Newspaper Page Text
SADA AND THE DOCTOR;
OR,—
Avenger of the Wronged.
BY LIEUTENANT FELIX.
CHAPTER L
At the age of twenty-eight Dr. Algernon
Abel, M. D., was a resident of a pretty country
village named B n, in one of onr Western
States. He was a graduate from one of the best
medical colleges, and bad not his destiny been
otherwise, might have made a higher mark on
the target of the world, than a simple country
physician. In all the wide world he could call
but two of the human family by the endearing
name of friend. One of these was a young man
by the name of Bottsford, who had graduated
from the same institution as himself. The
other, Lyman Sands, a man far above the ‘com
mon herd, ‘ possessing true nobleness of heart
and simplicity of nature. He was the owner of
a charming country seat nestled in the woods,
half a mile from the village, ‘Maple Grove,’ by
name, a large old-fashioned wooden structure,
with great gobies and broad wings, resting upon
a basement of hewn stone, with a wide avenue
extending to the street, shaded with elms and
maples, while on either side the grounds were
beautifully laid out and planted in shrubbery.
The family of Lyman Sands consisted of him
self and wife, and a boy called ‘Three Fingered
Joe,’ a kind of protege. Mrs. Sands was the most
fascinating woman Dr. Algernon Abel had ever
seen. She was graceful and beautiful with a
winning smile and manner. But Dr. Abel be
lieved Mrs. Sands to be as heartless as she was
beautiful. Lyman Sands had inherited a deli
cate constitution, and Dr. Abel believed that a
slow consumption had fastened upon him, and
that he was gradually dying. He himself had
little hope of life. Bot he liked to have his
friend with him, and the doctor's calls were in
tended more to help him while away the lonely
hourB.
‘Abel,’ he Baid one morning, after his queenly
wife had paid one of her brief visits, ‘don't you
think I have one of the most beautiful women
in the world, for a wife?’
‘Bah,’answered the doctor, testily. ‘Don’t
ask a bachelor of eight and twenty such a ques
tion, beside I like to see lovely women, not
beautiful and fascinating ones. ‘
Sands turned uneasily on his pillow; at last
he said : ‘Perhaps you are right. One may ad
mire, yes, worship beauty, but it is the charac
ter one loves after all. ‘
Doctor Abel nodded, then whistled to himself
and looked out of the window. The gay laugh
of Lyman’s wife, and the hum of merry voices
came up from the garden. Mrs. Sands and
Stanton Langdon were walking, arm in arm
down the shaded walk, while the cousin of the
latter, a merry, romping girl of fifteen, was
chattering like a magpie as she ran on before,
or played boo-peep in some arbor behind. The
doctor was provoked; this was the woman his
friend loved with such worshipping devotion.
‘A gilded butterfly, a heartless craeture oi fash
ion and folly,‘Dr. Abel thought. Sands read his
friend's countenance. He held up his wasted
hands and looked at them thoughtfully, sighed
faintly, and said, in his quiet way:
‘I know what you are thinking about, Abel;
you are thinking that Mrs. Sands’ place is here
with me, instead of enjoying her company down
stairs.‘
‘Yes, Lyman, I was thinking of her.*
‘You should not think so,’ said the invalid; ‘I
don’t want her to bleach the roses on her cheeks,
and lose her cheerful spirits here in this close,
dismal room; she could not be happy to see
me suffering, and I want her to be happy and
cheerful while I live. 1
‘Oh yes, that is good in you, ‘ said Doctor
Abel, rather provokingly, -good in you, but I
say Lyman, it is rather selfish in her toi accept
such a sacrifice ai your hands, to eDjoy 1 herself
while you are suffering; not that I call that a
sacrifice, but you know yourself how pleasant
it would be for you to have her with ^ou to
take care of you and keep you from getting
lonesome.*
A smil9 flitted over the white face, but it soon
gave place to a regretful, wistful look. ‘
•Don’t talk of that, doctor, ‘ he said, ‘Madeline
never could endure the annoyance and confine
ment of a sick-room; it would be selfish in me
to ask it of her, ‘
‘It would not be selfish, ‘ said the doctor,
thoroughly provoked, ‘here you lie day after
day, and week after week, and none but hire-
luigs nearly all the time to exchange a word
with, or to do anything for you.‘
■Except you, Abel. ‘
‘Me, what can I do, and what am I but a hire
ling, who will be sure to bring a good round
bill for medical attendance.
‘Well, all right, yon are curing me, and that’s
all I want. I am getting better at last, and by
fall, I shall be strong enough to discharge you
and shall pay you for your services. Not that
you nave given me so much horrid medicine,
but you have administered what is better than
resin and honey, cod liver oil, or wine of tar,
your pleasant chat, that has made my illness
endurable. ‘
‘Well enough when fall comes, ‘ shuddered
the doctor. How could he help it. He knew
there was no hope for his friend, and that the
autumn leaves would fall upon his grave. This
thought made him persist in finding fault with
the course of Mrs. Sands.
‘I know you have a good nurse, 1 he said,
‘Margaret is willing enough, but she cannot an
ticipate your wants, and be tender with you as
a wife could be. ‘
If Madeline was ill as you are. do you think
you would only pay her a formal call or two ev
ery day to complain of the closeness of the sick
room, and then leave her to pass the dreary
hours away as bsst she could?’
The sick man saw the force of the doctor’s re-
maiks, yet made no reply.
‘Don’t you remember,’ continued the doctor,
‘two years ago, when Mrs. Sands lay ill with the
typhus fever, how you never left her alone for
long weeks, and for more than a month, you
never lelt her in the care of strangers night or
day, have you administered all the medicines,
carried her from one bed to another in your
arms, in fact, did everything you could to grat-
of a cousin bad made quite a respectable visit
by this time, and might be termed members of
your family rather than guests,’ said the doctor,
rather bitterly. ‘And as far as that young gentle
man being a mere boy, he does Dot thus es
teem himself, I dare say, and would not thank
yon for thus considering him.'
Then Dr. Abel suddenly remembered that he
was uselessly distressing his patient. He sat
down by him and taking his hand, said gently.
‘Forgive me Lyman, I am a sad bear, and I
don't understand about women and society as
you say. It is all right no doubt. I must go
now. I will be back to morrow.’
He started off in a new train of thought; he
would appeal to Mrs. Sands, and not the inva
lid; how could he help his wife’s negligence?
The doctor acted upon this mental suggestion,
he cared very little for Mrs. Sand’s enmity, or
friendship; he was a plain-spoken man, and
said what he thought was true, let consequences
be what they might. Lyman Sands was the
doctor's friend, he liked the man, he saw him
dying inch by inch, without care or attention,
save from the hands of hirelings. The doctor
knew that Lyman felt this from the bottom of
his heart, and he was determined to do all in
his power to make matters better, for worse
he did not fear.
He expected to find Mrs. Sands in the gar
den, but a glance through the tasteful grounds
convinced him she was not there. Just then
Biddy Maeoon, a rosy-cheeked daughter of the
‘Emerald Isle,’ came out of the parlor, bearing
a tray loaded with cake and wine glasses, etc.
She paused as she encountered the doctor and
made a respectful obeisance.
‘Is Mrs. Sands in the parlor?’ he asked, ‘if
so inform her that I wish to speak with her.’
The girl sat the tray down upon one of the
steps of the broad stairway, and went back to
the parlor. She returned in a moment say
ing:
‘Mrs. Sands is engaged, doctor.’
‘Go back and tell her my business is urgent.
I wish to speak with her in regard to her hus
band’s health.’
Again Biddy disappeared, and again she re
turned. saying;
‘Mrs. Sands will be afther seeing ye in the
mornin’, doctor.’
‘And pray, how is she engaged?’ asked the
doctor, now entirely out of all patience.
‘Sure, sir, an’ its wid the chess that Mistress
is afther playing wid Masther Langdon, doc
tor.’
He walked down the broad steps with no
very good grace, down the long avenue of
maples to where his horse awaited him.
‘And that is the woman Lyman Sands loves!
and that is woman’s devotion that poets have
sung and dreamed of, and lovers sigh for,’
said Algernon Abel, bitterly. ‘That is the love
of the sex. and yet they are called angels and
divine. Now, two things, I, Algernon Abel
have resolved to do, first, to see Mrs. Sands the
very next morning, and, if possible, induce her
for her husband’s sake to give him more of her
attention while he lives; and, second, if I fail,
to tell her exactly what I think of her.’
He turned his back on her and marched out ! ‘I am glad you have come, Abel, I have been under a dress and occupations that would ward
of the parlor. He was so angry hestopped and J thinking of what you said yesterday, and I have suspicion from him. Sometimes he was a Jew
stood to oollect himself before visiting his pa- come to the conclusion that I am lonesome; not peddler, heavily bearded and mustached, again
tj en t that I want Madeline here to weary herself for he was an Indian hunter and once when he was
On reaching the head of the stairs he met the ' my sake, but as you say, dootor, there are closely watched, he assumed the disguise of a
nurse who informed him Mr. Sands was not so i dozens of little attentions I would like, but | negro and worked at jobs of fencing and rock
well. The doctor found him cheerful, however. . can’t think of unless anticipated for me, and as | chimneys.
He greeted his physician with a smile and ex- j many more that I can think of, but don t like to
tended his thin hand which the doctor took and | tantalize a nurse by asking for. For instance,
held while he criticallv examined the patient’s I was thinking how fragrant a boquet would be
— - - ~ in a vase on that table, in place of that yellow
face,
fast.
He saw that Lyman Sands was going
CHAPTER II.
Algernon A.bel called on Mrs. Sands as he had
intended. He found her looking bewitching
in a fawn-colored morning wrapper, with ner
black hair in plain braids and a Gloire rose nest-
liog in the silky meshes. Th6 doctor could butac-
knowledge her beauty,and had she been a paint
ing,he would have loved to gaze upon her face
and form. As it then was.he felt how inferior was
the jewel to the casket that contained it.
The drawing-room in which he found her was
fitted up with elegance. Large mirrors reflect
ed statues, paintings, and rare ornaments; re
flected, too, the regal form, the queenly face of
the parlor’s rarest ornament, the mjitress of
Maple Grove. She rose from a damapk sofa as-
the doctor entered, and came forward to meet
him, graceful and smiling.
‘I am glad to see you, doctor Abel,’ she said,
‘and very sorry I was denied the privilege last
evening.’
•You denied it to yourself, Mrs. Sands,’ he
answered, rather gruffly.
•So I did, doctor, sol did; I was engaged
with Mr. Langston in a discussion of—’ °
‘It had more interest for you, I have no doubt,
than the subject I desired to broach,’ he inter
rupted.
She elevated her beautiful brows but did not
reply.
‘I suppose. Mrs. Sands, you know as well as
I do, the state of your husband’s health. You
know he is failing 6very day. His cough is
more troublesome, and his breathing more pain
ful and laborious. I cannot say how long h6
he will last. The disease under which he is la
boring is uncertain. He may only live out this
day, or he may survive until frost comes,’
He watched the woman’s, face for one shad
ow of real feeling, of sympathy. He only watch
ed in vain. She listened calmly and gravelv,
that was all.’
‘Well,’ she said, at length.
Dr. Abel was exasperated, but controlling his
feelings, he continued:
•Well, simply this. Since he cannot at best
live but a little while, and craves your presence
as he does, let him have more of your society
to cheer and comfort him while he does live.’
‘Does he lack for attention ? If the nurse is
unfaithful in her duties to him let her be dis
charged at once, doctor.’
‘It is not the duties of a nurse, Mrs. Sands,but
the devoted attention of a wife, of a—’
Again the doctor controlled himself and main
tained a calm exterior. She made no reply.
‘Just think how lonely you would be, lying
there day after day, week after week, waiting for
the grim messenger,alone; no one to cheer,com
fort, amuse; no one to give yon that sympathy
and love which your heart would crave; none
to read to you, to help you pass the dreary
hours a* ay. Just think of it, Mrs. Sands. Put
yourself in his place for a moment, in vour im
agination, and say if it is asking for tcomuchof
you to give the invalid more of your care and
attention. You know that a more whole-souled
man than your husband never lived. You know
of his self-sacrificing labors time and again, on
your behalf. You know how he never left you
alone for a single hour when you were ili. You
cannot forget how he contracted the cough that is
taking him to his grave in the bloom of life.
The doctor sat down by his side after raising
the window, throwing back the shutters and ar
ranging the pillows of the bed more comfort
ably.
•You are too good, my boy. When I get well
HI make up to you,’ said the invalid, smiling
gratefully. ‘Have you seen Madeline this
morning,- doctor ?’ he continued.
‘Yes.’
‘Did she look well ? The season is very sick
ly. I hear. If she should take the fever, what
would she do ?’
‘Mrs. Sands is quite well. I am sure she nev
er looked better in her life.’
‘Why don't you keep the little rascal up here
then to amuse you.’
■I did make the attempt. Sit down here and
I’ll tell you all about it. You see, Abei, I
thought it would be fine amusement to have the
three fingered rascal up here with me, that I
could learn him to read, write, and amuse me.
So I duly installed him here, and what do you
think was the result, one broken looking glass,
four yards of satin wall paper destroyed, one
bottle of castor oil broken on the carpet, wasted
medicine, the window casing made into a
saw by his villainous Jack knife when I was
a sleep, the handle broken off a splendid China
pitcher belonging to a toilet set ; my medicines
exchanged for tepid water. So I spent a whole
day in pain to pay for it, my hair braided in
little strings all over my head, with the strings
tied to the headboard of the bed, and the bell
cord tied out of my reach. When I woke up
the little rascal was gone, and tkat was the end
of my amusement with the young heathen.’
‘And what did you do with him.’
‘Do with him, I’d like to see myself doing
anything with that young Hottentot ;’ he’s my
wife's protege.'
‘Ah, indeed.’
‘Yes, one she found in a poor house, or some
where. She seems to take to the creature
mightily, and as we have no children of our
own, I don’t blame her at all.’ The invalid
laughed, faintly, and the doctor was glad to see
his patient in such good spirits.
As Doctor Abel reached the bottom of the
broad stairs, Mrs. Sands in company with Stan
ton Langdon rode up the long avenue of maples,
chatting gayly, the former looking exceedingly
well in a perfectly fitting riding habit, with a
becoming hat and rich plume, the latter bend
in his saddle to listen to the words spoken by
his fair companion. He was a dark-complex
ioned slender young man, with a face that
might have been handsome, but for its sensuous
expression.
Mr. Langdon nodded to Dr. Abel as he passed,
and Mrs. Sands smiled and bowel as politely
as if she had forgotten the occurrence of the
morning. As for Abel, he returned the saluta
tion coldly, he hated them both. »
As the doctor turned down the road to the
right, he saw a man standing by the roadside
gazing after the figures of the two riders. He
was dressed in a coarse tattered garb ; his bare
feet brown by exposure, his face tanned and
scarred, while around it floated thick masses of
iron-grey, unkempt hair. The sound of the
horses hoofs startled him, and he turned to
wards the doctor, letting the strange gleam of
his av£S fall q.pon him, Ah, those strange eyes,
blacf, serpen^ like, and penetrating. Mr. Abel
notl/jad good morning ;to him, and was about
passing on, when he walked straight up and
laid hold of the horse’s bridle ; ‘Do you live in
these parts?’ he said, in a gruff drawling voice,
•Yes sir.’
‘Well can you tell me who might be the
owners of yon big house ?’ he asked, pointing
to the mansion the doctor had just left.
Certainly, sir,’ replied Abel, greatly wonder-
bowl of stale gruel; and then, it would be so
nice to have some one read to me who had taste
and judgment to select such pieces as I would
like to hear. Last evaning I asked Margaret,
the nurse, to read me a little from this week’s
paper; of course she did so, and entertained
me first with an awful murder story, which
strung my weak nerves up to the highest pitch,
That interview of the Montgpmery’s and
Coralie with Nelly and Julius lasted more than
half the night. They sat and talked and looked
in each other’s eyes and seemed unable to tear
themselves apart.
‘Never can I forget you my more than father
and mother, and my more than brother,’ said
Nelly as she sat between her foster parents with
a hand in each of theirs, and her ayes turning
often to the handsome and noble face of Willie
who sat opposite. Let my chequered lot be
what it may, you will always be nearest and
and afterwards read me an essay on hop cul- ! dearest, end if I can tide safely over this stormy
ture; she had no judgment, and lam not strong transition time, I hope to find rest again in
enough to select for myself; and, besides, she j your presence and in your love.’^
reads very rapidly, does not mind her stops, j And at the same time, Julius in another part
pronounces indistinctly, and to tell the truta, j of the room was murmuring vows of never-end-
" ‘ ' ' ing devotion to Coralie—vows that neither ever
I felt ten per oent. worse off after my evening’s
entertainment. 1
Lyman sighed softly to himself, then con
tinued again:
‘So I have been thinking it would be so nice
to have little Sada here again. Sada, why don't
you remember her, Abel?*
‘Yes, I remember her now, since you have
mentioned the name; I had forgotten her, she
was a little girl and stayed inside the nursery
when she was at Maple Grove; I remember see.
| forgot.
! Two weeks afterwards they were upon the
| broad Atlantic bound for European shores.
Nelly was placed in a convent in the South of
France, and Julius enlisted under the banner
of Napoleon II. who was then nobly aiding the
Italian’s in their struggle for independanee of
the Austrian government. Julius inherited
bravery and military acumen and his wild and
fearless training of limb and muscle among the
ing her a year ago, she was quite a young woman > Georgin mountains enabled him to distinguish
then, but who is she, Lyman?'
‘Who is she? why, my only brother’s child.’
Did you never hear me speak of my only broth
er, Conrad? Well, he and I were twins. I was
the more robust of the two, he was delicate and
sensitive from a child. We both became ac
quainted with Margaret W— my father's ward—
one of the sweetest and loveliest of girls, we
both loved her. I love to think of her. I can
not think it a sin, though Madeline is my wife,
and Margaret beoame Conrad's wife. No, I can
not think it a sin, because it is a pure love.’
‘And this Margaret is little Sada’s mother, and
Conrad’s her father?
‘Yes, Abel.’
Here the sick man turned his face to the
wall, and the doctor walked toward the win
dow. After a time Lyman spoke again:
‘Conrad and Margaret are both dead; they
left little Sada to my care. Sada is so much
like her mother in disposition, while her face
is very like her fathers. Oh, I should like so
much to have her with me, but—'
But what, Lyman?’ asked the doctor.
himself during the contest that followed, by
some feats of daring coolness and strengh worthy
a military veteran. For these he was promo
ted from the ranks of private soldier and re
ceived honorable mention from his commander.
Once more, he performed a signal military ser
vice that brought upon him the notice of the
Emperor himself. The war ended, Victor Eman
uel sat upon the throne of Italy and France felt
the glow of chivalry in having given her assist
ance to the struggling. Caspar judged the mo
ment was ripe for pressing the claims of the
children of the unfortunate Marshall who had
perished in exile. He brought them forward
and sought and obtained a privateinterview with
the Emperor,—proved the birth of Julius and
Nelly or Corneille, by papers in possession, old
family records and letters, clothes marked with
the family crest and the yellow flag, torn and
bloody, the Marshall’s own colors which had
floated in so many battle fields, and at last went
down in defeat. He proved it also by the
presence and testimony of one of the Marshall's
trusted followers, who had been an officer in
•I don’t know as I should tell you, Abel,’ he | his command and had voluntarily accompanied
ify even her slightest whims, and by going from j And can you not make somethiug of an effort,'
the hot sick room into the cold and back again, j some little sacrifice for his comfort and happil
you contracted this wretched cough that has not i ness while he is with you, for it will be but a
for a moment left you since.' j little while.’
Poor Madeline, how very ill she was.’
, He waited for an answer. He thought sure-
‘He forgets his own suffering and wrong in j ly the memory of her husband’s love and devo.
thinking of her!* said the doctor^ to himself^ as i tion would soften her heart, although her pride
might prevent it becoming apparent.
ing in his mind who this strange specimen of a
men could be, ‘Yes, sir, that is the residence of
Col, Lyman Sands.
‘And is that his wife ?’
•Yes sir, that lady is Mrs. Sands, but, that
gentleman is not her husband.’
The strange man dropped the bridle rein as
though it burned him.
‘Do you know those grand folk’s ?' he asked,
pointing to the mansion, ‘I saw you come from
there, are you sure that was Mrs. Sands ?’
‘Yes, sir.’
He stared at the doctor in a vacant kind of a
way, as he drew the bridle rein and vras about
to pass on, when he spoke again.
‘I say, mister, is this Col, Lyman Sands you
tell me of, dead ?’
•No, sir, but he is very ill,’ replied the doctor.
There was a strange glittering of the adder like
eyes, beneath the shaggy eye brows’ as he looked
up at Dr. Abel for a moment, then turned his
back and walked hastily away, muttering to
himself; ‘No, sir, but he is very ili.’
Dr. Abel, greatly wondering at the man’s
strange manner rode on his way. As he turned
an angle in the road, he saw the man standing
in close proximity to a cluster of willows near
the hall, gazing steadily towards the building.
A feeling of uneasiness came over the doctor
that was not in the least dispelled as he entered
the village on a brisk trot, by seeing the “Bill
Poster,” putting up large yellow posters, on the
street corners, which read as follows:
said, slightly coloring and looking attentively
at his semi-transparent hands. ‘You might think
I have done wrong, bnt if yon do, you are
blunt enough to tell me of it, and not lay it
up against me. Madaline never liked children,
and so I had little Sada sent off to a boarding-
school. I thought she would be far happier
there than here. But I want to see little Sada
again. I should like to have her white hands
smooth the pain from my forehead as she used
to do, and gather flowers and read to me. And
then, Abel, Sada can sing. She has her moth
er's voice.’
The invalid closed his eyes wearily for a
while, and Algernon Abel was engaged in watch
ing a fly trying to disengage itself from a large
spider's web that festooned one corner of the
half-kept room, and mentally comparing his
friend, Lyman Sands, to that victimized fly, and
his beautiful wife to the spider and her web.
•Dr. Abel, there is paper, pens and ink, in
that drawer; here are the keys under my pil
low. I want you to write to my little Sada and
tell her that I am not very well, and that I
want her to come home an’d keep, me compa
ny.’ 1
Dr. Abel did as Lyman had requested; wrote,
sealed and directed the letter, and then pre
pared to bring his morning call to a close.’
‘You will be sure to mail the letter, doctor?’
•Yes. 1
‘That‘s right. I don't like to trust it to three
fingered Joe, the careless imp, he’d take the en
velope for a kite string messenger, likely as any
him in exile. This was no other than the man we
have known as Prince Reveille, who was known
to many then living, and who now returned to
his native land.
The claims of the brother and sister to the
name and patrimony ot their gallant father,
were proved sufficiently, the usnrpers were
ousted from their place and the young American
heirs were installed in the proud home, the
wealth and honors that were theirs by right.
They accepted these honors gracefully, with
the grave dignity of hearts that had been chast
ened by trials, and sobered by the memory of
their misfortunes and death of their noble
parents. All the flattery and friends that now
surrounded them could not cause them to for
get the friends across the ocean who had been
so dear and so devoted; and a few months after
their installment in their rights, they bade adieu
to their new home, leaving it in charge of Aunt
Penny Lemon who had come out from America,
and went back to their native shores to visit
the old home and friends among the mountains
of Georgia. They came incognitp, pis.in]^--*, 1 ' e> <*-
dressed arid with no attendants, and spent a
quiet, strictly retired, but happy month with
Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery in their mountain
home, and with Coralie and their relatives the
, who came from Carolina on purpose to
be with them; Julius visited his foster parents,
and without explaining anything of his history,
thanked them warmly for their kindness and
settled upon them property more than sufficient
to ensure them a comfortable income through
out their lives. Nelly showered presents upon
her friends Coralie and Olura, and insisted upon
bestowing costly tributes of affection and grati
tude upon those who had so tenderly cared for
her infancy, and begged them to return and
live with her in her grand new home across the
sea. But Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery could not
FORTY YEARS AGO.
way. That boy i3 a regular nuisance.’
‘Three-fingered Joe, pray, who is he?’ en
quired the doctor.
‘Why, bless my stars, have you never seen
the little rascal. Didn’t you S9e anything aronnd
here, half-human, and half-monkey turning
somersaults, and burning fire crackers, and do
ing mischief in general; a shaggy mass of black j forget the ties of country and association, and a
hair with a pair of keen black eyes, and a j compromis: was effected by which thev agreed to
square chubby little figure? | spend some months of everv year with their
(To be Continued.) ; children in sunny France. Yes, their children,
» ! for Coralie had promised te return with Julius
as his bride, and Willie Montgomery found that
the better part of his life would go from him if
I he allowed Nelly to return and leave him.
Concluded from 6th page. j There was a quiet double marriage in the parlor
sons it was necessary for both him and his sis- j of Mr. Montgomery^ home on the day fixed for
ter to remain in that hidden palace until such | the departure of the two young visitors, and the
time as Caspar should return and dictate their j gray-haired minister who officiated, and Olnra
future course. | Sundown, Mr. and Mrs. Shannon who were
With the evening Mrs. Lemon arrived with ! present, alone knew of the high rank of two of
intelligence confirming Mumford Doring’s sto- I the contracting parties. Not to his foster pa-
ry of the battle as told him by Calveda, the In- i rents or even lo Joe Harper did Julius tell the
dian, and it was under these sad circumstances ! secret. It would do no good, it would only
that Julius Latrain once more met the strange j seem to make the gnlf of inequality greater be-
woman who had been one of his earliest and ; tween them, so Julius was silent as to the rank
most constant friends. The meeting was ape- J of his sister and himself.
culiar one. and resulted in placing life before j Poor Joe was cruelly divided between joy at
the young prisoners in a phase of which they j the wonderful and to him miraculous preserva-
dared hoDe hut little. ! tion of th6 mysterious pair, and pain at Nelly’s
dared hope but little
To follow farther the fortunes of the principal
characters of our story is a task we cannot do in
detail. It is beyond the limits of our story. A
portion of these fortunes have now passed into
history.
For two months, Julius and Nelly remained
closely secluded in the hiding place provided
for them by the foresight of Caspar. Then in
disguise, they quitted the state and the country
marriage with another. He had had do hope’of
seeing her again, but he had fed his wild heart
on memories of h6r beauty and sweetness, and
although he knew well she could never be his,
it was still a pang to see her another's. But
time brought relief, and gradually the heart of
the young hunter was weaned from its bitter re
gret and turned to Olnra Sundown for sympa-
j thy and finally for love. Aunt Penny Lemon,
he arose and paced the room. ‘Confound Mrs.
Sands,’ he said at length; ‘she isn’t worthy of
such a man as you, Lyman; you are a whole-
souled fellow, but she ’
‘Hush,’ Abel,’ said the invalid, as the color
flashed up into his face and his eyes sparkled.
•Madaline Sands is my wife, remember sir. J>o
O ne,nonot even you, must come between us,’
^he added with dignity.
I think the doctor was going to say something
very bitter in regard to the company his wife pre
ferred to her husband's, but the sick man un
derstood and interrupted him
pnae
_ . But she
remained unmoved as a marble statue.
‘I think you are worrying yourself quite un
necessarily, doctor,’ she said, at last. -My hus
band does not lack for attention. If yon have
nothing more to say, we will waive the subject.
Will yon take wine or brandy, doctor?'
She was calm and smiling as ever, and arose
to summon the servant
‘Do not trouble yourself, Mrs. Sands,’ said
Dr. Abel, indignantly, ‘yon have neither love
nor sympathy for your husband, or a heart to
appreciate his worth. Allow me to say howev-
Stanton Langdom never can come between er, it is no more than I expected. Yon may rec-
n y wife and me, he said with emphasis, ‘he is j cllect the old adage, ‘put a beggar on horse-
a mere boy, and my wife entertains him with j back.’ This is all I have to say this morning,
tbat politeness and frankness that is character-I Good day, Mrs. Sands.'
istic of her. Do you suppose I would have her ‘Good day, doctor; call again when there is
leave her company to mope herself to death anv of my business you would like to attend to.’
here with me.’ _ I Unabashed and self-possesssed, she held out
‘I should think Mr. Langdon and his tom-bov j her jeweled hand to him, mockingly.
‘BEWABD, OFFERED.’
‘Five hundred dollars reward. On the night
of the 15th inst., a sailor, bearing the name of
Dick Harris, and convicted of manslaughter at
the last term of court, broke jail and has not
been seen or heard of since. He is a man about
forty-five years of age, black hair, slightly grey,
black eyes, heavy eye-brows, and drawls
slightly in his speech. He is five feet six inches
in height, square built, and has a scar on his
left arm. Any person, or persons, returning
the said conviet into the hands of the under
signed, shall receive the above offered reward, I carriage breakdown in traveling, for these two
on demand. Jasper Clayton, j unfortunate heirs of an illustrious but deposed
County Sheriff. ; and exiled family still had paid emissaries on
Dr. Abel at once connected the man he | their track. These had b6en put to fault by the !
had seen with this escaped convict, and imme- j complete and unaccountable disappearance of j It is the practice of book agents and manufac--
diately he turned his horse and galloped back j Julius and Nelly, but they still lurked around j turers of inferior articles to employ the most ex-
to the place where he last saw the tramp, but I in disguise, and kept up a close and unremit- j travagant language in calling attention to their
the man was no where to be seen, and recollect- j ting watch. It had come to their knowledge i e ’ “ ut V 1 ® 1 SIm I , J e truth dearly pre
in g that he had several patient’s who needed his i some weeks before, that Julius was also hidden J tn s A? 0 n? < \ e i® ectlve ln °!^ erlng
attention, Dr. Abel dismissed the subject from somewhere among these mountains with the ! Coussens 1 ’ Honey of Tar, trimmest re^ablTremedv
ln company with Caspar. Before they left it j whose affections drew her too strongly to Ameri-
was so arranged that Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery, : ca to be resisted, returned to the mountains in
Coralie, and Willie stopped as if accidentally J time to witness the marriage of the lovely In-
at the cabin of the and there had a long and ! dian girl and the brave and whole-souled young
touching interview with Julius and Nelly. The I hunter, and to bestow upon them Nelly’s and
visit at Caspar's direction was ingeniously man- j Julius’ substantial marriage present of money
aged to seem a mere accidental stoppage from a ; as W6ll as pretty and useful souvenirs of affec
tion and remembrance.
The End,
his mind.
(a-Late in the afternoon, he was called to attend
a gentleman several miles oat in the country,
and did not start on his return home until near
nine o’clock in the evening. As he passed
Maple Grove Hall on his way back he saw lights
flitting here and there past the windows, and as
he lode by the iron gate, he fancied he detected
the form of a man stealing about amid the
shrubbery and maples, could it be one of the
servants? He drew the bridle rein and paused.
The man leaped the fence and dashed passed
him, apparently not noticing the doctor's prox
imity. The moonlight fell fall upon his face.
secret of his birth concealed by adoption into
an obscure family. It was not difficult to trace
him, both because of his resemblance to Nelly
and because of the prominent nobility of his
mind and character, but no sooner had they
traced him than the series of events recorded in
our last chapters took place and he vanished
from th6ir sight, in a cloud of mystery, perhaps,
thought the emissaries, in a cloud of death.
As time went by and nothing could be dis
covered of either of the two highborn children,
the emissaries reported to their employers that
both were dead, one being devoured by wild
beasts in the woods, and the other having lost
Abel started with astonishment. It was the bare \ his lite in a fearful storm among the craggy and
footed man he had met in the morning. The , precipitous mountain fastnesses. They received
doctor put spurs to his horse and rode on, bnt i a reward and relaxing their vigilance, soon after
all the way he kept repeating to himself, ‘I won- j left the state. Not until he was sure of this did
der who that strange man is, and why does he j Caspar determine to remove his charge from
visit Maple Grove Hall, and why did he ask me | their hiding place, and even then, he thought
so particularly about Mrs. Sands, and inquire | it safer they should go in disguise. He himself
if Col. Sands was dead. I had hovered near them all the while, hidden
for coughs, colds, and all diseases of the throat and
lungs. Price 50c. a bottle.
“O, youth, with smooth, sand-papered pate,
The night is dark the hour is late,
TUhy do you linger on my gate i”
“I stay to help your daughter hold
This pate upo 1 Its hinges old ;
Go in, old man, you’re catching cold.”
Trie old man sought his little bed
And on it laid his patient head ;
“I think my gate is safe,” he said.
The game of poker is very old. Shakespeare savs:
“I’ll call thee, Hamlet.”
There’s many a girl called a “daisy” before mar
riage who, after a few years, looked like a faded
old “buttercup.”
The serpent left his trail ir the Garden of Eden,
but the general belief is that Eve’s dress-pattern
was too scanty to enable her to do likewise. >
INSTINCT print