Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 14, Number 37, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 8 March 1884 — Page 6

•WPWu. W6SS&

THE MAIL

A PXFER.

FOR THE

disagrees!) am I to do

PEOPLC

Uftrom the Author's Advance Proof Sheeti.]

55

Mike Patchett

Eomance of the Gold Fields.

ixxuv^sxj-'«* BY B.L FARJEON.

Aotbor of "Blade o' Grass," "Grif," "Bread -%nd Cbeeee and Kiwes," "Joshua Marvel," Ac.

[The story of "Mike Patchett" was com aaenced In this paper Oct. 27th. Back nunvtan will be sent to any address on receipt of Are cents for each copy.]

CHAPTER XIx^

HORACE RETURNS HOME.

Horace did not return to England without a companion. Harried as was Ids departure from Melbourne, he was provided with a comrade in the shape of a servant. An hour before he went abroad the steamer, a man presented himself, and said that he had heard that the young gentleman was about to leave tbe colony that afternoon. "I am," said Horace, "and that is a good reason why I can't allow ray time to be wasted just now." "I will not waste a moment ef your time, sir," said tbe man, respectfully. *1 only wish to say that yon can't very well travel without a valet." "It will be awkward, certainly," said Horace, who, now that tbe idea of a valet was suggested, felt that existence •n board a steamer without one would be well nigh insupportable, "and very le and inconvenient but what

/'Take me, sir.'Mf"You Well, now, that would be accommodating—to both parties perhaps." Horace thought himself very shjrewd when be made this last remark. *'I admit it, sir it would beaservice to me as well as to youself. I am poor, and have been tin fortunate. My mother Is seriously il^at home, and I would give •my life to see her before she says goodbye to the world."

As he gave utterance to this fib, invented to fit the circumstances of the

and to provoke useful sympathy Allt. a tij&T. looked at him, captivaied by the co-in-cidence. The applicant bad a parent at home lying on a bed of sickness he himself had the same and the same motive was urging them both to England. There

the laan squeezed out

WHS

Eorace

that in tbe man's ap-

arance which favorably impressed he was poor, evidently, as he had confessed, but he was, at tne same time, respectable and well-spoken. "I will go without wages, sir," said tbe man. "All I want ia tbe passage, and I will serve you well for it.'' "Nonsense," said Horace "if I take you into my service I shall pay you, of course. Do you understand the duties of a valet?" air." -Another kb the man was not at all particular, so long as he gained his ends. "Are you a good sailor? I am a wretched one myself." "1 ought to live on the sea 1 don't know wnat it is to be siok." "Very well, I will take you, only yon will have to look sharp, as we must be on board in less than an hour so if you wish to say good-bye to your friends jou had best hurry off at onoe." "1 have ne friends, sir 1 am quite alone." "Is your trunk ready j" "I don't possess one I own nothing in the world except what I stand upright in. I shall have no difficulty in getting anything 1 require iu the way of a change of olothea." "All right, then you can stop and help me to pack, and can go abroad with me. By the way, what is your name "Flaxinan."

Thus it was that Flaxman was enabled to follow on tbe track of Peggy and ber companions, wbo had very effectually giveu him the slip, aud were now close to the shores of Old England. He had aot lost sight of her for a little while alter the night he had stolen the papers. When site left Peg lag lie had followed her, and be had watched her movements and the movements of Antonio. Suspeotlng that she was bound for England aud upon reflection deciding th*t it would be better for him lo keep near her than to open up comtnunlsationa with Hike Patonettin her absence, he reselved aot to lose sight of her, but to take passage in the vessel in which she sailed for Bngiand. Ttf accomplish this, howaver, funds were required. Of the bua«to»l pmauvi* he had obtained froua Antonio he had bare.ly thirty left the sum was ail (Helent for a steerage passage, but it be landed in England penniless be would be powerless. An idea seised him ho would go to a gambling room and multiply his thirty pounds by ten. He made his way there without contemplating the other side of the picture. Fortune did uot play with him, did not flatter him, did not lead hiin on with false hope. It was not a case of losing a little and winning a little his little fate was soon pronounced. He entered the gambling saloon at midnight with thirty sovereigns in his pocket he left au hour afterwards a complete beggar his last ahllllng was goue. He fell in with au acquaintance, and in his despair accepted an invitation to drink his friend was liberal, and tbe result was that Flaxman on that night drank himself into a delirium from which he did not recover for a fortnight. Then be discovered that Peggy bad tied and escaped him. What should he do? He had not lost the papers he had stolen, nor the disguise be had worn when he followed Antonio and Spotty to the gold diggings. Making a solemn vow not to touch another drop of diink for three months, he reasaumed his disguise and walked to Pegleg to ascertain how matters were going •an there. He learned the hopelessness •I Mike Patcbett's condition be watched he listened, he observed, without «lrawing attention upon himself and he drew certain conclusions with respect to Horace which led him to believe that it would pay him to attach himself to that yonng gentleman. While he was thus ascrsUy employed be worked as a digger hi an adjacent gully, and was lucky enough to come upon a claim which was aappoeed to be worked oat. He dlseovarea that the pillars whleh bad been lett to keep the shaft from falling ia contalned gold—not a great deal, certainly, hat sufficient to keep him aad a little

He was about to preaent.himaelf

to Horace and offer himself as a body servant when bis plan was overturned hjr Horace's abrupt departure from Feglav* He had saved just enough lo pay & fbr a seat to Melbourne la the same oaach as that in which Horace traveled, j* and he succeeded as has been told above,

Da getting engaged his valet. He in­

troduced himself to Horace in his person, without a disguise, ana thus avoided the risk, of recognition, for it was quite possible that Horace, in some chance moment, had caught sight of him during his stay on Pegleg. They got along very well together on the voyage. Flasman's duties as a valet were not heavy or difficult to learn, and he conducted himself entirely to bia young master's satisfaction. So much so, that within a few hours of the steamer's arrival at Southampton, Horace said: "Flaxman, after visiting your mother, you may remain with me if you like "I shall be happy to do so, sir," said Flaxman. "All I shall want is a couple of days to go and see my dear old mother, if you want to do without me ao long I shall feel obliged." "Take a week," said Horace.

On tbe third day after the landing he knocked at Horace's door. "You have returned earlier than I expected," said Horace, "and, I regret to see, in black." "My mother is dead, sir. Your hon ored father, sir, I trust is well." "He is not well, but he is eut of dan ger, and hopes are entertained that he may live for many years." "I trust so, I am sure, sir yet, if you will pardon me the liberty—" Flaxman pointed to the suit of black which Horarce was wearing, and to the hat with the deep crape cm it. "I have lost my brother, Flaxman. He has been dead three months.

CHAPTER

XIII.

MBS. BACHEI* WHITMABSH WBITSS TO KB. HOBACB BLAKEKSKH. Only death is certain, and it frequently comes unexpectedly to the strong and powerful, and spares the weak and helpless. It had done so in this instance. When the letters summoning Horace home were written his father, Sir Frederick Blakensee, Baronet, had been suddenly stricken down and was lying on abed of sickness from which it was not expected ho would rise and his brother, who would have succeeded to the estate aad title, was in the full flush of health, with, to all human appearance, along life before him. Yet when Horace joined his family he learnt that hia brother, whose worldly place he was now to occupy, had been dead and in his grave three months, and that his father still lived and was likely to live, though in the saddest of conditions. Between the condition of Sir Frederick Blackensee here in tbe old home, in which the family had lived for generations, and that of Mike Patchett, whom Horace believed to be at the present time on the Pegleg gold diggings, there was a very remarkable similarity which could not fail £o make an impression upon the young heir. With the circumstances and details of Mike Patohett's misfortune we are familiar those relating to the sickness of Horace's father can be briefly related.

Sir Frederick had been for a number of weeks greatly excited by the fluctuations on the Stock Exchange of certain securities in which he had largely speculated. In the end, as it happened, he was not a loser by theSfe speculations, but for some time he was haunted by a fear that they migM hia ruin. Su«h would have been tlld case had he not held on, and hit character and position otherwise might have been aflected had he not put a brave face on it in the eyea of the world. At what expense ofprivate anguish he did this successfully was known only to himself, and few who gazed upon his stalling faee during this period had any suspicion of the tortures he was suffering. The one thing he dreaded more than another was disgrace, and yet, as will be seen, there was a time in his life when he ran a dangerous risk of bringing shame and dishonor upon his name and house. He had been strangely saved by the voluntary sacrifice ol another and an innocent person, and he had accepted the sacrifice without a single word passing between him and the man who had rendered him this inestimable txuvioa. The shadow of that shame hung over him still, but no one saw it but himself. In his younger days this now proud gentleman—morbidly jealous of his honor, of his credit, of his name, which in the eyes of the world bad no stain upon it—had lived a gay and reckless life, and there were records in it which, had they been brought to light, would have caused the virtuous (by which for the most part may be understood those wbo had not experienced tbe misfortune of being "found out") to hold up their hands in righteous indignation. But those days were long passed. A new leaf had been turned over, and no prouder aaaa than Sir Frederick Blakensee, no more jealous or sensitive rsas, ne man more nigniy r«%pecied, moved in society aad walked the streets. Well for him that much of his past was hidden and unknown that a thick curtain ahut out from his life certain clrcumstaaoee which were the outcome his owa deliberate action. Only he eoald aee the dim shadows of figures behind thisaurtaia— eulr he can id draw it smile and gaaa apon those he had wronged and who had been sacrificed in bis interests. Perhaps it was the memory of these things which intensified his snfferings during the weeks in which ruin hung over him by a hair }erhaps he feared that one exposure might lead to another, and that tbe finger of soorn, pointed at him, would proclaim that not only in the present but in the,past had his life been a living lie. Whichever way it was, when the tide turned, which it did with amaxing suddenness and swiftness, in the securities in which he had speculated as largely—when in an hour he found himsely floated by this tide in a harbor of safety—the rexulaion of feeling proved too iruch for him. Accepting sn invitation to dine with friends at a club, he, in the exuberance of his emotions, indulged too freely in wine, became Incoherent in conversation, violent in action, and in a fit of excitement fell heavily to the ground while he was propositi* a toast. In the fall bis bead struck a Teg of the table, and he was carried home in an insensible state. For weeks be wavered between life and death, and when he was pronounced out of danger the doctors imparted to his family tbe intelligence that hia intellect waa imparted, and that it was not Ukely he would ever recover his reason. It would not have been otherwise than that the coincidence between his father's state and that of Mike Patchett ahould strike Horace as moat strange and singular—tbe more so because iu nla mind existed a suspicion that there was in tbe past some sort of connection between Jiis father and the Common man on Pegleg, whom he bad grown to respect ana esteem. It was whiie Sir Frederick Blakensee lay between life and death that Horace's elder br*ther was thrown from his horns aad killed, and when Horaeeentered tbe old bouse it was as tbe Mr to title and estates. Short, after his return a legal consultation had been held on the fiamlly affairs. Sir Frederick had been In the habit of keeping secret many of his business matters and speculations, and in view of his incapable condition it was advised that Horses, ss the rightful representative, ahould examine his father's pspers and act with them as bs deemed best When his motbsr nrgsd

him to this course Horace passed his fingers through his hair. •'My dear mother,'^ he said, "has it not been proved to your satisfaction that I have no head for business? It bores me—it wearies me." "I must stop you, Horace," interrupted bis mother "you are not just to yourself. You have, I am sure, an excellent head for business, snd you must exert yourself for your sake, for all our sakes. it is not," she said, raising her handkerchief to her eyes, "as if you were a younger son. You have come into responsibilities, and

Between him and his brother there had been little in common there were too many years between them to admit of a loving friendship but Horace sincerely deplored the event which had ao unexpectedly made him a child of fortune.

Two or twree days after this conversation be received a letter from Australia. It was from Mrs. Rachel Wbitmarsh, to whom, in the hurry of his departure, he had been compelled to leave the task of getting bis private and personal belongings together and sending them after bias. The letter ran as follows, snd proved to be Interesting to Horace: "DBA* AND

HONORBD SIR:

Sefrayed

Kento

TERRS HAUTE SATUM3AT fVMiM MATT,

YOU

mnst not

as a gentleman, evade them." "I have no desire to evade them," said Horace, "but, apart from tb£ ahock and tbe grief we have sustained by the loss of my dear brother, I wish with all my heart and soul that he were alive and iu bis proper place. Do not be angry, mother—I say it with all affection and respect, and it is not want of feeling that prompts the wish." "At all events, Horace, it is a proof that you are not of a selfish nature. Many brothers—beaveu forgive them— would rejoice." "So do not I. But I will not distress you, my dear mother. I will perform whatever duties are before me—only these are early days to expect me to set seriously to work. We will wait awhile If private papers are to be disturbed and examined—" "Yes, Horace, it is that. Your father baa his private safe and desk, which no hand but his has ever unlocked. We do not knew whst may be in the papers in the drawers there. The eyes of strangers must not be the first to examine them." "I agree with you. Yet I would say let us give my father a chance. Lawyers are occasionally in the wrong—doctors also. My father may yet recover." "I fear not—I fear not." "At all events, we will not be in a hurry. And as it will be a great happiness to us should the doctor's decree as to my father's condition be falsified, so it would be a great relief to him and to us in such a contingency to know that we have not too rashly intruded upon affairs which he has thought fit to keep to himself." "Horace," said Lady Blackensee, "you satisfy me in some respects, for you are the soul of honor. I beg and pray of you however, now that you represent the family, to do nothing Quixotic." "My dear mother." said Horace, gazing at her with an amused air, "do you give expression to that fear—for it is nothing less—from your knowledge of me?" "Yes, my doir Horace, from my knowledge of you." "And who should know me better than yourself, dear madam? Then I must be Quixotic by nature. I cannot see, therefore, then how I am to resist being Quixotic if the impulse comes upon me." "You must resist it, Horace, you must it is your duty." "My dear mother, it appears to me that you are giving yourself a good deal of unnecessary trouble. I recognize that there are now higher duties and graver responsibilities before me than I thought would fall to my lot. With all my heart I shall endeavor to do what is right." "Then you will do nothing Quixotic, for that would be distinctly wrong." "It is evident," mused Horace, some hours afterwards, when thinking of this conversation, "that my lady .mother In some sense distrusts me. She doubtless knows me better than I kno* myself. I even fear, if I were to set before myself, one clear rule and vow to be guided oy it, say for instance the rule of right, that I might occasionally do something to raise her displeasure. It is a most trying and perplexing situation I was certainly intended for a younger son, and, independent of natural feeling, I have been played the cruelest trick."

By tbe

sailing vessel, The Blue Jacket, which departed from our shores on tbe Tuesday of tbe present week, I have sent you your three trunks, containing every artiole oelonging to you with which for some few happy months the walla and rooms of Victoria Lodge If*ee4. Your clothes hare been -brushed aad seen to—yeur book* are wrapped in silver tissue and paper of stouter texture— and every possible care has been ta^en in the packiag of your pieturee. To eaefa one ef theee treasurea have I bidden a fend and sad adieu, aud if perohance aome traces of my tears reoaata, eacase them, I beg, dear and honored air. The willa of Viotoria Lodge are bleak and, bare tbe rooms have a mournful appear-, ance. They have suffered a bereavement from which they will never recover. It has been my bard fate through life to know happiness only to lose it, and this fate purauee me atill. But fond meaory ia mine, aud 1 will live on it. "Deer sir. in theee few foregclng linea I have not been quite ingenuous. Not every article belonging to you baa left my possession. I have ventured to retain a cabinet photograph of you, whieh I have framed and placed upon tbe wall of my private chamber. Pardon the great liberty, dear air, and permit me to look upon vour picture as a gift. The relics 1 possess and prize are few, and this is 'not tbe least valuable among them. "To proceed in order, the twenty

ounds you gave me when you left bave every ekpense connected with the packing and dispatch of your property. Nothing is owing me but your good will, of which I trust I may be ever werthy. "After your departure I heard the melancholy newa of tbe death of your brother. Keceive, dear air, tbe expression of my ardent aympathy, and allow me to express ths bepe that your honored and noble tether may long be spared to grace and ornament the family circle. "Consider it not impertinent on my

rt inquire whether, sines you have in London, you have seen saything of Miss Peggy Patebeik Living here in seeluded life, it is only by merest cbsnce that I bearserans of newa wnh which, perchance, ths whole world is familiar, and it was not until some time after your departure that I hesrd that Miss Patchett which surprised me. I wss made acquainted with other newa also, which I hasten lo communicate to you. It may not, ere ths arrival of this epistle, bave reached you, and 1 am sore it will Interest you, because it concerns one for whom—despite his low breeding —you bave a graooaa regard. I sleo hsve a regard for him, tor bs possesses qualities which needed only mrth and education to be termed noble. Tbe person 1 refer too to Mr. Michael Patcbett, ths master and disco vsrer of ths Ssersd

Nuggett. To make no mystery of it, dear sir, what I have learnt comes through a detective, who has paid me more than one visit on this particular business. "You may not be aware of It, wy dear sir, but before you left Melborne, Misa Patchett had said farewell to Australia'e shores. Supposing that tbe news baa not reached you by any other channel, is it not enough to take away your breath That she shou Id have fled while ber father was lying upon what was expected to be his death bed—that she should bave deserted him and left him to the mercy of strangers—that she should bave shewn so little appreciation of tbe love be lavished upon her (to say nothing of the money he had spent in costly jewels for her adorbment)— what, dear sir, does all this denote? Want ot heart —want of feeling. I would not be unneceesarily harsh to one of my own sex, but, above all, I must be just. Miss Patchett is the symbol of heartlessness and selfishness. Ere she had been beneath my roof a day and a night I made this discovery, but it way not my place to speak of it. 1 dreaded to lay myself open to misconstruction—I dreaded that motives might be imputed to me. It in the course I pursued you discern any symptoms of moral weakness, I entreat you to forgive me. I am but a woman, and had I been born a Sparatau I am afraid I should have been no credit to that ancient race. My beart is too yielding and susceptible it has ever been so. Miss Patcbett's conduct during the time she stayed in my Lodge with her father did not excite my suspicions—it excited my indignation but between a father and his child wbo shall interfere without a certainty of being misjudged? It needs a woman to see and underatand a woman, and I saw through her. What did I see? That she had no love for her father that the professed affection Jor him was a pretence that she cared only for his money that she was not a lady. To all this I add what distressed me most —that she was setting her cap at you. You did not see it—no gentleman ever does see these things. "Will it surprise you now, my dear sir, to learn that when Miss Patchett deserted her father and left him languishing alone on the gold fields she was not alone? Two men—I cannbt call them gentlemen—are supposed to bave fled with her'. You kney both of them. Ong was employed in the shipping office of Messrs. Law and Pardon, a red faced man who drank. The other is the Italian called Antonio, wbo came so often to Victoria Lodge courting Miss Patchett. She encouraged him and would bave encouraged a dozen more. 'What do you think, Mrs. Whitmarsh?' asked my friend the detective. •An elopement?' 'It looks like it,' I replied to him, scarcely knowing what to say, I was so bewildered at tbe news. 'Or a flight?' asked the detective, looking at me very shrewdly.

Why a flight?' I inquired. "That,' said the detective, confidentially, 'is what we bave to find out./ JThere is a mystery here it may be worth a man's while to get at it.' "It was a good many day after this conversation that tbe detective came to see me again. 'I do not visit you officially,* be said 'I have now resigned my appointment with the government ana I a in starting business on my own account.' "It was very kind of him to give me this information, though I could not quite see the drift of it. Subsequently be informed me that he had saved what be called 'a tidy sum of money' and had no need to work that what he did in the future was both for pleasure and business and that he had a great desire to serve me and my friends if it lay in his power. 'And I think it does lie in my power' be said. 'Will you be kind enough to tell Mr. Ml'cs Patchett that I wish to say a word to him?' "I was dumb-founded be spoke aa if I

Sr.

tssessed a fairy gift and eould make Patchett appear by simply calling out his name. Upon my expressing my astonishment '.he detective askea me whether Mr. Patchett and a young person who came out as maid to Miss Patchet—you remember ber, dear air her name is Madge and she is much more of a lady than her mistress—well, my friend the detective asked me point-blank whether they were not staying with me. To cut along story short, Mr. Patchett and Madge have disappeared from the Pegleg gold diggings and have not been beard of anywhere. Mystery of mysteries! Subsequently, my dear sir, I have formed the opinion, through tbe detective, that they also have left the colon 1. 'It Mr. Patchett has gone,' said the detective, 's*eretlv and surreptitoualy, he has done a darling and dangerous thing. What the consequences may be. should the attention of the authorities be drawn to hia proceedings, I would not like to say.' "There mysterious words alarmed me, but the detective deelined—fer prudential reasons, he said—te give tae any information to allay both my curiosity and my agitation. 'All that I want you to underatand,' he ssld, 'is thst I anal be glad in this matter to do you and any friends of yours a service.' "Then, dear sir, he mentioned your name, and asked me whether it would be agreeable to your feelings, If he 'took the matter up'—I use his own words— and prevented further trouble from falltbe upon the head of tbe unfortusste Mr. Pstchett. I answered that I was sure you would appreciate any such service—and that you would be glad yourself of serving him. Upon that, tbe detective asked me for your home address, and I gave it to him. He left me, and I bave not seen him aince. For your own guidance I may inform you that the detective's name is Carden, his Christian name, James. "Excuse the length of the epistls. I should eeteem it sn honor if you would acknowledgle it, however briefy. "Believe me, dear snd honest sir, with great esteem and respsct, ever to be,

Your obedient servant, BACBKE. WXITMABSX."

CHAPTER XLII.

A STABTLISO

BKVBI.ATIOK.

Two days sfter the receipt of this lsttsr a card wss brought to Horace, as that of gentleman wbo wished to see bias on business of importance. Ths card bore the nsme of Mr. Jsmes Garden. "Shew him up," said Horace, aad ths man wss shown in.

Mr. Jsmes Carden waa in the region of tbe fifties, and there waa nothing in his sppearance to denote that he pad been fat a number of years in tbe defective service. He bsd a clear, open face and a dear, bright eye, and his manners were those of a man In tbe middle class. You might have takea him for a tradesman in a fair way of business, far a retired pawnbroker, for a literary man. for a man wbo dabbled in politics or adeaee, even for a philanthropist. There Is a much of muchness aboaihamsa be* iog, scd It is only tbe clever ones of tbe earth who, when they are introduced to a notability, make the declaration,^'Yoa have only to look at his faee to ses that bs Is something out sf the eommoa." I

"I make no apology for intruding on you," said Mr. Carden,"and you can get rid of me at onoe if you wish." "We^illsee presently," said Horace, "when you have disclosed your business. You can take a chair," "Thank you," said Mr. Carden, resting bis band on the back of a chair, but not seating himself, "but it will be so much waste time unless I can open my budget. Can you spare me half an hour or perhaps longer "Yes, if your budget interests me." "That will be for you to detei mine. I must ask that we shall be quite private."

Horace went to the door and locked it saying: "Probably that will satisfy you." "It does. I do nothing without reason the business I come upon is not my own, and as it concerns others I must, so to speak, protect them up to a certain point." "How long have you been in England Mr. Carden "I came by the Overland mail, sir— arrived two days ago." "Yes, that is correct. I am in some sense prepared for your visit. In a letter I received from Mrs. Wbitmarsh, of St. Eilda, your name is mentioned." "I thoueht it would be, sir, and it partly clears tbe way. Mrs. Whitmarsh gave me your address." "So I understand." "It will save a lot of talk if, as I guess, you are aware that I am here to see you with reference to Mr. Mike Patcbett's affairs." "I am aware of it. Presently I shall have a question or two to put to you." "Put them now, sir: it will be a further clearing ot the way I will answer you frankly." "You were in the detective service in the Colony "Yes, I went to Melbourne four years ago from the detective office here. I can show you letters of recommendation which may satisfy you that I am to be trusted and depended upon." "You may leave them with me I will look through them after you go, and you can have, them when you call to see me again."

Without hesitation, Mr. Carden produced a packet which he banded to Horace, who took it and laid it aside. "How long have you been a detective?" asked Horace. "A matter of twenty-six years." "Are you still in any public service here or in the colonies?" "No, sir I have resigned, I have saved a bit of money and I am going to start a business of my own—a private business for private gentlemen. London offers the finest field, so I start in London, and I am lucky enough to commence with a good job. I take it up on chance, but I am much mistaken if ii will not pay me well—for peculiar reasons, sir, for very peculiar reasons." "I will not inquire into them further than to aBk whether it is to serve or persecute Mr. Patchett you undertake this job for it is bis if I understand you aright." ••Yes, sir, it is his, and I undertake it to serve him and perhaps you." "How can you serve me in this matter That is a point I fail to grasp." "We will say indirectly, sir you being pleased, taking the interest in him that you do, if I can save him from danger." "Doea danger threaten him, then "It does a man who knew what I know might do him a power of barm if be he was inclined. He has, to my knowledge, dene you a service.'* "In what way?"

A

"Well, there was that night at the Bull and Mouth, when you had lost a little fortune to the Italian, Antonio, and Mike Patchett had won it back for you, and some hundred pounds in the bargain." "You know that?" exclaimed Horace in astonishment. "Yes, sir, and a deal more that would surprise you and many other people. You see, it is our business to get hold ot things, if only for future reference. Well, then, Bir, does it strike you that you owe Mr. Patchettr—whose right name is Purdy, mind you, though we'll continue to call him Patchett—something in return for that service?" "I certainly do," said Horace, thoughtfully, "and I should be glad of the opportunity of repaying him." "You can do that eaaily." "How?" "By allowing me to put your name down as my first client. By making this particular business relating to Mike Patchett your business instead of mine. It is undertaken for his good—I pledge myself to thst. I won't disguise from you thst it is delicats snd peculiar, and that it would reveal my conscience—I've got one, sir—If instead of being a principal In I am abeut to do, v«u, by bvcoming my client, turn me into su

clpsiTn1what what I am abeut to do, vou, by bvcoming my client, turn me int agent. Then, any information I may get will be yours, not mine I shall not be free, without yoar instructions, te act upon aav discovery 1 may make. It may be—I'll not aay it will be, but it ma. be—thst you will have eeuse tb thank me ous day for sskiag this favor •t yea. 1» pasties you, perhsps, my ssying that it would be a relief to my conscience. I will explsin. I'vs been in tbe government service, snd it might be thrown in my teeth thst I had no right to keep anything I may discover from tbe government. Being employed by a private geutleman I've got my answer. I am an agent, employed on secret service, and wbat I find out doesn't belong to me. So my conscience will be free. Of couise, youTll be free to act as you think fit."

Thers waa something in Mr. Cardan's manner which impressed Horace mors than the apoken worda, and after a few moments' consideration, during which Mr. Carden preserved silence. Horses said "Let it be ao. I employ you as my agent iu this matter and accept the responsibility. It is only from an extreme vague idea that 1 may be able to benefit Mr. Patchett in aorns mysterious wsy thst I do this. "Of course, sir. We will look upon it ss settled, .then. 1 am acting as your agent in Mr. Patebett's affairs. Do you know tbat he baa returned to England?" "Do you know it?" •'Yee, but I have not yet get oa hia track. A young lady named Msdgeisbis nurse ana oompsuiourr It is said be ia ontof hia mind. All tbe more reason that be should bs looked after. There are other persons to look sfter as well— Antonio,tbe Italian, and Misa Patchett. The truth must be arrived at. Ths fleered Nugget must be found. In ebort I bsvs my bands full and it is just wbat I like." He psused a moment and looked with some curiosity at Horace. "Mr. Blacksnsee,"be then ssld. "it will not be bindersocs to me if you were to make ase acquainted with anything ia your knowledge relating to Mr. Patchett'ehistory." "I bsvs notnlng to communicate,' ssld Horace "it eeema to me »bst you know all that has passed between him and ase ia the eoloalee." "Yea, In tbe colonies—I think I know all that has pessed between yon. But aow tbat you know his nsme is Purdy. and not rochett, yos recognise him, of course." "You speak la enigmas. I never saw Mr. rstcbstt before called upon me

at a certain shipping office in. M&bourne." $ "Perhaps not, sir your word is not to $ be doubted. But you must bave beard of him." "Never.""Never!" echoed Mr. Carden. Never heard of Michael Purdy "No, I never heard the name." "Not in your own family "No." "Your respected father, Sir Frederick surely he must at some tlo have tioned him "Why should my father have tioned him I do not in the least understand you." "Yet it is certain," said Mr. Carden, slowly, rising as if to leave, "that in hi» younger days Michael Purdy was Us your father's service." "You are jesting, Mr. Csrden." "If truth is a jest, sir, I am jesting. It is an undoubted fact that for manyyears Michael Purdy was your fathers servant—and what is more singular* speaking of it aa we are speaking now, was in a certain sense a confidential servant. It Is singalar, is it not, sir, that you should learn this to-day for the firat time." "It is very aingular," said Horaca thoughtfully. "I have heard, sir, that you entertain a high opinion of Mr. Patchett." "From what I have sees of him I cannot but have a sincere respect for him.**" "It is not by an unlucky chance, tbea,. Mr. Blakensee that I called upon yos on this particular business." "I regard it as a fortunate chanee, Mr. Carden, and I thank you for it. Doyo* know why Michael Purdy, or Patchettleft my father's service "It is a reasonable question, sir,, considering that you were ignorant ot theconneetion. The law compelled.him to leave it." f£ I "Tbe law!"

FORMXBIIT

Such

vt!,

"Yes, sir, the law. I can tell you the story in a very few words. A check for a vary large amount was drawn upon a bank, and was cashed across tbe country by Michael Purdy. The exact sum wasfour thousand pounds, and itywas paid partly in|gold, partly in Bank of England notes. On the same day these Bank of England notes were changed for gold at the Bank of England, and the man who changed them was Michael Purdy. In this way, sir, he obtained possession of four thousand sovereign* That i» clear to yon." "Quite clear. Go on." "The rest is very simple. A few daya afterwaids it was discovered that thesignature was a forgery." "Who forged it?" "Michael Purdy." "Impossible! You are dreaming!'' "Not at all. It is all set down in print.,

Pr

At tbe trial Michael Purdy confessed I that he forged the signature by pleading

guilty. The end of it was t^a't he

sentenced to transportation for life. That is where the danger lies. He, a life' oonvict, has returned* te England without leave or pardon." "But he is innocent, Mr. Carden," cried Horace in a tone ol great excitement. "I must use your own word, Mr. Blakensee—isapossible. The law, by bis' admfision, pronounced him guilty, and' he received Lis sentence." "I tell yoa again,'' said Horace, with flashing ees "tbat is impossible. Ha was unjustly condemned. He cannotbave forged tbe signature, for he cannoteven write his owu name."

So great waa Mr. Cardan's astonishment that he literally gasped. "Do yon know of your own knowledge?" haasked presently^ "I know it," replied Horace, of my own knowledge. The man can neitb«r read nor write. How is it possible, then, tbat he ean have been guilty of thmcrime A gross In justice—a wicked injustice—has been perpetrated and tha wrong must be- righted. I Insist upon it. More than ever now must this po6r man be found. Lose not a moment. Do not spare money—here is a cheek for a hundred pounda to c»rry you on for th» present—and the sooner ybu bring tnefece to face with Mr. Patchett, tba larger will be your reward." rger will be your reward." '•You may depend upon me,"sir."said' Mr. Carden aa he left the room "not a moment shall be lost." [conwurusD *«XT was*.J

weak, nervons, dyspeptic

and debilitated individuals who found only disapointment in the variona* bitters anu secretquask nostrums, pretended kidney medicines, etc., areagreeably surprised to regain perfect health and strength of mind and body, snd complete heart's eaae and freedom from aches and pains by the use of Dr. Guysott's Yellow Dock and Sarsaparilla. It re«torM every disordered function t*--a aormal eeadftion. 3

IIIUIUIIIIUIillUliBIIMBW'WWi

The Rev. J: E. Searlcs, of New York, i» one of the most Widely-known and highly esteemed of Methodist ministers.

Mr. Be&rlM Mrs :"I«m lmpwswd thst it tesftrty I owe to those afflicted ^with Bhemnatlim B-is, to ur that remedy baa been dlaoovered thatte wdeo a marrrloua auccesa. My aoa 'wae •ifiictad with llheumattjm, and •pffei^ ao aeTwwtr that, at times, he was obliged to haw mpnhto« tsJected Into his arm to get wlirf.Whlle intto addition he discoveredsmnedywhl^effecljdtaiujOlate relief, and a permanent enre. He baa idshed It to miwy othew with the same result I har» also furnished ii to an amber of P^cts with Rheumatism, and the result has 52 relief, snd a permanent cure, AmmrotiMOT, I S*w* to Iter. Wm P? Orbit, pastor of UieOegnrB St. M- K. Church, New H»vcn.C0Dn.,wb0WMWfferiiWKTO^Jr with thJ* terrible dueaae. words as writtam to my tont wlnhlngjtlip lojffMgg the fact for ths benefit of others suffering with tb» •eme disease."

What Bir. Carbit Hojst Hew Haten, Jul/ J4.1Stt

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