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I DARK J) AYS. BY HUGH CONWAY. Author of "Called Baek.” CHAPTER IX. SAFE—AND LOVED. Now that w» are safe in Spain; now that Philippa's arrest is a matter of impossibil ity, and her expulsion from a country so lax in its observance of international obliga tions highly improbable, when her guilt can at the utmost be only suspected, if indeed suspicion ever points to her, I may pass rapidly over the events of the next two months; the more so as my record of them would differ very little from the description of an ordinary tour in Spain. To me, after the feverish anxiety, the horrible dread as to what any hour might bring forth, which had characterized our flight from England, it seemed something very much like bathos my dropping at once into the position of the everyday tourist taking a couple of ladies on a round of travel; but for the time I was outwardly neither more nor less. From Burgos we went to Valladolid; from Valladolid to Madrid—Madrid, the high perched city, with its arid, uninteresting surroundings and abominable climate. | (Not long did we linger here. Bad and trying as the English winter may be, the cold of Mad rid is a poor exchange for it I had almost thrown aside the assumed character of an Invalid; but I felt it would be the height of inconsistency, after forcing my companions to accompany me in search of warmth, to make any stay in the Spanish capital. Righ* glad I was to leave it, and turn my face southward. Philippa was by now in appa rently good health, both bodily and mental; but while at Madrid I trembled for her, as I should tremble for any one I loved who made that city a resting-place—a city swept from end to end by crafty, treacherous, icy winds blowing straight from the Guadar rama mountains; insidious blasts in which lurk the seeds of consumption and death. So at our leisure we went southward, halt ing at such places and seeing such sights as we thought fit; lingering here and there just so long as it suited us; travelling by easy I stages and in such comfort as we could I command. At Malaga we spent weeks, rev elling in theibalmy, delicious air; at Grana da we were days and weeks before we could tear ourselves away from the interesting, absorbing glories of the departed Moor. We were in a new world—a world which I had I always longed to see. At last—it was just ’ at the end of April, when the land was full of roses, when vegetation was breaking into that rich luxuriance unknown in the north ern lands—we turned our steps to the city which I had in my own mind fixed upon as the end of our wanderings, the hall’ Spanish, half Moorish, but wholly beautiful city of Seville; brilliant, romantic Seville, with its flower-bedecked houses, its groves of orange and olive trees, its luxuriant girdens, its crooked, narrow streets, its Moorish walls, 1 its numerous towers, all of which sink into Insignificance under the shadow of the lofty Giralda. All I wanted seemed to be here. Here was everything for the sake of seeking which I had professed to leave foggy England—sun, warmth, color, bright ness. Here I thought, if in any place in the world, will the one I love forget what she knows of the cruel past. Here it may be our now life shall begin. Glorious, wonderful Seville! The magic charm of the place fell on my companions as it fell upon me, as indeed it falls upon all who visit it. By common consent we ar ranged to stay our course for an indefinite time. Perhaps by now we all thought we had endured enough of hotel life, and wanted some place which might bear the name of home: so, although such things are not very easy to find, I hired a furnished house. Such a house! From the narrow street—the. need of shade makes narrow streets indispensable to Se ville—pass through a light openwork iron gate into a spacious white marble lined courtyard, or, as the Spaniards call it, patio; a courtyard open to the sky. save for the gayly colored awning which is some times spread over it; a space fragrant to the four corners with the perfume of orange and other sweet smelling blossoms, bright with glowing oleanders, and musical with the murmur of fountains. Around the walls statues, some of the fair works of art, paint ings and mirrors Every sitting room in the house opening on to this cool central fairyland—a fairyland which, for many months of the year, is almost the only pan' of the house used in their waking hours by the Sevillain s. Add to this a garden, mt large but exquisite, full of the rarest and choicest blossoms, and if you are not hope lessly bigoted, and enamored of English fogs, you must long for such a home in courtly, beautiful Seville! With such surroundings—almost those oi a Sybarite—who can blame me for being lulled into security, if not forgetfulness, and for telling myself that my troubles were nearly at an end? Who can wonder at the castles I built as hour after hour I lounged in the patio, with its fragrant, soothing at mosphere and gazed at Philippa’s beautifu face, and now and again meeting her dark eyes, and sometimes surprising in those thoughtful depths a look which thrilled my heart—a look which I told myself was on of love? True, that often and often in my sleep 1 saw the white, dead face, with the snow, heap forming over it. True, that often and often Philippa’s wild cry, “The wag as of sin—on, on, on!" rang through my dre m-'. and I awoke trembling in every limb; but in the daytime, in the midst of the sweet shaded repose, 1 could almost banish every memory, every thought which strove to lead me back to grief and horror. The days, each one sweeter than its fore runner, passed by. Each day was pass'd with Philippa. We wandered for hours through the marvellous gardens of the Al k cazar; we drove under the shading trees oi ft Las Delicias; we made excursions to Italica g and other places, which the guide-book tells you every visitor to Seville should see; but I think we found in the ordinary sights, which were at our very door, as much pleasure as in any of the stock shows. We loved to watch the people. We delighted in the pic turesque, ragged-looking, black-eyed Anda lusian boy-rascals who played and romped at every street corner. Wo noticed the ex quisitely graceful figures of the Sevillanas: J, moreover, noted that the most graceful of these figures could not be compared to Phil ippa’s own. We strolled up the awning roofed Calle de las Sierpes, and laughed at the curious windowless little shops. Every thing was so strange, so bright, so teeming with old-world tradition, so full of intense interest, that no wonder I could for the time send painful memories to the back ground. And Philippa? Although there were times when her face grew sad with sad re- L membrances; although at times her eyes mine with that troubled, inquiring Mr -ok; although I trembled as to what might M I the question which I seemed to see her THE SAVANNAH DAILY TIMES, SUNDAY, JANUARY 4, 1885. lips about to form; I did not, could not be lieve she was entirely Unhappy. The smile —a quiet, thoughtful one, yet a smile—was oftener seen on her face. It came now of its own accord. More and more certain I grew that, if nothing recalled the past, or I should say, if nothing filled the blank, so mercifully left, of that one night, the hour was not far distant when my love would call herself happy. Oh, to keep that fatal knowledge from her foie ver I Such was my life. So, in calm and peace, all but happiness, the days passed by, until the hour came when for the third time I dared to tell Philippa that I loved her—to tell her so with the certainty of hearing her re-echo my words. Yes, certainty. Had I not for many days seen her eyes grow brighter, the grave, thoughtful look leave her face, her whole manner change when I drew near? Such signs as these told me that the crowning moment of my life was at hand. Here for one moment I pause. I scorn to excuse myself for w ishing to marry a woman who had been, or supposed herself to have been, the innocent victim of a scoundrelly man of the world. I have nothing in com mon with those who think such an excuse is needed. Mrs. Wilson’s statement that the marriage was valid might bo true or false. It gave me the impression that it was true, and I believed that Philippa could lay claim to bear the man’s accursed name. But whether she was Lady Ferrand, or a trust ing woman betrayed, for my own sake I cared little. She was Philippa! As to my intention of maiTying, my one wish to marry a woman who, in her tem porary and fully-accountod-for delirium, had killed the man who so cruelly wronged her, I have but this to say. My tale, al though I give it to the world, is not written for the purpose of fiction. It is ths story of myself—a story which seemed to me worth telling—of a man who loved one woman passionately, blindly' and without consideration. Such was my grant love for Philippa that I feel no shame in telling th' utli, and saying that had I seen her, in full possession of her senses, level that pistol and shoot her betrayer through his black heart, I should have held that only justice had been done. I should have regretted the act, but nevertheless I would have pleaded for her love as feryently and reverently as 1 was now about to pl< ad for it. Once more I say, if you condemn me throw the book aside. Philippa, with her eyes half closed, was, as was usual at that hour, sitting in tho pa tio. In tier hand she held a sprig of orange blossoms, and ever and anon inhaled its de licious perfume; an action, by the by, scarcely n-edful, as tho whole air was redo lent of the fragrance thrown from the groat tree in tho centre of tho marble space. She was, or fancied she Was, alone, as some little time before I had left the court to obtain a fresh supply of cigarettes; and my mother, who could never quite adapt herself to the semi-open-air life, was taking a siesta in the drawing room. As I saw Philippa in all her glowing beauty, the white marble against which she leaned making as it were a suit able foil to the warm color of her cheek—the long, curved, black, downcast lashes—the bosom rising and falling gently—like an in spiration the thought came to me that in a minute my fatq, would be decided. Heavens! how could I have waited so long to hear the words which I knew she would say? I crept noiselessly to her side. I passed my arm round her waist and drew her to me. I whispered words of passionate love in her ear —words, the confidence of which startled mo; but then this time I knew that my love of years was to be rewarded. She did not shrink away, she did not struggle to free herself, but she trembled like a leaf in my embrace. She sighed deeply, even hopelessly, and I saw the tears welling in her dark eyes. Closer and firmer I held her, and kissed her cheek again and again. Had that moment been my last I should have said that I had not lived in vain. “Philippa,” I whispered, “my queen, my love, tell me you love me at last." She was silent. The tears broke from her eyes and ran down her cheeks. I kissed the signs of sorrow away. “Dearest,” I said, “it is answer enough that you suffer these kisses, but I have waited so long—been so unhappy; look at me and satisfy me; let me hear you say, ‘1 love youl’ " She turned her tearful eyes to mine, but not for long. She cast her looks upon the ground and was still silent. Yet she lay un resisting in my arms. That, after ail, was the true answer. But I must have it from her lips. “Tell me, dearest —tell me once,” I prayed. Her lips quivered; her bosom rose and fell. The blush spread from her cheek and stole down her white neck. “Yes,” she murmured, “now that it is too late, I love you.” 1 laughed a wild laugh. I clasped Philippa to my breast. “Too late!” I cried. “We may have fifty years of happiness.” “It is too late,” she answered. “For your sake I have told you that I love you, Basil. My love, I will kiss you once—then loos me, and let us say farewell.” “When death closes the eyes of one of us we will say farew-ell—not until then,” I said, as my lips met hers in a long and rapturous kiss. Then with a sigh she gently but firmly freed herself from my arms. She rose, we stood on the marble floor, face to face, gaz ing in each other’s eyes. “Basil,” she said, softly, “all this must be forgotten. Say farewell; to-morrow we must part.” “Dearest, our lives henceforth are one.” “It cannot be. Spare me, Basil! You have been kind to me. It cannot be.” “Why? Tell me why?” “Why! need you ask? You bear an honored and respected name; and I, you know what I am—a shamed woman.” “A wronged woman, it may be, not a shamed one." “Ahl Basil, in this world, when a woman is concerned; wronged and shamed mean the same thing. You have been as a bro ther to me. I came to you in my trouble; you saved my life—my reason. Be kinder still, and spare me the pain of paining you.” By look, by word, by gesture, she seemed to beseech me. Oh, how I longed to tel her that I firmly believed she was the dead man’s wife! I bad much difficulty in chocking the words which were forming on my lips. But I dared not speak. Telling her that the marriage was a valid one meant that I must tell her of her husband’s death, and, it might be, how he died. “Philippa," I said, “the whole happiness of my life, my every desire is centred upon making you my wife. Think, dearest, how when 1 had no right to demand the gift my life was made desolate; think what it will be when 1 know you love me and yet refuse to be mine! Have I been true to you, Philippa?” “Heaven knows you have.” “Then why, now that you love me, refuse me my reward?" “Oh, spare me! I cannot, I will not give it. Basil, dear Basil, why with your 'talents should you marry the cnst-off—mis tress—of Sir Mervyn Ferrand? Why should you blush to show your wife to the world?” “Blush! Tho world! What is my world save you? You are all to me, sweetest. You love me—what more do I want? Before this time next week we will bo married.” “Never, never! I will not wrong tho man I love. Basil, farewell forever!" She clasped her hands and fled wildly across the court I caught her at tho door, which she had reached and halt opened. “Promise me one thing,” I said; “promise you will wait here until my return. I shall not be five minutes. It is not much to ask, Philippa,” Philippa bent her head as in assent I passed through the doors, and in a few min utes returned to the patio, accompanied by my mother, who glanced from Philippa to mo in a surprised way. “What is the matter?” she asked, with her cheerful smile. "Have you two young peo ple been quarrelling?" Philippa madeno answer. She stood with her fingers interlaced; her eyes cast on the ground. “Mother,” I said, “I have to-day asked Philippa to be my wife. I have told her that all my happiness depends upon her con sent to this. I have loved her for years; and at last site loves me. Yes, she loves me.” My mother gave a little cry of pleasure, and stepped forward. I checked her. “I love her, and she loves me,” I con tinued. “But she refuses to marry me. And why? Because she fears to bring shame on an honorable name. You know her story; you are my mother. You, of all peo ple in tho world, should be the most jealous as to the honor of my name. You should know whom you would choose for my wife. Tell her—” I said no more. My mother advanced with outstretched arms, and in a moment my poor girl was weeping in her embrace, while words which I could not hear, but whose purport I could well guess, were be ing whispered to her. I had indeed been right in trusting to my mother’s noble nature. “Leave us for a little while, Basil,” she said, as Philippa still sobbed upon her shoul der. ‘ ‘Come back in a quarter of an hour’, time.” ws® wMvS ‘*What is the matter/” she asked. “Have you two young people been quarrelling I turned away, wont past the screen which is sometimes put up to insure privacy, out at the iron gate, into the narrow street. I watched the lounging, dignified-looking men and the dark eyed women who went by; I looked at the merry urchins at play; and, after what seemed an interminable quarter jf an hour, returned to learn how my gen tle counsel had succeeded with my suit. My mother and Philippa were sitting with their arms around each other. Philippa, as I entered the patio, raised her eyes to mine with a look of shy happiness. My mother rose and took the girl by the hand. “Basil,” she said, “I have at last been able to persuade her that you and I, at least, rise above the conventionalities of what is called the world. I have told her that, knowing all I know, I see nothing to prevent her from being your wife. I have told her that simply for her own sweet sake I would rather see you marry her than any woman in the world. And, Basil, I fancy I have made her believe me.” With her soft eyes full of maternal love my mother kissed me and left the court. I opened my arms to close them round the fairest woman in the world, and all the ?arth seemed bright and glorious’ to me. dy great love had conquered! And yet, even in that moment of bliss, my thoughts involuntarily flew away to a mow-heaped road in England—to a white drift, under which for days and days a glmstly object had once been lying. A dream! a dream! It must have been a fear ful dream. Forget it, Basil North, and be nappy in the happiness you have at last [TO BE CONTINUED IN OUR NEXT.] MOTHERS. If you are failing; broken, worn out and nervous, use “Wells’ Health Renewer.” sl. Druggists. A Prominent Farmer Writes. Robert Station, Jones County, Ga., June 20th 1884—By the recommendation of Rev. C. C. Davis used Dr. Mozely’s Lemon Elixir for indigestion, de lility and nervous prostration, having been a great sufferer for years and tried all known remedies for these diseases, all of which failed. Five boitles of Lemon Elixir made a new man of me and restored my strength and energy so that I can attend to my 'arm with all ease and comfort. Refer any one to me. Your friend, William B. Emerson. A Card From Cuthbert. This is to certify that I used Dr. Mozley’s Lemon Elixir for neuralgia of the head and eyes with the most marked benefits to my general health. 1 would gladly have paid SSOO for the relief it has given me at a cost of two or three dollars. H. A. Beall, Clerk Superior Court, Randolph Co Cuthbert, Ga., June 21, 1884. D r . Mozley’s Lemon Elixir, prepared at his drug >tore, 114 Whitehall street, Atlanta, Ga. It cures all billiousness, constipation, indigestion, headache, malaria, kidney disease, fever, chills, im purities of the blood, loss of appetite, debility and nervous prostration by regulating the Liver. Stomach, Bowels, Kidneys and Blood. Lemon Elixir is prepared from the fresh juice of lemons, combined with other vegetable liver tonics, cathartics, aromatic stimulants and blood purifiers Fifty cents for one half pint bottle, one dollar for pint and half bottle. Sold by druggists generally nd by all wholesale Druggists. YOUNG MEN!—READ HIS. The Voltaic Belt Co., of Marshall, Mich., )ffer to send their celebrated Electro-Voltaic Belt and other Electric Appliances on trial for thirty days, to men (young or old( afflict ed with nervous debility, loss of vitality and manhood, and all kindred troubles. Also for rheumatism, neuralgia, paralysis, and many other diseases. Complete restoration to health, vigor and manhood guaranteed. No risk is incurred, as thirj- days’ trial is al owed W rite tor them at once for Illustrated pamphlet free. “ Oh, might I kiss those eyes of fire. Ten thousand scarce would quench desire; Still would I steep my lips in bliss, And dwell an age on every kiss.” That young dude needs something for his blood, he is utterly too fresh. B B B is the best thing for him, because one bottle will cure him. But that dude is not all alone in his terrestrial glory; not by a jug full.” Many others are considerably “rattled” jus now about that blood-poison business, but B B B wil cure for the least money and in the shortest time The boom is coining. Purify, purify. Next to a walking match is Mr > R Saulter’B walk ng 15 miles in one day, fishing and hunting. He lives at Athens, Ga, Is 75 years old, has had a running ulcer on his leg 50 years—one half a century—and previous to that day had not walked over half a mile per day for 30 years. Mr Saul ter, the Banner Watchman and Rev Dr Calvin Johnson say that B B B cured this ulcer and res »ored him. Was it faith cure? He was blind as a bat, bald headed, his neck a horrid miss of putrid corruption appetite gone, feeble and emaciated, the picture of a starved skeleton, and only six years old. For three years doctors and medicines made no Impression on the scrofulnus complaint. * * * * A few months afterward his eyes sparkled in gladness, flesh had leaped to his bones, hair to his head, end rejuvenation to his whole constitution. Was it faith or a miracle? It was the result of B B B, and it is the best on the market. “Oh, Josie ” said little gleeful Maud, “we are going to have some honey made at our house.” “How do you know ?” asked Joeie. “Because mamma sent the servant after three B’s, and I don’t know whar bees are good for only to make honey.” * nthony Comstock says: “Thecauses of so many business failures are unholy living, dishonest prac tices and intemperance,” and ihe failure to use B B B to fix the blood all right. “Hannah Jane I’se gwine rite up town fnr to git one ob dem 32-page books what tells all about dat scrofulousness what makes so many biles on Zeke’s nake. “Better git some adwise’bout dese big sores on me an’ de rumatiz in d c m ole jints o’ yourn,” re plied bis wife. “Jesso; dat’s de very book. Hit tell' all about de blud, de skiu, de jints, de kidney ’fee. dons, an’ de sores to. I’m gwine rite to de B B B office an’ git one er dem valerble books.” For sale by Ofce-la Butler; Savannah, Ga. Christmas Music This 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 SIOO. 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 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 85. MUSIC FOLIOS. Illuminated Covers, very handsome from 81 to 85 each. PIANO COVERS. Richest patterns ever produced. Prices very low. Ladies, look at these. They are beautiful and cheap. Toy Cornets, Toy Trombones, Toy Banjos, Toy Violins, Guitars, Flutes, Accor doeus, Concertinas, Harmoni cas, Fifes, Tamborines. Toy Drums, Toy Drums. Usd & to Music House. VI. T. QUINAN, Manufacturer of Soda, Sarsaparilla, Ginger Ale, Sipuons Plain Soda, Etc. Having purchased the business lately con tacted by Mr. F. MEINCKE, at the old stand of Mr. JOHN RYAN, 110 and 112 Brough ton street, I am now prepared to furnish everything in my line at reasonable prices. I will guarantee goods equal to any put up in my part of the United States. Will shortly be prepared to furnish the various Mineral Waters in siphons and bot tles. Having a large number of Fountains, I art prepared to supply those who draw from them Churches, Schools, Benevolent and Chari table Institutions holding Fairs, Festivals or Picnics can be assured of a liberal discount. All orders from the country will receive prompt and careful attention. Telephone No. 252. Thankful for the many favors shown mt in the past, I hope, by strict attention t< merit the patronage of all my old and many new friends in my “new departure.” Al. T. QUINAN. 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. IF YOU WANT A Ladies’, Gent’s OR BOY’S WAT CH! FOR CHRISTMA ! GO TO HAMILTON’S IF YOU WANTJAN ARTICLE OF toil Storm lot Christinas I GO IO HAMILTONS IF YOU WANT THE W Styles oi hwelry FOR CHRISTMAS! 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 HAMILTON’S IF YOU WANT First Class Goods! IN ANY OF THE ABOVE LINES FOR CHRISTMAS GO TO SAMUEL P. HAMttWS, Cor. Bull and Broughton Sts. DRUGS AND MEDICINES. Shnptrine’s New Pharmacy, Bolton and Montgomery streets. PURE DRUGS Dispensed by Carefill and Expe rienced Druggists. BARK AHOY I 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 thia 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 25 cents. Prepared only by DAVID PORTER, Druggist, Corner Broughton and Habersham streets. J. c._u c. c. JjpiO Jljjjjing Jfjjß CLEANS CLOTHES, Removes all Grease, Paints, Oils, Varnish Tar, Dirt or Soils from any fabric without injury. FOR SALE BY J. R. Haltiwang-er, Cor Broughton and Drayton streets. Also sold by L. C. Strong and 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. (gfluratiml. Sttol ol Practical Hdgi I Phonography, Typewriting, Telegraphing - , Bookkeeping, Penmanship. No. 137 Bay street. Savannah, Ga. Mr. and Mbs. C. S. RICHMOND, Principals. and livery REMOVED. = I have removed my entire livery establish ment from York street to the Pulaski House Stables where I may hereafter be found. All orders for carriages and buggies promptly attended to. Fine Saddle Horses for hire. f E. C. GLEASON, Proprietor Pulaski House Stables. Savannah Club, Livery Hoard Stables. Corner Drayton, McDonough and Hull stfi. | A. W. HARMON, Prop’r. Headquarters for fine Turn-Outs. Personal • attention given to Boarding Horses. Tele- I phone No. 205. LUMBER AND TIMBER. BACON, JOHNSON & CO’ PLANING MILL, LUMBER AND WOOD YARD. LARGE.STOCK OF DRESSED AND ROUGH LUMBER AT LOW PRICES! 4^-Good Lot of Wood Just Received. J. J. McDonough. T. B. Thompson. Ed. Bubdett. McDonough & co., Office : 116 J Bryan street. Yellow Pine Lumber. Lumber Yard and Planing Mill: Opposite 8., F. & W. Railway Depot, Savannah, Ga. Saw Mills: Surrency, Ga., No. 6, Macon and Brunswick Railroad, D. C. Bacon, Wm. B. Sullwell, H. P. Smabt. D. C. BACON & co PITCH PINE -AND— Cypress Lumber & Timber BY THE CARGO. Savannah and Brunswick Ga. P.O. SAVANNAH, C v To be convinced call around and see L. Fried’s before making your purchases else where, as the price and quality of .oods sells Itsel'. 7