Newspaper Page Text
THE
0[ MIR CUFFS.
An Autobiography.
By’RhettBTVlimood,
Author of ‘Nobody's Wife,' Mar
- - ■ 'The mute Spec
The
riage Bond,' 'Ethel lire erne," 'The White Spectre
'Sweetheart and Wife,’ ‘The Chilton Estate,
Wronged lleiresst’ etc., etc.
CHAPTER XXI.
TJE DARK mUR.
Nobo'lv came nigb me nDtil the next day.
H >w I rasRed the Iodb hours of silence and
dirtiness, it wonld he vain for me to attempt to
tell Worts are too weak to depic' the tortnres
I endured before the gloomy, never-ending
night wore away. , ,
It was Rose who brought up my breakfast
She pusned thetrsy inside the doer, paused an
ids'ant to thrust in her head with a grin, and a
fi -rce gleam of triumph in her eyes as she stare f
fix-dlv at me fora moment—then closed and
locked the door again.
I could see that the girl hated me. I know
now she was jealous because R'cbard V nn had
paid me some attentions: and I think no other
mortal can be half so malignant, so utterly cru
el and merciless as a jealous woman who has no
firmly rooted principles to restrain her passion.
Clearly, there was nothing to be gained by an
appeal to Rose.
Susan kept away from my room—whether
from choice cr io obedience to the commands
of her superiors. I had no means of judging.
The hardest part of my burden at this period,
was the uncertainty that enveloped the futes of
of Lottie and Tressy. That they had been
removed from Cedarcliffs was certain. But
whether Mrs. Vann had told the truth or a
falsehood when she declared they bal been ta
ken to a hoarding-school, was still a question
in my mind.
If ihey had been harmed, I felt T should never
know another peaceful moment. They had been
consigned to my care, as a second charge, by
one I now mourned as dead. I had promised to
shield them, to guard them from all ill. And
how had T kept that sacred vow?
You will say I was uo* to blame for what had
happened. Possibly! But might I not have
w itched more faithfully, more diligently? I had
seen we were in a den of wolves. Surely I
ought to have protected the two wee lambs of
the fl ick, with my eyes so opened to the dan
gers that surrounded us!
1 felt as if I had broken my word with the
dead. Over and over 8gain I recalled that
in the library when Col. Eanshawe had spoken
of the children with such deep agitation. They
say that some men, when near to death, have a
her. But I do not fancy having • her blood on
my own bands.’
‘Let her alone,' said Mrs Vann. ‘The danger
is over. Dr. Stanley will not come again.’
She drew a deep breath of relief.
‘Come, Louise; come Louise,’ she added,
and walked out of the room without looking
at me again.
Making a tremendous efi >rt to conquer that
momentary faintness, I sprang up and rushed
to the door, only to have it closed and locked
in my face. I beat upon it like a madwoman.
I prayed. I implored them to comeback, to let
me out, to give me my fr.-edom. I ravid, ex
postulated, and poured out a torrent of protes
tations and promises. And at last when all
these failed, I began to threaten.
Threats, prayers, -entreaties, promises, were
alike in vein; nobody ever took the trouble to
reply to them. The door remained obstinately
closed.
D sisting at last from mere exhaustion, I tot
tered to the window. It commanded only a
small portion of the grounds— my loom was at
t le rear of the house. I could see no living be
ing—nought but the waving gress, the amphi
theatre of trees, the skimming sheet of light
that was the sea.
I had often admired this very view; but now,
how lonely all things were, how desolate and
Ged-forsaken it appeared to my aching eyes! —
Nr hope, no comtor: could be drawn from such
a prospect.
Pushing up the sash, I thrust my head over
the sill. As I did so, there came a low ominous
growl from below. Looking down, I saw a fe
rocious bloodhound chained directly beneath
the windov. He lifted his head, growled a sec
ond tin e, and fixed upon me his bloodshotten
eyes that had a wolfish glare in them, and
snarled viciously.
No need to ask why he was there! My sink
ing heart told me at once the purpose he was to
serve. With such a sentine' on guard, escape
from the window, had I been foolhardy enough
to attempt anything of the sort, was entirely out
of the ques'ion.
I closed the window and sat down. A great
wave of despair seemed to surge up from some
hidden gulf of woe, and overwhelm my very
soul.
There is little need to describe the nays that
immediately followed. They were all alike,
wretched beyond the power of words to express
I saw nobody save Rosa. She brought my
meals to me regu.arly, but never under any pre
text whatever, addressed a word to me.
What was going on in the house, right about
me, I could only guees. Sometimes the mur
mur of voices rtaohed my ears, but for the most
part it seemed a silent as the tomb. And yeti
knew that nobody had gone away
For what were they waiting?-for of course
they could not intend to live that way very
long. Did they expect me to droop and die in
the dreary room of which I was an enforced in
mate? or had their calculations failed in some
degree, and thus compelled them to linger till
things were made right again?.
For succor I had ceased io hope. Susan had
deserted me—at least I thought so -and Dr
Stanley had been put upon the wrong s lent
1 Who else in the wide world would have a
clearer vis : on than their fellow-mortals Per
haps even then, he had seen the shadow of this
great trouble, and worked to secure, in me, a
nrotecv.r for the dear innocents at this V6ry
time of need.
GoodgGod, how woefully I bad failed them!
And here I was, imprisoned and helpless, un-
■ certain what had become of them, unable to
move a step in their behalf! Such impotence
was agony unendurable!
This enervating train of thought was broken
up in a manner wholly unexpected. Soon after
midday, I was seated in an easy-chair by the
pine woods.arjc^fiuat dreamily down thaj^hal
^t'an's'Kawe and Louis’ Remington.
All three weTe pale and looked starngely ex
cited. I arose in some perturbation.
‘What means this intrusion? I demanded.—
‘Though a pri°oner here, my private apartment
should besac ed fr in unw-lcome visitors.’
Nobody answered me. I saw Mrs. Fanshawe
glance once in my direc.ioa, as if afraid or
ashamed to meet my eye fully, and then she
bent her head to list n. Her face was quite
pale, except for two scarlet spots on her cheeks.
A moment of deep silence followed, which
was broken by a sharp peal at the door bell,
that seemed to echo like thunder through the
honse.
Significant glances were exchanged by the
three intruders, and they all turned and looked
at me, though still keeping near the door. Ter
ror and perplexity had written lines upon all
their faces.
The next moment Mrs. Hulks glide* past the
open dro - , and descended the stairs. The bolts
were shot sharply back, and we heard her ask
in a cold, collected voice:
‘Wbat’s wanted? Why do you come here, if I
mav be so bold as to ask?'
‘Where is your master? I wish to see Colonel
Fanshawe.’
It was D.\ Stanley’s voice! I knew it instant
ly He had bipjsuspicions that all was not as it
should be, perhaps, and he had come to prove
or disprove them.
I started impulsively forward, a lo» eager cry
upon my lips. As I did so, Louis Remington
and Mrs. Yann caught hold ot me, one on either
side and the former held his hand firmly over
my m >uth.
•Silence! he hissed. ‘Be quiet, little fool, cr
I swear I'll strangle you!
I had to be quiet. I could not move or speak.
I was almost s iffocated.
A‘the same lime, Mrs. Hulks’ reply came to
Dr. Stanley’s imperious question.
‘My master isn’t here. You can’t see him.’
‘Where is he?’
‘In New York. I thought he sent you word
he was going.’
‘He did.’
•Then why come troubling a poor old woman
like me? You can see tor yourself that the
house is closed, and nobody here to receive
thought to spare for an insignificant mortal as
mys -lf, even though she disappeared utterly as
a brownie in some fairy-story?
To be sure there was the dear little mother,
who loved me as her own life, But she was
watching and waiting and dreaming of mein
the cunning ‘wren’s house’ so far away, utterly
unsuspicious of danger. Weeks would elapse
before sue would feel the need cf looking me
up. By that time I might bo beyond the reach
of helper —
The thought was too terrible to follow out. I
put it from me.
•nus, i
ar , j 't».e girl, 8 face gave me new life. I
spra, r j,o the doorthe instant sheopened it and
lifted my hands in wild appeal.
•Sasan,’ I cried, ‘I thought you were my
friend? Have you, too, goneover io the enemy?
If not, pity me and save me from this living
death?'
She Icoked at me an instant, trembling all
over; then quickly averted her face.
‘Don’t begin to palaver with me miss,’she
said, in a cold hard voic c . ‘I know when I am
well off and I ain’t going to get into trouble
again for sympathizing with you. So you might
as well be cool, miss, and take this as quietly
as you can.’
She slammed the door in my face and retired
Several hours later, the key turned in the
lock, and Mrs. Yann entered. She came slowly
up to me, her rich robes trailing along the
floor with a noise like the hiss of a serpent.
‘Well. Marian,’ she said, with a sneer, ,how
do you like solitary confinement by this time?'
Her presence there, more still, her cool, exas
perating tones, goaded me into a sort of f ury.
I rose up and confronted her darkly, with a hot,
angry longing to meet ana measure my strength
with hers.
‘Yhu wicked old wretch,' I exolaimed, ‘why
do you keep me here? Speak, for I will know.’
‘I thought we had already discussed that sub
ject until it was clear to you.’
‘It is not clear to me. You are hiding some
reason behind these you have admitted. You
are afraid of me, madam! I saw it the first
night I spent at Cedarclifih. Io what way have
I or mine ever crossed your path?
I had expected to see her moved by my words;
but the extreme pallor that swept over her face
filled me with amazement.
‘What do you mean? she hissed, with fl imein
her fierce eyes.
CHAPTER XXII.
“COME, HASTE TO THE WEDDING.
you.
After a minute’s silence, Dr. Stanley said:
‘Waere are the other members of Col. Fan-
shawa's family?'
‘They left, yesterday, to join my master in
the city.’
,And Miss Palgrave?’
'She accompanied them.’
Oh, wi’h what spontaneous readiness lies
seemed to spring to the wicked woman's lips.
‘I believe her friends live in New York.’
’Who is in the house?
'Only one of the men servants, aid myself.
Is that all you wish to,know, sir?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. G rod-day, sir.’
The door closed sharply. The bolts were
slipped into their sockets and Mrs. Hulks came
gliding up stairs again.
A portion of this time I had been struggling
to free mvself. In vain. I was powerless as a
child in Louis Remington's grasp. I f.aght
mvself weak and breathless, and the sense of
suflfocition increased until all things swam con
fusedly before my eyes.
‘Take care!' I heard Mrs. Fanshawe say, like
one speaking in a dream, ‘You are strangling
her.’
Mr. Remington released his grasp, pushed me
violently toward the oouoh, crying with a deri
sive laugh:
‘What do you mean?’ she repeated, seeing I
did not reply at once.
‘P.ecisely what I say, Mrs. Yann. It has oc
curred to me more than once, that you must
have done me or mine s >me bitter wrong, long
ago. I don’t know how, when, or why. But
the feeling is there all the same. Perhaps you
can account for it —I cannot.’
‘It comes of your stupid folly,’ she answered,
with a snee;r ‘and has no foundation save in
your diseased mind.’
‘You need not tell me that.’
‘Well, if you will not believe me. you must
fillow out your own bent,’ she said, angrily.
‘Much good it is likely to do you.’
•Yon will not tell me what I wish to know ?’
There was a moment’s hesitation, and then
she replied:
•No ! If any such thing as you imagine exist
ed at all, I should not be so silly as to tell you
of it. But you can think whatever you please.
Let it pass. I eame to talk of something else.
This is your wedding-day. Did you know it?’
‘I looked at her io pale surprise.
‘My wedding day ?'
Tes. You are to be married to-night. We
have made all the arrangements, even to send
ing away my maid. R >se Y-r’o me, who, for cer
tain reasons of her owa, might have given us
trouble.’
I stil stood staring at her b’ankly. For the
moment her words had no meaning for my ears.
‘Little fool,’ she said, giving me a poke, ‘why
are you so silent ? Are you not glad to be mar-
riel?’
‘I am not going to be married. I don’t know
what you mean.’
‘Ba‘ I say you are. Have ready your wed-
i’hat would be the easiest way to get rid of din 8 finery. There must be no delay when the
proper moment comes.’
‘Perhaps,’ said I ‘since this matter is of so
muoh moment to myself, you will kin-'ly tell me
who is the expec‘»nt bridegroom ?
‘A* if you didn’c know! Who should it be
but Dick ?
I drew back a little, but, by a brave effort, re
tained my self-possession.
‘I shall never marry Richard Yann, I would
rather die!’
‘Humph !" She glared at me quite wolfiihly.
and hissed her own words between close-shut
teeth. ‘Don’t think this marriage is my doings;
I would rather see you a corpse at my feet than
my son’s wife. But Richard is a fool—he will
not listen to reasen—he thinks he loves yon.
B ,h ! ‘I must yield to his f dly, no matter how
bitter a pill he forces me to swallow.’
‘I do not see the necessity of yielding. I dis
like your son, and the thought of this marriage
is odious to me.’
‘You had better not oppose it,’she said, fierce
ly. ‘It is your only chance for freedom Be
sides. Dick is h indsome, and not a bal fell >w.
Y >u ( u ;ht to be pleased with yoargoo 1 fortune,’
•But I am not D!e»8>d.’
‘No matter. Tae marriage must take place,
a’l the sam\ Y ju have beoom- 1 a dangerous
pets mage, Marian Palgrave. You know too
much! Yon can leave this house alive onlv as
my son’s wife. We have too much at stak6. Y >u
would ruin us.' 5 '
‘Can I not take a solemn oath never to reveal
anything I have discovered here?'
She pause 1 to wipe the cold drops of mois‘-
nre from her forehead.
•Even then it wou d not bo safe to let you go
Perhaps I had bet er be frank with you, after
all. There is a secret in which your family aDd
mine are mixed up. The secret, did you know
it would put a fearful amount of power in your
hands; and. lest you should discover it by acci
dent, it is best you should marry Dick. Once
his wife. I should not fear subsequent discov
eries. You would scaroely betray your own hnF-
band.’
•You little know me, if you think that,’ I said,
with compressed lips. ‘Force this uncongenial
marriage upon me, and I swear I will hang him,
if I can possibly compass such an end !'
‘What a devj} you are! But I’m willing to
risk the hangar jj S the least of two evils. Means
can be foupd io restrain you if you are trouble
some. I wish you were in a straight jacket, at
tbii moment. Bnt then, I never was particu
larly fond of you. You have meddled in my af
fairs too ofte i for that ’
‘So,’ said I, looking her straight in the eye,
‘you bear malfSbbeeanse I baulked your attempt
to poison your daughter’s husband—do you?’
A livid pallor swept over her face, giving place
instantly to a look of fury that altered it almost
beyond recognition.
•Curse you ! she shrieked, quite beside her
self. ‘Your tongue is too free ! This brazen
audacity shall bA taken out of you, miss ! Mark
that!’
So saying, she moved slowly towards the door,
with an expression of sullen defiance in her eyes,
and left me.
Slowly the Hours of that awful day wore on
Night fell, atSlast, and more tortnresome hours
went by, and at length there was a sudden bus
tle in the house, and Mrs. Vann made her ap
pearance, a second time, at my door.
Now she was suave, smooth, smiling. Nit a
trace of the agitation in which she bad left me,
could be found in her placid features.
What!’ she exolaimed, glancing at my dress,
which was the same I had wora through the day,
have you not begun your toilet?'
‘I have no toilet to make,’ I answered.
•Bat the pries^ is here, and Dick waits impa
tiently fq* hjf f Le‘Je.’
‘He m'kts^jrlro* 9 as I am,-if he takes me at
a ^' * r ^ed upf\mp, T , n t drop the mask of cheer-
i’icSa ri'n rf'oc tgte ii-.d assumed. ' v
•As you please, of o inrse. It will save a world
of trouble not to dre-s for the ocoasion, onlv
most women are not willing to forego that priv- j
ilege. Come- take my arm, if you are ready.’
I'm not ready-I never shall be. Let the
farce end here, Mrs. Yana. No priest living
would marry me to your sin, a ainst my will.'
At the words, a cruel sneer showed itself
through the surfaoe polish.
'My priest will,’ she sail. ‘Come—they are
waiting for us.
Something in her face toll me it would be fol
ly to resist. With, I scarcely know what des
perate purpose forming itself in my mind, I suf
fered her to lead me from the apartment, down
the gloomy corridor, to Mrs. Hulk's room, which
was brilliant with light. .
Within, alreaiy a little group had a sembled.
Mrs. Fanshawe, looking quite pale and fi lr-
ried, stood near the door, leaning udou Louis
Remington’s arm. Beyond the pai s ood Rich
ard Vann; and beyond Richard, on a silken
couch brought in fort ieoccas on, sat Mrs. Hulks
while a stranger, robed as a priest, reclined
among the cushions at her side.
A'l eyes were turned expectantly npon me as
I entered. There was a brief silence. Theo
Richard, his face all aglow with triumph and
rapture, advauoed and attempted to soizt my
hand.
‘Welcome, sweet bride,’ he whispered.
I recoiled from him, battling bravely with the
fierce terror that throbbed at mv heart.
‘Wait! I cried, in a loud voice ‘Waitun’ill
learn if there is nor some one here who can feel
pity for a helpless girl, and help to save her
from a fate worse than death,’
I looked sieadf. s ly at ihe priest. He cowered
and changed color under my g.ize, but male oe
movement to interfere. He had a coarse, sen
sual-looking countenance which betrayed little
of that true manliness, so noble and so God-like
that it seems to possess a saving grace of its own
A second dead silenoe followed the utterance
of those bold words. Richard glanced at his
sister appealingly, and as if in response to that
glanoe, Mrs. Fanshawe approached, reluctantly,
as it seemed to me and touched my arm.
‘Marian, b6 quiet,’ she whispered. ‘I beg of
you not to make a scene. It will do you no
good and you are certain to regret it if you do.'
•ThiDk you I will tamely submit to have a
husband forced upon me? I answered back in
low, fierce ton- s.
‘Hush ! Dick loveB yon, and affection begets
a return in kind. You will outlive your pres
ent repugnance. To be his wife is not so bad r
fate as you seem to imagine. I fully believe
you can make anything of him you choose, such
is his infatuation for you—even a respectable
member of society.’
The sarcasm ot her last words was quite lost
upon me. I turned away, blind, bewildered,
heart-sick.
At this moment Richard again approaohed.
‘We have no time to waste,' he said, frown
ing. ‘The ceremony must proceed.'
Seizing my ice-cold hand in his, he led me
forward. For the moment I felt so stunned, so
benumbed I could offer no resistance. I re
member nothing tha‘ followed very distinctly.
I only know that a sudden commotion ensued,
that I woke up as if ont or a lethargy and found
myself standing at Richard’s side, before the
priest, who had risen to meet us.
Deliberately clearing his throat, the priest be
gan the marriage ceremony. Scarcely a dozen
words had been uttered, however, when the
room door, which Mrs. Yann had closed care
fully when we entered, was pushed open, aBd
Rose Yerlorme dashed into the apartment.
She was pale as death, her bonnet half off,
her hair dishevelled and hanging down her
back, the flimsy muslin dress she had on all
wet and bedraggled with dew, as if she had
walked a long distance, through the solemn, si
lent night. ,
‘I have come just i- time have I ?' said sbe,
sending a quick, fierce glance all round the
room tha* s emed to take in and comprehend
-vnrrthinu instantly. ‘That is well - for me,
and for others.’
H-r last words w ^re meant to be menacing.
Richard ehrnnk from my side in slow recoil.
The angry crimson of shame and mortification
surged hotly over bis face as he turned to con
front the intruder. If a glance could kill, she
would have been stricken dead at his feet.
Profound silence fell. It lasted only an in
stant, however. Richard again possessed him
self of my hand which he bad suffered to slip
from bis grasp in the firs* moment of consterna
tion. and sa : d to the i r est, who stood mute and
motio ih s: as a statue :
■Wbv are you waiting? Let the oeremony
proceed ’
R >se, still pale as death, with her eyes burn
ing like two balls of fire, and a scarlet spot on
either cheek, came resolutely up to ns.
‘The ceremony shall not proceed,’ she said.
‘Who will prevent it?'
‘I will!’
Richard turned his flushed face toward the
spot where Mrs. Y inn stood, and their glances
met.. B ’th mother and son betrayed considera
ble uneasiness.
‘How unfortunate !' muttered the former.
Rise enu ;ht the words and repeated them
with a fierce intonation.
•What is unfortunate?' she demanded. ‘That
I arrived in time to prevent this marriage?
Humph ! I suppose you thought you were well
rid of me when you sent mo to E'siDO e to spend
the day and night. Yon meant to have the
pretty affair all over before I could get back
again. Bat I suspected your motives, thank
heaven, and back I came to-night.’
Mrs Yann here approached a step or two
nearer, with an uglv look upon her face.
‘You're a fool, Rose,’ she hissed. 'Stand
aside. This marriage in no wise concerns yon.’
‘It does concern me, malam! Did you, or
did Richard think I was a wax»n image, a
senseless doll, to be deceived and cheatel and
wheedled to the top of your bent ? No. I have
a mind of my own and a will of my own. R ch
ard made love to me long before ho ever knew
that pale mouse of a thing yonder and has
promised over and over again to make me his
wife. Ne other woman shall ever nsnrp my
place. I claim tbe fulfillment of his word.’
It woul 1 be imposs'ble to describe the horri
ble vebemeoce of the tone in whioh these words
were uttered. R >se looked like some dreadful
M -S’aliua as she stood there confronting us all,
with her white face, quivering lips. aEd a sul-
lsn glare of defiance in her eyes. I think even
Mrs. Yann trembled a little, for she began,
faintly:
‘Surely you must know a man in his position
wonld never stoop to wed a girl in yours —’
•Not a word, if you please,’ interrupted Rose.
‘Argument would be useless in this ease. No
earthly power could induce me to give him up.
Besides, if I W9re w iling to do so, it is now too
late beoanse—because—’
She stopped, caught her breath sharply and a
vivid blush swept over her face.
I saw Mrs. Vmn’s countenance ohange. But
there was no pity, no relenting in it. There
was only rage and surprise at thn girls extraor
dinary bol Iness Indeed I was at a loss to com
prebend it myself.
■Shameless creature,’ she began, in a shrill
raised voice.
‘Hash ! inte-rupted Rose again. ‘Take oare
what terms you apply to me. for you may
compelled to retract them. I knew the ground
I stand on. If this marriage is allowed to pro
seed, I swear that 1 11 Kiava my reveDge npon
i, i V.” u x ~ * -ead far and t.hp) story
who. has been going in ibis housel an( j tb
is hot all. T6 the rest.'xwfl add a^lt of prs.
cions soandal I found out while looking over
Mrs Fanshawe's desk, one day. Ha, ha! 7
don t think any one of you would be in an en
viable position then !
The malice and exultation that rang in the
woman’s voice were indescribable. Mrs. Fan
shawe staggered a step fjrward, she had grown
deaily pale.
‘My G >d !' she gasped. ‘Tais must not be.
Silenoe her at whatever cost!'
Mrs. Yann glanced at her, quiokly and search
ingiy.
‘What does she mean, Lonise?’
‘I can’t tell you now, mother. I won’t tell
you ! Bat R >«e can ruin me, and she knows i
‘Yes,’ said Rose, ‘I can ruin you.’
‘Wait!’ exclaimed Louis Remington, who had
been silent till that moment. ‘The case is no
so bad as it looks. We’ve got the girl here, in
our power. It wil be strange if we can’t fiad
moans effectually to curb her cursed tongue.
His deadly meaniug was palpable enough.
With a quick movement he gained the door a'nd
placed himself with his buck aga : nst it.
R >sesmiled and scornfully tossed her heal.
‘Fool!’ she muttered. ‘Did you think
would trust myself in this den of wolves with
out taking proper precautions ? N > Harm m
—deprive me of liberty, 6ven, and you bring
exposure aDd ruin upon your own heads. Be
fore leaving Elsinore, to-night, I wrote out a
complete confession. It is in trusty hands aed
will be opened and read if I am not heard from
within the next forty-eight hours,’
Tao eff-ict of this announcement was all Rose
could have desired. The baffl id conspirators
dropped their heads and Louis shrank away
from the door with a crestfallen air.
‘Enough,’said Mrs. Vann, after a short pause,
and a silent struggle. ‘Rose, you have con
quered I wish you joy of your victory.’
Then she turned, took my hand, drawing it
forcibly away from Richard's clasp, and led me
back to my own chamber, where she left me in
silence aDd darkness, to thank God for the de
liverance that had c me to me so s’rangely.
(TO BE CONTINUED )
Romance in the Treasury.
A former United States Minister to China,
dying, lef: a widow and two or three children
with a very small income for their support.
She was advised by friends to apply for a clerk
ship in the Treasury, at Washington, which she
obtained and retained two or three years, fiith-
fully discharging her duties She was a lady
of superior education and intelligence ana
more thaD ordinary beauty. While a clerk she
met here a gentleman who thought her fitted
for a more agreeable life than earning a meagre
support for herself tnd children in the confined
air of the treasury. He wrote to a friend in
Connecticut, a millionaire, described tbe lady
and invited him to this city to meet her. He
came and was very grateful for the invitation,
for he loved, if not at firs’ at second sight, and
proposed marriage as soen as he oonld. The
wedding came off in due time in Brooklyn, and
my record aids that it was affirmed at the time
that the husband settled two hundred thousand
dollars on his wife. They have lived since very
happily and in great style. She has recently
been Lere on a visit.
The Zulu War.
Africans Slaughtering Englishmen.
When the trained troops of Eng'aud bade fare
well to the white cliffs of Albion, singing, as the
sheets were handled in the hoisting of the sails,
*G>od by, gveetheart, Good bye, they didn t
thiuk that that farewell was the last forever to
their native land, bnt regarded the contest with
the naked savages as a pastime somewhat S1CQ1 "
1 .r to shooting blackcock on the heath, and
rnnch less dangerous than tiger slaughtering in
the Indian j angles.
But a sad ..nd tragic disappointment was in
store for them, and when the tidings of their
firot def a‘ and slaughter war sent over the
wires it sTuck a chord of horror and dismay
straight to the English heart. Taen rose the
cry of ‘revenge,’ and then after the first lesson
it was deemed still mor • certain that the con
quest of Cetewayo aDd his swarthy hordes wonld
tollow fast. »
But again and'again the E lgiiffi are defeated
a-d destroyed. Night af er night the stars of
Africa look down coldly upon the dead faces of
mangled Englishmen, and the naked warriors
Jane- the wahz of victory nbovithem Cete
wayo is now the great universal round dancer.
The home government is appalled; Lord
Ch ilmsf ird. co aim n e or the E ig is i ia Afr -
ci. is dismayed, ashamed and despondent.
While displaying the most deperate courage,
f ie Bri'ish officers have evidenced the most ab
surd incapacity. As the A'kaus.is farmer said
when he counted the fragments of his favorite
bull after its attempt tet butt down a lightning
express train: ‘I admire your pluck, but your
discretion ain’t worth a daml.’
It is interesting a* this point to meet w th
some of the inner history of this war, as com
ing diiect from the scene ot battle, and narrated
by th" parti -ip inis. Coming from the rank and
tile ad is to the interest of the loliowing letter
from S rgeant P leber of t ie army service C ‘rp \
writio i subsequent to tie third and just previ
ous to the slaughter of last we k.
‘I am sure before yon get this you will have
seen in tbe E ighs'i papers what heavy loss our
army here has suff red. I will, howivir, give
you e <me idea of how it has been with us du
ring the last few weeks The general went with
the column to mike an a Ivantage on the Z ilu
king, who, plaiuly speaking, watched him and
advanc d on the headqaarte camp of the_l 2I h
regiment—strength of company about 560 all
told (Eirnpeans.) The nigg-TS came on with
close on 20 000 men. As soon as hey were s,e i
our troops opened fire. Tue wina-up was we
were out of ammunition, and they then came
hand to hand with ns, and it ended in tha
whole camp being slaughtered. Up to date onr
loss is about 1 200, and that of the enemy 1,500.
Yoi mas' exmee thD hurried scrawl, for yon
cannot know whit feeliugs a man has placed in
such a position as we are. Fancy a regiment —
the 1 24 h—that was the first in the Kaffir war,
went through t tat without a casualty, an i now,
on the eve of coming to E igland to be left with
about five offi jers and 60 rank and file. I served
with them myself, poor fellows, in the late war,
and I feel their loss very much. I believe two
of our corporals must have fallen. N > fault can
be laid on any offi ser, as every one fougot and
died like a faithful English soldier. We are
now in a sm ill fort not la- from where the sad
battle was fought. We can only muster about
86 rifles, and we have at the least 15 000 nig
gers round us. We are up, as yon may siy, day
and night, in case of an attack. The troops in
the fort a e the rem uants of the 24 b. Tne cry
is ‘R iveege !' Yju mast not deem me faint
hearted, nut every one fally expects that if we
do not get help s >on we shall suff ir the same
fate as oar comrades. I have two close friends,
sergeants in the 24 b, and we have made up our
-uioO j to fi -jHt t» ttiq last, and if it shoul^pleiis '
G >d tLat we at#* to die here we will do so in
honor of our country and queen.
‘Tdegram just in
‘N ggers rising all ov»r the cdoay. Every
white man to hava arms. O i! ho w I wish they
would come on us, so as to bavi the sa’isfactio'n
of avenging our departed comrades. Even if I
should fall it will not be without a struggle. If
anything should happen to me give my poor
wife and children a kind word. Every night I
think of them. If we can bnt hold out for a
few weeks more we shall be all right. A-s's-
tance will, I think, be at hand.’
This poor fellow's worst fears were realiz id, as
the surrounding enemy crushed in upon them
and annihilated them.
Marie Roze and her Rich Dresses.
The pastos’s wife testifies as to her husband's lia
bility to be gulled, while others confine themselves
to his ability to gull others. One fact brought to
the notice of the court was the inscription on the
back of one of the pews, in big letters, proclaiming
the tact that “Dr. Van Dyke is a liar !”
“Smile when you can," is the latest thing we are asked
to do by those gratuitously admonitory beings, the poets.
No one can smile when he can’t
B it few persons, as they hurry along Four
teenth street are awari in what clcs i proximi y
they are to the famous prima donna,Marie R >ze.
She sojourns near the residence of Mrs. Hicki
Lord. Lot me describe her reception room, as
I looked around while awaiting her entrance :
An apartment of limited dimension, yet taste
fully fu-nished in crimson and blue, and fra
grant with the perfume of fl iwers received as
t-ophies of her success the previous night. Yet
there were evidences of that work whioh the
life of antist demands, for scattered here* and
there, and lying on her favorite Steinway up
right piano were scores of operas and loose
sheets of music Bat soon the lovely lady her
self came in, and I must tell you something of
the dress she wore. It was a splendid Princess
costume of navy blue velvet,* made entirely
plain, with the exception of a plaiting about
eight inches around the lower edge. H it collar
aad cuffs were of point lace and a heavy chate-
liene of gold with vinaigrette, etc., was sus
pended at her side. Very obligingly she es
corted me up a fl'ght of stairs, and there lay
the long velvet sacque and bonnet of navy bine
velvet which she adds when she is driving. A
rich dress was of cardinal and black silk
trimmed with medallions of broozo j it made
with sweeping train, oblique drapery across the
front, plain basque with heart-shaped neck and
elbow sleeves. B side it was a snowy satin,
glis'ening in front with crystal lace ; tha back a
train o f polka do‘ted satin. The corsage w is
‘ >w, but her maid coma in with a high-necked
and long-sieev ;d basque which might be substi
tuted. Besides these were other toilets, repos
ing in trunks, where, as this Prima Dinua said
wi'h a gentle sigb of regret and in broken Eng
lish, whioh becomes her, they ‘get much
spoiled.’
What will ha do with it?’’ is the painfu'ly inter
esting question asked in regard to a M chimin
clergyman and a donation recentiv received bv
him. This brother had called on a wealthy brewer
fora gift for his church. The brewer did not at
once respond, hut no - astonishes the Michigander
by sending him a dozen barrels of beer “Silver
and gold have I none but such as I have give I
thee,’ said Peter to the poor fellow who asked alms
And so the brewer bestows his charity in what he
happened to have on hand. The Michigan man is
embarrassed. He does not ;iike to sell the beer, or
to give it to the brethren and sisters to drink.
Neithe- does he think it would be courteous to re
turn it to the donor. It is su.-gessed that some of
the physicians in the congregation prescribe it to
the invalids thereof, to be taken medicinally but
this suggestion does not find general favor. (Some
of the temperance men threaten to knock the
heads eut of the barrels, and thus let the beverage
be wasted, but this has not ye' been agreed to The
case gives rise to certain interesting questions in
easui-tic divinity. If the brewer had‘given a cash
donation, would it not have been a part of the pro
ceeds of the sale of beer? Could it be less sinful to ^
receive his money than to receive the beer, which 9
he might have turned into money? Would it be
right or wrong, uuder the circumstances, to sell the
beer and put its cash equivalent into the church
treasury? Would it be right or wrong to send the
beer back to the brewer? These and other kindred
conundrums perpieot the Michigan pastor by day
aDd by night, and he wishes he had never seen that
miserable brewer.
INSTINCT PRINT