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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