Newspaper Page Text
|wWEEK
VOL. 45.
AN ILL WIND.
BY IZA DUFFUB HARDY.
Author of “A New Othello,” "Only a Love Story.” Etc., Etc.
Copyrighted. 1895, by iza Duffus Hardy.
“Hark! don't you hear something like
a child crying?” said Lucy Hilton, looking
up from her needlework.
“Nonsense, it’s only cats,” replied Lydia,
not raising her eyes from the fashion book
she was intently studying. "Listen, Lu,
‘For the new mode of cutting the cape on
the bias, lay a fold—’ ”
"Wait, Lyd! It Is a child’s voice—and
listen! there’s a tapping at the window,”
added Lucy. She threw down her work,
crossed the room, opened the window, and
looked out into the night.
“Oh, don’t, Lu! you are letting In a most
horrible draught!” exclaimed Lydia, as the
icy breeze swept in and fluttered the pages
of her fashion book.
Looking out from the cosy curtained
room, that was warm and bright with lamp
and firelight, Into the shadows of the gar
den where spaces of moonlit snow gleamed
between the dark masses of the shrub
beries, Lucy for the first moment did not
see a small figure cowering against the
window-sill, until a little, white, woe-be
gone face was upturned to hers, and a
little voice sobbed pitifully:
"Oh, please, lady, do help us! Mammy’s
very bad, and we’re so tired and hungry,
and so cold! Do give us something to eat,
and It’ll make mammy better."
"But where is she?” asked Lucy.
“There, lady.”
Lucy leant out of the window, looked In
the direction the child indicated, and saw
a dark, motionless heap lying like a blot
on the whiteness of the snow.
“Lying there? Oh, Lydia!” she ex
claimed, In compassion and dismay; “it’s
a poor woman lying In the snow! Go round
to the front door,” she added to the little
boy; "round that way, and I will come
to you there.”
“Oh, Lucy! do take care! It may be a
plot to lure you out of the house,” remon
strated Lydia, whose Imagination was ro
mantic.
“The 'poor woman might die if she
was left to lie out there in the snow
without help,” replied Lucy, hurrying out
of the room.
In a few minutes she returned, and
called to the servants with what seemed
to Lydia unnecessary excitement, “all
about a tramp.”
“Sarah, bring a glass of wine, and a
biscuit, and my thick shawl. Lyd, where
are your smelling salts?”
“What’s the matter?” asked Lydia.
“The poor woman has fainted; she Is
quite insensible, and the child won’t leave
her.”
“Mind what you’re about: it may be
something catching!" Lydia entreated
anxiously. But Lucy had no time to lose.
Hhe ran hack Into the snow-covered gar
den, Sarah and the cook following with
lantern and restoratives, to where the
insensible woman lay. iTlhey held the
salts to her nostrils, and Lucy, gently
raising and supporting her head, put a
of wine to her lips, but. her
were all ,
"Oh, Miss Lucy,” said. Sarah, "I'm
afraid thia isn’t a faint; It. looks like
something worse. • • * I’m afraid
she’s—” The girl lowered her voice and
looking at the child who was crouching
by the woman’s side and clinging to her,
crying piteously, but quietly, too weak
and frightened to sob aloud.
Lydia presently came out, wrapped In
furs, having felt nervous at being left so
unkindly alone In the house, and stood
at a discreet distance.
“What shall we do?" said Lucy anxious
ly. “Do you think we could manage to
carry her to the house?" The servants
demurred, and Lydia remonstrated in
alarm that they didn’t know what might
be the matter with her.
"Here's the master, miss,” exclaimed
the cook, gladly, and Lucy, a loving
daughter, and always glad to see her
father, had never been more glad than
now; The Rev. James Hilton gazed in
surprise and solicitude on the group of
all his little household gathered round
the prostrate woman. Their figures stood
out darkly, like black silhouettes, against
the snow in the moonlight; the yellow
rays of the lantern, which Sarah held,
fell full on the woman’s pale face and
on the fair head of the child nestling
against her.
Lucy quickly explained the position, and
the vicar Instantly desired Sarah to go for
the doctor, calling at the lodge on her
way to send the gardener to help to car
ry the poor woman to the house.
His instructions were promptly carried
out, but before the doctor arrived It was
evident to the vicar’s experienced eye
that there would be nothing when he
came for him to do—no help that mortal
hand could give would avert the end that
was aproacning fast. The patient was
sinking rapidly from insensibility to death.
They could see now that she was a pitiful
wreck of what had once been youth and
beauty, and her clothes, although they
were old and worn and shabby, had, like
the wearer, seen better days. But this
poor soul would see no more days, no,
nor hours, on earth now!
Lucy was terribly shocked at the tragedy
passing under their eyes, the common ev
ery-day tragedy, that yet never loses its
infinite awe-stirring impressiveness.
“Oh, father! to think of a woman dy
ing of cold and starvation at our very
gates!" she said, with tears streaming
down her cheeks.
"It may not be only cold and hunger
that have brought her to this pass, my
child." said her father, soothingly. "We
cannot tell under what illness ana may
be sinking, until the doctor comes.”
When tne doctor did come, it was only
to shake his head and confirm their fear
that the end was dose at hand.
It was with difficulty that they had got
the little boy sway from the dying moth
er; he had been given into the kindly
care of the good-natured cook, who strove
to cheer and comfort him with tea and
cake and cold ham. The child was raven
ous, and "ate like a little wolf,” as the
cook said, but when he had feasted his
fill, he had saved a piece of cake, and
cried to bo allowed to go and take it to
his “mammy”—his mammy who would I
never know or speak to him again, who
even then—
“ Without a word or sigh or groan to show
A parting pang”
had pas d. a nameless unknown amongst
strangers, to a land where cold and hun
ger, sickness and sorrow, shall be no
more.
The doctor’s opinion was that she had
been far advanced In consumption, but that
undoubtedly privation, hardship and ex
posure had hastened the end. Who was i
thia hapless waif who had thus drifted into
their home only to die? The child, when
questioned, could tell them little. His
name was Jackie, his mother’s Mrs.
they could hardly make out the name, but
thought It sounded like Dormer. Thev had '
lived in London, in a street, close to High
street, “where the shops were," but he
could give no nearer description of It. They
were going home to mammy's home; mam
my had spent all the money she had on
the train, and they had been walking ail
day and mammy said they would get home
to-morrow. Where was home? Rose Valei I
Was that the name of the house or vll- ;
Iago? He didn’t know. Where was his
father? He had no dada.
This meager Information was al! that
they could gather, until Sarah came to Mr
Hilton, bringing a little *Uk bag which
they had found round the dead woman’s
neck, and hidden In her bosom, attached
to a ribbon. There didn’t seem to be any
thing in it but bits of paper, she said, but
she thought the master ought to see it.
Reverently and carefully the vigar
01 c chin Ift
4 THE MORNING NEWS. i
< Established 1860. - - Incorporated 1888. >
I J. H. ESTILL, President. >
opened the little bag, and took out the
papers which had been thus jealously
treasured over the dead woman's heart.
They were only torn fragments—torn
across; but on piecing them together he
soon made out two certificates and a let
ter. The first certificate was of the mar
riage of John Edward Dorlmer and Emma
Bolton; the second, the birth of their son
John about a year afterward.
The husband’s age was given as 27, the
wife’s 21. By the date, little Jackie must
be about 6 years old.
The vicar laid the papers down thought
fully, with a sigh of compassion. There
had been no wedding ring on the woman’s
finger, but perhaps it had gone for bread!
for her child’s bread! What hidden story
did these torn fragments—torn, yet treas
ured in her bosom—hint? Was it by ac
cident, or by some hasty act of unbridled
passion, an impulse of destruction, follow
ed and regretted afterwards, that they
had come to this condition? The letter
might give some explanation. He turned
to It; it was only torn twice across, and
he had no difficulty in fitting ithe pieces
together. It was written on thick vellum
paper, without date or address; it had
been apparently dashed off in haste, in a
large, bold scrqwl that had something
characteristic about It. The vicar read:
“My dear Emma—
"l have nothing to add to what I
said in our last interview. I can only re
gret that you received it in such spirit.
I trust you will think better of it, and at
least for the boy’s sake, consent to the
plan I proposed. If you persist in re
fusing this arrangement, the best for all
parties, there can be no necessity for any
further communication between us.
Yours, J. E. D.”
There was no date nor address.
Poor soul!” said Mr. Hilton, laying the
letter down. “Whatever the story may
be, it is a tragedy that has been played
out to the bitter end!’ "
. “What i 3 to be done with that poor little
boy? Lydia Hilton asked the next day,
languidly sympathetic, albeit rather bored
with the whole business.
“There’s only one thing to do with him,”
replied the vicar, “keep him until we can
find out If he has any relations, anybody
belonging to him who can take charge of
him.”
“But that may take a lobg time to find
out, demurred Lydia, “and then there
may not be anybody!”
“In that case I must look out for an
opportunity of placing him in some good
orphan school.’ r
,^ nd until then we can keep him,”
said Lucy, appealingly
be a dreadful trouble and re
sponsibility,” observed Lydia.
1 W, . H J, OOk after him, and take all the
care of him,” Lucy assured her. “He is
such a dear little fellow; such an affec
tionate, tender-hearted child.”
I wish he wouldn’t cry so; it always
makes me quite miserable to hear a child
cry said Lydia, who, indeed, felt it so
distressing that she kept carefully out of
the way, and left to her sister the sad
task of telling the boy of his loss. This
was perhaps the best thing she could do,
for, as she observed somewhat com
plalnlngly. ‘Lucy was the only person
who could do anything with that child;”
buts then Lucy “went on quite ridiculous
ly. Only a little beggar boy! and there
was Lucy washing and dressing him, and
' .ceding ym..,aiAi<hi nJwaglwg h/mmst to
him and saying his prayers with him;
not but what that was all very proper of
dedr fl virtu t o h uslV. Car ‘ S fa!re3t daU * hter ad "
Lydia Hilton was the fairest of the sis
ters; she was indeed the.family beauty,
her chiselled features and blooming com
plexion threw Lucy’s modest good looks
into the shade—though Lucy** had the
sweetest smile and the softest eyes, and
there were those who even preferred her
pale gentle face to that of her lovely sis
lvl»
The vicar made Inquiries with a view to
tracing the family connections—if there
were any-of these waifs and strays, the
living and the dead—poor storm-tossed
fragments, weeds of the world’s wreck
age—whom the tide of fate or chance had
thus washed up at his doors. He could
of r> no ln the neighborhood
called Rose Vale; it must be the name
°U 8 ° me bouse or farm. xhe name of
Dorlmer at first suggested rio associa
s-lan but later an )dea came Into
nla mind that somewhere or somehow he
had hoard it before.
„,l3?° r,n l er ’” sa,d t he village doctor,
whom he consulted on the question.
Why, to be sure, Dorlmer is the Cran
stownes family name. I fancy It is Lord
Cranstownes name—John Dorlmer. Let
Jqhn°^a t ?d.*‘* r ‘ lge ’ and Soe ls there 18
“I haven’t, got a peerage,” said the
vicar, whose interests were unworldly.”
I have," rejoined the doctor, whose in
terests were more mundane. The peer
age was consulted, and under the heading
l £ ey f <> a nd "John Edward
Dorlmer, fifth baron. His age corres
ponded to that mentioned on the certifi
cate of marriage; but the date of his suc
to.Ahe P eera K° on the death of his
elder brother, was some three years la-
F a . a no mention of his mar
, a ? p ’., tho heir-presumptive was stated
to b ® «*■ cousin, Herbert Dorlmer.
V a or namesake,”
8a ..T». Mr - Hilt °n, doubtfully.
demurred the doctor, musingly.
th . lngß bav ® happened than a
>oung fellow s making a fool of himself
by a secret marriage with a low-born
girl. But, he added, suddenly, after a
moment s reflection, “this man is dead.
now 5> u,t ® weU - He d ‘ e(l of
typhoid fever a few months ago. This
peerage is last year’s. Herbert Dori
mer, ’ referring to the important volume.
is Lord Cranstowne now.”
They sat long discussing the matter. It
was strange that the deceased woman, if
she had any claim at all upon the Cran
stowne family, should have been reduced
to such a pass; so strange that they ended
by being inclined to think that the corres
pondence of name and age must be a mere
coincidence. Still they agreed that the
first thing to be done was to write to the
present Lord Cranstowne. explaining the
I circumstances, not omitting to mention
that, pending the receipt of any instruc
tions from him, arrangements would be
made for the interment to take place in
simple and modest form.
At the Vicarage there was much more
Interest felt and expressed in this new
development of the position. Lucy was
sure from the beginning that little Jackie
was of gentle birth; he was so nice-man
nered and well-taught for his years, and
had such pretty ways. Lydia thought It
was very unlikely that a man of Crans
towne s rank would get entangled with “a
poor girl of that sort.” and suggested that
perhaps some imposter had taken his
name. Meanwhile, as no letter was re
ceived from Lord Cranstowne, the unhap
py woman, whose sorrowful life had drift
| ed in darkness and mystery to its close,
was laid to rest in the little churchyard
der ’ be <> t n fy name they could put upon
the coflin-plate, “Emma Dorimer ”
One afternoon the Vicar and his family
were sitting at tea. when they heard the
] sound of light wheels rolling swiftlv up
carrtage-drlve, and a peal at the hall
door ben.
x "Visitors!” said Lydia, hastily putting
up her hand to her head and craning her
nock to steal a glance at the mirror and
assure her that her hair was In order
.Lucy, with an accent of slight Irltatiom
wJ»X ,o you b *ve that child in to tea”’'
Why not,” replied Lucy, with a re
; assuring smile at little Jackie, who was
■fated on her lap with a large piece or
cake in his hand.
» w^»? ur will be all over crumbs, and
I believe it is Lady ManvlHe,” said Lydia
warnir.gly, lowering her voice, as Sarah
was by this time heard opening the hall
don’t drop crumbs.” averred Jackie,
stoutly, lifting his cake to his mouth,
and taking a resolute but careful bite’
The voice now heard tn the haH in par-
ley with Sarah was not Lady Manville’s,
however, and Sarah threw open the par
.lor door with somewhat more of a flour
ish that usual, as she announced:
"Lord Cranstowne.”
A young man entered, tall, good-look
ing, with a lithe, well-knit figure, and
what Lydia immediately tabulated as a
“thoroughbred air.” The vicar rose and
went forward to meet the visitor.
“Mr. Hilton?” the latter said, in cour
teous Interrogation.
The vicar bowed assent.
“I have called,” Lord Cranstowne con
tinued, going directly to the point; “to
inquire into the matter of which you
wrote me. I have been abroad and only
received your letter yesterday.” He look
ed round the room, acknowledging the
presence of the vicar’s daughters with
a salutation not lacking in deference, al
though his expression was serious and
unsmiling. “Is that the child?” he ad
ded.
“Yes,” replied Lucy, “this is little Jack
ie. Won’t you go and speak to the gen
tleman, dear?” she added, setting the
boy down from her lap. But Jackie hung
back, clinging to her dress, and gazing
doubtfully and critically at the stranger
with his ,grave blue eyes. Lucy rose
and took him by the hand, and led him
forward, saying coaxingly: “Come, dar
ling, tell the gentleman your name!”
"Yes, tell me what your name is, my
little man!”
The child found his tongue when he
was reassured as to the intentions of the
stranger who addressed him so kindly.
“My name’s Jackie Dormer,” he said,
looking up bravely in the visitor’s face.
It was a nice face, Lucy thought, as
she glanced up at it too. It wore a some
what troubled and thoughtful expression
just now, but the eyes were frank and
kindly. It struck her like a flash that
there was a resemblance in them to
little Jackie’s. This thought may have
struck Lord Cranstowne, too, he looked
so earnestly and searchingly at the child.
"This is a curious affair, my lord,”
said the vicar; “perhaps you can throw
some light upon it?” ’
“I am very much in the dark myself, but
we must get to the rights of it somehow,”
Lord Cranstowne replied. His tone was
as firm and as resolute as it was frank,
and it occurred to both Lucy and her fa
ther, as they looked at the young man’s
face, that it would be a dark place
through which he would not find or force
away.
The vicar suggested that they should
“step Into his study” to talk the matter
over; and, accordingly, Lydia and Lucy
were left alone to discuss this new and in
teresting advance in the position. Lydia
insisting, with a proverbial quotation
anent “little pitchers,” that Master Jackie
should be banished to the kitchen. Mr.
Hilton and the visitor remained shut up
in the seclusion of the study for an hour,
which seemed a very long hour to the
girls: and when they returned to the par
lor, Lord Cranstowne immediately looked
around and asked for the boy. Lucy
jumped up and ran to fetch him, “in a
very undignified way,” thought Lydia,
and Jackie soon made his re-appearance,
clasping Lucy’s hand tight in his small
chubby Angers.
“My daughter has taken a great fancy
to the child,” the vicar observed. Lord
Cranstowne smiled, and they all noticed
what a pleasant smile he had, as he looked
at the little boy nestling up to his pro
tectress’s side and burrowing into her
skirts. He had the bad taste to seem
more interested in that tiresome child
than in Lydia’s charms. Evidently the
boy was the magnet that attracted his
attention to Lucy.
"Come here, Jackie, dear,” said Lydia,
ingratiatingly, "come and have this nice
piece of cake!”
The bribe of cake brought Jack to her
sid?. .
"Do you remember your father, Jackie?”
Lord Cranstowne inquired.
"Yes. Dada b’ought me a wocklng
horse, so big!”
"What was he like?”
Jackie opened his large blue eyes wide
as if puzzled In a vacant stare.
"Do you remember, dear, what your
father looked like?” Lucy urged him en
couragingly. Jackie brightened.
"Like the gentleman,” he replied with
an indicative nod.
"My cousin and I were not generally
supposed to be much alike,” observed Lord
Cranstowne "but I suppose there was a
certain family resemblance."
The young man soon rose up to take his
leave.
"I will write and tell you how .. this
matter progresses,” he said, as he shook
hands with the vicar. “Meanwhile, as you
are so kind as to offer to look after the
child for the present, I will leave him
in your charge. I hope Miss Hilton,”
turning to Lucy, "will not find him too
much trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Lucy answered
warmly.
"We love children,” protested Lydia,
promptly taking her cue.
But Lord Cranstowne’s eyes were dwell
ing on her sister’s face. "Thank you for
your goodness to the boy,” he said, more
softly. “Perhaps some day Jackie will
be able to thank you better himself.”
"That is a tine fellow,” Mr. Hilton said
when the visitor had departed.
"He has no hesitation about doing the
right thing, and it is not every man in
his place who would be so ready to see
it and to do it. Os course, this is a very
serious matter for him. He recognizes
his cousin’s handwriting in the letter—a
very Important point. If those certifi
cates are genuine—and I must say there
seems no reason to doubt their genuine
ness—of course he i»no more Lord Crans
towne than I am. It is this boy," laying
his hand on little Jackie’s curly yellow
head, "who succeeds to the title and such
property as goes with it.”
"How dreadful!” exclaimed Lydia, in
fervent sympathy with the young man
whom she had already set upon a pedestal
as her latest hero of romance.
"It would indeed be very- hard on Lord
Cranstowne,” said Lucy, thoughtfully.
“But he docs not look like a man who
would even wish to defraud an orphan
child "X his birtn-right.”
The 'Xr did not encourage the girls to
. dwell on >e subject, but although they
talked little of it in family conclave, they
all thought of it a great deal—the father
perhaps as much as tfie daughters. He
had gathered from his conversation with
the present Lord Cranstowne—if such in
deed he were—that his predecessor in the
title had, during his minority, caused
much trouble ana anxiety to his guardians
and that later on, there had been rumors
of some “entanglement;” but John Dori
mer had not been of a temper to brook in
terference or questioning, and had gone
his own way—a way on which but little
light was shed, none knowing by what
possibly crooked paths It might wind. His
cousin and successor now felt it his duty
to institute searching investigation Into
this matter, and ascertain whether he
had indeed been married and left an heir
The family at the vicarage waited eag
erly to hear the upshot of his
but day after day passed and no letter from
Lord Cranstowne arrived. When a little
more than a week elapsed, however he
came again, but came this time not alone
he brought with him a tall, spare, elderly
man, with iron-grey hair, and keen eyes,
glancing shrewdly through his gold
rimmed spectacles, whom he introduced
as Mr. Sharpe, who had been the trusted
legal adviser of the family for manv
years, and who had—though as it ap
peared. not too willingly-assisted Lord
Cranstowne in prosecuting his researches
into this question of the late peer’s mar
rl aKe \ h !!? to cut his own
throat, as the old lawyer grimly ob
served.
They had discovered the surviving rela
| tives of Emma Bolton, who had disap
peared from her home about seven years
ago. and had afterward written to her
I family, telling them she was married to a
gentleman, whose name, however she was
not at liberty then to disclose
They had further found the church
where the marriage -was performed, the
clergyman who officiated, and the house
to which John Dorimer had taken his
bride. There were, of course, still many
gaps and lost links in the story of this
secret union; what seemed clear was
that the late Lord Cranstowne had mar
ried beneath him in haste and repented
at leisure. It was at least possible that
SAVANNAH, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1895.
Emma Dorimer had not been aware of
her husband’s true position In life, nor
of his succession to the title; or it might
be that, knowing it, she had acted on
some impulse of outraged feeling and
wounded pride in accepting the separa
tion, and refraining, even on her child’s
behalf, from pressing her claim to ac
knowledgment as his wife. Or, again, it
was possible that her mind had been
worked upon to doubt the validity of her i
marriage, or that Dorimer, whose char
acter came out but badly from the in- |
vestigation, had desired to take the boy
from her, that she had fled and hidden
herself from him in mother-longing to j
keep her child all her own.
Whatever the details of this said story i
of a mesalliance might be, the truth of
the marriage at least was clear.
“So,” said Lord Cranstowne—or, as we
must now call him, Herbert Dorimer—
“there is no room for doubt that I have
unknowingly stepped into this child’s
rightful place and usurped his rights.
But now- the boy comes into his own
again. The matter will soon be arranged;
Mr. Sharpe will represent the little lad’s
Interests.”
"I would rather have represented
yours,” rejoined the old lawyer, with a
dissatifled air. “It was against my ad
vice that inquiries were pressed into this
matter. No man is bound to criminate
himself, nor to put himself out of the
way to seek a clew to invalidate his own
title. There was no one who would have
troubled to dig up this old affair, and
push inquiries into the grave of this
buried secret.”
"That was just why I had to do it,"
said Herbert Dorimer, frankly, “because
there was no one else! The child was an
orphan, and had no other relatives to
protect his intersts.”
“It was Quixotic, sir!” said Mr. Sharpe,
sternly. But his eyes dwelt on the young
er man’s face with a very friendly look,
and their shrewd glance was not quite
as keen as usual. His spectacles were
’rather dim; he took them off, and wiped
the glasses, and blew his nose, as he re
peated, “It was a Quixotic'thing for a man
to do.”
“It was a noble thing!” said the vicar,
warmly. “Allow me to shake hands with
you, Lord Cranstowne—excuse my call
ing you so once more! And let me say,
and I am sure Mr. Shapre will agree
■with me, that however long a line of de
scendants of the family tnere may be,
there will never be a worthier one to
bear the name.”
Mr. Herbert Dorimer seemed father em
barrassed by his own praises, and hastily
made a diversion by inquiring for “his
young kinsman.” Murmurs outside the
door presently indicated that Jackie
strenuously objected to enter the room
without being protected by the company
of Lucy, who accordingly came In with
him. On the strength of his new posi
tion she had got him a little black velvet
suit which he wqs wearing for the first
time, and in which, with his yellow curls
neatly combed, Jackie looked a very pret
ty little .gentleman, and as Mr. Sharpe
was betrayed into observing, albeit re
luctantly, as he looked upon the innocent
instrument of Herbert Dorimer’s down
fall, “ a Dfirimer every Inch of him!”
“Well, Jackie, how shall you like to be
Lord Cranstowne?” Inquired he who was
yielding up that title. Jackie apparently
set no great store by his new dignity,
for after some hesitation he announced
that he would rather have a box of sll
dlers.”
"You shall have a box of soldiers, too,”
promised the kinsman, whereon Jackie,
evidently thinking it would be a pity to
waste his opportunities, now that fortune
had sent him so generous a friend, added
that he "should like a little horse and
cart, too,”
Herbert Dorimer smiled and, looking
up from the boy to LVdy, he met her eyes
uiiSwaiud? tutu iw. .ii Them uTT
which, although he was not a coxcomb,
he could not but recognize as flattering—
the nature of which, however, because he
was not a coxcomb, he could not mistake.
The girl’s eyes revealed as honestly and
simply as her father’s words had done,
a frank appreciation of his conduct in
laying down the honors to which he had
discovered he had no rightful claim.
"Poor world!” thought the young man
to himself, “to think one should be ad
mired and complimented for merely not
being a rogue!’
But all the same, he was gratified by
that momentarily betraying glance in
Lucy’s soft brown eyes in the moment be
fore they turned quickly from his, and
the color rose in her usually pale cheek,
and the rose of her blush lent her new
bloom and charm. Lucy was not beauti
ful like her sister, but he thought he
had never seen a sweeter face nor a more
graceful and winning air.
Before the visitors left the vicarage that
day, Mr. Dorimer inquired whether Mr.
Hilton would care to be troubled with so
young a pupil as Jackie? for if he were
willing to undertake such a charge, the
boy could have no happier home, nor
could his education and trainipg be in bet
ter hands. The terms proposed were most
liberal, and at the vicarage ways and
means had sometimes to be strained to
make both ends meet; so it is probable
that even if the charge had been a more
troublesome one, and if the family had
not already conceived an interest in the
boy, that the proposal would have been
readily accepted.
So little Jackie became an inmate of the
vicarage. Mr. Dorimer soon came down
"to see how the boy was getting on,” and
came again, and yet again, and quickly
fell into the habit of coming often and
regularly. And Lydia always sakl that
Jackie was “a sweet boy,” and gave him
toys and candy; but the sweet boy kept
steadily to his original preference for
Lucy.
One summer day it happened that Mr.
Dorlmer and Lucy were left alone In the
parlor, which did not so very often oc
cur, as Lydia generally favored them with
her company. They were sitting by the
very window to which the hungry shiver
ing child had crept in the darkness of
the winter evening. The snow drifts had
lain deep in the hollows, and spread like
a white shroud over the gardens then.
Now the August sunshine blazed upon
borders a-bloom with flowers, and the
Lord Cranstowne’s joyous shouts came to
their ears, as he raced and romp«d up and
down the lawn with his favorite dog. The
remembrance of that winter evening cross
ed Lucy’s mind; she thought of the hapless
mother and the forlorn child, and spoke
of these reminiscences to Herbert Dori
mer.
“It is like a dream,” she said. “And to
think that it was only last winter! It
seems years and years since that day. I
fancy poor little Jackie remembers it some
times still, thought he is very happy now,
I think.” (
“He ought to be,” Herbert Dorimer re
plied. “It was a lucky day for him. I
wonder was it a lucky or an unlucky day
for me?”
“Unlucky for you,” said Lucy, her soft
eyes betraying the sympathy her lips did
not utter. “For if Jackie’s poor mother had
tone to any of the poor cottages, and
ied there, they might not have noticed
the tom papers, nor realized their im
portance, and so the writer of the letter
might not have been traced. Yes, it wa»
your unlucky day; it was gain for Jackie,
but all loss to you.”
“All loss,” he repeated. “That is what
I want to find out now. True, I have lost!
much—lost more than you think, unless,
you have guessed. Lucy, have you guessed |
—that I have lost my heart?”
Lucy looked up startled; her own heart;
fluttering like a frightened bird. Was it ■
Lydia, her beautiful sister, the power of i
i whose all-conquering charms she was so
well accustomed to hear acknowledged?
But she met Herbert Dorimer’s eyes, and
before them her own sank shyly, white
a swift blush mantled in her cheek, as
something she read in his look revealed to
her that it was not Lydia.
“Is it all loss?” he added, softly. “Lucy,
you are the one woman in the world for
me. Must I lose—here, too?— must I lose
. the hope I have been bold enough to
1 cherish lately, that you might some day
I come to care for me a little? Tell me
Lucy, have I been too bold?"’ But he
knew, as he held her little trembling hand
fast in his own strong clasp, that he
might be bolder still.
“Dearest." he said, with tender pos
sessiveness a little later, when doubt and
hope were merged in happy confidence,
“it was the luckiest day of my life that
brought me here. I lost the title and
the estate, but the loss is nothing com
pared to the treasure I have won.”
Sweet Lucy has been Mrs. Dorimer for
some time now; the orange blossoms have
withered from the bridal wreath; but
Herbert Dorimer still thinks, and says,
that his lucky star was in the ascendant
the day that took him to the vicarage, to
lose a fortune and find a bride.
Little Jackie grows a fine, tall, hand
some boy, and promises, in spite of the
inauspicious beginning of his career, to
be a credit to the family. He spends his
holidays with the Dorimers, and is still
devoted to his cousin Herbert’s wife.
“How you are growing, Cranstowne!”
said an old friend of the family one day,
playfully rallying the boy. “Why, you are
quite a man now; and when, pray, are
you going to get married?”
“When I find a woman like Cousin
Lucy,” young Lord Cranstowne replied,
sturdily.
“You’ll have to wait some time, Jack,
and look a long way before you find
that,” said Herbert Dorimer, smiling at
the wife, who was “far above rubies” in
his eyes.
(The End.)
ARMENIANS BESIEGED.
The Police to Starve Them Out ot
Their Churches in Constantinople..
Constantinople, Oct. 9.—The police took
extreme action yesterday in regard to the
Armenians, who took refuge in their
churches, and refused to leave, by closing
all the Armenian churches in the city
and its suburbs. These churches are now
surrounded by police in strong force. The
refugees are allowed to leave, but nobody
except the priests is permitted to enter.
In addition to this the guards refuse to
allow food or water to be passed inside,
hoping thereby to compel the refugees to
come out.
London, Oct. 9.—A dspatch from Trebi
zonde to a news agency says: “Serious
conflicts took place here yesterday be
tween Turks and Armenians, in which
many of the latter were killed.”
London, Oct. 9.—A dispatch to the Cen
tral News from Constantinople says that
massacres of Christians have occurred at
Rodosto, in Roumelia; at Silivri, forty
miles west of Constantinople, and at Is
mid, in Asia Minor, fifty-six miles south
east of Constantinople. Ths» dispatch adds
that it is rumored that Saia Pasha, minis
ter of foreign affairs, is suffering from a
slight stroke of apoplexy.
The Standard will to-morrow publish a
Constantinople dispatch dated Oct. 8, say
ing that the council of ministers sat all
night, considering the demands of the
powers in reference 4o Armenia. It is
now announced that the porte has accept
ed the scheme, with the modifications the
powers declared were admissable. Noth
ing certain, however, is known. The dis
patch adds that it is learned from a Turk
ish source that the six powers, in their
recent joint note, demanded besides the
adoption of provisions for the public safe
ty, the immunity of Armenians from fur
ther arrest and violence, and that a com
mittee of inquiry into the outbreak be
appointed, delegates of the powers shar
ing in the investigation.
The dispatch further says that Russia
has assured the porte that although she
has formally joined the powers in their
demands, she does not intend to take ex
treme measures.
Evidence accumulates that the action
of the Softas and Kurds last week was
directed by Turkish officials. Turkish
newspapers say the sultan ordered that
several hundred sheep and a quantity of
rteficaGies hf* given the Bcftas as a reward
for their loyalty. *
Berlin, Oct. 9.—A Constantinople dis
patch to the Kreuz Zeltung says that the
Armenian affair is gradually becoming
the starting point of a struggle between
Great Britain and Russia for paramount
influence in the Bosphorus. It is not im
possible that Said Pasha will be recalled
to his old position of grand vizier. Rus
sian diplomacy is now trying Solely to
secure the removal of Grand Vizier
Kiamil Pasha, to w’hich end Russia will
even support Turkey against Great
Britain.
DURRANT ON THE STAND.
He Tells of Hl« Movements on the
Day of the Murder.
San Francisco, Oct. 9.—Theodore Dur
rant unexpectedly took the stand this
morning. When Gen. Dickerson called his
name, the defendant arose from his seat
and with an elastic step walked to the
stand. He answered the questions put to
him in a steady voice. He testified that
he was 24 years of age. He knew Blanche
Lamont, having been introduced to her by
her aunt, Mrs. Noble. He associated with
her every week when she visited the
church. He acted as usher at the morning
services and also assisted in the choir.
Whenever there was anything wrong with
the sun-burners he always repaired them.
He met Miss Lamont on the morning of
April 3 at the corner of Twenty-first and
Mission streets while on his way to the
residence of George R. King, to get him
to help him repair the sun burners. She
told him she Was going to school and he
invited her to walk along the block with
him. "I said that I would then accompany
her to school,” continued the witness.
“She said she had no time, was already
late, but would be pleased to have me ac
company her.”
"I acceded to her request. We took a car
and transferred at Larkin street, and
again at Sutter street. She got off at
Gough street to go to school, and I con
tinued on to Webster street and went to
Cooper College.”
“Did you see Blanche Lamont again?"
“I never did,” replied Durrant firmly.
He had attended college for three and a
half years. About noon he left the college
and went north on Webster street, bought
a few nuts at a fruit store on Clay street,
near Webster, and ate them. He was
away from college about an hour. On his
return he saw on a blackboard the words
“Dr. Stillman will not lecture to-day."
He then took a walk to Broadway, on
which street he met Student Carter. He
returned to the college about 1 o'clock
and went to the library to look up author
ities connected with his graduating exer
cises. He had there a talk with Student
Diggins about catarrh, and advised Dig
gins to get an atomizer. Durrant was
still giving his evidence when the court ad
journed for the noon recess.
KUCHENG’S OUTRAGE.
Every Means Short of Force Exhaust
ed in Trying; to Obtain an Inquiry.
London, Oct. 9.—A disj)atch to a news
agency from Shanghai says the British
and American consuls report that every
thing has been done to obtain an inquiry
into the attack on the missionaries at
Kucheng short of using force. British gun
boats are going up the Min river to protect
British interests. Another dispatch from
Shanghai says Admiral Buller has arrived
there on board the British dispatch boat
Alacrity. ______
TRANSFER THIEVES.
The Manager of the Company Com
mits Suicide.
Kansas City, Mo., Oct. 9.—To avoid ar
rest as the head of the “Transfer Gang”
of thieves, whose peculations have re
cently been discovered by the police, H. C.
Litchfield, manager of the Railroad
Transfer Company, committed suicide to
day. Thomas Noland, a driver, has turned
state’s evidence against the gang, which
has stolen goods amounting to many thou
sands of dollars.
CUBANS BOUND TO CONQUER.
SENOR VERONA CONFIDENT OF THE
OUTCOME.
He Contradicts the Assertions of Se
nor Mortero That the Uprising Is
Insignificant—The People of the
Whole Western Section of the
Island Ready to Take Up Arms.
Spaniards in Brazil Ready to Fight
for the Government Against the
Cubans.
New York, Oct. 9.—Senor Henrlque Jose
Varona, one of the most eminent living
Cubans, a noted writer on philosophy and
literature, and a prominent member of the
autonomist party, formerly editor of an
autonomist paper, was interviewed on his
arrival yesterday on the steamship Sen
eca from Havana, as to the statements
recently made by Senor Mortero, another
autonomist.
Mr. Varona contradicted pointedly the
assertions made by Mr. Mortero and de
clared that the revolution in Cuba far
from being insignificant, was a most seri
ous movement, progressing rapidly, and
daily gaining both in extent and strength.
He said that if its onward march was not
checked, and for the present he did not see
what could check it, it would reach, be
fore long, all through the -western ex
tremity of the Island. The Cuban people
of that section were quite prepared for it,
and if they had not yet risen it was for
lack of means to do so. The revolutionary
spirit was so rampant that an outbreak
might take place at any moment. Ma
tanzas was a boiling Waldron and so was
Cienfuegos and the other cities, which ap
parently remained quiet. They were only
waiting for an opportunity. He said that
he could count on the fingers of his hand
the Cubans who were ndt heart and soul
with the revolution, although many of
them, unable to leave the place, were com
pelled to act as if they were on the Span
ish side.
The autonomist party, Mr. Varona said,
had virtually dissolved. At Havana there
was only a central committee, and even
that committee may be said to be com
posed of only four men, one of whom is
Mortero. The others continue to appear as
members because they do not see their way
to withdrawing without giving riee to sus
picions about their loyalty, a most serious
matter just now. Outside of Havana, the
members of the autonomist party have
either joined the revolutionary forces or
have left the country.
Mr. Verona thought that the financial
difficulties of Spain were beyond her
strength, and expressed faith in the suc
cess of the revolution. He proposes to
establish his residence in New York and
to co-operate with his friends in Cuba.
Havana, Oct. 5, via Tampa, Fla., Oct. 9.
—Madrid cable advices, published here,
announce the departure from Madrid of
Senor Romero Robledo, minister of jus
tice and mercy, for 'his estates in Andalu
sia.
The lengthy speech of Senor Maura, a
Spanish deputv, and formerly minister for
the colonies. leached Madrid Sept. 28. It
is a very vigorous document. On Sept.
30 a telegram was received in Madrid from
San Sebastian, giving the views, of Pre
mier Canovas, on Senor Maura’s appeal
for Cuba and Cubans. Senor Canovas
recognizes the good faith of Senor Maura,
when the latter states that the reforms
will not endanger Spain’s national in
tegrity, but he deems it romantic to sup
pose armed negroes can be disarmed by
pleasing phrases.
Three hundred Spaniards are ready to
embark at Rio de Janeiro for Cuba. They
have volunteered for the war.
A reconciliation is announced between
the minister of justice and mercy and the
minister of the colonies. This heals a
breach in the cabinet.
La Epoca de Madrid says that Count de
la Mortera, with patriotic Impulse, has
offered the co-operation of the party of
which he is a leader to Senor Canovas.
Havana advices from London report an
unofficial denial in London of the state
ment attributed to Mr. Olney, Secretary
of State for the United States, that he
had said that the United States would In
tervene if Spain failed in quelling the re
bellion in three months.
Madrid, Oct. 9. —The Imparcial’s Havana
dispatch says the sunken cruiser Cristo
bal Colon has become a total wreck.
The dispatch also says it is reported
that the insurgent leader Roloff has died
from putrid fever.
The report of the wounding of the rebel
general, Antonio Maceo, in the battle of
Sept. 26 is confirmed.
A number of Spanish Mexicans are ex
pected to arrive in Cuba from Mexico to
enter the service of the government.
A dispatch from Havana says the safe,
torpedoes and quick firing guns of the
sunken cruiser Cristobal Colon have been
saved, but that the big guns will be re
covered is extremely doubtful.
The cabinet has signed a loan of $15,-
000,000 with the Banque de Paris Ea du
Pay Bas, wholly for Cuban expenses. One
third of the loan is payable between Nov.
1 and 10 and the remaining installments
will be paid in December ana February.
An official dispatch from Havana states
th&t a small band of rebels is reported at
Guira. This is the first appearance of in
surgents in the province of Havana.
Havana, Oct. 9.—Rebels exploded a dyn
amite cartridge under one of the pillars
of the Saguas railway bridge of the river
Sagua La Chica last evening, slightly
damaging the structure. The injury was
repaired immediately.
The money chest and light artillery of
the wrecked cruiser, Cristobal Colon, have
been raised from the sunken hulk.
Washington, Oct. 9.—Acting Secretary
Wike has sent the following telegram to
the collectors of customs at Tampa and
Kew West, Fla., and New Orleans, La.:
Treasury Department, Washington, D.
C., Oct. 9.—The state department an
nounces that leaders and a considerable
number of men have left the keys; that
Woodhall is about to start from New Or
leans conveying a party, and that Childs
is probably now In Key West preparing
to sail. The Spanish consul in Tampa re
ports an expedition now al Pine Reef,
Fla. Consult the United States district
attorney and the officers of the nearest
revenue cutters to prevent the appre
hended violations of the neutrality laws
of the United States.
Attorney General Harmon has instruct
ed the United States marshals for Florida
and Louisiana, and the United States dis
trict attorney for the same states to co
operate with the treasury custom officials
to prevent any filibustering expeditions
leaving the United States to aid the Cuban
rebels.
Atlanta, Ga., Oct. 9.—Dr. A. J. Diaz,
missionary of the Southern Baptist con
vention in Cuba, is in Atlanta, confer
ring with his board. Acting upon the
advice of the home mission board, he re
fuses, however, to discuss the fight now
going on on the island, but states that
under his immediate supervision Red
Cross stations have been established in
the interior, where the war is being waged.
Each of these stations is equipped witn
one physician, two female nurses and ten
male helpers. The battlefields are visited
and the wounded of both sides taken to
the stations to be cared for. This noble
work has won the gratitude of the in
surgents and government alike, and the
latter has bestowed upon Dr. Diaz the offi
cial title of "Sub-inspector of Hospital
Gentleman of the Red Cross."
London, Oct. 9.—The Times to-morrow
will publish a dispatch from Havana stat
ing that the bitterness between the Cu
bans and Spaniards in the province of San
ta Clara is increasing. The numbers of the
( WEEKLY 2-TTMES-A-WEEK $1 A YEAR 1
4 5 CENTS A COPY. J-
t DAILY, »0 A YEAR. J
MONDAYS
AND
THURSDAYS
rebels have been largely swelled lately,
but they lack arms and ammunition. The
dispatch adds that Capt. Gen. Campos, In
an Interview recently, expressed annoy
ance at the attitude of 'the United States,
especially In regard to the Spanish at
tempts to prevent the landing of filibus
tering expeditions. He quoted the case
of the steamer Alllanca as an instance of
needless trouble.
Special Correspondence of the United
Press.
Santiago de Cuba, Oct. 1, via Key West,
Oct. 9.—Those here who argued that the
Cubans could not be recognized as bellig
erents, because they needed to have a
regular government acting, were surprised
to learn that a government had been or
ganized and the fundamental laws of the
republic of Cuba were formally pro
claimed. Official confirmation of this news
has been received here, and also that the
independence of the Island of Cuba was
solemnly declared on Sept. 23, at Ariton de
Puerto Principe province. The govern
ment has been constituted in the follow
ing manner.
President—Salvador Cisnernos Betai
court of Puerto Principe.
Vice President—Barolome Masso of Man
zanillo.
Secretary of War—Carlos Peoloff oi
Santa Clara.
Vice Secretary of War—Marie Menocal
oi Matanzaq
Secretary of Foreign Relations—RafaeJ
Portuon de Tamayo of Santiago de Cuba.
Vice Secretary of Foreign Affairs—Fer
min Valdis Dominguez of Havana.
Secretary of Finance—Sevro Pina of
Sanctis Spiritus.
Vice Secretary of Finance—Joaquin Cas
tillo Duaney of Santiago de Cuba.
Secretary of the Interior—Santigo Ca
nizers of Remidois.
Vice Secretary of the Interior—Carlo*
Dubois of Baracoa.
General-in-Chief—'Maximo Gomez.
Lieutenant General—Antonio Maceo.
Jose Maceo, Masso, Capoteat, Serafim
and Rodeguez have J>een appointed major
generals. Jose Maceo will lead operations
in Baraco. Guantanamo and Santiago da
Cuba, Manzanillo, Bayamo and Holguin.
Sanchez in the villas and Rodriquez in
Camaguey. Gomez and Maceo are plot
ting the invasion of Matanzas.
The headquarters of the new govern
ment has been established in Puerto Prin
cipe province, and a systematic govern
ment is to be maintained.
PASCO AND THE CUBANS.
He Favors National Recognition of
Their Belligerency.
Jacksonville, Fla., Oct. 9.—lt will be re
membered that the council of the city of
Jacksonville at its last meeting unani
mously adopted a resolution urging upon
Florida’s representatives in congress na
tional recognition of the Cuban insurg
ents as belligerents.
Recorder West yesterday received th®
following letter from Senator Pasco:
Monticello, Fla., Oct. 7.—William C.
West, Esq., Recorfler’s Office, Jackson
ville, Fla.: Dear sir—l have received
yours of the 4th instant, with a copy of
the resolution favoring the recognition
of the Cuban insurgents as belligerents,
adopted by the city council of Jackson
ville at its last meeting. •
I will retain this copy of the action of
the council and will take an early oppor
tunity to present it in the Senate at the
first convenient time after the opening of
congress in December. I am entirely in
sympathy with our Cuban neighbors, and
will make use of every proper effort that
I can as a senator to assist them in their
struggle for independence and in the es
tablishment of'a republican form of gov- 1 -
ernment. Yours, very truly, S. Pasco.
GERMANY’S SOCIALISTS.
Wreaths Placed on the Tomb of L«
Salle by the Delegates.
Breslau, Oct. 9.—The arrest and expul
sion from Germany of Dr. Ellenborgen, an
Austrian delegate to the socialist con
gress, yesterday, is attributed to a speech!
delivered by him in laudation, of social
ism, together with the fact of his enter
ing Germany without proper papers.
The report of the expulsion from the
congress of Frau Zelkin, the editress of
the Etuttgart Gleichheit, was erroneous.
She delivered a speech in the congress
upon the subject of the emancipation of
women.
The authorities forbade the delegates to
march in procession to the tomb of La.
Salle to-day, as they had Intended to do,
and they were obliged to proceed to th®
cemetery in small groups and laid wreath*
upon the grave. The tableaux vivants.
which had been arranged for to-night were
also forbidden by the police.
SACKVILLE’S ATTACK ON BAYARD.
The Latter Declines to Be Interview
ed on the Subject.
London, Oct. 9.—The representative of
the United Press called to-day upon Am
bassador Bayard, who Is the guest of th*
Marquis of Bath at Longleat with Min
ister Wiltshire, In reference to the at
tack made upon him by Lord Sackville,
Mr. Bayard said that the matter was en
tirely out of his hands, and was con
tained in the official diplomatic corro
epondenpe exchanged between Great
Britain and the United States in 1888.
Mr. Bayard added that he would say
nothing more, the foregoing being all
that was necessary.
RIOTING AT BARCELONA.
Malcontent Students at the Unlver>*
■tty, Cause Trouble.
Barcelona, Oct. 9.—This afternoon g
number of malcontent students at the
university here stoned their peaceabla
comrades. When they tired of this they;
proceeded to the residence of the rector
and smashed the wlnaows. Later the#
held a meeting, at which some republican
members of the Chamber of Deputies de
livered harangues. The police finally
stopped the meeting. Afterwards a mob
numbering 1,500 persons, headed by two
anarchists, marched to the university.
Here the police arrested the anarchist*
and dispersed the mob.
POPE LEO AND ITALIAN UNITY.
The Liberals Greatly Displeased by
His Recent Letter.
Rome, Aug. 9.—The letter recently writ
ten by the pope to Cardinal Bampolla,
papal secretary of state, protesting
against the fetes in celebration of tho
twenty-fifth anniversary of Italian unity,
has greatly stirred up the liberals, and is
likely to add to the warmth of the popu
lar reception of King Charles of Portugal,
who Is expected to. visit Rome on Oct. 17.
King Charles is disliked at the Vatican,
and his visit is discouraged by the pope,
who, it is believed, will refuse to receive
him.
NO ENLISTMENT IN THE CONGO.
The Story of the Gathering of (1,000
Men Unfounded.
Brussels, Oct The Journal Bruxelle*
denies upon official authority the state
ment made in the Antwerp Matin yes
terday that the Congo state authorities
are enlisting a force of«, 000 men for an
expedition. The only men that ere being
enlisted are a few hundred recruits who
are intended to reinforce weak posts.
NO. 79.