HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Wingham Times, 1888-04-13, Page 6A GREAT SECRE
OR,
SHALL IT BE DONE.
'XVI I — C NTi
PIER �. 1 , a hu
CEAx En .
1
It wan apparently a sort of lumber -room
and wardrobe for old clothes, ase it had
talose and musty smell. Well used port-
ananteaux and trunks filled moat ot the
*v toe of the floor, and projected from a shelf
weigh ran high up round the wall; under
thea shelf was a row of pegs, from whioh
hung a couple of old travelling' cloaks, a
hootingjacket, and three or four man's
hate and caps. Madame de Lanory knave
very well that a. gentleman of Da Breteuil's
position and tastes does not keep old hats
and coats for nothing. She therefore leaned
across a couple of tall boxes and lifted one
el the cloaks away from the wall, Behind
it her sharp eyes soon detected another
!keyhole, and, retreating to the door through
which Babette was peering with pager but
frightened curiosity, she withdrew the little
key and tried it in the inner door. That
also opened, and Madame de Lancry went
through the narrow passage beyond far
enough to find that it led to a downward
;staircase. But this discovery was too much
for Babette ; after uttering piteous remon-
strances to the lady against her dangerous
daring, the frightened creature drew back
from the doorway and disappeared.
Madame de Lanory returned to the lum-
ber -room and withdrew the little key from
the door, ephioh she left ajar. She had no
time to lose in search of Babette, to try to
extract more information on the subjeot
where De Breteuil kept his papers ; she did
not know how soon he mignt retnrn, and
ahe was possessed by a dogged resolution
7,nt to leave, the house until she had obtain -
a enough evidence against him to be able
to go to the poliee and set' them on the
re seek of the fashionable millionaire. So
ane boldly set to work to make havoc
-among the trunks, turning them over with
ahe acute conviction that somewhere among
the least accessible of them she would find
-what she wanted.
It was with a great rush of blood to her
!head and a violent throbbing at her heart
that at last, in a corner below the small
window, and underneath an English Glad-
-stone bag, she.found a leather hat -box,
-heavier than the rest, It was not looked,
though' the key was in it ; she raised the
kd, and, with a smothered cry of dieap-
,pointment, found.that. it was crammed
-with old newspapers and guidebooks.
Just as she was on the point of
shutting it again, she saw that a hasty
touch of her impatient fingers had dislodged
some of the papers, exposing to view some
small, dark object underneath. She felt it,
raised it, and found that it was a revolver.
Thia discovery made her hunt further ; in
another moment she knew that she' had
found what she had sought; straining her
eyes in the gloom, to which they had now
become accustomed, she drew out a handful
of papers which a few moments' scrutiny
showed her to be securities of various kinds,
banknotes, the numbers of which she
guessed to be stopped, and other papers of
the same kind, which De Breteuil, with
characteristio audacity, kept by him either
efine the chance of their proving valuable
.again some day, or out of the recklessness
barn of impunity.
Madame de Laaory uttered a short laugh
of triumph at her own sagacity. Knowing
from what sources De Breteuil obtained the
;greater part of his wealth, she had felt cer-
tain that he must have in his possession
some dangerous, property of this kind which,
•used by an enemy, must inevitably ruin
Sim, She did not scruple to thrust the first
`fruit of her Search pell-mell into her pocket,
and her white hands, from which she had long
since pulled off her gloves, were diving
again into the box in an eager search for
more, when a heavy tread behind her from
the door' which led into the drawing -rooms
caused her to pause and to turn round with
another exulting laugh.
" Babette ! Babette ! he is in my power 1
he is a dead man l" she cried as she sat
back and turned round with 9xcitement.
But the laugh at the end of her words
-died suddenly on her lips. It was not Ba-
�bette. Glaring at her out of the darkness,
with livid face and burning eyes, his blue
dips shaking with diabolical anger, and his
white teeth shining like those ot a beast of
prey, was Louis de Breteuil. Branded with
every foulest crime, bearing in his savage
and distorted face the impress of every pas-
sion that can burden and degrade, the sight
of what he had become for a moment froze
the blood of the woman who had once ador-
ed him. The next moment she was glancing
furtively to left and right, making ready for
a struggle of muscle or of wits.
"What are you doing here?" he asked
abruptly.
She did not answer.
"What are you doing here, Babette, I
say ?' he repeated in a louder voice.
Madame de Lancry's heart leapt up with
a sudden, savage auggestion of her passion•
ate revenge. He had not recognised her
voice; kneeling there in the gloom, her tall
;figure passed for the equally massive form
of Babette. Stealthily in the dimness she
felt ror the revolver ; she did not know
whether it was loaded, and if she had
known that it was she could not have fired
it off; but it would serve her purpose. Then
she bent her head upon her hands anal af-
fected to sob.. It was not difficult acting,
for ehe was really shaking from head to foot,
and her breath was coming its short gasps.
De Breteuil stepped over some of the lumber
and shook her Shoulder roughly.
"You stupid, prying fool, get up," said
he brutally. "" What crack•brained craze
have you got hold of now ? Do you want
to get sent back to your pigs and your' par-
ent ?
ar-ent? 1 took you away because I thought
you were a fool, hut, upon my soul, I begin
to think you are something worse."
Be ended with another rougher shake; a
sudden doubt crossed hie mind has Madame
*de Lavery, hick with unutterable horror at
lila touch, still held her head down. Ile
iced a second, bending over her ; then he
hissed in her ear :
" Who the d -'-I are you V'
She turned and looked up at him,
Re Don't you know tne?"
Hr shrank baok with an awful curae,
and, quick as thought, Madeline sprang to
her feet and pointed he revolver straight
at hie bread. It would- probably not have
Shot Min, •van 1f her shaking hand had dis-
ols it, but it looked menacing enough
in Cu hands of the excited woman. De
'hemit ebaark bask, clawed.
so strong that within ten minutes he
• was wetobing the little door Madame de
Lanory had pointed out, with tiger -like
eagerness,' scarcely less intense than her
own, $e said to himself,. nevertheless, that
he was wasting his energise, as De Breteuil
Would oortainly have preparations to snake
for his departure, even if he did go, whioh
would occupy soma hours, He had soaroe-
1
coma to this conclusion, however,and. al-
lowed his eyes to wander for a momnt down
the street in the direction of tho turning by
which Madame de. Lanory had disappeared,
when his attention was recalled by the sight
of the little white door in the wall opening
slowly; a man in an old oloak and hat, hold-
ing in his hand a. common, thick, walking.
sack, and having the appearance of a seedy
music -teacher or drawing master, came
quietly out, a•.d after atoppimg a moment
at the end of the house -wall to take from his
pocket a pair of worsted gloves and put
then; on, sauntered along the street at a
meditative page, using his stink to walk by,
and looking up in the His at the sky above
hint with all the appearance of abstraotion
common to artists; of a low- rank with more
ambition than talent.
Gerald stared after him in bewilderment.
Madame de Lanory's calculations had result-
ed iu a most grave mistake : she had told
him to follow the firat person who should
come out by the door in the wall; here he
was, but obviously he was nor the person
intended. The young Englishman had not
been able to catch sight of his face ; but his
gait, his dress, his mangier, all.forbade him'
to suppose that this seedy, sauntering
gentleman could be the hard, cruel, yet im-
petuous, and dashing Louis de Breteuil.
And yet this obaoure-lookmg person seemed,
now that he had left the millionaire's house
some hundred yards behind, to be getting
over the ground at a very good pace ; and
again, Madame de Lenory's directions,
whether mistaken or not, had been very
clear. After some hesitation, seeing that
the stranger was rapidly approaching a
point where he would disappear from sight
altogether, Gerald stepped out into the road,
and, casting an occasional look behind him
in the, direotion of the white door in the
wall, set off on the track of the seedy -look-
ing man. He was still undecided as to
whether he had not started on a wild-goose
chase, until the man in the cloak, having
got into a fiecre, and Gerald, having got
into another, telling the driver to follow the
Seat one, the young Englishman found him-
self in a short time at the Gare du Nord.
He jumped out, paid the driver, and kept
the man in the cloak in sight, trying hard
to catch a glimpse of his features as he did
60.
But it was dark by this time, and he
did, not dare to get near enough to
riski being recognised, if the seedy -
looking man should indeed prove to be,
as he was forced to begin to believe, the
criminal whom Madame de Lencry was
hunting down. In confirmation of this be•
lief, the shabbyelooking man took a first-
class ticket; and Gerald, who found that
even the third-class ticket fare left' his own
fortune at the low ebb of nine sous and a
postagestamp, carefully watched the strang-
er take his seat before looking out for a
less comfortable compartment. At each of
the stopping -places on the way ,,to Calais,
Gerald paraded the platform and kept a
careful eye on the soft wide -brimmed pro.
feesorial hat, which was all he could see,
even on tip -toe, of the mysterious owner of
the long cloak. The young fellow could
not help thinking that the clever and care-
ful way In whioh this man kept his face
from view, without exciting attention from
any one but himself, was a auspicious cir-
cumstance ; and he was a good deal troubl-
ed by consideration of the difficulty he
should be in, if, as he could not doubt, the
man should cross to England that night.
He made up his mind to apply to the pro-
prietor of the Hotel de la Gare, who knew
him well, for a couple of twenty franc
pieces with which to continue his journey;
and having settled'this. matter, hie thoughts
returned to the torturing consideration of
the horrible position in which he stood—
married to the daughter of his father's
murderer, and engaged in bringing his own
father-in-law to justice.
He could not do it. He would take ad-
vantage of the promise Madame de Lanory
had herself made, not to force him to dis-
close the hiding place of the man he was
following. Villain as De Breteuil was, dead
as the poor lad believed his affection for his
young wife to be, bis heart and mind re-
volted from the hideous task of making the
woman who now bore his name a felon's
child. Still, if only for the satisfaction of
that curiosity respecting the mysterious
person he was following, which was rapidly
becoming a passion, he must and would
track him to his hiding•place; at least this
would delay the terrible ordeal of returning
to the poor girl who loved himand whom
he now shuddered at the thought'of meet-
ing.
So, when the train reached Calais, Gerald
got out quickly, and, standing in the crowd
on the platform, watched the slow descent
from his compartment of the man with the
cloak. A porter touched his hat respectful-
ly and accompanied the mysterious person
along the platform with the simple words;
" Vuiture, m'eieur ?" as if he knew him.
Gerald followed them, watched the gentle-
man get into a fcscre, and in amazemen
heard the porter give the direction :
" Aux Bouleaux 1"
In a state of the strongest exaitemen
and surprise, Gerald started on foot 1
the same direction. '" Les Bouleaux'
was the last place in the worl
he wished to visit, but to leave thi
mystery unfathomed was impossible. He
could no longer doubt that he was following
De Breteuil. %. ould the cautious Mr.
Beresford go so far as to give shelter to the
thief . and murderer, threatened as he now
was with discovery ? Would the latter
claim Peggy as his daughter, or should he,
Gerald, bo able to keep from her the dread.
ful fact of her parentage ? At least he could
try ; he could confess to Mr. Beresford how
much he knew, and by the power of this
knowledge induce this cautious gentleman
still to keep up the unexplained fiction that
hie a000mplioe s child was hie own.
As the (acre disappeared in the darkness
before him, rattling along through the mid,
night silence of the old town, Gerald quick-
ened his pace over the rough stones and
passed over the hollow -sounding wooden
drawbridge in time to see the flare turn to
the left, on the road to "Les Bouleaux,"
just at the point where the eairrioie had
turned over on the night of Mr. Shaw's
murder. He shuddered at the remembrance,
and felt pick with horror of the pant and
apprehension of the future, as he found him-
self alone on the straight, sandy road, with
"" Don{'t you know me 1" repeated. Made-
line. " Don't you know the woman whom
you betrayed,o
Whopw 0
myoudeserted, os
h
I
al
money you lived, whose life you ruined?
Perhapa I can recall myself to your mind,
Do you remember how, having committed a
murder and taken my own husband for
anaccomplice, you name to me and ask•
ed me to let bygones be bygones and
to come with you to a restaurant and
dine and drink champagne ? And how
I unaccountably turned sulky and refused?
Surely you must remember that 1 1 con
gratnlated you on your partner, and pro.
mised that you would have luok, as you
have done. And I prophesied one other
thing that some day you would make a
little slip, which I would make use of to
track you down. Now that bas Dome true,
and 1 warn you that, olever rogue as you are,
your last resource will be as powerless to
save you from man's justice as it is to save
you now from a woman's revenge."
As she poured out her hot words, De
Breteuil remained in the corner of the
room, abject and cowering, daunted by her
sudden attack. But the moment that she,
revolver in hand, made for the door, he
started forward and drew it toward him ;
it shut with a spring.
Still she came forward. As she reached the
middle of the tiny room, he sprang at her,
with mad eyes and a hissing, hungry sound
between his teeth as if he would tear her to
pieces. Flinging down the revolver, she
dashed like the wind through the opposite
door leading to the staircase, and pulled it
toward her. To her intense relief, that
closed with a spring also, and she heard the
sound of a heavy blow upon the solid wood
as she flew down the staircase. She was at
the bottom in a few minutes, groping her
way along a narrow passage. She could not
see, but she was suddenly brought to:a
standstill by finding that she had, Dome to
the end. She felt the wall in front of her,
straining her ears in fear of footsteps be-
hind until her fingers touched a handle,
which she turned in a fever of hope that an-
other moment fulfilled. She was out in the
street at the back of the house ; hastily
closing the door in the wall through which
she had escaped, Madeline, recollecting by
an effort where she was, stagger along,
giddy and trembling, toward the turning
whioh would lead her to where she had left
Gerald in the fare.
CHAPCER XXIX.
As Madame de Lanory drew near to the
fiacre, Gerald, who was on the watch,
jumped out, hurried toward her and gave
her his arm.
There was no need to ask whether she
had met De Breteuil : the wear and tear of
the exciting half-hour she had passed had
made, for the time, ten years' havoc in the
great beauty she still possessed. The hand
she put through the young man's arm was
weak and faltering as that of an infirm old
woman, and her footsteps tottered still as
he led her gentlyto the fiacre and helped
her in,:
"Back to the hotel, madame ?" he asked
softly.
"No. Wait a moment," said she, as she
took her scent -bottle from the seat beside
her, sprinkled a handkerchief with eau -de -
Cologne and held ib to her drawn, pale face.
The aimele remedy did her less good than
the short rest and reflection which the ap-
plication of it gave her time for. In a very
few seconds she raised her head again and
apoke quite composedly. "I have done all
that I can do now," she said, with anxious
gravity more human than her previous fierce
determination ; "to -morrow t shall go to
the police, and I think the evidence I can
place in their hands is strong enough to pro-
oure—ltim," a short gasp interrupted her,
a domiciliary visit. But he knows
this, or he wi.l know it within a few
minutes, and he has one last resource, which
he will almost certainly use. I want your
help to defeat him here."
" All right," said Gerald hoarsely.
"At the back of his house there is a pri-
vate door ; I will point it out to you. I
want you to remain on the watch, no mat-
ter how long, until it opens and some ono
comes out. You must follow that person,
the firat who comes out, whoever it may be,
and however far that person may go, until
—well, until you find are you at fault. Then
stay, wherever you lost sight of that person,
and communicate at once with me."
" By letter ?" asked Gerald.
" No ; by telegram. Say whatever you
like, it does not matter what, I shall under-
stand that the address you give is the place
where you lost sight of him."
"But supposing I don't lose sight of him,"
suggested the young fellow, rather nettled
by the supposed slight cast upon his saga
city.
We need not ooneider that possibility,"
she answered calmly.
" But, Madame de Lanory, of course I
will do this if you insist ; but—but isn't it
the sort of work for a detective rather than
for me T"
"There is no time to get a detective to do
St, Even while we are speaking, De Bre-
teuil may have got away."
"Well, then, he must get as far as he
pleases. I'm not a bloodhound."
For all answer to this outburst, Madame
de Lanory got out of the feacre, took Ger-
ald's arm again, led him into the back
street from which she had just come, and
pointed to the door she had spoken about.
"If you stand up here, in the entranoe of
this court, you can watch without being
seen," toad she. "When the person you have
to follow Comes out, you can nae your own
discretion as to the best way of remaining
unseen during your pursuit,"
"But, Madame, I would rather not—"
"If you like, you may, at the end of the
journey, keep the knowledge yon will have
gained to youraelf. I am not fit to under•
take this task myself, Gerald; but if you
will hot, I must. I have braved him once
today ; I can do so again."
"No, madame, I will go," said Gerald,
conquered again by the woman's irresistible
will. "01 course, I cannot allow yeti to ex-
pose yourself to this man's brutality. But
if I go, at all risks I must meat hint."
M-adamo de Lanory laughed.
"By all means meet him, if you oan."
And withotit another word she left hive
and walked away.
Left to himself, the excitement of the
situation canned upon Gerald, and grew
the gray, cloudy sky above him, and noth.
ing in view but theolumps of birch and poplar
tress, close to ono of . which he had heard
Mr, Shaw's last cry, He could not
bear either eight or memory ; and
as he came near to the sone of the
attack wherq, in the gloom between the
trees, which grew high at this spot, and
whose branches, no longer leafless, cast the
road into deep shadow,he fanciedhe saw
again the carriole, the (row:bine figure by
the roadside, and the panting beaet whose
fangs had pulled hisold friend down. Like
a madman he started off and ran, with all
his speed, until be was long past the spot
and again on the open road, He was in
sight of the poplar avenue when he met the
)Facre returning empty. Walking still at a
brisk pace, in a state of such horrible excite-
ment as to feel a oonsoiousness that he was
eoarcely sand, he passed through the rows of
hissing poplar -trees and into the court -yard
of hie employer's house. A faint light, show-
ing through the little window over the hall.
door, appeared and disappeared as he came
up to the house, in the cold and darkness,
glad, feverish as he was, of the strong breeze
which was beginning to roar like the sea in
the birches and poplars. He rang the bell,
but for some minutes no one answered. He
had expected this delay, ; a ring at such a
time, just after the arrival of a gentleman
who had such strong reason to fear the po-
lice, would naturally be answered with no
alacrity. He rang again, more loudly ; and
this time a gable -window in the roof was
opened quickly, and Delphine's voice, both
angry and mleepy, rang out in unamiable
tones.
" Well, who is it now ?" she called out
lustily. " Am I to be kept opening the
door all night.?"
" Dolphins, let me in, there's a good girl.
Don't you see who it is ?" said Gerald, who
felt a moat disproportionate sense of relief
at the comparatively unimportant °iroum-
stanoe that the voice of the good-hearted,
honest country woman was the first to greet
him.
"Mon Dieu, M. Gerald, o'est done vous!"
cried she, spending some moments in this
futile sort of comment before she could be
induced to slam the window and platter
down stairs to admit him.
The moment she opened the door he burst
out :
" Why was that came just now—in a
Acre—just before me 2"
The peremptory tone in which he asked
this seemed to imply that he was prepared
for an evasive answer. But Delphine stared
at him in honest surprise, and said :
" Why, it was only Monsieur Smees 1"
" Smith 1 Nonsense 1 said Gerald sharply.
"I could swear it was not."
" But it was 1" said she in sleepy astonish.
ment. " I carne down to lot him in myself,
just as I have let you in, and I wish you
gentlemen would keep mroe convenient
hours."
"Did he speak to you ?"
"No, monsieur, but—"
" Where's he gone to ?"
"To bed. Where else should anybody go
at this time of night ?"
" All right, Delphine. Good -night."
He rushed past her and up the stairs so
quickly that he ran againat a plump form
half -way down the corridor which led to the
bedroom kept for the occasional visits of the
confidential clerk. It was Smith himself, as
Gerald discovered from the voice in which
the oath Dame when he trod upon his toe.
The younger man got between him and the
door of his room, took out his match -case,
struck a light, and peered into the other's
face. Smith was only half-dressed, and it
was evident from the look of his eyes and
hair that he had recently been in bed and
asleep.
" D —n 1" said he softly as be blinked and
drew back," what are you up to ?"
The weak and querulous voice of Mr.
Beresford was here heard from his room.
" What is it? What is the matter? Who's
that?" he piped out feebly.
"It's me and Staunton, sir," sang out
Smith. ".But the Lerd only knows what's
the matter with him. He's jumping on my
too and striking matches on my nose like a
d=d lunatic,"
" Come in here."
Rather sheepishly they both stumbled
through the door in the dark. However, in
the bedroom, the little veilleuse which Mr.
Beresford kept burning all night gave forth
just enough flickering light for them to see
the 'grayhaired paralytic, lying as usual,
with his head and back on a high pile of
Tows, and for him to see the excited and
, , any
can see that he has just been fast asleep in
bed."
"' Because I tumbled in the moment I got
here, you bumpkin idiot," said Smith who
was growing every moment more excited-
"
Sh—eh,'' said Mr. Beresford imperative
ly. "Gerald, 1 think you must be mita
taken. I heard a ring and Smith's step
along the corridor to his room a short time
ago, and I can't help thinking you must
have followed httn from Calais by mistake
for the man you suppose to be a criminal.
I have heard ne other sound in the house.
But come to me in the morning, and we will
talk it over.And, my boy, learn to be a
little more careful in imparting ghastly sus-
picions to an invalid, Your first announce-
ment quite upset rue."
He was grave and not unkind. But he
nomad to resent Gerald's abrupt outburst,
and the young man felt rather small as
Smith elbowed him triumphantly out of the
ream.
"Holidays don't suit you, my boy, you're
off your chump," he Bald with a coarse and
irritating laugh as he parted with the
younger man in the corridor.
Gerald went toward his room it the other
end of the house as if in a dream, He half
believed that he was really the victim of
some ridiculous mistake, and the thought
even crossed hie mind that perhaps, me
Smith had just said, the constant excite-
ment in which he had lately lived had im-
paired, his reason.
As he walked softly along, anxious, deep.
lyn rba ies the
of to dials the ladies, . ,
doors of whose rooms he must now pass,
his heart sank as be heard ono of thehandles
softly turn ; in another moment Peggy, in
her white dressing -gown, stood, candle in
hand, in the corridor before him,
Her little face was flushed and radiant ;
her hair, loosely and hastily faetened up,
fell down mostbecomingly on her shoulders
as she trembled with joy at sight of him ;
the tears were gathering in her oyes, her
lips could whisper nothing but "0 Gerald 1"
as she held out her disengaged hand and
looked, up at- him in loving, passionate wel-
come.
Gerald stopped. His brain seemed
bursting, the walls swam round. The whis-
per of hie name reaohed bis ears, dulled as
they were by a singing that made all other
sounds seem faint. He stepped forward,.
forcing himself to meet her, to embrace her :
but as he did so his sight failed him; then
out of a blurred mist he saw the face which
had glared above him in the darkness of the
carriole. With a hoarse, smothered ory, the
unhappy lad rushed past her and looked
himself in the darkness of his own room.
(TO RE CONTI/MED,)
Woman's Duty.
It ie woman's duty to be beautiful. Na-
ture has moulded her in fine form and given
her more delicacy of finish so that she
might be a thing of beauty, and has adorned
her with tender graces and supplied her
with fathomless deaths of love that she may
be a joy forever. Genuine beauty is reflect-
ed from the heart, and does not consist in
outward adorninge of the figure. These
play a minor part only and should never be
relied upon to any great extent, The tailor
and dressmaker may model forms to suit
the fashion, but they cannot mould the
heart nor tune the affections.
Edwin Forrest's Secret.
The groat tragedian, Forrest, had a
secret which everybody ought to learn and
profit by. Said he, "I owe all my success
to the fans that everything I have" under-
taken I have done thoroughly. I never neo
leot trifles." That's the point—don't neg-
lect trifles. Don't neglect that haoking
cough, those nightsweats, that feeble and
capricious appetite, and the other symptoms,
trifling in themselves, but awful in their sig-
nificance. They herald the approach of con-
sumption. You are in danger, but yon oan
be saved. Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical
Discovery will restore you to health and
vigor, as it has thousands of others. For
all scrofulous diseases, and consumption is
one of them, it is a sovereign remedy.
Bulgaria has asked the Porte to explain
the presence of Turkish troops on the fron-
tier.
We accidentally overheard the following
dialogue on the street yesterday.
Jones. Smith, why don't you stop that
disgusting hawking and spitting?
Smith. How can I? You know I am a
martyr to catarrh. '
J. Do as I did. I had the disease in its
worst form but I am well now.
S. What did you do for it ?
J. I used Dr. Sage's Catarrh Remedy.
It cured me and it will cure you.
S. I've heard of it, and by Jove I'll try
it.
J. Do so. You'll find it at all the drug
stores in town.
The damage by the floods in Germany is
estimated at $50,000,000.
Your Friend Committed Suicide.
You never suspected ft, none of h s'riends
dreamed of it, he did not know it himself,
but it is exactly what he did nevertheless.
Do you remember his sallow complexion?
Do you recollect how be used to eomplaia of
headache and constipation i " I am getting
quite bilious," he said to you one day, " but
1 guess it'll pass off. I haven't done any-
thing for it, because I don't believe in
' dosing.'" Soon after that you heard of
his death. It was very sudden and every
one was greatly surprised. 1f be had taken
Dr. Pierce's Pleasant Pargative Pellets he
would be alive and well to -day. Don't fol-
low his example. The " Pellets " are easy
to take, mild in their action, and always
sure.
The temporary confidence of the Germans
in Russia's peace protests is vanishing.
Hos !COUGH Ovns aures in ono minute.
Two million people has been left destitute
by the floods in tee Henan district in China.
Cleanses HAM Rtneawaa restores grey and Laded
Bair to:its natural color and prevents falling out.
All the eight bridesmaids of the Princess
of Wales are alive, married, and none is di.
vorced.
A Care for Drunkenness, -
The opium habit, dep,omania, tho morphine habit,
nervous prostration caused by the use of tobacco,
wakefulness, mental depression, softeningof the
brain, eta, premature old age, lose of vitaliy caused
by over.exertion of the brain, and loss of natural
strength, from any cause whatever. Men—young,
old or middle. aged—who are broken down from any
of the above causes, or any cause not mentioned abets,
send your address and 10 Dente is stamps for Lubon t
Treatise, in book form, of Diacagea of Afar. Books
sent sealed and secure from observation. Address M.
V Limon 47 Wellinvton street East, Toronto Ont.
Emperor Frederick is able to enjoy short
walks in the park attached to Charlotten-
burg palace.
Ocean Steamship Passengers
Via New York should take the Erie rail-
way, as it is not only the shortest and beet
line, but lands people close to the piers of
the leading steamship companies. In buy-
ing
uying tickets, ask for the Erie.
The marriage of Prince Henry of Prussia
and Princess Irene of Ilesse is fixed for
May 2.
whenever your Stohraoh or Bowels get out of or.
der causing Biliousness Dyspepsia, es Indigestion,
and thole attendant evils, take at Once a dopa cif Dr.
uarson•s Stomach Bitters. Best foully nrrdtotne,
Ali Druggists, 60 acute,
Sulu PUnr)INO.-rote cup each of raisins,
currants and suet chopped fine, three cups
of flour, one cup of milk, two teaspoons of
baking:powder ; boil two hours.
People who era entjeot to had breath, foul costed
loupe, or any disorder of Lha $iomach, can xi ones
be ielieved by t?s!ng Dr. ilarson'e Stettin% Btttire,.
the old and tried remedy. Ask your Drools*
A. 1'.393.
KNITTING �NrU e r rte n,oni:MAG��� t�
THI !<Iouifo, rb,rtW
11, logtrsROliamerunOoa
WORKI+l'11BA6L. fe8ea we�ekandsex�DDeenr
paid, Valuable omen and parifawlare
lsee.P.il, V[vs Ry,AUQnila,Mafas