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|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.