Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 April 1891 — Page 6

THE MASTER OF THE MINE.

By Robert Buchanan.

CHAPTER XXX— Concluded After his first supprise was over, Johnson pointed out to her the utter improbability of any such attempt; and, after a good deal more crying. Annie saw the force of his argument and yielded. Yes, the fatal step had been taken—it was too late to think of returning now; the only thing to do now was to make the best of matfes and go right on. So Annie again put on her cloak and-bonnet, and announced herself ready to go. '‘You had better put on a veil," said the practical Johnson. ‘ We. may be seen, and that would be awkward for me. Haven > got one! Well, ppbn my w<d. yornare a little simpleton; but we must make the best of it. I suppose. Here, take my arm and hang your head a bit; we ll get on board as quick as and perhaps will escape scott free.” They passed down the stairs, entered a closed cab which stood at the door, and were rapidly driven away. ANNIE S story (concluded). ~ * At 7 o’clock that same evening the two arrived in London, Johnson tolerably contented with himself for the neatness and despatch with which he had managed the journey, little guessing that he had been detected by the keen eyes of John Rudd. Arrived at Euston, a four-wheeler was summoned, and the two got into it and were driven away. Then Johnson turned to Annie: •‘My dear," he said, ‘‘l may as well make you acquainted with our plans now. The fact is, the master won’t be able to join you for a week, and I am going to stop and takecare of you tit! he comes. I have taken some apartments for that week in an hotel; and, in order to simplify matters. I have given our names as Mr. and Miss Johnson. Therefore, for the time being, you are my sister. Miss .Annie Johnson. .Do you understand?” Annie nodded. She quite understood; though she was beginning to feel alarmed as well as puzzled at the strangeness of the whole proceedings. She was still more alarmed at the subsequent manner in which Johnson conducted himself. True, he had taken rooms in the hotel, as he had said—private rooms, which they occupied in common. She was apparently allowed to go and and come at will; yet she soon found that she was as much a prisoner as if she had been enclosed by iron bars. Whatever she did, Johnson knew of; and Qnce or twice when she attempted to write to friends, he quietly but firmly refused to allow any such thing. •■Look here," he said, “don’t you think this here game is to my taste at all,'cause you’d be wrong. I've done a goodish many things in my time, but running away wi’ girls, and keepin' enucaged up like birds, ain’t one of 'em; however. I gave my word to young Redruth as I'd keep ye square till he came, and I’m going to keep my word: but precious glad I shall be when these six davs are oter.” In due time the six days came to an end. and Annie received from Johnson tire glad intelligence that on the afternoon of the sixth day her lover would be with her. Trembling with excitement and joy, she obeyed her woman’s instinct, and hastened to make herself look her very best. She arrayed herself in the pretty grey dress which she had brought with her from her home, and Sut some flowers at her throat; so a few hours later, young ! Redruth arrived, he clasped her to him again and again, and, looking intoher tear-dimmed eyes, said he had never seen her looking so pretty in all her life. "And you will never go away from me again? ' said Annie, and she clung. sobbing, to him; ••you will always stay with me?” ? ‘ Always, my darling.’’ "And we—shall—-be married——” "This very night. Though I have been away, I have not been unmindful of my duty to you, my ppt. I have arranged for our marriage; I have taken a house where we will live. We will go straight from here after dinner, and get the ceremony over. It will be a quiet marriage, and. to you, a strange one. I fear It will not be solemnized in a church, with all the brightness and beauty that should have surrounded my darling We shall go before a registrer and be married quietly—this “is another sacrifice which my love demands."

But this was no sacrifice to Annie; so long as she was married, and knew her love to be no sin. that was all she asked; so she cried a little on his shoulder; but it was for joy, not sorrow. Everything seemed' changed now the young master had come. A charming little dinner was ordered and served in the handsome sittingroom. which during the past week had been occupied by Johnson and An nie, The little party of three sat down to it—Redruth making the most con rival of hosts; after the dinner was over. Johnson took his leave, and the lovers were alone. There was no time just then for billing and cooing; if anything was to be done it must be done quickly, for the day was wellnigh spent. George told Annie to get on her bonnet and cloak; she did sc, and the two got into a hansom and were driven away. How strange it all seemed to her — to be speeding thus through the streets of London with her future nusbund by her side. She was on her way to be married, dressed in an old bonnet and cloak which she had often Morn at St Gtorlott’s, with no wed-

ding favours, no jovial faces about her. Looking bach upon this episode in later years, she saw. in it the dreadful foreshadowing of all that was to ml low—the misery, the degradation, the shame. But at the time she saw nothing of this: the snrdidness was illuminated to her by the fact that she had beside her the one man, 1 whom, above all others, she loved —and who loved her. The memory of that episode had faded somewhat away. She remembered only faintly that the hansom set them down at the door of a dingy office in some back slum of London, that before the two men the marriage ceremony was gone through, and that when she re-entered the cab she wore a wedding-ring on the third finger of her left hand, and firmly believed herself to be Mrs. Geo. Redruth. -.-- ■

The house which he had taken for her, and to which he conducted her immediately after the ceremomy, was situated in a London suburb. It was an elegant little mansion. furnished and fitted in a style which completely dazzled poor Annie. But in those early days of their union, he certainly loved her as much as it was in his power to love, and Annie was happy. Besides, he was always with her. During the day they drove together, and in the evening they went to the theater or opera —Annie clad in silks and satins like some great lady of the land. But things could not be expected to go on so forever, and after awhile Redruth began to leave her, for short periods at first and afterward for longer, and his manner, at first so ardent and overflowing, gradually cooled. At first Annie was heartbroken; and during his absences cried bitterly in the secrecy of her own room. Then she brought reason to her aid, and acknowledged to herself that it was the lot of every happy bride to pass through the experience which was coming to her. After a man had become a husband it was impossible for him to remain a lover —at least, she had been told that was the common belief, so she must try to be content. But at times, try as she would, she Could not help grieving. Thus it was that George Redruth found her very sad one evening, when he returned to her after an absence of several days. He came in jovial enough, for he had been dining at the club with some friends. He took her in his arms and kissed her; then he looked into her eyes. “Why, Annie, what’s this?” he said. "You’ve been crying. ” - -| “Just a little, because I felt so lonely. It is so dreary here when you are away, and you are away so much now. ’’ “If I am it is no fault of mine, my pet. Important business, which you would not understand, occupies nearly all my time; affairs are getting so complicated that unless I do something, and quickly, I shall be a beggar. But come; it's only, for a little while; when things are put straight, as I hope they will be soon, we will go abroad and be constantly together. Now, dry your eyes, darling, and see what I have brought you.” He produced a little packet, opened it, and showed her a gold bracelet. “Isn’t it pretty?” he asked. "Yes, it is pretty, but —’’ “Well, my pet?”* ‘ ‘There is something I would rather have than all the bracelets in the world.” .... - '• . “What is that, Annie?” “The sight of my home, and of my dear father and mother. Oh, George, why cannot I write to them and tell them that I am your wife?” “You are foolish, and don’t know what you are saying. A little while ago, when you first came here, you said if you could let thpm know that j you were well and happy it would content you. I allowed you to write, yet you are unhappy and complaining to me again. I have told you repeatedly that I have most important reasons for wishing to keep our union secret.” “Yes. I know, but it seems so unkind, so strange. ” “Annie, can you not be patient for a little while? If you loved me as you say, you would obey and trust me.” “I do trust you,” she returned, “withall my heart and soul! For your love I have forsaken everything —home, kindred, frinds —but when ‘ we came away together you prom- j ised that in a little time I should return with you to those who are dear to me. I have waited very patiently; but to live on here alone in London, .to feel that i they think ill of me and are mourning ! for me far away—oh! I cannot bear i it; it breaks my heart!” ; "They know that you are alive and well. Surely that is enough.” “Ah. if you knew how dear I am to them! Since I was a child, until the day I came away with you, I had never left my home. It seems Sp ■ dreary in London after my happy home! Often when you are gone I sit at the window there and look out on the great city; and when I hear the murmur of the folk it seems like the sound o’ the sea.” “My darling, this is mere sentiment, whi/h you will forget. Surely London; with all its life and gaity, is merrier than that dreary place where I first found you like a flower in ? desert unworthy of such beautya Come, kiss me, and try to confide in me a little while yet. I wish to make you happy. I love you truly, and dearly; but I have much upon my mind of which I cannot as yet speak freely. Try to be contented here a little longer; then, perhaps, the mystery will end. You will try, won’t you?” “Yes, George; I will try.” So the discussion ended, and for a time things went on as they had done

before. His absences became more and more frequent and more prolonged; but Annie, since that last talk with him, had learned to look with different eyes upon her lot, add bore all without a murmur. She could not blame him, she loved him too well for that; and after all, she thought, she could not rationally blame him for anything. He had done all that he could do. He had made her his wife, he had given her a home fit for the greatest lady, he had even allowed her to write to her friends, saying that she was happy. He could do no more. But this blissful state of things was not destined to last. Redruth came to her one day and told her that the house in which she had lived had become too expensive for his means; that he had taken rooms for her, and that she must remove to them with 'all possible speed. Annie was quite content to do as he wished. She had never had much taste for splendid surroundings, and the house, without her husband, was dreary enough. Accordingly she was removed to the apartments in which I afterwards found her living in the Strand.

"Very little happened to ine worth teiling, said Annie, continuing her narrative, "until that day when I met you, Hugh. Ah! I shall never forget that day. After you had met me, being dragged away by those men who accused you of murder, I remained in that room stunned and stupified, utterly incapable of realizing what had happened. Then it all came back to me. I seemed to see again your reproachful look—to hear again the dreadful words you uttered when you left me, “When the time comes,” you said, “may you be as Well able to answer for your deeds as I shall answer for mine. The trouble began with you. If murder has been done, it is your doing also—remember that!” : “Those were the words, Hugh. Night and day they have never left me, and I think they never will until I die. Oh! if I only had died then. But it is just that I should live on—--itr-is part-of-my-punishment to live on: and see those that I love best in all the world droop and: suffer ulay-by day for the wrongs that I have done. “Well. Hugh, I was stunned, as I tell you; then suddenly I recovered myself, and rushed, screaming, to the door, with some wild idea of saving you. and bringing you back, when I was met at the door by my husband. Whether or not he knew anything of what had taken place. I don’t know. I was too much agitated myself to think of him. But in a wild fit of excitement and terror I clung to him and told him all. When I had finished my tale, he looked at me with such a calm, cold gaze, it nearly drove me mad. “It’s a very bad job,” he said; “but really I don’t see what I can do?” “Then I will tell you,” I answered. “You can take me back to St. Gurlott's. and help me to prove my cousin innocent- —as he is, God knows!” “Take you back to St. Gurlott’s,” he said. “In what capacity; as Annie Pendragon, or as my wife?” “As your wife,” I replied. “Oh, Hugh, I shall nevei’ forget the look that came into his eyes. He smiled as he replied: “I can not do that, because you are not my wife!” "Not your wife!” I repeated, scarcely believing that I heard aright; but having once begun, it seemed easy for him to continue. “No,” he replied, “you are not my wife. If you hadn’t been a little fool you would have known It loiig ago.” “But we were married,” I persisted.

"We went through a marriage ceremony , "he replied, ‘ ‘because I wanted to guard against long faces and reproachful looks. After the ceremony you were perfectly con ten ted, but I knew that we were no more man and wife than we had been before. The ceremony was a mock one, the registrar was an impostor, whose services I had bought! if he hadn’t been he would never have performed the ceremony in the evening; if you hadn’t been a fool you would have known that a marriage is no marriage if performed after twelve o'clock in the day.” ‘ ‘Again I looked at him in petrified amazement; then, realizing what all this meant to me, I fell sobbing at his feet. ” “ George,' I cried, ‘tell me you are not in earnest —say it is not true!' but all his love for me seemed to have died away; without a look he turned from me. “It is true.’’ he said. “ ‘Ah! don’t say so,’ I cried, clinging helplessly to him. ‘Say that I am your wife; it is the only comfort I have had left to me during all these weary months since I left my horqe! Do not take that from me! In Heaven's name have pity! Ah. you would have me think ill of you; but I will not. You would never be so base as to deceive me so! You, whom I loved and trusted so much, would never wreck my life and breaks my heart. I’ll not believe but you are my husband still!' “I covered my face with my hands, and cried bitterly. After a while he came to me and raised me from the ground. , “ ‘Annie,’ he said, ‘my poor little girl, be comforted. I have told you the truth—you are not my wife! You can never be that; the difference in our stations is so great that a marriage with you would be my ruin. I have deceived you cyuelly; but my heart is still yours, and till death comes I shall love and protect you. We will leave this place; we will leaver . England together. Then, far away, in some freer, brighter land, where these distinctions do no

exist, we shall dwell in happiness and peace. ” But I shrank from him. “Do not touch me!” I cried; “do not speak to me like that!" “What is it you regret?” he asked. “A mere forni! Love is still love, dispito the world!” “Love is not love,” I replied, “till sanctified and proved. Yoii have Erofaned it! You have broken my eart and destroyed my peace for ever.” • ’You talk wildly. Annie," he returned. “I tell you I will atone. All I have is yours; and I will devote it to your happiness. Can you not forgive me?” “Forgive you?” I replied. “Yes, God help me, I forgive you. Good bye.” “Why, where are you going?” “Back to iny home. ” “Before I could say more, the expression of his face changed.” “I see,” he said; “you wish to ruin me;' To publish all over the village the story of what I have done. You will not stand alone disgraced—you would disgrace me, too. But I am not such a fool as to let you. You are with me now: you will remain with me until I choose to let you go.” ....... "At the time, I did not know of anything that had happened at St. Gurlott’s since I had left it. I know now he dreaded to be exposed before Madeline Graham. He kept me a prisoner in these rooms for several days; but at last I managed to make my -escape. —■■ You know what, happened after that. Hugh. I made my way to Falmouth; and there you found me, when I was almost starving. If you had not discovered me. I should have died. ” [To be continued.]

A Matter of Figures.

Chicago Tribune. “No, sir," said the barkeeper, “you don’t get anymore here this time. You've had enough whiskey for one evening. ” ‘ ‘AU right, sir. ” replied the customer, somewhat thickly. ‘ ’My trade doesn’t amount to much, I s’pose, it’s about a couple 'o dolhirs a week, mebbe. but I’ve got friends: Bet yer Hfe none -o’ theni'll ever come here again. Say!” he continued, pointing his finger impressively at the man behind the bar. "do you know what this thing’s going to cost you? I’ll knock you out of just $6 a week. That’s over S3OO a year, and that’s the interest on $6,000. It costs you $6,000 b'gosh!" “That's all right, my friend,” responded the barkeeper, “if you and your friends drop out it will bring me about $2 a week in better trade. Say!”—and he pointed his finger straight at the man in front of the bar —"do you know, what sl2 a week is? It's over S6OO a year. That’s the interest on $12,000, and I’d give SIO,OOO to have you stay away from here, b’gosh! You light out!” Use of cat's wlpskers.—The long hairs on the side of a cat’s face are organs of touch. They are attached ,to a bed "of fine glands under the skin, and each of these long hairs is connected with the nerves of the lip, says the South Boston News, The slightest contact of these whiskers with any surrounding object is thus felt most distinctly by the animal, although the hairs themselves are insensible. They stand out on each side of the lion as well as on the common cat. From point to point they are equal to the width of the’animals body. If we imagine, therefore, a lion stealing through a covret of wood in an imperfect light we shall at once see the use of those long hairs. They indicate to him through the nicest feeling any obstacle which may present itself to the passage of his body; they prevent the rustling of boughs and leaves which would give warning to his prey if he were WWtempt to pass too close to a bush, and thus in conjunction with the soft cushions of his feet and the fur upon which he treads—the claws never coming in contact with the ground —they enable him to move towards his victim with a stillness eoual to that of of a snake.

Twenty-five Shoeless Passengers.

St. Paul Globe. An amusing contretemps, though an awkward one for the persons principally interested, occurred on the Milwaukee train to Chicago one day last week. It was the regular train leaving St. Paul at 8 p. m., and arriving in Chicago on the following morning. One sleeping car leaves St Paul with the train and goes clear through to Chicago. Another is added at La Crosse and dropped off at Milwaukee. It had become a habit with the porters of the two cars to take the shoes that were to be cleaned from the forward car to the rear one, where they would converse while on the necessary polish. On the particular night referred to both the porters had been regaled rather freely with drinks from traveling flasks. They fell asleep over the shoes, and when the car was dropped off at Milwaukee two porters and all the shoes belonging to the people in the forward car were dropped off, too. The, spectacle presented at the Milwaukee depot in> Chicago when the train arrived was, to say the least an unusual one. Twenty-flvs shoeless passengers k ieked vigorously for their brogans, and a big crowd, had fun with them. The railway, management was equal to the occas- 1 ion. A shoe clerk was promptly on < the spot; every man, woman and child was rapidly measured, and in less time than it would seetn possible all those passengers were newly shod at the expense of the Milwaukee© Railway Company.

OUR PLEASURE CLUB.

From Indianapolis Hoosier.

I.

CURRENCY.

Detroit Free Press. couldn’t be expected. In the last five years twenty-seven American girls have married Chinamen. and it is reported that in only five cases have they lived with their husbands beyond a few months. NO WONDER. No wonder the Cheyenne Indians are full of horse play. Among them are Red Horse, Black Horse, Gray Horse, High Horse, Little Horse, Kicking Horse, Horse-That-Runs and Sleepy Horse. HE LOVED HER. A Mrs. Wainwright fell overboard In Jupiter Inlet, Fla., and was eaten by a shark. For three years her husband has dohe nothing but hunt lupiter Inlet sharks, and up to date has landed about 300 of them and is still fishing. HE FELT COMPELLED. Antonio Guerrero, a Mexican gentleman who did not believe it compatible with his dignity to labor, was convicted the other day of eight murders and fourteen assaults. The judge in the case said he was sorry, but he really felt compelled to sentence Antonio to death. SHE FAINTS AWAY. A Chicago thief has for his pal a good looking young woman whe enters a jewelry store, faints away while looking at something, and during the excitement that follows the thief manages to pocket something. If you own a jewelry store look out for the pair. JUST PLAIN SNAKES. A Pennsylvania man says he knows of a spot where at least 5,000 serpents are bunched together for the winter. There are no fancy snakes among them, but just common, every-day snakes, such as blue racers and rattlesnakes, and he asks no particular credit for his discovery. DOWN ON SPAIN. Philip Walsh, a Philadelphian, who went to Spain to study the manners and customs of the people, sums up the result as follows: ‘ 1 don’t know what Spain was when Washington Irving was there, But I know what it is now, and if I owned Spain and Hades. I would sell Spain. ’’ Q ' BEWARE OF THE CAT. Says a Philadelphia surgeon: “Unless a dog be suffering from hy drophobia his bite is easily cured, but the bite of a cat at any time is a serious matter tod will cause death sooner than a wound inflicted by any other animal. A cat’s claws also inflict wounds which may result very seriously.” , HE WAS MISTAKEN. “If I am ever killed, ’’ said a Northern Michigander, as he shouldered his gun the other day, “it will probaably be b/ a falling tree. Nor gun has ever been made to kill me. ’’ In climbing a fence ten rods further on

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he shot himself through the heart, The country gun will do if ff given time. ■!' ■ : A 7 ~ " ” : TRY IT ONCE. Put up fifty wooden boxes in a city, none of them in the least resembling mail boxes, and paint AHE each one the sign : “This box is for coal orders—drop no mail in here," and inside of forty-eight hours over 100 letters designed for the mails will be pushed into them. It’s a way people have. ' SOME OFFSETS. No less than three ‘ ‘captains" are preparing to cross the Atlantic in small boats next summer, and each one is getting lots of free drinks on the strength of his assertions. The more idiots who take this road the fewer there will be left to go over Niagara Falls or apply to the lunatic asylums. want ’em bad. A Pennsylvania man advertised that he Was poor, knee-sprung, homely and cross, but wanted a wife, and in response received fifty-four lettersfromwomcnwhosatdthey’tf take him. No man. no matter what sort of a house has fallen upon him, need be discouraged in facing the matrimonial world. THEY STICK. One American manufacturer ships 1,000 lumber Wagons to South Amer - ica every year, and yet the natives come into cities like Buenos Ayres with carts of the same style and make as were used 1,000 years ago. It takes one yoke of oxen to draw even an empty cart, but the people don’t care to experiment.

TALMAGE’S BUSY WIFE.

A Glimpse of the Great Preacher’! Business Manager. Mrs. Talmage is distinctly her husband’s right hand, and all the details of his busy life are looked after by her, says Edward W. Bok in sThe Ladies’ Home Journal. She is a business woman. having a rare executive ability, capable of easily handling a number of things at the same time. Much of Dr. Talmage’s daily work is planned and laid out by her. She makes his pastoral and social engagements. and all his lecturing interests are in her hands. She knows his capacities even better than he. Whenever a journey is to be made,it is she who lays out the route, procures the tickets and staterooms, and attends to all the details. No public “man. p raaps, is saved so many annoyances as is Dr. Talmage by his wife’s foresight and ability. The rear apartment of the second floor is Mrs. Talmage’s working room. It is tastfully furnished, but more with an eye to utility than ornamention. In this room Mrs. Talmage spends most of her time. Ic is “her private den.” All the mail that is left at the house for Dr. Talmage is taken into this room and is opened by her. It is not an unusual thing for the postman to deliver between one and two hundred letters a day, all of which pass through Mrs. Talmage's hands. Business letters are answered by her. and all letters that may be of an unpleasant or annoying personal nature are destroyed. Dr. Talmage never sees them. A day in Mrs. Talmage’s home would be a revelation to those who believe that the life of a public man’s wife is a succession of pleasures, dotted here with a pretty compliment and there with some token of honor. While many poople are yawning and preparing to break their night’s rest, Mrs. Talmage is already up, opening the first mail. Breakfast is promptly at eight o'clock. Then the family separate and the wife begins to re-ceivecallers—-which alone is a task. It is a well-known saying among the neighbors that “the Talmage bell is never still.” All kinds of people must be seen, innumerable appointments made and kept, the pastoral work of the largest church in America must be looked after, the details of a score or morernissionary, church, literary societies with which Mrs. Talmage or her husband is connected, have their demands, and, in addition to all these, are the household cares of a large house and a family of growing children. All the appointments of the Talmage home in Brooklyn reflect the woman who presides over it. Gaudiness in furniture or decorations is absent, and, instead, one sees a harmony of good taste on every hand. Mrs. Tdlmage is an excellent housekeeper and her home shows it.

Business in the South is booming, especially in the iron, coal, lumber and manufacturing localities. The cotton-mills are all quite busy and are making money. The coal" companies expect to ship large quantities of coal to South and Central America. This year’s shipments of soft coal from Philadelphia will be 2,500,: 000 tons. Coal and lumber are very scarce there, though Cuba. Honduras and Mexico have plenty of Mahogany. A great deal of plush manufactur ing machinery is being brought from England to New York. It will be put up at Uttica. Another'plush factory will be built at Bridgeport. Nottingham lace goods are also tc be made at Williamantic. Conn., and the mills will be run night and day. Textile manufacturers mast be mak ing money, for so many of them are adding buildings, machinery and motive power.y David R. has attained his seventy-second year T a few days ago voted for the hundredth time ir the town of Ballston, N. Y., “having never missed voting, spring and autumn, in his native town since attain ing his majority.