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■■■ A
WEEK
VOL. 45.
DEAD LEAVES.
By JOHN STRANCE WINTER.
Author of “A Born Soldier,” “Booties’ Baby,” “Beautiful Jim,” “Aunt Johnnie,”
Etc., Etc,
Copyrighted, 1805, by John Strange Winter.
CHAPTER I.
What made me think of her to-night
of all nights, 1 wonder? I haven’t given
her a thought for years and years—at
least not often. Let me see, she—that is
Marian Chatterton—parted from me just
twenty years ago, when I was a slight
slipi of a newly-joined subaltern, and
she, well, she was a year or two older.
Was she good looking? Yes, the hand
somest worrian I had ever seen up to
that time. Tall and stately and uncom
mon-looking, with dark hair with a rud
dy tinge Ip it, and soft dusky eyes that
shone out of her pale pure face like black
pearls. Yep, yes, a most beautiful' wo
man. I had never seen her like before;
I have never seen her. like since.
And we parted. it was through
no fault of mine; that was always a con
solation to me. Indeed, it was through
no fault of anyone's. It was fate. Yes,
that was it. ’ For Marian, my most beau
tiful, the love and lode-star of my youth,
was already engaged to be married when
We> first met I remember it as if it had
been but yesterday.
We met at the very first ball which my
regiment gave after I joined it. Yes, I
was but a young chap and quite unused
to the ways of the world, for I had beep
kept in with a tight hand, and had never
been in love in my life, and like all young
sters who haye.been kept tight, when I
di<l break out ltdid not half do it. No, I
put all my eggs into that one basket, and
when the basket fell out of my hand (o
the ground my poor young ignorant eggs
went to smash, every one of them.
Twenty years ago the ball dresses were
not like the ball dresses of to-day. Oh,
no, for a young lady when she appeared
ip a ball room then always gave one the
idea of a ball of swan’s-down, and was
surrounded by billows of foamy tulle, or
if not tolls of some thin and transparent
diaphanous material which revealed
what It was intended to hide, and was
probably exceedingly dangerous when in
the vicinity of a lighted candle. And
that was the kind of dress that Marian
Cliatteron .Worn on th<e night when 1 saw
her first. ~ , ~ .
I remember it so well. T was standing at
the door of the big ballrooms ul Itlank
hampton, feeling not a little proud of my
position as one of the hosts of the evening,
and determined to comport myself with
the dignity becoming to the occasion. I
remember that I refused to dance with a
fine air of carelessness, as if I haa used
up all those desires long ago. As a matter
of fact I danced out of the common welt
end my feet were fairly Itching to be off
In time to the music of the waltz just be
gun. And then she came* She came with a
rather large party, and she was dressed
all in white and Iboked like a snowflake.’
“Who are these people?” I asked of my
queerest neighbor, a hs<idsom®.lad called
Owen, who was afterwards killed at Cau
* “Thosel Oh. that’s Lady de Longuevllle
—the stout old party in black velvet and
diamonds,” he replied. “I believe she has,
a biggish house-party for the occasion.
Terrible old bore the old lord is too. By
Jove, he nailed me at dinner the other
night and talked for over an hour on early
Thebes and similar topics. I could have
cut my throat, or his, with pleasure.’
“But the dark girl, the one in white?
I persisted, following Marian’s figure with
■That? Oh, that’s Miss Chatterton,”
Owen answered, carelessly.
“Do you know her?” 1 asked.
“Oh, yes; she has been at the Park
naming Lord de Longueville’s place—"for
some little time.” , x „
“Then come and Introduce me, like a
good chap,” I said, persuasively.
“Introduce you,” he said, in a demurr
ing tone.
“Oh, but if I do, I shall have to ask her
to dance, and I make a rule of never ask
ing a woman taller than myself to dance—
it makes a fellow look such an ass, you
“You needn’t ask her,” I said, taking
him by the arm, and pulling him along to
wards the part of the room where Mar
ian was standing beside Lady de Longue
vllle. “You van just Introduce me and slip
away while I uni getting some dances from
her.”
Eventually Owen did so, and in less
time than it takes me to write this, I
■was standing in front of her asking very
humbly indeed if I might have the honor
of a dance?
She replied that I might, and added
two magic words, “with pleasure,” in a
way and with a glance which set my
already smouldering heat in a blaze, and,
bo to speak, brought me completely to
her feet in a twinkling. I danced a great
many times with her that evening, and
the next day, having made myself very
agreeable to Lady de Longuevllle, I went
over to tho park and called to inquire If
ihe ladles—meaning Marian—were any
worse tor the exertion the previous even
ing?
That call lasted just six weeks’. No, I
ton’t mean that I stayed six weeks at
Lady do Longuevillc’a house. but for six
phole weeks I was in and out of that
}ld and stately mansion like a dog tn
i fair, and ut the end of that time, en
couraged by Marian’s soft and smiling
itlauces, I summoned up pluck enough to
itsk her if she would marry me?
I was a young fool. I did not know it
them, but 1 have told myself of it many
f'.hd many a time since. Still, as I say, I
1 Jid not know it then, and I put tho all
important question to her with the in
ftenlouß confidence of youth, which knows
iiot the bitterness of rebuff.
And Marian went very red, said she
tad never dreamed of anything like that
liuppening, that she had looked upon me
Auitv as a friend und nothing more, and
that it could not be. 1 asked why, and
the replied that she was already engaged
t<> another man, and that she was to be
married as soon as ho came home from
/ India a few weeks later.
I was only’ a young fool. not quite 19
y< ars old, and the news knocked me all of
a heap. 1 believe that 1 cried. I am sure
that I buried my head on my urms and hid
ms’ face, while she stood beside me and
implored me tor her sake not to give
way, assured ma thul she was not worth
it. and finally said In a queer little voice
that 1 might think a little of her, and
t'int If it was mo bud for me, what did
I think it must be for her?
i remember 1 raised my head at that,
and locked at her eagerly, poor young
Idiot that 1 was. and then she earn-*
a bit closer to me and rested her head
on my shoulder, and whispered that it
was «.• well that* things thou Id be as they
were. (or. of course, there was no de
nying that she was years und years older
than 1 was, und that niy people would
probably have objected, and perhaps I
did not really mean it in downright sober
earnest. I—who would nave gone down
and licked the very dust under her fe <t.
K bv so do!hk I could it&v® ixiwn her th®
vmalhst plea-ure of pmiiflcation. What
It fiih soon over. In vain I ussur®
her that I had never bt>en so serious in
my life, In vain I Uli her that 1 had
no whom 1 need consult, the only
luan, *>» t or iiiy latner
a • • I ■ > ’ , > , » t
ed to n h*r ? *t xne in any w ay. very cirvat- !
to e chin N ewe.
. iV ; GEORGIA.t
( THE MORNING NEWS. XZ e ° ft;
< Established U6O. - - Incorporated 1888. >
I J. H. ESTILL, President. >
since. It was all in vain, however. Ma
rian assured me that she like.d me much
better than the man she was going to
marry ,and to whom she had been en
gaged for three yeafs, but she added,
“When I became engaged to him, I was
just your age, and I thought that I lik-d
him better than any one in all the
world.”
I tried my very best to persuade her
to throw the other fellow over, but she
was not to be moved by any words of
mine. And so we parted, and I have -never
set eyes on her from that day to this.
It is no use my pretending that I have
never thought of her, for I have
thought about her many and many a
time, wondering how’ life had used her,
wondering whether she had really liked
me the best, and if it was really a sense of
honor which had made her stick to the
first man sb utterly as she did. And I
may as well say that years and years ago
I quite made up my mind that Marian
Chatterton had never cared a rap for
me, and that she had only fooled me to
the very top of my bent from an innate
sense of mischief, the born instinct of the
coquette who cannot endure to let an ad
mirer, even if he only be a callow youth
in his teens, slip from her vicinity without
singeing his wings at the shrine of her
beauty and attractiveness. I was a young
fool, and she was a woman.
“How beautiful is youth!
Book of Beginnings, Story without End.”
Some poet fellow wrote that; and he knew
what he was talking about, too.
CHAPTER 11.
I don’t quite know how it was, but
my love affair with Marian Chatterton
satisfied my appetite for that sort of thing
for a long time. I won’t pretend that I be
came a woman-hater or anything of that
kind, nor even that it made me a bit of
a misanthrope. Nothing of the kind.
But I got fond of soldiering—men do, you
know, who stay in the (service long enough
—i was well off, and had never spent my
Income since I first had control of it, and
I must say I had an uncommonly good
time, take it all around. I had never ex
actly regretted my bachelor state, though
I know if I had married Marian I should
have been a good and faithful husband to
ner. But, yoq see, I did not marry Mar
ian, or rather Marian did not, could not,
if you Will, mabry me; and somehow, I
never saw anyone else that I wanted to
marry, and so at eight-and-thirty I found
myself by a train of lucky circumstances
in command of my regiment, and still an
leligible bachelor.
I was not let to forget that I was eligi
ble; oh. dear no. You see I was in com
mand,. I was toU?rably good-looking, I was
non, and I had a very decent soldiering
record behind me—these things all tell
with the women, and perhaps ft is not to
at ’ But * n B P lte of k all » 1
never felt like marrying any of them.
laat weeß that I came up
. erßh °t f° r a few days in town.
«s? r e ?l me ntal dinner was the excuse
“ rst br °ught me, and my own in
clination was the reason which kept me.
I don t know that I ever enjoyed a few
days in town more. You see, Aidershot
lun t exactly a little earthly paradise, and
I hat ?. ? Pretty long spell of it. The
weather Wati fine, too, and hostesses were
giving evening .garden parties, and their
“'K'?®??'’ ‘\® re a ll lighted up with strings
V ttle , ® 1 amps- and the cooks were at
their wits end to think out new and ap
petizing dishes that would bear Icing. Yes,
but in suite of the heat, London certainly
was a pleasant change after Aidershot.
And one night I went to a theater, not
being engaged for dinner, though I was
aue at several evening shows afterwards.
I went to the Lyceum, and was lucky
enough to find a stall near the middle of
the fourth row, and Ellen Terry, looking
her brightest and loveliest as Beatrice, in
Much Ado.” And in the Interval which
elapsed between the first and seconds acts
I looked up idly at the boxes on the first
an . d ,aw rl « ht above me—Marian
Chatterton.
iiAnr*!Si ÜB uo admlt that my heart almost
nW AA-rf 0 AZ mouth, and some mln
before 1 could summon up
? 10 u k afiral P’ * And when 1 dl|, >
tha s Bhe , 'Y aa look,n e at me with
?, n u £l er stranger, and I real
ni „ that if this was indeed Marian
Chatterton, time during the past twenty
years must have stood still. Yet the likc
ness was almost ludicrous. It was so
strong. I watched for a chance when
the lady was not looking my way, and
then I put up my opera-glass and scruti
nized her closely. It was not my Marian
oh, no, but a quiet young girl of not more
than 19 or 20, at most. She. was unlike
Marian, too. in some ways, though so
strikingly Ilk? her on the whole. For in
stance, she struck me as being of slight
ly smaller build, and her ears were of
a different type altogether. Ears are a
very favorite study or mine, and 1 never
mistake an ear when I have once fairly
seen it. And the young lady in the box
had certainly not Marian’s ears.
After the next act I went out, partly
with an idea of finding refreshment suit
able to tho hot night, and partly to sc>
if there was any one that I knew in the
house. 1 found both, for while I was
disposing of the one Jack Villiers came
up and slapped me on the back, saying
“My dear old chap, I haven't seen yda
since we wore at Caubul together ”
You know how men, who have not se»n
each other for a long time, talk. Well
that was how Jack and 1 talked last
night. We asked each other if we were
married, and both of us pooh-pooned the
idea, if we had been old veterans of
40. wedded to our club windows and our
rubber of an evening. And then we had
another drink together, Jor the sake of
old times, and counted up the comrades
who had gone over to the great majority
and then we went hack to our places
and gave our attention to the play again
itn my word. I had almost forgotten
tho girl in the box above, who reminded
me so strangely of Marian Chatterton.
But at the end of the act she came back
to me again, for Villiers took advantage of
my neighbor's going out to come and sit
down beside me, and we took up our con
versation just where we had left off at
the beginning of the last act.
“Any one you know here to-night’” T
ask d. carelessly to him.
“One or two,” he replied. “It’s astonish
ing though now soon u man gets L<gof
ten. They say like a dead mind out of
mind, but one doesn’t need to be dead
be out of mind now-a-days.”
“True,” said I, “but tell me, who do
I you know here?
“There’s a Mrs. Smithers a couple of
rows behfhd us.” he replied in a mysteri
ous whisper. "But as I don’t want to go
and speak to her I have not looked at
her and she has not an idea that I have
ever seen her. And there are some peo
ple I know In a box just above.” jerkins
his head back. ’
I followed the direction of the jerk with
my eyes. “You don’t mean the girl In the
blue frock?” I asked rather breathlessly
“Yest. one of them has a blue dress on ”
he answered, stolidly.
“We been looking at her.” I said, bv
way of excuse for having noticed her at
all. "What is her name’’ ai
"Miss Gordon." he replied.
The name conveyed nothing to me I
had thought It just within the bounds
of possibility that she might prove to be
j Marian’s daughter; but the name of Gor
; don quite knocked that notion on the
head, for she had married u man with a
name like McKenzie. 1 rather fancy it
1 was McKenzie.
"She’s a pretty girl,” said Villiers, in a
deliberate voice. “And a very nice girl,
too. ould you like to know her ’ Be
cause. if you would. I’ll take you up to
i her box with p-ltasure. She Is with ladv
I Cecil Pttlliser, whom I know very well
I rented thf< Invitation with alacrity
■ and wo went up to the box together. There
| he presented me to Lady Cecil, whom 1
could have done very well without know
ing, and to Marian’s ghost, Miss Gordon.
I found the resemblance to my old love
still more striking during the few minutes
that 1 was able to talk to her before the
curtain went up again, and I could have
blessed old Jack right heartily when he
said to her in a half whisper, “I am coming
to call on Mrs. Gordon to-morrow. May I
bring my old friend with me?”
’’Vvhy, surely," she cried delightedly.
“Mother will be enchanted to see you, and
your friend also. But why this sudden cer
emoniousness?”
I did not hear what Jack said in reply,
but as we walked along the corridor to
gether, he remarked, “That is as nice a
little girl as I know.”
“I should quite think so,” I returned. “I
suppose you are not thinking of—”
Jack turned and looked at me. “Thinking
of making up to Phyllis Gordon,” he re
peated. “No, my dear chap, 1 certainly am
not.”
I passed it off as a joke and then we sep
arated, going our different ways. So her
name was Phyllis, was it? And a dear little
sweet sounding name it was: it suited her
down to the ground.
I met Jack Villiers by appointment the
following day: in fact, we lunched to
gether at the Rag, after which we went on
to Green street, where the Gordons lived.
He seemed to be quite at home in the
house, for he greeted the servant, who
opened the door with a friendly, “Well,
Sommons, how does the world use you?”
-Summons replied with a respectful grin,
and took charge of our persons as if we
were something that might get lost in the
journey from the hall door to the drawing
room. And then he opened the door of that
apartment and announced in a loud voice,
“Colonel Villiers and Colonel Starkey.”
What followed almost knocked me into
the middle of next week. For out of the
subdued and churchlike gloom which is
the fashion for London drawing rooms,
there came to meet us my old and first
love, Marian Chatterton. The meeting
was a dreadful shock to me—l may as
well confess it ut once. I knew her again,
of course. It is only in story books that
a man meets an old love after a few
years, and does not know her from
Adam. I should have known her any
where, at least, I think so. But time had
certainly not dealt gently with her, in
fact, time had been to generous alto
gether, for she must have weighed at
least fourteen stones. She met me with
a tender air of recognition, and at once
reverted to our old friendship, without
any attempt at concealment.
“Yes, darling,” she said to Phyllis when
she came across the room, “take Col.
Villers and give him some tea. Col.
Slatkey and 1 are old friends and will
chat a little while together.” Then, as
Phyllis carried Villers off, she turned to
me and said: “Well, and how has the
world used you since last we met?”
"I must confess that I have had more
than my• deserts,” I admitted.
“Ah, yes. I read all the accounts of
your successes,” she murmured in a low
voice. “I felt so proud to think that I
had known you, when I rea'd how you
had won the Victoria Cross.”
“Oh, it was. nothing.” 1 said, with an
uneasy wriggle, for after all, what man
can sn still and calmly hear a woman
talking about 4n incident which, all said
and done, was more or less of an acci
dent? Not I, for one.
“No, no, the Victoria Cross never Is
anything to those who have won it,” she
cried. ‘T quite understand, Charlie.”
She called me Charlie In quite an ordin
ary way, and, somehow’, I did w’ish she
would not be quite so reminiscent or so
friendly. To avoid any further remarks
about myself, I plunged headlong into an
other topic of conversation.
“Youi- daughter is very like you,’ I re
marked. I trt- d hard to say Mrs. Gor
don, bui, toomvbow, the words would not
come, they fairly stuck in my throat.
“Yes, everybody says that Phyl is very
like me. I always say very like what I was
once. You will find me appallingly altered,
don’t you?”
She looked at me in an appealing kind
of way, and I —well, after all, I am only
human, I am only a man, so I murmured
something of a non-committing nature to
the effect that she was a little stouter than
she had been when I had known her be
fore. She smiled and looked down, and I
could have killed myself for being such an
idiot. However, I could not undo what
had been said, and I ventured on another
subject.
“I had no idea that you were here—at
least, I ipean that I had no idea that I
was being brought to see you to-day. I
quite had an. idea that your married name
was McKenzie.”
“So it was,” she replied, “but we had
to take the name of Gordon to inherit
some property.”
“And Mr.—er—Mr Gordon—l hope he is
well?” I asked, rather diffidently.
“Oh, my husband has been dead sev
eral years,” she replied, in a perfectly mat
ter-of-fact tone.
If she had only wept a little or even
lowered her eyes, it would not have been
so bad: but she pretended nothing, and
evidently the demise of the late Mr. Gor
don, if it had ever been a grief to her,
had long since ceased to be a trouble.
Tho situation was really a serious one
for me. And the worst of it all was that
I admired Phyllis more and more with
every minute that went by.
She asked me presently if I would like
a cup of tea, and on my saying yes—for
I- would cheerfully have accepted a cup
of cold poison at that moment if it would
have got me oft that sofa and away from
those terrible reminiscences of the past,
the past which had been all a mistake;
we went across the room together and
stood near the little tea table at which
Phyllis was presiding; and as we stood
there waiting while she poured out our
tea, I caught a glimpse of our present
ments in a long looking glass which
filled the s£ace between two of the win
dows looking into the street below. Was
it possible that Mrs. Gordon was only
three years older than me? That was
what she had said long ago; but to look
at her now. any one might reasonably be
lieve that she was at least a dozen years
my senior. True, I was a young-looking
man for my eight and thirty years, and
she one of the oldest looking' women I had
ever seen for only three years older than
that.
“So you have met Gol. Starkey before,”
said Villiers, in his cheery tones.
Mrs. Gordon sat down on the nearest
seat, taking the cup which Phyllis had
poured out for her. “Yes,” she said,
with a smothered sigh, "we knew each
other ever so long ago. We were quite
boy and girl together. It makes me feel
horribly old to think how long ago.”
So it did me, only I could not very well
say so. Yes, it did make me feel old to
be told that we had been boy and girl
together. 1 could not say anything, be
cause it was absolutely true. We had
been boy and girl, though then she''had
been careful to tell me that she was years
and years my senior. And if that had
been a bit of a stretch, she certainly was
three years older than I was. She had
owned up to three years.
And as we went away from the pretty
house. Villiers dug a facetious Anger into
my ribs, and told me I was a sly dog
and no mistake about it. I could have
kicked Villiers at that moment with- the
greatest of pleasure.
The next day 1 had a note from Mrs.
Gordon, asking me to dine and do a the
ater with them. She added that she had
asked Villiers also, and said that I was
to be sure to let no other engagement
stand in the way of it. 1 went; well, yes,
the fact was I really could not resist the
chance of seeing Phyllis again, although
I knew that the past, and I was afraid
also the present, stood between us, and
that seeing her would not do me the
smallest good, rather the contrary, in
truth. Still. 1 went, ana I saw Phyllis
again, and went away from her at last
with the pleasant knowledge that I was
desperately in love, and that the leaves
of my first love were dead. dead, dead,
and lay full of sadness and melancholy
between my heart and me.
CHAPTER 111.
Somehow, after that little dinner, with
a theater to follow, I got into away of
going to that pretty house in Green street
at all times. 1 knew that It was worse than
foolish, for it was plain to be seen that
the widow had quite mistaken my visits
and believed, ;toor soul, that I went to see
her and for the sake of that old boy and
SAVANNAH, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1895.
girl love affair which had come to such an
untimely ending twenty years befohe. Poor
mistaken soul, I felt such a brute, and
every time that I found myself going down
to Aidershot—generally by the cold meat
train —I made a fixed and firm resolve
which I truly meant to keep, that I would
go no more. And every day when I found
myself free and able to go to Town, so
did my resolves fade away and I found
myself getting out of my paint like light
ning, that I might catch the up-train; and
it invariably happened that in next to no
time, I ended my journey in the becoming
ly shaded drawingroom, which called Mrs.
Gordon mistress. I gave up resolving at
last and submitted to my fate, because it
is a degrading thing for a man to be al
ways making and breaking resolves. So I
determined that I might as well be hang
ed for a sheep as a lamb, though, Heaven
knows, it was the lamb and not the sheep
that I wanted in this instance.
At last, however, the season came quite
to an end, and I had no further excuse for
racing up to Town in season and out of
season, for Mrs. Gordon and Phyllis had
made all their arrangements for going to
Carlbad. I believe she—that is, Mrs. Gor
don—went to Carlsbad in order that she
might get rid of her superfluous fat, and
Phyllis, of course, went because her moth
er went. 1 asked Marian one day if she
was going to Carlsbad for a cure; and she
replied, with a sigh, that she was not
strong, not nearly so strong as she look
ed. I knew what that meant. Fat! dear,
dear, and to think that all those fourteen
stones and that excellent appetite might
have been mine, Irrevocably and irretriev
ably mine, if the events of the past had
taken a different turn. It made me very
grave to contemplate such a possibility.
Having gone so far, I thought I might
as well go up just to see them for the last
time, and to wish them good-bye and God
speed. And after that there would be, of
course, the deluge. I dressed with even
more than usual care and with a grim
thought in my mind of how men in olden
times had dressed with scrupulous exac
titude for the occasion of their execution.
Well, I was in a sense going to execu
tion also, and I had a foolish notion that
I should like Phyllis to remember
me at my best.
Sommons greeted me with a beaming
smile, told me that the ladies were at
home, and took charge of my hat quite
as if he expected me to hang it up there
and then, and for good and all. Then
he showed me into the drawing room
and softly closed the door behind me.
I saw in a moment that Mrs. Gordon
was alone. Phyllis was not there.
“Ah!” she said, looking up with a smile,
"is that you, Charlie?”
“Yes,” I replied, for it was not a re
mark that one could controvert.
"Well, we go off to-morrow,” she re
marked, after a moment’s pause. “And
when shall we see you again?”
I leant forward, resting my elbows on
my knees, steadfastly regarding the tips
of my gloved hands. “I don’t know,” I
replied moodily.
"Is there any chance of your coming to
join us this autumn?” she asked.
“I really don’t think so, Mrs. Gordon,”
I said. I had long'ago, and by a resolute
effort succeeded in calling her so.
“Oh! and this is really good-bye?” she
said, in a queer, cold sort of voice.
“I’m very much afraid so,” I answered,
guardedly.
Mrs. Gordon looked at me impatiently.
“And why should you have any fear about
It?” she asked bluntly.
I felt as if something very dreadful was
going to happen to me. Great heavens!
did she mean to propose to me outright,
and what on earth should I, could I do
under the circumstances? My very blood
seemed to run cold at thought of it.
I could not say and ir,*o»M worse
to say yes, and then marry Marian when
I had given all my heart to Phyllis. Was
ever any man in such a position in this
world before?
“My dear Charlie,” she went on, find
ing that I was dumb, "have you nothing
to say’ to me?”
I pulled myself together by an immense
effort, and looked at her for the first
time. “No, Mrs. Gordon,” I said, firmly,
“I don’t know of anything particular that
I have to say to you.”
She turned and looked at me. “My dear
Charlie,” she cried, “have you taken
leave of your senses, or have I?”
I remained silent for the very good rea
son that I had nothing to say; she went on.
“You have been coming to my house for
months now,” she said quietly, “you have
been everywhere with us, you have at
tached yourself to us, and we are going
away for a long time, and yet you tell
me that you have nothing to say to me.
I confess that I do not understand such
behavior.”
I contrived to stammer out something
very shame-faced about the pleasure I
had taken in her society, but she inter
rupted me brusquely enough. “My dear
soul,” she exclaimed, “what are you talk
ing about?”
"Eh?” said I, looking up in surprise.
She in turn was staring at me, her eyes
full of mirth, her lips parted with laugh
ter, and her whole appearance more like
the Marian Chatterton that I had known
twenty years before than I had seen her
look since we had met again.
“Charlie,” she said, in a voice shaking
with laughter, “you have never married?”
“Never,” I replied promptly and in a
tone which I intended should convey to
her that I did not mean to marry now.
“Do you think you have done kindly by
me, my old friend,” she said, gravely,
"in coming so much to my house if you
had no ideas of the kind? You are a very
handsome man, Charlie, and your V. C.
carries a great amount of glamor with it.
What shall I say to my poor little girl
if—”
What did. she mean? “Your little girl?”
1 cried.
"Yes, Charley Starkey, my little girl,”
she rej>eated. “You are in love with that
same little girl, are you not?”
“I—l simply worship her,” I broke out.
"And you thought that I—l—at my age.
Oh, you foolish creature, have you for
gotten that silly affair of years and years
ago? Why, I was old enough to be your
mother, or if not quite your mother; cer
tainly old enough to make a very’ desir
able mother-in-law.”
What could I do? Well, I just told a
downright thumping lie in the excess of
my joy. “I was afraid you might think
me too old for her,’ ’I said lamely.
“Rubbish!” she returned, then smoth
ered a sigh. “Ah, my dear old friend, you
were young then, you are little more than
j young now; but I, oh, I am old, so old.
AH my life is dead leaves and the sass-
I ness of remembrance. But there, what
|,is the use of saying aught of what is
> past and gone? Charlie, we made a little
love to each other, you and I. How ab
surd! You have found out what love is
now—l found it out fifteen years ago. It
has made me old too soon. What is love?
: Sometimes, everlasting flowers. For me,
Charlie, dead leaves, only dead leaves.”
(The End.
NAVAL LANDING GINS.
On*? Hundred Rapid Fire Guns to Be
Built by the Government.
Washington Oct. 30.—Secretary Herbert
has decided to build one hundred rapid
fire naval landing guns of the Fletcher
pattern at the Washington navy yard.
I This action was taken on the recommen
| dation of Capt. Sampson, chief of the
i bureau of ordnance and against the pro-
I test of the Briggs Ordnance Company.
The ordnance company, in Its protest,
claimed to have distanced its competitors
I in the trial conducted for the purpose of
I selecting a gun and also in prices, it be
ing the lowest bidder. Under these cir
cumstances the company claimed the
contract and appealed from the decis
ion of Capt. Sampson, holding that it was
not the policy of the government to force
contractors into competition with the
government shops. The work on the guns
will be commence as soon as possible,
and it is expected that the guns will be
completed within one year. The guns,
when finished, will be issued to the dif
ferent ships and will furn’sh landing
guns for all the vessels so far author
ized.
CUBANS LOSE A COMMANDER.
GOMEZ TO LEAVE THE ISLAND TO
HAVE HIS WOI NDS CURED.
He Resigns file Command, of the
Forces and Is Taking’ Leave of His
Followers—The Insurgents Ex-
plode a Bomb Under a Train Load
<
ed With Troops —A Large Number
of Cubans Reported Encamiied on
Pine Keys Waiting’ to Go to Cuba,
Havana, Oct. 30.—A dispatch from Puer
to Principe says that it is reported there
that Gen. Maximo Gomez, the commander
in-chief of the insurgents, has resigned
his command and will leave the island
for the purpose of having the wounds in
his legs cured. It is said that he is now
taking leave of his followers prior to de
parting, but his destination is not men
tioned. „
The rebels placed a bomb on the track
of the Nuevitas railroad yesterday, which
exploded while a train loaded with troops
was passing. One soldier was seriously
wounded.
It is announced that the censor will
cease to retain copies of press dispatches
as has been the custom since the out
break of the rebellion.
New York, Oct! 30. —The Cuban delega
tion which was established in this city at
the beginning of the war for the independ
ence of the island has received the official
appointment of Thomas Estreda Raima
as minister plenipotentiary of the republic
of Cuba abroad. The document bears the
date of Oct. 18, 1895, and is signed by all
the members of the Cuban assembly in
Jimaguayu, province of Puerto Principe.
The appointment was made by acclamma
tion. '
Jacksonville, ’ Fla., Oct. 30.—A largely
attended mass meeting was held at Met
ropolitan hall to-night to express sym
pathy for Cuba. There were five hun
dred persons in attendance, comprising
the most prominent business and pro
fessional men of the city. The meeting
was addressed by W. Harding Davis of
St. Joe, Mich., who has been sent out by
a Chicago committee to work up inter
est in the Cuban cause. Mr. Davis made
a fiery speech, urging Americans to do
all they could to aid the Cubans in
throwing off Spain’s yoke. The meeting
adopted resolutions calling on the
United States to grant the Cubans bel
ligerent rights.
Key West, Fla., Oct. 30.—Considerable
excitement is felt in official circles here
over the report that a large number of
Cubans are encamped on Cudjoe Howe
and Pine Keys waiting an opportunity
to go over to Cuba. The revenue cutters
Winona and Morrill nave been sent to
the. above named keys to prevent any
expedition leaving those points.
Nassau, N. P., Oct. 30.—The alleged
American filibusters who were brought
here by the British gunboat Partridge
from Inagua, Bahamas, on Oct. 21 and
arraigned before the British authorities
here on Oct. 23 on the charge of violating
the British foreign enlistment act in using
the British West India islands as a basis
of operations against the Spanish govern
ment in Cuba, were arraigned again this
morning, and the case was furthw ad
journed for eight days. The adjournment
was the result of a protest made by United
States Consul McLain upon the ground
that the colonial government had not ex
ercised due diligence in procuring evidence
against the men. The names of the five
American prisoners who claim, and are
receiving the protection of the United
States consul upon the ground that they
are American citizens, are Antonio M.
Ruiz of New York, Severano Galvez of
Key West, Gerardo M. Domeneck and
Braulio Pena of Philadelphia and Pablo
Menecal of Brooklyn.
Kingston, Jamaica, Oct. 30.—The steam
er Laurada, from New York, Oct. 21, ar
rived here yesterday. She landed a
quantity of anns and ammunition near
Guantanamo, Cuba, and with the muni
tions, twenty men under command of
Carlos Manuel de Cespedes. The men and
arms were landed Sunday night. The
party disembarked In great haste and
some of their guns were left on board
the ship, where they were found by the
customs authorities upon her arrival
here.
BUSINESS OF THE SOUTHERN.
A Satisfactory Showing Made in the
First Annual Report.
New York, Oct. 30.—The first annual
report of the Southern railway printed
in pamphlet form has just been Issued
and from it the following figures are
drawn:
For the year ended June 30, 1895, there
is carried to the credit of profit and loss
account a balance of $895,744. The equip-*
ment trust notes paid during the year were
$416,132, and the outstanding equipment
trust notes amount to $958,590. The sink
ing fund payments on account of equip
ment bonds have been $163,450. The total
expenditures for construction and im
provement, all charged to capital account,
was $373,826. The expenditures for new
equipment, changed to capital account,
amounted to $-174,933. The company has
,no floating debt. During the year 41,01)0
tons of new steel rails were bought. The
amount expended for rails and fastenings
was $532,522, and it is charged to operat
ing expenses. Real estate costing $120,657
was purchased in Atlanta, where it is
proposed to build a union passenger de
pot. The number of tons moved one mile
was 1,098.932,884, an increase of 48,964,131
tons, or 4.66 per cent. The average rate
per ton per mile was .987. The bitumi
nous coal tonnage figures for 29.37 per
cent., lumber ana logs 9.04, merchandise
6.59 and cotton for 5.42 per cent. The num
ber of passengers carried one mile was
178,015,925, an increase of 9,575,763, or 5.68
per cent. The average rate per passenger
per mile was 2.405.
DOCKING SYSTEM DEFUNCT.
A Big Victory for Company Employes
in Tennessee.
Chattanooga, Tenn., Oct. 30.—8 y a chan
cery decision handed down to-day Cross
& Tenny, the government contractors at
Chickamauga Park, must refund to their
employes, some 400 in number, the amount
of doctor's fees and rent money deducted
from their wages, a sum approximating
$6,000. This construction of the iaw makes
it unlawful for an employer to require em
ployes to sustain a physician known as
the "company doctor,” or live in tene
ments owned by an employer, and virtu
ally kills the system of "docking,” which
Is an octopus to the Tennessee working
man even greater than the garnishee
system in vogue in some southern states.
Every mining camp in the south claims
and exercises the right to dock its em
ployes.
MISS KEY MARRIED.
The Bride a Daughter of the ex-
Postmaster General.
Chattanooga. Tenn.. Oct. 30.—Miss
Elizabeth Key. the youngest daughter of
United States Circuit Judge D. M. Key,
retired, was married to-night to Garnett
Andrews. Jr., of this city. Judge Key
was Postmaster General during Presi
dent Hayes’ administration. Presents
came from every part of the United
States. The ceremonies were the most
i brilliant ever witnessd here.
TYLER’S VENGEANCE TERRIBLE.
The Negro Rnvisher Burned ut. the
Stake Before 4,000 Persons.
Tyler, Tex., Oct. 30.—For the second
time in the history Os the Lone Star state
a negro has paid the penalty of his
brutal passion toward a white woman
by being burned at the stake. Henry Hil
liard, the negro who outraged, killed and
horribly mutilated, Mrs. Lenoard Bell,
the nineteen-year-old wife of a prosper
ous farmer, was taken from an officer
by a mob of 300 armed men, and a vote
taken as to the mode of punishment. It
was unanimously decided to burn him
and that he should suffer the penaltiy
pn the public square of Tyler. A pro
cession, estimated at nearly 4,000 per
sons, took up its march for the main
plaza in the center of the city, which
was reached about 4 o’clock. Immense
crowds of women and children congre
gated, and awnings, carriages, trees and
adjacent buildings were converted into
grand stands. At 4:30 o’clock a scaffold
was erected in the center of the square
and wagons laden with kindling wood,
coal oil and straw were driven to the
scene and nlaced in position. The negro
was then given an opportunity to speak,
but his words were inaudible. He was
told to pray. He mumbled some inar
ticulate words first, but toward the close
his voice became stronger And his ap
peals to God for mercy could be plainly
heard several yards away. Af
ter he had finished his
prayer four men stepped forward,
lashed him to the iron rail that extended
through the platform. Mr. Bell, the hus
band of the murdered woman, was in front
ot the scaffold and watched the prepara
tions with eager anticipation. When the
negro had been securely bound to iron
poles, Bell applied a match to the funeral
pyre which had been built and the flames
swept upwards, enveloping the victim in
a sheet of fire. He begged for mercy, but
his appeals were met: by torture and he
was not permitted even to burn at once.
The fire was frequently quenched and af
ter a lapse of a few moments started
again. From the time the match was ap
plied until death ended his sufferings, was
exactly fifty minutes. Bach time the flames
were extinguished it was evident the vic
tim thought his torture was at an end and
he begged to be released, but in answer to
his appeals a man would run forward
and again apply the torch. Whenever this
was done those near the funeral pyre
would cheer. Hundreds of negroes wit
nessed the execution and representative
negroes expressed their indorsement of the
punishment.
The officers were powerless and the
sheriff wined the governor, but his mes
sage was too late. All the business houses
were closed, all the factories suspended
work, and the big Cotton Belt Railway
shops Were deserted.
A SOUTHERN RAILWAY CIRCULAR.
The Road’s Freight Department Re
organized on a New Basis.
Washington, Oct. 30.—The Southern rail
way has issued a circular on the organiza
tion of the freight department to go into
effect on Nov. 1. On the sapae date the
line of road will be divided into nine
traffic divisions, extending from Wash
ington, D. C., through various southern
states to Kentucky. The new are
as follows:
Horace F. Smith, general freight agent,
Washington, D. C.
W. H. Halsey, data agent, Washing
ton, D. C.
James H. Drake, assistant general
freight agent, with offices at Richmond,
Va.
Haiden Miller, assistant general freight
agent, Atlanta. Ga.
Edwin Fitzgerald, assistant general
agent, Louisville, Ky.
J. B. Munson, division freight agent,
Raleigh, N. C.
A. G. Craig, division freight agent,
Charlotte, N. C.
D. C. Cardwell, division freight agent,
Columbia, S. C.
J. Gothard, division freight agent,
Knoxville, Tenn.
L. Green, division freight agent, Birm
ingham, Ala.
Ray Knight, division freight agent, Sel
ma, Ala.
The offices of division freight agent at
Atlanta, Ga., and at Louisville, Ky., are
abolished.
J. J. Griffin, general agent, Jacksonville,
Fla.; Henry S. Jackson, general agent at
Chattanooga, Tenn., and J. Edmunds Ma
son, soliciting agent at Danville, Va., are
transferred to Washington, D. C.
The Alabama Great Southern Railroad
Company, which is controlled by the
Southern Railway Company, will be con
ducted as a separate road with the fol
lowing officers from Nov. 1:
W. H. Green, general superintendent,
Washington, D. C.
W. A. Vaughan, assistant general su
perintendent, Chattanooga, Tenn.
C. H. Hudson, chief engineer, Washing
ton, D. C.
R. D. Wade, superintendent of motive
power, Washington, D. C.
H. C. Ansley, treasurer (vice H. H. Ta
tem, resigned), Washington, D. C.
George S. Hobbs, auditor (vice Charles
H. Davis, controller, resigned), Washing
ton, D. C.
A MAN BLOWN TO PIECES.
The AVinchester Arms Company’s
Work* the Scene of the Explosion.
New Haven, Conn., Oct. 30.—William
Lextion, employed in the fulminate mix,
ture department of Winchester Repeating
Arms Company, was blown to pieces and
instantly killed this orning by an explo
sion. He had been at work but five min
utes when the accident occurred. The
shock of the explosion was felt through
out the part of the city where it occurred.
The roof of the building in w-hich Lextion
was working was torn away. This is the
second fatal explosion in this department
in four months, Lextion succeeding Jere
miah Splain, who was blown to pieces in
a similar explosion in June.
ROOSTER OF THE DEMOCRACY.
Judge Bench's Decision Upheld by
the Supreme Court.
New York, Oct. 30.—The general term of
the supreme court has handed down an
opinion affirming Judge Beach’s decision
in the matter of the state democracy roos
ter. It holds that the state democratic
ticket is not to be printed under the roos
ter and also that the other nominations
be considered as independent nominations
and to be placed in the last column.
North Carolina’* Insurance Cases.
Raleigh, N. C.. Oct. 30.—Gov. Carr has
ordered a special term of the Jones county
superior court to begin Dec. 9 for the trial
of the graveyard insurance cases which
were transferred to that county from Car
teret county. Gov. Carr is informed that
at least ten days will be required to try
all of the case§.
The Fire on the Bendo Extinguished.
Bremen, Oct. 30.—The fire in the cargo
of the British steamship, Bendo, which
arrived here from Savannah, Ga., Oct. 25,
and whose cargo was discovered to be
on fire while discharging on Oct. 29, has
been extinguished. The goods stowed in
the forehold were damaged.
Bargeol* to Form a Ministry.
Paris, Oct. 30.—M. Burgeois has ac
cepted the invitation of the president to
form a ministry, and will at once endeavor
to bring together an acceptable cabinet.
{WEEKLY 2-TIMES-A-WEEK JI A YEAR 1
5 CENTS A COPY. t
DAILY, JlO A YEAR. f
(MONDAYS
I —AND
(THURSDAYS
MRS. PITEZEL ON THE STAND.
HOLMES ROBBED HER AFTER MUR
DERING HER FAMILY.
After Her Hnsbnnd’s Disappearance
Holmes Told Her He Was in Hid
ing: so Site Could Get the InMurunee
on His Life—By Sharp Practice He
Extorted From Her All But WSOO of
the $11,700 Insurance Money—Jfevef
Saw Her Daughters or Son Alive
Again After They Went Away
With Holmes.
Philadelphia, Oct. 30.—Branded though
he is as a liar, swindler and murderer,
the picture drawn to-day of Holmes’
cold-hearted viliiany by Mrs. Pitezel, the
widow of the man for whose murder he is
being tried, presents him in even a more
revolting character than he has yet stood
revealed.
Whatever sympathy might have been
excited by Holmes’ friendless and forlorn
condition, wag effectually killed in the
breasts of all in the court room who heard
Mrs. Pitezel’s story. She was placed upon
the witness stand to-day and for three
hours this afternoon and one hour to
night she was subjected to an ordeal that
no woman in her condition had even been
called upon to face. Her story furnished
the first really sensational feature that
has yet been brought out. The whole
scene and the events of the afternoon
were intensely dramatic, Mrs. Pitezel
and Holmes have never been brought
face to face until to-day since the dread
ful revelations of her children’s murders
have come out.
When a woman, bent and feeble, was as
sisted into the witness box there was a
craning of necks in the court room, for it
was at once surmised that this was Mrs.
Pitezel. Whether Holmes had schooled
himself to face her, or whether the man
really lacks sensibility, it was impossible
to say, but as the woman stood erecf be
fore him he exhibited no emotion of any
kind, but on the contrary gazed fixedly at
her for fully a minute. As the woman came
into the full light of the court room she
plainly showed that she had borne a bur
den of sorrows, troubles that have proven
too heavy for her.
Her skin was sallow and her face was
heavy and lifeless. Above her sunken
cheeks her lack-lustre eyes stared stead
ily in front of her with a meaningless gaze.
She more resembled a woman under the
influence of some strong drug that had
dulled her senses, rather than one that is
in full possession of her faculties. She
sank into a chair and crouched there like
an animal that stands in fear of the lash.
She was so weak that throughout; the giv
ing of her testimony the cOur't officers
stood by her side and repeated aloud her
whispered replies to the questions asked
her. Only once throughout the day and
evening did she look in Holmes’ direction.
At the beginning of her testimony she was
asked if she knew the prisoner.
She cast one hurried glance In ’his
direction and then auic.kly averting her
eyes replied that she did. It was a damn
ing story of duplicity and knavery that
she related to the court. She was led
somewhat hurriedly over the events prior
to Pitezel’s death. Then, she told of
Holmes coming to her and telling her
that her husband still lived, but was in
hiding for his connection with the swin
dle of the Insurance company. How ha
persuaded her to send her daughter Alice
to Identify the supposed body of her
father, and returning to her home in St.
Louis extorted from her by sharp prac
tices all but SSOO of the $9,700 she received
in payment of her husband’s insurance
policy. She also told of the persuasions
he used to secure possession of two of
her other children whom he took away
with him. It was from this period that
Holmes’ cruel practices began. Yearning
for a sight of her husband and children,
Holmes led her from city to city with
the illusive hope before her that she
would soon meet her loved ones. So
thoroughly was she under his Influence
that she gave him her letters to post to
her husband and children and while hex
heart was breaking for word from her lit
tel ones, he was carrying around in hi#
pocket letters from them to her.
Aftr the death of the children., Holmes
carried bis deception so far as to bring
to her a letter written in cipher and
purporting to be from one of her little
girls. He also worked this strategem in
a letter alleging to be from her husband.
Never once did he give her a hint that
she would probably never see her hus
band again, and he constantly told her,
that her children were well and happy.
Throughout this long recital, Mrs.
Pietzel had borne up with fortitude, but
when Mr. Granam (asked her if she ever
saw the children after she gave them
into Holmes change she gave way and
sobbed quietly, but bitterly, before she
could answer. Not a whisper was heard
in the court room as the woman raised
her head and. In a broken voice, replied:
“I never .saw my two little girls again
until I sAw them lying side by side in
the morgue at Toronto, and I never saw
Howard again, but was only shown some
’ things that belonged to him In Indianap
olis.
Mrs. Pitezel’s testimony was most dam
aging to Holmes and the cross examina
tion by the counsel for the defense in
no way served to help him. With the
advent of his counsel into the case to
day the current which was bearing
Holmes swiftly away when he was alone,
was slightly stemmed. Althought his
two attorney’s have as yet decided up
on no definite line of defense, they were
better able to take advantage of tech
nicalities that arose. Holmes himself
was of great assistance to them, and
suggested most of the questions that
were asked the witnesses.
The commonwealth to-day had its wit
nesses upon the stand to prove the con
spiracy to swindle the insurance compan
ny, and tne consequent motive for the
killing of Pitezel. When court adjourned
to-night the prosecution had not offered
all the testimony of this character and
will have several witnesses to swear to
these circumstances in the morning.
The prosecution claims to have con
vincing evidence to convict Holmes, and
the district attorney and his assistant
are satisfied that they will easily prove
their casfe.
The defense will ask of the court to
morrow for a continuance for half a day
or so in order to enable them to prepare
their case.
A SCHOONER GOES ASHORE.
The Crew of Eight Men Rescued by
the Life Saving Station Men.
Cape Charles, Va., Oct. 30.—The schoon
er Carrie L. Godfrey of' Philadelphia,'
loaded with phosphate rock from Charles
ton, S. C., bound for Wilmington, Del.,
went ashore on Maehipongo shoals, near
the Paramores beach life saving station,
about 3 o’clock this morning. The crew
of eight men were all saved by the lite
saving crew. The vessel and cargo will
probably prove a total loss.
STABBED IN THE STOMACH.
A Woman Kills Her Lover After a
Quarrel With Him.
Memphis, Tenn., Oct. 33.—800 k Thomas
was stabbed to death this morning by Lucy
Hogan seven miles from the city. Thomas
and the woman were lovers. They quar
reled and the woman armed with a shot
gun and butcher knife ran after Thomas.
She drew the gun and when he rushed in
sh£ dropped the guxi and slabbed him in
the stomach.
NO. 83.