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DARK DAYS BY HUGH CONWAY. Author of "Called Back.” CHAPTER IV. AT ALL COST, SLEEP! 7**'' Sir Mervyn Ferrand had paid for his sin with his life! Dead! Before I kneeled beside] him and, after unbuttoning his coat, laid uiy hand on his breast, I knew the man was dead. Be fore I turned the lantern on his white face I knew who the man was. Sir Mervyn Fer rand had paid for his sin with his life! It needed little professional skill to determine the cause of his death. A bullet fired, it seemed to me, at close quarters had passed absolutely through the heart. He must have fallen without a moan. Killed, 1 knew, by the hand of the woman lie had wronged. A sneering smile yet lingered on his set features. I could even imagine the words which had accompanied it, when swift and sudden, without one moment’s grace for repentence or confession, death had been meted out to him. At one moment he stood erect and full of life, mocking, it may be, her who had trusted him and had been be trayed; at the next, before the sentence he was speaking was completed, he lay lifeless at her feet, with the snow-flakes beginning to form his winding-sheet! Oh, it was vengeance! swift, deadly ven geance! But why, oh, why had she wreaked ’ it? Philippa, my peerless Philippa, a mur deress! Oh, it was too fearful, too horrible! I must be dreaming. All my own thoughts of revenge left me. It was for the time pity, sheer pity, I felt for the man, cut off in the prime of his life. While I knew he was alive I could look forward to and picture the min ute when we should stand coolly seeking tc kill one another, but now that he was dead I hated him no longer. Ah! death is asacred thing. Dead! Sir Mervyn Ferrand dead, and slain by Philippa! It could not be true! It should not be true! Yet I shuddered ns I remembered the passion she had thrown into those words, “Basil, did you ever hate a man?” I gave a low cry of anguish as I remembered h;w I had hurled from me the pistol she had let fall—the very weapon which had done the dreadful deed. Killed by Philippa! Not in a sudden burst of uncontrollable passion, but with deliber ate intent. She must have gone armed to meet him. She must have shot him through the heart; must have seen him fall. Then, only then, the horrible deed which she had wrought mnst have been fully realized! Then she had turned and fled from the spot in a frenzy. Oh, my poor girl! my poor girl! Utterly bewildered by my anguish I rose from my knees and stood for a while beside the corpse. It was in that moment I learned how much I really loved the woman who had done this thing. Over all my grief and horror this love rose paramount. At all cost I must save her—save her from the hands of justice; save her from the fierce elements which her tender frame was even at this moment braving. And as I recalled how she had sought me yesterday with the * tale of her wrong—how she had wildly fled from me a few minutes ago, madly, blindly into the night; as I thought of the injuries she had suffered, and which had led her to shed this man’s blood; as I contrasted her in her present position with what she was when first I knew her and loved her, the pity began to fade from my heart; my thoughts toward the lifeless form at my feet grew stern and sombre, and I found myself be ginning, by the old code of an eye for an eye, to justify, although I regretted Philip pa’s fearful act. Right or wrong, she was the woman I loved; and I swore I would save her from the consequences of her crime, even—Heaven help me!—if the accu sation, when made, must fall upon my shoulders. Yet it was not the beginning of any scheme to evade justice which induced me to raise the dead body and bear it to the side of the road, where I placed it under the low bank on which the hedge grew. It was the reverence which one pays to death made me do this. I could not leave the poor wretch lying in the very middle of the high way for the first passersby to stumble against. To-morrow he would, of course, ' be found. To-morrow the hue and cry would be out! To-morrow Philippa, my Philippa, would . Oh, heavens! never, never, never! So I laid what was left of Sir Mervyn Ferrand reventially by the side of the lonely road. I even tried to close his glassy eyes, and I covered his face with his own hand kerchief. Then, with heart holding fear and anguish enough for a lifetime, I turned and went in search of the poor unhappy girl. <► Where should I seek her? Who knew what her remorse may have urged her to do! Who knew whither her horror may have driven her? It needs but to find Philippa lifeless on the road to complete the heaviest tale of grief which can be exacted from one man in one short night! I clinched my teeth and rushed on. I had the road all the road to myself. No one was abroad in such weather. Indeed, few parsons were seen at night in any weather in this lonely part of the country. I made straight for my own house. The dis mal thought came to me that unless Phil ippa kept to the road she was lost to me forever. I ■ she strayed to the right or to the left, bow on sucli a night could I possi bly find her? My one hope was that she would go strei ht to my cottage; so thither I made the best of my way. If she had not I arrived, I must get what assistance I could and seek for her in the fields to the right and left of the road. It was a dreary comfort to remember that all the ponds and spaces fcf water were frozen six inches thick. [I hesitated a moment when I reached her Lite residence. Should I inquire if she had THE SAVANNAH DAILY TIMES, MONDAY, DECEMBER 29, 1884. returned thither? No: when morning re vealed the ghastly event of the night, my having done so would awake suspicion. Lot me first go home. Home at last. In a moment I shall know the worst. I opened the slide of my lan tern, which was still alight, and throw the rays on the path which led to my door. My heart gave a great bound of thankfulness. There on the snow, n t yet obliterated by more recent flakes, were the prints of a small foot. Philippa, as I prayed, but scarcely dared to hope she might, had come straight to my house. My man opened the door for me. It was well I had seen those footprints, as my knowledge of Philippa’s arrival enabled me to assume a natural air. “My sister has come?” I asked. “Yes, sir; about a quarter of an hour ago." “We missed each other on the road. What anight!” I said, throwing off my snow-cov ered coat. “Where is she now?” I asked. “In the sitting room, sir.” Then, lowering his voice, William added: “She seemed just about in a tantrum when she found you weren’t at home. I expect we shall find her a hard lady to please.” William, in spite of his stolidity, occa sionally ventured upon some liberty when ad dressing me. His words greatly surprised me. I forced myself to make some laughing rejoinder; then I turned the handle of the door and en tered the room in which Philippa hud taken refuge. Oh, how my heart throbbed! What would she say to me? What could I, fresh from that dreadful scene, say to her! Would she excuse or palliate, would she simply confess or boldly justify, her crime? Would she plead her wrongs in extenuation? Would she assert that in a moment of ungovernable rage she had done the deed? No matter what she said; she was still Philippa, and even at the cost of my own life and honor I would save her. Yet as I advanced into the room a shudder ran through me. Fresh to my mind came the remembrance of that white face, that still form, lying as I had left it, with the pure white snow falling thickly around it. Philippa was sitting in front of the fire. Her hat was removed, her dark hair dis heveled and gloaming wet with the snow which had melted in it. She must have heard me enter and close the door, but she took no notice. As I approached her she turned her shoulder upon me in a pettish way, and as one who by the action means to signify displeasure. I came to her side and stood over her, waiting for her to look up and speak first. She must speak first! What can I say, after all that has happened to-night? But she kept a stony silence—kept her eyes still turned from mine. At last I called her by her name, and, bending down, looked into her face. Its expression was one of sullen anger, and moreover, anger which seemed to deepen as she heard my voice. She made a kind of contemptuous gesture as if waving me aside. “Philippa," I said, as sternly as I could, “speak to me!" I laid my hand upon her arm. She shook it off fiercely, and then star ted to her feet. “You ask me to speak to you,” she said; “you who have treated me like this! Oh. it is shameful! shameful! I come through storm and snow—come to you, who were to welcome me as a brother! Where are you! Aw-ay, your wretched servant tells me. Why are you away? I trusted you! Oh, you are a pretty brother! If you had cared for me or respected me, you would have been here to greet me. No! you are all in a league— all in a league to ruin me! Now lam here, what will you do? Poison me, of course! kill me, and make away with me, even as that other doctor killed and made away with my poor child ? Hadid! Isay he did! I saw him do it! ‘A child of shame,’ he said; so he killed it! All, all, all—even you— you, whom I trusted—leagued against me!” She was trembling with excitement. Her words ran one into the other. It was as much as I could do to follow them; yet the above is but a brief condensation of what she said. With unchecked volubility she continued to heap reproaches and accusa tions, many of which were of the most ex travagant and frivolous nature, on my head. At last she was silent, and reseated herself in her former attitude; and the sul len, discontented, ill-used look again settled on her face. And yet, although I, vho loved her above all the world, was the object of her fierce reproaches, no words I had yet listened to came more sweetly to my ear than these. A great joy swept through me; a tide of relief bore me to comparative happiness. Whatever dreadful deed the poor girl had that night accomplished she was morally innocent. Philippa was not accountable for her actions! As a doctor I read the truth at once. The rapid flow of words, the changing moods, the vehement excitement, the sullen air, the groundless suspicions—one and all carried conviction, and told me what was wrong. Mrs. Wilson’s words of yesterday, which warned me that Philippa’s health should be inquired into, added absolute cer tainty. My professional brethren who may happen to read this will understand me when I say that, although it is long since I have prac ticed as a doctor, I am sorely tempted, as 1 reach this stage of my story, to give in de tail the particular! which induced me to ar rive at such a belief. No physician, no sur geon, lives who does not feel it his duty as well as bis pleasure to give an accurate ac count of any out-of-the-common case which has come under his notice. But I am no writing these pages for the benefit of science; and having no wish to make my tale assume the authority of a hospital report, shall re strain myself, end on technical points be as brief as possible. In short, then, Philippa had fallen a vic tim to that mania which not uncommonly shows itself after the birth of a child—that dread, mysterious disease which may, at the moment when everything seems going well, turn a house of joy into a house of mourn ing; a disease the source of which I have no hesitation in saying has not yet been prop erly traced and investigated. So far as I know, there is no monograph on the subject, or certainly there was none at that time. Still, it is admitted by all the authorities that this species of insanity is not’ unfre quentlv produced by a severe mental shock, “specially when that shock is accompanied by an overwhelming sense of shame. Sta tistics show us that umarried women who are mothers, and feel the degradation of such a position acutely, are peculiarly liable to be attacked by the mysterious malady. Esquirol was, I believe, the first to notice this fact, and the - correctness of his view has subsequently been confirmed by many others. Such being the case, it is small wonder ijhat Pnilippa, waking yesterday morning to receive the intelligence that her marriage i&ith Sir Mervyn Ferrand had been a farce, should have been thrown into a state ex lamely susceptible to the attack of the dis- ease. Tier careless exposure of herself to the wintry air, when laat night she sought me and claimed my aid, most probably hastened the attack of the foe. Mrs. Wilson had noticed her strange manner. 1 myself have remarked upon her rapid changes from calmness to excitability. It was clear to me that even when she visited me last night the mischief had begun to develop itself. I blamed my blindness bitterly. I ought to have seen what was wrong. Considering her agitated state, I ought to have been warned, and have taken precautions; but I had attributed those fitful changes, the meaning of which was now only too plain to me, to the natural agitation experienced by a passionate yet pure-minded woman, who found herself betrayed and brought to shanta. Oh, had 1 but guessed the real cause, or rather the way in which her grief bad affected her, all the dark work of that night might have been left undone! Although in many ways it added to the difficulties and dangers which surrounded us, the discovery of the truth was an un speakable relief to me. No right-minded man could now call the poor girl guilty of crime. The man’s blood was indeed on her hands; yet she had shed it, not knowing what she did. Her frenzy must then have been at its height. The idea of his coming that night must in some way have occurred to her. The desire to see him must have driven her to go and meet him. Her wrongs —perhaps the dread she now felt of him—may have induced her to arm herself; per aps she carried the weapon for self-protection. Any way, she was mad when she started; she was mad when she drew the trigger; she was mad when she broke from my grasp; she was mad now as she sat by my fire,eyeing me with morose, suspicious glances. She was mad—and innocent! Her manner toward me troubled me but little. It is a well-known peculiarity of the disease that the patient turns with hatred from those who were the nearest and dearest to her. Fits of sullen, stubborn silence, al ternating with fierce outbursts of vitupera tion, are the most common characteristics of the mania. Hideous, startling as it is to see the change wrought in the sufferer, the malady is by no means of such au alarming nature as it seems. In fact the majority of oases are treated with perfect success. But all this is professional talk. Again p say that the discovery of Philippa’s state of mind was an immense relief to me. My conscience was cleared of a weight which was pressing upon it. I felt braced up to use every effort, and thoroughly justified in following whatever course 1 thought best. Moreover, a new relationship was now es tablished between Philippa and invself. For awhile every feeling save one must be ban ished. We were now doctor and patient. After much persuasion I induced her to let me feel her pulse. As I expected, I f ound it up nearly to one hundred and twenty. This did not alarm mo much, as in the course of my practice I had seen several of these oases. The preliminary treatment was sim ple as A B C; at all cost sleep must be ob tained. Fortunately, I had a well stocked medi cine chest. In a few minutes I had pre pared the strongest dose of opium which I dared to administer. In such a case as the present I knew that no driblets would avail; so I measured out no less than sixty drops of laudanum. Sleep the girl must have. That poor seething, boiling brain must by artificial means be forced to rest for hours. After that rest 1 should be able to say what chance there was of saving life and reason. But preparing a dose of medicine and making a patient like this to take it, are two different things. I tried every art, every persuasion. I implored and commanded. I threatened and insisted. Philippa was ob durate. Poor soul! she knew I meant to poison her. On my part, I kne w that unless she swallowed that narcotic to night her case was all but hopeless. I rested for awhile; then I sent for luke warm water. After some resistance she suf fered me to bathe her throbbing temples. The refreshing coolness which followed the operation was so grateful to her that she let me repeat the action again and again. A soft and more contented look settled on her beautiful face. I seized the moment. Once more I pressed the potion upon her. This time successfully. My heart trembled with joy as I saw her swallow the drug. Now she might be saved! I still continued the comforting laving of her temples, and waited until the drug took its due effect. By and by that moment came. The large dark eyes closed, the weary head sank heavily on my shoulder, and I knew that Philippa had entered upon a term of merciful oblivion. I waited until her sleep was sound as the sleep of death; then I summoned my man. I had already told him that my sister was very ill. Between us we bore her to her room and laid her on her bed. I loosened her dress, cut the wet boots from her cold feet, did all I could to promote warmth and such comfort as was possible under the cir cumstances. Then I left her, sleeping that heavy sleep which I prayed might last un broken for hours, and hours, and hours. [TO BE CONTINUED IN OUR NEXT.] Ridge. Mclntosh County, Ga. Dr. J. Bradfi"ld—Dear Sir: I have taken several bottles of your Female Regulator for falling of the womb and other diseases com bined, of 16 years standing, and 1 really be lieve 1 am cured entirely, for which please ac cept my heartfelt thanks and most profound gratitude. I know your medicine saved my life, so you see I cannot speak too highly in in its favor. I have recommended it to sev eral of my friends who are suffering as I was, Yours, very respectfully, MRS. W. E. STEBBINS. Treatise on the Health and Happiness of Woman mailed free. Bradfield Regulator Co., Box 28, Atlanta, Ga. Mr. Henry Thompson, Savannah, says: “I felt all broken up, had no appetite and my liver did not seem to work right. I used Brown’s Iron Bitters and it made me well. lam a firm believer in the merits of Brown’s Iron Bitters.” For the accommodation or our patrons we have established a Tailoring Department, where any garment bought of us can be al tered to stilt the taste of the most fastidious, tree of charge. We invite the public to call and look through our establishment, which is by far the largest In the city. B. H. Levy & Bho.’s Mis. D. J. Johnson, Augusta, Ga., says : ‘I had no appetite and was feeling very weak and bad generally, I took Brown’s Iron Bitters, and must say it helped me wonderfully.” Skin Disease—Swa, ie’s Ointment. “Swayne’s Ointment” cures Tetter, Sall Rheum, Ringworms, Sores, Pimples, Eczem no matter how obstinate or long standing. Mr. S. Binswanger, 141 Congress street Savannah, says: “I have used Brown’s Iron Bitters in my family with entire satis faction ’’ The prettiest goods for men, youths and boys in the city can be found at B. H Levy & Rro.’s. lit the latest style and low prices in gents urnishing goods, L. Fried’s Is the place • Atlanta Druggists. Atlanta, October 13, 1884. We began handling B. B. B. from i-s first exist ence a few months ago, and have never heard a word of dissatisfaction expressed relative to iis merits, but have heard it very extravagantly praised bj those who have used it. Its sale with us is rapidly increasing, and we now buy it in three gross lots. HOWARD <t CANDLER, Wholesale Druggists. Office of JACOB’S PH ARM ACY, | Atlanta, June 13, 1884.| Six months ago we had no demand for B. B. B-, but now our retail demand is such that we are forced to buy in two gross lots. We attribute the rapid and enormous demand to the comparative size and price of B B. 8., and its positive merit. It sells well and gives our customers entire satis faction. Our sales have increased SCO per cent, within a few months. JACOB’S PHARMACY, Per Fredß. Palmer, M. D. Atlanta, June 12, 1884. We have been handling B. B B. only a few months, and take pleasure in saying it is super seding all other Blood Reme ies It sells well gives our customers entire satisfaction, and we cheerfully recommend it in preference to auy other Blood Purifier. ASHER & MOORE, Druggists. SCHUMANN,S PHARMACY, 1 A l n a, June 16,1884. J Since I have begun handling the B. B B , which is about three or four month -, it grows so much inpopularlt , ard its sales increased so much, thi’t I have to buy it in gross lots as it sells quite rapidly. THEO. SCHLMANN. Atlanta, June 12, 1884. During the past few months I have given B B. B. severe tests in the cure of Blood Diseases, and unhesitatingly pronounce it a safe, sure, harmless and speedy Blood Purifier, fully meriting the con fidence of the public My customers are delight ed with i ts effects, ard the demand has so wonder fully increased that 1 have been compelled to buy by the gross, as it is the he -t selling blood reme dy 1 handle. W. A. GRAHAM, Druggist Atlanta, June 12, 188 L We find the sale of B B. B. largely on the in crease, and as a Blood Purifier we consider it first class. ’Tis one of the best selling medicines we handle. SHARP BROS., Druggists. O CtLIURATED fever and ague, * f liver complaint, JgMX inactivity of the kidneysand blad /pspwv X' der, constipation and other organ ic maladies, llos -1•‘ 11 er ’ s Stomach Bittersis a tried Vd icS'! brotherhood nave lent their professional sanc tion, and which __ as a tonic, altera t tlve and house- « g 0 ** stomach, liver and bowels has an unbounded popularity. For sale by Druggists and Dealers, to whom pply for Hostetter s Almanac for 188-5. Christa Music Thi-4 is the time of the year when we blossom out with musi cal novelties suitable for Christ mas Presents for musical cranks of high or low degree. We are on hand this year with a million, more or less, of appropriate and valuable MUSICAL GIFTS. CAST YOUR OPTICS ON THIS LIST : MUSIC BOXES. The sweatest music in the world. Equals the chink of gold dollars. 50 styles from 81 each to 8100. Special bargains. CHILDREN’S PIANOS. Uprights and Squares. The cutest things you ever saw. Children can learn on them as well as on large Pianos. From $1 50 to S2O each. Automatic Musical Instruments. Orguinettes only $6, with 5 tunes. Eu phomas only $7 .50, with 4 tunes. Musi-1 cal Caskets SB. Celesteons sls. Prices on these wonderful mechanical instru ments reduced one-half. Children can play them. METALLAPHONES, With Steel and Wooden Bars. A large variety, from sc. each to $5. MUSIC FOLIOS. Illuminated Covers, very handsome from 81 to 85 each. PIANO COVERS. Richest patterns ever produced. Prices very low. Ladles, look at these. They are beaut iful and cheap. Toy Cornets, Toy Trombones, Toy Banjos, Toy Violins, Guitars, Flutes, Accor doe>.s, Concertinas, Harmoni cas, Fifes, Tamborines. Toy Drums, Toy Drums. kih 2i Sates Ht Heuss. ’ AMERICAN W ELECTRIC LIGHT, 60c. -JvL “ A complete model Incandes f N cent 'Electric Lamp, with Bat l -J tery, Stand, Globe, Blatina Bur- ST ner, Wire, Ac., with instructions vly for putting in perfect operation, JU£ will be sent, post-paid, for 66 cts. FREDERICK LOWEY, 96 Fulton street, New York, HAMILTON’S CHRISTMAS COLUMN. IF YOU WANT A FINE— Diamond Ring, Lace Pin, Ear Drops, Studs, Sleeve Buttons, Bracelets, FOR CHRISTMAS! GO TO HAMILTON’S. I IF YOU WANT A Ladies’, Gent’s OR ZBOY’S WATCH! FOR CHRISTMA ! GO TO HAMILTON’S IF YOU WANT.AN ARTICLE OF Solid fam it? Christni:! GO IO HAMILTONS IF YOU WANT THE Latest Styles of Jewelry FOR CHRISTMAS! GO TO HAMILTON’S IF YOU WANT A FINE French Clock! FOR CHRISTMAS! GO TO HAMILTON’S —IF YOU WANT ANY ARTICLE OF- Fancy Goo d s! FOR CHRISTMAS! GO TO HAMILTONS IF YOU WANT First Class Goods! IN ANY OF THE ABOVE LINES FOR CHRISTMAS GO TO MLP. HAMM’S, Cor. Bill and Broughton Sts. | DRUGS AND MEDICINES. ive iiavi: Our usual .’HANDSOME ASSORTMENT OF NOVELTIES Suitable for GIFTS, WEDDING, CHRIST MAS and NEW YEAR PRESENTS. Odor Caskets, Cases, Sets and Stands, FANCY BOTTLES, Toilet Sets, Vases, FINE SOAPS AND PERFUMERY, Ivory aud Celluloid Hair Brushes, FRENCH AND AMERICAN PLATE HAND MIRRORS and other Toilet Requisites. G. M. HEIDT & CO., DRUGGISTS, Corner Congress and Whitaker streets. Sliuptrine’s New Pharmacy, Bolton and Montgomery streets. FI K E DRUGS Dispensed by Carefnl and Expe rienced Druggists. Peas. Peas. Just Received, Fresh and Reliable. NEW CROP BLACK EYED MARROWFAT, PHILADELPHIA EXTRA EARLY. Also a full line of FRESH GARDEN SEEDS, FOR SALE BY VI. A. IJzVIt IE, Druggist and Seedsman, Southeast cor. West Broad and Bryan streets. BARK AHOY! Not that barque which spreads its sails to the favoring gale and with every canvas drawing taut, sails the sea, a thing of life and beauty, but that bark which comes from a cold and hastens the traveler to that port from whence there is no return. For this bark use “COUGH AND LUNG BALSAM.” It is the best medicine ever presented for coughs, colds and hoarseness, and for four seasons has given entire satisfaction. Price I 25 cents. Prepared only by DAVID PORTER, Druggist, Corner Broughton aud Habersham streets. J. c. c. c. c. _____ Japanese taj CLEANS CLOTHES, Removes all Grease, Paints, Oils, Varnish Tar, Dirt or Soils from any fabric without injury. FOR SALE BY J. R. Haiti wan g-er, Cor Broughton and Drayton streets. ' I Also sold by L. C. Strong aud E. A. Knapp To Clean Your Last Winter’s Suit or Anything Else Use “Household Cleaning Fluid.” It removes grease spots, stains, dirt, etc., from woolen, cotton, silk and laces, without injuring the most delicate fabric. Prepared only by DAVID PORTER, Druggist, , Corner Broughton and Habersham streets. TWJTR.W. W. CARTER, Savannah, says: J have used Brown’s Iron Bitters with great benefit and I shall ever recommend it' and gJhuni Savannah Club, Livery & Board Stables, Corner; Drayton, McDonough and Hull sts. A. W. HARMON, Prop’r. Headquarters for fine Turn-Outs. Personal attention given to Boarding Horses. Tele phone No. 205, TO THEPUBLIC. Owing tojthe present occupant’s lease not expiring until January Ist, 1885, I will not take possession of PULASKI HOUSE STA- ( BLES until that date. E. C. GLEASON. MR. W. .1. O’BRIEN, 25 West Broad street, I'l Savannah, says: I was troubled with, weakness, accompanied by dizziness and general weakness. Brown’s Iron Bitters gave me complete relief. CUKE FOR PILES. \ of Piles is twiing at ifljfeit after getting w:y»? 'wis flpleasant sensation is Ived by an application of I'n Bosank>B ’ile Remedy. Piles in all forms, Itch, Salt lheum and Ringworm can be permanently ured by the use of this great remedy. Price 10 cents. Manufactured by The Dr. Rnaankc, Medicine Co., Pi; ua, Q. Sold by Osceola Butler and E. J. Kieffer. MRS.’ M. A. E. KIRKSEY, 59 Whitaker Hl street, Savannah, says: Brown's Iron Bitters did me much good when troubled with dyspepsia. 1 found it to be all that is claimed for It, 7