Newspaper Page Text
10
|Now First Published.]
THE WHITE GIPSY,
A TALE OF MINES AND MTNERS,
By J. MONK FOSTER,
Author of “A Pit Brow Latftie,” "Slitres of Kate,” ‘’A Miner’s Million,” "Que#o of
the Factory,” "A Crimson Fortune,” ** Pits ion's Aftermath,” Etc.
(COPYRIGHTED 18CJ
SYKOPBIB OF PREVIOUS OR AFTER S
PpotoorK. Chapters 1. to lll.—Sir Nicho
las Carsland.. a wealthy ml ie owner, who
has made a fortune, th u<h he commenc'd
life in the pir, has two sons half brothers, one.
the elder. Frederick, a calculating schemer, the
other. Sydney, a pleasure I vin£ Bohemian
The latter lives away from homo in nleasureaole
Idleness, while the former assists his father in
his business. Svdnev appeals to his father
to help him in his difficulties, hut he refuses
and hg returns home. He hero learns that his
brother is about to raarri <1 to Miss Wood
cock, to whom Sydney ha*i formerly paid his
addresses, but had been rei*ct**d. 1 1 * s father
aays he shall present her with the jewels that
formerly belonged to Sydney's mother, but the
latter resolves that this shall not he the case,
and abstracts them anl steals out into the
darkness of night.
CHAPTER IV.
Iff THE WOOD OK HOUGH.
Midnight had passed an hour or more and
the earth was enveloped in the dark-
Less and dreamy silence of an autumn night.
warm mist floated over the country side,
hiding the stars from mundane eyes and
making things below vague and indistinct,
and not a breath of wind stirred the trees in
Hough wood.
Th© wood lay about three miles to the
west of Carsland hall, away beyond the
great sweep of the swelling npland previ
ously mentioned, and here it was that
Sydney elected to hide himself for the night
after his successful plundering of tbe safe.
He wa* lying now in the heart of the
wood, his couch a thick bed of tall bracken,
his pillow the stout handbag of leather
which contained the stolen jewels.
Tbe spot he had chosen was an open space
surrounded by a thick growth of trees and
bushes, and the wide patch of fern among
which he lay was so dense and luxuriant
that oo one could see him half a dozen yards
away.
As he lay there be pondered on many
thine*, tile chief thoughts wore connected,
of course, with hie own theft. When the
safe was forced opeD, the jewels, bank notes,
and cash, and himself missing, what course
could bis father pursue?
Would Sir Nicholas set tho hounds of the
law upon his track? He had no doubt his
brother would urge his father to place the
matter in the hands of detectives, but he
felt almost certain that the baronet would
decline to take that course. He calculated
that his father would neither attempt to
follow nor arrest him. Rather thau face
the terrible scandal the publication of his
theft would create, ho would prefer to lose
the jewels and permit him to get clear
away.
And assuming that ho was to be per
mitted to osoape scot free, what line of life
and action was be to fellow in the future!
Was be to drift back to his old haunts, old
acquaintances, old pleasures and old vices'
Hi* blood pulsed through his veins at that
thought, and pleasant visions arose before
his mental gaze. It would be worth much
to go tack to the old Bohemians and the old
reckless Bohemian existence, anew man
with thousands of pounds at bis command.
He would be ahlo to repay with interest
those who had stood by him in the days of
his adversity—would be able also to give
hack scorn for scorn, insult for insult,
stones in lieu of bread to those curs who
had refused to c hecr and aid him when his
soul was torn ami his spirit broken in the
blackest days of his degradation and pov
erty.
It was a pleasant picture, and be dwelt
upon it for a space with keen feelings of
enjoyment. But he was not a fool, what
ever else be might bo. Full well be knew
what it would mean—what it would cost
him— to gratify hit desires Id that respect.
Once back in the old cha unel the current
would prove strouc enough to carry him
along with it as before and oscape would be
possible only w hen he was stranded high
and dry—penniless, hopeless, irretrievably
wrecked.
No! He must prove strone enough to re
sist that. The old past was dead and
buried. The future must be something dif
ferent.
Where should he go—America or Austra
lia! In either continent tne fates might
prove kind and bless him with success.
AVhat he already possessed might prove the
making of a great fortune, and some day
he might come hack to bis hirthlanu a ricn
and powerful—even an honored member of
■ooiety.
Now that he forced himself to think
calmly and dispassionately. he considerel
that the offense of which he had been guilty
was of a venial kind. Who had a stronger
claim, morally, to bis dead mother’s jewelrv
thau he had' No one, be cried. He bad
felt for years that Frederic had resented his
father’s second marriage, and hod ha ed
himself. It would have been little less than
sacrilege, therefore, to havo permitted his
half-brother's wife to wear the buried
woman’s trinketry.
He was glad now that he had taken them
away. They were bis, and he had got them.
How terribly disappointed Frederic Cars
land and Miss Adelaide Woodcock would be
when they learned that the precious stones
bad disappeared, and divined who had ap
propriated them. Ho felt sorry that he
could uot be present to witness their c. asrin
and pain. How furious his ugly faced Italf
brother would be! How sirenuouslv he
would urge Sir Nicholas to place the matter
in the hands of tho police, and how utterly
crushed and disconcerted would he his con
dition when he discovered that the i aror.et
loved his missing son moie thau the missing
gems!
What wqb that?
Sydney Carslana’s heart gave a great
b Hind, and he sprang to his knees wiln bis
band on his hag. He had beard the hreak
ing.of twigs under foot, os if someone was
about iu the wood and near at hand. Had
imagined also that he had caught the
faintest echo of human voices.
His eyes swept the open space about him,
and his auditive powers were strained to
their utmost. The mist had cleared away
somewhat, and now tht his sight had
accustomed itself to the semi-darkness he
could see fairly well.
He watched and listened and -soon his
fears were verified. Here and there, nm ng
the trees aud bushefc, the forms of men
could be discerned, and now and again a
word was waited to his ears.
Who were they! he asked himself with a
sinking heart. Had the theft been discov
ered already. and net e these men running
him to earth? It looked as if it were so,
for, whichever way he turned, the shadowy
figures were to be seen. There must (e a
dozen men at least, aud on all sides his
biding place was guarded.
Throwing himself breast downward
among the bracken, with the precious port
manteau gripped iu one band, be burrowed
a path suake-like through the sheltering
feru, working his way toward the edge of
the clearing stealthily. and almost as noise
lessly, as Borne frigbteud animal of the
wood might have done.
Nearer and nearer the edge of the braoken
be crept, and soon be was lying within the
shadow of the trees. The men wore roving
about still as be could see and bear. Not a
dozen paoes from him a pair of dark forms
were squatting on the sparse grass.
W bat was ha to dp! Creep forward still,
or rise to bit feet and inaks a burst for
safety.
He decided on the former pis a, stole for
ward on all fours, 'went Sprawling in a
rabbit hole, heard a cry of alarm from
several throats, Jumped to bis feet to make
a ruth for tt, aud found himself iu tbs arms
, by the Author.i
of a pair of brawny man. There wa* an
outcry, a chorus of oath*, a short desperate
struggle, and the 1 a heavy stick crushed
dowu on Sydney Carsland’* head, and he
fell senseless and bleeding on tbe grass.
In a moment a dozen men were around
him. all excited and curious.
“Who is he? A lob or tbe keeper? Shine
a light, Zack, let’s see who he is?”
A pair of bulls’ eye lamps were flashed on
the unconscious man’s face, and then ex
clamations of wonder fell from the throats
of all present.
“It’s a gentleman, not a lob!” "A regular
swell, too!” “What's he bin doin'here?”
“Wonder who he is!"
These queries were cut short by tbe ring
leader of a gang of poacherß, a powerfully
built fellow with a biaok beard. He had
knocked Sydney down and was now on his
knees with his Angers in the senseless man’s
pocket.
“Shut up that row or you’ll have all the
lobs on top o' us. Shine that light this way
and lot’s see what he’s ge'.ten in his pockets."
"I know him!" cried one of the younger
men of tbe gang, bending over the pruetrate
form. “Don’t rob him, Hulllck. It’s the
young son of Sir Nicholas Carsland, S’
Carsland ha’. Leave him alone, Hulllck.
Ah durmo’ mahnd a bit o’ poachlu’, but we
owt to stop at that.”
"Thee shut up, Dick Miller, or I'll shut
thy mouth for thee!” the leader growled.
“In for a penny in for a pound’s my mottv.
Hello, look here, lads! Bank notes, yellow
boy* and silver. Collar that bag of bis and
some on yo’gather the baggage. We’ro in
for surnmat better nor game this neet, my
hearties.”
Five minutes later the poachers bad de
parted, aud tbe robbed thief was lying
prone and unconscious on the sward where
Mike Hullick had felled him.
CHAPTER V.
SLEEPING OUT.
Morning had just broken in tbe east and
the skies were still dy6d with roseate pig
ments. Tbe birds were piping merrily in
tbe branches of the russet leaved trees; the
barking of dogs, the caokling of hens and
crowing of cooks were to be heard in the
farm yard over the meadows; among tbe
ooruflelds the reai>era were hard at work.
Asleep among the rank grass which grew
by a hedgerow a tramp lay, and that be was
no ordinary vagrant any reasonable being
could see at a glance. His garments were
fashionably cut, well made, aud of tbe best
materials, and although they were dusty
and otherwise travel-stained it was easy to
see that the man who wore them was no
wandering knight of the footpath.
But if his oloihes impressed one favorably
bis face did so more powerfully still. It was
tbe face of a man between 31 and 26; a
handsome, finely cut face, highly intelligent
—even distinguished in appearance. Who.
ever the wayfarer might be it was evident
that be bad sunk down there dead beat
and glad to find repose anywhere. His
features were pale now, he looked ill, and
he seemed to experlenoe great difiloulty in
breathing.
Fifty yards away stood a little white
washed cottage. In front of the dwelling
was a patch of ground filled with flowers of
different sorts: over the trellis work at tbe
porch ivy clustered, and trained alongside
tbs diamond paued windows was a fruitful
white rove tree, which In theoourse of yeats
had spread over half the wall and roof.
Behind the cottage there was a kitchen gar
den well stocked wi:h vegetables, aud be
yond the cultivated patch miles of forest
aud moor land.
Out of the cottage a lass of something
under 2d came tripping, a light tlu pail In
her hand and a powerful dog of the mastiff
kind walking at her side.
Neither the girl herself nor ber attire
seemed typical of the country. Her
brightly colored skirt and the silken ker
chief bound about ber bead had a foreign
look, and ber dark, handsome face re
minded oue of warmer climes. She ap
peared as much out of harmony with that
quiet corner of Erglish rural life as the
tine clothes on the l ack of the sleeping way
farer.
The lass was making her way to the well
qulto unconscious of the contiguity of the
tramp, whom she was just then passing,
when the dog sprang suddenly from her
side and darted upon the sleeper, thrusting
bis wet, cold muz.zel into his face. Then
she saw him, and fearing the dog might use
his teeth she cried:
“Lome away, Leo!”
She had scarcely spoken ere Sydney Cars
land—for it was he—struggled to a sitting
position, aud seeing ber tiiere exclaimed in
a voice that wa) both weak und hoarse
through privation and exposure.
"Where am I? Give me a drink, for
God's sakel lam choking—dying!”
She ian to the well with ber pail, aud in
a minute was back at his side holding to
his lips the vessel, from which he drank
greedily. Then he thanked her. tried to
struggle to his feet, but fell sprawling on
the grass, and lay there in a state of semi
consciousness.
With a little cry of alarm she bent over
him and assayed to lift bis head. But she
saw thut he was really ill, saw that his bar
was matted with blood, and the led stains
on his collar aud aeokund bis colorless face
frightened I er.
Bidding the dog remain at the frame's
side, she darted homeward, disappeared in
the cottage, and reappeared a few moments
liter, accompanied by an old yet still pow
erful and foreign-looking man, who was
evidently the girl’s father.
Reaching Sydney's side, the cottager ex
amined the prostrate man for a moment,
spoke to him. but received no response; then
be carried him in his arras to the cottage.
The adventures of Sydney Carsland since
the night he had been knocked down in
Hough wood aod robbed of his ili-gotten
treasure by the poachers may be related in
a few words.
When he recovered from the senseless
state into which Hullick’s heavy stick had
Jkuocfced him, the short nutumu night was
passing away and tbe day was breaking.
When he recalled the incidents of the past
night,and found tbe handbag containing the
jewels missing and his pockets rifled, it wa9
csy for him to realize the whole of tbe af
fair.
The men who had frightened him must
have been poachers, as their cries of “a
lob" testified, aud they had appropriated the
treasure he had been at such pains to
aunex.
Boon ns he bad pulled himself together
and tidied himself up a bit, be struck out
northward, selecting the qu.etest aud least
frequented paths. Fear of the law and bis
relations’ fury was then strong witbra him,
and he felt that there wss no feeiing of se
curity for him until he bad placed miles
find miles between himself and Carsland
hall.
Ail through the fine autumn rooming he
strode along the country lanes, avoiding
the hamlets when possible, and scurrying
through the villages, when he could find no
other wav, without a word or a glance at
tbe rustics he encountered. Noonday had
seen aim still hurrying on, and when night
came be was twenty miles from Tborrell
Moor--was footsore and famished, and at
war with the world and all God’s creatures.
lu the rank grass under the hedge cot far
from the pretty hamlet of Marloombe, on
the o-uiflne# of Vorksbire.be had thrown
himself with tired body and troubled mind,
ai.d there on tbe following morning tbe
handsome and picturesque ootlage girl aud
her dog had found him.
Wbeu Sydney Carsland next came to bia
'ousts he found himself lying in a comfort
able bed, with abundant vvidaucae of neat
ness and comfort around him, although the
THE MORNING NEWS: SUNDAY, JANUARY 15, 1893---TWELVE PAGES.
chamber was low roofed and small—-uoh as
rested able working people inhabit.
He was almost too weak to move, and
while he was wondering where he was eel
how ha had drifted thither be caught the
sound of a light foot, and the next moment
a vision of enthralling beauty appeared in
the doorway. Where bad he seen those
great masses of jet bIaCK hair, those large
flashing black eyes, red lips, perfectly
mulde.i features and rich, warmly dark
complexion before?
Then he suddenly remembered the dog
that bad aroused nitn as he lay under the
hedge, aud its handsome mistress who had
given him a drink of cool, refreshing water.
In a voioe, whose strangeness surprised
himself, he cried;
“Where am I? bow long have 1 teen
here! ’
"This is my father’s house, sir,” she re
plied in English, which seemed strangely at
variance with ber dark, foreign looking
face. Then she added as she walked de
murely into tbe chamber: “Y'ou have been
here since yesterday morning. Do you not
remember? I gave you a drink and then
you faiuted and my father carried you into
the cottage. ”
“Have I been III?”
“Very ill indeed!” she answered, her
black eyes fixed upon him. with warmest
sympathy burning in their depths, “The
doctor said it wa brain fever—you were
delirious for a long time. But lam glad to
see that you are better now. Is there any
thing I can get for you?”
“1 am thirsty—l should like a drink.”
She gave him a glassful of some cooling
drink, and then turned to leave the room.
“Stay. Do not go yet. I have much to
say—to ask you."
She seated herself and be went on.
“What an ungrateful bound you must
think me. Miss ” he paused, and his
•Hence was pointed as a question.
“Velazo,” she said quietly. "My father’s
name is Pedro Velaao; mine is Salome."
“You are not English then?”
“No. Spanish, sir.”
“Well, I think it was exceedingly kind of
you and your father to take in and tend a
poor broken down fellow like me, and I
thank you very much. Some day—who
knows what may happen?—l may be able
to repay your goodness with something
more substantial than empty words. Where
is your father. Miss Velazo?”
“In the woods. He will return about
noon and then he will come to yon."
“What la tbe name of the village over
therer
“Marlcombe."
“Is there a town near here?"
“Clitheroe is the nearest town, and it is
five miles away.”
“ Who was the doctor who attendod me?’
“Dr. Frith. He was passing in his dog
cart and my father called him in."
“Did he say anything?”
“He said you were very seriously U 1 and
would require great care. ”
“I mean did he say anything about me—
not my illness."
“He said that you were evidently a gen
tleman, and he wondered a good deal as to
whom you were and where you came from.
I beard them talking.” she added, as if to
make an excuse for her knowledge.
“I suppose Dr. Frith would wonder also
wbat I was doing under a hedge!" be cried
a trifle bitterly. “I will explain all that to
your father when 1 see him—if be cares to
know anything about me.”
“I will go now, sir," the girl said, as she
arose aud made toward tbe door. “If you
want anything I can hear you call.”
"A moment. Miss Velazo. I had forgot
ten for the moment that I am still unknown
to you. My name is Sydney Barringhatn.”
“Thank you, Mr, Barrlngham," and with
a smile she was gone.
The father of tbe dusky maiden put in an
appearance at noonday, and hearing from
the girl that their uninvited guest was bet
ter he went to him forthwith. The old mau
seemed to be as kindly uatured as his obiid,
and in his peculiar English, marked atlll by
a strong foreign accent, he expressed his
delight on finding that Sy duey was greatly
Improved.
They chatted for a time and Sydney put
a few questions to his host, similar lu
almost evary respect to those he bad ad
dressed to Salome Velazo. He half ex
pected that the brawny and dark son of
Spain would put tome awkward inquiries
to him, but In this he was mistaken, Pedro
Velazo was a reticent man,' who seldom
spoke, and he seemed content to leave hit
guest to speak of himself or be silent.
Sydney preferred to say little of himself
at that moment, and all the information
pertaining to himself that he vouchsafed
was that he had been benighted; aud that
hie name was Sydney Barriugham.
Dr. Frith looked in during tbe afternoon
and from him the ailing man learned that
he might expect to be out of bed aud about
again in a week or eo—if no relapse took
plaoe, Sydney told hie n odical man no
more than be had told Pedro and Salome
Vela* > respecting himself. He knew from
the doctor'* manner and words that his po
sition there was a matter of wonderment,
but ho was not fool enough to take him into
his confidence.
There is uo occasion to tell in detail the
story of Sydney’s recovery. Each day saw
him grow stronger, aud soon he was able to
quit his bed, sit in tbe cottage, or walk
about the small garden
During his illness and the early days of
bis convalescence, he and handsome
Salome Velazo were often thrown together.
The girl had ever attended to bis needs aud
wishes with a tenderness and eagerness
that had surprised the patient as much as
they had delighted him; aud seeing how
deeply interested she was in bitn, hie own
interest in and admiration of Salome scon
ripened into passionate affection.
That his love was returned Sydnev felt
certain, and one morning, when Pedro
Velazo was away in the adjoining woods,
be took the unresisting damsel in his arms,
pouied his tale of passion into her enrs, and
received sweet assurance of her own love
for him.
After going so far he knew that more
would be. expected from him. Of himself
and his history and connection his host and
sweetheart knew nothing, save the vague
bints and the name it bad pleassd him to
call himself by.
Sydney loved Salome sufficiently to de
sire to possess her, and that was only to be
accomplished by marriage. And would the
old Spaniard consent to his daugater’s
unfcm with one of whom he knew nothing?
The outcast resolved to concoot soma
story that would account for tbe plight in
which he was found that morning now
nearly a fortnight ago. If he left the cot
tage where was he to direct hit feat’ How
was he to live? He dared not face his
father and brother- had no desire to leave
Salome Velazo!* side. If be meant to re
deem himself—to work his redemption,
where could he find a better place than this
comer of Yorkshire in which to commence
the work? He would speak to his host.
That evening Pedro Velazo and Sydney
1 found themselves together in tbe garden.
On a rustic seat beneath a great-branched,
leafy elm they were seated, srpoking tbeir
pipes and engaged m a conversation which
as yet had turned ou casual matters. All
along Sydney lmd desired to spoak on a
subject with which his mind was filled,
and suddenly he led up to it by remark
ing:
“l daresay, Velazo, that you have often
wondered who and what I am, and how I
came to be under tbe hedge in tbe lane
there.”
Tue old man nodded in reply.
“ Well, I have made up my mind to tell
you. 1 had thought of going away and
saving nothing more than 1 have already
told you; but that would have seemed
strange, so unthankful and graceless after
yonr great kindness to me."
“Do not apeak now, air," the old man
said, speaking slowly, and with tbe man
ner of one who bad a difficulty in finding
bis words, “unless you wish to speak "
“I do wish to tell you, and I will. I come
of a good family, one that is both honor
able and wealthy. All my life I have been
a wild fellow, foud of knocking about and
seeing the world. My parents were very
religious, aod my ways did not suit them.
They had pampered me all my life, end let
roe have my own way in everything, and
wbeu they wanted me to turn anew leaf
over, settle dowu, aud marry ao old woman
I detested, I kicked against it and left borne.
You uodersland me?”
“I understand yon." ;
“And I swore uevervtogo baok home until
1 was sent for. Rather than go l>aok and
marry that hateful woman I would work
my fingers to the bone—die in the work
house. If I could only get work of some
kind 1 would settle down here and attempt
to repay vou ai.d your daughter for your
kindness.”
“What kind of work?” Velazo asked,
with a grim smile on hia boarded face.
“Any sort—at least any sort tnat a—a
respectable man mi;ht do!”
"I heard-that bis lordship wanted an
underkeeper. Lord Marlcombe I mean.
Would you take that place;”
“Gladly.”
’ ’Then I will speak to Symons, the head
keeper, about J*.”
l here was silence of some moments'
length, and then Sydney said:
"I thought of speaking to you about
Salome."
“Wbat of her?”
“I love her -she returns my love—lf I
were to settle down I might repay you for
all you have done for me.”
“You love—would marry Salome?”
Pedro Velazo exclaimed, and his long, lean,
brown fingers tugged nervously at his
beard.
"If I had the chance—if you think me
good enough—under present circumstances
—for her.”
"If Salome wishes it, 1 have nothing to
say against it.”
“Then it is agreed. 1 shall do my best
for you and her. Some day, when I and
my family are reconciled, you will perhaps
be proud of the man your daughter’s good
ness and beauty and your own generosity
have won.”
“I am satisfied,” was Velazo’s sole re
joinder.
On tbe following morning the lovers were
seated on the bench under the elm, and
were whispering soft words to each other.
They were engaged now and the wedding
day was fixed. After a little breach in their
eon versatioa Sydney said:
“it appear* such a strange thing, Salome,
that you and your father, who are pure
Spaniards, should be settled down here in a
quiet humdrum English country place. Tell
me how it came about, dear.”
“Has father never told you?”
“Not a syllable—ln fact, I did not care to
ask him, and he never is very talkative,
you know.”
"It is a rather uncommon story,” Salome
returned, as she leaned back and nestled
•gainst her lover’s shoulder, "audit you
wish to hear it there is no reason why I
should not tell it to you. I, of course, never
saw Spain. I was born in the cottage there
and consider myself in every way an En
glish woman.”
“Never an English woman possessed such
eyes and hsir and cheeks as your,” he cried
with a fond caress. “But go On.”
“ Well, to tell the truth, my father was
one of a gipsy band who knocked about the
country between Valladolid and Madrid.
He has told me the story of his own life
many times, and I shall never forget it. In
the course of Ms wanderings he met ray
mother, who was a peasant in the village of
(limed i, and fell in love with her. They met
frequently whilst my-fatber's people were
in the neighborhood of Dltnsdo; avowed
their love of eaoh other, and when circum
■tanoes parted them swore to be faithful to
each other unto death. ..
“When my father next, appeared in tbe
village, nearly a year later, he found that
bis sweetheart had disappeared—had gone
to far away England.”
“To England?”
“Yes. It seems an Englishman and his
wife—Lord Marlcombe and the countess
were spending their honeymoon in Spain.
While passing through tbe village the lady
wao thrown from her horse and severely in
jured. For laok of a better pjace she was
carried into the nearest cottage which
chanced to be that my mother’s parents
lived in. For many day* the lady bad to
remain in the cottage, as her injuries were
of suoh a nature as to render her removal
dangerous; and during heFillness my mother
waited upon the countess, who became very
fond of her.
“When she recovered she urged my
mother to accompany her to England, of
fering her high wagss and other things
which the poor peasant girl was unable to
resist.”
“So she went to England—came here to
Marlcombe,” he broke in, “and left your
father disconsolate.”
“Not quite,” she replied, with a little
musical ripple of laughter. “She left a few
words behind saying that she loved him
still, would return soon—hafi, in taot, only
gone away in order to save money which
would enable them to marry and begin
married life in comfort."
"And your father was not satisfied with
those promises, Salome? He followed her
to England?” -
“Yes, and found hU love at Marlcombe
hall, over there among the trees, acting as
the countess’ maid. He went boldly to the
house and demanded to see his sweetheart.
Thou my mother had to explain and in the
end tny father was takein into his lordship’s
service. Afterward they tfiarried and came
to live here. My mother died when I was
only a child and since then-my father and I
have lived alone."
“Quite a romance,” hh said, as she fin
ished.
“Not more romantic,” she answered,
“than our own love story. What could be
stranger than our meeting 1 -Only fancy me
finding you that morning by the roadside,
your illness afterward and being carried
cere!” i
“V r?, it is nil very strange," he responded
gravely, his; thouguta flyi g aero s coun
try to Larslaael bail. “Life,” be added, as
he stroke ! her raven hair, “D full of strange
things. S the time, Hear Salome, some
thing stranger still may happen to us. Who
knows?” He loved her very much then,
and be was thinking of tbe joy she and her
fattier would experience when they learned
that his father was Sir Nicholas Carsland,
the wealthy owner of coal mines in Lanca
shire. Someday he would bo able to reveal
the whole truth to the trusting father and
loving girl. .
A week later the man who called himself
Sydney Barriugham started work oa Lord
Marlcomb’e estate as a sort of under keeper,
and two cr three weeks after that the hand
some Englishman and the beautiful Spa ish
girl were married. Pedro Velazo insisted
that the cottage was large enough for them
all, and there the newly wedded lovers
settled down to their new life.
The autumn had worn itself away and
winter was now come. In the woods the
trees stood out iu the frosty air ragged and
bleak, and underfoot the dried leaves lay
thick. In three weeks more Christmas
would arrive, already the rustics of Marl
combe were making preparation for the
coming .of that festive season.
Sydney Barriugham felt happier and
better in every way than be bad done for
years. Hia beautiful wife adored him, his
life was pleasant euougb, and all the old
vicious cravings had died down. He was
at last working out his redemption in a
quiet and manly fashion.
Since his coming to Marlcombe, Sydney
had never failed to read the newspapers
with a careful eve. expecting—fearing at
first—to see therein somo referenoe to bis
own disappearance and the theft of the
jewels.
But that which ha sought so diligently
never met bis gaze; and as tbe weeks sped by
he was forced to conclude that his father
aud brother—although they had hidden his
crime in the depths of their breasts—bad
oast him off forever as obo who had sinned
and fallen beyond redemption.
One evening a great surprise—a terrible
shock—came to him. He was having a
glass of beer iu the tavern farther up the
lane when his gaze happened to fall on
that day’s paper, which lay on tbe table.
Taking it up indifferently, be coat h©ye
over tbe columns and suddenly saw "iue
tbiug which caused bis heart to fly to hit
moutb. ’ -i
There In big, staring headlines, he read:
“SHOCKING CARRIAGE ACCIDENT.
"a BARONET ANIMUS SON BILLED.
“An accident of a terrible character oc
curred yesterday iu tbe vicinity of Tborrell
Moor in Lancashire. Mir Nicholaa Carsland
aod his boo Frodsrio war# out driving iu a
baroucre when the horse took fright, col
lided viole tly with a wall, throwing out
the baronet and nis fi 11, both of hem were
picked up dead, Sir Nicholas is wall known
in the neighborhood, as be owned extensive
mines there, aod bis sudden death is gen
erally deplored. The death of his son,
Frederic, is all tbe more lamentable as he
was to have heea married in the course of
a few weeks."
The room flew round like a teetotum, and
Sydney fell back on bis sear.
[to be continued.]
medical!
“ WORTH A GUINEA A BOX.
(Tasteless-Effectual.!
FOR ALL
BILIOUS and NERVOUS
DISORDERS,
Such as Sick Headache,
Weak Stomach,
Impaired Digestion,
Constipation,
Liver Complaint,
and Female Ailments.
Covered with a Tasteless & Soluble Coating. ;
Of all druggists. Price 25 cents a box.
New \ ork Depot. Canal St.
CURE^^L^N
AND
BLDDD DISEASES.
frayticlaus rndofM P. T. P. plnild oombloatloo,
•nd preterit* it with great aatUfactinn for tbe cart* of all
,fg£g>L-tgt_of_ Primary, E—npda~y tnd TtrtUry
' R aP,
Cures scrofulA.
cypailit, ftyphlliil* RhcnnAiUm.
aiandnUr ftwdHmfi, RhaamatUm, Malaria, old
Chronic Uicrt that hara mUttd all traatmaat, Catarrh,
F.P.P. ISoi
curial Polton, Tottar, Scala etc., ate.
F- P. la a powerful ♦p’nk-, an eactllenl appettaaf,
r IP-
Cures rheumatism
build In* up the •yTu^nTpi^iT^^^
Ladies whose sjttent are 'poiionad and whoit blood la (a
an Impure condtt on, dne to meoitnM irregularities, ere
DDDW CURES
I# £ I. Malaria
pi*u|mely Deuel; ted tj tiin wonderful tome and blood*"
cleansing properties or P. P. P., Prickly Asa, Poke Root
and Pot*tailin'.
'Cui^sd'yspepsiA
<
LIPPMAN BEOS., Proprietors,
Druggists, Lippman’3 Block, BAVAKSABjQA,
LIPPMAN’S CHILL 4 FEVER TONIC
Is a Sure Cure for
CHILLS & FEVER,
Dumb Ague and Malaria.
I-Catablishod. Thirty Years.
Physicians are prescribing Lippman’s
Chill and Fever Tonic daily with the most
wonderful results.
UPPIM BROTHERS, Props.,
Savannah, <>a.
CONSUMPTION
SURELY CURED.
To the Editor- Please, inform yottr read
ers that I hqve a positive remedy for th<
above named disease. By its timely us,
thousands of hopeless cases have been per.
manently cured. I shall be glad to sene
two bottles of toy remedy' free to any of you]
readers who have consumption if they tvil.
tend me their express and post office address.
T. A. Slocum, M.C., IS3 Pearl St., New York.
DR. H. CLARY'S REMEDY FOR
ASTHMA, NEURALGIA,
and NERVOUS Headache,
By mhaliDß th* •rook* of tho burnine Powders ba
cording tA tuii difitfction pnoiose<i in each r*ck*re
met an relief te obtained, speedy cure iriiarflEteeri*
E founts n .K.krs.3oNOnWiri!i^TTt'
STEAMBOAT LINK*.
for darien Irons wTcsfand inter
MEDIATE POINIi
Steamer "BEELEVIEW ”
Leaving Savannah. Tuesdays and Fridays at
So'clock p m. Re'urning Leaving Brunswick
Wednesdays and Saturdays at 1 r. s. leaving
Darien Wednesdays and baturdayn at 6 j>. M.
Arrive at Savannah Thursdays and Sundays at
7i.it For any information apply to
W. T. liIBSON, Manager,
Ktnel s Wnarf,
BEAUFORT AND PORT ROYAL, S. C.
STEAMER ALPHA, H. A Strobhar.
Will leave every Tuesday and Thursday at 11
o'clock a. M.. returning every Wednesday and
Friday. No freight received after 10:80 a. m. on
sailing rtave. Will touch at BlufTton on Tues
day and Friday
Special trips to BlufTton every Sunday at 10
a. m.. returning, leave BlufTton at it it Mon
day. „
For further information, apply to
O. H. MU)LUCK, Agent. Katie's Wharf.
Charles r. prender()asi ~
to & EL Footman <t Oo.,)
FIRE, MARINE AND STORM INSURANCE
106 BAY STREET.
fNezt Wast of the Cotton Exciianrc.l
Telephone call No. 34. Eavowiah, Q*.
I?AILROVD>.
Florida Central and Peninsular RailroacL
FLORIDA THINK LINE SHORT LINE TO TAMPA—TI ’F CARD IN FFFKcr .I.\?r J/gm
GOING So? HI -tEA U no*-*/ “GOING N ntTH—KtAI) OA *—
tjS&l ~ , CALLAHAN i
dally ex! fs the Point to Change DT
ceptium. Going South. cept.-uu.
800 pm 189 pm 6:21 *’n Lv... Savannah .. Ar 6:32pm 12:01 n'p!l2 35 u't
7:20 pm ll:lsamLv Callahan Ar 3:00 pm 7:loam,
900 cm 8:55 pro 11:05am Lv Jacksonville Ar 2:80 pm 6.30 am! 438 pm
1110 am 12:23 n’t 2:23 pm! Ar Hawthorne Lv 11:51 am 2:52 am 222 pm
19 11 pm I 3:31 pm Ar Silver Springs.Lv j lan prn
1259 pm 2:l9am 3:44 pm;Ar Ocala Lv 10:14 am I:l2am 1241 pm
152 pm 3:25 am 4:4opm Ar. Wildwood .Lv 9:loam 11:30pm!ll 55 am
250 pm 4:66 am 6.4SpmAr Lacooehee ... Lv B:o4am 9:58 am 10 51 am
305 pm 6:lsam WOOpmAr... Dade City. Lv 7:46am 9:36 pmilO 36 am
387 pm 6:3oam 6-sJpm,Ar Plant City ..Lv: 4:Jam SaOpmi 945 am
445 pin 7:50 am! 7:50 pm’Ar Tampa Lv s:3pam! 7:10pm 1 900 am
fcc 3:45am 4:40 pm |l.v. Wildwood. Artll:4oam 11:15 pm It 40 am
a 5:20 am 5:40 pm Ar .Tavares Lv ;i0 4n am 7:50 pm 10 45 am
6:25 am 6:Sopm Ar Apopka Lv 1 9:50 am 615 pm! uSO am
7* ** 7:loam 7:lopm/4r Orlando Lvf9:lsam 3.15 pmj 915 am
1 • .3r -* ! 1 1
OJ OJ 5:40 am 6:sspm|Lv Lacooehee Ar 7:82 am 9:35 am (Ti
a 7:sßam 9:10 pm ar Tarpon Springs.Lv 7:lßpro’ - r—i
3 5T 1 8:15 am 9-25 pm! Ar Sutherland Lv 7:03 pm <
~ 9:32 am 10:40 pm Ar .St. Pec raburg.Lv 645 pm ~
*9:00 am *5:05 pm! Ar. ..Dunnellon .. Lv *8:25 am *4.Sspm (f)
CO *6:36 pmj Ar.. .Homosassa. Lv; *7:10 am 73
1 i .
i l Ar—Gainesville.. .Lv 1 1 1:15am 3' p*
(. - - 6:20 pa|Ar. Cedar Key.. Lv; 7:45am ... JQ
SAVANNAH and fernandina! “ “ '
ICCIJJ9 0 003 in par j y -3 j <n|p Tq ppM tpufljj
ycog a| tjnioil |[ doj oc!)B)s jsjedw) eq] n ttqajprj
♦Daily except Sunday. t Meals. ’.Sundays only.
Solid trains Callahan to Tampa and Orlando. Close connection at Tampa with So Fla. R n
for Port Tampa Kay West and Havana Close connection at Owensboro with So. Fla R R
Lakeland and Hartow. Close connection at Tavares with J„ T. and K. w. Ry. for Sanford and
Titusville. Pullman Buffet sleeping cars on night trains. Through short line Jacksonville to New
Orleans, Jacksonville to Thomasville, Montgomery and Cincinnati. Tickets sold and bagga-e
checked through to all points in the United States, Canada and Mexico, Send for best mao 7>f
Florida published, and for ary information desired, to * '
EAST COAST LINE
SOWS. ———-
Nos. 15*63 No. 27 (No*. 71*61 —STATIONS- Noe. M a 62j • No! 78”posTToTs
* 8 10pm *l2 40 pm * 8 00am Lv Jacksonville .... Ar •625 pm *l2 30 pm *915 am
*920 pm *lsopml• 920 am Ar I ILv *SOO pm *:j 30 am *BIO am
412 45pm *2OO pm t 925 am Lv [ / Ar! tl2 25 pm ! *ll 25 am t 520 pm
t 1 18pm * 215 pm tlO 02ara Lv Hastings Lv: til 62am j *lO 48am i t 4 39pm
t 135 pm *3OO pm tlO 25 am Lv. . East I’alatka ...Lv tjl 35 am *lO 25 am ; t 420 pm
t 1 25 pm See train 65 tlO 45 am Ar iLv til 15am it 4 00pm
See train 51 Ses train 45 Ar l jUv See train 48 Bee tram 54
See train 52: !Lv i•• ••=“0 Mateo.... , Ar jSee train4s|Sea train 53
* 3 87 pm Lv. Neoga Lv ! * (1 38 am !
* 4 48 pm Lv Ormond... L: * 8 38 am
i * 5 13pm ! ;...ILv Davtona Lv , * 8 13am
* 5 40 pm Ar New Smyrna ... Lv * 7 35 am
Oak Hill
Titusville | This rqad is under construction
.City Point. between New Smyrna aud Rock-
Cocoa 'Udee.
Rockledge
The Cincinnati and St. Augustine special leaves Jacksonville at 12:30; arrives Bt Augustine!
1:40 p. m. Returning, leave* St. Augustine at 2:20 p, m.; arrives at Jacksonville at 3:35 p. m. daily.
TRAINS BkTWfcteN Ka/TPALaTK A AN DPaLVTKA '
No. 65 | No. 63 | No. 61 ] j No. 62 ] No. 64 j No. 68'
t 310 pm t i S'l pm +!0 25 am Lv East Palatka Ar til 34 am !t420 pm +240 pm
t 330 pm: t 155 pm tip 43am Ar Palatka .....Lv ’ll 15 am jt 4 0.1 pro t 220 pm
LOCAL TRAINS BETWEEN EAST PALATKA AND SAN MATEO,
j No. 53 No. 5t I No. 45 | No. 46 No. 52 jNoS4 j
: + 4 20pm + 3 10pm:*10 27 am LvK.Pal'tka Ar,tlo 10am +245 pm t 4 10 pm
■ ■ I* 435pmt3 25 pm 1 10 42 am, ArSa i Mat'oLv t9s3am * 2 aOpmr 355 pm
♦Daily. ’Daily/except Sunday/
’ CONNECTIONS. ,
At JACKSONA ILLE with the S., F. and W. R’y, F. C. and P. R’y and Clyde Steamship 1,1 ne.
At PAL.ATKA with the G. S. and F. R'y, J.. T. and K. AV, R'v and Florida Southern railroad,
W. L. CRAWFORD, Gon. Supt.' JOSEPH RICHARDSON, Gen. Passenger Agent.
JACKSONVILLETtaMPA and KEY WB§T R’YOO.,
MASON YOUNG, Receiver,
TIME TABLE IN EFFECT JAX. 1. 1993,
STATIONS. - - '
No. 15. | No. 27. No. 71. No. 14. No. ?B No. 66.
* 8 15pm *l2 30pm 1 t 8 50am Lv Jacksonville Ar * 6 30am * 1 15pm t 6 00pm
* 9 34pm * 1 21pm! t 9 51am Ar Ureen Cove Springs Lv * 5 2flam +l2 Mom + 4 54pm
*io44pm * 2 09pm tlO 45am Ar Palatka .Lv * 4 25am *ll 10am * 400 pm
*l2 03am * 312 pm tI2CO mAr Seville I,v. * A Gians * 9 49am * 2 44pm
*l2 41am * 340 pm *l2 89pm!Ar DeLeon Springs Lv * 2 23am * 9 10am * 2 07pm
* 4Sopm t 1 15pm ! Ar I n,...* 1 D > 8 10am t 1 20om
* 325 pm *l2 35pm Lv > üßt * no iAr ... * 9 Isam * 2 05pm
* 4 06pm * 112 pm Ar Orange City Junction Lv * 1 49am * 8 35am * 1 38pm
+ 4 42pm * 1 38pm Ar Enterprise Lv t 755 am * 1 07pm
.. -..,./+ 7 00pm * 3 10 pm Ar Titusville Lv t 5 20am *ll :!satn
* 205 am * 4 40pm t 200 pm Ar Sanford. Lv * 1 15era * 7 .',sam *l2 50pm
t 6 50pm Ar..... Tavares Lv t 530 am
j* 345 pm *l2 21pm!Ar Hawthorne... Lv 4 9 43am * 234 pm
* 4 35pm tl2opm!Ari Gainesville I. Lv + 8 00am 139 pm
* 6 00pm * 223 pm Ar Ocala Lv t 7 50am *l2 85pm
$ 9 00pm + 5 25pm Ar Pembertuu Lv * 9 lOom
* 9 50pm jt 6 20pm; Ar Brooksville Lv j * 813 am
* 345 am * 5 52pm t 4 02pm Ar...... Orlando .Lv *ll:opm'+ 6 40am
* 4 30am • 6 22pm t 5 15pm Ar Kissimmee Lv *ll 00pmIt 5 Siam!
* 7 45am* 8 55pm Ar.. Tampa Lv* 8 00pm 1 . .......
* 8 25am* 240 pm Ar Port Tampa Lv * 7 20pm 1 ....' .
t 7 10am Lv. .. Bartow Lv!* 533 pm I. ......
tlOOOam !Ar Arcadia Lvjt 2 35pm/ ...
" ‘Daily tDaily except Sunday. only. ’ ’
Trains 27 and 14 carrv through Pullman Buffet Sleepers daily between New York and Port
Tampa, connecting at Port Tampa Mondays, Thursdays and Saturdays for Key West and Havana.
Nos. 15 and 14 carry through Pullman sleeping cars between Cincinnati and Tampa.
Noe. 71 an 1 66 carry through Pullman Parlor cars between Jacksonville and Titusville.
INDIAN RIVER aTE AM It H* are appointed to leave Titusville as follows: For Ruckled re,
Melbourne and wav landings daily, except Sunday, at 5.30 a. m. For Jupiter and points on Laks
Worth, Mondays and Tnursdays, at 7:30 p m.
J. N STROBHAR, Gen. Pass. Agent, Jacksonville, Fla
W B. DENHAM, Acting General Superintendent.
MIN ER YITaV A TER^
LIVINGSTONS PHARMACY.
Chest and Lung Protectors.
Chest and Lung Protectors.
LIVINGSTON’S PHARMACY.
Telephone 293. Bull and Congress.
MACH INERT, CASTINGS. ETC.
<T> i JOHN ROURKE & SON.^Mfc
NOVELTY IRON WORKS,
vS™J!n!!!®IRON AND BRASS FOUNDERS AND
MACHINISTS, BLACKSMITHS AND BOILERMAKERS.
THE SAMSON SUGAR MILLS AND PANS.
DEALERS IN
STEAM ENGINES, INJECTORS STEAM AND WATER FITTINGS
CORRESPONDENCE SOLICITED—ESTIMATES GIVEN.
Not. a, -A. and 9 Bay and 1. S, 3. 4. 9 and 9 Rivar Straata.
S A V A X T* AH. A.
Children Cry for Pitcher’e Caetoria*
J.. St. A. &I.R. Railway,
TIME TABLE IN EFFECT
JANUARY 2, ’93.
Callahan isthe transfci tlalicn for al! points fnScuth
jFlorida reached bythe F CM and to connections