Terre Haute Weekly Gazette, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 21 June 1883 — Page 2

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LIFE L\ AlMKALiA."

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CHAPTER VEU

-'"A NABROW ESCAPE.

Three weeks had elapsed since Philip Bathurst had joined the motley crowd at the diggings, and fortune had not l)een unkind to him.

All day he worked, and in the night built castles for the future, wherein Flo played the prineipal part. But for Mark'a death never would digger have "been more jolly.

When a man is in that humor he generally craves for a confidant, as far as he could Philip made the Jew one. Isaac Lewis had seemed to take a special liking to the young fellow, or rather to rely uponhia youth, strength, and generous njtfure. J'hiiip's was mot the nature to reftise anyone help that he could give, so when the Jew, half apologetically, announced, his desire to rear nis little tent by the young fellow's, Philip lent him a hana.

He compassionated him also for his infirmity of deafness, which was so great that it isolated him from all, for no one paid heed save Philip to "Deaf Old Clo," the nickname bestowed on him, as with stooped form he slunk about the diggings. "You are unfortunate in your claims.'" remarked Philip Bathurst one day to the Jew: "and so you ever will be, Lewis, if you don't stick to one with more perseverance. No sooner do you get a root below the surface than you give it up and go elsewhere." "Elsevere. Yes, yes—he—he," nodded the Jew. "You shall see, Mishter Bathurst. He—he—hel only vait and I shall be as rich as I vants. There ish good stherling gold to be found, and I shall find it. He—he—he!" "Obstinate old chap," muttered Philip as he marched away, his pick over his shoulder.

As he went the Jew ceased working, and looked after him, a strange expression in his bright eyes. Then shouldering his own pick he went off in another direction, finally pitching upon another piece of land, and echoing his pick into it with wonderful vigor.

Near the spot were two diggers in high boots and garibaldi, lying near their claim, drinking and talking earnestly. At the sound of the pick, «ne glanced round. "It's only 'Old Clo,'" laughed the other. "If any chap was a disgrace to his tribe it's him. I thought Jew's noses could smell gold a mile off. I "I reckon he's got a tile loose He's always digging where there ain't a bit of chance, and where there is he leaves it. But: hadn't we better move our quarters?" 'Cause of him? Why, he'd hardly hear a gun let off close at his ear. You

Raising his voice he called:—

"Deaf old Clot you won't git much out Of that claim, it's been worked." The Jew paused, looked vaguely up, placed his hand behind his ear, ttren proceeded with his pick.

You see, he counts for nothing so now, whit was I saying?" And the two men resumed their conversation.

Philip Bathurst had a glorious find that day, almost the biggest nugget the diggings had produced.

Others had witnessed his good luck, tad the intelligence ran through the ?amp.

Flushed and delighted he gave over ^ork at dusk, and returned to his tent. Time never hung heavily on his hands. the breast-pocket of his garibaldi jere three letters from Flo, and no occupation was so sweet and interesting as the re-perusal of these.

His candle lighted he employed some of his time in reckoning up his gains. They almost exceeded his hopes. "If matters go on like this," he reflected, "in less than another month I may get the colonel to purchase me a station, and—and soon after that"— with a thrill of delicious joy—"I may make Flo, my sweet darling Flo—my wife. It's very jolly workjjag*for her hot it will be far more so when I haw her by my side, her dear he&d on nry breast, and her eyes—Heaven bless them!—shyly, yet fondly, meeting mine.. Ah, to work—work, for every nour I bring that time nearer is An extra hour of paradise.

So in order to be up at dawn he put out the light and threw himself on nis rough bed. and, healthfully tired, speed­f ily slept.

Silence had scarcely fallen over the eamp when the opening at Isaac Lewis's tent was slightly raised, and the Jew crept forth. Keeping the shadow, he crawled to the darkest side of Philip Bathurst's tent, drew out Jiis knife, made a deep rent in the canvas, ana pulled himself through.

The young man's breathing told where he laid, the Jew stole along to his side, then quickly placed one hand on his shoulder, and,one on his mouth, while he whispered as, Philip sprang np: "Hush, not a word for your life! I'm Lewish. There'sh to be an attack on your tent to-night." "By whom?'"exclaimed Philip. "Get up and dress have your pishtols ready." "Is it any of the diggers, Isaac?" queried Philip, as he obeyed "Tut! he cannot hear me, and I dare not raise my voice. It's to steal my nugget."

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

JTondering who "they" could be. Hip approached the door, when Isaac Ids drew him back. ^No, no. They vill ahee yo»» Tfcisthere ish shadows. The vatf lgot

"And a remarkably cool way,too*" reflected the voung fellow nevertheless, orpine on hands and £nees, and folI. .vine the Jew. in in

(T-^ob fe w^itnu it Liisftax kid rw v«f«. ?t

"ir ye are stnni, ve vill eaten 'em," whispered Isaac. "Ve vill unmask 'em they shall not escape. He, he, he."

Even as be spoke, a blue thread of light, atrthft which betrays a pow* train, d&rtea froM the Jew's tent to Philip's, pact where fits bed was.

There #as« loud expl dflighf,€ndthe tent fragments.

Philip and Lewia^were flflffg to the ground from the concussIWffDut swiftly sprang tn thnir fret, and in t.he lare of the blazing tent came almost ace to face with two rough diggers

who were advancing rapidly. "That's 'fry" r-'r1 'em. #iey wuBhitt eaciiape.1

"Seise

Tiie villains had, however, already leapedbacfc aS one did so, he aimed his revolver aridnrecT.

Philip Batfiurstgave tatifntfte air and fell with a'jpan to the gtwind.. Isaac Le^ uttefftlg aififiiti'j*' Bowl

stopped is their "flight, and speedily were lost in the darkness. The Jew did not pursue. Instead, with every indication of sorrow, he flung himself down by Philip Bathurst. Eagerly by the light of-the flames he examined his. face, then felt his pulse.

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

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

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

The wound proved of afar less dangerous character than the Jew had imagined. Indeed, it was not serious, though Philip Bathurst must give up* gold-digging for some time. Isaac Lewis at once constituted himself his nurse, taking his place by his bedside.

It was near dawn when Philip, his senses clearer, said, regarding the Jew fixedly: "Isaac, I owe my life to you. But for you I must have fallen a victim to those scoundrels' plans to blow me into fragments. Yet I am in a fog. Tell me

"Nothing," interrupted the Jew, with a quick glance round at the other occupants of the tent. "You must not talk, but shleep. Vait, Mishter Bathurst: veto you are better you* may spheak. The words were accompanied by a meaning glance.

Perforce Philip had to obey but no sooner did those who had given .him shelter depart fortheirday's work, than he exclaimed: "Now, Isaac, may I speak?" "Yesh. I villanswer."

EDWARD LAURIE."

"Isaac," exclaimed Philip, rising up, "wound or no, I must get back to Shad^ Creek,'and from thence to Eng-

l3"England!"

v'

"Yes, my uncle is ill. The solicitor recalls me. I must lose no time. Pray procure me a horse. My gold I will leave in your care." "Your gold you viU take vith you." answered the Jew. "If you are fit to

you

travel you are not fit to do so alone, shall go too." tt vi Philip grasped his hand. -3 "You area friend indeed," he ejaculated.

Isaac Lewis made no rejoinder, but hastened from the tent. He had soon everything prepared, but secretly that none but two oi^ three of the projected departure tor

so knew the Jew cure the villains who had fired the tent, they might, for all they khew, behotering somewhere in tne frnges, and might lie in ambush for the two. $hus, at about midnight, when all was Still, and the moon only beginning fo throw silvery lines down lift hillside, Philip Bathurst quitted the camp, proceeding to a clump of trees by the rive?, where Isaac Lewis waited With the loadedhorses.

JW said, as they had railed to to-

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

Philip, in the thought of again seeing Fie, felt little of his wound. Besides, how bright, possibly, now was his future. It must not be imagined that he, even remotely, rejoiced that his uncle's days were numbered. He, indeed, prayed that they were not but, if he would only once more acknowledge him as his heir, then there would be no need to dig up a. fortune before Colonel Grainger would consent to his marriage with his niece.

On the morning of their arrival at the station, Flo sat at work in the verandah with her aunt, while Herbert Archer stood near in conversation, flicking his boot with his riding-whip and his dark eyes fixed on Flo. watching the delicate curve ol her throat, the rose flush on her cheek.

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

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

Herbert Archer was not slow to perceive this and to work upon it, taking care to make her fearless in his presence under the belief that he had conquered that love which, in truth, was consumiqj him ad a furnace the reoqptaole which it burns.

Even, at the present moment wild ad thouifht^ oassed through his brain

»oj toitnd

Jiw

uu'Jji 9iit

de trap

Crane.

IV-

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

•l Us

-But—hush!"

he hastily interrupted himself. "Somebody ish coming." It was the third da: and Phil confinei letter that had been sent on by the colonel. He instantty recognized the Writing of the Bathttrsta' solicitor, with whom he had kett up communication. Eagerly he tore it open, and read these brief sentences: "Mr DEAR MR. PHILIP:—Your uncle has had a fit. He is much enfeebled. He has for the first time made inquiry respecting you. The doctor says it is doubtful if he can live six months. Come back at onqecyou ought Opt to be so far away. From what I can Judge, 1 am sure he is softening toward you. Come. In haste, mail Just starting, yours faithfully,

as the third day after the attack, A^here° pomes lilip Was growing restless under F^mef B&nt, w&en Isaac brought him a

THE TERRE HAFTE WEEKLY GAZETTE.

ot seizing ner in ms arms, camrmg ner to where his horse stood at the gate, and escaping into the bush.

Mat," he said mentalwork safest out there, ne if already, aftd my utin a claim, none will six foot of eaah." ry^jnoment, MrsJDrane, head up, ana holding her

needle high to thread it, exclaimed: «pno, see on the hill yonder are not those visitors coming to the station?" "They am t»n hnrgflman nnmin(j

I I

rtiia

With the interest of those who Hve

Suddenly, almost instantaneously, a change came over-the 4oaturea of Flo and Herbert Archer both of surprise, but onft pff Jojfe the other of fury.— and

then cried: "It is! it is! Oh, it is, auntie. See, he is waving his hair «Itis Philip. Let us meet him."

"It is he^cujbdWml" muttered Herbert Archer between^ his teeth then With a bitter smile he added: "I will say good-morning, Mrs. Crane I feel I should be

at thts happy meet-

ing" *Poor young man/

reflected Aunt

lfAl^£e'dhave

been the man

for my money. 156 noble, and has taken his disappointment so well." Herbert Archer strode to the gate and mounted his horse* "Miss Grainger," he said, in a low tone, "you will pardon my going. I could not bear to see you meet."

She had no v^ords to speak, but extended her hand with a glance of compassionate kindness. He took it, and, bending, touched his lips to it. "I would give all I possess—nay, life itself," he exclaimed, fervently, "to be Philip Bathurst at this ifioment."

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

That was for a moment all they said, as he clasped her to his heart, Isaac Lewis having taken the horses round to the stable. Then consternation came into her eyes as she exclaimed: "But, on, my Philip, you are ill. Your face is pale and thin." "Mj darling," he laughed gaily, "no man can be ill who feels the happiest being in creation. Even were I dying, I feel one glance of your sweet countenance would'bring back life." "Ah, Philip, you cannot deceive me. You are ill. If not, why have you returned so unexpectedly?" "Flo, dearest, I come because I have news—great news. I have to start for England at once." "England!" and the color yet further faded from her cheek. "Yes, love. Don't look frightened, for the only obstacle to our union, Flo, I trust now will be speedily removed. the colonel. Let us will tell you all."

The "all" was speedily told, and listened to by £he hearers with different feeling. Flo forgot everything but the attack and the danger Philip had run. She nestled closer to his side, as if. While there, no further harm could reach him.

The colonel, a soldier who had him­

self been more than bnce wounded, thought only of the chance of Philip's being reinstated in his uncle's favor. "Quite right, my boy," he exclaimed. "You must not delay. You ftrast gb at once. Where's the last paper frtm Sydney. Here it is. The Clan Buchanan starts for England on the twentieth. If you go by that, which you ought to, you should leave here to-morrow. Are you strong enough?" •t"Oh, no," murmured Flo. "Yes, colonel," replied Philip, smiling. "A day and night's rest will set me up again." "That's right, and the rest you shall have. Kate and I will see to your preparations, so don't you worry."

1

With a consideration that showed he had not forgotten his ownyoung days, the colonel took care that £1o ana Philip should have much of the time to themselves, while it was very blissful to Philip to be waited on by so sweet a nurse for Flq persisted in his taking the rest which ne really much needed on the sofa,, while she attended to him, ior Bat side .by side, hand clasped in hand, eye* fixed on eyes, often lips pressed tb Hps. "Philip," said Flo, "I tremble at your going, ana yet I know you must." "Indeed I must. But how .short, love, will be our parting' in Comparison to our first!" "Yps but what may not happen in a ghorttime? Even at the gold-fields ftrn would have been killed out for that good Lewis." "Truly yes but. love, the kind fortune whicn brought us together, preserved me then. Let us trust it will continue to preserve both of us, for do not you imagine I feel anxiety for dangers you may run here, as you for me my voyage?" "I run dangers!" she smiled "that is not likely. But the sea "The sea," he laughed "think of the thousands of ships upon it, and the few that harm comes to. But, at any rate, do not let us waste these happy moments by gloomy forebodings." "That's my idea," remarked the colonel, stepping into the darkening room "so let us have lights and a merry evening."

Before the lights were brought, Philip drew his betrothed to his heart, and as he kissed her white forehead, whispered: "Darling, you will not be low-spirit-ed, for my sake." "For yours, I promise, Philip, and I ask the same from you." "My wife,'' he whispered, and never had tney felt how deep and unswerving was their affection as at that momenC

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

Isaac Lewis was among those who saw him off. Flo had taken a particular liking to him for the service he had rendered Philip, and the Jew had promised to remain awhile at the 3tation before returning to the diggings.

lAs

lo

Philip Bathurst shook his hand

a

-in parting, bending, he whiskered, hur- that it won bot' xie3fcj}h.,

-•a M3W w.oaGtflv town also: 3d* al zifo latal si notjL iaoc. iru,

go wrcnout rear, for trust in you." "You may," nodded the Jew: then, with a respectful salutation, Stepped quickly back.

CSlAFTEB Vm. A.GE FROM THE qtjKESf.

UIATJ

VplAGE

A

way, auntie but whether especially lmtors I^nn^t fiay." !, r'f "They are riding fast," put in HeroertArcher, as Fk, ri»ng, stood by his niirrVW'sTvS TiaiRnST' fPTTTiA 'V'nnm

1 3

uTel!

gracious m6? what it

wmtr cjwuuiiied Mrs. Crane, straight* ing her form, which had been bent over •j

Diercing scream, brief, but full of Buffering had rung abruptly through

ever is the matter?9'

A A A A A A

where she had left her niece. Entering, She found ColOnffl ftrtfnjjpr k&feAing on the

floor,

the younr girl resting in his

arms,: pale, mottonfess aa though dead. "Kate," he, exclaimed in cQiiaternation, as his sister appeared!, "what is the meaning. ciC thief What: is it?" 'i "I, don't Imow-r brother. I left the poor child quite well. Dear, dparl" "Didyounearher cry?" "I did, and came at once. Oh, Flo, Flo, speak, dear," cried the old, lady.

us what it Is, my darling. How Hke death she looks. Lift her on the -aofa, brother."

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

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

He had not to look far. There was the truths—the terrible truth—in the largest, blackest type: 'Toundering of the Australian ship, the Clan Buchanan. Loss of 270 lives. The coxswain alone saved." "Great Heavens!" cried the colonel, "that she should have seen it first! The blow may kill her. Who—who could have been the confounded friend to send the intelligence in this way?"

What intelligence, brother? Oh, do speak." "That the Clan Buchanan had foundered in the South Atlantic, and—and Philip Bathurst, poor lad!"—the colonel's voice trembled—"is drowned with the rest. My darling, pray Heaven to give you strength to bear this."

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

Would she bear it? Would she survive it?" They were the two questions speedily asked ty all at Shady Creek, where poor Flo lay delirious at times, calling upon Philip to return, at others to save ner from the fearful waves she imagined were rushing forward to overwhelm her.

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

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

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

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

The colonel made his story as brief as he was able to. The Clan Buchanan had had a fair vovage until nearing the equator, when it was strtick by a tempest of a cyclone description. For a time the ship was despaired of, but finally the hurricane had abated, and the crew tod passengers A^eve rejoicing with light ana grateful hearts over their escape from death when the heavy roll of the veftsel informed the practised seamen that anew danger threatened. A leak had been sprang and the hold was rapidly filling. Men were ordered to the pumpa, but It wtus futile.

Already the ship was water-logged. Worse, still, the swrm had damaged all the boats. The carpenter haa been summoned to make the least injured serviceable, when, with a sudden, unexpected roll, the Clan Buchanan had pitched forward .and as the moon broke out clear and calm over the yet ruffled water's, foundered with all hands.

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

That was the story brought by an outward-bound vessel to' Australia. When death closes the scene no further bulletins are necessary there is no hope for those who drown in mid-At-lantic.

Flo knew it, and the resignation that is the result of utter hopelessness fell upon her. She had no tears—her grief was too deep but she resumed her usual occupations, moving about the station, calm, but the shadow of her form* er self. "It will be her death-blow," remarked the colonel with emotion. "Without she is roused replied his sister. "If only another affection could take the place of this——" "Another affection!" cried the colonel, indignantly. "What do you take her for? I'd hold that girl worthless, Kate, who, on the death of one lover, could readily accept another in his place." "There is one who jvouM^dore her," remarked his sister, nodding her head.

And the colonel confessed that so it 8eemedf for once more Herbert Archer became a' constant guest at Shady Creek never, however, intruding upon Flo, but regulating £is Jbehavior' with so deep ana co^pas^opate a sympathy,

•'it is tne thin edge or the wedgex he muttered one day on taking his leave. "IH give her two or three months to overcome her grief for that fellow before I again toy her. If she still refuse-me, then— What, the deuce are you sneaking about me for?" he demanded ifegnfy albud, as Isaac Lewis's stooped flgure^merged from some bushes close by. "Eh? Yes fine day very Que, Misther Archer," replied the Jew, his hand to his ear as he moved past.

Isaac Lewis had been absent from the station, when the news arrived of the foundering of the Clan Buchanan. How he had received the intelligence noneJuieWr-hut on-hie return he-had apparently devoted himself to Flo, who, owing to his having saved Philip's life, had taken a great liking to him.

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

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

And expectant, Flo dropped back into her seat. "Well, Archer," remarked the colonel, meeting him, "we thought you were in Sydney." "I have just returned from there, colonel, a day earlier than I intended, for I

Dring,

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

At the sound of his entrance Flo looked up surprised. "Pardon this intrusion, Miss Grainger," he said quickly, deferentially "but I could not leave without asking your pardon." "Pardon! Mr. Archer. Nay, I should rather seek yours. I owe you many thanks," she answered softly. "No. You were quite right. I ought not to have brought the paper. I wish I had perished in the bush rather," he persisted. "I, who would save you from all suffering, seem doomed to cause you the most." "No, no, indeed," she broke in, touched by the pain he betrayed. "Yes, th«fonly consolation I have is the knowledge that you are aware how unintentionally I occasion you to suffer." "X know that, I am sure of that," she answered impressively, as she extended her hand. "I much appreciate your friendship."

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

She made a quick movement as if to interrupt him, but checked herself. Finding encouragement in the last action, he proceeded fervently: "That was when one lived who had a

Ead

•.wo, _:2T

rior, abetter claim than mine, for he your love. But now a cruel fate has plucked him from you, when yet you are young, when you have so many years—years that ought to be full of brightness and happiness—before you. Oh, Florence, may I not hope? Nay, do not answer directly think, I entreat. I do not ask for your reply whether I may indeed be something to you for months—nay, years, if you will only do not say that when time has assuaged |rourprief, my love will still be hope-

He had dropped on his knee, and would have retained her hand, but she had drawn it away.

Making an effort to maintain her calmness, Flo, after a pause, answered in a low, gentle voice: "I feared. Mr. Archer, though generously you have pained me by no word or look that after what has occurred you might harbor such thoughts.— Hence, I am glad you have spoken, so that-fthat "Oh, Florence, be merciful." "It is in mercy I speak, Mr. Archer," she answered"getitly, "for it wtfuld be cruel to leave you undeceived. Though time may assist me in hiding my, SQIJTOW, it can'never assuage it^ As true

^to Philio wWetfr betiB verT ofclv

cnance nau parcea us, snaii De to mm now death has done so. No, do not interrupt, I have declared that Philip not being my husband, I die unwedded. I intended you to know this, as my uncle purposed to let you know of our projected visit to England. It is my desire, my prayer, and he has granted it. We start in a month." "England! You start in a month!" cried Herbert Archer, springing up. "Yes." "This—this is your final determination, Miss Grainger. I may harbor not the faintest hope?" "I should but cruelly deceive you did Isayyes." "Then I will pain you no more with my presence nevertheless, one day, Florence, you may learn how desperately I love you..'?

Inclining his h£ad he passed hastily from the room. The next was still empty, th&tolonel had quitted the verandah, tb unchecked Herbert Archer reachMlns horse and rode swiftly from the stitton.

A firm, let resolve was on his dark features, and he muttered as he went: "It is well I know the truth. I must delay no longer, but see Mat at once, for mine you shall be Florence Grainger and"—'with a laugh~Mby your own consent." [The continuation of this story will be foundj iQ

tbe

paper.]

perhaps, something that

may please Miss Grainger." "Something," murmured the colonel, while Flo again half rose. "Yes a message from the Queen a word of sympathy from her Majesty to the relatives anfl friends of those who were in the Clan Buchanan."

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

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

succeeding issues ot this

Bright*!

WMMO

Sk«aulUtlODi

and

I

J.r

si

No. 415^ OHIO STREET

TERRE HAUTE, INDIRA, {Established 1875.)

ftr

all JHgetue of the Eye, Ear, B*c.* Throatt L**ng» and all Chronic Disease.

•Especially CHRONIC DISEASES of Women Children Fistula, Piles, Lupus,Cancers, Op»t" Habit. Rheumatism, Neuralgia, Ssin Diseases,

Lin

EASES of the 8TOMACH, LIVER, SPLEEN, HEAk diseases of the Kidueys and Bladder, and all diseaat the Genito-Crin&r System. ALL NERVOUS

i.,i-

EASES: Paralysis, Chorea or St. Vitus Dance, h/: lepey, Catalepsy, SCROFULA in all its forms, anci «. those diseases not successfully treated by the "rti Physician" and Deformities

of

furnished.

all kinds, and instrum&

ELECTRICITY and EZECTBICBA1

All cases of Ague, Dumb Ague or Caland Fever, Fistula, Piles, Ulcers and fissure' of the Rectum, Lupua, most Canoers, most Skin Dii eases, Female Diseases generally, Qranalated Lid*. Ulcers of tbe Cornea, Weak and Sore Eyes, CatiM of tbe Eye, Bar, Nose, Throat or Skin CEczema*,

fi

Spermatorrhoea or diseases peculiar to Men and YouOw Operations f«t »--**eium. Strabismus or Cross Bynj Artificial Purf^ Dp»A* Habit, Tape Worms, Hydroc%.«. Varicocele, Hernia at Rupture, Epilepsy or FiU, »W Sore Legs, Old Sar«* /^pvwher® upon the body Riie* matism, Aaute ot 0*3, O«ncirrboea, Syphilis «.»i Chancroid*

4

..

ud IMlloas Colic, Etc.

hiTitod.

Address with star

THE

rAdmraton

ii

09TEM -.'."H

WOULD.

Mrs. S:A:Allen's

WORLDS

PERFECTIONi

PsUio BwiefketrtM.

9.

Mrs. S.

A. ALLEN has justly earned this title, and thousands are this day rejoicing over a fine head of hair produced by her unequaied preparation for restore j" ing, invigorating, and beautifying the .fHair. Her World's Hair Restorer

quickly cleanwi the scalp, removing Dandruff and arrests the fall the hair, if gray, is changed to its natural color, giving it the tame vitality and luxurious quantity as in youth.

I COKFLIXEHTARY. My hair is now restored to its youthful color I have not a gray Hair left. I am satisfied that the preparation Is not a dye, but acts on the secretions. My hair .. ceases to fall, which is certainly an advantage to me, who was in danger of be- $ Coming bald." This is the testimony of all who use Mrs. S. A. ALLEN'S

WORLD'SHAIR RESTORER. "One Boftle did it."

•a

Thuhthe

expression of many who have had

r*j.

tkeir gray hair restored to its natural S color, ana their bald spot coveted with hair, after using one bottle of

MRS. S. A. AUDI'S WORLD'S HAIR Rxsroxn. Itisaotadye.

J", 4 *jf

I

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WORTH SENDING FOR I

Dr. J. H. 8CHENCK has Just published a book co

DISEASES OF THE LIIN8S

Ull HOW TO CURE THEM offered FREjkj^pa^joallWpllrarito

valuable information

*4 W

::uf

for all who snppoM

veswfflicted with, or 111 ole to any dtoeaae jf AddrtBS

tdclungB. Mention this paper. iCHEKOK A SOW, Philadelphia, Fa

I if yu

uruA

St^iuk or 9mnum

Axafc)

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