Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 May 1891 — Page 2

THE MASTER OF THE MINE.

By Robert Buchanan,

CHAPTER XXXVH. j THB BEGINNING OF THS KVD. * It was the supreme moment of my file, and. standing there before my darling, dazed and joyfully bewildered, with her beautiful fare turned, radiant with love, no mine, well might I have echoed the I ecstatic cry of the lover of lovers—‘lf tt were now to die, "IVere now to be most happy; for, I fear, My soul hath her content so absolute, That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate! But the words which were bliss to jne were gall and wormwood to the soul of George Redruth. Livid with pain, he looked at her who uttered them; then, glancing round at the wild groups surrounding us, he said: 'You must be mad, to speak like that. Trelawaey, a word with you. There shall be an end to this once and forever: come apart, and let us •peak together!" He walked a short distance along the cliffs, I following with Madeline by ;my side. When we were out of •arshot of any soul there, he turned and faced us. His self-control was aow remarkable; a stranger, looking at him, and observing his manner, would never have gathered that he was a pray to the acutest suffering of mortified pride and passion, '‘l might have guessed this from the first," he said, in a low voice. TTou, Trelawney, always hated me — and, God knows; I returned the compliment ! I can see now why you saved my life. To crush and humiliate me before my cousin, over whose Eind you have obtained some malign fluence."

I looked at him, but made no reply. He continued, with apparent calm ness, addressing Madeline: “I tun to understand, then, that our engagement is at an end?" - “Yes,"she answered. —"“Very well. You know as well as I what that means so me—ruin, perhaps disgrace; but I am not going to whine over the inevitable. Trelaw■aey, I congratulate you," he added, with a curious smile, “You have won the game." He turned as if to go, but Madeline, with an impressive cry, interposed. “George, do not talk like that!" she cried “There is a chance yet of retrieving the past; and if you will do so, I snail still be your friend. It was not h fated that I should be your wife; only one woman living has that title, and to your atonement. Let me go to her 1 Let ire tell her that you will make amends." ; .-h “I fail to understand you," he answered, coldly. “Of whom are you •peaking?” “Of Annie Pendragon, the poor Eirl whose heart you have nearly roken ! Yo see I know everything. George—for my sake " His face darkened, while his lips twitched convulsively. “How kind you are, how solicitous lor my moral welfare! It is very good of you, I acknowledge, to offer to provide me with a helpmate, but I must politely decline your kind ofdoes. Annie Pendragon is nothing to me. lam a gentleman, I believe: she is ” “Takecare!” I cried. “Utterone ; word against her at your peril! I do not ask you now to acknowledge her —it is too late for that; and even l( it could be, I think she is better as •he is, than she could ever become, more closely united to a man like you. But she is sacred, and I forbid .you even to utter her name.” “You mistake my meaning," he ;returned, still retaining his self, possession. “All I was going to say was that we are not equals. I deeply : regret what has occurred—l acknowledge my own folly—my own .guilt, if you like it better; but from this time forth we are nothing to, each other." “George, George!’’ cried my darling in despair. “Have you no <heart?" “I suppose so: but blame yourself, If it is somewhat leaden on the present occasion. I am not used to humiliation, you see; and though I take my punishment as calmly as possible, I still feel it.” I could nave strangled him, he was so utterly cold-blooded. “If there is justice,” I cried, “God will punish you! You have not only wrecked one life, but vou have destroyed two others. Do you know that my uncle —God help him! —confessed with his last breath that he J»ad killed your accomplice, the man Johnson? That man’s death, as well ras John Pendragon’s, lies at your .• door.'" He started in surprise, but conquered himself in a moment. *<‘l had my suspicions,” he said, rbut 'I was silent for his daughter's isake. I fail to see, howev. that I mm responsible for the mad act of a murderer.” “You are the murderer, not he!” I "cried. “Nonsense’” he answered; and, - still mastering himself, he walked • away. I turned and looked at Madeline. She was gazing after him,' with a face pale as death. “Madeline,” I said, “do not think I am fallen so low as to presume upon the hasty words you spoke just now. I know that, when this sorrowful day is over, you will forget theq— you must forget them, in duty to yourself. It will be happiness . enough for me to know that, when I most needed it, I had your sympa thy; that if I bad been other than I am. I might have had your love. And •ow, shall we say good bye?”

I held out mr hand to her; she gazed at me as if wonder. “Then you do »ot understand?" she said gently. ‘ ‘Or perhaps—you did understand, and I was mistaken in thinking that you cared for me—so much.” ~ -- ■ - ...

‘ ‘Care for you?" 1 repeated passionately. “Ever since I can remember, my heart, my whole life, has been yours. Do not think that lam so lost, so selfish, as to think that the distance between us can be bridged over by your heavenly, pity. I am a poor man; you are a rich lady. I know what that I have known it from the beginning.” As I spoke my heart was so stirred that I had to turn my face aside to hide the gathering tears. But she crept close to me, and I felt the soft touch of her hand on my arm. “I do not blame you for thinking that," she said. ‘‘A little while ago I thought so too; but Hugh, dear —may I call you so? —God has opened my eyes. I think I always loved you; but never so much as to-day. ” “Don’t speak of it! It can't be! Oh, Madeline, let us say farewelH" “Hugh, dear Hugh, listen! You must listen! Ah, do not be unkind!” ™ “Unkind—to you!" I murmured. “God knows I would die for you!” “Had you died down in the mine, I should still have been faithful to you; I should never have loved another man. May I tell you the whole truth? I will, and you will understand. When I saw you going to your death—going, in your great goodness and noble courage, to save your enemy’s life at the peril of your own —I knew for the first time that alt my heart was yours. I did not deter you, but I prayed to God for you, and as I prayed, I swore before my God that, if He restored you to me, I would lay my heart bare to you, and ask you to make me your wife. God was good; you came back, as from the grave. And now, will you turn away from me? Will you refuse me the one thing remaining that can make life sweet and sacrea to me —your forgiveness and your love?”

It was too much. The spell erf the old passion came upon me, as, sobbing and trembling, I took my darling to my heart. Thus it came to pass that I, Hugh Trelawney, a man of the people, became the accepted lover of Madeline Graham. Looking back at it all now, after a lapse of so many years, it still seems an incredible thing, unreal and visionary; but raising my eyes from the paper whereon these lines are written, I see beside me the sweetest assurance that it is true. When I began the story of my life, I said that it was also the story of my love. It has lasted so long; it will last, God willing, till death, and after death.

“Is it not so, my darling?” She smiles, and bends over line to kiss her answer. She watches the pen as it moves over the paper, and she waits for the last word, knowing my tale is almost done.

Love is by nature selfish; and in the first flush of my new joy I almost forgot the sorrow in our poor home. But when I quitted my darling, and joined the little procession which followed my poor uncle across the heath, I reproached myself fear having felt so nappy. The miners had procured a rude stretcher, often used when accidents took place in the mine, and the dead body was laid upon it, with a cloak thrown lightly over it to hide the piteous, disfigured face set in its sad ,sprey hair; but one hand hung uncovered, and this hand Annie held, as we walked slowly homeward, four of the men carrying the load. I followed, helping my aunt, who was simply heart-broken. h- They bore him into the cottage, and women came to do the last, sad offices. While they were thus occupied, I spoke to Annie, trying to console her. White as marble, and now quite tearless, she seemed like one whose reason had bereft her, under the weight of some violent physical blow. But when we went' upstairs together, and saw my uncle lying as if asleep, his white hair decently arranged, his face composed, his thin hands folded on his breast, his whole expression one of mysterious peace, she knelt beside him and kissed his cold brow, and her tears again flowed freely. My aunt stood beside her, weeping and looking on. “God has taken him,” I said solemnly. “He is happy now." [To be Continued.]

Piracy not Extinct.

Both in China and in Indo-China the ancient practice of piracy gives signs of life, side by side with the extension of European commerce. The French have routed and broken up within four months several bands of pirates on the rivers of Indo-China,' and a daring assault was made on December 10 last, only a few miles from Hong-Kong, on the English steamer Namoa, which was boarded and captured by about fifty pirates, who killed the captain and one passenger and robbed the vessel’s safe of #20.000. They then abandoned the steamer, which returned to HongKong, and a war vessel went in search of the plunderers.

A Testimonial.

iDdltnapolis jonimaL "v Deacon Pod berry—You have been a faithful pastor, to us for seven years now. —T7*~z: The Rev. Mr. Wilgus—l have tried, in my humble way to Go my best Deacon Podberry —Yes, and we were thinking of giving you some sort of testimonial. Which would you prefer —a trip to Palestine, or a trial for harea/T

THE MASTER OF THE MINE.

By Robert Buchanan,

CHAPTER XiXXVli—Concluded. “Ay, happy wf God." sobbed m 3 aunt. “Forty year we ha' dwelt together i’ this house, and he nevei give me angry look or crass word e be gawn, where I’ll soon gang: too. Wait for me, my bonnieraan wait for me —wait for her that love; ’ee, and is coming to ee soon!" Why should I linger ovei this scene of sorrow, wht should I turn to other scenes whiel followed it? Time and Death hav< healed all those wounds; to speak 0: them is to open them again. CHAPTER XXXVIII. CONCLUSION.

A year after the flooding of tht mine and the death of John Pendra gon, I married Madeline Graham The ceremony took place quietly ic London, whither we had gone to gether, and when it was over we spent a brief honeymoon abroad. One spring morning, as I sat with ray bride in a hotel by the lake o! Geneva, I read in the Times an announcement that filled my heart with surprise and pain. It was an advertisement of the approaching sale by auction es Redruth House, St. Gurlott's, Cornwall.

A short time before this the mining company had passed into liquidation, and! knew that George Redruth was a ruined man. Little or no communication had passed between the cousins, but when the crash came, Madeline, with my full consent and sympathy, had written to her aunt, offering a considerable portion of hex fortune for George Redruth’s use and benefit. This offer had been refused. The next thing we had heard was that mother and son were living together InLondon, and closely following on that had come the news of the mothers death, an event which filled my darling with no little distress. To the last Mrs. Redx uth had ref used to forgive her niece, whom she urn justly held responsible for all the misfortunes which had fallen upon her aon

I showed my darling the newspai per, and we forthwith determined tq journey down to Cornwall. Thus it happened that, about a week later, we arrived in St. Gurlott’s, wher« we found Annie and my aunt readv to receive us at the old cottage. 1 then ascertained that George Red. ruth had ieft England for America, where he intended to remain. An, nie, who was my informant, told ma that before leaving the village he had sought her out to say farewell. “And oh, Hugh," she cried, “h< asked for my forgiveness, and I forgave him with all my heart. I think, if I had wished it, he would hav« taken me with him as his wife.” “You did not wish it?”

She shook her head sadly. “No, Hugh. After what has happened it was impossible, and I know it was more in despair and pity than in love that he spoke. I scarcely knew him; no one would know him—he was like the ghost of his old self so worn, so broken with the trouble and shame which have come upon him, that my heart bled for him.’ ‘He is punished,’ I said sadly. ‘An nie, you aid wclL lam glad that he is penitent, but never in the worlq eould you two have come together.’ The reader already knows that, through myr darlings goodness, j was a rich man. Now, of all men living, perchance, I best knew th« capabilities of St. Gurlott s mine. Reckless neglect _ and ignorance had wrecked it, and rfc was still to somq extent at the mercy of the sea; but I had my own. theory that more than ,one fortune was yet to be discovered there. I spoke to Madeline about it; we went into the matter eon arnore; and the result was an offer was made by me for the old. claim to the official liquidator of the company- Things looked despairing, and as my offer was a liberal erne, it was accepted. Within another year a fresh company was formed with Hugh Trelawney, Esq., as projector, vendor and chief owner;, large sums were expended in the improvements, which, if carried out, would long be fore have saved the concern, tie sea was gently persuaded to yield up possession; and before long the old mine was flourishing prosperously, a source of prosperity to all concerned in it, and of blessing: to the whole population. Another fact remains to be chronicled. We bought Redruth House, an<J it became Our home. There my aunt and Annie joined us, dwelling happily with us, till in due season my aunt died. Annie lived on, and still lives, apensivevgraeicos woman, full of one overshadowing memory, and devoted to our children. The last time she heard of George Redruth, he was a well-to-do merchant, living in the far-away West. Thus, through the ‘goodness o! God, I remained in the bid home, able to help those who in time oi ne«i had helped me. St. Gurlott’s is now a happy, thriving place; mj dear wife is idolized by the simph people; and I, in the fulness of mj fortunate days, am the Master of tht Mine. the bnd.

Coming In a Little Too Fine.

Puck. Mad son Squeers —It has got s< now that you can’t ask a policeman j question without you have a permit Upson Downes —What kind of i permit? Madison Squeers —A permit t< live! -

A Strong Digestion.

Shingiss—Speaking about big eat ing. I don’t think you can find a bij gereating record than Mary’s. Dlnwiddie —What did she eat? Shingiss— Wk?- Marietta Railroad

"Get up thas This is the softest snap I've struck in a year l"

LABOR NOTES,

Work has been suspended at the Elmwood and Schuylkill coileries, throwing 800 men out of employment. The national organization of the clothing making industry I© to be known as the “United Garment Workers of America.” On May 1 there were eight-hour demonstrations in Union Square, New York; Fort Greene, Brooklyn, and Union Hill, Jersey City. As weavers are now exempt by law in Massachusetts from, fhaes for imperfect cloth, hereafter discharge will be substituted for the fine. Chicago vessel owners mean to fight organized labor’ and vessel ownbrs at Cleveland, Buffalo and Detroit mean to reduce wages- the coming season. The striking spinners of the Clark Thread Works have now been four months on strike, and have not Eined a single point. Om Saturday l it the strike was declared' off.. A general strike will be inaaigu-, rated at the Pennsylvania Steel Works on June 1, when the Scale of the Amalgamated Association of Iron and Steel Workers will be demanded by the men.

The United States District. Attorney is expected to prosecute Wm. Snead & Co., of Louisville*. Ky., for violation of the Contract-Labor law in importing four men from Glasgow, Scotland. A brick manufacturer- at Tfcenton, N. J., has announced hi© willingness to compromise with the men. This break on the part of the manufacturers, it is thought, will lead to a settlement of the strike. The puddlers of the- Phoenix Iron Works at Phoenixville*. Pa., refused to work without more help. The company declined to put more men to work, the' fires ware drawn and the mills closed. The ooal operators: ©f the Kanawha Valley, W. Va., mean to ignore the laws to weigh and measure coal before it is screened, and to pay operators only in lawful money. They claim that the laws are unconstitutional. The United Mine Workers demand the enforcement of these laws. Thirty silk mfii weavers would not work overtime on Saturday last at Sterling, N. Y.,and were discharged. On Monday eviction notices were served on them. On Thursday, the Superintendent, fearing an attack on the mill, telegraphed to Sheriff Landsay for aid. When he came be asked the weavers to disperse and they did so.

The Flying Courier.

ICaclay’a “Tale ot Old Japan. At dawn a swift-footed courier stands beside the western gateway of Yeddo Castle patiently waiting for the delivery of the dispatches he is to forward to the next station. Suddenly a breathless messenger rushes up with a dispatch-box for the Commandant of the Kioto Shiro. Swiftly the lithe, bronze-colored runner gives his receipt and makes his simple preparations for starting. Then away goes the box like a hunted deer from station to station, util it reaches the distant mount-

From the Indianapolis Beetle*.

THE TRAMP’S STRATAGEM.

READYWIT RAGS—“Them apples look mighty good."

“I’ve got an idea to get the whole lot of 'em."

“Hey, mister, you've dropped one of ver baskets l"

"How's my chance, while the old jay ain’t lookin’."

ains. As it is borne deeper intot.hos* mighty ranges its progress becomes much slower, for it finds the streams swollen by the melting snows. Bul onward speeds the box. At one oi two other points on its way througl the mountains it is delayed in its course for a few hours, so that the dispatch is fully three days behind time when its bearer finally leaps forth from the gorges of Sninano and speeds toward the hill country. Toward evening a fresh courier seizes toe box, and plunges into a ravine among the hills. With bated breath and bowed head he rushes along asif he were some express train behind time. His glistening body, gleams through the trees as he speeds by eop6e and thicket. Now he has reached the base of the range, and is slowly climbing the steep road that climbs up. through the woods. He has reached the summit, and is starting off on another burst of speed, when suddenly he utters a wild screech of pain and terror, and tumbles down in a heap in the middle of the road—ham-strung in both legs. * The next.instant bis head rolls into' the dust, and the body, that but a moment before had been bounding! along with the grace and the buoy-1 ancy of a gazelle, now lies twitching and floundering convulsively on the groundl.

The bloody deed was perpetrated by a band of romins, who had sprung from a neighboring thicket with the swiftness and the fury of the maneating tiger. - As they wash their swords in a spring that babies along the roadside, they glance up and down the road to make sure that nobody is in sight; drag the body far into the thicket; sprinkle sand over the bloody traces along the road; then seize the dispatch box and bound into the woods.

Genius Couldn’t Be Bought.

Urban Mahrer, a German mechanic and scholar, who died in Pittsburg on April 19 at the age of almost 80 years, was a genius of more-than ordinary interest. When he- eame to Pittsburg over a half century ago, he built with his own hands-the house in which he died. He never worked for profit, but had his house filled with all manner of useful devices and ornamental things. Ijhe machinery and tools, of his own making, included everything from stone-cutters’ coarse implements to those of watchmakers’. There are . twenty-seven clocks in-the several rooms of his house, from the tiny time-keeper over his bed to the ponderous nine-footer in the hall, and every one of them is all his handiwork. Therq is a glob© clock which he made for the Alle gheny observatory, fixing the price at syoo and then refused to sell at all, saying his genius couldn’t be bought. His last work was a model in brass of the proposed mammoth bridge to be built across North river, New York.

Nearly 1,000 laborers at the World’s Fair grounds are very bitter against McArthur Bros., who, they sdy, have abused and bamboozled them from the start A general strike may take place any day.

THE NORTH OF GREENLAND.

Ident. Peary's Coming Expedition ft* Find the Terminus of the Island . Hew York Sun. / \. J:-' ~ Lieut. R. E. Peaty, U. S. M., who is soon to start with a party of six to find the northern extremity of Greenland, is less than forty years of age. He is a native of Maine, and was appointed as a civil engineer in the navy In 1881. In appearance he is rather slender, although very strongly built, and is capable of great endurance. The proposed trip’is not the first one that Peary has made into the Arctic region. His interest in explorations of this kind was excited soon after he entered the navy. Greelys party had started out in 1881, and was no|; rescued until 1884. The report of that party showed that Lockwood and Brainard had gone overland, and had reached the highest point north. Lieut. Peary then conceived the idea of making an Arctic trip overland, but not for the purpose of reaching the north pole. He had a theory that Greenland was not the huge continent it was supposed to be but rather an island. In 1886 Peary had his first opportunity to test the soundness of his theory of the availibility of the inland fee for travelling. He landed in Disk’s Bay, and with his one companion, instead of following the coast line, struck directly into the interior of Greenland. This preliminary reconnoissance convinced Peary that an expedition might safely and successfully traverse the whole interior length and thus attain the northern extremity of Greenland. In 1888 Dr. Nansen crossed Greenland at a point 200 miles south ol where Peary landed. Nansen’s reg>rt verifies the theory of Lieut. eary as to the interior of Greenland:

It is now Peary’s intention to start from; Whale Sound in about latitude 77 deg. 30 m. His expedition has received no aid whatever from the Government, and is purely a private venture on the part of Lieut. Peary, assisted by some scientific bodies. The following is the outline of Lieut. Peary's- plan: _— - The party numbering six is to be landed by a whaler in June or early In July at Whale Sound, the remainder of the season to be spent in putting up winter quarters in Whale Soune, laying in a supply of meat, making scientific collections, making reconnoisances of the island ice, and, if the season be favorable, establishing an advance depot of supplies near the southern angle of Humboldt glacier. The winter is to be occupied in making and fitting sledges, clothing and traveling equipment, and in snowshoe and “skier” practice, for which the- head' of Whale Sound is well adapted. In the spring four or five of the party will ’ start over the inland ice to Humboldt glacier with sledges, leaving one or two persons in charge of the house. If favorable progress is made the party will go from Humboldt glacier to the head of Peterman Fjord.

SOME GOOD ADVICE.

The Old Man Had Tried Both Kinds and Knew When Xt Was Solid. New York Sum. There was a young man in a seat by himself who betrayed such impatience every time 1 that the train stopped that the old man in front of him finally turned: and inquired: “Anything special on yer mind to make ye act, so narvous? Heard any bad news?” “No, sir.” “Didn’t know bat somebody was dead.” “No. sir. I’m. to be married at 5 o’clock this afternoon in Buffalo.” “Shoo! You. don’t say sol®= “Yes, sir.” “And it makes ye narvous?** “Somewhat, I suppose." “Good looking gal?" “Yes.” “Lots o’- money?" “No.” “Then it’s-a case of love?” “Yes, sir—pure and simple, as 1 am proud to say.” “In other words, you bain’t got nuthin’, she hain’t got nuthin’, and you don’t either of you expect nuthin’ from nobody?” “That’s it.” “Waal, young man, that’s the way with lots o’ folks, and it can’t be helped. Started in that way myselt It hain’t none o’ my bizness* of course, and probably tnis tuiug has gone too. far to let you back out, but let me give you some advice. I’v« tried both sorts. I fust married a gal fer love, and lived fer five years! on Johnny cake and barley coffee. She died and I married a widow fer forty acres of land, six cows-, three horses, and fifty-four sheep, and I’m highway commissioner, postmaster at our corner, school trustee and referee of all jumping matches in the county. If it haint too late when ye gft to Buffalo, just move that tne meeting do now adjourn, and then peel yer eyes fer a widder with a farm. Love hain t nuthin but a sort of mist, and it passes off sooner or later, but when ye kin go out and lay yer hand on -land wuth SBO an acre, and hear the hosses, cows and sheep cavoortin’ o’er the downy lea, ye know ye’ve got suthin’ solid back of ye in case yer bones ache with ager.”

Scientists say the onemist will dominate coming inventions.’ All our fuel will presently be furnished in the form of gas. In a quarter of a century more we shall wonder why man was ever such a fool as to carry ooal into the house and burn it