Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 7 February 1878 — Page 7

PUT YOURSELF IN KIS PLACE.

fContiaued from Sccenrl Fag's

He said this no fcadl and wJeiiin'y that Mrs. Little's anger fell directly, and they both sat »ilent long time. "Guy," paid Mrs. Little, "tell me the truth. Has my son done any thing rorig—any thing ra^h? It was strange he should leave England without telling me. He tjid Doctor Amboyne. Oh, there i- s.?me mystery here. If I did not know you so well, I should say there is some "deci-it going on in this house. There is—you hang your head. I can not bear to give you pain, so I will ask you no more questions. But—"

There was a world of deteirriination in that ''but." She retired eary to bed to bed, but not to rest

In the silence of the sight she recalled every thing, even* look, every word that had seemed a little strange to her, an 1 put them all together. Sue could not sleep vayue misgivings crawled over her agitated mind. At lenth slumbered from mere exhaustion. She rose early yet when she came down stair*, Raby was just starting for Woodbine Villa.

Mrs. Lilile asked him to take her into Hillsborough. He looked uneasy, but complied, and at her request, set hi-r down in the market-place of Hillsborough. As soon as he was out of sight she took a flv, and directed the driver to take her to Mr. Little's works

l,l

mean,"

said she, "the works where Mr. Bayne is." She found Mr. Ba\ne in his counting house, dressed in deep mourning.

He started at tight of her, and then she saw his eye fall with surprise on her gray dress. "Mr Bavne," said she, "I am come to ask yoj a question or two." "Be seated, madam," said Bayne, reverently. "I expected a visit Irom you or from your agent, and the accounts are all ready for your inspection. I keep them as clear as possible "I do not come here about accounts My son has perfect confidence in you, and so have I." "I'l'-uk you, madam thank you kindly. He did indeed honor me with his confiJence and his friendship. I am sure he wan more like brother than an employer. Ah, madam I shall never, never 6ee his fellow again." And honest Bayne turneJ away with his hand to his eyes.

This seemed to Mrs. Little to be more than the occasion required, and did not tend to lessen her mi: givings. However, she 6aid bravely, "Mr. Bayne, I suppose you have heard there is to be a wedding in town to-day—Miss Carder*?" '•That is sudden! No, madame, I didn't know it. I can hardly believe it." '•It is »o. She marries a Mr. Coventry. Now I think you were in my sen's contidence can you u:ll me whether there wa, any quariel between him and Miss Carden before he left us?" '•Well, m.u'arn, I didn't see so much of him lately, he was always at the other works. Would to heaven he had never seen them. But I don't believe he ever gave that lady an unkind word. He was not that sort. He was ready of his hand against a man, bat a very lamb with women he was. And so thj is going to marry? Well, well the world, it must go round- She loved hirn dearly, too. She was do.vn at Bolt and Little's works dav after day 6erching for him. She Bpint money like wator, poor thing! 1 have seen her with her white face and great eyes watching the men drag the river for him and, when that horrible thing was found at last, they sav she was on bridge and swooned dead away, and lay at death's door. But y»u will know all this, madam and it is sad for me to speak of, let alone you that are his mother."

The color died out of Mrs. Little's cheek as he spoke, but, catching new a glimpse of the truth, she drew Bayne on •with terrible cunning, and iO learned there had been a tremendous explosion, and Ja^l Dence taken up for dead and that, some time after, an arm and a hand had been found in the river and recognized for he remains of Henry Little.

When she had got this out of the unwary Bayne she uttered a piercing scream and her nead hung over the chair, and her limbs writhed, and the whole creature writhed, and the( whole creature seemed to wither up.

Then Bayne saw with dismay what he had done, and began to fa.tet out expressions of regret. She yuid no attention.

He blgjjed her to let him fetch hei some salts or a cordial. She shook her head and lay as weak as water and white as a sheet.

At last she rose, and, supporting herself a moment at the baj'k of the chair. 6he said,

You will take me to see my

son's remains." "Oh, for heaven's sake don think of it!" si "I must I can nut keep away from them an instant. And how else can I know they are him? Do you think I will believe an eye but my own? Come."

He had no power to disobey her. He trembled in every limb at wnat was coming, but he handed her into her carriage, and went with her to the Town Hall.

When they brought her the tweed sleeves, she trembled like an aspen leaf. When they brought her the glass receptacle, she seised Bayne by the shoulder and turned her head away. By degrees she looked round, and seemed to stiffen all of a 6udden. "It is not my son," said she.

She rushed out of the place, bade Mr. Bayne good morning, and drove directly' to Doctor Amboyne. She attacked him at once. "You have been deceiving me all this time about my son and what am I the better? what is any body the better? Now tell me the truth. You think him dead." (Doctor Amboyne hung his head in alarm and confusion

Whv do you think so? Do you go by those remains? I have seen them My child was vaccinated on the left arm, and carried the mark. He had 6pecks on two of his finger-nails he had a small wart on his little finger and his fingers were not blunt and uncouth, like that they were as taper as any lady's in England that hand is nothing like my son's you are all blind yet you must go and blind the only one who really loved him, and whose opinion is worth a straw."

Doctor Amboyne was too much delighted at the news to feel these reproaches very deeply. "Thank God!" 6aid he. "Scold me, lor I deserve it. But I did for the best but, unfottunately, we have still to account tor his writing to ne one all this time. No matter. I begin to hope. That was the worst 'evidence. Edith, I must go to Woodbine Villa. This poor girl must not marry in ignorance of this,

Believe me, she will never marry Coventry if he is alive Excuse my leaving ycu at such a lime, but there is not a moment to he lof-t."

He placed her on a sofa, and opened the window for, by a natuial reaction, she was beginning to feel tather faint. He gave his housekeeper strict orders to take care of her, thea, snatching his hat, went hastily out.

Ar. the door he met the footman with several letters (he had a large correspondence), 6hoved them pell-mell into his breast pocket, shouted to a cabman stationed near, and drove off to Woodbine viiia

It vcaV rather up-hill, but hd put his head out of the window and offered the driver a sovereign to go fast. The man lathed his horse up the hill, and did go verv fast, though it seemed slow to Doctor Amboyne, because his wishes flew so much faster.

At last he got to the villa, and rang furiously After a delav that set the Doctor stamping, Lally appeared. "I must see Miss Carden directlv." -Step in, sir, she won't be gone long now."

Doct Amboyne walked into the dining-room, and saw it adorned with a wealth of flower*, and the weddingbreakfast set out with theu*ual splendor but there was nobody there and immediately an uneasy suspicio I crossed his mind

He came out into tha passage, and found La.My there. "Are they gone to church?" "Tney arc," said Laily, with consummate coolncs-i. •'You Irish idiot!" roared the Doctor "why couldn't you tell me that before?'' And, not-withstanding his ungainly figure he ran down th road, shouting, like a Stentor, to his receding ca.»man. "Bekase I saw that eveiy minute was goold," 6aid Lally, as soon as he was out of hearing.

The cabman, like mcst ot his race, was rather deaf and a little blind, and Doctor Amboyne was much heated and out of briath before he captured him. He gasped out, To St. Pe et's church, for your life!"

It was rather down-hill this time, and about a mile off. In little more than fire minutes the cab rattled up to the church door.

Doctor Amboyne got out and told the man to. wait, and entered the church with a rapid step.

Before he had gone far up the centre aisle, ho stopped. Mr. Coventry and Grace Carden were coming down the aisle together in wedding costume, the lady in her bridal veil.

They were followed by the bridesmaids. Doctor Ambo/ne started, and stepped aside into an open paw to let them pass.

They swept by he looked after them, and remained glued to his seat till the church was clear of the procession.

He went into the vestry, and found the curate there. "Are that couple really married, sir?" said he.

The curate looked amazed. "As fast as I can make them," said he. rather flip pantly. "Excuse me," said the Doctor, faintly. "It was a loolish question to ask." "I think I have the honor of speaking to Doctor Amboyne r"

Doctor Amboyne bowed, mechanically. "You will be at the wedding-bteak fast, of course "Humph!" 'i "WH", surely you are invited," "Yes" (with an equally absent air).

Finding him thus confused, the spright ly curate laughed and bade him good morning, jumped into a hansom, and away to Woodbine Villa. \.

Doctor Amboyne followed slowly. "Drive to Wojdbine Villa. There's no hurry now."

On the way, he turned the matter calmly over, and put this question to himself: Suppose he had reacned the villa in time to tell Grace Garden the news Cer tainly he v.ould have disturbed the wedding but would it have beer, put off any the more The bride's friends and advisers would have replied, 'But that is no positi proof that he is alive and, if he is alive, he has clearly abandoned her Not a line for all these months."

This view of the matter appeared to him unanswerable, and reconciled him, in a great degree, to what seemed inevitable.

He uttered one deep sigh of regret, and proceeded now to read his letters for he was not likely to have another opportunity for another hour or two at least, since he must be at the wedding-break-fast. Hi* absence would afflict the bride.

The third letter he took out of his breast-pocket bore an American postmark. At the first word of it he uttered an ejaculation, and his eye darted to the signatuie.

Then he gave a roar of delight. It was signed "Henry Little," and the date only'twelve days old.

His first thought was the poor lady who. at this momet lay on a sofa at his house,a prey to doubts and fears he could cure now in a moment. 3ut no sooner had he cast his eyes over the contents, than his very flesh began to creep with ,£ir$ misgivings and suspicions. ,t

To these succeeded the gravest doubts as to the course he ought to pursue at Woodbine Villa.

He felt pretty sure that Grace Carden had been entrapped into marrying a vil lian, and his first impulse was to denounce the bridegroom before the assembled guests.

But his cooler judgment warned him against acting in hoUblood, and suggestedit would be better to try and tea her privately.

And then he asked himself what would be the consequence of telling her. She was a lady of great spirit, fire, and nobility. She would never live with this husband of hers.

And then cafhfc' the* question, what would be her life She might be maid, wife and widow all her days.

Horrible a# it was, he began to almost fear her one miserablof hanceof happiness might lie in ignorance

But then how long could she be in ignorance Little was coming home he would certainly speak oat.

Dr. Amboyne was mote tormented with doubts than a man of inferior intellect would have been. His was an academic mind, accustomed to look at every 6ide of a question and v-hen he reached Woodbine Villa, he was almost distracted with doubts and perplexity. However, there was one person from whom the news must not be kept a moment He took an envelope out of his

THE TERRE HAUTE WEEKLY GAZETTE.

pocket-bouk. and sent the cabman to Mrs. Lit wit^i thi« line •T iank G. I have a letter from Henry Little by this day's post. He is *well. Wait an hour or two for me. I cannot leave Woodbine Villa at present

He sent this off by his cabman, and went into the breakfast-room in a 6tate of mind easier to imagine than to describe.

The party were all seated, and his the only vacant olace. It was like a hundred other weddings at which he had been and, seeing the brid? and bridegroom seated together as usual, and the pretty bridesmaids tittering as usual and the gentle dullness lighted up with here and there a feeble jest, as usual, he could hardly realize that horribie things lav beneath the surface of all this snowy bride-cake, and flowers, and wh.te veils, ami feeble jrcoseness.

He stared, and bowed, and sank into his placc like a man in a dream. Bridesmaids became magne:ically conscious that an incongrous element had entered so they tittered. At what does sweet silly seventeen not titter

Knives and forks clattered, champaign popped, and Doctor Amboyne was more perpkxed and miserable than he had «vcr been. He had never encountered a more hopeless situation.

Presently Lally came and touched the bridegroom. He apologized, and left the room a moment.

Lally told iiim to be or. his guard for the fat doctor knew something. He had come tearing up in a fly, and had bejn dreadfully put out when he found Miss Carden was gone to the church. "Well, but he might merely wish to accompany her to the church he is an old friend,"

Lally shook his luad and said there was more in it than that he could tell by the man's eye, and hi., uneasey way. •'Master, dear, get out of this, for heaven's sake, as fast as ye can.' "You are right go and order the carriage round, as soon as the horses can be put to."

Coventry then went hastily back to the bridal guests, and Lally ran to the neighboring inn which fuinjfhed the fo.ur posthorse®.

Coventry had hardly" settled""down in his chair before he cast a keen but furtive glance at Doctor Atnboyne's face.

Then he saw directly that the Doctor's mind was working, and that he was secretly and profoundly agitated.

But, after all, he thought, what could the man knov/ And if he had known anything, would he have kept it to himself

Still he judgtd it prudent to propitate Doctor Ambjyno so, when the time came for the usual f\lly of drinking healths, he leaned over to him, and, in the sweetest possible voice, asked him if he would do them both the honor to propose the bride's health.

At this unexpected call from Mr. Coventry, Doctor Amboyne stared in the bridegroom's face. He stared at him so that other people began to stare. Recovering himself a little, he arose me chanically, and surprised everybody who knew him.

Instead of t'n? easy gaiety natural to himself and proper to the occasion,* he delivered a few faltering words of affection .r ihe bride then suddenly stopped, and after a pause said But some younger man must foretell her the bright career she deserves. I am unfit. We don't know what an hour maj' bring forth." With this he sank into his chair.

An uneasy grin, and then a gloom, fell upon the bright company al these strange words, and all looked at one another uncomfoitably.

But this situation was unexpectedly relieved. The young curate rose, and .said: "I accept the honor Doctor Amboyne is generous enough to transfer to the younger gentleman of the party, ac jepl it wiih pride."

Starting from this exordium, he pronounced wiiheasy volubility, a charming panegyric on the bride, congratulated her friends, and then congratulated himselt on b*ing the instrument to unite her in holy wedlock with a gentleman worthy of her affection. Then, assuming for one moment, the pastor, he pronounced a blessing on the pair, and sat down, casting glances all round out of a pair of singularly re.tless eyes.

The loud applause that followed left him in no doubt as to the favorable effect he had produced. Coventry, in particular, looked most expressively grateful.

The bridegroom's health followed, and Coventry returned thanks in a speech so neat and well delivered that Grace felt proud of his performance.

Then the carriage and four came round and Coventry gave Grace an imploring glance on 'vtiich she acted at once, being herself anxious to eseape from so much publicity. She made her curtesies, and^ and ritin-d to put on her traveling dress." nen Djotor Hmboyne cuised his own indecision, but still could not make up his mind except to tell Raby, and make him the judge what course was best

The gaietv, never very boisterous, began to flag altogether when suddenly a noise was neard outside, and one or two young people, who darted uncermoniously to the window, were rewarded by the sis»ht of a man and woman struggling and quarrelling at the gate. The disturbance in question arose thus: Jael Dence, looking out of Grace's window, saw the postman coming, ard ran to get Grace her letters (il any) before she went.

The postman, knowing her well, gave her the one letter there was. Lally, returning from the inn, where he had stopped one unlucky minute to drain a glass, saw this, and ran after Jael and caught her just inside the gate. "That's for me," said he rudely. "Nay, it's for thy betters, young man 'tis for Miss Grace Carden." •4She's Mrs. Coventry, now, so give it me." vi "I'll take her orders first."

On this Laily grabbed at it and caught Jael's right hand, which closed directly on tr.e letter like a vice. 'Are these your manners ?." said she.

uGive

over now."

'•I tell you I will have it said he. fiercely, for he had caught sight of the handwriting.

He seized her hand and applied his knuckles to the back of it with all his force. That hurt her, and she gave a cry, and twisted away from him and drew back then putting her left hand to his breast, she gave a great yaw, and then a forward rush with her mighty loin6. and a contemporaneous shove with her amazing -left arm, that would have pushed down some brick walls, and the weight and strength so suddenly applied sent Lally flying like a feather. His head struck the stone gate-post, and he measured his length under it

Jael did not know how completely she had conquered hitlk, and »he ran in with

4'I

a face a9 red as fire, and took the letter up to prace, and was telling her, all in a heat, about the insolence of her new hus» band's Irish servant, when suddenly she half recognized the handwriting, and stood staring at it, and began to tremble. "Why, what is the matter?" said Grace. ...

£.

"Oh, nothing, Mra. I'm foolish. The writing seems to me like a writing we shall never see again." And she stood and trembled still more, for the handwriting struck her more and more.

Grace ran to her, and at the very first glance uttered a shriek ot recognition. She caught it from Jael, tore it open, saw the signature, and sank into a chair, half fainting, witn the letter pressed convulsively to her bredst.

Jael, trembling, but comparatively self-possessed, ran to the door directlv and locked it: "My darling! my darling! he is alive! The dear words, thev swam before my eves. Read! read! tell me what he savs. Wiiy has he abandoned m. He has riot abandoned me! O Godl what have I done? what have I done?"

Before that letter was half read, or rather sobb- I, out to har, Grace tore off all her bridal ornaments and trampled them under her feet, and moaned, and twisted, and writhed as if her body being tortured as well as her heart Henry was true as ever, and she married a villain.

was fir had

de-

She took the letter from Jael, and voured every .vord though she was groaning and sobbing with the wildest agony all the time. "New York, .July 18th.

My own dearest Grace,—I write you tltese few lines in wo ider and pain. I have sent you at least fifteen letters, and in most of them I have begged you to write to ma at the Post-office, New York yet not one line is here to greet me in your dear handwriting. Yet my letters must have all reached Woodbine Villa, or whv are they not ser.t back? Of three letters I sent to my mother, two have been returned froin Abervstwith, milked, "Gone away, and not left her address." "I have turned this horrible thing every way in my mind, and even prayed God t£) assist my understanding and I come back always to the same idea that some scoundrel has intercepted my letters. "The first of these I wrote at the works on the evening I left Hillsborough the next I wrote from Boston, after my long illness, in great distress of mind on your account for I put myself in your place, and thought what agony it would be to me if nine waeks passed, and no word from you. The rest were written Iron various cities, telling you I was making our fortune, and should soon be home. Oh, I can not write of such trifles now! "My own darling, let me find you alive that is all I ask. I know I shall find you true to me, if you are alive. "Perhaps it would have been better it my heart had not been so entirely filled by you. God has tried me hard in some things, hut He has blessed me with true friends. It was ungrateful of me not to write t(f such true friends as Doctor Am boyne and Jael Dence. But, whenever I thought of England, I saw only you "By this post I write to Dr. Amboyne, Mr. Bolt, Mr. Bayne, and Jael Dence. "This will surely baffle the enemy who has stopped all my letters to you. and will stop this one. I dare say.

say no more, beloved one. What is the use? You will perhaps never see this letter, and you know more than I can say, for vou know how I love you, and that is a great deal more than ever I can put on paper. "I sail for England in four days. God help me to g£tover the interval.

I forgot whether I told you I had made my fortune. Your devo'ed and most unhappy lover, HENRY."

Grace mBnaged to read this, in spite of the sobs and moans that shook her, and the film that half blinded her and, when she had read it, sank heavily down, and sat all crushed together, with hands working like frenzy.

Jael kneeled beside her, and kissed and wept over her, unheeded. Then Jael prayed aloud beside her, unheeded.

At last she spoke, looking straight before her, as if she was speaking to the wall. "Bring my godfather here." "Won'tyou see your father first," said Jael, timidly. "I have no father. I w&nt something I can lean on over the gulf~a man oi honor. Fetch Mr. Rabv tome."

Jael kissed her tenderly, and wept over her once more a minute, then went softly down stairs and straight into the breakfast-room.

Here, in the meantime, consideable amusement had been created by the con test between illy and Jael Dence, the

Jre so on account of the triumph achieved by the weaker vessel. When Lally got up, and looked about him ruefully, great was the delight of the younger gentlemen.

When he walked in- Joors, they chaffed him through the open window, and none •of them noticed that the man was-paler than even the rough usage he had received could account for.

This jocund spirit, however, was doomed to be short-lived Lallv came into the room, looking pale and troubled, and whispered a word in his master's ear then retired, but left his master as pale as himself.

Coventry, seated at a distance from the window, had not seen the scrimmage outside, and Lally's informatioji fell on him like a thunderbolt.

Mr. Beresford saw at once that something was wrong, and hinted as much to his neighbor. It went like magic lound the table, and there was an uneasy silence.

In the midst of this silence, mysterious sounds began to be heard in the bride's chamber a faint scream feet rushing across the 'floot a sound as of some one sinking heavilv tn to a chair or couch.

Presently came a swift stamo'ng that told a tale of female passion and after that confused sounds that could not be interpreted through the ceiling, ret somehow the listeners felt they were unusual. One or two attempted conversation, out of politeness but it died away—curiosity and uneasiness prevailed.

Lally put his head in at the door, and asked if the carriage was not to be packed.

'Of course," said Coventry and soon the servants, male and female, were seen taking boxes out from the hall to the carriage..

Jael Dence walked into the nxjm, and went to Mr. Raby. *.« "The bride desires to see you immediately, sir."

Raby ro^e, and followedjael out The next minute a lady's maid came,

with a similar message to Dr. Amboyne. He rose with great alacrity, and followed her.

There was nothing remarkable in the bride's taking private leave of these two valued friends. But somehow the mysterious things that had preceded made the guests look with half-suspicious eyes into every thing and Coventry's manifest discomfiture, when Doctor Amboyne was sent for, justified this vague tense that there was something strange goipg 0:i beneath the snrf.ice.

Neither Raby nor Amboyne came down again, and' Mr. Beresford remarked aloud that the bride's rioin was like the lion's den in the fable, '"Vestigia nulla rotrorsum.'

At last the situation became intolerable to Coventry. He rose, in desDeration, and said, "with a ghastly attempt at a smile, that he must, nevertheless, face the dangers of the place himself, as the carriage was n)w packed, and Mrs. Coventry and he, though loath to leave their kind friends, had a longish journev before them. "Do not move, I pray I shall te back directly.'.'

As soon as he had got out of the room, he held a whispered consultation with Lally, and then, collecting all his cour age, and summoning all his presence of mind, he went slowly up the stairs, de tcrniined disowr Lally's ac (Lally himself had suggested this), and pacify Grace's friends, if he could but, failing that, to turu round, and stand haughtily on his legal right, ay, and enforce them too.

Bu», meantime, what has parsed in the bride's chamber? Raby found Grace Carden, with her head buried on her toilet table, and her hair all streaming aown her back*

The floor was strewn with pearls and broken ornaments, and fragments of the bridal veil. On the table lay Henry Little's letter.

Jael took i', without a word, and gave it to Raby. He took if, and, nfter a loud ejaculation of surpi isJ,b-j,an to read it.

He had not quite finished ,en Doctor Amboyne tapped at the door, and Jael let him in.

The crushed figure with disheveled hair, and Raby's eyes gleaming over the letter in his hand, told him at once what was going on.

He ceased to dpubt, or facillate, di rectly he whispered Jael Deuce to stand near Grace, and watch her closely.

He had seen a woman start up and throw herself, in one moment, out of a window for less than this—a woman crushed apparently, and more d.ead than alive, as Grace Carden was.

Then he took out his own letter, and read it in a low voice to Mr. Raby but it afterwards appeared the bride heard every word. "MY BEST FRIEND,—Forgive me for neglecting you so long, and writing enly to her I love with all my sou!. Forgive me, for I smart for it. I have written fifteen letters to my darling Grace, and received no reply. I wrote her one yesterday, but have now no hope she will ever get it. Thi is terrible, but there is worse behind. This very dav I have learned that my premises were blown up within a few hours of my leaving, and poor, faithful Jael Dence nearly killed and!'- then a report of my o-vn death was "fained, and some remains found in the ruins that lools said were mine. I suppose the letters I It ft in the box were all destroyed by the fire,"Now, mark my werds, one and the same villain has put that dead man's hand and arm in the river, and has stopped mv letters to Grace I am sure c-f it. So what I want .you to do is, first of all, to see my darling, and tell her I am alive and well, and then put her on her guard against ueceivers. "I suspect the postman has been tam pered with. I write to Mr. Ransome to look into that. But what you might learn for me is, whether any body lately has had any opportunity to stop letters addressed to "Woodbine Villa That seems to point to Mr. Carden, and he was never a friend of mine. But, somehow, 1 don't think he would do it. "You, see, I ask myself two questions. Is there any man in the world who has a motive strong enough to set him tamper ing with my letters? and, again, is there anv man base enongh to do such an act? And the answer to both questions is the same. I have a rival, and he is base enough for any thing. Judge for yourself. I as good as saved that Coventry's life one snowy night, and all I asked "in return was that he wouldn't blow me to the trades, and so put my life in jeopardy. He gave me his word of honor he would not. But he broke his word. One day, when Grotaid and I were fast friends, and never thought to differ again, Grotraid told me this Coventry was the very man that came to hirn and told him where I was working. Such a lump of human diitas that—for you can't call him a man—must be capable of anything."

Here the reading of" the letter was inten upted by an incident. There wa.s on the toilet table a stiletto, with a pearl handle. It was a small thing, but the steal rather long, and very bright and pointed.

The unfortunate bride without lifting her head from the table, had reached out her hand, and. was fingering this stiletto. Jaei Dence went and took it gently away, and put it out of reach. The bride went on fingering, as if she had still got hold o: it.

Amboyne exchanged an approving glace with Jael, and Raby concluded the letter. "I shall be home in a few days after this and, if I find my darling well and happy, there's no great harm done. 1 don't mind my own trouble and anxiety, great as they are, but if any scoundrel has made her unhappy, or made her believe I am dead, or talse to my darling by God, I'll 11 him though I hang for it next aay!"

Crushed, benumbed, and broktn as Grace Coventry was, this sence seemed to act on her like an electric -.heck. ahe started wildly up. "What! my Hen*y die like a felon—for a villain like h:m, and an idiot like me! You won't allow that nor you—nor I."

A soft step came to the door, and a gentle tap.

Who is that r" said Docter Ambone. "The bridegroom," replied in a soft voice.

You can't come in here," said Raby, roughly. ••Open the door," said the bride.

Jael wen: to the door, bat looked uncertain. Do.i't k.-ep the bridegroom out," said -Grace, rtproachfnlly. Then, iu a voice as sweet as hi» own, "I want to see him Jael opened the door slow y, for she felt uneasy. Rabby shrugged his should ers coniem^tously at Grace's condescend

ing to speak to the man,and "n so amiable a tone. Coventry entered, and began,

two kinds. The

an am he

taMy

dear Grace, the carriage is ready—" No sooner had she got him fairly into the room, than the bride snatched up the stiletto, and flew at the bridegroom with gleaming eves, uplifteo the weapon, the veil of a furious wild beast, and hair iying out behind her head like a lion's mane!

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[TO BK CONTINUED.] if

ffj*

«, i-t, $ /1 if*,"* ,i" '¥«»''%. 15?,' v' 7 The Centaur Liniments

are' of

White

is for the hu-t

\cllow

is or

heep, a.id other animals. Testimonials of the effects produced by these remarksable Preparations are wrapped aroun a a re any druggist, on by mail from the office of THE CENTAUR COMPANY, 48 Dey Street, New York City.

& HER OWN WORDS. A'

SAFE AND SURE.

BALTIMORE, MD., Feb. 13, U77.

MR- II. R, STEVKN8: Dear Sir,—Since several years I hfcve'tfot as a sore and very puimul foot. 1 had physician*, bu. tliey couldn't cure mo. Nowe 1 havo heard of your Voiyutiiie rom a ladv^ who was Hick for a longtime, and b.came al'l* well Irom your Vcgetibu, and I went bought me one bottle ol Vegetine and altar I had used 011a bottle tho paius lef me, and It begau to heal, and then I bought ono other bc»it c. and so I take it yet- I thank Uodfer thi* remedy and yourself aud wishing •verv1' sufferer m.y pay attoution to it. ItiealW blessing for health. M.-.s C. KltAUK,bS8 West Ba'timoro Street.»»

VrJ£UETINE.

4» -if

MR. il. 11. STEVENS: In 1872 your Vetfytme was recommended to me and, yielding to to the persuasions of &SV--friend, I consented to trv it. At tho time 1 was suffering irom general debility and nor-' vousprori tree ion, superinduced by overwork. aud irregular habits. Its wouderful.. strengthening and curative proprrt'ea seencd to aueot my debilitated system irom ther first dose and under its permstent use 1 rapidly recovered, gaining more than usual health and goo feeling, til ace then I have not hesitated to givo Vegetine *»y most un-jiy qualiiied indorsement, as being a safe, IUJSTO and powerful agent in promoting health and restoring the wasted stein to new lite aad, energy. Vegetine is the only medicine I use, and us long as I live, I never expect to dad a ketter. Yours truly,

W. Ii. (JLAltK,

120 Montgomery St., A.ileghanny, t'ean. ft™

VEGETItfE.

THE BEST SPRING MEDICINE. CllAliLl£sTt*"A\ M«. l£. ft, fcTEVIi.N'o:

Hear Sir,-This is to certify that have si used your "Blood I'reparation' lu my family iw?' for several years, an., think that for oerofu A

Cankerous Humors or Kheumutic affec- IK tions it cannot oe excelled aud asabiMd 11 rider and spring medicine it is the best 1 lung i. have ever used, and 1 have used almost, everything. I can cheerfully recom--tend it to any one inneedolauchaineaiciae. lours respectfully, Mas. A. A. liNSMOKi£, 19 U.issell Street.

.yjEGJETiNE. •.

WHAT 18

NEEDED. V'i

-u BOSTON, eb. 13,1871. II. 11. stjcvkns ESQ: Dear Sir,—About one year since I fonadP myse.f iu a Keb conuitiou irom general debility. Vis.otine was strongly recommended to in -7 by a friend who liuu been much benell cd o, itu use. I procured the article, ami, alter usmi several 0 /tiles, was restored to health, and ucout.uued its use. 1 IcjI quite coniideut that there IH no medicine au-» •erior to it lor thoHC complaints for which is especially prepared, and wouiu oheerftUiyf recommend it to those who feel that they need something 10 restore them to nerfect health,

Rjspetstfully yours, U.L. Fx/lTkNUILL, Firm of S. M. fettengili Co.,

No. 10 state St., Boston

VEGETINE.

.Yl,

ALL HAVE OBTAINED REJE.C. SOUTH BcawicK, Mu Jun. 1?, io72. 11. R. Sr£V£KS, l£Ht).

Dear Sir,—1 u&vu had dyspepsia la its Worst form for the last tou ea s, und iiave~ Utkeu buudi eds ot •toilers' wor.b of v.cdieines wi.nutoutatniug

...

i.ny

renef. la Sep-

teinbtr ust a couimeiiCed taking the \vgvtiue, fc.uce mJu^ii emu my huait lias steaai--ly improved. My Xuod aigesis wo i, anal have giiinej ilfucn Uwunus of lies a. iiiere are dC/.-ral oilie. la thu p^aoe utK.ng Vugjbiuc, liJi. il havt it-uuoU relic..

Kum tiul, ., .*

r?S

l'liOJlAn b. MOOliE,

I oversee. 01 .^urd KuUoj, 1'urtSiiiuuih CO'B. MINI.

VEG-ET1NJB.

iiJEjeAUKi, BK

il. B. Stevens, Boston, Mass.

Vegeiina is sold by all Druggists

Canada &ouciic»ru rtailway

JS&sl.

Tiieonly ruiite through c^iife.a under American libnttxement.

riie Short aucfc Quick

Jv Line to tfce limit

Buffalo and Niagara Falls frect Connections made at Toledo la same depot with ail Wabash Kailwav Trains. Connectioni made at Buffalo and Niagara

Falls with New York Central and title Railways. Wagner Sleeping and Parlor Car On all Trains to Principal Points East.

The Canaua Southern is one of the best constructed and equiped roads on the continent, andita fast increasing business is evidence that its superiority over its competitors Is acknowledged and appreciated by the travel ng public.

Any inl„i nation as to tickets, connections leepng car a ecu in modations, etc., cheerfully given on application to ti-e unuersigned.

Frank E. Snow,

Gen'l Pass. aadT'ck't A^t^ Detroit.