A Vidim of
Complications
——
Gy SOPHIE HAMMOND.
liifl jtSjl T was the second day out
—' from Southampton. The
sea was demonstrating
rprt j—| how disagreeable, in a
gjjj^JjjJl quiet way. It could be, and
the deck was emptying rapidly.
'Powell smoking with his back to the
rail, was realizing what a bore it was
to be crossing with a number of Ger
mans "and not an acquaintance on
That girl with the wind
blown hair over there was an Ameri
can; but how the dickens
Syrhe occupant of a steamer chair
u%r him got up, and the movement
roapde him turn. As Ills glance fell
upofei the old lady who had risen, he
smiled quickly,
k "Miss Lockhart!" he exclaimed. "I
[didn't know you were on boat-d. I'm
feufraid you're finding this motion uu-
Can I—get anything?"
f*Thank you, Captain Powell," she
gasped, stiffly, "but my niece will as
sist me."
The girl had put down her writing
and come hastily forward.
"Help me to my stateroom, Madge,"
said the old lady with dignity. "I
am 111."
When the niece came back to her
scattered writing materials an hour
later Fowell turned from his contem
plation of the sea.
"I hope your aunt Is better. Miss
liockhart," he said with polite solici
tude. The girl raised her eyes and
looked at him curiously for a moment.
"Thank you," she said, formally,
aiul dropping them again; "just now
she is asleep, but I'm afraid she is
suffering a great deal."
"Oh. she'll probably be all right by
tnorning." Powell observed, reassur
ingly. "It's this nasty pitching that
lias laid her up."
"When Aunt Emily goes below it ife
long before she reappears," she §*ftd.
r'tftU. she looked at him agaiiyf "It
"was jHSaratojra. on the liner of the
New that her,
iVasn'j itVlf
"Yew last We were both
r»n the'ookout for health. I don't think
she remembered me at first."
Rhenrad taken up her writing case
and opened it on her knee.
"01, she knew you perfectly," she
said.land resumed her writing so os
tensibly that Powell, after a moment,
shrugged his shoulders and walked
off. I
i But there really wasn't .another soul
en board to speak to. He could not
talk,to the Germans. For n time he
"•"wlnTflftTd iflbont, bored and aimless.
> But finally he found himself again by
the side of his reserved young coun
trywoman, doing his usually success-
Iful best to make himself entertaining.
afterward, when ever she was on
jHck. he was generally to be found be
uße her.
was rather unappreclativo at
' first. She didn't laugh whenever she
might have been expected to, and she
let hi\n do most of the talking. But
now and then a subject would come up ,
so particularly interesting that she was
drawn into it in spite of herself, and
nfter several relapses the stiffness
could not be regained.
When they were more than half way
across the Atlantic Miss Lock hart
put in a brief appearance on deck.
Powell had counted on a good deal of
friendliness from her. for she had
shown him quite marked attention at
Cannes, where, as an invalid from Cu
ba. his wound had made him some
thing of a lion. But the sea seemed
to have worked havoc with her dispo
sition, and she responded to all at
tempts at conversation With a resent
ful snappishness that vpas dlsconcert
ing. The by her second
Hjtcedj not unalloyed.
|Bremark of a pas
i: iTirUiere's
his breath
to myself."
a brushing of skirts past-
Hflm.
"I can't persuade her to move," said
a girl's voice, plaintively, as its owner
sank into a chair. "I really believe
she is worse now than she was at first.
To think of her having come abroad
for the sea air and being obliged to
L stay in that stuffy little cabin all the
k rway across! And it's been such lovely
"Perfect,'* Powell acquiesced, glanc
ing up at the brilliant sky. "A con
trast to when I crossed in the other di
rection a mouth ago—on my wedding
trip."
, His companion looked up. - t
' "Your wedding trip!" she repeated,
' -slightly puzzled smile. "What
has happened to the bride?"
"I don't know," said Powell, savage
ly. "or care!"
The girl laughed.
! "How dreadful!" she murmured.
' "Oh, I'm In earnest," said Powell,
Jerkily. "Didn't you read in the pa
pers about that old millionaire who
left half of his money to the son of
one friend and half to the daughter of
another on condition that they would
many each other and not let any of
hit accumulation get Into the hands
of people he didn't know? Well, I'm
the man in the story. We had never
set eyes on each other, but we both
wanted the money, so we compiled
j/lth the proviso."
"You—married her?" asked the girl,
paling n little.
"Six weeks ago in New York. It
must have looked, a queer affair to
outsiders. One dismal morning my
lawyer and I drove to the registrator's
office, and as we came in by one door
another lawyer, with an old gentleman
and lady and three girls all in short
skirts and blouses and brown veils,
entered by another. We all bowed
and then the registrator called our
names and I and one of the girls—lt
might have been any of them, for all
I knew—went up to the desk and an
swered n few questions and wrote our
names. The lawyers gave us each a
deed of separation to come Into force
at once. Then we all bowed again
and the family party got into a car
riage and drove off. and I—l hail a
two months' furlough, you know, for
the honeymoon—came abroad to get
out of the talk."
His listener's color had faded entire
ly.
"Her name was Margaret Kennedy,
wasn't it?" she said slowly. "I went
to school with her. She "
"Oh, you needn't hesitate," said
Powell, with a short laugh. "I've had
several fetching descriptions of her.
She's A 1 at a bargain, as I know by
experience. And her voice and—er—
looks impressed me even through the
veil."
"She wasn't pretty, cbrtalnly, or very
popular, but she was well born, of
course, and " she was speaking with
evident effort now. "Oh, there is the
steward," she said, rising. "I—l
must-see if he hasn't something to
coax auntie to eat."
Powell gazed after her, his face
rather colorless, too.
"It can't be that she Bah? I
haven't the right even to think of such
a thing. She'd resent It desperately,"
he said under bis breath, turning again
to the sea. "Wonder if I can get
through the next two days without
behaving like a cad?"
But hi the morning Miss Lockhart
emerged from her seclusion, probab
ly nfcainst her will, and the day passed
quite unconstrainedly. When the last
inorning came Powell was silent and
stern and Madge was absorbedly so
licitous of her aunt's comfort, but the
final parting was conventional enough.
As their cab bore the aunt and niece
away from the docks the girl drew a
quick sigh.
"A soldier and a gentleman!" she
murmured with a little sigh, but there
was a glow in her face, nevertheless.
The city awoke under weeping skies.
Powell, In his club window, gazed
gloomily down on the dripping streets.
The disgust that his whole appearance
bespoke, ho\yever, was not for the dis
mal prospect, but for the years that
were stretching, in his imagination,
without interest and wearisome ahead
of him. He was sick of the army, he
told himself, and of civilization. As
for that pile of money in the bank
he loathed the thought of it.
One of the club waiters brought him
a letter and he tore It open, indiffer
ently, and his face changed as he
drew It out.
"I would not write this," he read,
"except that you would learn It from
some one else. It was your own mis
take in the beginning, you will re
member, In taking for granted that my
name was the same as that of my
mother's sister. And in self-defense I
could not do less than leave you under
the delusion, though my aunt strong
ly disapproved. I am sorry that the
only time we are likely to meet I
should seem to have been passing un
der false colors. But for the future,
I beg you will believe, I shall take as
good care of your name as you do
yourself.
"Margaret Kennedy Powell."
Without a change in his attitude
Powell stood staring down at the pa
per in his hand. Then he winced
sharply.
"What a fool I must hav? looked!"
he muttered, the dark color rising in
his face.
Miss Lockliart was deep in the appre
hensive delights of unpacking when
a maid entering, announced:
"A gentleman to see Mrs. Powell."
"It's the landlord," said Miss Lock
hart, sharply. "I expected him. Mind,
Madge, if he asks for another penny
you go."
Her niece had risen, with changing
color, and put her hands nervously to
her hair.
"Very well, auntie," she murmured,
vaguely, from the door.
Jn the hall below she passed before
tfie drawing-room portieres; then,
parting them, stopped short on the
threshold.
"Cnptain Towell!" she exclaimed, in
a low voice.
He came quickly forward.
"Oh. you knew I would come," he
said, unsmilingly, taking her hands.
She laughed.
"You made a complete fool of me, I
know," he said, flushing. "It must
have been tremendously amusing.
Heaven only knows what I said, but
you've paid me out for it in the last
two hours. I've been a victim of com
plications from the first. But—oh,
Madge—it is all over now. Isn't it?
and we are together at last."
She gave him her hand and lifted
her eyes to his.
"Yes, Hugh," she said.—The Ameri
can Queen. iAsu.
Bachelor of Arts at Fourteen.
Pierre Alba, a lad of fourteen, has
just received the degree of Bachelor
of Arts from the faculty of literature
of the Paris Unl»#rsity. Owing to a
brilliant Latin essay, with which he
carried ofT a prize in June last, the age
limit fl» A for candidates for the B. A.
degree TV® dispensed with, and Alba
passed fir xyhlversity examination, re
ceiving tUomention "very good." His
father is a Lieutenant-Colonel in the
French Arrajr, jj
The King of
Honey Island.
"And here I must sit, like a cat on
a rug, while yon dance with all these
charming ones," said Fairfax. "It is
I who lose most if accounts are prop
erly squared."
Mr. Vernou was present, passing
among the thronging guests, his stal
wart form and his massive head dis
tinguishing him as one cast in no oorn*
mon mold. He appeared to have
grown and the expression of his
face suggested some inward reserve of
gloom, albeit he smiled aud conversed
-with much of his accustomed stately
vivacity. To him General Jaokson
showed more marked respect than to
any other person in the house.
"You will not thinn me noglectful
of your gallant husband's inestimable
services to me and the country, mad
ame," said the general to Mrs. Liv
ingston, "if I say frankly that I owe
more to Mr. Vernon than to any man
in my army."
"You may trust me not to mis
understand you, general," replied
that lady, with frank earnest
ness. "Mr. Vernon has al
ways been a man of remarkable
influence and executive power. My
husband has often relied upon him,
and - never without avail, in matters
apparently beyond hope. But de
you know," and she lowered hei
voice, "that he is wholly mysterious?'
"Yes; I confess that he is the only
man that I over met whose motive;
and whose character I could not oven
guess at."
"It is comforting to hear you say
so; it confirms me in my romance."
She smiled reininiscently and then
added: "I have always imagined that
some great secret was locked in bis
breast."
"It is the secret of greatness ham
pered by some controlling fate," said
Jackson, half in seriousness, perhaps,
but guided by his chivalrous impulse
to assist Mrs. Livingston in her ro
mautic notion.
"Do you know that his word is law
with the forbans and outlaws?" she
suddenly inquired. "My husband
says that he controls them perfectly."
General Jacksou looked at her,
and then, without replying, masked
his face in an expression of impene
trable reserve. He knew that Liv
ingston himself had been accused of
standing close in with the Lafittes
and other noted law-breakers, and
doubtless he feared that the wife of
his friend might go too far with her
disclosures. Long afterward, in his
old age, he remarked to a friend in
Nashville that, at the time he was
commanding at New Orleans, society
there knew no line of division be
tween gentlemen and robbers. "But,"
he added, "the gentlemen were gen
tlemen; the robbers, patriots; and
tho women were charming; they were
angels, sir—angels!"
The people thronging the de Se
zannes mansion were, indeed, drawn
together without regard for fitnoss as
we now view it, and little did certain
of them dream that the great battle
over which they were rejoicing had
rung tho note of change and reform;
that the flash of those guns had
kindled the Are of destruction under
the very foundations of outlawry.
It is true that Muirell organised
his band of rdbbers and thieves in
Mississippi and held them together
for some years; but in Now Orleans,
as if by a wave of a hand, when Mr.
Vernon withdrew his influenoe, the
Ohats-Huants disappeared, and the
power of the Lafittes was broken for
ever.
The ile Seaannes reception was the
last notable eoeial event under the old
regime. After that, there followed
disclosures which led to Govern
mental investigation and legal pro
cedure. Steps were taken to admin
ister the criminal laws with great
vigor in the State, and the United
States Government enforced its au
thority along the coast. These
ohanges speedily brought about a new
social order, especially in New Or
leans, and the city at onoe took a high
place as a center of refinement, lux
ury and cu'ture, in which the lines oi
division between the fit and the unfit
were drawn with extreme exclusive
ness.
Wilfred Parker made liia last ap
pearance in New Orleans society on
the ocoasion of Mademoiselle de He
zannes's marriage. M. de Se
zannes had insisted on inviting
him, although Marie iflfered as an
objection that she had >ever been
able to rid herself of the belief thai
Parker had stolen her riiky 0 n thf
evening of the party at Chilian d'Or,
Lieutenant Ballanche heirtily dis
liked the auave little aiyenturer,
without knowing just why but he
pooh-poohed Marie's suspjjion oi
felouious behavior.
The very next day Parker w,g iden
tified as John A. Murrell, an] with
great'difficulty made his escap Into
Miseissippi. The crime of whjh he
was accused was horse-stealing arid
when he left New Orleans, it W as
astride of Ballanche's favorite jiare
that he rode into the swampy Toods
and evaded the officers.
When Pauline and were
married, the guests at their wJding
were chosen with a care U|K sur
prised not a few who had ef Id to
be invited. It was Mr. Vtl Vim
self who kad most insisted a ■ I ex
olusiveness. f 8 \
Fairfax had bis drop 'm *\to
swallow with all his nupC Is.
On the day of his marriage* 'f!.%
that Madame SouvestAp M , r
over her forturne^^^^ff--™
his o'niiuren, as lie now called Paul
ine and Fairfax, live at Ohateau d'Or,
where they watched him go gently
down the decline of life. He out
lived Mrs. Vernon many and
died at tho age of ninety-one. For
years beforo his death, he spent much
time at the old mahogany desk, writing
what afterward was found to be both
a will and history. In the testament
vy part of the huge document ho left
all his property to his daughter, and
she was surprised to find that a largo
part of the bequest consisted of land
ed estates in Scotland. The will was
.signed MacOollough," and
'among the annexed papers were all
the directions, facts and documentary
proofs neoessary to establish the truth
of a strange and startling autobiog
raphy.
Oce thing was left without an word
of explanation: In the package of
papers was inclosed amethyst
cross, still shut in tha old, worn
leather case.
Fauline refused xo make public
claim to the estates in Scotland; but
after her death, which was in 1849,
her children offered the proofs and
possessed the property, which was
valued at nearly a million dollars.
Fairfax never reached eminence as
an artist. Indeed, after his marriage,
he made no more than occasional
efforts with his brush. One of his
pictures, however, has been reoently
attracting much attention, By some
means, it passed from the hands of a
friend in New Orleans to whom Fair
fax gave it, and is now in the collec
tion of "Masterpieces of Obscuro Ar
tists" made by the late Marquis de
Montluzin.
The picture is scaroely more than
a study of the face of Kirk MacCol
lough, sketched by Fairfax long be
fore his marriage and before ho had
proof that Pierre Rameau and Colonel
Loring were but one man. It is,
nevertheless, a powerful piece of
work, in which is caught with perfect
cunuing the indescribable fascination
of the strange outlaw's countenance.
Under it, on the darkened margin
of the canvas, is written in heavy red
letters:
; THE KING OF HONEI ISLAND.
THE END.
KITE BOAT NOT A SUCCESS.
Attempt to Cross From England to
France Is a Failure.
Mr. S. F. Cody attempted to cross
the English channel from Dover to
Calais in a fourteen-foot canvas col
lapsable boat, attached to two special
kites, but failed to make the passage,
owing to the unfavorable conditions of
a* s r Coof
Colonel Cody's Kite Boat. ""
the wind. There was a breeze dur
ing the morning from the northwest,
which it was thought might prove suf
ficiently strong to enable the novel
trip to be accomplished. About mid
day Mr. Cody and a companion, both
wearing lifebelts, made a start, amid
the cheers of a crowd of spectators on
the sea front, says an English ex
change. As soon as she was launched
the little craft sped away at a good
pace towards the French coast, but
after she had traveled some distance
it was seen from the shore that the
kite lines were slackening. On reach
ing the lightship the boat encountered
rough water set up by a strong east
erly current and as the wind veered
rapidly to the west the kites began to
point up channel. Ultimately one of
them fell into the sea and, it being
obvious by this time that the French
coast could not be reached, the at
tempt was abandoned.
Chivalrous Turkish Brigands,
A rather amusing instance of brig
andage is recorded from the town of
Konitza, in Epirus, Turkey. A bride
groom, with his family and men
friends, was proceeding with violins,
fifes and other musical instruments,
according to the custom of the coun
try, to bring away the bride, when,
half way, they found themselves beset
on all sides by armed brigands, who,
at the gun's muzzle, compelled the
surrender of every farthing of money
and every article of jewelry they pos
sessed, even to the nuptial ring. The
coup being quite successful, and the
booty large, as the family was well to
do, and there were many handsome
wedding gifts and personal Jewels, the
brigands entered into the spirit of
ithe occasion, returning the nuptial
*®ng and coins equivalent to forty
fflkts per head, in order that the
jObgroom and his friends might not
tyjjk too humiliating figure at the
merrymakings. Then, with
jjwod wishes for the future hap
§s §H the bridal pair, the robbers
TOBACCO.
and WHERE to SELL ITS *
THAT IS THE QUESTION. YOU
WANT TO SELL IT WHERE YOU
CAN DO THE BEST WITH IT,
DON'T YOU? THEN TAKE IT TO
WINSTON AND LET SCALES AND
THE NORFLEET BOYS SELL IT
FOR YOU
AT PIEDMONT OR STAB
WAREHOUSES.
£3?" First sale every day at one of these houses.
No Vowels in It.
Many places have curious names
but apparently there Is only one place
which has a name without any vowels
That place is the little hamlet of Ws
near Paris. Ws being an unpro
nounceable name, the Inhabitants ol
the hamlet have transformed It Intc
"d'Us," but this change has not beer
sanctioned legally, and on all the
official records the name Ws still ap
pears. The hamlet has 117 Inhabi
ants, and its sole attractions are the
Chateau d'Osny, which has been foi
many years In the possession of Ed
mond About's family, and the Chateau
de Vigny, which is one of the best
specimens of the Renaissance style ol
architecture.
So far as is known, there is onl;
one person in Europe at present whc
has a name without any vowels, and
that is M. Srb, the Mayor of Prague |
SOUTHERN
RAILWAY. (
The Standard Railway of
THE SOUTH.
The Direct Une to all Points,
TEXAS,
CALIFORNIA,
FLORIDA,
CUBA and
PORTO RICO.
•trietly first-class equipment on all
through and local trains; Pullman
palace sleeping cars on all night
trains; fast and safe schedules.
Travel by the Southern and you are
assured a safe, comfortable and ex
peditious journey.
Apply to ticket agents for time-tables,
rates and general information, or
address,
R. L. VERNON, F. R. DARBY,
TRAV. PASS. AG'T., C. P. AT. A.,
CHARLOTTE, N.C. ASHEVILLE, N.C.
No trouble to answer questions.
S. H. HARDWICH, Q. P. A.,
Washington, D. C.
IypCANLESM A M'CANLESS,
PRACTICING PHYSICIAN'S
DAN BURT, H, 0,
♦ ——
Also keep first-class drug store
JOHN D. HUMPHREYS,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
DANBURY, ... N. Q
Prompt attention to all business en
trusted. Practices in all State courts.
O'HANLON'S DRUG STORE,
Winston-Salem, N. C.
i
Stokes people will not find a better or more reliable place
! 5o purchase their DRUGS than at this reliable house.
All inline fit Toilet Articles
ALL MNUo Ul Kept at All Times.
I also Keep the largest and finest line
of Trusseb in the State and guarantee sat
isfaction in both quality and price.
COME AND EXAMINE MY STOCK.
E. W. O'HANLON,
WINSTON-SAL EH, - - . N. G
Thompson's
Dv to,
WINSTON, N. C.
The largest and most varied stock of
Drugs in Winston-Salem. I have bad
80 years experience in fitting trusae*
end can advise you in selecting one,
» - ». . "
J. J. Norman $ Co..
Winston, N* C.
Wholesale Grocers and Seedsmen
and handlers ol Feed Stuffs, Floor.
Meal, etc.
Investigation of our Prices
Of deepest importanoe to mer
chants of Stokes Oounty
•>»
%
We do not sell tho Consum
er—Only Merchants need ap
ply. Satisfaction to all.
Swanson Bros. & Co.,
Danville* Va.
Wholesale Grocers
— and —
DEALERSIN
SEEDS AND FERTILIZERS,
MEATS. FLOOR, ETC.
Lowest prices guaranteed.
r
Oar salesman, Mr. Fletcher, will oaH
on you every sixty days. Save hia
your order*.