Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 13, Number 12, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 16 September 1882 — Page 2

THE MAIL

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

ZERKK HAUTE, SEPT. 16, 1882

De King of Fruits.

BY UNCLE JOEL.

Some er pa'abel ter de apple, oddahB clamor fer de plum, Boxnc fin' enjoyment

Jn

dc cherry, oaaansmaKO

do peatbog hiitn: ,, Some git fa*toned tor de onion, oddans lub the a'ticboke, But my ta^t? an' watormcllen or boun by a pleasant yoke.

Some fin' pleasure in the orange, oddaha choose de cant aloupe. Some ro fon' ob do bennana, some de huckleberry xenop Dar cr timber lnde punpkln to' do richest k.na

ob pic*.

But do Mx-ck'lcd watormcllen! Ob! how full hit tills my eyes, Yo' rmi»t climb tor *rit de apple, cr de cherry, "or poach. An ran"' nllui when yo' cat dem, kecpadctah wldln reach But -Jo Iubly watermc-Men mokes hJtibed upon de «rnun\ .. And do darkey, not do doctah, In de moonlight make* the roun'.

Through Danger.

A Love That Could Not Be Sold.

CI1APTEU vn.

A NA11UOW ESCAPE.

Three weeks had elapsed since Philip Bathurst had joined the motley crowd at the diggings. and fortune had not

Bathiint had joined the motley crowd

been 1.1:1 kind to him. All d.iy he worked, and in the night built rustles for the .future, wherein Flo |i.::vt-d the principal part. Hut for Mark's 1 .th never would digger have been more jolly.

When a man is in that humor he generally craves for a confidant, as far aa he could Philip made the Jew one. Isaac, Lewis had seemed to take a special liking to the young fellow, or rather to rely upon his vouth, strength, and generous nature, l'hilip's was not the nature to refuse anyone help that ho could give, so when "the Jew, half apologetically, announced his desire to rear his little tent by the young fellow's. P{iilip lent him a hand.

He compassionated him also for his infirmity of deafness, which was so great that it isolated him from all. for no one paid heed save Philip to "Deaf Old Cli.'," the nickname bestowed on him, as with stooped form he slunk about the diggings.

Von are unfortunate in your claims," remaiked Philip Bathurst one day to the Jew "and so you ever will be, Lewis, if you don't stick to one with more perseverance. No sooner do you get a font below the surface than you give it up and l'o elsewhere." "Klsevero. Yes, yes—ho—he," nodded the Jew. "Vou shall see, Mishter Uathursi. Ho—he—he! only vait and I shall be rich as I vants. There ish good sth'M-ling gold to he found, and I shall !ind it. lie—he—he!" "Obstinate old chap," muttered Philip as he marched away, his pick over his shoulder.

As lie went the Jew ceased working, and looked after him, a strange expression in his bright eyes. Then shouldering his own pic!c ho went oft in another direction, finally pitching unon an(Vther piece of land, and sending his pick into it wfth wonderful vigor.

Near the spot were two diggers in high boots and garibaldi, lying near their claim, drinking and talking earnestly. At the sound of the pick, one *jan. ed round. "It's only 'Old Clo,"' laughed tho other. "11 any chap was a disgrace to his tube it's him. I thought Jew's noses could smell gold a mile oil. "I reckon he's got a tile loose. He's always digging where there ain't a bit of chance, and where there is he Ifcaves it. lint hadn't we better movo our quarters?" '•'Cause of him? Why. ho'd hardly bear a gun let off close at his ear. You see.'' liaising his voice he called:— "Deaf old Clo. you won't git much out of that claim, it's been worked."

The Jew paused, looked vaguely up, placed his hand behind his ear, then pnweeded with his pick. "You see, ho counts for nothing

80

now. what was 1 saying?" And tho two men resumed their conversation.

Philip Ratlin rat had a glorious find that day. almost the biggest nugget the diggings had produced.

Others had witnessed his good luck, and the intelligence ran through tho camp.

Flushed and delighted he gave over work at dusk, and returned to his tent. Time never hung heavily on his bauds. In the breast-pocket of his garibaldi were three letter from Flo, and no occupation was so sweet and interesting as the re-peru*al of these.

IPs candle lighted he employed some of his time in reckoning ui h!s gains. They almost exceeded his hopes. "ff matters go on like this," he reflected. "in less than another month I may get the colonel to purchase me a station, and-and soon after that"— with a thrill of delirious joy—"I may make Flo, my sweet darling Flo—my wife. It's very jolly working for her but it will be far more so when I have her bv my side, her dear head on my breasl, ami her eyes—Heaven bless th»m! —shyly, yet fondly, meeting mine. Ah. t« work—work, for every nour I briuff thai time nearer is an extra hoar of paradise. ho in order to be tip at dawn be put out the light and threw himself on his rough bed.^uid, healthfully tired, speedllv slept.

S !en%* had scarcely fallen over the camp hen the opening Isaac Lewis's t*nt was slightly raised, and the Jew c!'nt forth. Keeping in the shadow, he crawled to the darkest side of Philip Iktti.urst's tent, drew out his knife, made a deep rent in the canvas, and pulled himself through.

The voung man's breathing told where he laid, the Jew stole along to Ma side, then quickly placed one hand on his shoulder, and one on his mouth, while be whispered as, Philip sprang uv:

'•'Hush, not a word for your life! I'm Lewish. There'sh to be an attack on your tent to-night." "By whom?'rexclaimed Philip. "Get up and dress have your pishtols ready." "Is it any of the diggers, Isaac? queried Philip, as he obeyed. "Tut! he cannot hear me. and I dare not raise my voice. It's to steal my nugget.

A moment a suspicion of the Jew himself flashed across his mind, but he banished it as he completed his dressing. "Are you ready?" whispered the Jew "if sho. come outshide and vatch.— TTiev vill shoon be here."

Wondering who "they" could be. Philip approached the door, when Isaac Lewis drew him back. "No. no. They vill shee you. This vay there ish shadows. The vay I got in." "And a remarkably cool way, too," reflected the young fellow nevertheless, dropping on nands and kneea, and following tne Jew. "If ve are sthill, ve vill catch 'em," whispered Isaac. Ve vill unmask 'em they shall not escape. He, he. he."

Even as he spoke, a blue thread of light, as that which betrays a powdertrain, darted from the direction of the Jew's tent to Philip's, entering it at the part where his bed was.

There was a loud explosion, a glare of light, and the tent was hurled into fragments.

Philip and Lewis were flung to the ground from the concussion, but swiftly they sprang to their feet, and in the lare of the blazing tent came almost ace to face with two rough diggers who were advancing rapidly. "That's 'em," cried the Jew. "Seize 'em, they mushn't eschape."

The villains had, however, already leaped back as one did so, he aimed his revolver and fired.

Philip Bathurst gave a leap in the air and fell with a groan to the ground. Isaac Lewis, uttering almost a howl of rage, sprang forward, discharging his revolver Barrels after the diggers, apparently without effect, for they never stopped in their flight, and speedily were lost in the darkness.

The Jew did not pursue. Instead, with every indication of sorrow, he flung himself down by Philip Bathurst. Eagerly by the light of the llaiues he examined nis face, then felt his pulse.

No, he was not dead. But he must have aid at once. The bullet had struck him low down near the heart.

Help was readily given, for the explosion and pistol reports had speedily collected a crowd of diggers, who began extinguishing tho flames.

To one causo alone could bo attributed the attack—robbery, and one of the laws among tne respectable diggers is mutual protection. Thus a guard was instantly formed to protect Philip's property, while he, still insensible, was borne to a neighboring tent.

The wound proved of a far less dangerous character than the Jew had imagined. Indeed, it was not serious, though Philip Bathurst must give up roUWigging for some time. Isaac lewis at onco constituted himself his nurse, taking his place by his bedside.

It was near dawn when Philip, his senses clearer, said, regarding the Jew tixedly: "Isaac. I owe my life to

3'ou.

But for

you I must have fallen a victim to those scoundrels' plans to blow me into fragments. Yet 1 am iu a fog. Tell mo

"Nothing," interrupted the Jew, with a quick glance round at the other occupants of the tent. "You must not talk, out shleep. Vait, Mishter Bathurst ven you are better you may spheak." Tho words were accompanied meaning glance.

Perforce Philip had to obey but no sooner did those who had given hira shelter depart for their day's work, than he exclaimed: "Now, Isaac, may I speak?" "Yesh. I vill answer."

They talked for a long time, indeed, until they were interrupted. "And you have no definite proof as to who these men arc, though you suspect?" asked Philip. "No," replied the Jew.

{eave

uBut—hush!"

he hastily interrupted himself. "Somebody ishcomir.g. It was the third day after the attack, and Philip was growing restless under cmllnement, when Isaac brought him a letter that had been sent on by the colonel. lie Instantly recognized the writing of tho Bathursts' solicitor, with whom he had kept up communication. Eagerly he tore it open, and read these brief sentences: "Mr IKvn Mr. Primp:—Tour unelo has had a fit. He I* much enfeebled. Ho has for tho tlrst time mado inquiry respecting you. The doctor say* It Is doubtful If he can live six months. Come back at once, you ought not to bo so far awar. From what 1 can Judge. 1 am sure ho Is softening toward you. Cosne. In haste, mail Just starting, yours faithfully, "Edward Lacrib. "Isaac," exclaimed Philip, rising up, "wound or no. I must get back to Shadv Creek, and from thence to England.x' "England!" "Yes, my uncle is ill. The solicitor recalls me. I must lose no time. Prav

»roeure me a horse. My gold I will in your care." "Your gold you vill take vlth you," answered the Jew. "If you are fit to travel you are not fit to do so alone. I shall go too."

Phil.p grasped his baud. "You area friend indeed," he ejaculated.

Isaac Lewis made no rejoinder, but hastened from the tent. He had soon everything prepared, but so secretlv that none but two or three knew of 'the projected departure for tho Jew said, as tiiey had failed to secure the villains who bad fired the tent, they might, for .it th *y knew, be hoverii^ somewhere the ranges, and ung'.it lie in aw:* for the i«o.

Thus, at about midnight, when all was still, and the moon only beginning to throw silvery line)down the hillside, Philip Bathmsi quitted the camp, proceeding to a chuvp 1,*' trees by the river, where Isaac Lewis waited with the loaded horses.

Before dawn thev were far on their way to Shady Creek. Titers are few medicines as efficacious as good news.

Philip, in the lho:u»H of again seeing Flo, fel* .!© of his wound. Besides. how briv .'t, possibly, now was his future. It must not bo imagined that he, evea remotely, rejoiced that his uncle's days were numbered. lie, indeed, prayed that they were not but, if he would only twee more acknowledge him as his neir, then there would be no need to dig up a fortune before Colonel Grainger would consent to his marriage witahii niece.

On the morning of their antral at the station, Flo sat a ?rkjn theyenndah

with her aunt, while Herbert Archer stood near in conversation, flicking his boot with his riding-whip and his dark eyes fixed on Flo. watching the delicate curve of her throat, the rose flush on her cheek.

After he had won her pity, and his rival had departed, he had been a frequent guest at the station.

His manner, however, had been so respectful and unobtrusive, that any awkwardness Flo had felt soon wore off, and sho experienced for him a greater regard than she had ever done before.

Herbert Archer was not slow to perceive this and to work upon it, taking care to make her fearless in his presence under the belief that he had coo quered that love which, in truth, was consuming him as a furnace the receptacle in which it burns.

Even at the present moment wild mad thoughts passed through his brain of seizing ner in his arms, carrying her to where his horse stood at the gate, and escaping into the bush. "Better wait for Mat," he said mentally "he'll do the work safest out there, if he hasn't done it already, and my cursed rival put in a claim, none will care to dispute, to six foot of earth."

At that very moment. Mrs. Crane, throwing her head up, and holding her needle high to thread it, exclaimed: "Flo, see on the hill yonder, are not those visitors coming to the station?" "They are two horsemen coming this way, auntie but whether especially visitors I cannot say." "They are riding fast." put in Herbert Archer, as Flo, rising, stood by his side.

With the interest of those who live in solitanr bush stations, the three watched the two rapidly approaching.

Suddenly, almost instantaneously, a change came over the features of Flo and Herbert Archer both of surprise, but one of joy, the other of fury.— Eagerly the girl leaned forward, and then cried: "It is! it is! Oh, it is, auntie. See, he is waving his hat. It is Philip. Let us meet him."

Not waiting for their reply, light as a bird, she ran from the verandah to the gate. "It is he. curse him!" muttered Herbert Archer between his teeth then with a bitter smile he added: "I will say good-morning, Mrs. Crane I feel I should be de trop at this happy meeting." "Poor young man," reflected Aunt Crane. "Ah, he'd have been the man for my money. So noble, and has taken his disappointment so well."

Herbert Archer strode to the gate and mounted his horse. "Miss Grainger," he said, in a low tone, "you will pardon my going. I could not bear to see you meet."

She had no words to speak, but extended her hand with a glance of com-

Eending,

assionate kindness, lie took it, and, touched his lips to it. "I would give all I possess—nay, life itself," he exclaimed, fervently, "to be Philip Bathurst at this moment."

Then he rode quickly off down the road, a dark frown on his face as he muttered: "What does Mat mean by having let this man return here alive? Confound him lie shall answer to me for this." "Philip!" "My darling!"

That was for a moment nil they said, as he clasped her to his heart, Isiuic Lewis having taken the horses round to the stable. Then consternation into her eyes as she exclaimed: "But, oh, my Philip, you are ill. face is pale and thin." "My darling," he laughed gaily man can be ill wiio feels the luv being in creation. Even were I 1 feel one glance of your sweet co nance would bring back life." "Ah. Philip, you cannot deceive hie. You are ill. If not, why have youl returned so unexpectedly?" I "Flo, dearest, I come because I iave news—great news.. I have to start for £nglanu at once." "England!" and tho color yet further faded from her cheek. "Yes, love. Don't look frightened, for the only obstacle to our union, Flo, I trust now will he 3peedily removed. All. here comes the colonel. Let us join him, then I will tell you all."

The "all" was speedily told, and listened to bv the hearers with different feeling, i'lo forgot everything but the attack and the danger Philip had run. She nestled closer to his side, as if, while there, no further harm could reach him.

The colonel, a soldier who had himself been more than once wound thought only of the chance of Phili being reinstated in his uncle's favor. "Quite right, my boy," he exclaimau "You must not delay. You must jp at once. Where's the last paper fn^pi Sydney. Hero it is. The Clan Buchatan starts for England on the twentieth If you go bv that, which you ought t*, you should leave here to-morrow. A^e you strong enough?"' "Oh, no," murmured Flo. "Yes, colonel," replied Philip, smting. "A day and night's rest will s€t me up again." "That right, and the rest you shad have. Kate and I will see to your preparations, so don't you worry." with a consideration that showed he had not forgotten his ownyoung days, the colonel took care that Flo and Philip should have much of the time to themselves, while it was very blissful to Philip to be waited on by so sweet a fo

Ee

lVfe?"

"I run dangers!" she smiled "thatls not likely. But the sea—" "The sea." he laughed "think of 4e thousands of ships upon it, and the f&r that harm comes to. But, at any rat?, do not let us waste these hajppy raiments by gloomy forebodings.' "That my idea." remarked the Obad, stepping into the darkening rota "so let us have lights and a merry evening."

Before the ligflts were brought. PHlip drew hb betrothed to his henrt, .i- aa he kissed her white for&ueasl, oered

TERKE HAUTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

"Darling, you will not be low-spirit-ed, for my sake." "For yours, I promise, Philip, and I ask the same from vou." "My wife." he wliispered, and never had they felt how deep and unswerving was their affection as at that moment.

The next morning Philip started, the colonel beariug him company part of the way.

Isaac Lewis was among those who saw him off. Flo had taken a particular liking to him for the service he had rendered Philip, and the Jew had promised to remain awhile at the station before returning to the diggings. "As Philip Bathurst shook his hand in parting, bending, he whispered, hurriedly: "I go without fear, for 1 tyust in you.' "You may," nodded the Jew then, with a respectful salutation, stepped quickly back.

chapter mi.

A MESSAGE /ROM TILE QUEEN.

"Goodness gracious me. what is that?" ejaculated Mrs. Crane, straighting her form, which had been bent over a flower-bed.

A piercing scream, brief, but full of suffering, had run" abruptly through the station then all was silent. "Gracious! it must be Flo. Whatever is the matter?"

Quickly she hastened to the room where she had left her niece. Entering, she found Colonel Grainger kneeling on the floor, the young girl resting in his arms, pale, motionless, as though dead. "Kate," he exclaimed in consternation, as his sister appeared, "what is the meaning of this? What is it?" "I don't know, brother. I left the poor child quite well. Dear, iearl" "Did you hear her cry?" "I dia, and came at once. Oh, Flo, Flo, speak, dear," cried the old lady. "Tell us what it is, my darling. How like death she looks. Lift her on the sofa, brother."

As the colonel prepared to do so, he perceived a newspaper half hidden beneath the young girl's dress. "Thifi can't have been the cause," he exclaimed, seizing it. "It came to me this morning, sent by whom I can't tell, for I hadn't time to look, I was so busy. I asked Flo to scan it through, to see if there was anything, and let me know at dinner. No, it couldn't have been this."

With a nervous dread that it "was this," while speaking, the colonel had been hurriedly running his eyes over the columns of the local paper.

He had not to look far. There was the truth—the terrible truth—in the largest, blackest type: "Foundering of tne Australian ship, the Clan Buchanan. Loss of 270 lives. The coxswain alone saved." "Great Heavens!" cried the colonel, that she should have seen it first! The blow may kill her. Who—who could have been the confounded friend to send the intelligence in this way?" "What intelligence, brother? Oh, do Sp6(lk." "That the Clan Buchanan had foundered in the South Atlantic, and—and Philip Bathurst, poor lad!"—the colonel's voice trembled—"is drowned with the rest. My darling, prav Heaven to give you strength to bear this."

Stooping, he pressed his lips to her cold forehead, while two tears stood in his eyes.

Would she bear it? Would she sur]ve it?" ITlfcy were the two questions speedily .,'skedbyall at Shady Creek, where poor Flo lay delirious at times, calling upon Philip to return, at others to save ner from the fearful waves she imagined were rushing forward to overwhelm her.

But finally youth triumphed, and after a week's prostration Flo came slowly back to consciousness, aud, as it were, to life.

A week further, thin, pale, spiritless, she crawled down, with her uncle's help, to the sitting-room. "Uncle." she said, in a low tone, retaining his hand as he was gently arranging her pillows, "tell me, is there any hope that Philip might

She could not speak the word. The officer would have gladly given hone, but as ho looked into her large, wistful eyes he saw it would be a cruel kindness to do so." "No, Flo dear." he rejoined sadly. "Bear it, my darling, like the brave Christian girl you are. Itemember how manv mourn with you." "Still, I remember," falteringly, "there was one saved, uncle." "The coxswain, a young, strong athlete, and a vigorous swimmer. The ship foundered, and all perished save him."

Flo turned away her face awhile, then, without looking round said, in a low tone: "Uncle, tell me all about it thenthen I hope no one will mention it again, for—for I cannot bear it. But I must know how it happened."

The colonel made his story as brief aa he was able to. The Clan Buchanan had had a fair vovage until nearing the equator, when it was struck by a tempest of a cvclone description. For a time the ship was uvovi

II

ersisted in his taking really much needel

nurse for Flo on the sofa, while she attended to hirt, or sat side by side, hand clasped hand, eyes fixed on eyes, often lijB pressed to lips. "Philip," said Flo, "I tremble at yotr going, and vet I know you must." 1 "Indeed 1 must. But how short, lovl, will be our parting in comparison to our first!" "Yes but what may not happen in a short time? Even at tne gold-flelds yqi would have been killed out for thit good Lewis." "Truly yes but. love, the kind fortune which brought us together, preserved me *^n. Let us trust it wil continue to reserve both of us, ford not you imagine I feel anxiety for daigers you ~y:iy run here, as you for ae at mv vo

'MVU

despaired of, but finally the hurricane bad abated, and the crew and passengers were rejoicing with light and grateful hearts over their escape from death, when the heavy roll of the vessel in-r formed the practised seamen that anew danger threatened. A leak bad been sprung and the hold was rapidly filling. Men were ordered to the pumps, but it was futile

summoned to make the least injured serviceable, when, with a sudden, unexpected roll, the Clan Buchanan bad pitched forward, and as the moon broke out clear and calm over the yet ruflled waters, foundered with all bands.

Of the latter, the coxswain, a voung giant in buiid and muscle, fought his way to the surface, and, after keeping afloat for nearly an hour, was picked up by a ship that had only come a little better out of the tempest than the Clan Buchanan.

That was the story brought by an outward-bound vessel to Australia. When der.ti closes the scene no further bulletii are -isary there is no hope for those who drown in mid-At-lantic.

Flo knew it. and the resignation that is the result of utter hopelessness fell upon her. She had no tears—her grief was too deep but she resumed her usual occupations, moving about the station. calm, but the shadow of her former self. "It will be her death-blow," remarked the colonel with emotion. "Without ihe Is roused/* replied bis aister. "1: nly another affection could take the .place £f this

"AnotRer affection!" crit*d the colonel, indignantly. "What do you take Iter for? I'd hold that girl worthless. Kato. who. on the death" of one lover, could readiiy accept another in his place." "There is one who would adore liet," remarked his sister, nodding her head.

Ami the colonel confessed that so it seemed", for orce more Herbert Ajvher became a constant guest at Shady Creek never, however, intruding upon Flo. but regulating his behavior with so deep and compassionate a sympathy, that it won both her gratitude and es-

"It is the thin edge of the wedg?," he muttered one day on taking his leave." "I'll give her two or three months to overcome her grief for that fellow before I again try iier. If she still refuse me, then— What the deuce are you sneaking about me for?" he demanded angrily aloud, as Is&vc Lewis's stooped figure emerged from seme bushes close bv. "Eh? Yes fine dav very fine, Misther Archer," replied the Jew. his hand to his ear as he moved past.

Isaac Lewis had been absent from the station when the news arrived of the foundering of the Clan Buchanan. How he had received the intelligence none knew, but on his return he had apparently devoted himself to Flo, who, owing to his having saved Philip's life, had taken a great liking to him.

What the Jew did no one inquired he was sometimes whole days absent but lie was ever welcomed back. It was believed that he was not quite right in the head, as well as being deaf.

Shortly after this. Herbert Archer, who had been to Sydney, rode rapidly up to Shady Creek, and flinging his reins over the gate-post, came in haste towards the room where the family usually sat. "Uncle!" exclaimed Flo, rising, heir pale cheek flushing, her manner excited "Mr. Archer urings some news, I am sure of it. See, he has a paper in his hand, and—and I feel he would not be the bearer of bad." "Mv love, what news could he bring?" "I do not know but wait."

And expectant, Flo dropped back into her seat. "Well, Archer," remarked the colonel, meeting him, "we thought you were in Sydney." "I have just returned from there, colonel, a day earlier than I intended, for I bring, perhaps, somothing that may please Miss Grainger." "Something," murmured the colonel, while Flo again half rose. "Yes a message from the Queen a word of sympathy from her Majesty to the relatives and friends of those who were in the Clan Buchanan."

The colonel's countenance fell. "It's very kind of the Queen," he said, as he took the paper in a disappointed fashion.

Flo had sunk back, her lips trembling. "It was foolish of me to hone. Uncle was right," she thought. "What hope could there be?" "Mv darling," said the colonel, advancing, the paper in his hand, "the Queen has graciously "Yes, yes, uncle,' interrupted his niece piteously. hiding her face in her hands "I—I heard. It is thoughtful of her but. if our friends cannot console, how can she?" "It will console many, my love. Will you not read it?" "Surely, my dear, you will read her gracious Majesty's messago?" exclaimed Mrs. Crane, bustling up and touching the paper almost reverently. "1 cannot," and she waved it away. "lleally very ungrateful," ejaculated Mrs. Crane "you should look at it, child, even in compliment to Mr. Archer, who has takou the trouble to bring it." "I thank him very much," replied Flo. "I—I know I am foolish, but—but that paper seems to atouse all my sorrow. Forgive me, I shall bo better soon." and rising, she passed into an adjoining room, where, throwing herself on a couch, she found relief iu silent tears. "Very ungrateful!" exclaimed Mrs. Crane, huffed. "I hone all do not receive her gracious Majesty's message so ungraciously. Brother, give me the paper that I may peruse it. Very, very kind of the Queen, indeed-"

I had perished in the buah rather, persisted. "I, who would save you from all suffering, seem doomed to cause you the most." "No, no. indeed," she broke in, touched by the pain he betrayed. "Yes, the only consolation I have is the knowledge that you are aware how unintentionally I occasion you to suffer" "I know that, I am sure of that,* she answered impressively, as she extended her band. "I much appreciate your friendship."

For a space he retained her hand.— He was silent, then he spoke rapidly, huskily: "Miss Grainger—Florence—there was a subject upon which I gave my word never again to address you."

She made a quick movement as if to interrupt him. but checked herself. Finding encouragement in the last action. he proceeded fervently "That was when one lived who had a prior, abetter claim than mine, for he nad your love. But now a cruel fate has plucked him from you, when yet you are young, when you have so many years—years that ought to be full of Brightness and happiness—before you. Oh, Florence, may I not hope? Nay, do not answer directly think, I entreat. I do not aik for your reply whether I -ou for

our grief, my love will still be hope- ,, He had dropped on his knee, and would have retained her hand, but she had drawn it away. iu«irit»r an effort to maintain her calmness. Flo. after a pause, answered in a low, gentle yoice:

J«"s.

"I feared, Mr. Ar°her, though generously yon have pain*/d me by no word or look, that after w«/ftt has occurred you might harbor such thoughts.— Hence. I am glad you hav.e spoken, so that—that "Oh, Florence, be merciful. "It is in mercy I speak, Mr. rcher.'' she answered gently, "for it wo*.'ld be cruel to leave you undeceived. Tho ngh time may assist me in hiding my sorrow, it can never assuage it. As truer as I was to Philip when I believed onlv chance had parted us. shall I be to him now death has clone so. No, do not interrupt, I have declared that Philip not being my husband. I die unwedded. I intended you to know this, as my uncle purposed to let you know of our projected visit to England. 18 is mv dosire, my prayer, and he has granted it. We start in a mouth." 'England!

You sfiart in a month I"

Herbert Archer, springing up.

cried "Yes.' "This—this is your final determination. MiseF Grainger. I may harbor not the faintest hope?" "I shouUf but cruelly deceive ywu did I say yes." "Then I will pain you no more with my presence nevertheless, one day, Florence, you may learn how desperately I love you."

Inclining his head he passed hastily from tho room. Tho next was- stiu empty, the colonel had quitted the verandah, so unchecked Herbert Archer reached his horse and rode swiftly from the station.

A firm, set resolve was oni his dark features, and he muttered as he went: "It is well I know the truth.. I must delay no longer, but see Mat at once, for mine you shall be Florence Grainger and"—with a laugh—"by your own consent." [TO UK CONTlNl'Kt).]

Thk Ithiea N. Y., Ithican observes Our druggists report that St. Jacobs Oil goes off like hot eakes.

TIlA.DE

THE GREAT

GERMANRE

FO»

RHEUMATISM,

Neuralgia, Sciatica,

Lumbago,

Backache, Soreness

&

A faint smile twitched the colonel's features as he stepped out into the verandah with Herbert Archer. The latter, however, soon found an opportunity to leave him. and return to the apartment. Perceiving, as he had suspected, that Mrs. Crane had gone to inform the whole station of the Queen's condescension, he passed into the inner room.

At the sound of his entrance Flo looked up surprised. "Pardon this intrusion, Miss Grainger." he said quickly, deferentially "'but I could not leave ithout asking your pardon." "Pardon! Mr. Archer. Nay, I should rather seek yours. I owe you many thanks," she answered softly. "No. You were quite right not to have brought the paper,

I ought I wish he

of

tho Chest,

Gout, Quinsy, Sore Throat, Swellmgs and Sprains, Burns and Scalds, GeneraI Bodily

Pains,

Tooth, Ear and Headache, Frosted Feet and Ears, and all other Pains and Aches.

Vo Preparation on Mrth eqnsli St. atom 0ix» tnfe, nurr, thnpl* and chenp KxtTtml Bmnedy. A trial nnUlli tut tho ooinpnnittroly triniDjr outlay of &0 (nt», and «»ery ono suffering with pain can bare cheap and poeitivo proof of (U slalm*.

Direction! In Elortn T^anguagea.

BOLD-BY ALLDRU0GIBT8 A NB DEALERS IN MEDICINE.

A. VOGELER Sl CO.,

Jialtlmort, Mil., V. B.

Kl DNEY^WORT

FOR THE PERMANENT CURE DF CONSTIPATION. Mo other diaoane

la

country

ao pruvalaut in Uiin

aa

Con*tipaUoti, and no remedy

hu eve? r-quAllod tlie oolebrated KID WHEYWORT oa cure. Whatever tho oauac, boworcr obatlrale the ooeo, thla rotnody will overcome it.

Oil BTQ THIS dUtreaalwt oomI LtO pUtnt la very apt to bo complicated with oonatlpatlon. KidneyWort atronffthens the woakenod. porta and quioldy euros all kind* of Pile* even when phyaiatanji and medialn«i have before tolled. rrifyou have either of theae tronblee

USE |Drugul»7e£leIT

UilMflE

KIDNEY-WORT

TARAXINE

The Great Vegetable Liver Corrector.

Jt rontatn* tio Calomrl or 7Mln*rnl of ftnj kind, its Main /itgrtdirn( it the Coticentratr4 uh! I'rhtrlpUi of th* Taraj-iciun or iaMCMlr/u,

TARAXINE

1$ a Hprrtflr for all tn-A art tit if/ from jjTa tiged JAvrr, lirrttwU, Hplfl* or Kidnryu.

TARAXINE Cures Liver Complaint in all its

TARAXINE Never fails to enre Chronic

Ague. Try it. TARAXINE Cures Dyspepsia and

Stages.

TARAXINE Cures Habitual Constipation.

Indigestion.

TARAXINE

l* f*r Bale bw mU DmggUta and Patent MedMuo Dealert. Prictf 50 Cts. and $1.00.

A. KIEFEB,

Indianapolis, Tnd.