Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 19, Number 36, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 2 March 1889 — Page 2

Author

of

"Great

Porter

CHAPTEU VII.

In the morning my wife and I had a conversation about Samuel Fleetwood. Desiring to pay every attention to Mr. "Wilmot during bis stay with us, we thought it would add to his comfort if we assigned to Fleetwood the office of attending solely upon him. With the intention of apprising Fleetwood of his new duties, I was on the point of summoning him, when, he made his appearance. "Are you better this morning, Mr. Fleetwood?" asked my wife.

He replied, in a grateful voice, that he felt easier, and thanked her feelingly for some soup and jelly which she herself had prepared for him. My wife had hat perfect knowledge of household duties and that perfect mastery of them which add so much to the comfort of a home. In soups, jellies, preserving, and pickling she was pre-eminent, ami it was often a pleasure to her to busy herself in these agreeable services. "I shall continue to make soup and jelly," she said to Fleetwood, "and other things as well, which'you must take. Kuowing that I have specially prepared them for you, you will not neglecv them." "Everything that come from yen, madam," replied Fleetwood, "is valued and honored." "These things will* make yon strong," said my wife, "and assist yonr recovery to perfect health."

There was uo monrnfulness or repining In the smile with which he answered her it was gentle and resigned. "We are in God's hands, madam," he Said.

She gave him a compassionate look, and then, in her presence, I told Fleetwood what wo had resolved upon with respect to Mr. Wilmot. He expressed a cheerful acquiescence, and promised to do everything that lay in his power for our expected visitor. "He is an old gentleman," I said, "and may require attendance in the night. You will sleep in the room adjoining his.'* "Yes, sir," said Fleetwood: and, the matter being settled, my wife left us, having household duties to attend to. "You have something to say to me," I said, observing that Fleetwood lingered. "I was coming to seek you, sir," was his response. "I found these in the garden this morning."

He produced my cigar-case, with its monogram of raised silver letters, and a lady's silver back-comb of peculiar de sign, which Mdlle. Rosalie usually wore in her hair. "Why do you bring me this combf" I asked. "It belongs to Mdlle. Rosalie." "I know, sir but the two were lying together, and I thought it right to bring them both to you."

His manner was not offensive, but it struck me as being more than ordinarily «nd. "There is nothing right or wrong in it," I remarked. "It is a simple accident that these two articles were found together. I must have dropped my cigar-case as I was walking in the garden last night" It impressed itself upon me here that speaking on the subject was unconsciously causing me annoyance, and I said a little testily "Take the comb to Mdlle. Rosalie, and tell her where yon found it." "I beg you to excuse me, sir," said Fleetwood, respectfully, "and to give the task to another person."

I was reminded of the promise I had tacitly convoyed to Mdlle. Rosalie that I would set her right with the man who regarded her with suspicion. "Fleetwood, you do not like Mdlle. Ros* •lief" "I have the strongest dislike to her, sir." "It has grown." "I own to it, sir—to something almost like aversion." "A short time since you communicated your dislike and suspicious to me. Time has notsofteued them?" "It has strengthened them, sir. Perhaps 1 am wrong," and here ho hesitated with an expression of pain in his face, "in speaking to you about Mdlle. Rosalie." "Not at all. Goon, Fleetwood, if you have anything more to say." "The uew man in tho garden, sir—Redwing—is the man she meets in secret in Ivybush Iane." "I am aware of it."

Hitherto his eyes had been averted from roc now (hey were turned towards me in astonishment. "I beg your pardon, sir," he said, "for interfering.'' "There is no question of interfering, Fleetwood," I said. "It is that we have done a young 1 miy an injustice. What I am about to couilde to you is a secret and, as it is not our secret, it must be respected. Mr. Redwing—it is, possibly, not his real name. but. in the circumstances, he may be excused for assuming ft-—is not Mdlle. Rosalie's lover. He is her brother." "Indeed, sir!" said Fleetwood, in a tone of constraint. "She has disclosed to me certain particulars of her past life which have satisfied me that we have not done her justice—you aud 1.1 mean. My wife and daughter are very fond of her. There is no need to say any more, is there?" "Xo, sir it is not for me to continue to harp upon the matter. But I cannot undertake to like her." "I will not attempt to force your inclination but I wish it were otherwise. Only you must not show any open dislike to her." "I will bear in mind what you say, sir."

With that he took his departure, with, as I rightly divined, a feeling of discontent in his mind, which, I confess, was my feel 1 ng also. Fleetwood's manner had not entirely pleased me.

Later in the day I gave Mdlle. Rosalie her silver back-comb, "O. than! you so much!" she exclaimed. "I was wondering what had become of it. Who found It?" "Samuel Fleetwood," I replied. "Ah!" she said, thoughtfully "he Is no friend of mine, and would do me an Injury if he could. But I am armed now," she added, with a bright look "you are my friend."

Day after day passed, and we heard nothing more of Mr. Wilmot We were, however, quite prepared for his arrival. A unite of rooms was ready, and every morning Eunice placed freak {towers in them.

s. ?r

rff43?

BY B. L. FAR EON

Square," "Grif," "Blades-o^-Gr&sa," Hearts," Devlin the Barber," Etc.

"The Nine of

I heard her and Mdlle. Rosalie conversing about my uncle. "This Mr. Wilmot," said Mdlle. Rosalie, "is he very, very rich?" "So papa says," replied Eunice. *'A millionaire, perhaps?" *11* "Perhaps." said Eunice, latighlng. •,{ "He must be very good, then'." "How is that?" ^1*.,', v, "All rich men mnst be. They cannot help it"

This was an unsophisticated view, and it brought a smile to my own lips. On the Wednesday in the following week, the three ladies and 1 were standing on the lawn in front of the house. Mr. Mortlock was absent, and we were not sorry. "Papa," said Eunice, "is Mr. Wilmot ever coming? He seems to have forgotten his promise." "Mr. Wilmot never forgets a promise, Eunice," I said.

As I spoke we all turned our heads in the direction of the gates, being attracted by the sound of animated voices and footsteps and presently two gentlemen came in view—Mr. Mortlock, and an old gentleman leaning on his arm. I knew my uncle instantly, although I saw at a glance that he had aged since we last met, and I hastened to meet him. "Have I taken you by surprise, nephew Richard?" he asked (he had always addressed me thus.) "But friend Mortlock knew I was coming by this train."

A pang of mortification shot through me. Why had "friend Mortlock" known, and not I Why was he the chosen one? I concealed my mortification, however, and expressed my delight at seeing him. He nodded, and nodded—he was a little spare man, with not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his bones, and his head seemed to be set on springs—and shook hands with me cordially, and greeted my wife and kissed her, and then, holding Eunice's two hands in his, kissed her also. "The privilege of old age, my dear," he said. "And you are Eunice. You have grown into a very lovely young woman. We shall be the best of friends—the best of friends. You have a pretty place here, nephew Richard, and it is well looked after. That is what I like to see. I beg your pardon."

These last words were in reference to Mdlle. Rosalie, who stood a little in the background. I Introduced her. "How do you do—how do you do?" he said, nodding at her as he had nodded at us. Once set going, it seemed difficult for him to stop. "Lenormand—Lenormand. I know a family of that name in Versailles. Any relation?" "I have no relations, sir," said Mdlle. Rosalie, adding, with a glance at me, "out of England." "Indeed, indeed," he said, "no relation out of England? Nephew Richard, I want to walk through your grounds, but first I wish to place this in safety." He motioned to Mr. Mortlock, who came forward with a dispatch-box, which I had observed he was carrying. "There is money in it, nephew Richard. I never travel without money. It is the open sesame everywhere, even among savages, my dear"—this to Eunice, "I have seen many, and it is surprising how quickly they learn the value of money." "Your rooms are ready, sir," I said. "Will you see them now?" "At once—at once. Carry the box for me. No, do not trouble, my dears. Nephew Richard and I will go alone we will rejoin you presently."

We went up to his rooms together, and I was glad to hear him say that they were pleasantly situated. "I hope you will make along stay with us," I said. "That depends—that depends. Let me thank you now for your courtesy to my friend Mortlock. He Is full of your praises, of yours and your good family's. A charming gentleman—an exceptionally charming gentleman. Do you not think so?"

To please him I replied, in as cheerful a voice as I could command, that Mr. Mortlock was a charming gentleman. "That is as it should be—as it should be, I have a great regard for him, the greatest regard. I knew that you would be great friends—great friends. Place tho box there —there, by the side of my bed, at the head. That is the spot Thank you! Now we will go down to the ladies."

With polished politeness he offered ray wife and Eunice each an arm, and we all strolled through the grounds, at the beauty of which he expressed himself much gratified. Samuel Fleetwood approached us. "Here is a faithful servant, sir," I said, beckoning to Fleetwood, "who will wait upon you and attend to your wishes while you remain with us. We thought it likely you might come without a valet" "I have—I have," said Mr. Wilmot "I discharged my scoundrel only yesterday he had been with me fifteen years, and I discharged him at a moment's notice. Disregarded my orders, the scoundrel! Away he went—to the right about. Had he not disobeyed me, I should have provided for him. I am not the best-tempered man in the world I know my feelings—I must have my way I iritt have my way. Ah! I know what is in your mind. Right or wrong? Yes» right or wrong? I must have my way. Too old to learn. I am fixed-fixed—fixed, like an ancient tree. Ladies, you must not be displeased to learn that I am a very wilful, hot-headed, old gentleman. That is why I never married I should have made my wife miserable, so one woman was spared. It wa? very thoughtful of you, nephew Richard, to give me a new valet Fleetwood—h» that yonr name?" "Yes, sir." said Samuel Fleetwood. "Good name—good name I shall not forget it I never forget anything. Twr trunks and a valise of mine have by this time arrived at the house: I told the scoundrels if they used despatch they should have half-a-«overeign. Here It is. give it to them, and take my belongings to rav rooms n^d arra-m th'~^s. Here are I-*, keys Yt torn ny ers, only my clothes and {Hinted books."

Fleet. od 1 off, and my uncle followed w.„. his eyes. "Seems a willing scoundrel," he said. "Had him long, aei li: hard?" "A a—(t nri~y ywis, su." "Fai ul, say?" "As faithful a man as breathes.** "Good character?" "The best"

«3S

JHBJRRE HATTTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL.

He nodded and kept on nodding, till Eunice, selecting a small white rose, put it in his buttonhole. "Thank you, my dear: I like attention. But why not one to your father?'*.

Smilingly she picked a flower, and put tt in my coat v'And why not one for friend Mortlock?" said my uncle.

With a heightened color and biting her lip, Eunice gave Mr. Mortlock a rose. He made no demur that she did not fasten it in his coat as she had fastened my uncle's and mine but he took his reyenge by placing the rose to his lips before he put it in his buttonhole.

Mr. Wilmot laughed. "O, youth, youth!" he exclaimed: '•inestimable, priceless treasure, that can so invest with magic qualities a simple rose' Will science ever lead to the discovery of the elixir. Nephew Richard, I have in my despatch-box five thousand pounds. I would give it cheerfully for a year of life: I would give all my wealth, and stand a beggar in naked feet, if I were twenty once more. My dear niece"—and it was mark of graciousness on his part to so address my wife—am, as you see, fond of life It is all we have." "Not all." said my wife, raising her eyes to the bright heavens. "Yes, yes. yes," he respond nodding and nodding "but some believe one way some another. I quarrel with no man'* opinions on politics or theology, nor will I be quarreled with. My time is too 3hort, and I would enjoy every minute left to me. My health is perfect, aud I am only enfeebled physically by old age. I have nourish ad the juices of my body by the generous juices of Nature. By the way, nephew Richard, some of my own wine will arrive here this evening in time for dinner." "My cellar is small," I said, "but It contains a few bottles of good vintages." "I have better," he responded, "and you yourself shall be the judge. It is a lovely day the air here is pure and salubrious and beauty accompanies me." He bowed gallautly to Eunice and her mother, and continued to enliven the way by similar chatter, to which we listened without a sign of dissent, as we were In duty bound to do but I, being able to interpret what was hidden from all otbors, except perhaps Eunice, saw that my uncle's utterances were disquieting to ray wife and it was upon her advice, "to say nothing to him to-dav of Eunice's engagement," that I made no reference to what was nearest to our hearts.

In the evening, when dinner was over, Harry came, and was duly introduced. "Clanronald!" exclaimed Mr. Wilmot he eyed Harry narrowly, and there was a shade of displeasure on his face. "Clanronald? Ah!"

Then he looked at Eunice, who was blushing and ill at ease, and at Harry again, who was nervous and awkward in the presence of a stranger who seemed to be criticising him, and not favorablyr and then he turned his sharp eyes upon Mr. Mortlock, who met them smilingly, whereat Mr. Wilmot smiled, and nodded and nodded with great vivacity. These two appeared to understand each other without speaking. When his fit of nodding was over, my uncle, undoubtedly with malice prepense, claimed Harry's sole attention, leaving Mr. Mortlock the task of entertaining Eunice. I am sorry to say that this made Harry sullen, and his behavior was certainly not calculated to Impress Mr. Wilmot favorably. However, this did not appear to displease my ancle, who took Harry as his partner in a rubber of whist, and even when Harry revoked it did not ruffle him. After the rubber my uncle proposed a game of chess, and checkmated poor Harry in twelve moves. Then my uncle called upon Mr. Mortlock to furnish entertainment, and this gentleman, with great willingness, applied himself to the task, and surprised us with a display of accomplishments of which he had hitherto made no parade. He related story after story he gave imitations of singular people he had met in his travels he sang in French, German, and Italian, and accompanied himself with the skill of a master. My wife, as I observed, disapproved of some of these songs, but Mr. Wilmot shook with laughter. Mdlle. Rosalie was called upon to contribute to the entertainment, and she sang admirably, and with great spirit At length, to our relief, the evening came to an end. Harry had said good-night and had gone home unhappy, Eunice was miserable, and my wife and I were filled with disquieting reflections. Only Mr. Wilmot and Mr. Mortlock seemed to have enjoyed themselves and to have passed a pleasant time. My uncle bade Eunice and her mother good-night, and said that he foresaw that his visit would be eminently agreeable,"' "I breakfast late." he said. "Nephew Richard, you will see me to my room."

Fleetwood was there when we reached it, arranging Mr. Wilmot's things for the night. Upon our entrance he retired, through a communicating door, into his own adjoining bedroom. "To-morrow, nephew Richard," said Mr. Wilmot "we will speak of matters of business, upon which I have no doubt we shall agree. There is a small task I wish you to assist me in to-night. Lift my despatch-box on the table. Thank you. Here is the key. Unlock it Always on the first night of my arrival in a new place I see that my money and valuables are safe. You will see a cash-box there. Yes, that is it This key, with a piece of blue ribbon rouud it, will open it Now. let us count."

Together we counted the money in the cash-box. There were exactly five thousand pounds—five hundred sovereigns, and four thousand five hundred in Bank of England notes. The cash-box contained also several articles of jewelry of considerable value, one of which, a single-stoned diamond ring, the jewel in it being of extraordinary brilliancy, although not large, he put on his finger. Before the money ana jewels were replaced in the box Mr. Wilmot called Fleetwood into the room, and he saw them spread out on the table. When they were all safely packed away, my uncle said: "Do not let me he disturbed in the morning, nephew Richard. I never allow my­

self

to be called or disturbed. Nature informs me when I have had sufficient rest.

Tell

your good lady that I shall not participate in the family breakfast Somewhere about one o'clock in the day we will have our chat. Good-night"

On my way to my bedroom I encountered Mdlle. Rosalie, and bade her goodnight "Good-night, sir," die said. "What a charming gentleman Mr. Wilmot is, and what a deiigh tful evening we have passed!" Then she whispered, "I ought to tell yon, sir, that I have not had the courage yet to tell Mrs. Pardon my secret I am writing out my life, which I shall give her to read.

3SS

'M

andtEen she will know afl." I nodded, and left her. I had matters of greater importance to think of than Mdlle. Rosalie's small family secrets.

CHAPTER VIII.

NoSr^ said my uncle on the following day, when we were together in his room, "we will have our chat. I shall be glad to get it off my mind, and you will, too. First let me express my approval of my new scoundrel. Fleetwood. When I leave you, I shall be almost inclined to tempt him to accompany me." "He has heart-disease," I said, "and, I am afraid, has not long to live." "It is a pity, for he seems to be all "you represented him. He has been assisting me in. my money matters this morning. 1 have also had a visit from Mdlle. Rosalie. A charming person—a very charming person. Most persons are who take the trouble to make themselves agreeable, and who do not cross you." He held up his hand, and looked at the diamond ring on his finger which he had placed there the previous night He had a remarkably white and shapely hand, of which he was evidently proud and, indeed, wizened and pinched up as he was, he must in hisyoungey years have been a handsome, brighteyed man. "By the way, nephew Richard, the young gentleman who was here last night and revoked at whistf Have yon known him long?" "For somewhat over two years," I replied. "But my letter has explained—" "What letter do you refer to?" asked Mr. Wilmot. "The letter I sent you a Httle while since, to the care of your lawyers in London—" "Ah, those letters!" said Mr. Wilmot, interrupting me again with a smile, "Would you believe, nephew Richard, that there are two boxes full of them— actually two boxes full?- I burst out laughing when I saw them, and"I quickly locked the boxes again. Life is too short for correspondence—and such correspa" dence! Circulars, beggiug letters, requests for loans—no, no! I declined to wade through them. Wheu I return to Loudon I shall instruct someone- to separate the wheat from the chaff, and then probably burn the lot—positively burn the lot without looking at them."

I was seized with consternation. My uncle had not read my letter announcing Eunice's engagement with Harry Clanronald he was in ignorance that Eunice's heart was pledged to the young fellow and he was now in my house with the intention of promoting Mr. Mortlock's suit. I was convinced of it, and presently the proof came, and left no shadow of doubt behind. "A great many years ago," said my uncle, "I was acquainted with a Mr. Clanronald, whom I have no reason to think well of. If it is the same, he is this young man's father. Perhaps you have a photogragh of him?" "I have. Would you like to see it?" "Yes." '',Yf

I went to tfie* drawing-room, and," selecting the album In which Mr. Clanronald's portrait was placed, I took it up to Mr. Wilmot. My mind was filled with misgivings, for my uncle's voice, when he spoke of Mr. Clanrouakl, boded ill. "Let me find the portrait for myself," he said and I handed him the album. As he turned over the pages I felt that consequences almost vital were trembling in the balance. "Yes," said Mr. Wilmot, pausing *at a page, "this is the man—it is he!" He nodded and snarled at the bit of pasteboard. "Let us bo sure. This is the father of the young man who played what he called chess with me last night?" "Yes."

He closed the book. "Nephew Richard, you and I do not know much of each other." "Not as much as I should have desired, sir.", wAf

1

"Well, well. Perhaps a closer acquaintance was not to be desired. Perhaps we have been better friends apart. It is often the case—often the case. I like you I like your wife I like your daughter. There are one or two others I like—only one or two. I like Mortlock you like him, too Jrou said he was a charming gentleman. So he is—charming. There are men I dislike—some more, some less. They do not trouble me, because I do not allow them to trouble me. I wipe them out. I do not express my dislike I do not as much as think of them, unless they happen to be forced upon me. As in this case, I dis» like your Mr. Clanronald, much more than less. I will not enter into the reasons for my dlsllke they are private and delicate, and are, to me, sufficient. That much being said, we dismiss the Clanronalds. Let me never hear their name again." "But, sir," I said, in a helpless tone of remonstrance, for hope seemed surely slipping from me, "it fs of this very Harry Clanronald I must speak." "Pardon me," he said, in a tone of extreme politeness, and had I been better acquainted with his character I should have known that this was in him a dangerous sign. "I do not see the necessity. Let us, at all events, first speak of what will be mutually agreeable—mutually agreeable. I present myself to, you as. an ambassador." "As an ambassador?" I stammered. "As an ambassador," he repeated blandly. "I have the honor to ask the hand of your lovely daughter Eunice for my dear friend Mortlock." I gazed at him in a kind of despair he continued: "He is- a gentleman a man of good family a travelled man a cultured man a man of parts, and I like him. When I introduced him to you and your delightful family I had a latent hope that he would fall in love with your daughter. It has happened. I did not say to him, 'Go to England go to Boscombe Lodge, Sevenoaks, and make a friend of my nephew Richard, and there behold a fresh and budding type of English beauty In the person of my nephew Richard's charming daughter Eunice.' I might have said as much, having, before I left England, received a picture of your daughter, for which, I think, I have not thanked you, and in which I discerned a bud that would blossom into a rare loveliness but I did say to friend Mortlock, •Nephew Richard has a daughter it is time you should settle down.' What I hoped has come to pass, and I approve/' **What you ask," I said, "isimpossible." "How impossible?" "Eunice does not love Mr. Mortlock. Her heart Is given to another." "To whom." "To Harry Clanronald." "A childish fancy," said my uncle, ••which will soon pass away. She cannot marry him." ••She can," I said, firmly, "and shall." "She must not nephew Richard." "She must* ancle. She fs pledged. I know the nature of my child. She will never wed another."

He did not lose his temper, bat I saw a

sr**

change come over his face. His sharp eyes grew sharper and smaller, and this diminishing sign, if I may so express it, distinguished all his features. His wizened face grew still more wizened, his mouth seemed to contract, his nostrils to become thinner, and when he spoke again his voioe was cold, clear, and precise, and seemed to come through lips of steel. "Nephew Richard, I was right when I said we do not know much of each other. Even if I had not set my heart upon this match, I would never consent to your daughter marrying young Mr. Clanronald: but I have set my heart upon it and if you are prudent you will range yourself on my side. You shall not be in the dark, whichever way you decide. I will be very —I trust not painfully—explicit. It is in no petty or boastf nl mood that I say I have behaved well to you and yours." "You have behaved, sir," I said, "most liberally, most generously. A lifetime of gratitude could not repay you." "I will be content wifeh less," he said, dryly. "There is not-Dutch merit in what I have done what you have received from me I could well spare. In all my life I have really loved but one human being— your mother, my only sister. When your father fell Into misfortune I resolved upon my course and once resolved, nephew Richard, it meeds, indeed, a powerful reason to move me. Oblige me by unlocking my despatch-box." He paused occasionally, as I attended to his instructions. "Beneath the cash-bos are some papers tied round with red tape. Bring them forward. Lawyer's papers, nephew Richard. Lock the box again. Untie the papers, and take from them tho largest and most important. It is my will. You may read it if you like." "Excuse me, sir. I shall feel more at my 'ease if I do not." "As you please. It is my will, making you my heir to the greater portion of my property. For what I have done for you— for what I have cheerfully and ungrudgingly done, I have never asked from you the least return I have never requested you to render me the slightest favor. For the first and only time I ask now a favor at your hands: give your consent to the union of your daughter with friend Mortlock." "I cannot, sir." "Weigh well your words, nephew Richard. The consequences of your refusal will be that I shall destroy this will, making another person my heir. To you and yours not one shilling nor shall you ever receive another shilling of my money."

My heart fainted within me absolute beggary stared me in the face and with that beggary, as it seemed to me, disgrace. "I regret," continued my uncle, "that I should have been forced into speaking so plainly. I give you till to-morrow morning to reflect, to talk over the matter with your wife, if you care to do so. Till then, we will speak 110 further upon the subject. What I have resolved upon is irrevocable, and there is nothing surer in life than that you and I have done with each other forever if you then determine to oppose my wishes. Oblige me now by leaving me. At this hour of the day I always seek a little repose."

I saw that it would not improve matters if I remained with him therefore I left him and sought my wife. "What has happened?" she asked, in a voice of alarm. She read the news in my face. "The worst," I replied.

I told her all, and, cast down and despairing as she was, she said that I had acted right "Do you realize what it means?" I said, "We shall have to quit this place at once we shall be thrown upon the world to starvel" And then I started up, and paced the room in a state of terrible excitement, saying that it was monstrous such a blow should be dealt us by a feeble old man. "Feeble and old," I repeated, vacantly "yes, feeble and old. He is over seventy. If he should die to-night!" The words froze upon my lips. "Richard!" cried my wife. "God forgive me!" I said "I know not what I am saying. But it shall not—shall not—shall not be!"_

All her sweet efforts were powerless to calm me in "uncontrollable agitation I rushed from her presence.

How the day passed I can scarcely recall. I know that my wife sent a note by hand to Harry Clanronald, requesting him not to come to our house this evening. I know that we, Mdlle. Rosalie, Mr. Wilmot, aud Mr. Mortlock, dined together, and that I was forced to play the part of host. I know that the three whose uames I have written were full of sparkle aud animation, while we were moody and silent. I know that Mdlle. Rosalie and Mr. Mortlock played and sang. And then came the good-night all round, and I was in my bedroom with my wife. Her eyes were encircled by dark rings her face was wan her limbs shook her voice trembled as she spoke. "I have made up my mind to do something," she said, in a pitiful tone. "To morrow morning I will speak to your uncle myself, and will try to move him." "You may as well try to melt a rock," I said. And in my miud stirred the refrain, "He is feeble aud old if he should die to-night!—if he should die to-night!" "I shall need all my strength and brightness," said my wife. "I have not slept for the last three nights, so great has been my anxiety. A night's good rest, aud I should

rise

in the morning equal to the task of saving our dear child." And still the refrain was in my mind— "If he should die to-night!—if he should die to-night!"

There was an opiate on the mantelshelf which I occasionally took to Insure sleep. I poured the requisite number of drops into a glass, and diluted them with water. "Drink this," I said to my wife "you will sleep soundly and well, and then, in the morning, If you still think of carrying out your plan, yon can try our last fcop6."

I knew that It was a vain hope, and that her appeals would be thrown away upon this man, who held in his hands the threads of our fate.

My wife undressed, knelt down to pray —fervent and long were her prayers on this fatal nights—and then she went to bed. I handed her the opiate, and she drank it ,- ... "All will be well, my love," she said, dreamily. "My m'*H assures me that all will be well! Good ght dear love—God bless you!"

She drew to her brei^ rmdl kissed her lips. In that embrace fell asleep. I crept from the chamber in my slippers, and gfrde through the dark and vacant rooms. "He Is feeble and old If he should die to-night!—if he sh-mM die to-night!"

It was like a*prayer. and made Itself felt as well as heard as I trod softly here and there, now standing by a window looking

•.,- 4

out upon the shadows, now moving away, with unutterable despair in my heart. The Spirit of Murder was in my house!

I'! \To be Cbntmtud]

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A Sound Legal Opinion.

E. Bainbridge Munday, Esq., County Atty, Clay County, Texas, says: "Have vsea Electric Bitters with most happy results. Mv brother also was very low with Malarial Fever and Jaundice, but was cured by timely use of this medicine Am satisified that Electric Bitters saved my life."

Mr. D. I. Wilcoxson, oi Horse Cave, Ky., adds a like testimony, saying: He positively believes ho would have died, had it not been for Electric Bitters.

This great remedy will ward off, as well as cure all Malaria Diseases, and for all Kidney, Liver and Stomach Disorders stand unequalled. Price 50c and fl, at Carl Krietenstein, cor. 4th A Ohio.(6)

Bucklen'a Arnica Salve.

The Best Sal ve in the world for Cuts, Bruises, Sores. Ulcers, Salt Rheum. Fever Sores, Tetter, Chapped Hands, Chilblains, Corns, and all skin eruptions, and positively cures riles, or no pay regnlrea. It is guaranteed to give perfect satisfaction, or money refunded. 26c. per box. For sale by Carl Krietenstein, S. W Cor. -tt)i and Ohio.

Disorders

,4I

Also:

3

Shattered norvos. tlml brain, Itnpuro blood, debilitated system, all are the natural outcome ID tho Spring.

A

modiclne inuat be used, nnd nothing equals Palne's tilery Compound. We lot others praise us—you cannot help bellovtng a disinterested party.

Hrlpodier-aeneral \V. L. Greenleat. Burlington. Vt., writes: "1 have used Palne's celery Compound on several occasions, and always with benefit. Last spring, being very much r«a down and debilitated, I commenced taking it. Two bottles made me feel like anew man. As a general tonic and spring medicine I do not know of Its equal."

have used two bottles of your Palne's Celery Compound, and It has given entire satisfaction as an appetizer and blood purifier."

T. L. BEKNEH, Watertown, Dakota.

Paine's

Celery Compound

is prescribed by physicians, recommended by drufnrtsta endorsed by ministers, praised by users, and guaranteed by the manufacturers, as a spring medicine which will do all that Is claimed for It Use It this spring, and see how quickly It tones you up.

Purifies the Blood.

Full accounts of wonderful cures made by Paine's Celery Compound after other medicines and the best physicians had failed, sent free. There's nothing like it. $l.oo. Six for |s.oo. Druggists.

WILLS, RICHARDSON A Co., Uurimgton, Vt.

DIAMOND DYES tUapiiflJurabl*, JSeufumUeat.

LACTATED FOOD i(U.conwducenU rclUh iL

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O (iuldo to Hi-Mith Bent KHKE.

Pilules area most certain and speedy euro for all dlseaseit that arise from Malaria, Chills and Fever, etc. The

Tk»i act directly

Pilules«

act directly In the blood. the whole of

Positive

iatlon, killing

the germs that produce fever, torpid liver, con­

stipation, kidney troubles, nick headache, rheumatism, neuralgio^etc. They area

antidote for these comlalnts have never ailed for more than 15 years. They act like magic on all malarial

sickness, hence they are the onlj positive

Cure For Chills

for all Blood Impurities known. They will purify and cleriw the system, when everything else has failed and as

and fever, there is nothing (and never was anything produced, ever,) like them

for their wonderful effects. Many hundreds of thousands of old stubborn cases have been cured by Moore's Pilules, which all other remedies failed to touch. They ore a moat valuable medicine to have on band In the faml'y they relieve Indigestion, clear the skin, act on the liver at once— hence there is no need of the harmful cathartics. They are worth many times their cost to any family. Those who rely on Moore's Pilules are quickly distinguished by their bright anpearK nee. elastic step, and the Healthful glow upon their faces

Moore's Throat and Lung lozenges are a most excellent temedy,—nothing better-for Coughs, Colds, fore Throat, Bronchitis. Whooping Cough and all affections of the throat find cheat. They are plessant to the taste, and give Instant relief. Pot op In large 10 cent and 25 cent tin boxes-for Irritation of the throat there is no remedy that begins to compare with them. Both sold by druggists.

KILMER'S

remedies

One of every five we mr~t Hi some form of Hi -it esse, and is in con-

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