. He had been determined not to put in an appearance at the farm-house until after the first train came in from town—which it did at eight o’clock—in order that he might report himself to the “old cat” as having come upon it. But now, when he did present himself at last, he had no idea of being kept waiting outside one minute longer than was neccessary. “One would think you wanted to bring the house down about our ears,” was the old womans angry greeting, to which he made answer quite as sharply: “One would think you was dead instead of asleep, and would need to be dug up out of your grave. Mr. Hastings won’t be any to well pleased when I tell how you kept me waiting.” At the name of Hastings the woman’s face cleared, somewhat, and she moved a little aside from the door. “If you come from him you’d better come in,” she said, though still sullenly. How was Ito know who sent you? And what do you come fer, anyhow?” Dick accepted the ungracious invitation without ever stopping to trouble himself about its style and tone. He looked around him and smiled contentedly; the first step toward success was taken, anyway; the mouse had made its way into the snare. “Mr. Hastings sent me off on the first train,” he said, discontentedly, “ and told me you’d give me some breakfast- It don’t seem that you’ve even got a fire, however, missis.” The old woman began to bestir herself - “There's fire in the ashes yet,” she said. I always rake it over and the kettle’s hot. I’ll have you a cup of coffee directly. What’s your business with me, young man?” Dick seated himself complacently by the fire that she quickly started, and warmed his tired and chilled limbs as he replied: “Word for you that a hamper’s a-coming down on the afternoon train with wine and things for the lady. I’ve got a message for the lady that I’m to deliver to. herself. ” The old woman—busied now in preparing coffee—looked around at him with a sharp, halfsuspicious glance. “You’ve got some letter or writing for me from Mr. Hastings to let me know its all right?” she said. I’de hardly let you into the lady’s room without that. ” Die k looked at her with immense contempt.

“Why, what a suspicious old party you are!” said he, cooly. “There’s such a thing as being tpo suspicious, my dear soul. No, I ain’t got no writing from my master either for you or for her. Gents don’t usually write letters in bed at six o’clock in the morning ’specially after they’ve been knocking around all night, and that’s where Mr. Hastings was when he seat me ofl. How the deuce would I know anything about you, or him. or her, or the hamper either, unless he told me?” Sophistical as this question and argument was, there was something about the manner in which Dick propounded it that gave it weight with his listener. She hesitated still, but the look of suspicion passed from her scowling face. “As for me.” continued Dick, stretching him self comfortably before the now glowing fire, “it don’t matter to me either way. I’m sent here by my master and I’m come. I’ve got orders to deliver a message to the lady, and you won’t let it be done. “Of course its you that’ll answer for that, not me. I ain’t going to have no row about it, There’s no secret in the message,” pursued Dick, thoughtfully, as if arguing the matter with his own conscience. “I suppose you might come into the room with me, if you liked, and hear what I’ve got to say.” This was a masterly suggestion. The old woman in spite of her devotion to Fred and willing, ness to serve him blindly, was, in truth, consumed by secret curiosity about the lady who had come so mysteriously, and apparently so unwillingly, into her hands. Here might possibly be an opportunity of getting at the truth of the matter. ‘‘There can’t be any harm in that,” she said. “Well I’m going up with breakfast now; you can come along, and see if she’ll let you in.” She took up a small tray, on which she had already placed some rolls and coffee, and ascended the rickety staircase, Dick following closely, and with a wildly beating heart. She paused at the door, her hands being encumbered by the tray, and turned to the boy. “You turn the key,” she said.

Dick obeyed, and gave the door a push, meeting, of course, with immediated resistance from the bolt inside. “Who’s there?” demanded Dolly’s tremulous toi^s. “Breakfast,” answered the old woman, sharply—“and a messenger.” A momentary pause inside. Dick applied his knuckles to the door over the woman’s shoulder. “Messenger from Mr. Hasiings, misses,” said he. Instantly the bolt shot back and the party entered—the old woman first, carrying the tray. Next minute there was a crash—a stifled cry —a heavy fall—and Dolly’s jailer lay upon the ground, a thick blanket enveloping her arms and head, Dick clinging to and hampering her feet, and the ruins of the breakfast strewn around her. Never was a difficult and delicate job performed more neatly and expeditiously. The woman struggled wildly, but in vain; not only was she disabled by the blanket’s choking folds, but Rose had flung herself bodily upon her and resolutely held her down, while Dick secured her feet by binding them firmly with strips of a sheet which Dolly tore up and handed to him. “Now for her hands!” cried he, seizing them one by one and binding them together, and wrapping the bedclothes round her body until she looked like a mummy, in its case. By this time her active resistance had ceased; she was frightened, half stifled, speechless and almost insensible. “You must give her air or she will die,” cried Dolly, pityingly; and the blanket was removed from her face. Dick stopped her mouth however, so that she could not scream; at the same time remarking, coolly, that he had lately been reading how much healthier it was to breathe through the nostrils. At Dolly’s suggestion a pillow was placed under her head. “She may have to lie here some time, you know,” said she. “Until to-morrow, likely,” replied Dick, enjoying the look of terror in the prostrate listener’s eyes. “But don’t you be afraid, my good old soul; we’ll lock you in, so that no robbers shall come nigh you.” This promise he kept, dropping the key into his own pocket. “Don’t worry missis,” he explained", in answer to Dolly’s anxious look. “I’ll send it back by a messenger from New York, who will let the old cat out again. And now let us go; there’ll be a train at ten o’clock, and we’ve got a good walk to the station before us. Some one, even Mr. Hastings himself, may come and stop us yet, for there must be a . big row at home by this time. Once on the cars we shall be safe, so let us lose no time in getting there.” His listeners obeyed instructions but too gladly. Five minutes later rescued and rescuer were out in the quiet lanes, and Dolly’s gentle heart beat high with the consciousness of present liberty, and the hope of a speedy and blest reunion with her husband.

CHAPTER XXXII. AND LAST. That husband, meanwhile, reassured for awhile by the certainty of his cousin’s presence, was rapidly sinking once more into a sea of perplexity and fear as tne early hours of the morning wore on and Hastings did not appear. May was of opinion that he would not come. “You have given him warning,” she said, bit- * terly; “and time to get away, or secrete his captives more completely. I fear you will find that your confidence has been terribly misplaced. No one but Fred Hastings had the slightest interest in your poor little wife’s disappearance; certainly, I had not. If you had been less hasty, even, I should you and the fortune! for, .her eyes lit, and then sank shyly, as they met Frank Osborne’s, while a lovely color mantled in her cheek, “for I love another man!” Frank caught her hand and raised to his lips. Selfish mortals that we are, these lovers could not quite conceal their happiness even in the face of Cyril’s misery. He watched them with gloomy, envious eyes “What is done is done,” he said. “I would not have lost my little, slighted love for a mill- ’ ion Huntsfords; and were the fortune really mine I’d gladly give it all to bring her back.” “I will do the same myself if necessary,” said May, impulsively; and even as she spoke Fred Hastings came, unannounced, into the room “I heard your words,” he said abruptly, iguormg all formal greetings. “It would not be necessary, however, and such a sacrifice would be quite in vain. Listen—l regret to wound you, Cyril, but the truth will be most merciful in the end: “As late as ten o’clock last night I met the lady whom my cousin has called his wife in company with her maid and a gentleman—tallish man with a black beard—whom I had never seen before. Naturally surprised, I accosted her. She seemed to be in considerable agitation but made no effort to avoid me.

‘“She was running away from home,’ she said, ‘never again to return to it. Miss Ellis had visited her that afternoon, and she knew how she had been deceived. Her companion was an honorable man who loved -her. She was going with him to New Orleans, where he would marry her.’,” “Marry her!” ' Cyril had listened like one turned to stone, but he sprang up at those last words. •Marry my wife?” / “Hastings turned on him like a tiger, uttering a perfect yell of consternation and rage. “Your wife?” he cried “Have you told that story here, you madman?” “I have told it here, and will tell it to all the world! She is my wife! Who will deny it?” “I will! She is no wife of yours, or, if she is, she has committed bigamy! What!'will you ruin yourself for a woman who has deserted and betrayed you? Who. at this moment, laughs at your sufferings from another lover’s arms? I tell you her own lips confessed her guilt. I can show you the hotel at which she stopped with her loyer, until they went on the cars. I followed them (vainly striving to save her) to the train myself, embark for New Orleans. She told rAe she had left you a letter. You have no proofs of so mad a marriage; your foolish letters she destroyed before my eyes, and scattered the pieces to the wind. “ ‘Tell him,’ she said, ‘that my love for him has passed away as utterly as have written lies.’ And for a woman like this will you blast your whole life, and fling away the Huntsford fortune?” The passionate torrent of his bitter words seemed to stun and bewilder Cyril. “It can’t be true! It can’t be true!” he cried, and sank down with a groan of misery. His other auditors had listened as *if stunned, but now May broke in indignantly. “No,” she cried. “It isn’t true, I’ll swear, or I know nothing of human nature. I have seen Dolly’ and I know she is pure and true, and loves her husband devotedly. But even if it were otherwise,” she went on, turning bodly upon Hastings, “ how can that help Cyril? When he married her he lost the Huntsford estate; her falsehood will not undo their marriage.” “Will it not?” cried Hastings eagerly. “If such a marriage indeed exists will not her falsehood furnish grounds for a divorce, and leave my cousin once more free to marry you? And if, as I suspect, you prefer another husband,” his glance fell meaningly on Frank, “will not your refusal to accept Cyril’s hand make him heir to the Huntsford fortune?” They looked at each other in consternation. The arch-conspirator’s plans lay bare before their eyes, and what should hinder them progressing to a successful issue? Nothing— if his old influence over Cyril still held its power. At this juncture two things happened, apparently equally unimportant. May Ellis was quietly summoned from the room, and Mr. Lisle, coming forward addressed Cyril. “Your cousin and counselor has laid his plans well, sir,” he said, bitterly; “and they point to no less results than-your own enrichment at the cost of my daughter’s utter ruin. I do not ask if you have taken part in them; I will not so insult the grief you appear to feel or the true affec-

tion you have shown for h9r; but I do ask, do you believe this man’s .unsupported slander? aqd will you, on the strength of it, seek to divor<& my child?” Cyril lifted from his hands a white and haggard face, drawn with keen pain, and tearstained. “Divorce Dolly?” he said, with a sad smile; “belieye that she could never have deserved it? No, sir; not if ten thousand cousins swore to it would I believe her false. I have been too much to blame. I have been negligent, cold, unkind to her, but I have never doubted her faith and truth, nor ceased, in my true heart, to love and honor her. I can doubt all but Eer—even you!” turning fiercely upon Fred, “since you bring this accusation against her. You have formed plans to which I have been no party, and laid plots in which I disown all share, and my wife is the victim of your ambition. I refuse to believe that you saw her last night at all!” “Oh, yes, he did!” cried May, entering suddenly. “He has told you the truth there. Here is one who saw him in her company. Come in Dick.” And Dick, accepting the invitation, entered, and stood bowing and grinning upon all. “Good-morning, Mr! Hastings,” said he to that discomfited plotter. “You got down to town before me this morning, didn’t you? You didn’t see me last night, sir, did you? But I saw you—saw you get into the coach—saw you at the hotel with the misses, and wearing a long, black beard !” At those words Cyril sprang up with a cry of rage, while Hastings turned deadly pale. “It’s a lie—a foul lie!” Fred cried, passionately. “And you,” with a threatening gesture at May, who stood smiling oddly in the halfopened doorway—“you have bribed him to tell it!” She looked at him with a superb contempt that disdained to give him other answer, and then suddenly leaning forward to Frank, whispered him with the same bright, curious smile. He started, looking at her with incredulous joy; then, hastily beckoning to Mr. Lisle, they passed out of the room together. May suffered them to pass by, then took up her station in the doorway once iqore, silent still, and smiling. “It’s no lie,” said Dick, sturdily. “The one that says his wife was never false may lie—and does lie —but I don’t! No, nor I didn’t long ago, when I said you was a villain, Mr. Hastings!” Fred sprang at him with a cry of rage, but Cyril flung himself between them. “The boy defends my wife!” he cried. “I make his quarrel mine! You villain,- you have made away with her! Where is she? What have you done with her? Speak,” and he seized him with a furious grasp, “before I murder you!” With one powerful wrench Hastings freed himself. “**l know nothing of your wife, you madman!” he said, boldly, “except that she has been your ruin. Can you not see that this is a conspiracy between May Ellis and the boy to turn you against me? I swear I know no more than you do, at this moment, where Dolly is! Dick chuckled delightedly. “That’s true, said he—“a heap truer than he thinks for, Mr. Vernon. He does not know your wife, but I do! And so do I, cried May, still at the door. Cyril looked from one to the other, anxiously, eagerly, half in hope and half in fear. “Tell me then in the name of Heaven!” he cried “I have been punished enough. She is safe, for you are smiling, May, ah! have seme pity. Oh! Dolly, my darling, where are you?” A cry answered him —a loving joyful cry, and as May moved aside, a little, tired, disheveled figuie rushed through the open doorway, and fell weeping, laughing, almost fainting, into his outstretched arms. “Cyril, my love! Oh! thank you, bless you, my dearest, in having such faith in me. lam your own true love, your own true wife. You might have found richer, wiser, fairer women, dear; but none more loving, none more true, than your poor little country girl!” * * * * * * Six months later. In the splendid parlors of May Ellis’city home a gay and brilliant company is assembled to congratulate a new-made bride. There she stands robed in dazzling white; tall and stately,’ and beautiful, and radient with happiness and love. She leans upon her handsome, bridegroom’s arm, and a marriage bell, of snowy bridal blossoms, forms their fragrant canopy. A handsome, happy well-matched pair, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Osborne, ladies atfd gentlemen, married only an hour ago, and receiving their wedding guests. “A wealthy couple,” somebody whispers in the crowd. “Rich respectively in their own rights, without counting the Huntsford fortune, which fell to Miss Ellis, the bride.” “She didn’t keep it,” says another. I know the lawyer who arranged the matter, she’ll make known her final disposition of the ineritance today, It was in her power to dispose of it for her life time as she pleased, and at. her death it goes to Mr. Huntsford’s son, the little fellow

who was born three months ago, and who I hear will be brought here to-day. “Strange place to bring a baby, too*. That’s Mrs. Huntsford, isn’t it, standing by the bride. Lovely, lovely indeed! No wonder he preferred her to a fortune. There he is, dear, dark and handsome, and looking at his beautiful wife with his whole soul in his eyes. Well, she is a fair excuse for any folly, though she was only a country girl.” There is a sudden stir and murmur in the throng; a rosy, smiling woman makes her way proudly up the room and stands before the bride. She carries a baby, wrapped in costly robes, upon which May and Dolly pounce simultaneously. “My precious son!” cries one. “My little godson!” cries the other. And both come so near smothering him with kisses that nurse, snatches him from them in dismay. Then the bridegroom the bride back to the marriage bell, and Dolly takes her handsome husbands arm. Her father stands beside him, and she smiles upon them both. Very happy is our little country girl in these latter days; nothing can come between her and husbands heart again; they agreed to put far away from the present the errors of the past, together with the remembrance of the false and treacherous friend who had passed out of the country and out of their lives forever. Mrs. Osborne smilingly introduces her very youthful godson to her guests. “It was at my request he was brought here today,” she says, “that I might make his full dignity known to you. In this dark-eyed young gentleman, who takes so very little interest in you all, you behoM the solution of a problem. I said to myself some months ago, What shall Ido with the Huntsford fortune? His birth brought an answer to the question, and relieved me from a painful difficulty. Allow me, my friends, to introduce you, one and all, to Master Cyril Frank Huntsford—not only future heir, but also the present possessor of the Huntsford fortune. ” [the end.]