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VOL. XX: f' ■v 1 h i] , \fJZ- cj7V\AN. author or ^^2;T/U S ‘ U ^'TmEMAN IN fRANC**. BLACK * GENTLEMAN 01* SYNOPSIS. &ry is queen of England. Franc! Claris living and bis with cousin hw Petromlla, uncle, S' Si Anthony, daughter. Gardiner bish Anthony’s Winchester, pays a visit to e op of and being Catholic is dis¬ Anthony, a liked bv Francis, who is at heart • CHAPTER 1 f.—Gardi [ner tells Francis who bis father is, that heis a traitor and informer, and offer [tomake the young man’s fortune if In H'ill enter his service as a spy. r rancis Us for time to reply and his runs fortune, away, intending to carve out own jlll,—lie is overtaken by Clarence, an Ljt.if Gardiner, by telling against them whom the he in bites S.ia Ibe mob gang'leader. man press and escapes or Clarence’s horse and with his dispatches IV.-Francis goes to an inn at St. Al hans, and showing the dispatches i thoughtto be a queen’s courier. Cla toce arrives, and he escapes with the kid of a waiting maid, V. and VI.—He teaches London and renders aid to two in romen. He and the women escape boat, are attacked, and Francis is stun ei. CHAPTER VII. Iam told by peoplo who liavo boon sca¬ le]; that the sound of tbo waves beating [gainst fctolrrablo tbo hull comes in time this to lie an torment. But bad as may [c ftp it pains can lie I suffered nothing from in comparison tho with same cause LI recovered my senses. My brain seemed n he a cavern into which each moment, fith a rhythmical regularity which added lie pangs of anticipation to those of real¬ ly tho sea rushed, booming and thunder kg, jarring every nerve and straining the falls to bursting and making each mo¬ ment fcis ol consciousness a long vivid I agony. cannot And lusted long—how say. But it had subsided somewhat when Iffrst pencil bovo my eyes and dully, not daring to my head, looked up. I was lying on my back. About a foot fora my eyes worn rough beams of wood hsclosed by a smoky yellow light, which fctcml light on the knotholes and regularly, rude joists, and pc bis swayed to and fro adding to my pain I closed my eyes lith a moan. Then someone camo to me, lull heard voices which sounded along layoff and promptly fell again into a Icepsleep, I, troubled still, but less painful by tho same rhythmical shocks, the ■medull era-lungs in my brain. ["hen low what I caused invoke this again, and I had whero sense I to was [in [lich »berth had troubled on board ship. that The of noise tho so mo was feres beating against iter forefoot. Tho bains so close to my face formed tbo deck; be smoky light came from the ship's inn pa Ime swinging on a hook. I tried to turn. ono camo again, and with gentle P n ds arranged my pillow and prosontly fean to feed mo with a spoon. When I |3 swallowed a few mouthfuls, I gained pcpgth ["ho to turn. this feeding me? Tho light was I” |« et while her back I tool; and her dazzled for Petronilla, me. For a Ictights my going hack at one bound to Co P wd skipping all that had happened r I Kft home. But as I grew stronger Ipew t carer, and recalling bit by bit PP had happened in the boat I recog Iwl -Mistress Anne. I tried to murmur Icuks, but she laid a cool finger on my P*anil shook her head, smiling on me. i°u must not talk,” she murmured, fou pin. aro getting well. Now go to sleep 1 ’ |Ishut my eyes at onco as a child might, ■other _ interval of unconsciousness, pain is this time, followed, and again I awoke. Pas lying on my side now, and without “ T| ag cn.ild see tho whole of tho tiny ‘ Hie lantern still hung and smoked, [splashing 'Y light was steady now, and I heard without nor the dull groan Sami creaking of tho timbers within, ptoreigned ■“■’..end a quiet which seemed bliss I lay wrapped in it, my ® lcnt ’ growing clearer and clearer each - !1 a f;oa chest at the farther end of the fsitting , two peoplo engaged in “‘Cone, a woman, I recognized im ' ^ lle g ray eyes full of com • S the handsome features, the reddish '“ hair and gracious figure left me in ,?. istress not ’ even for a moment, that I looked - Bertram. The sharer of her , a tall, thin man, with a thougbt an, l dreamy, rather melancholy one of her hands rested on his ■ and her lips as she talked were close ‘ > eat A little aside, sitting tho - on Ijl” f!l! P °f the ladder which led to the U _ c i^ead 0i '“ about leaningagainst her. Mistress tho timbers A } lit t0 ^ was nno. - s P ea am ? after more than , found my voice. “Where am ‘«bisncred. My head ached sadly, _■ icu i. ii. though I was too languid *SC n,y hand to it, that it was band . i uui'.c. was so far clear that I i,'* it 4 3 "! Master iu Clarence the and his pur * “V'K boats and knew at . ought to he '“ on our way to nrison. m' U1 ' "as the mild, comely gentle length of limb made the cabin “Baa . Her than it was? Not a jailer lr, Yet wh o else? Uld compass no more than a whis t t faint - as my voice they all was let arui looked up. “Anne!” the U* .7 ctied sharply, seeming by her t*, ^ “ ^ she herself the other the to attend tome, and ,% first to rise her hand on my brow. “Ah. ,V.V' r Rone!" she said, speaking >1? to the ap H*.S head gentleman, who kept hU is quite cool. He will do 1 am sure. Do you know met” - ;-sued, "-J ’JPintq leaning over me. - hcr eyes and rgad only fcf (faiM % / mM CONYERS, GA„ SATURDAY. MAY 4, 1895. ffort of looking was so painful^hat I closed my eyes again, with a sigh. Never tholess my memory of the events which had gone before my illness grew clearer, ind I fumbled feebly for something which should have been at my side. “Whero is —whero is mv * sword?” I made shift to whisper. She laughed. ‘‘Show it to him, Anne,” she said. ‘‘What a never dio it is! There, master knight errant, wc did not forget to bring it off tho field, you see.” ‘‘But how,” 1 murmured,‘‘how did you escape?” I saw that there was no ques tion of a prison. Her laugh was gay, her voice full of content. “That is a long story,” she answered kindly. “Are you well enough to hear it? You think you are? Then take some of this first. You remembor that knave Philip striking you on tho head with an oar as you got up? No? Well, it was a cowardly stroke, but it stood him in llttlo stead, for we had drifted, in the excite rnentof the race, under the stern of tho ship which you remember seeing a little before. There wore .English seamen oil her, and when they saw three men in the act of boarding two defenseless women they stepped in and threatened to send Clarence and his crew to tho bottom un less they steered off. ” “Ha!” I murmured, “Good!” “And so we escaped. I prayed the cap¬ tain to take us on board his ship, tho Framlingliam, and ho did so. More, put¬ ting into Leigh on his way to the Nore, lie took off my husband. There ho stands, and when you are better he shall thank you.” “Nay, ho will thank you now,” said tbo tall man, rising and stepping to my berth with his head bent. Ho could not stand upright, so low was the deck. “But for you,” he continued, his earnestness show¬ ing in his voice and eyes—the latter were almost too tender for a man’s—“my wife would bo now lying in prison, her life in jeopardy and her property as good as gone. Fhe iias told mo how bravely you rescued her from that eur in Cheapside, and how your presence of mind baffled tbo watch at tho riverside. It is well, young gentleman. It is very well. But tlieso things call for other returns than words. When it lies in her power, my wife will make them. If not today, tomorrow, and if not tomorrow the day after.” I was very weak, and his words brought tho tears to my eyes. “She has saved my life already,” I murmured. “You foolish boy!” she cried, smiling down oil me, her hand on her husband's shoulder. “Y’ou got your head broken in my defense. It was a great thing, was it not, that I did not leave you to dio in tho boat? There, make hasto and get well. You have talked enough now. Goto sleep, or wo shall have the fever back again.” “Ono tiling first,” I pleaded. “Toll me whither wo aro going.” in “In a few hours we shall be at Dort Holland,” sho answered. “But bo con¬ tent, We will take care of you and send you back if you will, or you shall still come with us, as you please. Bo content. Go to sleep now and get strong. Present¬ ly perhaps we shall have need of your help again.” then their They wont and sat down on former seat and talked in whispers, while .Mistress Anno shook up my pillows and laid a fresh, cool bandage on my hoadf I was toaweak to speak my gratitude, but 1 —- ... Ik ./ - t. I# [,/■< 0jS ffC- 'X i ! l m v\ "Tv t r 'VK I I // n f I was too recall to speak my yratiluac. tried to look it, and so fell asleep again, her hand in mine, and the wondrous smile of thoso lustrous eyes the last Impression of which I was conscious, A long, dreamless sleep followed. V.hon I awoke once more, the light still hung steady, but the peacefulness of night v. a - gone. Wo lay in the midst of turmoil. The scampering of feet over tho deck above me, tho creaking of tho windlass,, the bumping and clattering of barrels hoisted j in or hoisted out, the harsh sound of voices raised in a foreign tonguo and in queeT keys, sufficed as I grew wide awake to tell me we were in port. But the cabin was empty, and I lay for some time gazing at its dreary interior r.nd wondering wliat was to become of me. Presently an uneasy fear crept into my mind. What if my companions had deserted me? Alone, ill and penniless in a foreign land, what should I do.’ This fear in my sick state was so terrible that I struggled to get up, and with reeling brain and nerveless hands did get out of my berth. But, this feat accomplished, I found that I could not stand, Everything swam before my eyes, I could not take a single step, but remained, clinging help¬ lessly to the edge of my berth, despair at my heart. I tried to call out, hut my voice rose little above a whisper, and the bang ingand shrieking,.the babel without, went on endlessly. Ob, it was cruel, cruel! They had left mol I think my senses were leaving me, too, when I felt an arm about my waist and found Mistress Anno by my side guiding me to tho chest. I sat down on it, the certainty of my helplessness and the sud den relief of her presence bringing the . j tears to my eyes. She fanned me and gave me some restorative, chiding mo tho while j for getting out of my berth. j I thought that yon had gono and left | me,” I muttered. I was as weak as a ' child. j She said cheerily: trouble? “Did Of you leavo us j when we were in take course of this. you did not. There, somo more in ! After all, it is well you aro up, for a short time v.e must move you to the other hoat b ’ ,, Ine other boat ,,, . 1 ' Yes, we are at Dort, youknow. And we are going by the B adl, k branch of T-r t 'l e hf a 1 8 here, <‘li»e to this oi e, and wi h help 1 <>"»k jon.wYl be a- e to walk to i : “ r »»■ '«'« 1 -'»«»> if J™ will tti'-o ... your : .rm." 1 answered gkirefutiy. . “ But you will not think again/* she re plied,‘that we liavo deserted you?” ' No,” 1 said. “I will trust you al wavs.” 1 wondered why a shadow crossed her face at that. Hut I had no time to do more than wonder, for Master Bertram, coining down, brought our sitting to an end. She bustled about to wrap me up, and somehow, partly walking, partly ear ried, I was got on deck. There I sat down on a bale to recover myself and felt at | once much the better for the fresh, keen air, the clear sky and wintry sunshine I which welcomed me to a foreign land. On tho outer side of tho vessel stretched a wide expanse of turbid water, five or six times as wide as the Thames at London, and foam (lucked hero and there by I lie up running tide. On the other side was a wideand spacious quay, paved neatly with round stones and piled here and there with merchandise, but possessing, by vir tuo of tho lines of leafless elms which bor dered it, a quaint air of rusticity in midst of bustle. Tlio sober bearing of the sturdy landsmen, going quietly about their businoss, accorded well with the sub stantial comfort of the rows of tall, steep roofed houses I saw beyond tho quay and seemed only inode nioro homely by' the oc casional swagger and uncouth cry of somo half barbarous seaman, wandering aim lessly about. Above the town rose the heavy square tower of a church, a notable landmark where all around, land and wa¬ ter, lay so low, where the horizon seemod so far and the sky so wide and breezy. “So you havo made up your mind to come with us, ” said Master Bertram, re¬ turning to my side. He had left me to make some arrangements. “You under¬ stand that if you would prefer to go home I can secure your tendance here by good, kindly peoplo and provido for your pas¬ sage back when you feel strong enough to fross. You understand that? And that tho choice is entirely your own? So which will you do?” I changed color and felt I did. I shrunk, as being well and strong I should not have shrunk, from losing sight of those three faces which I had known for so short a time, yet which alone stood between my¬ self and loneliness. “I would rather come with you,” I stammered. “But I shall be a great burdeu to you now, I fear.” “It is not that,” he replied, with hearty assurance in his voice. “A week’s rest and quiet will restore you to strength, and then the burden will lie on the other shoulder. It is for your own sako I give you the choice, because our future Is for the time uncertain. Very uncertain," lie repeated, his brow clouding over, “and to become our companion may expose you to fresh dangers. We aro refugees from Kug land That you probably guess. Our plan was to go to France, where are many of onr friends, nnd whore we could live safo ly until better times. You know how that plan tvrs frustrated- Here the Spaniards aro masters—Prince Philip’s people—nnd if we are recognized we shall he arrested and sent Lack to England. Still my wife and I must make the best of it. Tho hue and cry will not follow us for some days, and there is still a degree of independence in the cities of Holland which may, since I havo friends here, protect u« Mr a time. Now you know something of our position, my friend. Y'ou can make your choice with your eyes open. Either way we shall not forget you.” please,” “I will go on with you, if you I answered at once. ‘ I, too, cannot go home.” And as I said this Mistress Ber¬ tram also came up, and I took her hand in mine—which looked, by the way, so strangely thin I scarcely recognized it— and kissed it. “I will conic with you, madam, if you will let me,” I said. ‘ Good!” she replied, her eyes sparkling “I said yon would! I do not mind telling you now that I am glad of it. And if ever we return to England, as God grant we may, and soon, you shall not regret your decision. Shall he, Richard?” “If you say he shall not, my dear,” ho responded, smiling at her enthusiasm, I think I may answer for it he will not.” I was struck then, as I had been before, by a certain air of deference which tho husband assumed toward the wife. It did not surprise me, for her hearing and man ner, ns well as such of her actions as I had seen, stamped her as singularly self reliant and independent for a woman, and to these qualities, as much as to tho rather dreamy character of the husband, 1 was content to set down tho peculiarity. I should add that a rareand pretty tenderness constant¬ ly displayed on her part toward him rob¬ bed it of any semblance of unseemliness. They saw that tho exertion of talking exhausted me, and so, with an encourag ing nod left mo to myself. A few min utes later a couple of English sailors be longing to the Framlingliam came up and with gentle strength transported me, un dcr Mistress Atmo s directions, to a queer looking wide beamed boat which lay al¬ most alongside. She was more like a huge Thames barge than anything else, for sho drew little water, but bad a great expanse of sail when all was set. There was a large deckhouse, gay with paint and as clenn as it could be, and in a compart ment at one end of this, which seemed to Le assigned to our party, I was soon com fortablv settled. Exhausted as I was by the excitement of sitting up and being moved, I knew little of what passed about mo for the next two days and remember less. 1 slept and ate aud sometimes awoke to wonder where I was. But the meals and tho vaguo at tempts at thought made scarcely more im pression on my mind than the sleep. Yet ul! the while I was gaining strength rapid ly, my voutb and health standing me in good stead. The wound in my head, which had caused great loss of blood, heal ed all oneway, as we say in Warwick shire, and about noon on tho second day after leaving Dort I was well enough to reach the deck unassisted and sit in the sunshine on a pile of rugs which Mistress Anne, my constant nurse, bad laid for me in a corner sheltered from the wind. ' , . . * * * * Fortunately tho weather was mild and j warra , am Ube and sunshine the wider fell plain hrightly of, pasture on the j wide river which stretched away on either side of tho horizon, dotted here and there only byxi windmill, a farmhouse, tho steeple of a churc h, the brown sails o! a barge or *l mos t broken by a low dfij 9 6 a U8S. Sj Rami dunes. All was open, free; nil was '"rgenoss, and distance I gazril as tonisbeu. ll '° hustov.d and wife, who were pacing .ho deck forward, eamo to ,ne ; H» not.eed the wondering looks I “f* rau "1‘ 1!,is ls ho snu.smtmg. Quite, quite new, 1 answered. I never imagined anything so tint and yet in its way so beautiful \ou do not know Hincolnshircr . ■' . V , . native , county, ,, ho , *' T 1 s ,n v . answered It is much like this. But you ar0 hotter, and you can talk again. Now, * a ’"Y *!‘" lvo lcc " discussing whether , , we shall tell you more about our selves. And, since there is no time like t H ' present, I may say that wo liavo de oided , to trust you. ’ AH m all or not at all, Mistress Ber j tram added brightly, } iniunnund 1 lrst to my tell thanks. you who ^ wo are. For i i n ^' se j t : 1 am plain Richard Bertie ofhiii colnshire, at your service. My wife is something more than appears from this, or with a smile from her present . i u0 * *°° graceful dross, isho is .Stop, Richard! This is not sufficiently formal, my lady cried prettily. I have the honor to present to you, young geiitle man, she went on, laughing merrily and leaking a very grand courtesy before me, Katherine, duchess of Suffolk, ^ made shift to get to my feet anil bowod respectfully, but she forced me to sit down again. Enough of that, slio 6il| d lightly, ‘ until wo go back to Eng hind. Here nnd for the future wo aroMas ter Hertram and his wife. And this young lady, my distant kinswoman, Anne Bran¬ don, must pass ns Mistress Anno. You wonder how we came to ho stray ingin the streets aiono nnd unattended when you found us?" I did wonder, for tho name of the gay and brilliant. Duchess of Suffolk well known even to me, a country oaf former husband, Charles Brandon $ e of Suffolk, had been not only the one trusted and constant friend of King Henry VIII, but tho king’s brother-in-law, his first wife having been Mary, princess of England and queen dowager of France. Late in his splendid and prosperous career tho duke had married Katherine, tho heiress of Lord Willoughby de Kresby, and she it was who stood before me, still young and handsome. After her husband's death she had made England ring with her name, first, by a love match with a Lin¬ colnshire squire, and, secondly, by her fear¬ less and outspoken defense of the reform¬ ers. I did wonder indeed how she had Mine to ho wandering in tho streets at daybreak, an object of a chance passer's chivalry nnd pity. “It is simple enough, n sho said dryly. “I am rich, I am a Protestant, and I liavo an enemy. When I do not like a person, I speak out. Do 1 not, Kichard?’* “You do indeed, my dear, ” be answered, smiling. “And onco I spoke out to Bishop Gard¬ iner. Whatl Do you know Stephen Gard¬ iner?” For I lind started at the name, after which 1 could scarcely have concealed my knowledge if 1 would. So Innswered sini j ply, ‘ Yes; I havo seen him. ” I was think¬ ing how wonderful this was. These people had been litter strangers tome until a day or two before, yet now wo were all looking out together from the deck of a Dutch boat Jit tho low Dutch landscape, united by one tie, the enmity of the same man. “He is a man to Be dreaded,” the duch¬ ess continued, her eyes resting on her ba¬ by, which lay asleep on my bundle of rugs, and 1 guessed what fear it was had tamed her pride to flight. “His power in Eng¬ land ls absolute. We learned that it was bis purpose to arrest mo and determined to leavo England. But our very house¬ hold was full of spies, and though we choso a time when Clarence, our steward, whom wo had long suspected of being Gardiner’s chief tool, was away, Philip, his deputy, gained a clew to our design and watched us. We gave him tho slip with difficulty, leaving our luggage, br.t he dogged nnd overt mk us, and tho rest you know.” I bowed. As I gazed at her my admira¬ tion, I know, shone in my eyes. Sho looked, as sho stood on the deck, an exile and fugitive, so gay, so bright, so indom¬ itable, that in herself she was at once a warranty and ail omen of better times. The breeze had heightened her color and loosened hero and there a tress of her au¬ burn hair. No wonder Master Bertie looked proudly on his duchess. Suddenly a thing I had clean forgotten flashed into my mind, and 1 thrust my hand into my pocket. The action was so abrupt that it attracted their attention, and when I pulled ont a packet—two pack¬ ets—there wero three pairs of eyes liport mo. Tho seal dangled from ono missive. “What have you there?” the duchess asked briskly, for she was a woman and curious, “ Do you carry the deeds of your property about with you?” “No,” I said, not unwilling to make a small sensation, “This touches your grace. ” ‘ Hush!” she cried, raising ono imperi¬ ous Anger. “Transgressingnlrendy? From i this time forth I am Mistress Bertram, j remember. packet But with come,” tho seal she inquisitively, went on, ty lng the “how does it touch me?” • I put it silently into her hands, and she opened it and read a few lines, her hits band peeping over her shoulder. As she read her brow darkened, her eyes grew hard. Master Bertie’s face changed with hers, nnd they both peeped suddenly at me over the edge of the parchment, sus picion and hostility in their glances, “How came you by this, young sir?” he said slowly, after a long pause. “Have we escaped Peter to fall into the hands of Paul?” j “No, no!” I cried hurriedly. I saw that I had made a greater sensation than I had bargained for. I hastened to tell them how I had met with Gardiner’s servant at Stony Stratford, and how I had become possessed of his credentials. They laughed, : „f course. Indeed they laughed so loudly that the placid Dutchmen, standing aft , their breeches pockets, with their hands in j stared open mouthed at us. and the kin dred cattie on the bonk looked mildly up ( from the knee deep grass j “And what was the other pAciteb the ! duchess asked presently. Is that It in your ham. Yes, l answered, ho, holdlmr ling it It t.n t p with wv some relnctwce. “It seems to be a letWt e ( RSf-? e .£4Ei-y i! !, t S* s CJ»reac$.. “ ft it if. [5 SP A si }U f w m g j 1 C<6 vJ Ns Castoria is I>r. Samuel Pitcher’s prescription for Infants and Children. It contains neither Opium, Morphine nor other Narcotic substance. It is a harmless substitute for Paregoric, Drops, Soothing Syrups, and Castor Oil. It is Pleasant. Its guarantee is thirty years’ use by Millions of Mothers. Castoria destroys Worms and allays feverishness. Castoria prevents vomiting Sour Curd, cures Diarrhoea and Wind Colic. Castoria relieves teething troubles, cures constipation and flatulency. Castoria assimilates the food, regulates the stomach and bowels, giving healthy and natural sleep. Cas¬ toria is tho Children’s Panacea—the Mother’s Friend. Castoria. “Castoria is an excellent medicine for chil¬ dren. Mothers have repeatedly told me of its good effect upon their children.” Dr. G. C. Osgood. _ Lowell. Mass. " Castoria is the best remedy for children of which I am acquainted. I hope the day is not far distant when mothers will consider the real interest of their children, and use Castoria instead of the various quack nostrums which are destroying their loved ones, by forcing opium, morphine, soothing syrup and other hurtful agents down their throats, thereby sending them to premature graves.” Dr. j. F. Kinciieloe, Conway, Ark. The Centaur Company, 7T Murray Street, New York City. ''Clarence'- slio cried, “C'lnronoel” resting the hand slio was extending. “What! Hero Is our friend again, then. What is in it? You have opened it?” “No.” ‘•You have not? Then quick, open It!” she exclaimed. “This, too, touches us, I will bet a penny. Let us see at onco what It contains. Clarence Indeed! Perhaps we may have him on the hip yet. tho arch traitor!” But 1 held thepocketliook baek, though my checks reddened, and 1 knew I most seem foolish. They made certain that this letter was a communication to some spy, probably to Clarence himself under cover of a feminine address. Perhaps it was, but it boro a woman's name, audit was scaled, and, foolish though I might be, I would not betray tho woman’s secret, "No, madam,” I said, confused, awk¬ ward, stammering, yet withholding it with a secret obstinacy. “Pardon mo If I do not obey you—if I do »■>( let tills lie opened. It may bo what yon hi.?,” 1 add¬ ed, with an effort, “but it may also contain an honest secret, nnd that a woman's.” “What, do you say?” cried tile duchess. “Here are tropics!” At that her husband smiled, and I looked In despair from him to Mistress Anne. Would sho sympathize with my feelings? I found that site had turned her hack on us nnd was gazing over tho side. “Do you really Tinian,” continued the duchess, tapping \\VT foot? sharply on the deck, "that you are not go¬ ing to open that, you foolish I>oy? ' “Ido, with your grace’s leave,” I an¬ swered. “Or without my grace's leavo! Thar is what you mean," slio retorted pettishly, a red spot in each check. ‘ When people will not do what I ask, It is always grace! grace! graco! But I know them now.” I dared not smilo, and I would not look up, lest my heart should fatl me and I should give her her way. “You foolish boy!” sho again said nnd sniffed. Then with a toss of her head she went away, her husband following her obediently. I feared that site was grievously offend¬ ed, and I got up restlessly ami went across the deck to the rail on which Mistress Anne was leaning, meaning to say some¬ thing which should gain for me her sym¬ pathy, perhaps her advice. But the words died on my lips, for as I approached she turned her face abruptly toward me, and It was so white, so haggard, so drawn, that I uttered a cry of alarm. “Y’ou am ill!” I exclaimed. “Let mo call tho duchess!” Flic gripped my slecvo almost fiercely. “Hush!” she muttered. “Do nothing of the kind. I am not well. It is the water. But it will pass off, if you do not notice it. I hate to lie noticed,” sho added, with an angry shrug I was full of pity far her and reproached myself sorely. ‘ hat a selfish brute I have been. I said. “I on have watched by me night after night and nursed mo day after day, and 1 have scarcely thanked ><>«• And now you are ill yourself. It is my fault’. the looked at me. a wan smile on her faco. ‘ A little pcrlnps she answered faintly. ' But it is chiefly the water I shall be better present ly. About that iet I ter. Did you not come to speak to mo 1 about it { ,'. N HI i f vl you ' r miml not it lie now, down I said on nnxfou ho ,_____, g y j ! awhile pleaded. Let me give you my place, I j *o, no’. slio cried impatiently, ... and F, ’ ,r ''-’ ./ror , 'v*e| l )"on U desisted. Tiicl. i t r, ”sh show .t “You ..AY, 1 .,*1.*°''YL “.'IT' nfmvros^lution th tf > a truth, the strength of my resolution, l.^Kii' loTwinr” she repented, with a kind of scorn. ' The duchess will ^" ^yon you will give it to her. w fli!” Her tone was strangely querulous, and continually flashed keen, hltlw • ^ . ” ^ j thought * voly Uwl NO. 18 Castoria. “ Castoria is so well adapted to children that I recommend it as superior to any prescription known to me.” II. A. Archer. M. D. # hi So. Oxford St., Brooklyn, N. Y. “ Our physicians in the children's depart¬ ment have spoken highly of their experi¬ ence in their outside practice with Castoria, and although we only have among our medical supplies what is known as regular products, yet wc are free to confess that the merits of Castoria has won us to look with favor upon it." - United Hospital and Dispf.naaky, Boston, Mass. Allen C. Smith, Pres. ghe was 111 nnd excited, nnd I fancied it v? n s best to humor her. “Well, perhaps I shall,” I said soothingly. “Possibly. It is liaid to refuse her anything, nnd yet I hope I may not. Tho girl—it may tie's girl’s secret. ” “Well?" she asked, Interrupting me abruptly, her voice harsh nnd unmusical. “What of her?” She laid her hand on her bosom ns though to still somo sccrot pain. I looked at her, anxious and wondering, but she had again averted her (ace. “What of her?” site repeated. "Only that—1 would not willingly hurt her!” I blurted out. bho did not answer. Sho stood a mo¬ ment; then, to my surprise, slio turned away without a word, and merely com¬ manding mo by a gesture of tho hand not to follow walked slowly away. I watched her cross the deck and pass through tho doorway Into tho deckhouse. Fhodld not once turn her face, nnd my only fenr wa* that she was ill, morn seriously 111, pc.* haps, than sho had acknowledged. [to be continued.] All m V t V - i REGULATOR ) The Old Friend And the best friend, that neveor fails you, is Simmons Liver Regu¬ what lator, (tho Red Z)—that’s of th’s you hear at the mention excellent Liver medicine, and people should not he will persuaded do. that anything else It is the King of Liver Medi¬ cines; takes the is better place of than Quinine pills, and and Calomel. It acts directly on tho Liver, Kidneys and Bowels and gives new life to tho whole sys¬ tem. This is the medicine you want. Sold by all Druggists in Liquid, or in l’owdcr to be taken dry or made into a tea. WEVERT PACKAGE-®# Baa the X Stamp In red on wrappoib J. H. ZEILl.t h CO., IT!il»/i«!pl>l», Pk. To those living \ in malarial districts Tutt’s Pills are indispensable, they keep the system in perfect order and are an absolute cure j for sick headache, indigestion, malaria, torpid liver, constipa¬ 1 tion and all bilious diseases. Tutt’s Liver Pills ■ Pitcher’s Castoria. 40J&Q uojpuMO