Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 9, Number 17, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 26 October 1878 — Page 6
'WT£s.--i
THE MAIL
ispi' T-fe
A PAPER
FOR THE
PEOPLE.
THE IVA Of TJtJS WORLD.
MAN.
if he wears a good coat, iitfl him up, lift bira up) Thougu he be but a bln«t,
Lift him up.
If he has not common nense, Aud can boaal a lew pence, IJ ft him up.
Though his face shows no »hame, Lin hlui up, lift htm up *v Though crime it his name,
Lift him up.
Though their disgrace be hi« sport, Let your daughters blm court— Lift him up.
VoXAJf. '1
If a woman once errs, lck her down, kick her down If misfortune be hers.
Kick her down.
Thongh her tears fall like rain, Kick her down.
If a man breaks her heart. Kick her down, kick her down Redouble the smart—
Kick her down.
And if in low condition, On, on to perditionKick her down.
The Haunted Hotel
OR,
A Mystery of Modern Venice.
BY WIITKIK COLLINS.
IV The Haunted Hotel," Wilkie Collins's 1 out and best story, was commenced in The
Mail, August 24, 1878—Vol. 9, No. 9. Back numbers, five cents each, can be had at The MaU'Office, or of news agents in this city and neighboring towns.]
CHAPTEB XX.
'Shall I see yon again?' she asked, as she held out ber band to take leave. 'It is quite understood between us, I suppose, about the play?'
Francis recalled his extraordinary experience of that evening in the renumber room. 'My stay in Venice is uncertain,' hereplied. 'If you have anything more to say about this dramatic venture of vours it in ay be as well to say it ifetf. Have you deotded on a subject already? I know the public taste in England better than you d(*—I might save you some wAftte of time and trouble, if you have not chosen your subject wisely?'
4I
don't care what subject I write about so long as I write,' sbe answered, •carelessly. 'If you have got a subject in 3our head give it to me. I answer for the characters ana the dialogue.' 'You answer for the characters and the dialogue,' Francis repeated. 'That's a bold way of speaking for a beginner! I wonder if I should shake your sublime confidence in yourself if I suggested the most ticklish subject to handle which is known to the stage? What do you say, Countess, to entering the lists with Shakespeare, and trying a drama with a ghost iu it A true story, mind! founded on ovents in this very city in which you and I are interested.'
She caught him by the arn a&d drew him awAy from the crowded colonnade into—tbe aolltary middle space of the squarg. 'Now te]i me?' she said eagerly. 'I^ere, where nobody is near us. How •am I interested in it? How? how?'
Still holding his arm, Bbe shook him in, her impatience to hear the coming disclosure. For a moment he hesitated. Thus far, amused by her ignorant belief ia hereelf, he had merely spoken merely in jest. Now, for the first time impressed by her irresistible earnestness, lie began to consider what he was about from
A
more serious point of view. With her knowledge of ail that had passed in the old palace, before its transformation into an fcotel, it was surely possible that nhe migl.i suggest some explanation of what had happened to his brother and sister, and himself. Or, failing to do this, she might accidentally reveal some event iu her own experience which, acting as a hint to a competent dramatist, might prove to be the making of a play. The prosperity of his theatre was the one serious object of bis life. 'I may be on the trace of another "CorHican Brothers,"' he thought. 'A now pteco of that sort would be .£10,000 in my pocket, at least.'
With these motives (worthy of the strong devotion to dramatic business which made Francis a successful manager) lie related, without further hesitation, what his own experience has been, and what the experience of his relatives bad been, in the haunted hstel. He even described the outbreak of supersti--tiOus terror which had escaped Mrs.
Norbury's ignorant maid. 'Sad stuff if you look a»it reasonably,' he remarked. 'Butthero is something dramatic in the notion of the ghostly inliuence making itself felt by the relations in succession, a* they one after another enter the fatal room—until the one ohoaen relative coines who will seethe unearthly creature and know the terri4)1* truth. Material for a play, Oountesa, timrate material for a play !r
There he paused. She neither moved nor spoke. lie stooped and looked at ber closely.
What impression bad lie produced? It was an impression which his utmost intfeOuity had foiled to anticipate. She wtood by bis side—jnst as sbe stood before Agoea when her question about Ferrari wa«t plainly answered at last— like a woman turn»l to stone. Her wyes were vacant and rigid all the life in- her face had faded out of it. Francis took her by the hand. Her hand was ool-i as tfcf*pavement they were standing on. lie asked ber ir she was ill.
Not a muscle in ber moved. He might aa well have spoken to the dead. 'Surely,' he said, 'you are not foolish euaough to take what I have been telling you, aeriouslj?'
Her lips moved slowly. As it seemed she was making an effort to speak to him. •Loader,' be said *1 can't Bear yob.*
She struggled to recover possession of herself, A faint light be^an to soften the dull, cold sure of her eyes. In mment more she spoke so that he could bear ber. 'I never thought of the other world,' nfce murmured, in low, dull tonee, like woman talking in ber sleep.
Her mind bad gone back so the day of bar last memorable Interview with Agnes she waa slowly recalling the confession that had escaped her, tbe warning words she had spoken at that past time.
Necessarily incapable of understanding this, Francis looked at ber ia perplexity. 8he went on in the same dull, v*»«at io»»#, steadily following her own train of thought, with ber heedless eyes on his face, and ber wandering mind far away from him. 'I said some trifling event wonld bring us together tho next time, wa* WKvog,
together.
ISBil
who told her what had become of Ferrari, if sbe forced me to it. Shall
I
feel
aomeother influence than her? Will he force meto it? When 4A0 sees him,shall see him too?'
Her head aank a little her heavy eye* lids dropped slowly ahe heaved a long, low, weary sigh. Francis pot her arm in his, and made an attempt to rouse her. 'Come, Counteas, you are weary and overwrought. We uavu had enoagb talking for to-night. Let me see you safe back to your hotel. Is it far from here?'
She started when he moved and obliged ber to move with him, aa if be had suddenly awakened ber out of a deep sleep. 'Not far,' she said, faintly, 'The old hotel on tbe quay. My mind's in a strange state 1 have forgotten the name.' 'Danieirs?' smWf ,i •Yea!'
He led ber on slowly. She accompanied him in silence aa far as tbe end of the Pl8z°tta. There, when tbe full view ofthemooulit Lagoon revealed itself, she stopped him aa he turned towards the RivaDegli Sehiavoni. 'I have something to ask you. I want to wait and think.'
She reoovered her lost idea, after a long pause. 'Are you going to sleep in the room to night?' sbe asked.
He told ber that another traveler was in possession of tbe room that night. 'But the manager baa reserved it for me to-morrow,' he added, 'if I wish to have it.' 'No,' she said 'you must give it up.' •To whom?' •To me.'
He started. 'After what I have told you, do you really wish to sleep in that room to-morrow uight?' '1 mnxt sleep in it.' •Are you not afraid 'I am horribly afraid.' 'So I should have thought after what I have observed iu you to night. Why should you take the room? You are not obliged to occupy it unless you like.' 'I was not obliged to
Francis went back to bis own hotel, wondering what tbe events of tbe next day would bring forth. A new turn in his affairs had taken place during his absence, As be crossed tbe ball be was requested by one of the seryants to walk into the private office. The manager was waiting there with a gravely pre occupied manner, as if he had something serious to say. He regretted to bear that Mr. Francis Westwick bad, like other members of the family, discovored mysterious sources of diticom fort in tbe new hotel. He bad been informed, in strict confidence, of Mr. Westwick's extraordinary objection to the atmosphereof the bedroom up stairs Without presuming to discuss the matter, he mt^st beg to be excused from re serving tbe room for Mr. Westwick after what bad happened.
Francis answered sharply, a little ruffled by tho tone in which the manager bad spoken to him. 'I might, very possibly, have declined to sleep in the room if you bad reserved it,' he said. 'Do you 'wish me to leave tbe hotel
Tbe manager saw tbe error that be had committed, and hastened to repair it. •Certainly not, sir! We will do our best to make you comfortable while you stay with us. 1 beg your pardon if have said anything to offend you. Tbe reputation of au establishment like this is a matter of very serious Importance. May I hope that you will do us the great favor to say nothing about what has happened upstairs? The two French gentlemen have kindly promised)to keep it a secret"
This apology left Francis no alternative but to grant tbe manager's request. •There is an end to tbe Countess's wild scheme,' be thought to himself aa he re tired for the night. 'So much tbe better for tbe Countess!'
He rose late tbe next morning. In quiring for bis Parisian friends, he was informed that both the French gentle men had left for Milan. As be crossed tbe bail, on bis way to tbe restaurant, he noticed the head porter chalking the numbers of the rooms on some articles of luggage which were waiting to go up stairs. One trunk attracted bis at ten tion by tbe extraordinary number of old traveling labels left on it.
4I
RO
to Venice,
when I left America,' she answered 'And yet I came here. I must take the room and keep the room, until' She broke off at those words. 'Never mind the rest,' sbe said. 'It doesn't interest you
It was useless to disp Francis changed the subject. 'We can do nothing to-night,' be said. •I will call on you to-morrow morning, and hear what you think of it then.'
They moved on again to the hotel. As they approached the door, Francis asked if she was staying in Venice under her own name.
She shook ber bead. 'As your brother's widow, I am kqown here. As Countess Narona, I am known hero want to be unknown, this time, to strangers in Venice I am traveling under a common English name.' She hesitated, and stood still. 'What has come to me? she muttered to herself. 'Some things I remember, and some I forget. I forgot Danieli's—and now I forget my English name.'
She drew tim hurriedly into the hall of tbe hotel, on the ws.U of which bung a list of visitors' names. Running her finger slowly down tbe list, she pointed to the English name
a
that she had as-
snmed—'Mrs. James.'* 'Remember that when you call tomorrow,' she said. 'My head is heavy, Good-night.'
TAB
porter was marking it at tbe moment and tbe number was, "13 A."' Francis instantly looked at the card fastened on tbe lid. It bore the oommoo English name, 'Mrs. James!' He at once Inquired about tbelady. She bad arrivod early tbat morning, and she was then in tbe reading room. Looking into tbe room he discovered a lady in it alone. Adrarleing a little nearer, he found himself faoe to face with the Countess Narona.
She was seated in a dark comer with her head down and her arms crossed over her bosom.
Yes,' she said in a tone cf weary imtienne, before Francis could speak to I thought it beat not to wait for you—I determined to get here before anvbody eiw c»«uld take the room.* •Haveyou taken It t«»r Jong?'Francis aakeiL 'You told me Miss Lock wood would be here in a week's time. I hare taken it for a week.' 'What has Miss Lock wood to do with
patie her.
ur
"She has everythsng to do with it—she must sleep in the room. I shall give the room np Co ber when sBe come here.'
Francis began to understand tbe superstitious purpose that she had in view. •Are y«m, educated
woman, really of
tbe same opinion as my sister's maid!' he exclaimed. 'Assuming your absurh superstition to bo a serious thing, you are taking tbe wrong mean* to prove it true. If I and my brother ana steter
No trifling event will bring u# have seen nothing, bow should Agnes I said I might be the person Lock wood discover what was not re
suss
m::
TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.
vealed to us? Sbe ia only distantly related to tbe Moutbarrys—ahe la only our
'She waa nearer to the heart of the Montbarry who is dead than any of you,' tbe Counters answered, sternly. •To tbe last day of my life my miserable husband repented hia desertion of ber, Sbe will aee what none of you have seen —she shall have tbe room.1
Francis listeuod, utterly at a loss to account for the motives that animated her.
don't aee what interest you have in trying tbia extraordinary experiment,' be said. •It la my interest not try to it! It Is my interest to fly from Venioe and never set ej'ea on Agnea Lock wood or any of your family again!' 'What prevents you from doing tbat?
Sbe atarted to her feet aud looked at him wildly. •I know no more what prevents me than you do]' ahe burst out. 'Some will that la stronger than mine drives me oa to my destruction in spite of myself!'
She suddenly Bat down again, and waved her hand for him to go. 'Leave me,' ahe aald. 'Leave me to my thoughts.'
Francla leit her, firmly persuaded by this time that she was out of her senses. For the rest of the day he saw nothing of her. The night, solar as be knew, passed quietly.
The next morning he breakfasted early, determining to wait in the restaurant for the appearance of tbe Countess. She came in and ordered her breakfast quietly, looking dull and worn and self absorbed, as sbe bad looked when he last saw ber. He hastened to her table, aud asked if anything had happened in the night. ,, v* 'Nothing,' sho answered. /:V 'You have rested as well as usual •Quite as well as usual. Have you had any letters this morning?. Have you beard when sbe is coming?' 'I have bad no letters. Are you really going to stay here? Has your experience of last nlgbt not altered tbe opinion which you expressed to me yesterday?' 'Not in the least,'
1
The momentary gleam of animation which had crossed ber face when she questioned him about Agnes died out of it again when lie answered ber. She looked, she spoke, she ate her breakfast with a vacant resignation, like a woman who bad done with hopes, done with Interests, done with everything but the mechanical movements and instincts of life.
Francis went out on the Customary traveler's pilgrimage to .the shrines of Titian ana Tiutoret. After some hours of absence he found a letter waiting for him when be got back to tbe hotel. It was written by his brother Henry, and it reoommended him to return to Milan immediately. Tbe proprietor of a French theatre, recently arrived from Venice, was trying to induce the famous dancer whom Francis bad engaged, to break faith with him and accept a higher salary.
Having made thia startling announcement, Henry proceeded to inform his brother that Lord and Lady Montbarry. with Agnes and the children, would arrive in Venice in three, days more. 'They know nothing of our adventures at tbe hotel,' Henry wrote 'and they have telegraphed to the manager for tbe accommodation that they want. There would be something absurdly superstitious in our fiving3t1foj£f& warning which, would frigh top, ,t If dies ana ohildreu out of the best hotel in Venice. We shall be astrong party this time—too strong a barty for gboscet I shall meet tbe travellers on their arrival of course, and try my luck again at what you call tbe haunted hotel. Arthur Barville and his wife have already got as far on their way as Trent and .two of the lady's relations have arranged to .accompany them on the journey to Venice.'
Naturally indignant at the oonduct of his Parisian colleague, Francis made bis preparations for returning to Milan by tbe train of that day.
On his way out lie asked the.manager if bis brother's telegram had been reoeived. The telegram bad arrived, and, to the surprise of Francis, the rooms were already reserved. •I thought you would refuse to let any more of the family into tbe bouse,' be said satirically.
Tbe manager answered (with the due dash of respect) in tbe same tone. "No. 13 A" is safe, Bir, the occupation of a stranger. I am the servant of the company and I dare not turn money out of the hotel.'
Hearing this Francis said good-by— and said nothing more. He was heartily ashamed to acknowledge it to himself, but he felt an irresistible curiosity to know what would happen when Agnes arrived at tbe hotel. Besides, 'Mrs. James' bad reposed confidence in him. He got into his gondola, respecting the confidence of'Mrs. James.'
Towards evening on the third day Lord Montbarry and his traveling companions arrived, punctual to their appointment. •Mrs. James,' sitting at tbe window of ber room watching for them, saw the new lord land from tbe gonaala first. He banded his wife from the steps. Tbe three children were next committed to bis care. Last of all, Agnes appeared in the little black doorway of tbe gondolacabin and, taking Lord Montbarry's hand, pasted in her turn to tbe steps. 8he wore no veil. As sbe ascended to tbe door of the hotel, the Countess (eyeing ber through an opera glass) noticed that elie paused to look at the outside of the building, and tbat hee face was very pale.
CHAPTER XYI.
Lord and Lady Montbarry were received by tho housekeeper, the manager being at went for a day or two on business connected wiih tbe affairs of tbe hotel.
Tbe rooms reserved for tbe travelers on the first floor were three in number, consisting or two bedrooms, opening into each other, and oommunloating on the led with a drawing room. Oom-
Ce
lete so far, the arrangements proved to leas satisfactory in reference to tbe third bedroom, required for Agnes and for the eldest daughter of Lord Montbarry, who usually slept with ber on their travels. Tbe bedroom on tbe right of the drawing room was alraady occupied by an English widow lady. Other bedchambers at tbe other end of the corri dor were also let. in every case. There was accordingly no alternative but to place at the disposal or Agnes a comfortable room on the seoond floor. Ladv Montbarry vainly complained of this separation of one of the members of ber traveling party from tbe rest. The housekeeper politely hinted that it was impossible for ber to ask other travelers to give up their rooms. She oould only express her regret, and assure Miss Lockwood that her bedchamber on the second floor waa one of tbe best rooms in that part of tbe hotel.
On the retirement of tbe housekeeper, Lady Montbarry aotloed that Agnes bad seated beraeff apart, feeling apparently no interest in tbe question of the bedrooms. Waa she ill? No she felt a little unnerved by tbe railway journey, and that was all. Hearing this, Lord Montbarry proposed tbat ahe should go
out with him and try the experiment of half an hour's walk in the oool evening air. Agnes gladly accepted tbe invitation. They directed their st&pa toward the square of St. Mark, ao aa toenjoy the brefgj blowing over tbe lagoon. It waa Agnes' first visit to Yenica. The fascination of the wonderful city of tbe waters exerted Ha influence over her sensitive nature.
Tbe proposed half hour of the walk had passed away, and waa fast expanding to half au hour more befere Lord Montbarry could persuade his companion to remember that dinner was waiting for them, Aa tbey returned, passing under the colonnado, neither of them noticed a lady In deep mourning loitering in the open space of the square. She started as tsbe recognised Agnes walking with tbe ne^v Lord Montbarry. hesitated for a moment, and then followed them, at a rather discreet'distance, to tbe hotel.
Lady Montbarry received Agnes in high splrita with newt* of an event which bad happened in ber aoaenoe.
Sbe had not left the hotel more than ten minutea beiorn a little note in pencil was brought to Lidy Montbarry by the housekeeper. The writer proved to be no less a person than tbe widow lady who occupied the room on tbe other side of the drawing room, which her ladyship bad vainly hojxvi to secure for Agnes.
Writing under the name of Mrs. James, the polite widow explained that she had heard from tbe housekeeper of the disappointment experienced by Lady Montuarry in the matter of tbe rooms. Mrs. James was quite alone, and as long aa her bedchamber was airy and comfortable it mattered nothing to her whether sbe slept on tbe first or the second floor of tbe house. Sbe had accordingly much pleasure in proposing to change rooms with Miss Lock wood. Her luggage bad already been removed and Miss Lock wood had only to take possession of tbe room (Number 13 A), which was now entirely at her disposal. '1 immediately proposed to see Mrs. James,' Lady Montbarry continued, 'and to thank her personally for her extreme kindness. But I was informed that
Bbe
bad gone out, without leaving
word at what hour sbe might be expect ed to return. I have written a little note of thanks, Baying tbat we hope to have the pleasure of personally expressing our sense of Mrs. James' courtesy tomorrow. In the meantime, Agnes, I have ordered you? boxes to be removed down stairs. Go! and judge for yourself, my dear, if that good lady has not given up to you tbe prettiest room in the house.'
With these words Lady Montbarry left Miss Lockwood to make a hasty toilet for dinner.
The new room at once produced a favorable impression on Agnes. The large window, openiug into a balcony commanded an admirable view of the canal. The decorations on tbe walls and ceilings were skillfully copied from tbe exquisitely graceful designs of Raphael in the Vatican. Tbe massive wardrobe possessed compartments of unusual sizi, in which double the number of dresses tbat Agnes possessed might have hung at full length. In the inner corner of the room, near the head of tbe bedstead, there was a recess which had been turn ed into a little dressing room, and which opened by .a seoond door on the inferior stairqase of the hotel, commonly used by th^ servants. Noticing these aspects of 'the room at a glance, Agnes made tbe necebB&ry 6hange in her dress as quickly ao possible. On. her way back to tbe drawing room sbe was addressed by a chambermaid in the corridor, who asked for ber key.. 'I will put your room tidy for the digbt, miss,' the woman said, 'and I
NVill then bring tbe key ba?k to you in the drawing room.' While tbe chambermaid was at ber Work a solitary lady, .loitering about tbe corridor of the second story, was watching her over tbe balusters. After awhile tbe maid appeared with ber pail in her hand, leaving the room by way of the back stairs. As she passed out of sight the ladv on tbe second floor (no other, it is needless to add, than the Countess herself) ran swiftly down tbe stairs, entered the bed chamber by tbe principal lpty side compartment of the wardrobe. The
door, and hid herself in the em
chambermaid returned, finished her work, locked the door of the dressing room on tbe inner side, locked tbe principal entrance door on leaving the room, and returned the key to Agnes in the drawing room.
Tbe travelers were just sitting down to their late dinner when one of the children noticed that Agnes was not wearing ber watch. Had she left it in her bed chamber in the hurry of changing her dross? She aroae from the table at once and went in search of her watch £,ady Montbarry advising her as she went out to see to the security of her bed chamber in the event of there being thieves in the bouse. Agnes found her watch, forgotten on tbe toilet table, as she ha!a anticipated. Before leaving tbe room again she acted on Lady Montbarry's advice, and tried tbe key in the lock of tbe dressing .room door. It was properly secured. She left tbe bed chamber, locking the n^iin door behind her.
Immediately on ber departure, tho Countess, oppressed by the confined air in tbe wardrobe, veutured on stepping out of her hiding place into tbe empty room.
Entering tbe dressing room, she listened at the door uutil the silence outside informed her tbat the corridor waa empty. Upon this sbe locked tbe aoor and, passing out, closed It sgain softly, leaving it, to all appearance, (when viewed on the inner Bide) as carefully secured aa Agnes bad Been it when sbe tried the key In the lock with her own band.
While the Montbarrya were still at dinner, Henrv Westwick joined them, arriving from Milan.
When be entered the room, and advanced to shake bands with ber, Agnes was conscious of a latent feeling which secretly reciprocated Henry's unconcealed pleasure on meeting her again. For a moment oaly she returned bis look and in tbat moment ber own observation told ber tbat sbe had silently encouraged i3im to hope. Sho saw It In the sudden glow of bappineds which overspread bis faoe and she confusedly took refuge in tbe nsusl conventional inquiries relating to the relatives whom be bad leit at Milan.
Takiog his place at the table, Henry gave a most amusing account pf the position of his brother Francis, between tbe mercenary opera danoer on one side, and tbe unscrupulous manager of tbe French theatre on the other. Matters had proceeded to such extremities tbat tbe law had been called on to interfere, and bad decided tbe dispute in favor of Francis. On winning tbe victory, the English manager bad at once left Milan, recalled to London by tbe affairs of bis theatre. He was accompanied oil tbe Journey back, as be had been accompanied on the journey out, by hia slater. Resolved, alter pwming two nights of terror in the Venetian hotel, never to enter it again, Mrs. Korbury a*ked to lie excused from appearing at tbe family festival on tbe ground or ill health. At her age traveling fatigued ber, and ahe was glad to take advantage of her broth
er's esoort to return immediately to England. While the talk at the dinner table was flowing eaaily onward, the evening bad advanced into night, and it became neoesaary to think of sending tbe children to bed.
As Agnes rose to leave tbe room, accompanied by the eldest girl, sbe observed with surprise that Henry's manner suddenly cbinged. He looked serious and preoccupied, and when his niece wished bim good night he aaid to her, abruptly: 'Marian, I want to know what part ol the hotel you aleep in?'
Marian, puzzled by the question, answered that sho was going to sleep as ususl with 'Aunt Agnes.' Not satisfied with that reply, Henry next inquired whether tbe oedroom waa near tbe rooms occupied by tbe other members of tbe traveling party. Answering for the child and wondering what Henry's object oould poasibly be, Agnes mentioned tbe polite sacrifice made to ber convenience by Mrs. James. •Thanks to that iady'a kindness,'ahe said, 'Marian and I are only on tbe other aide of tbe drawing room.' Henry made no remark be looked incomprehensibly disconcerted aa be opened the door for Agnes and ber companion to pass out. After wishing them good night be waited in the corridor nntil be saw tbein enter tbe fatal corner room, and then he called abruptly to his brother, 'Come out, Stephen, and let ua smokt!'
As soon as the two brother's were at liberty to speak together privately Henry explained the motives which bad led to the strange inquiries abont the bedrooms. Francis bad informed blm of tbe meeting with tbe Countees at Venice and of all tbat bad followed it and Henry now carefully repeated the narrative to his brother in all its details. 'I am notaatiafied,' he added, 'about tbat woman's purpose in giving up her room. Without alarming the ladles by telling tbem what I have just told you, can you not warn Apnea to be careful in securiug ber door?' Lord Montbarry replied tbat already the warning bad already been given by his wife, and that ood ow. For the rest, be looked upon the wonderful story of tbe Cotfntess and ber superstitious as a piece of theatrical exaggeration, amusing enough in itself, but quite unworthy of a moment's serious atteution.
tvouj wwvu gtv vu MW n**V| W"**
Agnes might be truated to take go care of herself and her little bedfellc
While the gentlemen were absent from the hotel tbe room which bad been already associated with so many startling circumstances became the scene of another strange event in which Lady Montbarry's eldest child was concerned.
Little Marian bad been got ready for bed as usual, and had (so far) taken hardly any aotice of tbe new room. As she knelt down to say ber prayers sbe happened to look up at the ceiling above her, which was just over tbe bead of the bed. Tbe next instant she alarmed Agnes by starting to ber feet witb a cry ot terror, and pointing to a small brown spot on one of the white-panelled spaces of the carved ceiling. 'It's a spot ol blood!' tbe child exclaimed. 'Take me away! I won't sleep here!' 'Seeing plainly it would be useless to reason with ber while sbe was in tbe room, Agnes hurriedly wrapped M»ran in a dressing-gown and carried her ^.ick to ber mother t$ the. drawing ro- in. Here tbe ladies (^d jfeheir best to tf and reassurb the trembling girl. The effort proved to be useless the impression that had been prouueed on tbe young and sensitive mind was not to be removed by persuasion. Marian oould give no explanation of the panio of terror tbat had seized her. Sbe was. quite unable to say why the spot on the celling looked like tbe color ofatepOt-Of blood.- $}he only knew that she etoould die oj terror if she saw again,. UjKier, these circnmstanpbs bu^ one alternative, was left. It was arranged that the child should pass the night in the^ reload oeoupied by ber two younger Bisters and the nurse.
In half an hour more Marian waa peacefully asleep witb her arm around ber sister's neck. Lady Montbarry went back with Agnes to her room to see tbe spot on tbe ceiling which bad sostrangely frightened the child. It waa so small as to be only just perceptible, and it bad in all probability been caused by the carele88ness of a workman or by a dripping from water accidentally apilton the floor of the room above. •I really cannot understand why Marian should place such a terrible interrotation on such a trifling thing," Lady lontbarry remarked. •I suspect tbe nurse is in some way answerable for what has happened,'Agnes suggested. 'She may quite poaaibly have been telling Marian aome tra|' nursery story which has left its cbievous Impression behind It. Persons in her position are aadly ignorant of the danger of exciting achfld's imagination. You had bettor caution the nurse tomorrow.'
pr Mi
»gic nls-
Lady Montbarry looked around the room witb admiration. 'Is it not prettily decorated?' sbe said. 'I suppose, Agnes, you don't mind sleeping here by yourself?' 'Agues laughed. 'I feel so tired,' sbe replied, 'that I was thinking of bidding you good night instead of going back to tbe drawing-room.'
Lady Montborry turned towarda the door. 'I see your jewel-case on tbe table.' sbe resumed. 'Don't forget to lock tbe other door there, in the dress-iog-room.' •I have already seen to it, and tried the key mysolf,' said Agnes. 'Can 1 be of any use to you before I go to bed?' 'No, my dear, tbankyou I feel aleepy enough to follow your example. Good night, Agnes—and pleasant dreams on your first night in Venice.'
[TO
BB OOHTIRUKD.]
It is Worth a Trial.
"I was troubled for many years with Kidney Complaint, Gravel, Ac., my blood became thin I was dull and inactive oould hardly crawl about, and was an old worn out man all over, and could get nothing to help me, until I got Hop Btttera, and now I am a boy again. My blood and kidneys afo all right, and I am 8S active as a man or thirty, although I am seventy-two, and I have no doubt it will do as Well for others of my age. It is worth the trial.-"—(Father.)
1
Strongest Lamp,
POROUS PLASTERS BENSON'S CAPCINE
POROUS PIASTER
IS THjSBEST KIND.
This remarkable article contains all tbe valuable qualities of the Blow acting eommon porous plaster and in addition aa entirely new combination of active vegetable ingrtdienta from which it derives its wonderful pain relieving, strengUnaing, and caratlw properties. It relieves pain almost Immediate.}-, and cures where other plasters will not even relieve. The manufacturers of Bensou'a Capeine Porous Plasters were awardo-1 tbe highest and only medal of merit given for plasters at the Centennial 1870. Your family physician wili confirm our statement regarding iu great mei it, For Lame and Weak Back% Kidney Disease, Rheumatism, Stubborn and Neglected Colds, Lung and Chest Difflcul-
ties, tbe Lameness and Weakness peculiar to Women, Nervous Affectlona~of the Heart, Chills and Fever, Sciatica and Lumbago, Diseases of Children, such as Wbooplng Cough, Colds and Croup (when applied in its early stages), and all Local Aches aud Pains of Young or Old. It Is Simply tba Bat Item Id Ever il«ri»ed ur Known.
BENSON'S
Capcine Porous Plaster
There is no other remedy so well adapted for the above class of ailments. No other remedy contains the same combination of medical Ingredients. Benson's Capcine Porous Plaster is positively .far ^iperlor to common porous plasters, and to all other external remedies, Including liniments, and the so called electrical appliances. Its powerfulInfluence is felt at most nt the first moment of application. It gives relief, comfort, rengtn and life to the afflicted. It is neat and convenient, aUo pleasant to wear, as it creates men-ly a sensation of gentle and stimuiatls^ warmth.
CAUTION.
There are fraudnlentand worthless Imitations of Benson's Capcine Porous Pluster in the market. Ono in particular, having a similar sounding name, contains lead poisons. Each genuine Benson's Capcine Plaster has the word Capcine spelled C-A-P-C-I-N-K. Takenoother. SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS. PRICE25c.
THE FRIEND OF ALL!,
HOLLOWAY'S PILLS.
These fkmons Pills PURIFY the BLOOD, and act most powerfully, yet soothingly, on the LIVER, STOMACH, KIDNEYS and BOWELS, giving TONE, ENERGY and vigor to the whole system. They are won derfully efficacious in all ailments incidental to FEMALES, Young or Old, andasa general FAMILY MEDICINE, for the core of most complaints, they are unequalled.
IKPOBIAKTCAUTION.—Nunc
are genuine
unless the signature of J. HAYDuCK, as agentfor the utilted States, surrounds each box of Pills and Ointment. Boxos at 2$ cents, 62 cents and Ileaohr |r.j /tr/* i»i
SWThero is considerable saving by taking the lawrer shses. HOLLO WAY & CO., New York
A GHEE FOR ALL!!
Holloway's Ointment.
Pbssessed ot this REMEDY, Every Man r&ay be his own Doctor, It may be rubbed lito the systeop, so as to reach any internal cdmplalnt by these means, it cures Sores or Ulcers in the THROAT, STOMACH, LIVER, SIDE, or other parts. It Is an Infilllble Remedy for BAD LEGS, BAD BREASTS, Contracted or Stiff Joints GOUT, RHEUMATISM, and all Skin Diseases. iMPORTAXTCACTroN.—None are genuine unless the signature of J. HA.YDOUK, as agent fir the United States, surrounds each box Pills and Ointment. Boxes at 23 cent*. G'2 cents and Si each. dar-There is considerable saving by taking the lancnr sizes.
HOLLO WAY & CO., New York.
BOSS!
^'e iiave atarge and complete itock of
E N S LADIES', MISSES'and
CHILDREN'S.
Boots Shoes
ALt. THE
Most Desirable Styles
MADS-
0UR
PRICES ARE LOWER
Than they have ever been before
VERY MUCH LESS
Than the same grade of goods are sold fo elsewhere. GOODS THAT WE CAN
Recommend for Durability.
DANIEL REIB0LD
THE BEST LAMP IN THE^WORLD!
Most EconomicalI#tPP»
Safest Lamft
Cor. 3d an* Mala Ms.. SOO, TUBS HA Ur* llfD.
4
&
Moat Convenient Lamp,
Most Smokeless Jjimp,
Only Lamp tbat will bear any motion,
Only Lamp that will bear the air,
Only Real Hand Lamp.
v, *SL I
E..r4
THE ONLY SAFE LAMP!
At 933 ©Mo Street, Terre Hante
'-J' "V, j-t- 1 S4?f -0-
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