About The sunny South. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1875-1907 | View Entire Issue (Oct. 1, 1887)
THE SUNNY SOUTH. ATLANTA. GA„ SATURDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 1,1887. forth. Sumrr Sottth. A Great Detective Story. FROM THE DIARY OF INSPECTOR BYRNES. BY JULIAN HAWTHORNE. [Copyrighted 1887. All rights reserved.] CHAPTER VII. As the game ended the princess struck a loud chord on the piano and rose. ledovsky rose also, with a laugh, and said: I offer my felicitations to Mme. Strogello, and I thank you all for an agreeable evening.’ “But my dear, I protest you should not have done it!” exclaimed the signor to his wife. “M. le Comte will think we wish to pillage him! A royal flush is a thing that comes but once in ten years. You should not have per mitted him to involve himself." “Not at all. Madame simply yielded to my persistence," Fedovsky said. “I should have been very sorry had the game turned out oth erwise. As it is, I may bid you adieu with a. light conscience; and I may hope—-with the pri00688* permission—to see you again. He bowed toward Vera as he spoke. She made no reply, and, though her face was turned upon him, it was expressionless and cold. Something had apparently offended her. Fedovsky could not imagine what it was. Was it that he had urged her to go away with him? That seemed impossible. The more, inasmuch as she herself had actually suggested the idea to him. Was she displeased because he had played in her house for such high stakes? That might be the case; and yet it would surely have been easy for her to have intimated as much beforehand. Or had his failure to divine the meaning of her “Beware!” offended her? All these questions passed through his mmd in a moment of time ( and left him as wise as he was before. ■»Ah, you shall be given your revenge un doubtedly,” Signor Strogello said; “for my part, I shall not be easy until you have had it. The princess is so kind and hospitable that I could almost affirm beforehand that she will let us assemble here again—is it not so charm ing lady?" „ . “I shall depend upon seeing all of you again —the sooner the better," returned the princess, with what appeared to Fedovsky an almost sarcastic formality. He had intended to find a pretext for remaining after the others had gone, or for coming at some hour when he might find her alone, but her manner discour aged him. It occurred to him, however, that he could write her a letter, in which he could enlarge upon topics of mutual interest and ask an explanation of her demeanor; and this pro ject partly consoled him for his discomfiture. He was the first to take his leave, and so per turbed had he been that it was only after he found himself in the cool, open air that he re membered that he had again lost his last franc, and that he would not be able to get any more until his remittances arrived. This was awkward, and, incidentally, it would stand in the way of his encountering his new friends the next evening at the princess’. Moreover, his bill at the hotel must amount to 1,000 francs or more, and there was no telling how soon it might be presented. The idea of being dunned for a bill that he could not pay was new to Fedovsky, and amused and an noyed h’w at the same time. Fortunately, there were several millions yet to be drawn on, and his poverty was only for the moment. He was determined to be caught in no such tight place again. He would go to America at the first opportunity, and, before going, he would make a fresh and resolute effort to persude Vera to go with him, and he felt confident that he would succeed. He was not destined to remain much longer in this condition. On going to his rooms he found Tom awaiting him. “Glad to see you back, sir,” said the faithful valet. “The letters have come, sir." ■ “The letters? What letters?” "The letters with the money in them, sir.” “Already? “Why, that’s impossible! They can hardly have received my letters yet. It ust be something else.” ‘They’re from the agents, anyhow, sir,” re- ned the other. “You can see that for your- by the handwriting on the envelopes.” fedovsky looked at them. Certainly they 're from his agents; but they were posted on ub same dav that he wrote to them. It was an minima 1 thing for them to address him except at stated seasons, or in reply to communica tions from him. There must be some special news. What could it be? He sat down, opened one of the letters and began to read it. Tom, who was quietly ob serving him, saw his face change almost at once. He set his lips, his brows lowered and the blood gradually forsook his cheeks. As he read on, slight twitchings and contractions passed across his features. He finished the first letter, laid it down without any remark and then took up the other, which he opened with impassive deliberation. He read it through more rapidly than the other, and then placed it also on the table. After sitting in si lent thought for a few minutes, he took a ciga rette and lit it and turned to his valet. “Tom,” he said, “when did I pay you your wages last?” “First of the month, sir. Two weeks back.” “Have you any of them left?;’ “That I have, sir. The whole of ’em.” “I’m glad to hear it. I may not be able to pay you any more for some time to come. And meanwhile, my good fellow, you will have to look out for another place.” “Me, sir? Not if I knows it. Beg pardon, sir, but I don’t go into any service but yours. If you’re suited, I am; wages no object. What’s wrong, sir?” “Why, these letters tell me that I haven’t a copeck in the world that I can call my own. Both my estates have been confiscated by the government. I am accused—and found guilty, too, it seems—of plotting against the Czar, of treasonable language, of neglecting to report myself to the authorities, and of I don’t know what else. As to the neglect to report, there may be something in that; but I was given to understand that the authorities had consented to excuse me. At all events, here I am, no better than a detected swindler; for I have my hotel bill yet to pay, and I don’t know whether the contents of my trunks will satisfy the landlord’s claims. So, as I said before, you must be looking cut for another place. You can dPDend on me for giving you a good char acter." “It would be a pretty poor character I’d have if I was to leave here at a tine like this, sir," Tom replied, with an attempt to disguise emotion under a garb of cheerfulness, “As for the hotel bill, you needn’t bother yourself about that. I’ve money enough to pay it, and to take the two of us to America afterward— yes, and to make a show after we get there, too. We can get along without your estates, sir, never fear!” “You have money? Where did you get it?” “Why, I’ll tell you. sir. You may remem ber you cave me leave of absence the other night? Well, I didn’t tell you what I meant to do; but I’d set my mind on having a shy at the green cloth myself. I’d thought out a bit of a system that I wanted to try on. Well, the way it turned out, I didn’t get my system to work, for the reason that it was the table that the little ball was spinning on that I got onto ir'tead of the one with the cards. It was the first one that I come to, anyhow. I’d brought with me eighty francs to play with, but I had a five-franc bit in my waistcoat pocket, and thinks I, “I’ll have a go with that first, just for luck.” So I put it down on a red place, and the fellow spun the little ball, and up came rc-d sure enough. “Well,” says I to my self, “what’s good once is good again,” so I just left the ten francs I’d won where it was, and it won again, and made twenty. “Come,” says I, “that isn’t bad neither, so I let it go again, and the next minute I was forty francs to the good. Well, twice fotty Iras eighty; istol to win that era the next throw, and if I lost it would bo but five francs at the worst; so I let it alone again, and the red came round again as regular as cock crow. By that time the folks was beginning to take notice, and a crowd of ’em was looking on. ‘This is my lucky day,’ thinks I; ‘let her go for all she’s worth.’ Red it was again, and that made six times in a row. ‘Will you stop now, Tom?’ says I. ‘Not if I knows myself,’ I says; and so the next spin fetched me up to three hundred and twenty francs. ‘You’re good for a thousand, Tom,’ I says; and what did I do but turn my back on the board till he’d spun the ball once more, and I was worth twelve hundred and eighty francs. With that somebody says to me, ‘Better take it up now,’ he says, 'its won nine times, and there’s luck in odd numbers,’ he says. ‘Well, then,’ says I, ‘there’s more odd numbers besides nine,’ I says, ‘and I’ll let It stay where it is.’ ‘You’ll j lose it,’ he says. ‘Will you bet on it?’ says I; but before he coidd make up his mind to it red came again, and twenty-five hundred and sixty francs with it. ‘I’ll bet you five hundred francs against fifty you lose the next turn,’ says he. ‘Done,’ says I, and we put up the money; and you should have seen the crowd there was looking on, sir; and it’s my belief I might have got all the bets I wanted. Well, I was in that shape I couldn’t lose if I tried; and when the red turned up the next time, the crowd just hollered, and there was a woman fainted dead away in her chair. What did I do but put the five hundred I’d won from the fellow down on the red along with the rest, and that made five thousand six hundred and twenty francs; and, says I, out loud, ‘that’s my last stake, ladies and gentlemen,’ says I, ‘and if I win I’ll give the odd two hundred and forty francs to the gen tleman here that spins the ball,’ I says. So at that they gave a laugh, and the fellow he spun the ball with an extra twist, and round she went, and we all looking on like the eyes would pop out of our heads; and the thing be gan to slow up, and the chap I’d betttod with sang out, ‘It’s black,’ he says. ‘Wait a bit till she stops,’ says I; and just then she turns into the red and stays there. WeU, sir, I raked in my cash, and says I, ‘That’s good enough for me, ladies and gentlemen; I ain’t no hog; here’s my place for any one that wants it.’ And I give the old croupier the two hundred and forty I’d promised him, and the other eleven thousand I stuck in my pockets and off I went; and some of ’em gave me a hurray. That’s my yarn, sir, and as things turned out the only mistake I made was not putting down my whole eighty francs instead of the five in my waistcoat pocket.” Tom told this story with so much zest and animation that the effect was irresistible, and Fedovsky almost forgot his troubles while he listened to him. As the valet concluded he thrust his hands into his pockets and produced several large wads of bank notes which he spread out on the table. “There,” said he, “that ain’t a million, but it’s money as far as it goes, and it’ll take us to New York and give us a start when we get there. It’s all yours, sir, provided only you’ll take me along with you, and glad I am of the chance of giving it to you.” * “Well, Tom," said the count, after a few minutes’ silence, “I will take the money, not as a loan, but as a free gift from one man to another. I don’t know that I shall ever be able to make you any return for it. But we will go to America, where all men are equal, and you and I will be friends. We have done with master and servant. If I meet with any good fortune there you shall share it as I now share yours. Though, to tell the truth, I think it much more probable that you will make a living there than that I will, for you can turn your hand to anything, whereas I am abso lutely good for nothing.” “We can do better together, sir, than what either of us could alone,” returned Tom, with cheerful confidence. “It’s just as easy mak ing money as it is spending it, though at first it may not come in quite so fast as it used to go out, but to make up for that there’s more fun in making ten dollars than in spending a hundred. What you want, sir, is to get a place as corresponding secretary of a corporation, or foreign clerk to a bank, or maybe you’ll get into politics, and then there’s no telling where you’ll stop. And you’ve met American swells enough in Europe to give you all the lift yon need.” “People who are very obliging when one is rich are not always the same when they know that one is poor," Fedovsky replied, with a touch of the worldly wisdom which he has al ready beginning to feel would be required in his future career^ “but we’ll try everything, and perhaps something may turn up a success. I shouldn’t wonder if Mr. Willis could give me some good letters of introduction to New York people. It might be worth while to ask him.” ... “Begging your pardon, sir, before you do that l’a like to ask^ou a question,” said Tom, with a peculiarly sagacious look. “This even ing, a little while after you went out, I was looking out of the window, and I saw you passing by arm in arm with a gentleman with a brown mustache. Was that your Mr. Wil lis?” “Yes.” “And do you remember my telling you about a chap in New York, who kept a place on Fourth street and did me out of some money?” “Well, what of it?” "And that I had seen somebody here that put me in mind of him, only he’d shaved off his beard and was got up in swell style?” “You don’t mean to say ” “I mean to say that your Mr. Willis is the man I’m talking about! I’ll bet a napoleon to a franc that he’s my swindler, and I wouldn’t be surprised, sir, if he was after you for a big haul; and?if so, no one will be sorrier than he to hear the news in them letters of yours!” This suggestion was so bewildering to Fe dovsky that, for several moments, he was un able to make any reply to it. “Its preposterous and incredible,” he ex claimed at last. “You have made a mistake, depend upon it. Why, Willis from the very first advised me to let gambling alone. Be sides ” “It’s natural he should want to keep you out of the Casino so that he might get all you had to throw away for himself. Those fellows spot a man and find out all about him before they speak to him. And then they offer to in troduce him to some very nice people, friends of theirs; and you go to a house and meet a gang, and then one of ’em proposes a little game of cards, and yon are agreeable, of course; and at first you win; but after a while the stakes are raised a bit, and then you lose; and you’re lucky if you get away with a penny in your pocket.” Tom had so accurately described the actual course of events that Fedovsky could not help feeling staggered for an instant; but he recov ered himself promptly. “The thing is impossible,” he replied em phatically. “And I will tell you the reason. Mr. Willis offered to introduce me to a lady “Ah! that’s what I thought—it’s the regular game!” muttered Tom, shaking his head. “And this lady," continued the other with a severe glance, “turned out to be some one whom I already knew, but had lost sight of for several years—a lady for whom I feel the high est regard and affection. I don’t suppose you will tell me that she is a partner of swindlers? But it was at her house that I spent the even ing; and it was there that I lost at cards—en tirely by my own fault and volition—all the money I happened to have with me. You have been misled by some accidental resem blance.” “Well, sir, if you know the lady, and can answer for her, of course I’ve nothing to say to the contrary,” Tom replied. “But that don’t prove that Willis ain’t my man. He may have taken in the lady, too. Anyway, it might be just as well if you don’t ask him to give you letters of introduction. He’s only somebody you picked up in a gambling town, after all.” Fedovsky made no promise; but he followed his valet’s counsel nevertheless. And the more he thought over what has passed between them, the less comfortable did he feel. Except that it was at Vera’s house that the episode of the game of poker had taken place, he would have had little difficulty in accepting Tom’s theory. That fact was his only security; but was even that conclusive? He had seen or heard nothing of Vera for seven years. He knew that she had married a thief. As re garded her subsequent marriage with the prinoe he had only her'own word'for fu She had spoken to him of some trouble—some mysterious bondage—under which she was suffering, and from which she even feared to escape. Might not this bondage involve some thing of a criminal nature? Indeed, could it be anything essentially innocent and harmless? Might not Willis have acquired some hold over her whereby he could compel her to assist him to his schemes of plunder? And then, what- was the meaning of her strange behaviorfted of the word “beware” that one had conveyed to him? Was she trying to protect him from a danger which she did not venture more fully to explain? These reflections made him very uneasy, and he made up his mind to go to her the next day, open his mind to her freely; and prevail upon her, if his surmises were correct, to leave it all and accompany him to America. Bat fate was too nimble for him. When he went to her house the next day he found it elo and learned that- the Princess Jolgorouki left town early that morning, and'had ap pointed wrmrne for her return. Neithea^Willia no^Bgnor Aid Mme. Striigello Arf to fo#d anywhdre j. JB%uiry n they,- too, hacKgdhq away, no one whither. It had an unpleasant look; but Fed- ovsky kept his misgivings to himself. CHAPTER VHI. About a month after the incidents recorded in the last chapter, two passengers from Eu rope by an Antwerp steamer landed in New York. One of them was a young and well- bnilt man, a little above the medium height, w.th soft, very dark hair, curling over his head, a pale but healthy complexion, dark brown eyes, and rather high cheek bones. He was a handsome man, or, perhaps, he would be better described as fine-looking; there was a composed manliness in his expression very different from the self-satisfied and conscious air of a youth who prides himself upon regular features and a waxed mustache. This gentle man’s upper lip was clean shaven, but the lines of his mouth were firm and well set, and needed no veil to enhance or disguise them. He was dressed in a plain but well-cut suit of tweed, with a traveling cap of the same mate rial; he carried a leather valise in one hand and a stout walking stick in the other. At the moment we first see him he was standing on one of the ferryboats that play between New Jersey and New York, and he was eyeing with much attentiveness the aspect of the great city toward which the boat was carrying him. His companion was another type of man al together. He was two or three inches shorter than the other, and broad in the shoulders; his hair was cropped short, and was slightly griz zled; he wore a short stiff whisker on either side of his broad, good-humored and intelligent face, and he was dressed in a cutaway coat of dark material and a pair of drab, close-fitting trousers. He, too, carried a valise and a bun dle of canes, umbrellas and shawls. He occa sionally pointed to some prominent building or other object in the city, and spoke a few words to the dark-haired gentleman. “That there Brooklyn bridge must be pretty nigh finished by this time," he remarked. “But we can’t see it from here. It’s on the other side of the island.” “Where is the Fifth Avenue Hotel?” the other inquired. “Oh, that’s away off—miles up. We can go there by the elevated road; it’s running now, I’m told. But there ain’t no hurry, sir; our trunks won’t get up under two or three hours, and, being a fine day, we can walk and take a look at the town. We caa send our valises ahead by the express.” "That will suit ma capitally. The Fifth Av enue Hotel is the one to stop at, is it?” “Yes, sir. That’s where the swells go. “We mustn’t forget economy, Tom. The better we live, the shorter our time will he. We came over in the steerage, and it’s hardly consistent to go from there to the best hotel in New York.” “Never mind how we came over, sir; that’s over and done with. No one can tell from the look of os that we didn’t take the first cabin, and sleep in the captain's berth. This country is like the others—if you want to get on you’ve got to put your best foot foremost. What you want is to go where you’ll meet the gentlemen that you used to hob-nob with on the other side. When they see you looking in good shape, and living in style, they’ll think noth ing is too good for you, and they’ll be having you to dinner and to the clubs, and it won’t cost you nothing. Then you let ’em know that you’re tired of loafing, and are on the lookout for something to do, and a dozen of ’em will offer you any job you want; and you’ll be rich again in good earnest before you know it. But if you was to put up at a fourth-rate house, and go slouching about in a shop suit of clothes, you might Lave more cask in yonr pocket, bat it wouldn’t carry you a quarter as far. They’d see you was down on your luck, and they’d give you a wide berth. No, no, sir; cheek is tne thing to carry yon through in New York; they may talk about their demo cratic institutions, bat they ain’t mnch use to a man unless he knows how to take his own part and keep a stiff upper lip.” “I have every confidence in your wisdom, Tom,” replied the other with a smile; “but I have great doubts as to my own fitness to make much of a show on nothing. I’m afraid everybody will see through me at the first glance. They will know by some sort of in stinct that our total joint capital is $1,900, and if we spend only $10 a day—and I don’t see, on yonr system, how we can possibly spend less—that will all be gone in six months. But I fancy it will be safer to say that three months will see theqnd of it.” _ „ . , “Well, sir, and plenty of time, too,” re turned Tom, with undiminished optimism. “If we can’t start a fortune in three months in New York city, I’ll eat my hatl” With this the ferryboat arrived at its dock and the passengers walked ashore. Having disposed of their valises, they passed through the clamorous line of hack drivers, crossed a dirty and track-crowded street, and, turning into a narrower street running eastwards, soon found themselves on Broadway, an eighth of a mile or thereabouts below Printing House square. It was a day late in February, fine and cold. There had been a snow the day previous and the remains of it were still in the gutters, though the sidewalks were clean. The time was high noon and both sides of Broad way were filled with an active and hurrying crowd of people, while the roadway was noisy with doable lines of vehicles going in opposite directions. The horse railroad had not been laid down at this epoch. The shops, with their broad plate-glass windows and numerous signs, had a lively and prosperous appearance ; trade seemed to be thriving. It was a very dif ferent place from Antwerp, or, indeed, from any other city that the dark-haired traveler had seen. The spectacle was bewildering, but, at the same time, a stimulating one. Every one seemed to be so intent upon business, and in such haste to transact it, that the on-looker felt as if he too must have something of great and immediate importance to attend to; and insensibly quickened his pace for that pur se. The coutagion was in the air, and, :ethe frosty temperature, no one could be insensible to it. So the two companions pressed along at a swinging gait, and very soon found themselves abreast of the central post- office. Here the younger man came to a halt. ‘I don’t know,” said he, “what we are in such a hurry about. We want to see the place, not to run through it; and besides, I am getting very hungry. Let us find a restaurant and get something to eat.” “We haven’t far to go for that,” the other replied. “Here’s the Astor House right behind us;" and he pointed to a large building of smooth, gray stone, with a flight of steps lead ing up to the entrance. People were constantly ascending these stops, and the swinging doors were in continual motion. Entering with the others, the travelers found themselves in a rec tangular hall with a staircase on each side of it and a double doorway at the further end, through which appeared a vision of eatables and eaters. They proceeded in that direction and went into a huge circular saloon with a glass roof. Round the walls were prolonged tables or counters, following the curvature of the room, and in the. center was a ring table some twenty feet or more in diameter, inside of which was a group of servers busUy engaged in helping the guests, who surrounded the outer circumference, to the viands they ordered. The wall tables were similarly served and pat ronized, and the floor space was thronged with people waiting for a vacant seat, and was treaded in all directions by waiters carrying or ders from one part of the saloon to the other. It waR a confused and tumultuous scene, and seemed suited to anything rather than to so grave and deliberate a ceremony as the eating of dinner. Yet It was here that thousands of New York business men dined, or, at any rate, lunched; and, so long as the food was good, never dreamed of taking exception to the hub bub amidst which it was served or to the haste with which it was gulped down. But certainly the quantity of eating material exposed to view, and the celerity with which it vanished, were alike remarkable. A huge, mounted mass of roast ribs of beef was placed upon the counter, the carver whetted his knife, a score of waiters presented plates, the knife descended, and lo! the beef was naught but a bare bone, and an other similar mountain arose in its place. Soups of all kindrattSed i& lakes for aminute or two, and theit the empty vats had to he re filled. Chickens and such small deer ' were swallowed up ere you could say “I want!” Acres of vegetables emerged into daylight one instant and were then engulfed. Pie of apple, mince and pumpkin, sufficient to cover a circle of thirty feet in diameter, was devoured in less than half aamany minutes. Oysters were con sumed by the whbie bed at a time. Coffee, ice water and beer rolled onward in endless waves and fell into the ever-yawning human abyss. It was an impressive, and indeed almost a sol emn sight; the eatables and drinkables were so good, they were annihilated so rapidly, and in the vast majority of cases they did to much barm to those who bolted them. But this is a free country, and every American citizen has a right to make himself the slave of dyspepsia. . Our two friends contemplated this spectacle i for a while inactively; in fact they - could not do otherwise, inasmuch as no places were va- oant for them to sit-dsern. Bat by .And by a couple of merchants descended frotn~the stools on whii ‘ in consumed Sluder an hour r SfJljSSfrf<h(d themselves away with whatapeedthey ‘might to the cigar stand in the doorwgy, where they provided themselves with a rank cigar apiece to counteract the pangs of their indi gestion. The newly disembarked strangers took their places, which were not immediately adjoining each other, but were separated by a seat occupied by a plethoric German, who was shoveling into himself the contents of a large dish of corned beef and cabbage, washed down by a bottle of Milwaukee lager. By the time they had been served with their order the Germ an-had cleaned np the last scrap of cabbage from his plate and had drained the last drop of his Milwaukee lager. As he left his stool a successor promptly popped into it in the shape of a brisk and enterprising-looking young fellow with his silk hat tilted back from his forehead and an evident determination to be back at his offiee in the shortest time on record. “Now, Jim,” he said to the capable Hiber nian in white dock who officiated on the other side of the ooun^r at that point, “yon’ve got to jump if yonflpant that quarter. I’ve got jnst three minntAT Boiled mutton, caper sauce, mashed potatoes, dressed salad, mince pie, cheese, cap of coffee. Look sharp, now!” “All right, ML Vanderblick,” replied he of the white garmdRfcr, and he called out part of the order to one of the errant servitors, filled the rest himself from the materials at his dis posal, and succeeded in setting the complete repast before his guest in a few seconds under one minute. Mr. Vanderblick was in the very act of opening a short, sharp and decisive cam paign when he was arrested by a voice at his elbow, calling him by name and asking him how he was. He looked around, dropped his knife, stared at the person who had addressed him for a mo ment, and then grasped his hand and exclaimed with a hearty vdice, “Why, Fedovsky, old man, how’s your health? Where did you come from? How long have yon been in tows? Glad to see you. How have you been since that evening at the Cafe Anglais, eh?" “We got here this morning,” said the Rus sian, whom the reader, possibly, will already have recognized. “We? Hullo! Not married, are you?” “He means m^sir,” put in a voice at the other elbow. “The count always has me with him. Tom Bolan, sir.” “Why, to be sure. You’re the fellow that put me into the hack and took me home that night after the bal masque. I owe yon a turn for that." “Not yon, sir; you tipped me five francs at the time, sir,” returned the valet with a broad grin. Well, by ginger, this is a lark!” exclaimed Mr. Vanderblick joyously. “Look here, count, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. Where are you 'DU y i^i|ER 8HI What one jsjrA'from truthful Tifs doubted, bnt whin transpires under one’s o' nose is gospel In this day of metempiric sciences and beliefs we hear no longer of the orthodox ghost—the raw-head and bloody bones that froze the warm current of onr young blocd. It is set down by some to he evidence of a weak and superstitions nature to incline spiritualism. If snch will explain upon any other ground the events which I propose to relate, he will have the thanks of all concerned. We hear tales of the supernatural located be yond onr ken or reach, and we give them, if not outright denial, at least the benefit of a doubt; but this story I have to tell happened in onr midst in Southern Georgia, in a little town which yon could locate at once if I should give yon its name. I could give yon also the real names of the actors, bnt who wants to drag the shortcomings of one’s friends before the pnblic? It is very pleasant to gossip onr theme socially, bnt let ns draw the line there. Think of the state of society if that kind of thing were tolerated; and when it comes to laying bare one’s co jstitntional peculiarities, who shall cast the first stone? In this little town of Wilford, with its streets outlined by green trees in which the birds built their nests and raised their familes with out let or hindrance from the small boy; where the cows grazed peacefully at will on the bits of grass springing luxuriantly here and there; where pigs held conventions, and goats roamed at large; where children were really children and grown people were jnst as kind, social, unpretentious and inquisitive as people always are in towns of that class, Mrs. Russell lived with her two sons and daughter. I said her two sons lived; one really lived and the other lived by proxy—his widow represented him. In reply to an invitation from the daughter to make her a visit, I was set down at the sta tion one lovely evening in October. I found myself at once in the exuberant embrace pecu liar to school girls, as a voice poured forth a flood of apology, out of which I fished such bits of information as this: Walter was the dearest boy and would have come with her, but his watch m’ssed time, and she was just too awfully sorry, and I was the dearest girl, etc. We had walked quite through the sleepy little town, been stared at kindly bnt inquir ingly by every one we met, when we at last stood before the Russell homestead. A quaint old house it was, lifted high above the street by a grassy terrace, at the foot of which a stone wall outlined the street. On the other side the river lay bland and smiling, into which the sun was slowly dropping, reddening the water, the bending sky, the beautiful clouds. I stood upon the stone steps leading np to the iron gate drinking in the beanty of the scene until, intoxicated, I was beginning to uB lost to surroundings; for stretching away into infinitude the hills of Beulah seemed to lie just beyond the mountain of tinted snow. “Has’nt society taken the romance out of you yet?” asked Belle. “1 was thinking how truly the Romans cangbt the spirit of beanty in their definition of it, 'multitude in unity’.” I replied. “I was thinking we ought to go forward and meet mama the stately, and Walter the re morseful.” Mrs. Russell was an admirable representa tive of ante-bellum aristocracy; a woman of decided opinions and a firm will to back them, as the square jaw and straight mouth testified. She gave me a greeting more cordial than ex pected, and as Walter made apology for appa rent discourtesy, a slim little figure draped in unrelieved black appeared at the open door—a pretty dark haired woman who won your heart on first sight by her tender appealing eyes and sweet tentative voice, like a canary bird just beginning to sing. “This is the wife of my son Charles,” intro duced the mother. I wondered who my son Charles was, and asked the question of Belle as we laid off our hats. “Ida’s husband, of course. Mama never uses the term widow; she says marriage is for eternity,” she explained. “Cela depend. How about uncongenial ones?” “Ask her. I don’t plunge into water be yond my depth. I let hypnotism, metemphy- schosis, spiritualism and the like severely alone. I am as orthodox as ever Lather conld desire. Bat I have an opportunity of investi gating spiritual phenomena in my immediate neighborhood if I liked.” “A professional trickster?” “So far from it that the girl herself protests against an exhibition of her powers, both on account q£hsi .abhorrence of notoriety, and her relaxed condition after a seance. She is not a trance medium, but she has simply the power of clairvoyance and prophecy." As we sat on the gallery the next morning, with the mellow sunshine falling around us, indulging in that phase of communion of spirit known only to re-united schoolmates, Walter and Ida passed oat on their way to the river. He carried himself with the free grace of per fect health and thorough training. A familiar bough swept his light hat from his head. Bra- no, following his master, immediately seized and made off with it. Then what a royal chase they had! “Walter is so good to her,” said Belle, tak ing up my thread of thought. “She was crashed, as we all were, by the death of Charles a year ago. For months she was inconsolable, and seemed to take no pleasure in any society except that of Walter. And how devoted he is! I suppose she feels almost as if he were Charles himself. Mamma thinks their affec tion so beautiful.” “I suppose she will marry again.” If I had advanced the probability of her com mitting murder or theft Belle could not have looked more aghast. “Marry! Never! Her heart is in the grave of her husband. Besides, mamma would never forgive her. Charles was her idol She would not allow Ida to return to her own home after his death, and it is very sweet of her to stay with us.” “It is fortunate you do not live in India. With what gusto you would perform suttee.” “Yon don’t think one ought to marry more than once?” Any number of times—legally.” I beseech yon not to air such rank heresy in this house unless yon wish to emulate Sam son. Yon would offend mamma beyond re demption. In woman in general, and Ida in particular, she would esteem such an act a mild form of bigamy.” As she spoke a young girl came over the stile across the lawn, her flaming white dress and broad morning hat making a picturesque addi tion to the picture framed in by the clustering vines. “Julia Howard, the clairvoyant,” said Belle in the same tone in which she would have said a ghost. “She is our nearest neighbor, you see, and is one of the sweetest girls in the world.” Her face certainly endorsed the description. Tbere was no special perfection of face in the whole—the hair was brown, the nose straight, the mouth sensitive; but the eyes—brown, lu minous, shining like stars away down in the water, introspective, magnetic—they held me at once. By that law that operates no less surely in the spiritual than in the physical world, she drew me to her. I felt this as soon as my eyes met hers. She came forward to meet me as in the renewal rather than the be ginning of an acquaintance. “We shall be friends,” she said as our hands met. Expecting the oracle of Delphi, I was not prepared for conventionalities. “Yes, I seem to have known you before—in a previous state of existence perhaps; who knows?” I said. “I have an affinity for yon,” she returned, smiling. “And it is quite pleasant to meet one who understands this intuitively. To explain it is like having to show up the point in one’s own pun." “Perhaps I am mediumistic.” “You are. Persons affect me differently. Some exhaust me; from others 1 draw inspira tion. Now you affect me like a draught of wine.” When she had gone, Bell said: “Nora, you have certainly made a conquest." “Affinity,” I explained. “I never saw her so unreserved before.” n 8tudy psychology. But how dfif she dis cover her power?” “She did not discover it; i$ grew with her growth and strengthened with her years. She ‘saw things,' as her nurse expressed it. When they lived in A and Julia was about six years old, Bhe was observed to be playing about the yard one day in great glee as if with an other child. This continued for two or three days, when, on being asked with whom she was playing, she replied: “The little girl with the white apron. Don’t you see her?” One morning she ran to her mother in a passion of grief declaring that the little girl was gone— gone away for good—the little girl with the white apron—she was gone right around the comer. In vain was the premises searched. No child was found—none had been seen; but, strange to say, the house was soon after stopping, by the ‘I am on my tel," said Fedovj “Stupid hole a day or two. I here you com! ay?” to the Fifth Avenue Ho- you something better in t, look here, when we leave with me to the office, and I’ll fix np things there in short order. Then we’ll take the L up town, and I’ll pnt you down for a fortnight at the club. By the way, how long do yon mean to stay here?” “Several months; perhaps longer.” “That’s all right. Well, we’ll have an after noon at the club and meet Borne of the boys there. I guess there are two or throe that you met on the other side; and then we’ll adjourn to Del’s and have a feed. After that there’s any theatre yon like, or anything else for that matter. What do you say? Come onl” The speaker had by this time finished his lunch, and though his two friends were still in the sarlier stages of theirs, they also got down from the’r stools. Tom, at his own suggestion, was dispatched up town to the hotel to await the arrival of the baggage and engage the rooms, and Fedovsky and Mr. Vanderblick were left to themselves. The latter produced a cigar case containing some huge cigars, very fat in the middle and tapering at both ends, one of which he insisted upon his friend taking, while he stuck another in the comer of his own month. He then led the way to the street, Fe dovsky following, with some interior misgiv ings, which Tom’s covert wink at parting had failed entirely to dissipate. Evidently Vander blick imagined that he had come to America to spend money and enjoy himself; and it might become necessary, some time or other, to have a mortifying explanation on the subject. [to be continued.] i Budget] Together they walked on a bright mooi Two hearts beating quickly and eyes shli He with a face that was manly and bold. She with her tresses of glimmering gold. Talking and planning what things shall be done, When came the day tney two shall be one; Calmly the gray moon watches them now— Softly caresses and touches each brow. ‘‘I wonder," she said, with Innocent guile, ‘ ‘ g smile, ‘Be angry I No matter whatever yon do, 1 never Indeed could be angry with yon. “Although.” and he looked In her face flashing red, “I’ll scold if yon wish It,” he roguishly said. “I don’t like scolding, especially from men; I hope yon won’t dolt,” she answered; “but then If ever I need It,” she lowered her head, “I hope that you kindly will cheequa me Instead.” In the front parlor, 11 p. m.—Ethel—“Harry called to-night, papa. He was too witty for anything and all smiles.” Papa—“Yes; I can smell the smiles yet.” • « * Premature decline of power in either sex, however induced speedily and per manently cured. Book lor 10 cents in stamps. World’s Dispensary Medical Association, 603 Main street, Buffalo, N. Y. A sentence from the lately published letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montague: “I own I enjoy vast delights in the follies of mankind, and, God be praised, that is an inexhaustible source of enjoyment.” I have been a{i annual sufferer from Hay Fever for 40 years. It recurring about Aug. 20th each year. For several summers I have used Ely’s Cieam Balm with excellent results. I am free from any Asthmatic symptoms. I hope many sufferers will be induced to try the remedy. GEORGE EARP, Baltimore, Md. I have been afflicted with Hay Fever from early in August until frost. My eyes would run a stream of water and I sneezed contin ually. I was advised to use Ely’s Cream Balm. It has worked like a charm and I can say I an entirely cured. Mrs. F, ME LINE JOHNSON, Chester, CL “Does the Screamer indorse Mush Jones for Congress?” asked one gentleman of another in inquiring about the political situation of a cer tain town. ‘Oh, yes,” was the reply, “the paper in dorses him. It’s a sort of mutual affair.” “How’s that?” “Why, you see, the paper indorses Jones and Jones indorses for the paper.” And there are a good many “independent” newspapers ran about the same way." Consumption, Scrofula, General Debility, Wasting Disease of Children, Chronic Coughs and Bronchitis, can be cured by the use of Ssott’s Emulsion oi Pure Cod Liver Oil with Hypophosphites. Prominent physicians use it and testify to its great value. Please read the following: “I us8d Scott’s Emulsion for an obstinate Cough with Hemorrhage, Loss of Appetito, Emaciation, sleeplesness, &s. All of these have now left, and I believe your Emol- sion has saved a case of well developed Con sumption.”—T. J. Findley, M. D., Lone Star, Texas. _ Jongs thinks his girl the pride ol earth— He pictures her In glowing colors And loves her lor her modest worth— Said to be thirty thousand dollars. Wretched, !■*£■*, .. -h •Are those whom a confirmed tendency to bU- - iousness, subject to the various and change ful symptoms indicative of liver complaint. Nausea, sick headache, constipation, flnred tongue, an unpleasant breath, a dull or sharp pain in the neighborhood of the affected or gan, impurity of the blood and loss of appe tite, signalize it as one of the most distress ing as it is one of the most common, of maladies. There is, however, a benign spe T cific for the disease and all its unpleasant manifestations. It is tho concurrent testi mony ol the public and the medical profes sion, that Hostetler’s Stomach Bitters is a medicine which achieves results s]iecdily felt, thorough sndlienign. Besidesrectifying liver disorder, it invigorates the feeble, con quers kidney and bladder complaints, ami hastens the convalescence of those recovering from enfeebling diseases. Moreover, it is the grand speciiic for fever and ague. rntt yon her asleep burned, and in digging the foundation for an other the bones of a female child about that age was found in the exact spot where JuJia declared, the little grl had disappeared. The (fiffid: mast hwmbe®, ibmded itheow tofoKhtteri iWa.lwM*l«M« original house wae-hajlt, yeare-gqpeijinJact ao-j-qpre, «%• M 0 *? long ago that no one remembered* anytmng definite about it! I had spent three weeks very pleasantly with the Rnssells, when, one morning, in order to bring in view a little island some distance down the river, I took a field glass and looked onL It brought something else within range of vision—something 1 had seen, a mere speck upon the water, but could not define. It was a boat, and in the bow—with oars at rest and a face while and eager with the intensity of suspense—sat Walter Russell. His gaze was fixed upon Ida, who sat with flashed face and downcast eyes, a book dropping idly from her heedless fingers. Bnt as I looked, for one swift moment, her eyes were raised, her lips moved, and over his face flashed the triumphant glory of a snnbnrsL It was a revelation to me. I dropped the glass guiltily. I had unwittingly entered into the arcana. Before I had recovered my equilibrium, Belle came in to say that she had kdaced Julia Howard to give us a seance. I did not let her know that this wonderful girl bad already told me with astonishing accuracy of my past and present, and I might add fu ture, for many things which she told me of, have since been verified. I had been anxious for a seance, but a reluctance amounting to opposition, on the part of Walter, had hereto fore prevented. After tea we sat down, Wai te', Ida, Belle and I, and formed the regula tiou circle by each touching a hand to the right and left, but not touching onr own. Mrs. Russell sat apart reading, and Julia, with head thrown back in easy position, eyes closed, and hands qnietly folded in her lap, swayed gently to and fro in a rocker by my side. We all felt a cool current passing over onr hands, and I experienced that lightness of body—that sen sation of going up, up, peculiar to the inhala tion of ether, as if the spirit were seeking to shake off its cumbersome flesh. Julia shivered slightly and began to yawn. “I see,” she said dreamily, and as her voice broke the silence, Walter flashed back a look of encouragement to Ida in answer to her ap pealing one, and I felt her hand tremble nnder my touch. “I see a young girl towards whom two young men press. Neither sees the other, though they ran side by side; there is a veil between them; she holds ont her hands with a smile—each thinks it is for himself. Now t.he dark-haired one stops an instant; they are al most within reach of the goal; the veil is rent; he sees the other—it is his brother! He turns away and the elder wins the pnze, but the girl looks longingly after the dark-haired lover.” Ida’s fingers began to grow cold under my own, but Walter gave no sign. “I see a marriage, a great rejoicing—then a death; he was so young to die! But here is the dark-haired lover again. Ah, he will be more successful this time. What is this—a funeral? No, a marriage; but everything is black, black. Oh, what trouble! what clouds! what storms!” “What then?” It was Walter’s voice, so ate u and hard that it startled me. “Marriage.” “And then?” “Death, shrouds and coffins—two of them.” “Oh, death of course," put in Belle, flip pantly, “that is the end of all things. What more natural than clouds and storms after marriage? That outline might suit aay of us, but to which does it apply?” Julia’s face now assumed a look of auger. “The eldest brother is not satisfied; he is angry. Ida’s hand shook convulsively; mine closed upon it assuringly. ‘But,” persisted Belle, “is it I? Is it Nora?” “The girl is dark-haired ” “That scores us out, Nora,” “Poor girl! in her widow’s weeds and woes, and more to come.” “What! Ida?” exclaimed Belle, as Walter sprang to his feet. Then the truth seemed to burst upon her with the vividness of lightning. “Oh,” she cried shudderingly, as one does nnder a shower-bath, “Walter!” and stretched out both arms to him. Mrs. Russell laid her book down and rose to her full height ‘This nonsense has been carried far enough,” she said, sternly. “Miss Howard, I scarcely expected insult in return for hospital ity.” “I am no more responsible for what I have described than yon for your dreams,” Julia answered calmly. “I am sorry to tell you dis agreeable things.” “Mother, remember Miss Howard is an in vited guest,” interposed Walter, before she could speak again. ‘And yon remember yonr dead brother. Dare yon do this thing?” she returned. “Dare?” his lip curled. “Yes, in the face of heaven and earth. “Ida,” and he started forward jnst in time to catch her light form as p*ie fainted quite away. He bore her at once to her own room, which happened to be next to the parlor in which we sat, bent over her one moment, kissed her and went ont, closing the door, saying to me as he did so: “Take care of her.” My care was demonstrated by the applica tion of all stimulants within reach. The effect was rapid. She opened her eyes and burst out hysterically: “Oh, I can tell you all abont it; you won’t think me wicked, because—because it was all true, he did love me before—before ” “Don’t distress yourself—you are not wicked at all,” I said patting my arms around her. Marry the man yon love though the heavens fall, if there is no greater reason per contra than that he is your brother-in-law." All this time the battle in the next room waxed and waned. It was Mrs. Russell’s voice that now rose in the air, distinct and deter mined. “But for this absurd state of things yon might have married Miss ” I thought I canght my own name,—“and so have restored the fallen fortunes of yonr hoose. If yon per sist, as I know you will, in marrying your brother’s wife yon must find another home than this, where every spot is hallowed by his memory. No wonder his ghost is indignant. If human acts can call spirits back to earth, his will surely come.” “If he should,” was the bitter response, “he might inform yon that bnt for him she would now have been wife. But mother, with dne respect to you, I shall certainly marry Ida. I shall make this my home—what other have I? And is it not my own? I shall not claim for her a mistress’ authority, but I shall a daugh ter’s love and consideration.” In less than a week they were married. It was a very quiet affair, indeed quite funereal for, with the refinement of malice, the condi tion of invitation exacted by Mrs. Russell of her guests was that they should all appear in black. This Belle told me at we were dress ing for the marriage. “And,” she added, “mamma requests that you should wear black also.” “I shall do no such thing,” I replied decid edly. “It is a perfect shame. Just as if that poor girl were going to commit a crime! I beg your pardon, Belle, I must exercise my mind this once if I die for it.” “I think as you do, Nora, but for me there is no appeal,” returned Belle, shaking out her black silk. “I suppose if I had a crape dress I should have to wear it.” My sense of the ridiculous was fortunately mastered by my sense of injustice when I en tered the parlor. There sat the guests ranged around the room with puritanical precision and rigidity—their somber robes matched by their doleful faces. I involuntarily looked around for the corpse and as involuntarily burst into a laugh. An answering gleam for a moment flickered over the faces of some, but as quickly died out. • As Mrs. Russell bent on me a look of severe reproof and indignation the door opened and Walter and Ida entered alone. He held his chin a trifle in the air but when he took in with a keen swift comprehen sive glance the signification of the scene before him, he bent for one instant to whisper some thing to Ida, the tender import of which, the quick flush on her face revealed. The minister arose to meet them and in a few solemn words made them man and wife. The ceremony ended, Walter threw one quick glance toward his mother. There they stood alone—the guests waiting for the mother, the mother immovable. Belle turned away and hurst into tears. - With a how of dignified ac ceptance of the situation, Walter was turning to leave the room when I conld bear it no lon ger. Regardless of everything but the cruelty and injustice of the whole proceeding, I rushed across the room and threw my arms about the slim white figure, and from my full heart burst the benediction: Six months later I received a black-edged letter from Belle. “Nora,” she wrote, “yon know we lost poor Walter a month ago with typhoid fever, now "nch things can be, 4 <lay when we thought _Jeep she suddenly opened her eyes with a look of glad surprise and stretching ont her LZ:cried ont joyfully, ‘Oh! Walter ’ and died. Oh, Nora, do yon think she really saw him?” The Pair Type-Writer. [Journal of Education.] She clicks the keys And she tinkles the bell With a practiced ease No tongue would tell. Her nimble Angers fly— And I? WeU, I sit by And I watch the girl So sweet, so sby. And my brain’s a-whlrl. For I love her tenderly— And she? Well, she tinkles the beU And she clicks the keys, And If I should teU My love, she’d freeze My blood with a scornful “Top!” Eheut ‘What is more lovely than a peaceful grand mother?” asks an exchange. Her granddaugh ter. If this is not the right answer, we give it up- A novel under the curious name of “The Wasp" is just published. It must have a bad ending. _ A seaside letter tells of bathing suits that fit like the paint on a board. Pug dogs are going out of fashion, and their naturally sad expression is deepening. He had evidently studied history. She—“Freddie, how often have I told you not to play with your soldiers on Sunday?” He—“Yes; but, mamma, this is a religious war.” The Bravest Battle. [Josquln Miller.] The bravest battle that ever was fought, 8haU I tell you where and when? n the maps of the world ’ ' ” “" ’Twas fought by the moti Ou the maps of the world you will find it not; ._ . ... lt £ e not with cannon or battle-shot, hers of men. Nav, no With sword or nobler pen; Nay, not with eloquent word or thought From mouths of wonderful men! But deep In a walled-up woman’s heart, Of woman that would not yield, But bravely, silently bore her part— Lo. there Is that battle Held I No marshaling troop, no bivouac song, No banner to gleam and wave; Bnt oh 1 these battles! they last so long— From babyhood to the grave. ’ said “What I dislike about the large hotels,’ Miss Culture, “is their gregariousnes.” “Well,” responded the Chicago maiden, rather bewildered, “those fancy puddings never did agree with me either.” “This base ball most be dreadful! Little Willie jnst now confessed to that he had actually stole a base, and now, I suppose, he is going to try and steal another one!” “Swim? Not a bit, stranger, bnt I rtek on if ye’d drap me down in the middle of this hyar river, I’d reach land ’theughtmnch diffikeltv.” “Why, how so?” “Wall, I carcalate I’d go right to the bot tom.” Jack Blunt once loved a maid whose hair With terra cotta might compare. “My heart beats bat for yon,” he said, “No matter if yonr hair Is red— With me the color has no heft;” And he got left" Ueorge Smoothly later came to woo. Said he, with pasilon tender, true, “I love yon, and all that Is yon; Those locks of dainty, golden hair. The sunlight kissed and Angered there— I’d give my all for one wee carL" He got the girl. “Do yon know what Bill Jones said about you the other day? asked a Texan of an ac quaintance. “No; can’t say that I do.” “He said that you are the dumdest liar he ever came across.” “He did? He said that?” “He jest did.” “An’ he never met me only jest a little while in Tompkins’ saloon last Saturday." “That’s all, I reckon.” “Great Scott! I wish he could have heard me some time when I was tryin’.” “Ma, de fiziology say yer dat de human body am imposed of free-fourth watah.” “Waal, yo’ bettah mosey off to school, an’ git outen dat hot sun, ur fus ting yo’ know yo’ be vaporatin’.” “I say,” said the smart little son of a coun try printer who had just started a local paper, as he entered a shop in the town, “do you keep knives?” “Oh, yes,” responded the shopkeep er, “we’ve kept them for years!” “Well,” remarked the boy starting from the door, “you ought to advertise, and then you wouldn’t keep ’em so long." FITS: All Fits stopped free by Dr. Klines’ Great Nerve Restorer. No Fits after first day’s use. Marvelous cures. Treatise and 2.00 trial bottle free to Fit cases. Send to Dr. Kline, 931 Atch St. Phila. Pa. “God bless yon Ida, and make yon happy. I know He will.” By a brave effort she kept back the tears as she returned my caress, but she did not speak. Walter touched my lips gratefully with his own saying: “God b.ess yon." Of course after such an overt act I could not remain longer a guest of the Russell’s, so the next morning, shaking the dust from my feet I departed homeward. PIEDMONT EXPOSITION, ATLANTA, GA.—Oct. 10 to 22,1887. The Georgia Pacific By., via Birming ham Quickest Route. No change of cars from Texas, Louisiana and Mississippi to Atlanta, Ga. One fare round trip for points west of Mis sissippi River. One cent per mile from Columbus, Miss., and intermediate points to Atlanta. Passengers from Texas should Ree that their tickets read via Shreveport or New Orleans and Birmingham to Atlanta, Ga. Mann Boudoir Sleeping Cars, New Orleans and Shreveport to Atlanta without change. For further information call on or address P. F SMITH, Pass. Agt., 34 St. Charles St., New Orleans, La. ALEX. S. THWEATT, Gen. Trav. Agt., Birmingham,'Ala. GEO. S. BARNUM, Gen. Pass. Agt. HAY FKYOCata-brH Is an inflamed eondltlor cf the lining membrane of the nostrils, tear-duct! and throat, affecting the lungs. An acrid muene is secreted, the discharge is accompanied wl'h t horning sensation. There are severe spasms ol sneezlDg,frequent attache of headache, watery anc inflamed eyes. CREAMBALM HAT-FEVER A positive Cure. A particle is applied Into each nostril and Is agreeable. Price BO cents at Druggists: bvmaU, registered, 60 cents. Circulars free. ELY BEOS., 577-yr Druggists, Oprego, N. X. aotr - radio Mlf ai -dofoi . • wif- •rxi
