North Carolina Newspapers

Sunk r. -1. LOJSDOJi, EDITOR AND PROP&rTOB. - OF ADVERTISING One square, one insertion J1.00 Oil" s.-pieie, two in,"!'ti'u-. 1.5) Out s.j'nue, ' Ui . :i i 5 TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION, $1.50 PER YEAR SHetly in Advance. i VOL. XXI. PITTSKORO, CHATHAM COUNTY, N. C, THURSDAY, DECEMIJEll 8,18U8. NO, 15. is 'Pw'Av'i rn.vrn;i: xxvui. 'I lie i . f that next year I spent in explores S. 'i; !i America. From tiuio to ( iiu- I tiii re. :u .i :. iters. Tho lawyer, (he in.i-i. nn.'i tin- governess, Mrs. Gray, were mt rre.n lei.ts. It was in ill? autmitn 1. 1' tl'iit i. .-niiil year that tho 110 i. ..f .l..;m lagan to improve. She had g: -wa r.i'n !i 1 ..'iitiT slio began t" li..fi,-e pluoes mi;! inrfiiK to ask que- herself onco moro in thing- ihat wcr- jiassinc around her. ' Know every walk v tooK. I Know tne Oi-o re.-, ind a letter from Parby very tracks of the sea. Ido not ihiuk I liers.lt. T!..' largo, strangely formed was bad then," and her voice grew nnx tvords 1 ;:d an -"id look. She said: : ioux. "I did not mean to ho, 1 know. I . a v S.r Ualpli This is lhe first let was happy, too. in n way. and I hud faith tor I hive ever 'ir'-ien. and 1 write it to j and hope, and life did not seem so hurl C;vc .! g---.il new s. ii iter. S ..iti. I thitik, well. 1 l.,if a fancy I news, .loan i so much ; io will be quite i ilear Sir Ralph. Hint . tli.rg w.uol make her that, and ; i. It is von. I talk to her about n a,:d -f t "ii. nnd she says: 'I i. llown-v' rv good. I think know he v:. h,.. ,:;,., in the world.' S... .1 .'. . ui-.ist remember you. W nr.. , Nov sea;!., and---is it not funny V - : p-, ...,f t: rv snnie house for us that i l. il b. f-.ie. 'when vou and Jo w. re I le.irt I :b.t k s ic remember it- l.v- I ' . aks iii.ni' ipiestions. and ! t -r.nli ,,i,t iirnL-. f..r hersell. 1 w mid tome! You have ! ;i i..-.,g. bun: lime, nnd 1 j IV.iei is not a bit Oil. I b. . M ii. a l.ko ..!. II.- ; hi n writing. Io please , l , n:e. Y.oir i. .vaii,- little i riAKHY." : As I r, a.', t. simple w.-rds the hard l-l-ilsl a!- n: toy heart s.-onied ! be br.'keu i,:. 1 I...'...;' hi, k .01 these two years with a ! f t-ondt r. U"W lonely they i ,.id 1.: ' H .w uevo',.1 of anything like, .,e. ,.r .-,.:i:f..: '. synipiithj '. Yet even , r.ow, if I . bey, I t'l'fc stiinmoiis. and went , ha--k .tsy w.f.-'s side, what would that I life be i i.,- !;:;, e.Y, i-w-ardV However well I m it; r : the f.'N. its teeth would cnaw lit in. I,, .nt ..vo i:li Hie cloau l itnlin I t. 1 no .,i,e I wac eottlitlg. i hem by s uprise. It : v'i. n 1 arrived at I resolved was close Nice, and 1'iy I n.s:i:.' ni lb liuioii. I drove ti: Hi its shelicied nook frauen. (,f th.. IS.ij , Keepins: h and :,ile;'iis, ' V i..l the sheltering laurels I made my way slowly to ,. 1 !:, d.-oi- stood oM-ii. I mot i-,"il: I passed in. On the he li.ill a ,;.,or sti d n.iar. From t tii. ii came lhe sound of voices, i. tfr.iv i well I knew them, i': on,: piaiutive tones, nnd , ,y u ife. I crept up to the door ,1 .n. The r. oin was half dusk, is a , ,11,'h drawn up by the lire, en ! a little shadowy tinure s ii;iir,-. ,,.:m sat beside her .Ml l.r siir. iie will come." Parby was Y.oi will be tlnd. dear, will yon Th.-r- tuo the ih II eo 1 I i..i ini ' "V, f 1 C:t !," . ame tho answer in quiet, -lhe tones 1 remembered of j ore. "lte.-.-iup h- w.il take care of jom. and bego--,! to ,." I ho el.. Id went on. "Only, ,l.,;,n. y.ei must promise to tell him "v er. :!i:i..v He w :11 not be angry. He is too kind and go."! for that." "He was a I w. -i.tk (;.,!." said .loan soft ly. "Afd yotil What should I have d wiiiio.i; j-ou ;i', the',- yenrs? You held me I, a. k from :i aii i Iron, ,!,spair. You t:iv.. ii... t:r ..StH l eii I was weakest, n til li.,j.f hen I '.vi. hopeless, and pn-tn-iice win ii 1 u as welhtiigii desperate, and love uh.-n nil other hoc failed. Oh, my h.ld -my blessing! I; is heaven's Uiercy that gave ou to no! I see that v, rj riat 1 liv, . ' The n.'M moment I enterd the room. i HAI'TFi: XXIX. For a m un -lit we l....k, d at each other In no nee. I had thought of lo-r. prayed f,.r lor. pVid.d tor her a hundred times in hours of f ,i:tude and pain. I heard her low'', ty, ai d saw ihe warm blood flush lo r eh I;-. I lost sight of all the sor rowful arel tomir.'iE past, and for a mo ment r. n eiiilo r. J only that she was my wife. A sort of constrain! came over me. The fond ' ,r 's that had longed for utterance were fr ziti ,,n my lips. Parhy came to the res. in with a lorrcni of questions nud remarks, anil n few moment after wards Mr. I i inpli loll eutered. We n'.l -at down then, and the conver sation heiaino general. They would not hear , f my go.ng to the hotel; so my lug j.age was st ot lor. and I did my best to return the cordiality of my welcome, and to seem at heme and content once more. Joan was very quiet. F.ach time I look ed al the s.i;!it Figure in its soft gray dress. or tlo- pietiy head with its 'lustor ing runs, i f irange feeling came over me. A woman, no doubt, would have found relief in fears. 1-man-like was only conscious of ii pain that tugged at my heart-strings and sometimes choked the words in my throa'. She looked so fair, nnd so-eet. and fragile. There was such n deliiMie, tender v oiiianliiiess iiboitt her thai I seenu-d to lose sight of that awful time .,f .bo, bt, and the torturing years that had follow i d. Winn sin- vein aay with Parby and lh'gor Tempo ton had left, 1 fell into deep thought. M eyes rosted on the burning :!.:. but I don't think liny saw much of 1 1n in, for my heart was heavy. A soft, rustling ieis,. roused nie at last. Joan bad line ;i,. and was standing close be side mi.. "I hope." she said gently, "that you are not sorry you came hack?" "Why should yon think so?" I asked abruptly. For a moment she was silent. Then a eort of ihsperatp p!nl eame Into her (a, e nnd 1 oi.v. "Kierr'h tu i i hanged." she said. ",uce Jo'i wer hvr befor. I molt changed of n'.l. 1 think sonn-limes that when 1 was a girl when yotl knew nm years ago that there must have 1 some good in nie, or you would not hav loved mo. Oh!" and she clasped li.-r hands nnl looked at me with soft, m l eyes, "if 1 colli. 1 only go hack and he that girl ogam!" Her voice thrilled to my heart. I third in look at her. "To (To buck,' 1 said presently. "i ini possihle. That If tho worsit of it. With all its mistakes and follies, it pushes yon on on remorselessly. Yon ranuof stay yon cannot returnyou can only pi for ward, hearing tho pain and the regret as best you may." "We," she said, humbly, "have had to hear both, I frar." Then she roso and stood bt-fore rae. IJor faro nan white and anxious, her hands were elaspfd tight, and liune before her; tho folds of the soft gray dress caught light and shadow from tho llntues. "Thore- was something," she said, and her ryes looked at me piteoiisiy. like a child's. "It was about about myself. I have tried to remember, but I ear.r.ot. 1 can romeinber the giri you met hero. I ami sa.i a tiling. .ow, anu s pm ner hand to lier t.row and pushc! tne loose cur's hack, while her eyes grew clouded - "now it Is mi so timer.-nt. in i , a tutor toll why 1 only feel as it my lite had all S"iie wrong as if. somewhere on ils r.ad. 1 h id misled happine-s; nnd. wlun I loim I"r :t tllere is n mi. :ween :i pi,i i i'n liev.-r a." The w,.r,N. and the young. - vrowt! voice, smote me to the heart. "My poor child." I :i:d. hfokmly. "I wou:n ir were in my pow. r io k..o u in. is to yon!" '? sliou;,! y on ca re ; sr-.o saie., an,. half turned away. "". I have thoim And 1 never cared "I was not good to h !' that very often, ae mi your loollncs niy own seemed to ell up everyili ng. and when I did--" Ag.lin th" cloud came over her face, her e.vi s dn-iped, h. r little hand niovet with restless touch .unong those soft white curls. When I did," she said, "it w as .,.i laic." 1 was silent. I seemed I.. have t.,,, many words to speak, yet soinei lung kept , me from speaking even one ! "In n'.l ii i y thoiu-hts and dreams of j you." she went on, "I always knew how gonil yon n it". 1 ! hope yon believe that. Tlnro are things 1 hate told y..ii : that I felt you del i...t bel,ee. S.,un i times it is s., hard for a woman to speak, j and when w,- feel w o arc misunderstood i it makes it harder. I 1 have often tried ' to tell you of my feelings, but you chilled in... Yon did not mean it. I know: but j always 1 felt, as ! p. id you .iust now. that you were so good, i.nd so 1 1 ii.-. and so i strong, oh. always always 1 felt thai! j And if 1 could have cm.- to y.et uml told yon everything. I U'cw 1 should lime i been happier." I "Ferhaps," I said, huskily, "you can tell ' tne tin.v." She drew ba.-k rr mi in,-, shudder .ng ! and while. A ehange cam eover hor. n if sotno hidden hand had strn, k at hi r I swaying figure She hid her face in her I hands. I "I catltlot." -llo i ried, p.teously; "I .-an-; not! It has all gen,- from me. Often nnd : often I have tried to tvii.enihor, bm it is i ail dark." "The light may come yet." 1 said, i ng.,r--ly. for I knew weil enough that, iii.id perfect eotiliilence drew her heart to mijie, my dreams of liappim ss would iu. r be more than dreams. in,r -die, my- wife, he more than the shadow she had been for those two years of suffering. Her hands dropped. Slo- look. . I .tt me auaiti. "You are my hn.sh.ind." she said. "I remember y.,ii and 1 roll. ember what ymi told me about love and trust. I I ,,st both, did I not?" I was silent. For n few s nils the ro,.ni ivj. still as death. "Y'os." she said, as 1 did in,i s.:ik. "I know it. I tut why have you coin,, hack?" "I have come luck." 1 said, aini my voice was nnsieady as her own. "heciiiise, after nil. you are my wife; your sorrows are mine; your troubles, loo. I have hut tin-in loo long uti-hiiri d. I have been selfish " "You!" she interrupted, and lo.ikod at mo with eloquent eyes; "vou sollish! Ah. no, no! ymi never wet-., that!" "Yes," I said. "I was; and 1 have imnh to reproach myself with; hut there in still a future for ns. ami we must make it as happy as we can." "One can't call hack trust." she said sorrowfully. "If it goes, it goes forevir. And even if y.iii loved me " "I do love you," I said earnestly, toiuli ed to tin- heart by the piteous sorrow m her eyes. She looked at me f, r a moment as if in doubt. "I'ntil you love and trust tne. too." she said very low. "we shall never be happy. Hetween us. like a cold ghost, there is always that something " I turned aside, sick at heart, but reeog nizing only too pla nly the truth of her words. I went Io my room, but I w as ton rest less for sloop. I was racked with doubts and fears, and all the sorrowful evitiis I hat had freshly come to my ktiowh-de. For long hours I sat there buried in deep thought, when a slight u,,ie aroused me. The door opened softly, and mi the threshold stood a little while figure, witli something clasped to her bre i st. She look e. so unearthly in that dim light, that fo' a moment my heart stood still with fiar. Then suddenly she glided forward, and went straight up to my bed. and laid on it the book she held. The action gave me speech and courage again. I sprung ! my feet. "Parby!" 1 cried. Sho turned her startled face to nunc. "Po not bo aiinry." sho ni, lirsiuli nigly. "1 thought you would be asleep, and I w anted- oh, so much! to bring y..n this." "What ii it?" 1 s.iid, coming forward, and taking tip the volume from the bed. "It is to make you happy again. " she said, "you and Joan. She is very nnd, gad yo.i do not understand eten how lie lores you. but I do! And this," pointing to tile book, 'this will tell you. 1 used to make her wad it t me sometimes, and 1 thought often, oh. If ymi only know!" "But what is it?" I asked in growiui; bewilderment. "It is Joan's journal," h" said, and vanished. "Heaven forgive me," I said, "if I have . misjudged her!" i I took up with trembling hands the jour- ; nal that tho child had brought to me. Tlie j record of those years of anguifh lay there, I yet I feared to read it. It seemed to mo dishonorable to pry luto the secrets of a ; woman's heart to take advantage of her i helplessness, and tear ruthlessly the veil from her simple confidences, meant ns they were but for her own eyes. I had re spected Y'orke's hnw much the iin.ro, then, should I respect those of my wife my other self? The girl who had held my heart, and shared my life, whom still I lovde and fain would have believed. As I thought of these tilings I resolute ly put tho book away. I knew verv little of women: but I thought that no woman would respect th- ! man who wrung from her ignoranc. and helplessness llm secrets of her past, whether the past were innocent or guilty. "Sho told tne she has nhvays trusted nie." I said: "I will not fail her now. If confidence is to unite us again it shall be a voluntary gift from her heart to mine not a ritled treasure, stolen in the dnrk. as if my hands were those of a thief " CHAPTER XXX. I rose very early next morning and went out. But even the fresh, sweet, misty air could not cool the fever in ray veins. When I reached the villa grounds I was still far from being as calm ns I wished to be. The subtle sense of asso ciation liiing about the place. Wherever I moved or looked, I teemed to see .To tin as I had been used to see her. Fvory Inisli was like a ghostly figure: every path a landmark of some, scene or word. When at last I turned n corner, and came face to face with Joan herself. 1 could hardly believe it was reality. She wore a white dress, and had n little lace handker chief tied under her chin. As she saw me she started. Perhaps the morning lig'.it showed us the changes that time had wrought, as the previous night had faiied to do. Sho eani up to me and put out her htind. Purby is not well," h said, hurried ' . "site seems to have taken n ehi'.l. I have just sent n man for the doctor. She has fallen asleep now, but 1 don't like her looks." "I was afraid sho would bo ill." 1 nn sword, as I turned round and walked beside her to the house. "Pid she i,.;l jmi about coming to my muro last night';" "No!" she exclaimed in w.uob r. "To y.ur room! What for?" "She evidently thinks," I said, "that we are not quite on good farms-you and I and she wished to help ino to a better understanding; so she cajne to me with your journal, and begged me to r. ad it." "With my journal!" she cried, her face growing suddenly scarlet. "Oh, sho had no right-she should not have don that! It was very wrong of her." "Po not agitate yourself," I said coldly. "You surely do not suppose I would read one word of it without your knowledge!" She stopped and looked up iti my fnc. "You have mil?" she said tremulously. "Of course not," I answered. "Your confidence is sacred. I should never think of yiolaiing it." A slrang- little smile came to her lips. "I might have known," she faid. "I noght hae trusted; you are so dilVfreni to others." "I hope," I said, "that any one who knows the meaning of honor would be have in a similar manner. T will give oii back your hook if yon will come to my room." "Very well." sho said, softly, and fol lowed nie across the vestibule. I went in and took her journal from the drawer where I hn.1 placed it. Shu siood on the threshold and wmtched nie. I c inie up to her and placed the book in In r hands. As I did so she turned very pal.-. I hen looked up in my face. "I ought to have no seinvts from yon," she said slowly. "And I doil't know why I should mind your reading this. There s nothing wrong oidy-smly it is very foolish." "My dear." I said gravely, "I hate no wish 'to learn anything about you that y.c.ir own lips cannot tell me. Somo day, pcrhaiis,. you will understand me boner ilian you have yet done. Hut I am con tent to wait." She put her hand to her head with that touch of perplexity. "To wait!" she said slowly: "thnt is very hard. I know I ought to hav told you' long ago. only I think I was afraid lint I am not afraid now." 1 drew her into the room and closed the door. "Joan." I said quietly, "to', me the en tiro truth. Hctwis-ti ns there should he nothing to conceal or to avoid. Is there nothing y.i remember':" Her bauds nervously clasped and un clasped the fastening of the book she held. "It is all here," she said faintly: "only -I have not daml to look since I recov ered." The color wavered in her check; her eyes met mine slowly, in questioning jj,. pe.'tl. "If you would read it for me." she said, and held the hook toward nie. I saw !i.-r hand tremble. I took it and held it in n.y own. "Are you quite- sure," I asked, ''that you mean this? Do you think flu-re is anything here you would rather I did not read? You say you cannot remember; you may have written things down that were meant only for your eyes." She shook her head. She looked at me with the trust and simplicity of n child. "1 will never deceive you again." she said. "When yon know ni as 1 am. you may act as you please. It is all there. I think: all except that time when my mem ory failed. Perhaps," she added sorrow fully, "yo" may hate mo or lrspiio me. There may be things written down there thnt I never meant any "ne to know; htit you are so good. I I do not think you will be hard on me. I am sorry I did not trust yon from the first." "And so am I, heaven knows!" I nu swered below my breath. "I w ill give yo i all the day to read it," he went on presently. "Thou t.-niglit I will meet you in the garden -w !ier, where I told vou I would be your wife live years ago. po you remember?" "Yes," I answered gravely. "I w i,l be i here." How I lived out that day I hardly know. I shut myself up with that hook, a no1 devoured Its pages with hungry eyes. I v detail of that young, brave life was :... before tin its tenderness, its wreck ed hopes, it? broken faith, its struggles wPh temptation, its long hidden sorrow, its gradual awakening to a new happinets, an l tl awful death-blow that my o.vn ha ul had struck at that happiness. "If I had but known!" 1 sa d to my ae'tlng heart. "Oh. if I had but known!" The hours waned, the sunset faded: the faint, chill wind came up fr.nn the st a. and swayed tbo leaves bejoiid my rase nn i:t. and fanned my l ace as I If ant ll re. !, :ig;ng lor the dusk of ni'nifall n never lover longed for Ins beloved. 1 went into lhe quiet night, humble ntid weak, hut glad at heart as rever yet bud I been glad through many weary wars ,,f li f . Sho fell down on her knees beside me when she came. 1 drew- her to my heart. I murmured every w..rd of love nnd com fort I could think of. Suddenly she moved nnd stirred. I lor eyes opened. I bent down and met their gaze. "Is it you, l'nlph?" she said dreamily, tile;; fat up and leaned her head against my shoulder. "I have tu eii asleep a b-tig. long time," she said, "bu' I hn-e had n beautiful dream. 1 think you are sorry f,,r me. Will you trv nnd love me a little u-oi:i? Yon did once, I know." I saw- the tears gut lit;- in her eyes. I heard her voice quiver and break hi its soft appeal. My arms closed round her with ail the garnered passion and rs morse of their starved and empty past. "Love you!" I cried. "Oh. my darling my darling, there are no words f,. te.l how I love you! When I think of how 1 have misjudges you. wronged you, tried ymi, I l aie myself for the folly nnd sus picion that have cost us both so mucli. I I wonder yon do not hat me, too!" "Hate you!" she cried. "Yon" Then hor head nestled back on my shoul der; she trembled like a leaf. "I I for got." she whispered, "llnvn you read it?" "Fvery word." I said. "And w as I very wick, ,1?" I could havo laughed aloud in my tri uinpii ar.,1 my joy. "Very." I said, "for not telling hip at once whin was in y.mr heart. 1 thought it was Yorke." SuiMei.ly she drew herself away, nnd hid lit r face in her hands. "Oh!" si e moaned, "I remember now I reiminber now. It ha ail coino back. He was- he was murdered!" "Murdered!" I tried aghast. "No. no. Join, don't say thai. It was an accident." "Tell me all!" she cried wildly. "I ,-iii never know a happy moment till that mys tery is cleared up. You followed me, d;d y.ci no: ?" "Yes." I said. "Bui 1 think I missel the way when I heard the shot that gnid ,-l me back." 'When you heard the shot!" she cried, raising her ghastly face to inin "You were not there at the lime?" "Ccriainly not." I ;,nsw red. "Oh. thank (led!" she cried; "thank l.od!" and threw her units round tne with a burst of hysterica! weeping. For itiig 1 could not soothe h,r; fir iv.r.g I could gather nothing from her in coherent words; hut lit last the truth l.iwned upon tne. She feared that I had iaken vengeance into my own h.v.-.ds I jat the long feud between Y'orko and my self had culminated in this act of revenue for the dishonor he had sought to cast upon my life. This shock it was that Inn' acted s., ter ribly upon her feeble strength, and for a time overthrown its mental balatnt. And now. i'..i- the tirst time, hc learned the truth, and, learning it, was like . -in- mad with joy and relief. The revulsion ,,f feeling was so strong, it almost frightened inc. "Oh." she ried amidst wild s.,bs, "you have be. ii so guild- so good so gooill You must never leave me again! Indeed -indeed I w ill i ry to be all you w ish. I will never hold a thought back from your knowledge. Only trust me again - take me back io y our heart - for, oh. my lnis band. I love you so! All these yours I ha'e loved you, and you would not ln-liev,, it. though I trlid to show it you. Th-re is nothing 1 would l.ot do for you to make you happy or give you peace. I would I i for you this moment if " "No." 1 interrupted, "for that would be foolish, Joan. You shall do hotter -you shall live for tne." "From this very hour," she said solemnly- I bent and kis-ed the quivering lips. "From this very hour," 1 npswercl. ii a nm: xxxi. tr is the late afternoon of a mini 1-Vbru-Ory day, when, loaiing Joan in hor b.ui-do-r with Nettie Croft and Parby. I stroll our of ;he house, and, scarce thinking of what 1 am doing, take the path to the old suniilier hous, the tragic seem- of Y'orke's dealh. I have not been there since that awful day wion the body was discov ered. 1 cannot tell what impulse prompts tne to e. i there now. nnli ss it is , hint dropped by Mrs. It. Ho ; i Ii :i t a rumor litis been circulated saying that the place is haunted - that a shailowy figure has been seeti coming out of ih summer In, use in the dusk, that it stands there moaning and wringing its hands for n brief (.pao, and hen vanishes. I was walking steadily on, when, just ns th" iiL-hi crew dim and shadowy. I fancied I saw something moving in the open space beyond. I slopped abruptly; my footsteps had made no sound on tho wet. soft moss, nnd, in the shadows of the trees, I could sec without being; seen. As my eyes grew accustomed to tho light 1 saw that something certainly was there a tigiire crouching close to the grroiiud nnd inuring from time to time n low, strange moan. I crept a Utile nearer, keipiug well under the shadow ..f the trees. Then suddenly I sprang out into the open space and confronted tho crea ture. At lirst I could not be quite sure w hat it was. A heap of rags, a jrriiue.l and w.it,s face, where the dark eyes l!:i::;ed like lamps, a mass of wild, dis-hevi'u-l hair, black as night, hinging hvse and disordered over the shoulders; this was the sight that greeted my eyes. "What are you doing here?" I iVmaiid ed. as the wild eyes met my own. The .-.tily nu'-wer was a h.w chuck', The wretched real uro drew hi- -. closer round her. s, eming to hug seine thing t" her bosom. 1 repcat'sl iny question, coming n I'm t ', nearer as I did so. Ties tune su burst line volley of im oheri nt exeiauinliet.s mingled with abuse. I saw she was h, ,c lessly intoxicated: the soddeiitsl. brutal it d intoxication of an habitual ilruukard. "Ni no." she kept repeating; "don't come near nie! I did not menu it ymi know I did not tnesn i'! Oh!" she sudden ly shrlekH.1, "uike the gun from him! .. will shoot in, -he is eontoig! Keep ha. k. I tell you keep back!" I took tlx- bottle from her and tess,., It luto the bushes. I went up to her. and seized her by the shoulders. She was too weak for resist ance, and presently stood there passu,. and cowering. "Now," 1 said, "follow nie to the house, I I nil a magistrate, and you must give tin account oi yourself. She looked at tin- in bewilderment. I i w,.ndered whnr P was in her eyes that , ri mill, led tro of sellie one I had ellce si-en I - .-inn,, fugitive 1 c-oiul.l.ll.c,' I ciii, ii,.; I .-.it, h or trace. She stiiiiibled after me wi'ii weak, nn j svmly '!!. When w e iva.-.., d ih lla'.i. I :,,,'k her round to liie son ants' tittrtm.e ! and g ive h. r in charge of a g- d naturcl J scullery niai'l. "dot Inr was. ml alio give ner some tie cent riot' 1: g." 1 siM- "1 will speak to her a fu r dinner." The woman went meekly enough away, and I returned t.. Joan's lon!,,;r. N.-ttie and Ally -re there talk t ; quietly together. 1 II "llili -,-, :1s 1 I k, d at them whether .loan's h,.p. would ever be i'e.il'Z.,,1 whether the t i i n w oi'.l e. ::i when Not:ie would r, wanl h.-r y.oii.g ho , r's d, votioti ? Wli.-ti dinner wa ov, r that i veiling I made some excuse t.. get tiwa.v. Joining hem loeether in .loan's favorite room. I sent word that the v . inan was to be brought n, my study, but a few ne. men's afterward the t, - mun r, 'urned. siyii.g :io was so ill i hut t,,y had been obliged to put her to bed. "She talks all th" i;uie, sir." he went on "It is a sir; of raving. Mr-. Hiiket is with her no" . Sle- ti: i.li- a doctor should be set;! f.,r." 1 went straight io the i-....m. The old housekeeper tr.ot n,e a' 'h,- door, ihmi el.oed it after us. I ,:i she was trem bling greatly. "Sir lialph," she whispered, "don't yon kn iiv who it is?" 1 glanced tit tiie bed. but I ill I re : uir.,' inching familiar :;i that awiui face, those W ill eves, l;i III Ii: t ef; 11 g bps. "No." 1 said. "Po ymi?" "Yes," ilie answired. m the same low key; "I rcoognlrcil her :it .n. . but 1 haie said nothing !.. the other servants. She is Mr-. March. That while hair lllllsl ll.l' e been a disguise." I started. "Mrs. Mar, ,1' I eri,. My v. .; i-e:i in d the wretched crea ture. She half rose in tho bed and star ed wildy nt in,-. Who , ai's't" she s:,... -Is it l.a.ly Ferrers'." Then she luiist ii.to a peal of wild laughter. "I.uoy I', rn-rs where is l.:n l.v Ferrer? She thought to hae him, did she? No i,o. tny lady; l,e is my !oer, not yoi. f-. Ii- -ha'.! nev.-r be y.cf ; 1 w ill kill h.ni tirst ! ' 'That is how she s on all the time," said Mrs. F.:rk, t. "I think y.,ii had bet-let- not 'ell HIS hull. s;r; 1; might upset lie-.' "I did not kill him." muttered the wom an on ihocoti.ii. "Ii was only a throa'. Why did In- ta'iii: no I who l .v. 1 him as that pale-faced girl ciild never have ,lo:r? 1. who was his slave. Ins toy. his fatn-y for an idle hour? 1 told h.ni I Warned llilll but he Would not believe." I bent cl..-er Io the restless hi 1.1. "Pid you take his life?" I said, slowly and distinctly. I A gray. -.. l.'y hue rep' over her face. I She stopped as otio ia the attitude of i listening. "They met," si..- said. "I saw them meet. I spoke to liiin : I taunted him. I.,,,.k ;.,,l;l" and she shuddered, mil pointid with one trembling hand to a cor ner of the room. "Tin re he s'iitnl-! Why-doe- h point that gun at me? Tell him to go away ! fell him tell hsWI-tell him!" Her voice I-.,',' illlllos! to a shriek. "There ,s no ,,iio tlnre," I s-iid s-eraly. "Try to eo'ieet your ihoiigh'-. Po you know- that death is tieiit '." "Yes." she -aid. and laugh-. I a harsh, weak laugh. "I know. Tin-re are si rang.. ihitigs .ib.mt. The r,,iii i- full of th. in. ! Tin y have been with tin- a long, h-ng I line. That is what tiny sa;.-P,ath! I ,!:d Hot mind. ( inly, w i.y s he stand I tin -re? 1 1 did ti, : l ;'l linn. I lell you 1 did l.ot kill hilnl lluslil" I sii.l ... .;!. ugly. If y.n I We-e there tell 111,' .ill .,' Ii' it. Pid the 1 gun go off iti his hai is?" "lie was di s,.-.i-, ." she p-ni'i 'l. "ai. d so -o was I. I l-ii-le him forgot the j.aie. , oi l rl w hose h, art had never .,r ,,:i moment lo hi f-r him 'I o passion ,,f my ..wti. I told him I would. f..!'.w him to 'he wor.d's end an 1 la- .-irsr,; me. Then I gr-w mad. I I snatch, -i a' liie gun. I said my wretched life sh,,,:l i end. He sei.id it from inc. We -iruggled a sec ond, and bo fell face , .wnw ards oti the -round. 'Flu n terror s.-i. ,1 urn I I eeitl.! not si:1y there. 1 tied l.ko a hni.t,,'. t'u.t.g. No olii had se, Ii no- cine; no one saw tin- go." S. I..'.'., so broken, ili.i.i- ia.-t word-. I s. ar i-1, oild hear them i v.-n in (ho ...h nci ,,t thai nub I room. I Fin as tli.-y ,-i ii.-ed I h.-nrd .loan's v.,;.-,. j M, sw . .,; a ml sol, nm. iii ii nun ring t li" pr-y- ; er liiat in lehlii 1 and ni.itih I. in ago I and ir.eiblc. in :.!.!, c-s .-m. I . I :i 1 1 . -c ins to -pi -,ng n. i : u: a' ly I , all bps S.ie l, i,l e;i tered the i'..,.iti unknow n to inc. The -.:. in n li.ii n, i. Ibr fin e gr-w calm, a shiolou ,r ,,,r ii,t la..-, h.-r eyes closed. "She is :it r, -t loot," I s i;,l. aini turned to my w'.te. ;in-!. with giitdiies- s,,;,,nin and iitisni akab'e. folded her to my heart. "The .a-: .lout,: ,s .-leari-l away." I mur mured passionately: "oh. thank heaven f.,r that 1" ( l he end. i liiugsi. ( 'I'lleeliifS lift- eagerly seeking the if. Ii li'i.!Ili:iig--ilig-. lint were gciicr .illy worn in ib-nimny in IM",, as they tire now wi.tih im.ro than lio ir weight In gold. Tiles,- ring.- ;nv testimonies of the In-ights io which b-rii:an pa trioiis:n r,,so against Napoleon in 1 si;?. In that yiurtlio Friin-.-ss, s of the Huy. nl lloiis,. ii, ado nil app.nl !, lhe nation to snoriiioe all personal oi-tia tnel'ls for the sake of tin- treasury, i iiomsoh es si-tune tin. e;i mple. This appeal lias its parallel in our own history . the la ng I'iitliiiiui'tit having, nt tin begin ning of ;!., struggle between l'arlia litiT.tnri.'iii and Cavalier, niaib- a simi lap call upon llpglish p.-it riot 'sti: In ,!' sequel-. -o of th' pi'-M,t:,il I'Mimple of the prim . s-i-s. an ituim-nso number of tiioiirii'ng l ing- vt i re seiu to the treasury a; IVrlin. e.n-li soinbT nseii- il'g all il.-li lil g ill iioktlow ledgllielit. l.i.iring tbo words "dnlil 1 give for1 iron." Front a plat o culled Swine n iiinl". no less thai mio hundred aini ' foitneeti geld tings were sent, the siiine number bi n:; ,lisp:iteln.,l n ,.x-1 change. These iron rings nre innv ex- ! trill ely til re, beiice ll.eir value. IIcii ar Annie of I lor, qiciin States. l;u - a's regular i,uvt. jS over nhi.uinj ni,.. I. i ; oit' ia liy and France li.-r about .'in '.in .it i-i -h there is loss than H.tiiKJ di'Vei'. !: -, n. uoeii them A.tsiria has ;;i;u.(iiii:. li.ily "i;'.i'iiu. Fngbiml V.io.ihx) nud Spiiin about luO.lMH.i. A CATTLE QUEEN. ROMANTIC CAREER Of- MRS. NAT COLLINS ON WESTERN PLAINS. ricliiiesqile Finrr nt True U'eslei n I v,e Man ic, I, Hill Mincer - II iiliiiii-l I. lli, l" At ,-5. : lgolous as hi Mil r still Hung. Heavily I po" Mi l- Tim iMty of Minneapolis lias within it, tr,tos frnys tint 'J'rihiiu of that city, a potable, guest, no less n ier sunnpo than Mrs. Nat Collins, who is known tliioiicrlHiiit tlio Northwest ns "the ('utile (.itteeii id' Montana." ".di s. t 'olliiis- pi c toils a pioturosijiio ligiite ,,f the iiuc ami peried Western typo w hi. di is fnt giving; way to an other onler of thing;-;. She is tho product of t'uo coinliti-itis which pre- tilled upon tbo Western plains tunny years n.g;o, and u history of lier evont t'til life is nl'ottt its iiiterestiiii; as ivultl possibly be paititoil by t!u oi-e.-it est In inn nn ciist, Mrs. Collins is ( i rout... to Chit ,tgo and she enme to Minneapolis with a tiniiiloail of cnttli thirty-two oar loads nil her own property. Hie makes this trip each your, mid acoom pnliies the stuck from tlio point of shipment in Montana to Minneapolis, the lust fee, liiip, p., jut before reui'liing Cliicaoo. From there sho takes a reg ular passe:i-or Haiti a n travels as be fits her condition as mistress .if n preat fortune. The cattle nre iluectly in charge of six cowboys: from her ranch, ami they nro with the stock from Montana to Chicago. Mia. Collins, although n married woman, is master f tlio various ranches in her name iu Montana. Tliis property is located ill the vicinity of Chotem'i, a little town north of lle'o na ami is about sixty-liv o miles from (ireat Falls, which is the tie.atosf largo, town Chotcuu is about twonty livo iiiib-s f ,.:ii her ranches, nnd is also thirty-live niilos from the nearest ruilioinl. ' Thus it can be seen that the cattle queen is locatod rcni' lcly Ciii.qli almost to rinl llobiuson Cru Hoi for isolat ion. Mrs. Collins has had u roiiuititio career, nlthoiigh not devoid of what Mount In; eotlsidel t-,1 yi ievolts liat d ships by the avcrnfie American w oman. Sim is now nbout tifly-live years of age ami is just as lively ami i ;.u ous as any voting; woman in I lie t w o nt ies. She is an iiulustrii.iis woiker, uml is of t hat nervous tcmpei ainnt which must titnl employment to keep the niiinl nt test iiinl tin; heart satis tied. She began her Western experi ence nt the age of ten years ami has lived upon the plains ever since. It is her boast that she w cut through Penvcr when that great city of today contained but one log cabin und a lew tents. Long; l.eforo she was twenty years old sho hud made ten trips across the plains bet w een Omaha ami Denver, acting in tho capacity id cook in the wagon triila of which her brother was wnon master. Filter on the spirit of advonturo which had begun to dominate her dis position impelled her to remove to tho new mining lieols of Montana, at tho time of their fust opening. She visiteil JlantioeU nnd many other points, and was the tirst w hile wotiuin in Virginia City. She was at Helena before there was such a place, und it was at Helena some time Inter that she weihled Nat Collins, ii well known and respected miner. The marriage occurred about thirty years ngo, ami shortly after the ceremony the young couple ipii' the mining camps and went into tho northern pint of Mon tana and established themselves in the stock-! nisiiig biisiniii-s, to which they have clung persistently ntnl with great success ever since. They have but one child, a daughter sixteen years old. They begun ranching with about lot) hoinl of stock. The animals were 'urned loose upon t lio plains and al lowed, to increase mnl multiply ns rap idly as they would, mnl today Mrs. I'oilins says it would bo utterly im possible for her to give an estimate of the number of hea.l of cattle upon her various ranches. .No effort is made to count thci.i. Kadi year they round up as many as they care to ship nud the others nre unmolested. The cattle queen has well eariicl her reputation. Probably no one in Montana has larger cattle interests than she. Her MuvesB lias been due to her own interest and exertions, for her husband is one of those nuiet in iliviilitnls who prefer to take life with as little tremble as possible When Mrs. Collins began to ship hor stock to tho eastern nun kel she found her self confiouteil by railway rules uml regiila'.iotis which expressly stated that no woman could l itlo in the ca booses attache 1 to tho stuck trains. She iuinietliutely put in n protest, nnd as the agent coiil.l ej,. her no satis faction sho carried the mutter to the division superintendent. That ollicinl found himself powcilcfs. nnd finally Tames ,1. Hill, president of the (ireat Northern, was appealed to. Mr. Mill reluctantly refused her the desired permission, and by so doing raised a storm of indignntioii about bis head. In n few days he wis fairly smothered with letters from prominent ranch men and cattleiiient of Montana de manding that ho accord the oust unary privileges of the road to Mis. (.'ollins. In a few days threats began coming in, the writers declaring that if ho did not accede, to Mrs. Collins' le qiiest they, the principal cattlemen of the West, would refuse to ship all ot her hoof over his road. Mrs. Col lins got her pass and has had one each vear since, and istodry the only wom an so f,i ore,!. One would suppose that with tho iiiiiiiiigcinent of several lunches upon her shoulders Mrs. Collins would Iiinl plenty to keep her busy, but such is not t lio case. She declares that there is any quantity of time which she Uuds it almost impossible to disoose I of, nd fbe findt vent for her surplus j tueigy It! vai ions ways. Fepeatecily ' siie visiteil the new mining region near St. Marf'a "I.e. .Won., and while there in vest e.". several line copper claims and loea,':-4 a "v "ita . on the banks of the hike. DOESN'T HURT TH' SU.IC'ON- A llll-T..ld Truth Willi l!i'g..ril lo Minor 0.,..tlli Wl.li Hit' Knir... A New Ymk Burgeon coiintu-tod sith one of the pot gniduate medical schools of that city was one dnt on the point of litn'ing a fel ui lor one of tho students, a young southern phy sician. The patient paled t sight of the knife, "it won't hint," observed the surgeon with n sympathetic smile. "I sometimes think," In' added, "that it is well for a surgeon to feci tho point of tho knife at least once in his life. "I saw tny first hospi'ul setvice in this city with Dr. S.. ' lie went on, "and no bettei surgeon was then to be found in America. Me lui 1 n huge dispensary clinic and tarely n day passed that ouc or more rases of felon did not appear. " 'It won't hurt." was always Ins comforting assurance io the ntient. "The old doctor was vciy irritable if n patient made uuy outcry or bother over the lancing of n le on. 'I'ut otir linger dow n tliere,'iudicati:g the edge of t iie table, 'and keep still!' lie commanded; and truth to tel, pa tionis, as a rule, made little fuss. "Tune passed on, and in the muta tions of life Dr. S. had a fe'.on on his l. l't foreliuger, and it was n bud one. lie poultice. I it nud fussed with it for about a week, and walked tho floor with pain at night. At lust it became unendurable, and ho went to his as sistaut sin goon and said, ncnotisly: " '1 sny.doct r.vviil you take a look at my finger?' "1 he assistant surgeon looked aud remarked gravely. Jiuit ought to linve been lance I bofoie. ' " 'Possibly--but'-said Dr. S., and then w Mli a long breath: 'Foihaps you'd better Intn e it now.' " 'Certainly, ' said the assistsut sur geon. "Put your linger on the table. " 'Dr. S. complied, and with a face as white us paper watched the knife." 'lie gentle.' he cautioned; 'Unit's an aw I'ul sore linger. ' "'It won't hurl,' rem u Kel the as sistant surgeon, aud the sharp steel dc-ceiid",!.' " 'Tlieie was a howl of ngouy from Jr. S., and with his linger in his other hand, he danced about the room crying. 'Oh! (Mil dhl' " ' Why,' remarked the assistant surgeon, 'I have beard y..u tell pa tients hundred-, of times that it didn't hurt to lance a leloti. " 'No doubt, no doubt you have!" groaned Dr. S. 'Hut that depends on which end of the knife a man is at.' " Youth's Companion. ItiisslRii Activity In tlie Miin.-liiii'in. Dr. Donaldson Smith of Philadel phia recently arrived in London, hav ing finished his journey of exploration through Mongolia and -Manchuria. Dr. Siuii'u says that the Kussians nro mak ing ett iioilinary clToitsto colonize Manchuria, China. Kxpedtlious, po litical nnd commercial, are constantly passing between Siberia ami Pekin, lititii l.v w ay id' the ( lobi desert aud also by way of Kirin. At Kirtn there is already a conside.'able Hussian per manent population, (n the great Mauchuriiiu riveis, N'niini and Sttn gnri, both tributaries of the Amur, Dr. Smith saw n licet of live light-draught llussiaii steamers and a large number of steel barges employed in the trans pott of troops and nNo in trading with the Chinese. Twenty other steamers o I similar build w etc also under con struction. Prospecting was busily going on in Manchuria, and valuable gold deposits had been discovered. While at Tsitschar, in Manchuria, Dr. Smith met a very large party of Rus sian railway surveyors. They ex-pre-sed themselves to Dr. Smith as much disappointed at lhe nature of the country through w Inch the proposed line to Poi t Arthur was to pass. So great, mi fact, nie the dilliciilties of lai.wiiv construction through Mau dlin ia that the lliissiiins have been discussing the alternative of reaching Port A i th it r and Pekin by making a line through the (iobi desei t, connect ing with the trunk railway nt Lake Haikal. The rate of Hussian railway progress is extremely slow, Dr.Smith stud, and the line to Tort Arthur can not certainly be finished tinder ten years. New York Times. Typical llitinL. There is a marked difference be tween the Spanish and the American hand. In the latter the third fiuger, which isenlled the linger of brilliancy, is s piare -tipped. This gives a prac tical turn to the intellectual develop ment. The second linger iit this hand is spatulnte tipped and well formed, showing a wholesome disposition that is free trotn morbid the ries aud that is impulsive enough to save from over : caution. The first linger is pointed. giving religious sent imetit and ideality i tn art nud sentiment. The first finger i is rather long, which shows a desire i to lead. The fourth tin per is rather long and conical shaped, showing vet satilit v and love of advancement. The thumb is large and independent looking, showing great energy. The piiucipiil lines of this hand, the lines ,f life, late, head and heart, are all strong and well developed. It in a hand that is invincible; it follows no ! one type, but draws strength from various sources, and therefore poi sesses vet satilit v. The Spanish hand belongs entirely to the pointed fiuger type of the dreamer and idealist, rather i than one who can calculate aud exe cute. There could never be a chance for the owner of such hands to win from the many-idea 1, versatile Amei'i-cuu.