Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 12, Number 48, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 27 May 1882 — Page 2

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

TERRE HAUTE, MAY 27, 1882

THE RAINY DA Y.

BY HENRY W. LONGFELI/OW.

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary It rains, and the wind is never weary The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, Bat at every gust the dead leaves fall, day is

And the dark and dreary.

My life cold, and dark, apd drear}It rain*, and the wind is never weary, My thoughts Ktill cling to the mouldering

Pant,

But the hopes of youlh fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining Behind the ciouds is the sun still shining, Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall,

Borne day must be dark and dreary.

The Novelist.

Violet Towne.

A Story of Squatter Vengeance.

BY MORRIS REDWING. Author of "Blind Nell."

CHAPTER I.

THE MISSING BRIDE.

It was a night of storm and darkness. The heavens were illuminated by lurid flashes of lightning, the thunder rolled continuously along the vaulted skies, and the rain came down in torrents.

The casements rattled in the wind, while the roar of the frightful stortn could le heard as it surged through the forest.

A dismal night, truly. *paci this night Violet Towne was to wed Cool Gleason, the man of her father's choice.

A most inauspicious occasion for a wedding, yet on tl ad O

The woddingguests had arrived every thing was iu readiness and waiting for the coming of the bridegroom.

Tho large front room was brilliantly lighted, and decanters and glasses were scattered in wild disorder overthe round table in tho center of the room.

The guests, mostly rough squatters and their wives, had been engaged in something akin to a debauch—that is, the masculine portion—on this stormy wedding eve.

Brooke Towne was a man of convivial habits, and on all public occasions furnishou liquor in abundance.

This was doubtless one reason his house was so well tilled on this dismal September evening, since idle curiosity would hardly have drawn so ma»y of the settlors through the rain to witness a simplo marriage ceremony.

Broode Towno sat with his chair tipback against tho wall, smoking a ong pipe. lie was a tall, angular man, of five and forty, with a swarthy Spanish face and deep set, evil black eyes..

pod Ioni

Ho owned tho largest estato in that part of thn West and though loved by low, his money and convivial tastes lod many to seek tho hospitalities of his roof.

Violet Towno was an only child, scarce eighteen, with a lovely bloude faceand 1)1 ue eyes, in striking contrast to tho swarthy complexion of her father. "Wonder what keeps Gleason so late? said one of the squatters, as ho poured out a fiysli glass of brandy. •'He's only two milas to como." "Tho storm." suggostod ono.

Don't believe it," grunted tho first squattor "a man as is a man wouldn't lot a little rain keep him away from his girl on bin wodding night."

Just then a rap was hoard on the door plainly audible above the roaring of the storm.

Brooko Towne'schaircamodown with a thump. Rising to his feet, ho walked to tho door and opened it.

A gust of wind and rain caused the lights to Hare, as a tall man, clad in a heavy black clonk, entered tho room.

Tho strangor, for such ho evidently was, pausod and gazed in a liewildored wav about the room. 'lVwno stood waiting for tho stranger to snoak. "Is this the house of Brooke Towne?" he questioned, after a moment's survey of the room and tho assembled guests. "1 have the honor to bear that name," said the host, with the air of one woll satisfied with his position.

I was directed noro by a settler on tho Reservation," said tho stranger. "I would like shelter hero for tho night, if convenient, Mr. Towne. My name is Roberts. Having some business to transact in this region, I was informod that Brooko Towno would give me a little information on some points. The storm has delayed me somewhat." "You are welcome," said Towne, civilly. "You did net come on foot?" "From the Reservation, yes. I left a horse there." "Yon are wet and cold. Will you take something warming?" and tho host pointed toward the table. "Many thanks, but I crave nothing of that kind. My heavy cloak has quite shielded me from tho wet," returned the traveler, quickly, at the same time removing the garment montioned.

Roberts took the seat proffered bv the host, and was soon conversing freely with him. "We are having a little party to-night," said Towne, bv way of explanation, "in honor of my daughter's marriage." "Your daughter's marriage!" said Roberts, with a slight start. "Is Violet married, then f" "No but is to lie this night." "Ah! I had hardly imagined

Here the stranger came to a sudden stop, a frown mantling his brows. Tno keen black eyes of the host were bent suspiciously upou the handsome face of the youngstranger. "Proceed^ Mr. Roberts. What was it that "Nothing," returned Roberts, interrupting the speaker. "I bave heard of you and your family, and somehow I got the idea into my head that Miss Violet was but a child a mistake on my

fart

you set," and tho man laughed to Imacif. Brooke Towne possessed a suspicions nature. lie was not pleased with the anixwrnoe of the stranger, and suddenly ceased talking, and walked away by himself, puffing vigorously at his pipe.

Another drink was taken all around, the merry voices of the squatters growing louder every time the glasses were emptied.

Some of them had forgotten all about the occasion that had called them together, their brains utterly befogged by the liquor imbibed.

Brooke Towne was growing impatient. He pared the door with uneasv strides, puffiing at his long pipe savagely.

What kept Cool Oleason from the side of his betrothed wife, on this night of all others

Perhaps he had changed his mind about the marriage. This thought was what troubled the sordid mind of Brooke Towne, for, on the completion of the ceremony, he was to receive live thousand dollars from his son-in-law, who was one of the wealthiest men on the border.

The guests of the gentler sex were assembled in an adjoining room, when the marriage ceremony was to take place.

The bouse was large, containing four rooms on the ground floor and three above.

While Brooke Towne was pacing the room uneasily, biting his lip with vexation at the delay, the door opened, and the long-expected bridegroom put in an appearance.

His presence was greeted, with a shout of welcome from the assembled squatters.

Cool Gleason was a short, thick-set man of forty, with a heavy,sensual face, and red-brown eyes not apreposessing man to look upon.

He was rich—a very good reason for making bis years and grossness appear lovable in the eyes of an eighteen-year-old maiden, reason sufficient to satisfy the neighboring settlers at least, and no one questioned the good sense of pretty, dove-eyed Violet in the choice she had made.

With the bridegroom came the man who was to officiate at the wedding. Squire Black, a backwoods justice of small brain and very limited in his knowledge of law. "Our good friends are all assembled, I see," saia Gleason, as he shook the water from his broad brimed felt hat. "I didn't expect to see so many out such a night as this. Ugh but its a reg'lar soaker." "What made you so late?" demanded Towne. "You've kept us waiting an age. Violet is half dead with fear on your account." "She is, eh?" with a low chuckle. "I don't think the young lady would weep much if I hadn't come at all. The fact is Mr. Black here was absent from home when 1 called for him that is the cause of the delay." "Well, 'all's well that ends well,'" quote Towne. "I will tell Emily to have Violet ready at a moment's notice. Take something to drink, Cool I'll be back in a few minutes."

With that, Brooke Towne left the room. Cool Gleason poured out a glass of brandy, and quaffed it with seeming relish. Then, removing his outer garments, which were soaked with water, lie stood by the great stove, in which a fire had been recently kindled.

The eyes of Roberts watched Gleason narrowly,

"It's like leading a lamb to the sacrifice." he muttered to himself. "Poor little Violet, I cannot believe that she has sold herself willingly for this man's gold. I do not like the appearance of Brooke Towne. There's deceit and cruelty in every lineament of his hard face."

Just then Towne returned, his face black as a thunder-cloud. "Did Violet pass through here a moment ago?" he demanded, fiercely.

There was a general negative to this question. What's the trouble?" questioned Gleason, turning to meet his prospective father-in-law, whose dark face showed that his cruel nature was stirred to tho core. "Matter enough," growled Brooke Towno, thrusting a slip of paper into the hand of the bridegroom. "Read that and see what you make of it."

DKAR FATHER: I can not be Cool Gleason'*. wife. Heaven knows I would gladly obey you In all things but this, Doath is preferable to such fate as you have marked for me. Forgive me this act of disobedience,dear f:itlier. When you read this your child will be no more. VIOLET.

The heavy face of Cool Gleason failed to reveal his thoughts as he read the note. "Has the girl fled the house?" he questioned, cooly. "Yes every thing is in disorder in her room. Sue has not been gone many irinutes." returned Towne. "We must find her, then, at once."

Yes. Sho has gone direct to the river. Good heavens! do you suppose she has thrown horsolf in?"

Cool Gleason laughed scornfully. "BHII he muttered, "It's a mere ruse to give us the slip. Get out your lanterns perhaps we'll find her before she goes far."

Great oxcitemont prevailed when it was known that the bride had lied from the paternal roof, and all the squatters Joined in the search that was quickly instituted, nianv wondering at the mad froak that had fiont a young girl out into the storm and darkness on her bridal eve.

CHAPTER II.

SAVED FROM THE WATERS.

Who can picture the feelings of Violet Towne, as she stood before the glass in lior own chamber on her wedding-night.

Of all the men on the border, Cool Gleason was the one for whom she feit the greatest aversion.

Ho was her father's boon companion, a spendthrift and a libertifle. At any rate, so Violet believed, from what had reached her oars, and she shrank from him as from a leper.

Violet, with her golden hair, bine eyes and fair complexion, was the beauty of the settlements. Many of the young squatters had paid her attention, yet to none of them had she given her heart.

Cool Gleason was her father's favorite why, Violet could not imagine. To-uight she was to be this man's wife.

Against her protestations, her tearful pleading, was the marriage-day Appointed, and she commanded to be in readiness.

Eighty rods from the house rolled the waters of a broad river. In her heart, Violet resolved, at the last moment, to find a grave beneath the waters rather than unite her life with that of Cool Gleason.

It was night. The storm raged fiercely without. Violet stood in her bridal robe, as she had been dressed two honrs before, by the two young girls who had coaie for the purpose.

They had left the room, and the fair bride was alone. "God give mo strength for the ordeal," she murmured, twisting her masses of golden hair in a knot at the back of her stately head. "I will die to-night, and Cool (tleason will lose his bride. Better the bride «f Death than

Ere she had finished, the door of her chamber slowly opened, and a woman entered.

The new-comer was a slight, fragilelooking creature, with a thin, painmarked face, and sad brown eyes. That she had suffered intensely, was plainly visible. There was a shrinking look about the face, something that gave the possessor the appearance of continual fear. Her waving mass of dark hair was streaked with silver threads, marks of a

prematare old age. Violet turned and confronted the woman with a little cry, "Mother!" "Violet, mv darling!"

The h**d of the maiden was quickly pillowed on the bosom of the elder woman.

2 TEKRE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

"There is no hope, mother?'' "None, my child." "No escape from this horrible fate?" moaned the young girl, piteously. "I can see none, my precious Violet. Your father fs inexorable." "Crael, wicked, nnjnst!" JB

All of that, Violet." The brave girl roused herself suddenly, her face aflame with stern resolve. "Has he come yet, mother?" "Gleason?" "Yes." "No but he is expected every moment." "When he arrives father will come for me?" "Yes." "Mother, leave me to myself for a time," said Violet, calmly. "I must have a little time in which to collect myself and prepare for the ordeal."

Mrs. Towne kissed her daughter tenderly, a tear falling upon the golden head, as she drew Violet once more to her embrace. "God grant you strength and resignation!" murmured Mrs. Towne, turning away.

When the young girl was once more alone, she stepped to her desk at the head of the bed. From this she took pen, ink and paper, and hastily wrote a few lines, laying the note on the stand in front of the glass.

Throwing alight shawl over her head, opened the dc tenea.

she opened the door noiselessly, and lis-

The sound of voices from the assembled guests reached her ear. Passing out into the i.arrow hall that crossed the house on the upper floor, she stole cautiously along to the head of the stairs.

This flight of stairs led to the kitchen. There was another flight at theotherend of the hall, leading to a short hall below, which separated the room where the squatters were assembled from the one occupied by the women. These were the two front rooms, with a kitchen and bedroom at the back.

A dim light was burning in the kitchen, where several of the backwoods lassies were engaged in cooking supper for the guests.

How to pass through the kitchen unseen was what troubled Violet. For fully ten minutes the girl stood in the shadows on the stairs, waiting for the kitchen to become vacated.

Presently the girls all ran chattering into the next room. Now was her time. Violet glided silently into the kitchen, opened the outer door, and stood on the steps, exposed to the pittiless fury of the storm.

The rain was pelting her mercilessly. Better storm, darkness, death, than the fate awaiting her should she remain inside.

With a prayer for mercy for the mad act she contemplated. Violet Towne plunged boldly out into the surging vortex of the tempest.

Down by the bank of the river, something over a mile from the estate of Brooke Towne, stood, at the time of our story, a small block-house, built of logs, whose outer and inner surface was hewn square by the axe of the builder.

A' small clearing of about an acre surrounded the house, which stood on a low point, formed by a large creek that emptied its waters into the river.

On the evening of the wedding, two persons sat over a cheerful wood fire fire that burned in the small cook stove listening to the howling of the tempest outside.

One, the elder, was a woman, with a strong, rather handsome face, dark-gray eyes, and a wealth of brown hair, neatly fastened with a gold pin at the back of a well-shaped head. She was not far from thirty years of age.

Her companion was six years her junior, a youth with hair and eyes to match theWoman's.

He was tall, rather awkward in build, and dressed in a suit of coarse jeans. His bead rested on one large, brown hand, while a look of deep sadness pervaded his not unhandsome face. "What has come over you to-night, Donald? asked the woman, abruptly. "Does this storm affect you much? You haven't smiled once to-night." "It's not the storm, Lavina," returned the young man. "What then, brother mine?" "Thoughts of what is going on this night up at Towne's." "Oh! you are thinking of that wedding. Do you know, I have found myself wondering why yon are not there, drinking yourself merry with the rest. Weren't you invited?" "No." "A slight on Miss Violet's part." "No again," returned Donald Preston, with compressed lips and lowering brow. "Violet Towne would have invited me, had I been inclined to attend. She has sold herself for gold, and well knows that I would no more set my foot inside her father's house than I'd cut my throat." "You are very bitter, Donald." "The case demands it," he retorted, springing to his feet and pacing the floor.

His sister's 'gray eyes followed him wonderingly. "What has come over you, Donald? Are you crazy to-nigbt?" "I believe so," he said, fiercely, pausing beside bis sister's chair. "Lavina, I would give my life to stand in Cool Gleason's place to-night." "Is it possible that you bave been foolish enough to allow yourself to fall in love with Violet Towne, the heiress of ten thousand acres, to "Foolish!" he interrupted, suddenly. "Lavina Preston, I tell you Violet Towne is more to me than life. I would gladly die to know that she cured for me."" "Foolish boy,-' murmured the sister, sadly, "I never once suspected such a thing. A Preston is no mate for a Towne." "I am sadly awake to that fact," he returned. "A poor, clumsy raftsman has no right to except such happiness but to think that little Violet should throw herself away on such a villain as Cool Gleason. It's terrible, terrible!"' "Cool Gleason is rich." "A spendthrift!" "Received into the best society." "A heartless libertine! "In the eyes of the world, a fit mate for Violet Towne." "A gross, sordid, heartless brute! unfit to walk in the shadow of Violet Towne," returned the young raftsman, bitterly. "Yet she loves him." "Loves him? Impossible!" exclaimed Donald. "I tell you she has sold herself for gold."

Just then a sound came borne to their ears above the bowling of the tempest— a sound that caused both to gaxe, pale and speechless, into each other's eyes.

Again the sound came, dying away in a despairing wail on the roaring blast. "A woman's scream!"cried the sister, her face suddenly paling. "A woman's scream! echoed Donald, springing to the door. "TN here are you going?" "Some one is perishing oat yonder— soma woman!"

With these words the youth opened the door, and dashed out into the night.

Lavina, with a white, alarmed face, went to the door and peered out into the raging storm.

The wind and rain dashed in her face, but she stood firmly in her place. A glare of lightning lit up the heavens, revealing the black forest, the wide expanse of flood, the surging, roaring waters of the river filled to overflowing by the rain. Another glare, and Lavina Preston saw her brother struggling through the rain, saw the flutter of a white dress on the water, and then all was darkness.

Rigid and terror-stricken, the woman stood at her post. The next flash of lightning brought a cry of joy to her lips. Donald was struggling from the water with a white, drippingform in his arms

Holding wid& the door sho waited his coming. Staggering forward with his burden, the young raftsman entered the bouse, and lay the drenched, insensible form of a young girl on the floor in front of the stove.

Closing the door, Lavina turned and regarded the object before her. "Violet Towne 1" exclaimed the woman in startled tones. "Violet Towne!" echoed Donald, "and she is dead!"

With the words he knelt down and raised the fair girl's head to his knee.

CHAPTER III.

THE STRANGER AND MRS. TOWNE. Lanterns flashed through the woods along the borders of the clearing dowu by the river's bank. ~A score of settlers were scouring the vicinity for the lost bride.

The women were huddled together, speaking in whispers, evidently frightened, as well as afnazed, at the turn affairs had taken. "What could have possessed her?" said one. "On such a night, too."

Mrs. Towne escaped from the group of sympathizing women as quickly as

Saughter's

ossible, and hurried up the stairs to her room, where everything was in disorder, evidencing a hasty flight. "My poor little Violet!" she murmured. "God knows you had sufficient cause to flee from your home, but I fear it will bring no good, no release for you. Brooke is determined. He will find you and dragyou back again."

Mrs. Towne sank down in a chair with clasped hands, a sad, mouruful light burning in her brown eyes.

She did not know of the note Violet had left, indicating her intention to take her own life. Her daughter had fled from an ordeal too terrible to be borne, which would result only in a short respite. The marriage would come just the same, though Violet might escape for the time.

These were the thoughts entertained by Emily Towne as she sat in the dimly-lighted bridal chamber on that night of storm and darkness.

Roberts had not gone with the other searchers. After the men had left the house, he walked to the door leading into the ball. Opeuing this, he peered out.

He saw a female figure cross the hall and pass up the stairs. A look of recognition flashed from his eyes. "It's Emily!" he muttered. "I must see her to-night, come what will."

With that lie opened the door noiselessly, and crept to the stairs. There was a busy hum of voices in the next room, where the squatters wives were discussing the runaway.

Mrs. Towne sat with her thin fingers interlaced, gazing in a fit of abstraction at the various articles wearing apparel scattered about the room, when the door creaked on its hinges.

She turned witn a start to see a tall, bearded man standing on the theshokl.

With a startled cry she sprang to her feet. The man closed tho door gently, his dark eyes bent upon the face of the woman before him. "What means this intrusion, sir?" demanded Mrs. Towne. her voice trembling in spite of herself. "Be not alarmed,Emily," said the mau Roberts with a nod of tho head. "Leave the room at once!" "For Heaven's sake, bush!' 'exclaimed Roberts. "You will have all those women from below up here if speak so loud."

Mrs. Towno regarded the man in evident alarm. "Who are you, and what do you seek here she demanded, abruptly. "I came to see you, Emily, and to look over some land I have lately purchased in this region."

The voice of Roberts sounded strangely familiar to Mrs. Towne. Her face grew pale, and her slight form trembled under the influence of the first drawing of a revelation. "Emily Vanderville, don't yoH know me

Her eyes dilated, and started at the man intently then a low, glad cry escaped her lips. "Robert Radway!" she exclaimed, tottering forward into the outstretched artn9 ol the stranger.

He held her closely for a moment, a moist light filling his dark eyes. "Yes, Emily, my darling, it is Robert Radway, come to you once more after all these years. I was a wild, reckless lad once, but I have reformed. How fares it with you Emily?"

She struggled up from his arms, and gazed fondly into his handsome face.? "So changed she murmured. "Yes. I was but nineteen when you last saw me, Emily, and I am now one and thirty." "That beard hid your identity com,"said Mrs. Towne. "You asked

IOW it fared with me Robert. The past twelve years have been years of torment, years of bitter sufferings." "I feared so," he said. "You remember who alienated us in the past,Emily." "Yes. You was bitterly opposed to my marriage with Brooke'towne." "For which I had good reason," "Alas yea. I was blinded then." "Brooke Towne is a selfish, cruel man," returned Roberts,"one who never was the friend of Charles Vanderville, but his most bitter enemy. Have you not found it so?" "To my sorrow, I have," murmured the woman. "Radway led Mrs. Thome to a seat, taking one himself near her.

His eyes wandered about the room. "So Violet was to be married tonight?" he said, suddenly. "I saw the prospective bridegroom—a sordid, un-wholesome-looking fellow. The bride has fled from her would-be husband on her wedding night. There's something strange about all. Can you explain, Emily?'' "It was a marriage in which she had no heart," said Mrs. Towne. "I thought so." "She has fled out into the storm, risking the dangers of the tempest in preference to the horrors of this marriage." "Violet did not love this man?" "She detests him." "Then why did yon allow it to go on?" "I was powerless to prevent it," returned Mrs. Towne, sadly. "I dare not cross Brooke in anything. He has set

his heart upon Violet's marrying Cool Gleason. Poor girl! I shudder when I think of her, out in this storm yet better that—better dead than in the arms of Cool Gleason!"

Robert Radway rose and paced the floor thoughtfully. "Emily.*' he said, suddenly pausing in front of her, "your daughter must not sacrifice herself on the altar of Mammon. Little Violet was always my friend I loved her in my boyhood, when she was a wee bit of a child. She has grown to be a beautiful woman now, I suppose, and this villainous Gleason has set his lustful heart upon possessing her. Brooke Towne has sold yourchila, madam, for a consideration." "I believe it." "Yet you would not interfere to save Charles Vandervile's child from such a fate!" he said, rebukinglv.

The sad-faced womau sighed deeply. "A merited rebuke, Rmjert but you do not understand my position." "Surely you, the mother of Violet, ought to have something to 8aj' in a matter of this kind."

Mrs. Towne rose to her feet, her sad, brown eyes full of the shrinking dread that seemed always with her. "Robert, Robert, you do not know Brooke Towne as I do! she said, shudderingly. "Look at uie, and then speak again as yon have, if you can. io I look like one tvbo has led a pleasant life?"

He gazed into her deep-sunken eyes, her thin, shrunken face, and upon'her delicate, fragile form.

A new ligpt seemed to dawn upoivfiis brain. "Indeed you are changed, Emily Vanderville," he said, pityingly, '•from a blooming girl to an old woman, in twelve years. Brooke Towne must be devil!" "Robert, he would murder mo if 1 dared to inteifere between him aiui Violet. "Why do you not leave him? You can surely do that." "No! He would follow me, and my sufferings would be increased tenfold. 1 must remain until death conies to ease my sufferings death, for which I have prayed many, many times! I think Violet has saved me from taking my miserable life more than once, Robert.'' "Poor child, poor little Violet! They will find her and bring her back, and then "Then she will be forced to wed Cool Gleason." "Nevei exclaimed the'young man, with sudden ^vehemence. "I will stand between the girl and such a fate! "You must be very careful, Robert," said Mrs. Towne "my husband hates you with a murderous hatred. You mustjnot be found here by him. He may return at any moment. Perhaps you had better go now. You will remain in this neighborhood for a time, I suppose?" "Yes, until I fathom what has seemed a mystery to me for long years. Ha 1 what was that?"

Mrs. Towne darted to tho window. Lights were flashing through the grove near the house. "The squatters are returning," she said, quickly. "Qo, Robert, erd you are observed." "I will go," he said. "Your husband does not suspect who I am. I shall remain a guest here for a few days as Mr. Roberts you understand, Emily

Yes, yes but hasten, or your presence here may be discovered I" Without another word he turned and walked from the room.

"I cannot believe she is dead, Donald,' said Lavina, as her brother uttered the despairing cry, recorded at the close of the last chapter. "She does not breathe! See how white and still she lays. Oh, my poor little Violet, my darling!" groaned Donald Preston, pressing his lips upon the white, cold face, damp with the waters of the river. "We must save her, Donald she is not dead!,' cried Lavina, hurrying to the cupboard for stimulants.

With a calmness and precision in marked contrast to tho helpless despair evinced by her brother, the old maid proceeded to resusitate the apparently drowned girl.

Donald stood mutely watching her efforts, a look of settled despair in his gray eyes.. "Go to your room, Donald, and change your wet clothes. Violot is not dead sue itf reviving," said Lavina, In a cool self-possessed voice. "Are you sure?" .cried Donald eagerly*

Just then tho girl opened her eyes and grasped for breath. "Thank God for his mercy!" cried the young raftsman, fervently, turning away.

The house contained but two rooms. Donald entered the other room, and shortly after c*mo forth with a dry suit on his back.

What was his surprise to find Violet sitting up, her wet bridal-robe removed, and one of Lavina's calico wrappers in its place.

Donald uttered a cry of loy, and forward with extended hand.

Violet was-still weak from the terrible snock her system had received. She took the proffered palm of the raftsman, a grateful look beaming in her blue eyes. "I owe my life to you, Donald," she said, simply.

How his heart leaped as her sweet lips pronounced bis name. In answer to his questions, she explained in a few words how she came to be so far from home on her wedding night. "I contemplated self-destruction at first," she said, "but better though-s

Sared

re vailed, and I resolved to live. I not take my own life." Just then a light flashed through the window from the outer darkness.

Donald sprang to his feet as a thundin a "It's Cool Gleason and my father!"

exclaimed Violet, clinging to the arm of the raftsman, her slight form trembling like a leaf. "Ob, Donald Donald save me! save mel 1 will not go back with them "Trust me, little Violet," he answered, thrilled by her words "you shall not go if yeu do not care to."

He turned toward the door, but, ere he gained it, those without pressed it open, and Brooke Towne, Cool Gleason and another man burst into the room, wet and draggled with rain. |[TO BE CONTINUED.]

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"Itching Piles" "Itching Piles" "Itching Piles" "Itching Piles" "Itching Piles" "Itching Piles" "Itching Piles" "Itching Piles" "Itching Piles"

I "I have suffered 26 years from Itching ^Pllesjconsnlted many physicians and used many remedies hut fruiml no permanent until 1 used Swayne's

O in tin t." tl eo. Simpson, New Haven, Ct.

Diseases" Diseases" Diseases" Diseases" Diseases" Diseases" Diseases" Diseases"

J. Ask your druggist for it. srSdwly

fttSOO per year can be easily made at home working for E. G. Hideout A Co., 10 Barclay Street, New York. Send for their catalogue and full particulars.

Griggs' Glycerine Naive. The best on earth cati truly bo said of Griggs' Glycerine Salve, which is a sure euro for cuts, bruises, scalds, burns, wounds, and all other sores. Will positively cure piles, tettor and all skin eruptions. Satisfaction guaranteed or money refunded. Only 25 cents. For sale by Groves lxiwrv. (tf.)

The Great

Consumption Remedy

EC/IR^' BROWN'S

EXPECTORAHT

Hits been fitted in hundred* of ease*, and never failed to arrest and cure ONS VMVTIOW, if taken in time.

It Cures Coughs. It Cures Asthma.' It Cures Bronchitis. It Cures Hoarseness. It Cures Tightness of the Chest. It Cures Difficulty of Breathing

BROWN'S Exf»ECjof^\N*

I* Specially Kceommendcd

WaQtQ&MCG

NESS

Cqvgbi.for

It wilt shorten the duration of the disease and alleviate the paroxysm of rourhiuff. to an to mnble the child to pan* through it without leaving any serious consequences.

PRICE, 50c and $1.00.

A. KIEFEB,

IndianaiK.lis. Intl.

I

0t

I#

gCjOfc

—frrrs&UBGH. PA.

"LINDSCTS'BLOOD searche

THE GREAT- JONlC/NO ilF£ PR Eye." Ft Vt-

EARS

roB T,fK

MILLION

Foo €h*o'» Balsam of Mintfc's Oil. P#iitlv» Iy Restores the hearing, and is the Only Aonolate Cure for Dretfnem Known.

This Ol' i* abstracted from peculiar stjecien of small White Shark, caught in the bellow Hea, known as Carcharodon Kondcleth. Kvery Chinese fisherman knows it. Its virtues as a restorative of hearing were discovered by a Buddhist Priest about the year M10. Its cares were so numerous and many so miraculous, that the remedy Is officially proclaimed over the entire Empire. It became so universal that for over mm years no Deafness ha* existed among the Chinese. Sent, charges prepaid, to any address, at SU)0 per bott e.

Hear What the Deal Nay! It has performed a miracle In my case. I have no unearthly noises in my head and hear much better.

I

have been greatly benefited. My deafness helped a great dqal—think another bottle will cure me. "Its virtues arc unquestionable and its curative character absolute, as the writer can personal ty testify, both from expedience and observation. Write at once to Haylock A Jenney, 7 Dey Street, New York, enclosing fljOO, and you will recleve by return a remedy that will enable you to hear like any body erne, ami whose curative effect* will be permanent. You will never regret doing so. Editor of Merchantile Review. •arTo avoid losses by malls, please send money by Registered Letter. edby BATLOlH*iM!«kT. (Late of Haylock A Co Sole agents for America.