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U ■i"JTJL &JJT3, r.STAni,ISITr.D 1820. Ithf Tel«*K r *P h Printing Co. PublUhcra. f MACON, GA., WEDNESDAY MORNING.NOVEMBER 5, 1890. j MVrlilj-.fl.ona Year. 1 |Single Coiij, t'iveifun.f .rut turf-ium- 0 MARIE’S TESTIMONY. r „. in ow rtre.il •« .pirwly p«opl*d: r m ,,rm lot th. gentl*i world to riik "Xuiioo, »hUe ilie “J«qu«” «d • ,'p?’ of CaLii we eating dinner, ;•* BiDning, or o'berwise taking ad- ll J *f iheir .11 too .tort hour ol r«L rfpiehat i, Blinding »i the duor ul X,,bop f.cioft the ou.y, U.tly con- Sf the slink .id .perkle ot the i. me lun.Wn.. , F“. t. se |f ii almoit dnerted. Here Pjj_ 7 ar e l.uga pile, ot merchandiw SSL far tbi ever,leg boat to Hotter. , , n boiee »od bartclj and trunk. „j,d orit, or, more prop rly, .lept Jto.lMjyoarg gunt clad m work- 5,V.e'»-‘i orer-.ll., hi. eye.pro- L<nu the Hm b 7 * cap, adorned by «AI hut:e, which it tilled over them. iVVpoQ thi. figure that Pere Pichaf. w,We finally *Ught» and Unger. till ton, Blaise Pich.t, who i .r«t»rd.r hen be n enrolled on leittwc Company V' books m porter and id eitchui.nr and doe. not Bl.uo thU proud promotion to hta (Per. excellent reputation as good Pare Pichat know, that' in .'ol finite', appartnt aomnul.ncy it i d i 1- e ide any v#graut tp r.aat covet- ,tei biion tb« “cutupanyV’ property. bi-b»d n the»e co graiulatory nfltfe- p, rr pi c hat is deaf t j a sudden com- \ which has ariseu a few doors away. i,e»r<ilie bhr*h »:nes of a woman’* tt0 ubly cilli g d twi curses on some , iin ut’j brad, aud punctuating every r, ’»comes the sou:, of a blow. The c of cursed and blows approachf** triad nearer until, euivghg from a Hreft, a s rang- g-m.p pr.stuL lt.elf ^ p.chai’a us ouieheil eyes. :a'I, mout worn tn clad in short red ,. uUck bof ice and dirty mob cap, iJ.ne lace iaflanted wi h wrath and— ,1, her right baud fl urishing aloft a iflird s itk. while with the leftrhe \ l-mly & blight, btrugg'ir.g, shrink- Lure upon whore lu it ess body the ‘[j*about o f*.l. A moaa-ntlater it a'd while worth/ Pere Pichat tciog up bis mind to interfere it rises h ! icural tinns, until a blow more ;a< ih <n tli ■ forrg dng ones elicit! a m i,l aagu aU from the tilth*rto silent i The Ncrcam awakes Blaise, and i in ot h he rprings to hL ft el; run- ;:o the worn.m, in- anatebea the whip uer luail and, rJe ai g her hold of And, ;> fees himself » e wren them. ),41 not warn thee, 1'onktie. to coase ;;!,e lit L one?” he errs veto- tv,facing the furious wornm, who da for a moment BDCeoblets in wrath- imixement. With * gsspsbe throws Kllowsul in n vain attempt to reach Ej, but ibis ticifc it is Pere Pichat imerpoMS. I;lj, softly, my good Toniette," he p?r»ua*ivdy. ‘‘Leave thou the child ■xpUio to me a little.” jj. tin rv.rieka the woman. “What, nu 1 -'I explain? It is to m* this devil belong*, i-t it not? Ab, the lit- ftf-»li*r f ih« not;rnti»f|i| nn» (” Her* i-tis, hiving thrivked htmlf into a [hi g fie, nop-*, perforce, to rrgain her i, |ltr<og meanwhile at ti e child ties which dumbly exp me the rkge IHihs would fain give khoy;Haring within "eSIeSKC i d im* • arms, meet* per g- ze nn- «crv. He h« soitliboy, this Jean 4 top, om him more than 6, though in tact 10; but except for that one laof pain he had made no other out- :sihr Ionic te’s violence. lie has not litrir, but the poor little mouth la in viih pain, for Toniettr’s blow* are » meats caresses, ami he feels himssif from head to her!. It is a pretty del- little face that g zsat Toniette io ; it has a firm chin, n Bad, lovely mjuih, grett blue eye* and a broad ! brow, our vbhich hangs a mass ol /Itlfxen curls. A steadfast, patient, Kidlike boy is this “little devil” ot kts’s. pik Toniette is recovering her breath Pichat questions Jean Marie aa to {*“• °I her not unusual violence, and *‘l® relatrs simply that the trouble corning is all about a chain and ft belonging to him (Jean Marie); his r f d huil « it around his neck just • »-ie went 11 live with the good Pere uitt. The brave little lad’s voice '•land his eye* fill with t.nra as he «n ti tell how lie had loved the tria- c f beautiful mother’s sake and ‘-viy* worn it round his neck until a ’•to, when one night while ho slept we had stolen and pawned it for a to buy absinthe. At first he “Ask Toniette what reata within the little heart. If she doe* not know, you will be Bure it is mine.” Pere Pichat haaten* to follow the child’s advice. At first bis interrogation is met with sullen silence by Tr ntette, but noting the bad *H-ct this had upon the self-con stituted judge, she finally hazards a guess. “Bah!” she says disdainfully. “It is a portrait.” Jean Marie, who, having staked ail upon lhL> cast, has been waiting her reply with breathless anxiety, now cries triumphantly: “No! not iti* not a portxait. It is bnt a little white flower. Is it cot true, Mooshur? - ’ Pere Pichat nods paternally and ex plains ti.at the heart contains a tiny 8wi*s Edelwn sj. As he explains he permits Jean Mnrie to draw the locket from his hand. Toniette, furiona at her defeat, struggles to free herself from Blaise’s grasp and reach the child, tin her captor retains his hold, and in another moment Jean Marie is llyiug down the street, his precious locket clasped dost*. Toniette curses and writhes in impotent rage, but it is not until the lad has dappeared from sight that Blaise lets her gu, laughing at her fury. Toniette at once proceeds to make search for her “little devil,” vowing ven geance as she goes. She will beat him, akin him, aud devote him to perdition gtnerai.-y. But, aa even the furious worntn realix a, a nectsiary preliminary to, cook- iug ycur bird in to c tch him, and Jt-an Marie has no xumd to be caught. lie is determined to escape forever from his boudsg^ and has taken full advantage of his atari iu the race. While Blaiso held Toniette he had hastemd, on fear-wing*d feet, tbr. ugh the winding streets ot the iitiie town to the now almoet-deaertei market place, and there, beneath a huck ster’* cart, coucealtd on ail sides by a miniature Alps in vtgctables, he nad found a si cure refuge. While Toniette conducts her fruitless search, alternately curbing her “little devn” and swallowing iioeral potations of atoiuthe, by way cf cordial to her wrath, the trcinoliug child lits safe in hi* vege table ntre-it. Fcr a time Jean Marie is too absorbed by fear to think cf aught cite; but alter an hour has passed—alter he has twice seen 'ionieite run raging through the market j hce without suspect- irg his retreat, a feeling r.f aecuri'r i drts j OBseision of him, ai d he h-gtns to p ud'.t of some plan ot esi ape fruni the town. Afttr some anxious thought the, lad’s ... ..... .... witr, rtnuerei prtt.rna urady keen by I hintself to the highly congenial tasc of About the same hour Toniette, in a caharet near by, overcome by recent pota tions and forgetful of her “ilttlo devil's” escape, fal's into a drunken stupor. Blais# has long since returned to his drowsy guardianship of “the company’s” property. While Pere Pichat has retired to the recesses of his dark Hftle den of brie a- brae: all the werld-J%ll the world that is of ji an Marls'* acquaintance—sleeps. The long hot hour* pass slowly; slowly the noonday glare softens and deepens into the warmer tints of at proaching sun set. The breeze has died out, and the waters of the channel lie calm and un- rutflod; a long, tremulous heaving of thetr sapphire deptbs the only sign of motion; and Calais awakes; Jean Marie awakes, full of fear that the seam-packet has come and gone, and hjutens to the quay. Pere Pichat resumes hta watchfulness, and the quay, eo silent tied deserted sn hour ago, is filled with a busy, noisy, gesticu lating crowd of townsmen. Only lVniette sleeps on, fathoms deep in a drunkard’s elysium. The Dover boat comca into sight and approaches slowlv. On its deck stands a Ivi of 20, a handiome, brown-eyed, curly- haired young fellow, clad in gray serge. 4 At his feet is a shabby portmanteau, on which is inscribed “II. W. Doyle, Dublin.” It scarcely needs thi-* address to reveal his nationality! The lad's lack of reserve, his gay good humor, dashed with more than a suspicion of shrewdness, and—hia brogue are one and all traitors to his identity. A year before th s August day Richard Whittington Doyle tuul found himself, on the deatn of Doyle, senior, the proud pos- *ea-or of a univers ty education, £10 in cash, and, what he himself called “i perfect beast of a name.” Theeb’er Doyle bad been owner, editor and sole contributor of a Derry newspa per, and Dirk managed t6 procure a letter of introduction to a London daily jonrnal. H*» pre -enttd i , waa favorably r«oeiv«d. at d became a member of the repor.orial stall. # Young Doyle brought to bis new avoca tion energy, unlimited audacity and a strong hpi gtf of humor. In addition he wrote with fluenay and rapidity, aU of whb h atuihutes promptly brought him Uvortbie notice, culminating in bis pres ent spp lintment as Paris correspondent This portion meant money in the present* fame iu the fu ure, and Dick Tovle had no intention of letting either esenpe him. At the prevent moment he has rceigmd to her passionately Lr comfort; bnt for t . the firi-t time in all bio little life she did J *.’ w ‘ e Pi but one day, by a great not heed him; abe slept to fast, so well, ^ had Uucd tl ie receipt for the'} she was so cold and s.ill that be could not p,which Toniette hid thrown away WB,rs> -. hioc# that hour, the child —7, i: ®Hy, he had saved every . ‘‘iu lie c( u’d earn in the few hours j*ovnu .1,03*1, but they were few; a r “Mmq a hor*e, a sou for runnirg ■•Uabou (-rrands; snmetimts the i. J WM fond of children, would •j?. * l *o-«ou piece. Jt was so alow. ^ , j , w » bul always he hoped, “ M4of praying “Notre P*re tux J* f . er :' 1 him brefd, he berought owed Jean Marie sour to buy back _ “ !I * locket. At last, after many l "° hnndred sou* were a. iDd early this very morning Jean ' ^’rtatliog jov had exchang’d T hh lr *oket. Ho had lingered *“• recovered treasure, ob- • • i tiie'te. Then, on returning /. **» n-jul dccmpa i ,n of nlodiog ° ,l *‘-3uMed guardian. ri... T f t '*“*’• trod** nirrcic., be- lo be .nil a.I^.p, i„ h .d four.d rfcV“r ,l - T "*l'l-* bi > °y n » ami. f nutsiion, aU( j mor . kit”?*'.' 01 '' s!l " 1*’^ dUcorirrd . .:.™ Ictuoud liatlt. bad lb. MHt. “"loidarKl bimlo gir.it *«reli bim. Ii. b.d if. l 1 * * drrp-r.liou of derpair. brui ^d shoulders, “Me voill n k!i, w *f* the question tec* -L- ? how to prove »which he himself believed to be b *'' h ‘ i.«i, J«u> V.rl.,” th. fif k °a kind),, maltinr fjk>.'d.i,h dflcul.T ab tre th. ** »> 1 ooi.lt.’. Toic., raiMd in •'Kn'ol.lloo. J..o Marie bf.i- k er , » gUnce at hi- friend »»r*rons aaent.be E-u U \ n . 1 T ^ rom hin his torn, S’* ® h *rt, a pret y g* ld * ff o i -n linktf.1 to.-Q'h fear,'. cvisc a way which preaen. 1 ’ .it least a prjbabili y of succeaa the evening boat from tho Euglith shore is uue at Calais pier by 6 o’tiock, iu time to meet the evenuig exprrta lo Parif. 'i his train, the i.sUst on the schedule, reaches Paris in six hours, making only one stop of fifteen minutes at Ami n*. Jeau Marie’s idea is to remaiu bidden until juet until just before the time of the boat's .urival; to hurry to toe pier; to fiud turoo passenger willing to entrust him with the care of bis portmanteau, and by this mean* to pass the guara at the gates of the railway. Ouce within the gates, bis worst difficulty will be over. Jean Marie baa oftcu not.ccd that in the older cairiave* ot thi* line there u au axaoiy *puce beneath t,ue seats, which is lilddcu oya cloth valance failing from tho up holstered cushions. Tin* space m, it is true, v^y harrow; but tne eager bc-y is couvluccd ihsilt will not—must uoi— prove too small to hold hia emaciated lit- tie |>vr*on. Au ihai he n quires is lime to nide nimself unobservtd end to escups de- tmi'wM by ivuklie C3 the jiiT, or iy the railw. y guard iu the carriage. Tins U a dtsperAte chance, but Jinn Marie is in a Mute cf mind “to do or die,” and does not ntop to reckon his difficulties. To reach Paris is the goal cf me hoi’a desires Dimly, us in a dream, he yemci'.ber* a pretty little apartment of a nous# in Par r —quite iiigh up—higher even than the topi of the trees in the gardtu opposite, on which the salon windows looked. In the gaiileus there was music sometimes; in the apartment there was a pale, gentle blue-eyed lady. Always the dvares', •weetet’. memory in the sweel dream of the child'.* wa* tho figure of the lady, who scmeliutca smiled and often wept; for whom Jean Marie felt a reverential awed love, as for the beautiful madonna in ht. Roch, whom Simon, hia nuree, called “Mtdsme,”and he called “Ma Mete,'' Even now, if he but shut# his eyts and remetutK-re, lie can again fee! the caressing touch of these wbi e hands; can hear again a low, sad voice murmuilug softly: “My child! liclas, my little csiid.” ot»erving his fetlow-pa-sengers, as, limp »>mi woe-begone front recent sacrifices to Neptune, they emerge in a dismal proces- •ion from the cabin companion-way. Among tho first of the victims to appear U a tall, thin, clerical-looking individual of demure aspect. His demeanor is like his attire, sober and coramot-plxce; but a glance at ttie man’s face ia sufficient to d s-ipatc nry preconceived id-sa of his rh trader and to couvey a cuiious tense of unpleasant surprise. His Lee is emaci ated to a painlui fiegrre, while the ghostly pallor of hiacomp'fxiun is only accentu al* d by the darki.t-ss of his hair and eyes; his fcatuns regular and r*fined, are curb ou»ly impatsiv-, and SI be stands with down-btni eye* fixed uiwn the doek at his feet, hU face u as expreisiouleaa aa a niaak. For a nninett young D -y.e • are* at him without reoegnitiou, wnen iui'« denly, ss though megneiis.d by the young «tih uo Dickattivea. Presently the door u>an T * curious gas *, the clerical g*ntle»o-u- k'ehrovto'oplrj t> tjuard csh.rsin raises hia eyes and turns them full upon ^‘Now, by all the lajnt* 1” ejaculates Mr. it isn’t (lie marl parson hirmeii.” And forthwith wreathing hie countenance J*. an engaging smile, he tdvances toward the object of Lis ■'Urpriie with ou stretched hand. An he advance* the clergyman re treat#, gtaing at Mr. Doyle the while with mlngbd terror and loathing, aud as Dick makes a final attempt to graep hia hand ho turns ai d fl-.-es, aa young Doyle ffter- ward docribtd it, ' like the wicked, whom no man pureuetb.” Young Doyle gazes after his retreating form in pure ainezornebt, which emotion lu .'dehly givrs way to exqui .ite mirth as the explanation of the reverend gentle man’s conduct dawns upon him. Home two months previous, during the latter part of Dick’s stay in London, a ccw star had arisen in the ritualistic fir mament. Rev. Arthur Coleman, a young divine just returned from a novitiate of two years as African missionary, suffering in mind and body from the revere strain and hardrhip* he had undergone, was * flVre l, and in an evil day accepted, the vicarshlp of “St. Mary the Virgin,” a “just stepped out,” he gave up hi* quest, and the meeting which had just taken place watt he first rfnee the fatal inter view. Dick, to do him joitic?, had not heard of the serious effect his article bad had upon Mr. Coleman’s affair*, and laid the reverend gentleman’* behavior to an noyance at the ridicule cast upon him. While the young Ii'ishmsn, still linking with laughter, is watching for the reap* pi:*mute of hia victim, the steamer has gradually drawn alongside the quay. With tho placing of tbeg.ing-plduk cornea a tush of cabmen, portetB end railway guide vender#, pushing, vociferating and effectually preventing the pisecngera from dioembsrkieg. A good many haul words and not a few blows are necessary to re- storo a moderste degree of order. In the melee Jean Marie, who has Icon eagerly watching ms chance, makes hie way un noticed to the deck of the steamer. Ar- rived there he takes a rapid survey of the faces about him. It ii with a sudden feme of relief that hie eyes light upon Dick Doyle, who is still smiling at bis rertiioDcences of the Rev. Coleman. Jean Marie is wen by the smiling bonny lace, and with a sudden taking of hie wavering courage in both hands, he approaches f oung Doyle. “M’aieu,” he murmur* aintlv, twirling hia battered mu in a ner vous little hand. “M’aieu, will you per mit that 1 carry your value?" Dick locked about him for the beseech ing voice, and not finding its owner upon hie own level, he lets hie eyes fall lower down, down, until they rest, astonished, up 'n the four feet and odd inches of Jean Marie. He <eee an upturned, earnrst face, il lumined by widfc eager eyes that hold a world of of wiiifal pleading, as they meet his glance of amused surprise. He shakes his head kindly, and pro ceed* to explain to thechiid thnt his port manteau is too heavy. Jean Marie eager ly protests the ttrength that lies hidden in hi* diminutive body, ard moat convincing S roof of all to Dick’s soft heart, hi* eves Ii with trare aa he sets forth his capabili ties with tbe murage of despair. The npaho* of tbeaff>iristbai“M’eIeur” bestowing a light satchel on Jean Marie, earths the heavy portmanteau bimseif, and in another moment tbe curiously ai- fortsd pair are speeding along the quay together, Jean Marie’s tittle face flushed with tho effort* he is making to keep pace with D.ck’s long stride, bis heart beating fast with minyhd joy and apprebeniion as be nears the gates, passes them triumph antly, an find<« himself at the door of tbe rear carriage, which, in view of it* unde lirahility, Lick has chosen aa moit likely to be unengaged. The portmanteau and satchel having been disposed of in a coi ner of the carriage, Dtclc haves Jean Ma rie in charge of them, while he proceed * to the bo king office to purchase bis ticket. D for- be goes, he gins Jem Ma- lie ten aons, with a pnnme of ten more, on hia return to the carriage. The child watches Dick dissppssr in the crowd, aad casting one hss>y g'ance abont hioi to tee if be is wateb«d, tpringa into the carriage, raises the v-lai.ee of the seat nearest to the portmanteau and dh- appears. The waroisg gong sounds. The guard, in niaoinw. £ fanaea in, and aaein* die port- tnabteauTn'Wi empty carries'*, close# to the djor furtsfeiy. There are only five miu^ts now before the train starts, and him on lo hitherto undreamed of vio lence. His gin nee, his tone, the mingled passion end despair in his words, e -her the careless young Irishmen to a sudden tense of bis own cruelty. In #p te of bis easily roused resentment# and boyish con ceit, Dick is a genthtnsn; and it is with an hpneet, kindly jiupuhe that lie holds out his hand to the poor clergyman end rays with winning courtesy, “Fcrg've me, fir! I was au awfui brute to sav such a thing, evea in jest; but you see, I thought you seemed to suspect me of wanting to take your money, ax d that rather xtitled me. you know," Dick concludes gaily. • To his disgust the clergyman, disregard ing the profered hand and with >ut vouch ing a word in reply, rues stiffly from hi* knees, stuffs the last of the notes into his esse, locks it and, placing it by his side, lovingly over the set, awfui face and man gled nody, from which Arthur Coleman has ercaped forever. The tram rushes on through the starlit gloom of the summer night. The door of the rear canitge swing" heavily to and fro with tbe motion. Within #11 is confusion and horror, cushions torn and blood- statLed, window-glasses broken, a port manteau lying open, which has fallen from the near, its contents scattered on the floor, and prostrate amongst them, its face half hidden by one white, nerveless hand, lies the body of a man with closed eyes and ailent lips, and soft brown curls ail wet with blood. Huddl'd In one corner of the carriage, hia white face pressed against tbs window, crouched Jean Marie, gasing with horror- »triuken eyes at a scene which bis feverish seats himself in the neat moat remote from j imagination reproduces in endless, awful hie companion’s. Dick only shrugs his | iteration, a man falling backward with shon’dera at this ctvalier manner of re-j extended arms and hands vainly clutching ceiving hi* apology, and settling himtelf j at the air. his (see white and distorted comforlably in his corner of the carriage, with mingled rage and fear, falling—dis- forthwlth goes to sleep. , appearing-into a golf of black shadows, The carriage flies feat through the gath- swallowed up by a giant’s maw of dark- ering dsrkncs*. Inside the gloom 1# some-i neis Again and again the child lives what ligLtenxd by an oil lamp fixed ip the J through that dreadful moment. An hour roof of the carriage, its rays, dimly visible | pisses, and yet he has not moved Quite suddenly the dream-like vi*ion is, . * . * _ changed. Misery and terror and chinge | parish of some Catholic, some Homan con- ovetwhclm hi# little wor d. He aloud bv | victione, where religion w-a served to suit his btautiiul mother’s bedside aud crie'd ! the aristocratic taste of iu laymen ia wake her, and Nanon came and carried him sway and told him, weeping the while, that “Madame" waa going away ou a j mriioy to Pere la Chaise, and he must not grieve but be a gxd little one, and thon tome day le bon Dieu would permit him to see again the beautiful mother. 11c had asked who was this Pere la Chaise, if bo u t# good, and would be lie kind to the poor, tired mother? First Xanoo had only wept in answer, but afterward, when he indeted upon knowing if Pere la Chthe would he kind to mamma, she had esht fiercely, “But yea, my little one, surely more 'kind than these others have been,” with a »cornful wave of her hand in the direction presumably of the outside world. After that men had come and taken a«ay the furniture—even his own little bed—and then came Toniette, to whom Nanon gave him, together with <om« pieces of gold. Toniette carried him to a little cottage in l’asay, whtjo there were other children. Bhe was not unkind to him so long os Nanon came every month and left some money behind her. Hot after a lime Nanon ceased to come. Toniette grew cross, then she beat him sometimes, and wcuid have turned him out, tu <hit he waa uwful in minding the babies she bad charge of. Finally T nieite left Pss-y quite suddenly ia the igiii, icaviuii all ‘Le iu! Uirii but Jeui 1 quest •* vp“ 1 v ir,< *** / * Mneu,” he says eagerly. Smte then life had been all minery for tbe little lad. Dread of Toniette sober; re- doubl'd dread of Toi.ielte drunk, had made eiiaUnce a constant terror for th« clii'd, and that last infamy of hia tyram’a in stealing his beloved locket hta cou plet* d the circle of his wretchedness- Hia one idea now was to retch Paris to find bis mother, whom, misled by Xenon’* word#, he pic ur»d to blm*elf at living a poAC-itsl life wi h a Cure named “la 1 h*UM%” having for some un-xplicahle but doubtless wise reason left her little bjy to i-ufler for a while. Having found her he had no donbt of his living welcome; in imagination he could eveu now feel htr dear arms about bim, her kisses on his Ups. Thus thinking, and worn with fa tigu* and excitement, Jean Marie faltf* astr'p, sn-.i, dreaming, dads again his lest, beautiful mother. h ghly spiced, sensational form, and where th j spirit of devotion was ciiigenllv wooed by means of florid music and elaborate vestments: a t*ari*h,iu fact, united onljr to the “Charles Hont-ynum” order of genius, where a sensitive, morbid, enthusiastic, fanatic-like Arthur Coleman was utterly out of place. Stung into double activity by the sell-sufficient religion of hL flock, Mr. Coleman carried lual to excess; hia sermons were marvels of enthusiastic der- oteeism; gradually they became more and more atartling in their vivid portrayal of r« quest from the clergyman, who says tbe sin and follies he hoped to cure. Tfic coldly, with a decidedly suipfcloua glance world, over.ooklng hia real devotion for the cauls he preached and alas, profaned, went to bear him a# they went to see Irving, to be amu ed. lhia man, inwhote fervid soul was the making of a martyr, became tbe fashion; the latest sensation. It waa ths laddtst irony ol fate, and des tined lo a seqnel yet more sad, which has f« shadowed, in the words of a famous phyaicia *, wbo, having heard one of Mr. Coleman’« remarkable discourse#, and be ing called upon toexpretshis opinion,said quietly: “That |Oor young fellow is qutliljring as rspidiy ss pos»ible for a straight jacket; it lias fine a case of de votional insanity as evey came under my notice.” It waa at this time, and at the height of th# reverend gentleman’s popularity, that young Doyle was sent, in behalf of his paper, to interview and, in reportorial uhrate, write up the unfortunate clergy- mxn, which !s:k h* undertook with sir • Marie. He wanted to it »y, too, but for ruy. He led Mr. Coleman into various s->me reason Toniette took him with her. ecu Hiding sUtemen's and personal rt- m. rks about the lukewarmuees of hi* spiritual »uperior { . as wall as aome dam- asinglf tru liful criticisms on bis Lsbion- able parishioners. He portrayed with hurnoroiti force the unfa: lunate clergy man's eccentric lira oludodaud manutr; In fact, yout g Dick wrote a clever article, gaintd fJtvoraoie lo ice, five guinea#, and added (hit la*t straw which effectually hr«ke the back of Mr. Coleman's clerical career and paved the way for a luccrtsion of evenia wh ch eventn-tliy mined that unfortur at* genii piau in pur*, in repu tation aua iu miud. To Mr, Cbleman’a unbalanced mind it had *eemed as though to Dick Doyle alone he owed all the troubh-a that followi d, r n i iu the fir t moments of hia rage be had irh-ii to fiivl him. But af er a score ot ftiithts visits to the< ffi< rs > f M* paper, at which times Mr. Doyle had invariably, a tall, thin g-n leman, soobrapamed by a K iner, carryingsorno railway rugs and a uisian leather cass. The gentleman re tire porter, shms the door, and falls to ex- amieg th • liu-sian ca o with palpable anxiety. Finding, apparently, its con tents as they should in*, b« is in the act of closing it, when the starting whistle sounds GiriUy. The babel ol sounds out- "ide increases into a roar; paticnger* "bout, questions, entreaties, directions; guards gesticulate wildly—there* is an ap parently inextricable confusion of porters aud luggage: there is a faint premonitory movement of the carriages and just as tbs train, with a parting shriek, begins to move, Dick Doyle springs past the guard into the compartment, and sinks, panting into ths nearest scat. His first impulse after regaining his breath is to look around for his portman taau with a remorseful memory of the lad to ftbciu he had promised another ten- sou piece for guarding them, and whom, iu the hurry of gaining hia compartment, he had entirely forgotten. Ilia first glance a«surca him of the safely of Ms belong ing*. and at the same time reveals to him his fellow-passenger. Their eyes meet in u long, surprised stare, largely mingled, cn the Rev. Arthur’s part, with ri>gust. For the second time that day Dick ui.d hh qiundom victim have met; on this on- tasi.io, without hope of retreat. In his surprise the clergyman has let his bag fall epen oo hia knee, and, before he hat recov ered a sudden jerk of tbe swiftly moving carriage throws it to the fl)or, its contents scattering as they fall. It is now Dick Doyle's turn to lie surprised, for ths car riage is literally strewn with gold and ptralyzing gr«p of those serpent-1 note#.' After a moment’* pause he Is about arms: his heart beats in great throbs, to aid iu collecting ibe money, but desists immediately upon a somewhat peremptory Bfcit: “t.ldige me, lir, by not disturbing ths notes; as I am responsible for tbe money, 1 should prefer collecting it myself." Dick, annoyed at implied smplcion of his honesty, in 1 inspired by a medest de sire to get even with his companion, re plies with suspicions sweetness ot u>q« but a “.hiilaUh" expression of tye, “Don't apologize, sir; pray dkb'tstpolokize. You •n t. > sole position of tbe money after having ruu th- risk of— ah! himr-finding it. Was it—” this in a confidential whisper, “was it aVmk?” “1 am at a los« to understand your in sinuatious, air,” the clergyman replies coldly. “The money fleet not I elong to ». It waa oonfid« fl to my catc.” “Ah!of conr*e,”Di'k rep^nds with a peculiarly aggravating air of exaggerated bi lief. “Ot course it waa confided io your care. Aio you going to —— with it? Now let me advise—as an excelb nt place in which to take cue of i ; a charming, tetired place, where even the vigilant de tective of Scotland Yard route from troubling, ai d the wicked are at leal," t his garbled quotation the clergyman speaks flimly: “You find,” he cries bosrse.y, “yon have once airsidy ruined my hop*a by your written lies; would you add U-rtnro to ruin?” lie is still kme ing on the floor of ths carriage, one hand upon the Russia case, the other clutching a handful of notes. His pals face has grown livid, into his gleaming eyea baa leapt a spark of insan ity, a token of the '.ontla.ra ion that i» in. H s t t tund, id- trng ou ih- verge of iron one o wh«m he fortun e pr>v*s. the bat mins >he scale, msidcion, fe r, hatred, of in.ani y, enter in cf his sw-i and lead omu bsleD so til fcalbi From aUtfa through the enrrutted dirt of the globe, casting strange flickering shadows on tbe faces of the travelers. An hour and a half has passed since leaving Calais, and Dick sleeps soundly, while the clergyman, leaning back with closed eyes, only thows his wakefulness by the restless motions of hit hands. 8o much for the two visible occupant# of the carriage; but underneath tbe cushions of the seat opposite Mr. Coleman lies a third, unseen and wakeful. Tbe bard boards, the noise and rattle and jolting of the wheel" making for hia emac iated little frame but an indifferent conch; besides, tbe long sleep he had er j >yei earlier in the day rendered hunger Jean Mnrie’a keenest prei-ent discomfort. He is wide awake, hia sensei all alert, hia eye*, by meaui of a rent in tbe valance, bent curionaly on the face of the clergyman. He bad gathered some nction, durii g the quarrel earlier in the evening, of violence ou the clergyman’s part, as not unlikely lo be exerris ii by him against the young gentleman whoso passing kindness to him self Jean Marie’a loving little heart re warded wiih unstinted, warmest gratitude. Latterly he hat surprised, sly, occa sional glancvigiven by nis vi* a«via toward the direction where, although he cannot see him, Jean Marie knows that Di k must sir, ssh-c.i, «his last bi: of informa tion being founded upon the prolonged nasal sounds he has for some time beard in that direction. Something in tbe clergyman’s manner, something malevo lent in hia glance, warns ihe child of dan ger. Pres-ntlj the watchful eyes see a curious thing happen. The clergyman opens his eyss slowly, raises him*eil to sn erect posture, and, after a cunning, steal thy glance toward hie aleepiug companion, leans forward and noiselessly lowers tbe window near him. Jean Marit’s lisart brats violently as he watches, retoiviog inwardly that at the first motion of thi' dreadful-looking man toward his bsnefac or he will raise such an outcry as ca: not fail to wake the la'ter from ok slumber. The clergyman, her ever, has apparent y no intention of dis- turidi gy ung Doyle. HU next proceed ing is to lift the tfutsia Lather cx e, and alter a canful examination of its fasten ing", he, to Jcab Marie’s unutterable sur prise, drop* it quietly from IkS SflD^llll ; dow. He next proceeds Id dlve«t klawlf of rostaal shots, both of wi.i k Im i ■ tuiiy braiows on the seas nearoti to him; then, rising, he tries with great care the handle of the door. Fiadiog it locked he surveys thd open window, with tho evi dent intention of following on the aame road his la* has so recently taken, hesi tates, and with a quick movement turns and makes for toe other door, beside which lies hit nnconscious foe. Jean Marie is by thi* time in a state of intense excitement.. He draws himself partly out from hia hiding place, thereby gaining a complete view of the interior of the com partment. He can bear the clergyman whispering to himself as he creeps near M door; can tunud bis tortured eyes from the window. Gradually tbe country throngh which they pass grows less deserted, the stars above are suddeoly reinforced by a galaxy of earthly luminaries, and Amiens, with its steeples rising in lonely state, iu gray old ttrecU dimly outlined by twinkling light#, comes into view, end with the first #ixbt of it Jean Marie awakes from hia stupor and, turning from bis window, gazes fearfully at the unconscious figure on tbe floor. Presently he creeps, with averted face { close to where it lies; hesi tates; then with sudden, desperate deter mination, turn* his eyes full upon it, and flies shrieking to his comer again. A piu- tion of fear, of terror, for that quiet figure, takes possession of the boy. Hia brain reel* under tbe accumulated horrors he has endured, and his sole thought is how to esc -pe from this loathsome carriage, oc« copied t>y one dead face, haunted by an other. The train baa slackened speed. Slowly they wind throngh the suburbs of Amiens and appioach their stopping-place. After a ha*>y glance from the window Jean Marie creeps out on the footboard, and just as ths carriage moves slowly into the station drops quietly off on ths oppo site sido and steals away in the shadows. By divers turns, and not without some challenge from the railway guards, he gains the exit and slips out uoob'srved, in the bustle of the arriving train. Once free he runs swiftly, punued by hL own terror#, through tbe win ting streets, till at l«st he sinks exhausted in a neighboring doorway. Then for the first time he finds a child’s relief in tears, at d with an in stinctive need of comfort teekshis mother’s gift. He thrusts bL shaking little haad into his bosom, finds tbe thtin snd clasps it with a sudd>n frigbteced cry. The chair ia still fastened round his neck, but the separate links, by means of which the locket is attached to the connecting ring L J [one, and with It the heart itself—hL l>c- oved locket. Whilp J*an Marie L cs:aping from h T s own dreadful memorlis an exciting tene !• h»inr *t (k» rl»|inl Th«* an«r«l ( unlocking the d >r of the rear carriage, throws it o, en ami be»i s h is usual an- noun - u ni of “Me i-.urr, the pa>spugera may here de* “nd for tapper. But ho river i.nv f jrih-r than the (ml word. jm ’ n ir < I sod hold aid, and aft.r cor-i !■ nble .x'ertioii Ou t, who L onlv stunned and wrak from lcaa of blood, revives and explain#, with wbat clearness he mar, the circumstances of the case. It L, in fact, so confused snd con tradictory a story that it evidently create* luspicion instead of allaying it, and the upahot of tbe sflair L that on hL arrival io ParL poor Dick, all braised and bat tered as he is, L turned over to the tender mercies of the police snd spends his first night in the queen of cities immured in f irison. After a delay of two day#, dur- I og which time the body of ths clergyman , gee him as, one han<l on the I had been found and identified, Dick, still Iliad le, he turns and ’herds over the wesk and nervous, was brought before the sleeper before he essays the lock. At that! j™*® destruction for examination. In moment, " ~“ r “ *“ “ of being hL , PPHHHH over him and a madman’s eyes glaring before he essays tbe lock. At that 1 d'tnstrucuon lor examination, in , without . i.r.monitory tymptow , reply to hU qautiou young Doji. lUted ; round, Dick iweker, open, wide th»t h* tu » journtliet unit by lb. U>n- , to find > wild, hifttrd fee. bent don u corrwpmd.nt to Bern; left down into Lis scarcely awakened ones. Believing himself attacked, and with a natural impulse of self defence, he throws himself impetuously upon hie supposed aotagonLt, and the clergyman, whose warped intellect has hitherto been beot only on escape from hL supposed foe, finding bimseif thwarted and in tbe era*] of a powerful antagonist, suddenly dcvel ops a maniac’s ferocity. HL emaciated body seems endowed with a giant’s strength; hL long arms wind themselves around Dick’s body; hL thin fingers clutch at the lad’a throat. To hL horror Dick, taken unawares, and confuted with sleep, finds himself losing strength under tile * * fi i like ■iiuii m» uhu uciii iu Km' iiiruoc, hit breath comes iu gasps and at longer inter vals as the hand at hL throat tighten* its hold; he grows weaker every instant, as. with limbi interlocked they «way to and fro in the desperate strangle, silent, except for the noiee made by their bodies at now one and now tho other L thrown violently aga nst the door of tbe carriage. The ob ject of each L to throw the other. Dick has hitherto managed to keep hL feet; but by a sudden writhe of hta body tho madman gains an advantage, and,support* ing himself against the door of tuo car riage, bend* all his energies toward throw ing bis antagonist. Dice’s senses reel, the veins on his temples swell to bursting, a re i mi%t comes before bis itaringeyes as hL hands slowly loose their kold of tbe clerg)tnan, acd falling, clutch at the arm ot u.e seat in a last eflort to keep himself rrect. At tbL nx.ment of hL greatest ex tremity Jeau Marie, hitherto a terrified spectator of the terrible scene, seeing hL benefactor’s dtnger and forgetful of his own feebleness, springs upon the ssa', ai d from that vantage grout.d makes a wild oa-ault upon iha Ha flnuh.* the madman's arm with both desperate lit tle hatd*,*aad drawing it with tbe strength of d spair toward him. fastens hL teeth in the fl #hy part, from which tbe shift has lemtirn. With a wi d tcream of dis mayed pain the clergymsn loosens his hold on Dick’s throat to aim a b ow at this aew anUgoclxt. At the young I rub nisn, released ftom bit deadly clatp, falls mm*lees to the floor, and Jean Marie, blond strexiBg from a cut oo his fore- head, L thrown violently against tbe cu>hions of the seat, tbe madman, de*per- •ith rafo ai d L ar makts a wild effort cape. He flings bunteif with abso- iutriy terrible Unct *g«Iu*t tbe door of ibts carriage, which, weakened by the blows it bas nlirtdy tu-tainrd during tbe previous aitUL’gie, t’ives way and precipi- taws ibewre cbcd nun hesdloag fioux the carriage. D<wo, down he fails, to the b.d of <b« strtaiu in-low, that, t o feeble to bear bim away on iu gentle bosom, ripples London on tbe morning of August the 20ih; took Dover boat the a <me afternoon { airived in CalaL at 6 o’clock in tbe even ing. and then took tho ParL express, which left C»1*L a quarter of an hoar afUr the arrival of the boat. He bad oc cupied tbe rear compartment, having for cole companion a clergyman whom he recognized as the Rev. Aitbur Coleman. Cross-questioned, he admitted that he had met Jur. Coleman on one previ us occa sion, out of which u.OL>ting there had arisen ill-feeling on the part of the clergy man ; that lie had been aware of Mr. Cole man’s poeseeaion of a large sum of money, and gave bis version of ths Russia leather case incident, which was so incoherent es to deepen suspicion in the minds of hL judges against him. He stated that tbe clergyman bad attacked bim as he was waking from sleep and would have suc ceeded in strangling him but for the in terference of a third persun, is to whose iraporunt identity Dick was hopelessly h*zy. He fancied it was a boy, but as he bad immediately lost hL senses, and as tbe person seemed to he of the same height as bimseif, he conld not even in thL make a dtcided statement In fact the bewildered young fellow made a decidedly bid impression upon hia examiners, and was finally remanded to orison to await hL trial onl a charge of wilful murder and theit. ThL totally unexpected blow seemed to arouee Duk’e faculties. He was permit ted to communicate with hL friends, counsel was procured, detectives set to work, advertiaemenu begging for tbe reap pearance of that vague “third party” aa a »imlss were publiebed. Two circum stance* in Dick’s favor were—first, the finding of an nnidectffied locket on tbe fl >or of the esnisge immediately after the ciimt we* discovered, and tecondly^ the cclebrat d Dr. D——• of L^udoa that, in Ms opinion, the R«v. Mr. Coleman's brain had b«cu for -some time diseased, and un 'ey any exciting circumstances he waa iisble tc a sudden flceelopmentpf violent unnia. Ihe doctors teatiujony was at tested and witnessed, io that it might be brought into court as evidence at tbe trial: an I handbill! d-scribing tbe locket and accompanying bit of chain were fnely cir- Mated through all tbe towns on th* line of tbe railway between ParL and Calais, Dkk, in setting forth hi# cm* to the law- y r, bad inciuentaily mentioned the epi- Mxle of Jean Marin and the portmanteau, and it h"d given that estate individual an idea. Upon close questioning Dick was led <rclutttnily to admit that it bad h*cmed to him in the momstt before he fainted that be recogn s-d in bis defeoder hL quondam potter, but had banbhed tbe idea as absurd, both from tbe child's height and from hL evident feebleness,