Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 8, Number 10, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 25 August 1877 — Page 6

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WM *e*

THE MAIL

v. PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

CLOUDS.

As I lie by my window dreaming, OB th sultry so mer day, I WH tch the clouds that aie floating Ho for, all! far away! And it's worth tbe time I'm speeding loan observation grand. for it brings to my mind a picture That Is touched by a master tiand.

As I watch tbelr evolutions. Ti thought comes to ray mind That in their variousblendings Fantastic forms I And. Now broad winged birds are sailing Far off into tbe west And I know they never will return In tbe same gay plumage dressed.

*»:sfR

S'ately animals 1 likes arefeldom seen id are moving by,

me glide,

The likes aref And chariots grand (The first contains a queen) And as tbey softly float away, The horizon far tayon

Tbey seem into mighty giants, Gradually to Lave turned.

Then flocks of white sbeep leisurely -v Troop to their pasture field. And nere the giants come again, £3. And each one bears a shleid There tali old towers and castles rise,

And look In stem derision Upon the slants filing part ff And thus they change iny vision

'J"-'.1'- Fo.- namelea* forms appear to rise, **'5 From out that very place A moment stop, then past me glide

And vanish into space. Sfc Then thoughts revert to nearer things, An I sigh and end this with, "There seems no law in the world change And permanence is a myth."

but

The Discarded Wife.

A ROMANCE OP THE AFFECTIONS.

BY H. ARTHUR GRATTAN.

®s

Author of "Myra Graham," "Marion's Destiny," "The Usurer's Daughter,'" etc. CHAPTER XIV. 2*3

IN HIS POWKR.'

Through the open windows of Col. Wycherley's bouse tbe pattering of fairy footsteps and tbe rustling of rich silks and gauzy drapery mingled with soft, melodious sounds, and floated far away into the stilly nigbt and far across the undulating meadow land, where the ruminating kine pricked up their ears In mild surprise at the unwonted harmony of Charles D'Albert's last new

A brilliant assemblage of youth and beauty graced the hospitable Colonel's handsome drawing rooms for chance bad collected there at least a score more guests tban their host had anticipated would honor him with their presence when, in the morning, he proposed the visit to Edward Jerrold. Several bloom Ing belles were there, with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, red, pouting lips, and '"'glittering teeth, with faultless toilets incasing forms of exquisite grace and sym-

v'£9lme.ry.

It would indeed have been a trying ordeal for any commonplace or clumsy fsQ: woman to have taken her place in the I midst of this bevy of beauties, whom III one might almost have bten led to supHji "pose had been gathered together in their rivalry, the fkirest to oarry off the prize.

They were, with the exception of one or two mammas, who were stowed out of harm's way In tbe background, all young maidens with disposable hearts and hands, should an eligible partner put in an appearance, and, indeed, there was no lack of partners of tbe most ell^fglble nature. 8otne young fox hnnting tquires, with great rent rolls, some tawny mustacbed cavalry officer*, very well looking and very well off, were all very devoted in appearanoe and very severe, as far as could be judged.

It seemed that night as though sever%i couples were Mpon tbe brink of making a match of it. and you may be sure that the old ladle in the background to whom I have alluded, watched the progress of the several flirtations, in which, their fair oung charges were engaged, with no small anxiety—occasionally too, blended with a considerable amount of gratification.

Indeed, nothing could be more favorable than was the appearance of the matrimonial horizon, when a certain event occurred which tended to throw a damper upon these llttlo hymeneal arrangements and this, strange to relate, was tb« arrival of a married 1

July—a no

body, in foot—the wife, if you must have it, of nothing better tban a sea Captain.'

That such a person as this could prove a very formidable rival to a roomful of beautiful young single ladies mast seem to all single ladles as it does to roe, too, ft both ridiculous and improbable but it ls^novertheless, the foot.

From the moment that the vision of a 1,1. pale and lovely face, ael in a frame of dark, glossy hair, broke in upon tbe happy little assembly, all other beauty faded into Insignificance.

Not by degree*, and one by one, did the gallants rail off from thosd idols of f" whom hitherto thvy had been devoted worshipers, but with one accord they seemed drawu toward her. They aurrounded her, watched ber slightest movement, listened In rapt attention to hor smallest word.

A buas

soon went round of 'Who Is

•b®*' But no one oould be lound to auswer. Most of those assembled failed to answer. Most of the ladies and gentleman -Of who were there gathered together beaeatb tbe Colonel's hospitable roof had 'i- S' come ftroin some distance to be present at this gathering, and those who were the nearest neighbors yet knew nothing of her.

Since Edward Jerrold has been at sea, she bad lived a most retired llfo—refUaIng. as the Colonel had said, all invitations sent to her by those among the neighboring gentry who were desirous ot her society.

When first she was married to the Captain, who belonged to a very goad family. Eleanor, though hither mownin an obscure sphere, had been receive at once Into society, and her grace and beauty had secured her a good recep•mm Uon.

But, a few happy months having pass* J* ed, the sea Captain was called away, as we have sees, by his duties and Elean«rf or had closed her doors upon the world, and, in spite of all persuasion and e»:treaty, refused to show her face to those

vbo,

even upon so short an acquaintance, had grown quite eager for her presence at U»elr parties.

Her appearance here, thla evening, then, wore all the charm of novelty, and the fickle youths who a while ago had been only too happy to be allowed to lay their devotion at the white satin I slippers of the blooming maidens who a now and then vouchsafed a UUle mild encouragement, forgot aU about their former nhtation, and had no e: I oars for aught else save the pa who came among them nnex like a beautiful spirit flrvm th* other world.

Who has not seen, at auch a gathering as this, one beauty eclipsing all— throwing all the rest Into toe sbadfr— reigning supreme and glorious—the queen of all she surveys, before whose magnificence all otber'beauty fades Into nothingness, and retires without a struggle? 'This Is, indeed, an unexpected pleasure!' said tbe Colonel, coming forward, radiant with Smiles, to weloome bia old friend's wife. 'I never expected to see you any more but, as you have come, 1 shall take care you do not escape us sgain

easily. Therefore, to begin with

I insist upon dsnoing with yon in the next quadrille.' Late into tbe night the sounds of the merriment within echoed clearly across tbe sloping pastures without, generally at such an hour dsrk and still as a desert isle, from tbe face of which the sun has gone down beyond the wide and wepry waste of water which hemmed It ln«

Could it be that a loiterer from tbe village, anxious to obtain a view of the festivities, was lurking about tbe premises? or were the dogs in the stable yard rendered more tban ordinarily irritable by the unwonted noise, and barked without a cause?

Conld some poacher hsve selected, this particular night as a favorable one for bis depredations? Was it some rustic sweetheart of one. of the pretty serving maids?

Whatever might have been the ob ject of tbe intruder, it is quite certain that he took great precautions to avoid detection.

Cautiously he crept round about the bouse, keeping in the shadow of the trees, and under the wall side, watching and listening.

Creeping nearer and nearer. Then, suddenly taking alarm, and stealing away again with stealthy footsteps, only to return, after a brief pause, to take up the position which he bad dosortod*

The night was in its midst when a servant announced a visitor who was desirous of a few moments' conversation with the Colonel.

It was Percy Hardwicke, who bad come with a plausiole and well considered tale, aDd who, you may be sure, managed so to play his cards that a few minutes afterward be found his way to tbe ball room.

You have a friend of mine here, I fancy,' said the smiling gentleman, 'unless I mistake that voice,' and he turned as he spoke, toward a card table, where Edward Jerrold was seated at whist. •Ah, and we have Mrs. Jerrold, also!' replied tbe host. 'Are you acquainted with her also?' •I have never bad the pleasure of meeting ber before,' said Percy Hardwicke. 'Will you introduce me?' 'With pleasure!'

The Colonel led him, as bespoke, toware one end of tbe room, where a beautiful lady sat in tbe midst of a gay and laughing circle of admirers. •My dear Mrs. Jerrold, allow me to introduce you to my friend, Mr. Percy Hardwicke.'

Did she scream? Did she fall? There was scarcely the least change in her face, as she raised her eyes to his. Perhaps for a moment tbe color faded from her lace, and left on it a deathlike pallor.

But this might have been fancy. It might have been only the effect of the gas.

Sbe met his gaze steadily euough, and be looked at ber fixedly, wondering as he did so where tbey could have met before, ifever.

Never, he thought for in vain he racked his memory to recall her features.

No, they certainly could not have met before be could never have forgotten-so beautiful a face, had he seen it.

He begged tbe honor' Of her band for the next dance, and it almost seemed to him that she manifested a certain amount of eagerness to accept the invitation, although it was certain that she could stand in no lack of partners, had she required one.

Between the figures of the dance he took the opportunity of asking whether she had recovered from her late Indisposition.

I am much better,'she replied, with a smile. "I hope you have changed your determination of quitting tbe neighborhood?' ., •Yes happily, the business which I supposed woula have taken me away has Men otherwise arranged-' •Then we may hone for the pleasure of visit from you. I know net how to apologize, as it Is, for the inconvenience you have suffered upon my account.'

The words were somewhat formal and commonplace but the tone in which they were uttered was one of suoh evident admiration that she drew back, with a deep crimson flush suffusing her chookfli

She raised her eyes to bis with a slight frown, but be met tbelr gsza, and tney drooped again beneath his. •She Is afraid of me,' he thought to himself, with one of his sweetest smiles, •And If I only could find the key to her secret. She's very beautiful! Poor little Phoebe!'

Never oould Percy Hardwicke have shown to greater sd vantage than he did that nigbt never had he so tried bis enties to be entertaining. _t was not long before be bsd contrived to rendor himself a general favorite, among the ladle* at least though throughout tbe evening, however he might be engaged, hisgase hever for many moments together wandered from the object upoa which It was concentrated—tbe pale and beautiful face of Eleanor Jerrold.

Perhaps she felt its influence, although she never turned toward him. Perhaps she bad some other reason for wishing to lea re the scene of ber triumph.

She took an opportunity or quietly approaching her husband, and. whisper ing la bis ear. .. 'My darling,' be cried, reproachfully, 'bow neglected of me not to ask you before! I will go at once and give orders about the carriage.'

Mrs. Jerrold's partners toere inconsol able when they heard that she was go-

in§o*soon,

too! tbey said. Oould she not

possibly wait for another dance—for a very little one? •Yoo must not be so long before you honor me again.* said the Colonel, as he led Mrs. Jerrold down sUirs.

The othor gentlemen crowded round to see ber depart. The carriage waa waiting without.

But a disturbance suddenly arose— the aouttA of vetoes In an angry discusaion.

In the midst of the servants waa seen follow, In was renxmof

In the mkw or ssrvanu a drunken lookinc, dissipated a horsey style of dress, who

lm. •Hands oft!' Hi Cried. What do you take me tef tvMaW UlO -MPS •JPtor no good,' one of the anvants said, jeeringly we shouldn't have caught you where we did.* dsoft, Isay. or 1*8 spoil your splendid livarly!'

YOtl nMV«V .... •Hands off, I say. or mi you or your splendid livat

Colonel, leaving toe la

Tbe Colonel, leaving the lady for a while In a place of security, advanced Into the passage to ascertain the causeof

the disturbance. At sight of him the servant* fell back, and allowed him to pm

At the same time they loosened tbelr hold of the man, who, anaklng himself after the fashion ftfa iiet Newfoundland dog, glared angrily at his late assailants, .. •What Is tbe meaning of this?' asked the Colonel •I found this man hanging about the lawn,' said one of tbe game keepers. He said he knew you, sir, and 1 brought him Into tbe house before taking any steps respecting him.'

Tbe Colonel looked at him attentively for a moment, and then said, 'I have nover seen you before. What do you want?' •Ifldont know yon,' retorted rhe man, 'I know onis of your guests. I am nota thief—ask Mrs. Jerrold if I am. •Ask whom?' Inquired the Colonel in surprise. the stranger, strolling a few steps backward, with a kind of movement which ws* half swagger, half stagger, pointed to where Mrs. Jerrold was standing.

As he did so, she shrank back hastily, ss though she would have avoided bim.

Her face, at this moment, wss deadly while, and she trembling so violently tbst sbe could scarcely stand. 'That's her!' said tbe vagabond. 'The Captain's lady, I mean. Sbe knows me, and I know ber. Dont jou, Mrs. Jerrold?'

—ivthing

tbe knowledge can scarcely be to your credit. I have no time to talk to you now. Keep him safe, my men, until give you further orders.

Tbe men advanced to lay hold of the intruder, bat with a fierce gesture he waved them off. •Don't dare to lay a finger upon me, he cried, *or you will rue it. I'm no thief I say, and I'm as respectable as any of you.' 'Why are ycu found lurking a»~out my grounds, then?' asked the Colonel. 'I was doing uo barm.' •What were you doing?' •That's my business,' retorted tbe man, sullenly. 'In any case, it will be my business to keep you in custody till I nave made a few inquiries about you.' 'Keep me in custody?' 'Ay and if you turn out tbe sort of character which I strongly suspect, a month in the county jail will probably

•You'd lock me up, would you?' cried the other, in drunken fury. 'It's more tban you dare do. Lock me up, indeed! I'll tell you wbo I am I'll tell who others are, for that matter—I'll tell you!'

Elpaqor bad stood iu one spot during this scene, as' thttagh her feet had been rooted to the ground.

SoKie of the gentlemen would have led her up stairs again. Several spoke to ber. One offered bis arm, but sbe took no notice of tbe movement—made no reply—seemed not to comprehend tbe meaning of tbe words addressed to her.

At this moment, however, when the drunken trespasser's word* seemed to promise some revelat on, sbe sprung suddenly forward, and made as thougn she would have rushed down into the ball below and arrested the half uttered words.

But ere she could carry iuto effect this intention, if such sbe had, a hand held her wrist.

She looked round quickly, expecting to see her husband i. her side. *01 It was Percy Hardwicke.

The crowd around were all eagerly ^tensted in the scene below, though tbe exact meaning did not ctearly reach tbekfaemprehension.

No one at the moment was paying any attention to Mrs. Jerrold. No one saw this movement of Hardwicke'*, nor the look of surprise and terror which passed over the woman's beautiful face as he bent toward her and whispered in a low tone In ber ear. •Are you mad?' be whispered to her. 'Would you betray yonraelf -Leave It to me.' 'What do you mean?' she asked, In choking acoents, which were scarcely articulate. •Leave it all to me. 1 will secure his release. Your nameshall not come Into question.' 'But—but why do you?' '1 have my reason* for befriending you and I will tell you all tormorro'w niuht —in the field* where I met you with him. I will wait where I met you, just by the stile.'

She looked at him with a wild, staring face, scarcely seeming to comprehend. 'Will you come?' he asked. 'Yes, ye*!' she replied, in a low tone of deep, concentrated angulab 'I will come but go now and get him away. Let him •ay nothing—for Heaveu's sake, let him say nothing!'

CHAPTER

XV.

TOT APPOINTMKJrr.

In spite of his loud assertion* of great respectability, Mr. Slider—for such, of course, waa the name of the drunken intruded—would certainly have ran a very great risk of being consigned to durance vile, with but little ceremony, had not Percy Hardwicke come to his rescue.

In a few well chosen word* he explained away all that appeared suspicious in Mr. Slider's conduct.

Taking tbe Colonel on one aide, he •oon explained that Slider wa* stopping at tbe same inn and that he waa quite a respectable man In his way, and worth aguod deal of money, but he waa somewhat eccentric, and perhape a trifle cracked*

The Colonel, readily accepting this explanation, set Slider at liberty, and, Hardwicke having whispered in his ear an appointment for that night at tbe inn, turned rouod to look after Eleanor.

Dariog tbe explanation, however, abe had descended the stairs, and had been helped into ber carriage.

He was only Justin time to hear tbe rumble of it* wheel* as It disappeared in the distance. •Never mind,' be said to himself white retracing hi* step* to tbe drawing room* above. 'We shall meet sgain, 1 think, and sbe lain my power.'

It was a late hour In ibe night, or a rather early hour in the morning, whan the smiling gentleman rang tbe bell at his inn, on his return from OoL, Wyeherley1* boose.

A very sleepy Boots was making believe to sit up for him, but had fhllen so often

bead first into the lighted candle as to have occasioned partial baldness having a very singular effect, somewhat as though he had been shaved for a priest in the wrong place. 'Has Mr. Slider come inr

'No, thank you I'll light It ben I want it.' •Are yon going to bfd, aiit' aaked the Boot*, witb along face. 'You need not wait up* friend, In any caae. Here's half acovereign for your trouble. Leave me, and I'll come to bed when I'm ready. Where's Mr. Slider?' •In that room, air.' ,4.... ,-ff,.v

'Stop—what are you going to do?' 'To tell him yon have come in, sir.' •Did be say you were to do so?* 'Yea air.' "Then don't! Good night to you. I will tell him myself.'

Tbe Boots stared as hard as bia aleepy eyes would silow, and alowly retreated to his dormitory.

But Hardwicke did not stir from the spot where he hsd been standing when

that be conld act wi.hout the least molestation. Then, having liatened for a moment he drew from bis veet pocket a tiny pis tol, tbe losding of which be carefully examined.

Replacing it in his pocket with a quiet smile, be cautioualy turned tbe handle ofthodoor.

He bad expected to find Slider seated by the lire and as be raised his eyes, that he would have met his face standing there at tbe open door, witb a background of pitcby darkness—a sensational effect the value of which he, as a consummate actor, oould fully estimate.

Such, however, was not tbe case. Slider was sitting by tbe fire In an armchair, but he was fast asleep and breathing heavily. The fire burnt low, and the light burnt dimly.-

Hardwicke very cautiously closed the door bebind bim, and advanced toward tbe unconscious sleeper witb a cat like tread.

Stooping over him, he set to work to rifle his pockets. One after another, with the dexterity of a professional, Percy Hardwicke invaded all tbe receptacles which Mr. Slider's apparel afforded for bis private property, but without discovering snything at all calculated to throw alight upon tbe mystery of bis life.

At length Hardwicke was almost tempted to give tbe search up as hopeless, when a thought occurred to him. 'Perhaps he has a pocket in the lining of bis waistcoat.'

Very cautiously and stealthily be plied his fingers about the person of the sleeping man.

The pocket was where he had suspected. There, also, sure enough, were some papers. Hardwicke drew them forth, and, seating himself by the table, began deliberately to read tbe contents.

When be bad finished, Slider was still asleep, and he quietly put them into tus pocket—not into Sliders pocket, but his own.

He perused them as though uncertain whether or not be should disturb tbe sleeper. iJpou second thoughts, be determined he would not. He therefore very cautiously opened tbe room door, and cr*pt up tc his bedroom, tbe door of which be locked and bolted with more tban his usual care.

Before be went to bed, be looked beneath tbe pillow, and found a small note, folded into a shape whiob was moat wonderfully Ingenious snd elabo rate.

This note contained a poor little, simple village girl's heart, for all was written in very bad grammar, and most shamefully spelt.

Mr. Percy Hardwicke yawned as he read It, and yawned afterward! He did not kis« it, as she would have kissed the letter be bad condescended to write her.

He burnt it in the candle and went to bed. 'I should run away with her to-tnor* row,' said Hardwicke, 'if I had not an appointment with tbe other one. I wonder which i* best. I can not run away with both, I suppose. How awfully sleepy I am!'

And so he went to bed, and to sleep, and smiled as sweetly and as innocently in bis dreams as though be had been an angel.

The rain fell heavily throughout tbe day which succeeded that upon which the event occurred tbat we describedabove—along, dull, Inactive day was It, in which, nevertheless, there waa so me movement of very deep import to several of the characters moving in thi* story.

Throughout tbe lengthy hours composing the morning and afternoon that Percy Hardwicke dreamed away in listless indolence in the parlor of the little inn, Jabez Rourke's ugly face might have been aeen peeping out at intervals from the tap room, window, round the door posts, into the Inner passage*, peering from the akittle ground, flattening his nose against tbe window glass*

Peeping and prying, peering and spying, in all tbe boles ana corners, the two objects of his espionage being ever the same—tbe handaome, ami I ing gentleman and pretty Phoebe, the belle of the village. •s twilight gathered around the little village the rain ceased, and Percy Hardwicke arose and strolled leisurely out to the door to take an observation of tbe weather.

Whilst thus employed hi* eye fell on the village blacksmith. 'Oo.ne here, my friend, aaid he, in a patronising tone and Jabez approached in hi* usual ahambling, clumsy fashion. 'What a monater it is' said Hardwicke admiringly. 'Come here, I want to speak to you.' •What can I do for you, air?' aaked the blackamltb. *1 am going to entrust yon with an extremely delicate office, my-dirty faced friend,'said Hardwicke.

appointed uttlsvnxe

7You

shall as-

aist me in an elopement. Let aa take a walk and talk over the busin«s* quietj-»

They walked up tbe village street, Percy Hardwicke amiling aa he talked. Tbe blacksmith^ Ace waa averted, but wove a deeply attentive expression. When tbey parted this gave way to one of aavage, vindictive bate, which waa horrible to look npon, and, aa Jabez Rourke strode forward toward his forge, tbe children he met in his path crept timidly away, avoiding him aa tbey won Id a wild beast.

Throughout tbe day Edward Jerrold remained at home, the inclemency of tbe weather forbidding any excursion to

H^Jkovdnw near be fait not a vaxed to think that it had cleared snflMently to allow of bia making

U£(abad1Sesn

asked Hard

wicke. 'Ever so long ago. sir.' •Is he gone to bedr •Xo, Ar, he's sitting up though bow he can keen awake to this hour cape me! Shall I give yon your candle, now, slit*

so oomfortable at home,

and Eleanor had been so much like her old self, though at timea ahe appeared to be aomewhat thoughtful and absent, but this he attributed to ber bad state or health.

Tbey bad settled npon starting tbe a«xt day, and bad already made aunoat all such arrangemante as were necessary. Some few things yet remained to be dene, and Jerrold promised not to remain away long. •How long will yon b*T aaked E*eanor

carelessly. 'Not more than an hour.' 'That ia too hnrried a viait. Come, I ahall give yon two hours. Will tbat suffice?' 'I shall be back long before Ita expiration.' 'Oh, no bnt you must not do that. Thore is no occssion. to hurry in the least.'

Sbe seemed to be very anxloua upon this ooint, he-fancied, when be came to think the matter over afterward.

At tbe time, however, be paid no particular attention to tbe circumatance. •Good by,' he said laughingly, and lclsssd ber 'Good by,' sbe anawered him, with a smile.

And thus it wss tbey parted, little dreaming what horrible eventa would arise to separate them In one short hour.

Edward Jerrold strode rapidly along at a pace which would aoon have brought him to the end of his journey, had not an event occurred which brought bim to a sudden stand still, and eventually altered tbe whole course of his future life.

It was a trlvi *1 circumstance—no more tban tbe going out of bis cigar. The Captain was beut upon a smoke, and felt in bis pocket for a fusee witb which to reignlte his choice Havana. Unluckily, no fusee oould be find, and after along search, be could discover nothing more likely to answer his purpose than a solitary ludfer match, which lay neglected at the bottom of one of his pockets.

There was a good deal of wind, and to light his cigar would be a matter of no little difficulty. Ho saw a spot, however, at a few yards' distance, where a clump of trees would afford him the necessary shelter.

From this spot he could command a view of bis bouse, and tbe moon was shining so brightly thst he could see tbe -garden gate and the road before it almost as plainly as though it had been day.

As he looked toward It, the gate suddenly opened, and the figure of his wife came fortb, and began to ascend the hill

fror a moment he stared at it in blank astonishment, scarcely even crediting liis senses.

But there could be no mistake. Whither WMS

she bound?

What new mystery was this? At any risk be at once determined to unravel

A prey to many conflicting emotions, he immediately followed rapidly in pursuit.

He accordingly hurried on. for she bad already disappeared from Bight. He supposed, however, that she must be going to follow the path, aud he cut across tbe fields to meeth-r at a certain point.

He jumped the fences which stood in his way, and scrambled through the hedges nntil he came to one that was verv high and thick.

Upon the opposite side of this hedge lay tbe common path, and here he beard two voices, one of which he reoognized as his wife's.

He could not hear what she said, but he could hear a man's voice, pleading passionately, and be had no difficulty in recognizing ai once the voice of Peroy Hardwicke.

With an exclamation rage he ran forward, thinking to force his way

In this attempt, however, he failed, and, missing his foot, fell heavily to the ground, stunning himself by tbe fall.

When he came to himself ne was alone the spot was deserted, and he staggered to bia feet and made bis way toward bia houise.

But about a dozen yarda from the place where he had fallen something lay atretched across the path.

He trembled violeutly as heapproaohed, scarcely daring to think. It waa tbe body of a man. The moon shone full upon his face. It was Percy a to

He was quite dead. It did not require the dagger wound upon bis breast to tell tbat, for the eyes were fixed and glazed.

Tbe wretched husband raised no cry, bnt staggered onward down the hill. Tbe servant met him at tbe door, to say tbat a messenger was waiting for bim—a special messenger from tbe owners of his ship.

Concealing hi* agitation, he prepared himself for the Interview. The man had come to say that tbe Captain'a presence was required immediately in London. 'I have a chaise at the door.' said the man. 'How long will yon be?' 'Not a moment,' replied the Captain. VTben be rang tbe bell for the servant. 'Where la your mistress?' he asked. 'She wss sent for, air, by a person named Martha.' •When ahe returns giye her this letter.'

Then taking apiece of paper, be wrote upon It: •I know all. God forgive you! ,, 1. .*

The night mail bore bim away upon his journey—never to return. The next day be waa at aea, having taken the placa of another Captain at the last mQDtnt.

In tbe meanwhile tbe body of the murdered man was found in tbe fields, and a hue and cry was raised, but no light was thrown upon tbe perpetrator.

Upon tbe night the corpse waa discovered, the fire at the amftby burnt very brightly.

Inside Jabez Rourke crouched over the flame, busily burningjthe evidences of his crime.

A month afterward, and Eleanor bad fled from the village, leaving no trace of her flight.

When abe wa* wandering, penniless and bomeiesa, in London streets, Edward

Jerrold, one night at sea, chanced to find in bia coat pocket a wont and crumpled letter, for the possession of which/at first, be conld not possibly aocount.

Preaently, bowevsr, be recollected that It wa* one he bad picked up from tbe floor tbe first nigbt of bis return home.

He opened it and read: -:.i DHAX ELKAKOK: I know I have bean a drag npon yon aa it is, ami a disgrace upon all that are connected with me. But what am I to do? I have no means of earning an honest livelihood. Who am I to look to, if it la not 700, who are my own slater? Yon *ay yon have helped me all yon can, but 1 hope you trill make an sflbrt to give ma aomething to aet me up. What makes you penut in keeping my existence a secret from ycur husband I cannot think. I am sot* be would forgive you for having deceived bim, though I am a returned convict. Bealdee, when you married bim, there waa plenty of excuse for your not telling him such an ugly piece of flunily history, as your, having a brother wbo had been transported for forgery. Luckily be ia at aea now, and aamioc be expected back, ao if yon can get me the money I can clear oat before Ee cemes.

This letter bore no signature, but Jerrold sadly understood that it had been written by tbe man calling himself 8U-

For a moment be sat with his face buried in bia bands, sobbing convulsively. •Poor Eleanor!' be cried at last: 'why did you not tell me all? And was this all the mystery?'

But then a horrid thonght occurred to bim. Had Percy Hardwicke become possessed of the secret, and threatened betrayal, and had abe alain him?

Oh, if he were only on shore to clear up what was now so dark and dreadful to reflect upon!

But a dreary waste of water lay betwixt bim and his discarded wife. [TO BK CONTINUKD.]

Golden Words,

Respect is to the parson beloved what tbe enchasing is to the gem it shows the value set upon it.

We suffer more from anger and grief, than for the very things for which we anger and grieve.

Good habita are a necklace of pearls untie the knot, and the whole unthreads.—[Russian Proverb.

Artistic excellence however expressed by genuine taste or the gift of heaven, may be acquired.—[Reynolds.

Builders of character, as well as builders of houses should put conscience into every stone which they lay.—[Lee.

Grapple ever with opportunity. Aud as you don't know when opportunity will come siong, keep your grapplingirons always ready.

Never seek to be intrusted with your friend's secret for no matter how faithfUUv you may keep it, you will be

liar-

ble In a thousand contingenolee to the suspicion of having betrayed It. We can see the "bow in the cloud" only when standing with our back to the aun, and if we would have our discouraged hearts filled with manly courage w'e must boldly faoe the storm clouds of life.r i"

Thetalker must be/of heeessity, tbe smallest of human souls. His soul must dwindle, dwindle, dwindle, for he utters great feelings in words, instead of acts, and so satiates his need of utterance, the need of all.

Avoid the companion who jests at everything. Such people dispsrage by some ludicrous association, ail objects which are presented to tbeir thoughts, and thereby render tbemseives inoapable of any emotion which can either elevate or soften them. They bring upon the moral being an influence more withering tban the blasts of tbe desert.

The brave and inspiring life of ane man, lights aflame in the minds of others, ana where there is equally vigorous effort, like distinction and success will almost surely follow t.nd thus a chain of example is carried down through time in an endless succession of links—admiration exciting admiration, and perpetuating the true aristocracy of genius.

Selfishness poverty It is tbe most uttter destitution of a numan being. It can bring nothing to bia relief it adds soreness to his sorrows it sharpens his

Kins,

it aggravates all tbe losses he is ble to endnre, and when goaded to extremes, often turn* destroyer, and strikes its last blows on himself. It gives us nothing to rest in or fly to in trouble it turns our affections on ourselves, self on self, as the sap of a tree descending out ot season from Its heavenward branches, and making not only its life useless, but its growth downwards. "Do men gather grapes of thorns or figs of thistles," tbe master asks. There is quite a general impression tbat grapes do grow on thorn bushes, and fin and thistles, and also than tborn berries are found on grape vines and thistle bio soms on fig trees. Klse how does it hsppen tbat men with some defect in their theological notions, but wnose lives are full of the fruit of love to God and man, are reckoned as thorns and thistles to

be burned in fire unquenchable, while those sound in theological' belief, but bad in life, are reokonea as grape vinea and fig trees, which, when taken up here are sure to be transplanted on the banks of the river of life? There must be some mistake, for tbe master says, "By their fruit ye shall know them."—[Rev. E. Frank Howe.

Amos Fish, of Albany, who at bis death, left $50,000 to charitable institutions, snd to his wife one dollar a day, is reported to have said: "I buy a shank of meat from tbe butcher. Whloh ooata me ten cents. My wife make* enough soup from this to do us one meal, then the meat cut from it afterward makes two more tuealn, or one day'a food for ten oents. 1 split tbe bene and getthe marrow tor oooltlng purpoaee, and my wife finds sufficient fuel in the bone itself to de considerable cooking. Then in an iron box I save tbe aahes, which I use for manufacturing a few plante tbat realize for me six centeeach." It appears tbat Amos waa never a striker and tbat he wa* good to hi* tenant*.

Bagnall, of the Turners Fall* Reporter, be* the true idea of bow to run a newspaper, as witness tbe following from a recent issue of that spicy paper. "We believe it to be tbe duty of a newspaper to tell when a poor man'a ben lays a big agg as quickly aa though tbe fowl was owned by a bloated bondholder, and when a poor man has done anything for the good of mankind, he ia as deaervlng of honorable mention as though tbe deed was performed by tbe president of the UnitedStatee.

HBADACHS.—The symptom* of this very general complaint are already too well known io require any deecription. According to tbe science of medical men, headache arises either from a sympathy with tbe stomach and chylopoeuc viscera, or from a weaknem or exbauation of toe power of tbe encephalon. Tbe one may be called sympathetic and tbe other nervous headache. All that is neceasary In tbe treatment ia to restore a healthy action to the stomach. It would be well first to take an emetic, follow thia by the daily use of Roback's Bitten, and keep tbe bowela regular do not allow them to become constipated. Take +n»«n doaes of the Blood Pills frequently.

For sale by J. J. BAUB. WATXB'S EPKKKVJCSCIKO CKAB ORCHABD SALTS.

itf

ft.

A Saline Aperient, pos

sessing, in a highly concentrated form, the medicinal properties of the Crab Orchard Springs of Kentucky, For tbe treatment of Costivenesa ana Derangement, of the Liver, tbe Effervescing Crab Orchard Salte aea excellent, either in moderate doaea or aa an alterative.

For sale by J. J. BADR. 8xrra'a AOUK Sets CUBR—For tbe cure of Ague or Chills and Fever. Aa a remedy for Ague no medicine stands higher, it is prompt, certain and safe* Price only 50 cents.

For sale by J. J, BAUR.

4"-

—Rheumatism, Neuralgia. lbtim'Wgo, Sciatica, Rheumatic Gout. Nervous actf* Kidney Diseases positively cured by Dr. Fitter's Rheumatic Remedy—a Physid*na specialty 42 years, never foils when taken aa directed. P. M. Donnelly, •gwit. mar7-ly