Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 24, Number 22, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 25 November 1893 — Page 3

'•mmi

Oat of tbf Jaws of Death.

f- Chmtinued from Second Page. past— Jfhere yon go again. "Can't a mah have a conscience without being a redhoi revolutionist like yon? 1 tell yon I have felt that my life has been misspent, and in stead of lounging about doing nothing, ex cept waste my money, I ought to occupy myself and invest my capital in some in dustry that would give employment to the laboringclass."

Gordon spoke with perfect gravity, but 1 saw by the twitching of Taras'mustache aa he bent ov«r his tea that be found it difficult to listen to this announcement with a serious face. "Now, old Bell—you know Colonel Bell, the fine old fellow who came with me about a month ago to look at your work—his feelings are jnst like mine only—poor old fellow—be hasn't got the cash. He's perhaps less concerned about the welfare of the laboring class than I am—it's you who have worked me up so tremendously in that way—but he's quite as eager to invest his capital in a paying concern. But the worst of It is, you know, he's got so dcuced little of it that he couldn't very easily do anything off his own bat. And for the sake of his daughter he dare not venture it in a very risky concern You know he has a daughter?"

Taras nodded, with a humorous twinkle in his eye and a kindly smile. "Kavanagh tells meshe is a most beauti fnl and charming young lady," he said. "She is, old man," Gordon said enthusi astically, coloring up to his temples. "You must meet her. I've told her about Mile. Aura, and she is most anxious to make her acquaintance." "Doubtless," Taras' nod seemed to say. "She is awfully nice. However, that has nothing to do with the affair. The thing is that the old gentleman and I have hit it off completely. He quite jumped at the proposal. Of course I take all risks."

Taras uodded, as if this arrangement were the most natural thing in the world b& tweeu men of business, and asked when the idea had first struck Gordon. "The very day that humbug backed out of the affair and you expressed nn opiu ion that it would bedirticult to find another pottery where such a work could be fired. By the luckiest chance possible I learned the same day that Perry, round the corner, wanted to sell his worfcs." "The ginger beer bottle place?" Taras asked with a little ruefulness in his face. "Oh, he does drain pipes as well. But of course we shall build a new kiln—can't make bricks without straw, you know— and get the best workmen that are to be had. I haven't Baid a word on this matter to any one for fear the negotiations might fall through, but last night the affair was concluded satisfactorily, and we enter into possession at once. As soon as you are ready the workmen can set about casting the group, so that it will be dry and be ready for burning by the time the kiln is finished—of course, old man, supposing that yon are willing to give us the job." "A proper kiln and good workmen—I ask for nothing more than that." "You may depend on having them. Any thing is to be had for money, and I shall be only too-glad to put mine to such good use. You know how thoroughly I sympathize with your cause. That alone would oommand my fortune, but look what a start this job will give us—what an adver tisementt"

Taras stretched out his hand and grasped his friend's in a silence more expressive than any verbal testimony of his faith in Gordon and recognition of the generous motive that underlay his scheme.

We saw a great deal of Gordon during the following week. On the Saturday there was along consultation in the work •hop with two of the cleverest men in the trade with reaped to the casting of the group, which had now received the last touch, and it was agreed, that on the Mon day following the operation should be be gun. Taras told mo this when the work men were gone, and I found him in the workshop. There he stood before his work with folded arms, and after regarding it in silence for a few minutes he said with im pressive force: "This is the finest work I have ever done tn my life, Aura I am pooud of it."

It was the pride of coqscious strength, not tho vanity of a weak mind, that im pelled him to say this, nnd it evoked a cor responding feeling of exultant admiration in my breast that bauished all foolish thoughts and compunctions. I slipped my hand under his arm and pressed it. I was proud, too, not of the work, but of the man whose genius had produced it, "It should be his finest work," 1 said to myself as the awful reflection flashed upon me that it was likely to be his last and that it would cost him his life.

We went to Kew ou Sunday afternoon and lingered under the beautiful trees in tho gardens until the keeper cried, "All outl" We were both more silent than usual, for we were both thinking about the group—he with some anxiety, probably about the delicate operation of the morrow I for the result of its successful achievements But with my anxiety was mingled a supreme happiness, a fitting sense of my privilege in being the friend and companion of such a uoble man.

On Monday mornIr:~ I rose early, and go Ing out to tho atelier saw Taras standing in the doorway, his chin sunk upon his breAst and his eyes fixed on something within.

At the sound of my step he raised his head and turned, looking down at me with deep dejection in his face nnd with such vacancy iu his regard that I could scarcely bo lieve ho saw me. "Tarasf' I exclaimed, halting at the foot of the steps in wonder and fear.

Without a word he beckoned me to come up, and as 1 reached his side on the landing he raised bis hand and pointed within.

With a choking cry of dismay I perceived that his work—the beautiful group on which he had spent months of patisnt labor and strenuous thought—lay a shapeless wreck upon the floor. The irons that supported the subject stood there, a gro Usque skeleton of the living figures, but Uio modeled clay was heaped upon the floor In a shapeless mass, the original de sign beaten out of recognition.

For the moment I thought that, finding it fallen and his

work

spoiled, he himself had

trampled upon it in a fit of frenried exas at "Was it too damp?" I asked, knowing the care he took to wring

out the wetted

doth* that enveloped the

group at night

time. He shook his head. "Then who has done this?' I asked. "The c*ar." be replied. His arm to long." "But not so long as yours,'' said I, fired with a spirit of rtv«n£«fal wrath. "You will not giv« in beoausc of this. You will fight him to the end. Whattyoa hare done before yon can do again. You can boild up the figures one* more and make them as boautlfcl as they It is only a matter of tiro*." "My brave Aurar aaid he. laying his

band affectionately on my shoulder, "you give me the courage I lack. Yes, that is the way to face a disaster like this., Ta|te up the sword and fight on. That alone makes defeat honorable What does it matter—the delay cf a few months? We shouldn't be content to do nothing. They've left me the bones at any rate," he added, with a laugh and a nod at the rusted iron, "and we shall soon see the flesh grow again on them. Let us go down now. After breakfast we will begin again. 1 t's good to have a brave friend at such a time as this. Come, Aura."

But for al! my braverv I could eat no breakfast, and when as spoke of our visit to- Kew I burst into a flood of uncontrollable tears with recollectiou of the confident hope and pride which had filled us with such happiness and content.

When Gordon and the workmen came, 1 let them go up to the workshop without a Word, but I determined to spare Taras the pain of telling the story again, and so when Kavanagb came I stopped him in the passage, and, taking him into^the sitting room, myself related what had happened. He listened wifli astonishment, and seemed greatly shocked. "Good heavens," he exclaimed, "what a terrible blow for poor Taras! Gordon told me that they were to begin casting the group today. I came to congratulate my friend on having finished his work. Poor fellowl What is he going to do?" "Make another group," I answered fiercely, "and if that's destroyed another after that. You don't think he's going to give up, do you?"

He paused in reflective silence for a min ute, then wjeni to the door and looked into the passage". He stood there for another minute, closed the door as silently as he had opened it, and returning to my side continued: "No," he said quietly "that wasn't, however, exactly what I meant. Can you tell me if he has taken any steps to dis cover the person who committed the outrage?" v'^f 5"He hasn't taken any steps. He knowsJ who did it. It was the czar. He says so. There's no getting at him." "But we ought togetattheTnen employed by him, for what-.is to prevent them doing this again when the, next model is finished if thty are allowed to escape now?" "Well, how are they to be caught?" "That is what we who are the friends of Taras ought to try and find out. Taras is too intent on striking at the czar to occupy himself with the agents, but we have not that excuse for indifference, and we might at least attempt to find them. That at any rate is my feeling, and I think it is yours too." "Of course it is. I can't sleep at night for fearing what they may do." "Then let us make a practical be&inning now. We need not bother Taras about it. Let us try to find the enemy out just as if he were an ordinary thief who had broken into the house. Do you agree to that?" "Why, certainly." "Tell me now," said he, drawing his chair a little nearer and lowering his voice, *4when did this take place?" "I don't know. We found it all smashed down when we went up in the workshop before breakfast this morning. It was all right, when we were there on Saturday night." "You did not go in there yesterday?" "No." "Then it must have happened between Saturday night and this morning. Now," dropping his voice almost to a whisper, "what time does Mere Lucas go to bed?"

The question startled me, but I answered that she was never up later than 9. "Taras sleeps at the top of the h'otise, doesn't be?" "Yes." "And Mere Lucas on the same floor'as your room—the first floor?" "Yes." "Tell me, does she ever go down'stairs after you go to your room?" "Not that I know of?" "Do you ever hear any peculiar noise in the night?" "No," 1 replied, with an uncomfortable creeping of the flesh.

Kavanagh reflected for a minute or two, stroking the short black beard that covered his handsome face, his sleepy eyes so closed that only narrow slits of light were reflected under the long curved lashes, and then again bending forward he murmured in a tone perfectly inaudible beyond ourselves: "Were you at home all day yesterday?" "No we went to Kew in the afternoon and came home latish." "Ah! you left the house In the care of Mere Lucas?" "Yes." "Was she at home when you returned?" "No she came in about ten minutes later."

He nodded as if he had expected this. "Did she say where she had been?" he asked. "She went to see a friend in Soho. I think she said." "Have you ever flteen a friend call upon her here?" "No."

He shook hishead, smiling again, as if he had expected my reply. "Of course," he said, "you found no locks broken or anything of that kind?" -v "No." "Well, that is all I have to ask you for the present, I think. But I need nottellyou how important it is that no one should know of this conversation, least of all Mere Lucas." "Why, you don't suspect she did it, do jrou?" I whispered. "No," he replied, drawing the word out doubtfully, "but I feel tolerably certain on one point. There is very little doubt that if you had gone into the studio before Mere Lucas returned you would have found the mischief done. Whether she is more closely concerned in this abominable affair I shall be able to tell you when 1 have found out more about that mysterious friend in Soho. And I think I shall be able to tell you something about him before long. Now, my dear mademoiselle," he added, rising, "let me warn you again not to let Mere Lucas imagine you suspect hear. Try to be just the same as usual with her, only keep your eyes open, and your ears also, especially at nigbtl"

With this mysterious injunction he left ED©. "Is It possible that Mere Lucas is th* enemy'*' I asked myself as I sat alone, shivering with nervous apprehension.

CHAPTER XYIL MISGIVINGS.

I

was still weighing K&vaaagh's mystwi ous questions and dark insinuations, nn able to draw any definite conclusioas from the conflicting doubts that agitated my mind, when the door opened and Mere La ou came in, her big mouth puckered up with pain and tears running down her

"What a disaster! What a terrible calamity, my poor dear friend!" she exrlalm •d, dropping on a chair if overcome with grief. And then rocking he»elf backward and forward she whimp«Md out horgxief

TERRE HAtJTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, NOV&MBER 25,1893.

fa along chain of incoherent phrases broken by sobs behind the blue apron which she held to her eyes.

It seemed to me ds watched her impossible that such grief could be simulated that any one could summon such a flow of tears from an unfeeling heart. But then I reflected the person chosen by the czar's agent to execute so dangerous a

mission

must Of necessity be extremely subtle and deceptive. •'The beautiful figures all torn down—the whole work ruined I" she went on. "The work it htfs taken so long to make, tl.e pride and joy of my dear master! I would rather the monsters had beaten me down and crushed the life out of me!" lasted myself if Mere Lucas was not ov erdoing it now. "And to say," she added, getting the betterof her tears and dropping her apron— "to say that I am the cause of it all!" "Does he say so?" I asked quickiy. 'AhI 1 would be had. Look you, poor dear friend, it is easier to bear bla: when one deserves it, than forgiven ?$s words of kmdness." She buret::',, again as she repeated the words wit. Taras had tried to comfort her.

My judgment wavered—it was di£ to doubt the sincerity of her emotion. "It is my fault I say it, II" she cried, striking her breast, adding, with dramatic emphasis, "and it is true! What right had I to leave the house when my master was away? What am I here for but to protect the house and my master's interests? If it had happened while I was at home, it would have been a great misfortune, but at least I should not have been culpable no one could have said I suffered the mischief to be done." "Does any one say so now?" 1 asked. "Why, it is evident, my poor friend. Any good for nothing watching his opportunity might have opened the front door with a bent nail and walked in. And, animal that lam, I did not even look round the place when I came in to see that all was safe as I left it."

Kavanagh'ssuggesti ve questions returned forcibly to my mind, and 1 found it was quite conceivable that a crafty person should accuse herself of a pardonable fault to screen herself from the suspicion of an act of baseness. ,V "And to think that this is my fault and that I owe everything in the world to that dear master. One would say that I did it expressly to show that there was no more gratitude in the world," and the tears starting from her eyes again she rose and went out of the room, whimpering: "Heav» ens! I deserve to be turned out of doorsi and then what would become of me?"

I started, thinking that I had a key to the mystery in that phrase. Had not the dread of being cast adrift induced Mere Lucas to connive at the destruction of the group? If she had been warned of the fatal consequences to Taras, which the production of this work must entail, would she not, for his sake as well as her own, agree to this simple measure for averting such a lerrible result? Gauging her disposition by my own, I believed she would, and my heart readily forgave her offense. But though affection for the old woman in dined me to accept this explanation I re solved to watch her closely till I had seen Kavanagh and heard the result of his in quiry respecting the friend in Soho.

I followed her when she went otit shopping. I slept with my door open, and waking at a fancied sound crept out in the darkness to listen on the stairs. I discov ered nothing tending in the slightest degree to confirm the suspicion of her com plicity iu the outrage on the contrary, her continued dejection, which the cheerful remonstrance of Taras failed to remove, seemed to confirm the sincerity of her sor row and humiliation.

Apparently Kavanagh found greater difficulty than he had anticipated in his investigations, for a week elapsed before 1 saw him again. When he went up with Taras into tne workshop to see the new group, which was already taking form, 1 followed with the hope of finding an opportunity of hearing the communication which I thought he might have to make to me. "I shall finish it now," said Taras confidently, "by the time Gordon^ kiln is ready to be fired." "If nothing happens to you or ft in the meantime," said Kavanagh somberly. "It isn't likely the rascals will try that game on again. If they do, so much the worse for them. They will have to settle accounts with poor old Mere Lucas." "Andsupposing, nevertheless," said Kavanagh, with a glance at me as he turned to Taras, "that this group shared the fate of the last, what then?" "What then? Why, I would begin another, with a revolver by my side, and never leave it till I gave it to the world to protect"

Kavanagh nodded gravely, but made no other comment. For BOme minutes he stood silently watching Taras as he built up a fold in the drapery with pellets of moist clay then, recovering from his fit of abstraction, he looked at his watch and pleaded an engagement. Taras laid aside his clay, and despite his friend's remonstrances led the way down the steps to see him to the door.

In that moment Kavanagh, turning to me, murmured:' "I have something to tell you when I get the chance. But, for heaven's sake, don't lose sight of Mere Lucas!" Then he added some commonplace in a louder tone and ran down the steps.

At dinner time Taras said to me "I am going to smoke a pipe with Gor don presently^ Will you walk as far as the Adelphi with me?" |Jf 1^

Nothing would have pleased ttie more, but with Kavanagh's warning still ringing in my ears I dared not accept the offer. "How long shall you stay with him?" 1 -asked, thinking that if the time were not too long Mere Lucas might be left. "A couple of hours or so, too long for yon to wait. And I can't very well ask yon to go up into his rooms." "I know that." I had almost ceased to be and no longer begrudged Taras the liberty which a man always wishes to feeL "Thank you very much, but I think

I would rather stay at home tonight." It was 8 o'clock when Taras started. At 9 Mere Lucas came kt to bid me a lugubrious adieu, and then I began to listen to the footsteps in the street, though I bad no rear son to expect Taras in for at least another hour. At 10 o'clock I went out as noiselessly as I could and looked up at Mere Lucas* window. There was no light in the room, butas I reached the door of the workshop the window sash was thrown open, and her bead in its white nightcap ap-

Sbe had heard me unbolt the back

'Who is there?" she cried in a tone of alarm. 1 told her it was I, who had come (Kit to see if the lock which had beat pat da the workshop door was secure. "My poor little friend," said she, "do jou fofair I oould lie down If had not made sure of that? Is It that my good little master has not returned yet?"

I told har that I expected him in evwr minute, sad with a mutual "good nightr

she closed the window, ami I entered house. I had left a light in the kitchen. Look ing round I saw that everything was iu its place and the bright latchkey of thr front door, which Mere Lucas used wheu she went out in the daytime, banging ov?i the dresser. "Surely," I said to myself, reassured by these signs, "Kavanagh has been deceived There is no necessity to watch Mere Lucas tonight [7o be Continued Next TFeefc.]

Orlgiu of tl»e Cocktail.

Turning from war to drink, we find that the origin of "tfxrktail" is ingeniously deduced. In Mexico they drink pulque, derived from the cactus. The Aztec for pulque istloctel hence Yankee "cocktail." Octel was an Aztec girl who gave pulque to Montezuma. The monarch smiled, hence Yankee "to smile," "to take a. ile." No* authority is given. Perbifjs the story is in hctlilochitl, the MacAiiiay of Mexico. As for "cobbler," 'twas a cobbler who brewed "cobbler's punch,!' heuce "sherry cobbler." Here we may rittect a "folk's etymology," for who answers for that shoemaker? "Julep" is derived from Arabic "julab." "rosewater," so they say. Chocolate is really of Aztec origin.—London Daily News.

Silver In the Arts.

Of the $9,000,000 of silver used annually in the arts in the United States more than one-fourth ($2,500,000) is manufactured into solid spoons and forks, and the proportion in foreign countries is about the same. Including these millions of dollars' worth of the metal, about $5,000,000 are used in the silversmith's art, $2,500,000 are used for plated and silverware, and about $1,500,000 are applied in dentistry, photography, surgery, etc.—Exchange.

An Aid to Sleep.

An excellent way to cure insomnia is to bandage the eyes with a handkerchief be fore retiring. The compress seems to drive away the blood from the eyes and so to cure or at least to temporarily relieve that feeling so often experienced by insomniacs of trying to see in the dark.

The wonderful cures of thousands of people—they tell the "story of the merit of Hood's Sarsaparilla. HOOD'S CURBS,

An

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Catarrh, Not Local, But Constitutional.

Dr. Dio Lewis, the eminent Boston physician, in a magazine article says: A radioal error underlies nearly all medical treatment of catarrh. It is not a disease of theT man's nose it is a dis ease of the man, showing itself in the nose—a Local exhibition of a Constitutional trouble." Therefore, be argues, the use of snuff and other lccal applications is wrong, and while they seem to give temporary relief, they really do more harm than good. Other leading authorities agree with Dr. Lewis. Hence, the only proper method of cure for ca tarrh is by taking a constitutional remedy like Hood's Sarsaparilla, which, reaohing every part of the body through the blood, does eliminate all impurities and makes the whole man healthier. It removes the cause of the trouble and restores the diseased membrane to proper condition. That this is the practical result is proven by thousands of people who have been cured of catarrh by taking Hood's Sarsaparilla.

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