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Iqtimes ■■■ 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.