Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 31, Number 177, 24 July 1906 — Page 7

Vhe Kichmond Palladium, Tuesday, July 24, 1908,'

Page Sevciu

Whose Say-so is Best? With nearly all medicines nut ud for

sale through druggists, one has to take the maker a say-so alone as to their curative value. Of course, such testimony la not that of a disinterested party and accordingly la not to be given thn same I credit as If written from disinterested motives. Dr. Pierce's medicines, however, form a ulngle and therefore striking exception to this rule. Their claim3 to tho confidence of invalids does not rest solely upon their makers' say so or praise. Their ingredients are matters of public knowledge, being printed on each separate bottle wrapper. Thus invalid sufferers are taken into Dr. I'ierce's full confidence. Scores of leading medical men have written enough to till volumes In praise of tho curative value of the several ingredients entering into these well-known medicines. Amongst these writer we And such med ical lights a t'rnl. Unify Klllnifwcxxl. M. IX. of Bonnet Medical College, Chicago; l'rof. Hale, of the name city; l'rof. John M. 8cuider, M. V., late of Cincinnati, Ohio; Prof. John King. M. I)., late of Cincinnati. Ohio: Pr.-'iWTfr Coe, of New York; Ir. fljnrilio-low-of Jefferson Medical CollPireJ of l'a.. ana acores of ot tiers equally emlncdt. Ur. Fierce' tarorlte I'resrrlptl it cures tne worst ranes or female wknei prolapu. ante version and retroversion a correrts dries up i. Homea moltlwomen. Irreirularitte, cures painful perlo disagreeable and weakening Ur; rlcwi times known as pelvic ratan tule of other diseases uccu bear In mind, it Is not a pat aecret medicine, but the "Far tlon" of a rtitrularly educate nor even a Prescripmt siclan. of large experience In tho cur of woman's peculiar ailments, who frank: and rotiHdIs full roninjriy takes tils patients inu. flounce by telllnsr them fust 1 hat his "Pro crtttlon " U comDosed of. Of no other medi cine put up for woman's m'-UI maladies and sold through drugiristfi. can It le saU that the maker Is not afraid to deal thus frankly, openly and honorably, by letting every patient using tho same know exactly What she Is taking. Hick women are Invited to consult Dr. Pierce, by letter, free. All correspondence is guarded as sacredly secret and womanly confidences ate protected by Jrofessional privacy. Address Dr. li. V. Merce, Buffalo. N. Y. How to preserve health and beauty Is told in Dr. Pierce's Common Sense Medical. Adviser. Jt Is free. For a papercovered copy Rend Dr. R. V. Pierce, Buff.ilo. N. Y., Ul ore-cent stamps to cover mailing wily i in cloth binding 31 stamps. Dr. Plerce'a Pellets cure constipation. fKf BUI IIV (iWbWI 111 WU -L0 Western & Southern Lit Ins. Co. Rooms 33-34, CotonDl Bldg. homm pnoxi We earnestly aoltcit yol patronage I HARRY WOOD wirinW . I X CHANDELIEATynd z ELECTRICAL SUPPLIES t Heme Phone 1343. Bell 263 W2 'ARLINGTON HOTEL? jBarbcr SHopj I First class work by lass bar Tbcra, unuer strict! tary condi-f Itiont. Your pat e souciled IJEFF MEYE PR! Tn't ROUND TRIP -TOChautauqua Grounds , Near FrankBn, 0. Via DAYTON & WESTERN TRACTIOD CO. Selling dates July 20th to August 6th. Tickets good returning until August ls 1906. Call Up (cither phone) Wc take ybur Want Ads by Phone and Charge Them Notice of Appointment. ; State of Indiana, Wayne Countv. ..

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This remark certainly had the effect of throwing the holder of the fortress off her guard. It swept away the tribulation from her brow. After all, the case might not be so serious ns sfce had thought, and Jubilantly she welcomed the respite, for she had no wish to add a humiliation to the wrong which fate bad decreed jhe should work upon him. She breathed a sigh of relief and said: "What guise? I'm afraid I do not understand." "You see, hitherto we have been shielded by a pass. Its wording was such that little inquiry was made about either of us. Now, for the first time, we have no protection, and what we say to those who accost us must prove our safeguard. I shall be asked who you are. I told your brother that I would treat you as if you were my own istcr, but I cannot call you my sister Bt Oxford." "Why not?" ' "For one reason, because you go to meet friends who know that I am not your brother, and if inquiry is made we are at a disadvantage." "True, true! I had forgotten." "Another reason is that if we claimed such relationship no one would believe us, for your hiiir is as black as the raven's wing and mine is like the yellow corn." "I had not thought of that," she said. "But I thought of It, and also of a way to circumvent it. If they ask who the lady is I shall tell them she is my letrothed." "Xo, no, no!" gasped the girl. He was now close by her side and endeavored to take her hand, but she held it from him. "You say no because you will not act a lie,-and I honor you for jour truth. You are robed in truth, my beloved, as an angel is" "Oh, cense, cense, I beg of you!" "Frances, this is the song that bubbles in my heart, and If my Hps could worthily fulfill their prompting I would put it to such words and such music as woman never listened to before. But, lacking eloquence, I can only say, My lady, I love you." "And I can only say I am sorry if this be so." "If! Why do "you say if? Do r-u not know it to be true?" "I know It now that you tell it to me." "You do not love me?" "No." "And cannot?" "And cannot." "Y'ou would even rob me of all hope, the lover's guiding star?" "If you call it robbing to take from you what should never have been possessed." "Why should I not have possessed that hope? Is it because I am untitled, while you are the daughter of the man who was the proudest peer in England?" "Titles have naught to do with it." "Titles are but a breath still, men have intrigued for them, have sold their souls for them, as others have bartered for gold. That shall I do. I thought never to beg from any man, yet for this king I stake my life, and it is but fair he should cover my wager. I will say to him, I go to Scotland on your behest, through an enemy's country. Death or treachery dog every footstep I take. I may win or lose, but if i win then I demand the stakes, which will not take a silvtr penny from your depleted treasury. Make me Earl of the Southern Marches." "Y'ou ak a Just reward, but 'twould be useless as assistant to the quest you now pursue." "Frances, no lover truly entitled to bear that dear name thinks himself worthy of her on whom his heart is set, and I do not plead my own worthiness when I 6ue for your favor. But I am buoyed up by the thought that every day we live some woman marries some man, therefore are women to be persuaded, and there are none on earth but us to persuade them. Why should my fortune be worse than that of my fellows?" "Sir, you forget or ignore that every day of our lives some woman refuses some man and never marries him. Why should your fortune differ from that of so many of your fellows?" "You have pierced the armor there, my girl, so I own my simile defective and fall back on my own unworthiness, to beseech your pity on it and point the way to that amendment whl:li will isake me deserving" In your eyes." "Sir, you force me unduly. You drive me toward confession. Pitying God is my witness that I hold naught against you. Y'ou must accept my answer as final and let us have au end of this' fruitless and embarrassing conversation. I can never marry you." "There is but one circumstance to prevent it." "Then believe that circumstance exists." "You love another?" "I do not." Tho young man laughed joyously, but no corresponding smile disturbed the set lips of the girl. When he accused her of loving another she glanced up at him for one brief moment and answered before she thought, wishing her reply recalled as soon as it was uttered, for if she had agreed with him he himself had said it was at an end. Bitterly did she regr.-t her heedless destruction of the barrier which would have separated them. Now she must erectauother more terrible, more complete, be the consequences what they may. "Sir, you laugh. I am glad your heart Is light, for mine is heavy enough. If. I loved another 'twere a small matter, for the man were not likely so estimable in a woman's eyes as you are. As I have said, you drive me toward confession, and here is one bold enough for a maiden to make. I i admit you please me well, and If I bad !

"By ... 'ROHE'RT

7$ AUK.. JK.trthor of "Jennie ttajcter. Journalist " Etc. loreu another a woman's aitection is fickle you were Iik to benefit by its transference. But there is an obstacle between us more serious than the one you proclaimed sufficient. Take that as truth and ask me no more." "I must be the Judge of the obstacle. What is it?" "I shall make full confession when this war is finished if you ask. me." "But the war can have nothing to do with your feeling toward me or my adorationt)f you." "You shall judge when you hear." "Then let me hear now." "No. Y'our persistence when you see how distraught I am dims your title of gentleman. A lady should not be coerced." "Your censure Is jnst; but. oh, pity my despair if this obstacle be real. It cannot be real. Whatever it is it shall dissolve before my burning love as mist before the sun. Tell it to me now that I may show you that it is the fabric of a vision." Tho girl remained silent, her impetuous lover fiercely questioning her bowed head with his eyes. But as if In the interval of stillness a specter intervened between them and brought a startled expression into his eyes, their intensity sharpened suddenly, and he said In a low voice: "Do not tell me you are already married?" "I am wedded to deceit. Sir, I am not worthy your love or that of any other honest man. If you knew what It costs me to say this you would let these words be the last we speak in this painful debate." "Deceit? Not worthy of any honest man? Lord save you, child of sweet innocence: If this is all that troubles you there Is nothing in our way to the church. Y'our eyes are limpid wells of honesty. You could not harbor a deceitful thought if you tried. I would trust my life, my honor, my very soul, to your keeping, assured that" "Halt!", came a sharp command. Armstrong looked up like a man awakening from a dream. " 'Fore heaven!" he cried, wonder stricken. "We're on the outposts of Oxford." A ragged soldier barred the way, with musket held horizontally. An officer in a uniform that had once been gaudy, but now showed signs of hard usage, came out from the cabin at the side of the road when he heard the sentinel's challenge. Though his costume was so threadbare, he carried it with a swagger that had almost a touch of Insolence in it, but this bearing melted to a debonair deference when he saw a handsome young woman before him. He lifted his hat and addressed her companion. 'Tardon me. Have you the password?" "No. I am from Scotland and bear a message to his majesty the king." "From Scotland? May I glance at your credentials?" "I carry none. I have come through a hostile country, have been searched once or twice and arrested as often. Had there been writing on me I should not now be standing at the doorstep of Oxford." "I Bhair do myself the honor of -conducting you to the chamberlain of his majesty. And the lady?" Armstrong took the girl's hand, this time without opposition on the part of its owner. It was cold as ice. "The lady is my wife," he said boldly, then added In a whisper heard only by herself, nhat is to be." CHAPTER 'XXII. PHE one on foot and the two on horseback entered the fortress which had hitherto proved impregnable and traversed its streets until they came to the Crown inn. Oxford was no longer the home of learning for any art save that of war. A few students still strolled its thoroughfares, but the military man was everywhere. The colleges had been turned into barracks and arsenals; the king himself lived in Christchurch, over the towers of which floated the royal standard, now almost the Only red spot in all England. As the party came to a, halt the officer turned to Armstrong. "A propitious meeting," he said. "Here comes the lord great chamberlain himself." Armstrong noted the approach of a man with a countenance so remarkable that it might have been taken as typical of war. From brow to chin was ffrawn a !ongre5 'scar, while another ran transversely across the forehead Just over the eyes, so that there flamed from his face an angry cross that gave a most sinister expression to a visage which, lacking these time healed wounds, would have been handsome. The chamberlain stopped abruptly in his advance, his gaze riveted upon the girl, and there came into his eyes a look of such malignity that Armstrong Instantly turned his glance upon his traveling companion. The girl's cheeks had gone deathly white, and she swayed blindly in her saddle, perilously near to falling. The roung man sprang from his horse and caught her just in time. Bitterly he blamed himself for this unexpected collapse, cursing his persistence on the road when he had plainly seen that some strong emotion tormented her. This mental perturbation, combined with the physical strain she had undergone during their long journey, fully accounted for the prostration of the moment at the end. "My poor lass," he said regretfully, "I am to blame. I am a thoughtless, selfish hound to have so sorely troubled you with my insistence." "It is not that," she whispered faintly, leaning heavily on him with the pathetic helplessness of a tired' child, a dependence which sent a thrill of pity and love for her tingling to his finger ends. "Take me in; take me in quickly. I am ill." Now the lord great chamberlain, all smiles. and courtesy, stepped forward

ana said witn authority to tne innkeeper: - "The chief rooms in the house for the lady. Turn out whoever occupies them, whatever their quality." The landlord called his wife, and Frances was given into her care. The officer introduced the traveler to the high official: "My lord chamberlain, this gentleman says he has come from the Scottish nobles with a message for his majesty. Sir, M. de Courcy, lord great chamberlain to the king." Frenchman and Scot bowed to each other, the grace of the gesture being almost entirely in favor of the former despite his marred face. "Sir," said Armstrong to the officer, "I thank you for your guidance, and you, my lord," to De Courcy, "for your kind and prompt command witla respect to the lady. She has had a long and tiring journey through a dangerous country, under continual fear of arrest, and so it is not to be wondered that a woman should succumb to the strain at the last." "The officer who has left us did not give me your name, sir," said De Courcy. "I nm William Armstrong, somewhat known on the border, a Scottish gentleman and a loyal stibject of his majesty the king." "Then you are very welcome in Oxford, and I am sure his majesty wishes there were more like you in the environs thereof and the regions beyond. It is now too late to see the king today, and probably you are not loath to meet a night's rest after a hard day's riding. I will arrange a conference for you with his majesty as soon as. possible." "Thank you. If I may hint that every day is of value you will perhaps urge upon the king the danger of delay." "I shall not fail to do so. Good night." For the first time in hls'llfe Armstrong left his horse to the care of others and entered the inn to inquire after the welfare of the lady who absorbed his thoughts. She sent word that she wns quite recovered, but would see no one until the morrow. With this he wns fain to be content, and he wandered about the town in the gathering dusk, hoping to do her a service by discovering the whereabouts of Lord Jtudby's son, to whom he supposed she carried some message from her brother. He learned that this young man, who was a captain in the king's army, had been sent, it was supposed, to London, but nothing had been heard of him for a month or more, and whether he was prisoner or not none could say. This intelligence depressed Armstrong, who feared that the girl bad taken her long Journey for nothing and that the falling to find the one she sought might entail serious consequences upon her brother or herself, for each in turn had manifested great concern touching the mission she had undertaken. Next morning his first visitor was the lord chamberlain, who expressed

deep regret that the king was indisposed and could not see any emissary from the Scots that day. The high official spoke feelingly of the disappoiutment the monarch had been called upon to endure through the unmerited success of his rebellious subjects, and this statement seemed to the traveler only what was to have been expected. During the day Armstrong was privileged in securing one brief interview with Frances. The landlord had placed two rooms at her disposal, and in the scantily furnished parlor the young man had called upon her. The improvement she had affirmed the evening before was scarcely borne out by her appearance, for she was wan and dispirited, so much so that when Armstrong announced the disappearance of Captain Rudby the tidings did not seem to depress her more than was already the case. However, the news clung to her mind, for as he was telling her that the king could not see him that day she suddenly said, in a tone which showed she had not been listening, that as Captain Rudby was not in Oxford there was no reason why she should stay she would go on at once to Banbury and there await the coming of Armstrong. But the young man would not hear of such a course. It was impossible, he said, that an unprotected lady in the disturbed state of the country should travel alone between Oxford and Banbury. It was not likely trat he would be held from the king more than another day, and then they would both set out together. Besides, she needed all the rest she could obtain before they turned north again. The girl was too deeply dejected even to argue the question, when he so strenuously opposed her desire. It seemed that a contrary fate was tightening the coils around her, and all struggle against it was fruitless. There were unshed tears in her eyes as she glanced timidly up at him, and she had the haunted look of one who was trapped. The unforeseen meeting with Do Courcy, although Cromwell's words should have prepared her for it, had completely unnerved her; that nightmare face of his confronting her whenever she closed her eyes. The past had come up before her in its most abhorrent guise. She remembered striking him fiercely with the jagged iron she happened to hold in her hand, and thought anything was justified that enabled her to escape his clutches, but that he would carry so fearful a disfiguration to his grave chilled her with fear of his vengeance; for if ever murder shone from a man's eyes it glared in his when she caught his first glance the evening before. All during the night the terrifying vision drove sleep from her couch, and she pondered on some possible method of escape, but without result. How gladly she would have confided her peril to Armstrong, did she stand in honest relation to him, but she could not bring herself to ask help from a man whom she bad just rejected and whom she would, shortly rob. When Armstrong mentioned the absence of Rudby, she;had utterly forgotten that the ostensible reason for this Oxford Journey was to see him, and for a moment it appeared that here lay a loophole of escape, but Armstrong's out spoken opposition to her plan left her with no adequate excuse for persisting in it. During this unsatisfactory coming to gether little was said j by either. The girl sat in a'chair by a small-table, and

ne stood on tne other side. Most of the time her head rested on her hand, and he saw she was near to tears. He censured himself again for his ill timed avowal of the day before, but saw no method by which he could annul its consequences save by saying nothing more. On the third day of his stay in Oxford the suave De Courcy was compelled to bewail the continued indisposition of the king. There were various important matters awaiting his majesty's attention, he said, but nothing could be done until his recovery. Meanwhile, to pass time that must be hanging heavily on the visitor's hands, the thoughtful Frenchman suggested that Armstrong should indulge in a stroll around the fortifications. As soon as he was out of sight De Courcy hastened back to the inn, passed up the stair and knocked at the door of the room occupied by Frances Went worth. On receiving permission to enter he went, in and closed the door behind him. The girl, who had expected a different caller, rose from her chair and stood silent. "Madam, this is a meeting which I have long looked forward to with pleasant anticipation." "Sir, I regret that I have no share in your felicity." "Perhaps you prefer that we should meet as enemies." "I prefer that we should not meet at all, and, knowing this, you may be good enough to make your visit as short as possible." "I cannot find words to express my sorrow on learning I am 6o unwelcome. I am sure that when last we met I did my best to make your visit as long as I could, so whj' should you wish to shorten mine?" It seemed to thp girl that there was something unnecessarily shameless in his allusion to a circumstance that had so disfigured him. As she made no reply he went on with airy nonchalance: "Will you excuse me if I lock the door, and, showing that experience is a proficient schoolmaster, I ask the extension of your forgiveness to cover the act of putting the key in my pocket? We live and learn, you know. Not that I fear any interruption, for the Innocent and excellent Scot is at this moment investigating our battlements and will not return this three hours or more." The polite intruder locked the door and put the key in his pocket, then advanced toward her. She retreated to the other room, and for a moment he thought she was about to barricade herself within, but she reappeared on the instant with a jeweled dagger in her hand. "I warn you, sir, that if "you approach within striking distance I will pierce you to the heart." The Frenchman smiled and waved his fine white hands with a gesture of inimitable grace. "Fairest of the Wentworths," he said, "may I sit down, and if I place this table between us will you feel safej?" "Y'ou will be safer so long as it remains between us."

"I assure you my own safety weighs but lightly with me.' I implore you to be seated, for I cannot converse at ease with a lady who is standing." "I prefer to stand. Y'our Ingrained courtesy will then cause you to make' our conference brief." "It distresses me to say that you nre prolonging the conference by standing. We have grave particulars of state policy to discuss, and I cannot begin while you are so cruel as to put me in the light" "Oh, very well!" cried Frances impatiently, taking her own chair, whereupon he, elegantly gracious, seated himself opposite her, with the table between them. He waited for a few moments, but, she making no remark, he' continued: "Grief for the loss of you filled my heart. You think I come here as an enemy, but I come as a suppliant. In the folly of that time at Whitehall I refused you marriage, and I do not wonder you were wroth at me. I wish to atone for what you Justly considered an insult, and am willing to marry you in the face of the world." "I thank you." "I shall ask no questions anent this awkward Scot who has been your tourier, for I am sure you can have thought nothing of him." "I thank you." "Y'ou return thanks coldly, but I know that is the English nature. The fire of France is not to be expected In this northern clime, but if you say yes to my pleading I am satisfied." "If I wished for fire I would go down and not abroad for it. I had sooner wed the fiend from the pit than you." De Courcy laughed lightly. "That were a sulphurous mating indeed! Still you see how I adore you when I restate my determination to occupy the devil's place at your side before the altar. You but whet my expectation, for I should dearly love to tame you as your Shakespeare tamed his shrew." "That you shall never do while a hand's breadth of steel will rid me of you, or myself of the world. Escape is too easy." "Not from an Oxford dungeon, my dear. This mediaeval town furnishes us with dark pits in which there is no fire, and consequently they have a cooling effect on the hottest temperament. These are pits of which I am the fiend. My dear, you underrate my power or overrate my patience." "There are English gentlemen in Oxford. On what plea could you induce them to think that an English lady should be placed in a dungeon?" "Yes, there are English gentlemen here, and some French gentlemen as well. They are unanimous in their detestation of a spy, male or female. Your man we shall hang out of hand, and there will be little difficulty about the pleasing task, t shall myself plead that your life be spared, and they will agree. Everything will be done with that beautiful legality which the English so much admire, but even from this moment you are entirely in my power, and a sensible woman should not need 60 much argument to convince her that the situation is hopeless. "Armstrong is no spy." "He may have difficulty in proving he is not. I am glad to note that you admit by inference that you are a spy." "I can prove he is not a spy." "Your evidence would be tainted. Ton are an accomplice. Besides, you could not clear him without condemning yourself." ' "Such will I gladly do. I glory In that I would' sacrifice myself with joy

to save William Armstrong, the awkward Scot, as you called him. Besides, one word 'from me to Armstrong will transfer the danger to you. He will break j-ou like a reed." "Indeed, my dear, you do yourself injustice in threatening me. You shall have no opportunity of speaking your one word, for when next we meet, if we part now without coming to amicable arrangement, you will be on your knees to me pleading for his life." "That will I not I shall go to the king." "Frances, you dishearten me and cast grave doubts on the' possession of that sound sense with which I credited you. Was your first appeal to the king for a inan's life so successful that you build hopes on a second?" "If Charles had kept his word with me then he would not now be encaged in Oxford. He abandoned my father and clung to such as you. and not a foot of English ground remains to him but what he stands on." "What would have happened had Strafford lived, neither you nor I can tell, and all discussion thereon is aside

from our present purpose. Will you make terms with me?" "I will not." - "You prefer the dungeon?" "Y'oxi dare not imprison me.' "Why?" "Y'our master will not allow you." "My dear, let me put a quietus forever upon your mad idea that any help is to be expected from the king. I beg you to believe that I speak the exact truth. Do you know what the king thinks of you?" "He does not think of me at all. He has forgotten me." "Pardon me. There you are mistaken. He thinks you came to Whitehall the day of your father's death to assassinate him. He believes that I imperiled my life to save his. The scars of your claws, however repulsive they may be to others, are to him a constant reminder of his supposed debt to me. Judge you then, my dear, what your position in Oxford would be did the king but dream you had crept surreptitiously into his stronghold. Need I say moref "No. But you should have paid better heed to what I said." "What did you say?" "I said your master would not permit you to injure me." "But I have shown you that the king" "I am not speaking of the king. Y'our master is Oliver Cromwell." Either the cross on his face became redder or the sudden pallor of his other features mfffe it appear so. Slowly Le withdrew his elbows from the table and leaned back in his chair, moistening his lips, gazing on the girl with the intensity of a newborn fear. She sat motionless, returning his look without flinching. For some moments the room was as silent as if it were deserted. At last he spoke huskily: "What do you expect to gain by making so absurd a statement?" The girl rose, with a gesture of impatience, walked to the window and back,

fin WWW-lv -,, Mite .-'.;,:,,

"RISE, SIR WILLIAM . ARMSTRONG.'

then to the window again,' and unfastened a latch that let free a latticed sash, as if the room stifled her and she wanted air. Then she exclaimed: "Oh, let us have a truce to this fooling. I am tired of it You say I shall beg on my knees to you, but you have mistaken your own attitude for mine. Why do I make such a statement? Because Cromwell told me in Northampton that if I met difficulty in Oxford you, his spy, would assist me." "Heavens!" "Aye, heavens! Y'ou did not think such a man would blab out secrets of death to a woman, but there is this to say on his behalf, that he was merely recommending one spy to another. He thought mutual safety would be their bond of union, and he was right" "Then you knew you would meet me in Oxford? Why did you seem so distraught when the event happened? That was acting, I suppose, to fall the easier into the arms of the Scot" "I had bo need to act to. bring that about I hoped to avoid you, and would have done so but for the chance encounter. And now you see, sir. that my peril is as nothing to yours. I have but to strike open this leaded pane and cry to the officers passing in the street: 'I am the daughter of Lord Strafford. Help me, for here I am caged with a French spy, a creature who has sold king and comrades for Cromwell's gold.' "Do not speak so loud, woman? There is no need for frenzy. I did but jest when I spokeof molesting you." "I am in no -Jesting, mood. "You do not need to tell me that I am quite willing, to further your be hests, if you but trust' me an4 tell what jreu want,"

-can you expect me to trust -you T asked the girl, coming back to the table. "I suppose I have not earned your trust" "Oh, but you have. I trust you Implicitly because you stand under the shadow of the scaffold, and at a word from me the bolt Is drawn. Y'ou will postpone all thought of revenge until your neck is out of the noose; of that I am very well convinced. I refuse to make terms with you. but I give my commands, which you must rigidly follow unless you court calamity. Y'ou will take Armstrong to the king and cease to block his way. Yon will see that we are free to leave Oxford and are unmolested while we are within these walls. One false move and you bring your doom upon you." "I implore you to be calm, madam. I swear I will carry out your orders to the letter. Do not, I beg of you, take panic at any chance word by another." "Unlock the door and leave me. See that you do not come again."

CHATTER XXIII. ON the morning of the fourth day Armstrong was delighted to learn from De Courcy that the king had recovered and would see him at noon. The foreigner engaged the envoy in a long conversation, the object of which wag to discover whether or not the girl had said anything to him of the excited conference of the day before. The unsuspecting Scot, entirely off his guard, thinking he spoke with a friend, was read by the other like an open book, and D Courcy was 6poedily convinced that Frances Wentworth had kept her own counsel. This gave the spy renewed confidence, and as they walked down the street together De Courcy held his head higher than had been tho case when he last turned his back upon the Crown inn. His buoyant natura was quick to recover from depression, and his malice, fed anew from hit late rebuff, set his alert mind at work to contrive some plan whereby ha might salve his wounded pride and avenge himself on the girl and his favored rival, even at seme slight risk to himself. Although the danger of exposure seemed imminent enough when he was with her, he knew that aa she grew calmer and reflected upon Vim sltua tion she would be more "and" more r luctant to wreck everything in order to bring punishment upon'him.'He would get them out of Oxford' that day it possible, but he would' instill a poison in the young lover's mind that would take all sweetness f romthe journey. De Courcy had offered to show Arm strong the way 'to the king's) rooms, so that there should be no delay when the Scot set out -for his i appointment at 12 o'clock, anditheyhad,now entered the quadrangle 'of ? Christchurch, which was deserted save for the guard! at the gate. Armstrong thanked him foi his guidance, and was turning away, when the other, who seemed about to epeaa, glanced at tne soldiers on auty) then, thinking the . spot ill chosen . f ol what he had to say.MnYlted the Scot to his room. They went up a stair togethel and entered De Courcy 's apartment, th Host setting out: wine ana asung w guest to seat, himself. Has the lady who accompanied yon quite recovered from her fatigue?" ask ed De Courcy indifferently. - "Well, as I told you, I met her yesterday for a few moments only, and I am sorry she was not in the highest spirits, but she will be the better foi seeing the green fields again. Like my self, she is of the country, and does not thrive within the walls of a town." "Y'es, I noticed that when she was in London," V . ; . "In London? Did you know her in London?" "Oh, hasn't she told you of our relationship? Perhaps I should not have mentioned it" "What do you mean by your relationship? You are French; she is pure Enelisb. ' (Continued Tomorro-r CASTOR! A TtT T. J..r.t8 and Children. The Kind Yon Hare Ahrap Bcr Bears tho Signature of I Hagerstown j Excursion. - Via PennsylT In am Ttilv 4a 27th Inclusive 60 cents round trio !rom Richmond. -17-20:24-27