HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Advocate, 1894-9-6, Page 3A Woman's Crim.
BY AN OX-DBTEO•rIVie..
Published by permission of the owners of the
Copyright.
(COSITMOBB,)
She was dressed nn au unpretending yet
jaunty shit of buff linen, and on her head
was perched a hat of coarse white straw
with bands of black velvet, one side of
the brim drooping over her face,. the
other turned up ancl ornamented by a
curling ostrich plume which curved de-
fiantly above the Grown, giving a piquant
look to the fair face beneath it,.
It was a fair face. Hair of a deep chest -
.nut color —that would lighten to perfect
bronze in. the sunlight -was drawn off
the forehead, and clinging close to•the
head in rippling waves, was twisted into
•a careless knot at the nape of the white
neck ; a rounded, but nevertheless firm
'chin, that had one tiny dimple in it;
mouth small and red as a rose, with a
beautifully carveel upper lip, and fall
pouting under one; teeth small, white
and regular ; nose, neither Roman nor
Grecian, but small, slightly cretonne, and
altogether piquant; eyes that must, in
some moods, 'hays seemed strangely at
variance with the little nose—large eyes:,
dark hazel in color, with strange lights
ancl shadows lurking in their depth ;
beautiful eyes, with long Clark lashes,
and delicately penciled brows that were
almost straight; a low, broad forehead;
complexion that was almost colorless,
+gave for the ripe bewitching lips, yet had
no unhealthy pallor • she was small in
stature, with plump little hands, dainty
feet, and gracefully sloping shoulders.
As she stepped lightly down from the
Pullman platform, holding in one little
gray -gloved grand a lady's srnall travel-
ing bag, she paused, and, while others
:hurried. on, gazed about with a look of
fearless inquiry. Then she began slowly
moving onward in the same direction
with the crowd, casting sharp glances at
each lady whom she met, and never once
looking at the men.
Finally she stepped in at the open door
,of the ladies' waiting -room, and looked
.about her eagerly; then she turned away,
looking a trifle disappointed, and quite at
.a loss what -to do next.
At this moment a small figure, clad in
• navy blue cambric, entered at the upper
•door, and hurried towards her.
"Oh ! Nora!" panted she, as she gained
the side of the young traveler, and seized
her ]rand. between both her own. "Have
you really come? I'm so glad. And 1
th.onght I would never get here, for the
bridge was turned—"
"Turned !"
:.Yes, turned for the boats, you know."
"To be sure, what a stupid thing I am.
Kate, it's high time I camp to the city,
don't you think so?"
"Of course I do," laughed the little
lady, "so come along now. No need to
Ask how you are, you never looked
better."
"Shame to you, Katie; but I did begin
to feel like a lost lamb, I assure you,when
I did not see you anywhere."'
"Well, I'm Here now, hand over your
checks, country girl, we will have your
baggage sent straight up, and then take a
oar otuselvee."
"Good ! I am so glad. you are not an.
aristocrat, who rides in a carriage; that
wound not be quite a novelty, but—this
will be any first ride in a street car."
"The idea!"
'Well !" laughed the brown -eyed coun-
-rry girl ; "I don't see that it's very absurd
-since in all of my life that has not been
spent at the university, has been passed
in a village of a few hundred inhabitants
where my two little rats of ponies, and
my basket photon, are reckoned very
grand, and where the sound of the loco-
motive is only heard. from. afar. As they
say in the play -bills, 'this is positively
any first- appearance in any city.' "
"And you won't disappear for an age,
will you, Nora 2"
Suddenly the laughing eyes became
-clouded, and the girl thus appealed to
turned her face away from her compan-
ion to conceal a strange% half -scared ex-
pression that rested upon it.
"I don't know, Katie," she finally said
in an oddly constrained ,Wanner. "Now*
that I am left alone in. the world, I may
fancy becoming a feminine wandering
Jew; but," with a fine rippling laugh,
and suddenly recovering her eoanposire,
•"I promise, if I ever do disappear, that I
won't ride away on a broomstick,"
"I think you are the oddest girl I ever
saw " said Kate Seaton, half petulantly,
as grey entered the baggage room and
began to negotiate with burly porters for
the conveyance of the luggage of the fair
arrival.
Lenore Armyn stood gazing unconsci-
ously up Lake street, as her friend closed
her bargain with the expressman, and
gazing, she murmured under her breath,
'This xs chaos. I could 'disappear' here,
I think. It surely must be easy to lose
one's self in this great Babel, Bat oh! I
pray heaven, the necessity for so disap-
pearing may never come."
Are there such things as forewarnings?
All clay long, often through the gay even-
ing, that Word "disappear" seemed sound-
ing in the ears of Lenore Armyn, and
even then, as she stood gazing out on the
busy Lake street, the shadow was upon
her. The shadow of a fate that was to
make her a being doubly accused, doubly
hunted, for week and months.
At nine o'clock on that same evening
Claeenee Arteveldt stood ringing at the
door of en unpretending "two storey and
basement" brick, situated not far from
Lincoln Park on the "north sidle" of the
city.
He was.. speedily admitted by a tidy
housemaid, for Mr, Charles Ruthven, the
master of the hoaso, was only a book-
keeper in a down -town wholesale house,
who, upon a salary of two thousand a
year, supported a wife and. sister-in-law,
. not to mention a small Rathven, and at
present, a half-sister of his own.
The housemaid and a small bonen slave,
whose ospeeial clay it was to minister
unto the stentorious-lunged young Ruth-
ven before mentioned, comprised his re-
tinue of servants. I3nt the Ruthvsn par-
lors were always bright and cheerful,
and Mrs. Buthven was one of those
cliarrning informal little hostesses that
are the especial .delight of society young
men, who love to lounge in a friend's pare
.lor. whore they can throw off restraint,
anal feel at h.oxrie among the pretty wwe-
anon of the little household olive.
The occasion of this present gathering
was a double oxide first, the arrival of
Miss Aranyn, the beloved school friend of
Mrs. nuthvon's sister Kate -I and second,
and of oval interest the birthday of
• . Mrs, Rutohven herself:
It was not a party—the Ruthvons never
gave parties—it was just ane of those
pleasant,
every-evening; afli
-affairs,
wheree
overy guest, if a stranger, has .ample
time to form the acquaintance of every-
other,
veryother, so few are the invitations, and
where music, • Cards, somal games and
waltzing in the back bailor i'ornx the chief
annusentents;
When young Arteveldt • entered the
large front parlor, he found himself the
latest of the • guests. • There was a little
group assembled around the piano an-
other gathered about little Mrs. Bat�ivon,
apparently bent upon devising some new
scheme for the amusement of the come
piny; a third indulging in -what see ped
a very lively game of cards ;; and last and
farthest away, Miss Lenore Armyn, seat
ea opposite a grave looking young man,
and fighting her way inch by inch
through a game of chess,
Seeing Inc entrance Mrs, Buthvon hese
toned to welcome him, and by this means
dispersed her little knot of conspirators.
At almost the same instant Kate Seeton
deserted the group of music lovers and
came to his side,
Daring the light ancl ordinary exchange
of civilities which ensued, and while,
later, he. was exohanging badinage with
the young people at the piano, Clarence
Arteveldt was noting carefully the faces
of the few ladies of the party who were
strangers to him,
At last he singled out Miss Armyn as
the especiel object of attention, and lean-
ing lazily upon the piano gradually dxop-
ed out of the conversation going on about
him.
" Ah, I have caught you, sir," cried
Miss Seaton moving nearer him, "You
are looking at my friend, Miss Arnryn,
and you have not been introduced.
Come," laying a light hand upon his
arm.
But the young man drew back, saying,
YOU ARE LOOI:LNG AT MY FRIEND, SUSS
AIGIYN ; AND YOU HAVE NOT BEEN IN-
TRODUi+ED."
shall be oompenions, for Lenore does not
intend to live longer in Fairlse, 1n fact,
her mother wished it
th her to sell o home
and leave the village." •�>
"A, strange mother, I should say,
SO 1 thought, but Lenore does not
want to live there ; she has some money
and is not compelled to work, but she
wants very mach to find an ooeapatio.
"Ain 1 to understand that Miss A rnaye.
is paying her first visit to the a ty
She is paying her first visit to any
Gity..
Urn -m ---she loops very self-possesfied
for a—rustic."
"She is self-possessed, it is her nature ;
but come, the game of chess is at an end,
let us go to Lenore."
Andthey sauntered. toward the chess
table where Lenore Armyn now stood,
talking lightly with her late opponent,
and fingering the chessmen carelessly.
The ceremony of presentation having
been performed, Date Seaton slipped her
hand from the arm of young Arteveldt,
and tinning to the gentleman who had
lately risen from the chess table said
"Mr. Penne these good people about
the piano havebeenwaiting for you; they
want a tenor and can't sing a quartette
without one, so surrender, you are my
prisoner."
And laughing lightly she loci him away
captive.
Left alone Clarence Arteveldt turned
toward the beautiful girl who stoodbefore
him quite et ease, and with smiling face.
There was nothing to criticize in the man-
ner of this young lady he had just denom-
inated "rustic she knew just what to
do, and diel it with perfeot grace; she con-
versed with a fearless frankness, a raci-
ness and skill at repartee, which was as
refreshing as it was surprising, to this
worldly-wise young dandy. She seemed
unconscious of either admiration or criti-
cism, and entered into all the gayities of
the evening with a zsst and abandon.
most charming.
When the evening was at an. end Le-
nore Armyn gave her hand to Clarence
Arteveldt with a smile and a jest, and
never dreamed of the shadow he would'
cast over her young life, while he took
his way home, mentally vowing her the
loveliest girl he had ever met, and little
guessing that because of her his days were
numbered.
as he looked. down at the frank face up-
turned to his, with one of his irresistible
smiles :
"Not yet, Miss Seaton; don't be in such
haste to get one off your hands; your
friend is playing chess; see how intent
she is. If you should. present me now she
would not know ms from one of her
pawns when the game is clone, besides—"
" Oh ! besides what, sir?"
"Besides"—with a half laugh, as he
tinned away from the piano and ledher to-
ward a tete-a-tete in the bay window—"I
would rather talk with you; sit down here
and let us gossip. You shall tell me
about the ladies I don't know, and I will
make awful comments."
"I dare say [you will," laughed Kate
Seaton, not at all averse to a drat with
this handsome young fellow, with the
weak reputation and strung financial
vouchers. "Well, sir, whom shall we
dissect first ?"
" Why, your dearest friend, of course,"
laughed the young man ; "that is the way
all gossips do, is it not ?"
" Just as if you did not know that Le-
nore Armyn is nay very dearest friend.
You artful fellow."
Is she 2" carelessly. "Then you can
introduce her at a distance. Who is Miss
Armyn?"
"My dearest friend, I tell you, nay most
intimate school friend."
"Oh !" in. a tone of covert sarcasm,
"But that is not all you can say about
her ?"
"I should think not," indignantly;
"she is the loveliest, best, bravest, bright-
est girl in the world."
"Really !" elevating his eyebrows; then
with a glance at the young lady in ques-
tion, "well, she is certainly a beauty,
Miss Kate—I don't know about her other
qualities."
" Well, I do. I know she is good and I
know she is brave, and when you know
Lenore Armyn you will not need be told
that she is not a fool."
There came a tine when Clarence
found good reason for recalling these
words of Kate Seaton — " When you
knowLenore Armyn you will not need be
told that she is not a fool."
"She is brave," continued Kate, now
fairly launched and determined to do her'
friend justice; "and at school she used to
do and say the most independent things ;
she is a true friend, I can tell you, but—
I would not want her for an enemy. I
shall not forget how she exposed one of
our teachers who -had been ill/using, some
of the younger pupils and committing no
end of abominations on the sly. - Lenore
said never a word until she had found evi-
dence enough to ensure her disehare
twice over, and then she exposed her an
presence of the whole school. And oh,
but didn't she talk to her and to the other
teachers. Lenore hates deceit."
"Does she?" glancing at the fair ab-
sorbed face bending above the chess-
board. "'Where is her home --does she
reside here?" •
"Why, no! she is an orphan and can't
exactly be said to have a home now since
her mother's death. Tier mother *lied six
months ago."
"Six months! Why, she wears no
mourning !" said he, surprised.
"No. It was her mother's wish that
Lenore should not wear black. I don't
exactly understand why. I never saw
Mrs. Armyn."
"Indeed.' '
"Yes, ' indeed.' We wore together at
school for nearly four years, but I never
visstecl Lenore, nor she 'mo, until now,
Mrs, Armyn must have been fond of the
country, for she lived in a woo little vil-
lage away up in Michigan, Lenore spent
all her vacations alone with her in otheie
who was always something of en invalid,
mull, of course, passed mine here. 'We
have always been correspondents and
ing to the Rathven blow-out, and I called
to make that right," 1 hWell, word.,Arts-
" •
Oxiiaik m
veldt, you will yet coxae to grief because
of your too frequent Changing of sweet-
hearts."
Without knowing it, Neil Bathurst had
littered .e prophecy,
"Bah !" cried Arteveldt snapping his
fingers at an imaginary Nemesis, you
are a modern raven, but here is Miehigan
avenue, and here we are."
At that elegiment the carriage drew up
CFIAPTER IV. --THF) DURAND ROBBERY.
At noon. on the day following; that of
the meeting of the two detectives Neil.
Bathurst sat lunching in solitude at his
favorite restaurant. He was sipping his
coffee in a pro -occupied manner, and now
and then he would knit his brows and en-
tirely forget the viands before him.
"Strange," he muttered to himself.
"It's incomprehensible to MO! Rob can't
have fallen so suddenly upon the trail of
his fair murderess, and yet what elsescan
have caused grim to quit the Tremont so
suddenly? And to leave no worclfor me;
he is on a trail of some sort, of that I am
stare; ani. 1 wanted his help so much just
now."
rust here his meditations were rudely
broken in upon. A hand • fell lightly
upon his shoulder, and a familiar voice
said in his ear :
"Bathurst, olcl fellow, you are the man
I came after, your professional services
are wanted; have you finished this?"
meaning the lunch as yet almost un -
tasted.
Neil Bathurst shook ort the hand and
looked up rather ungraciously at the
speaker.
"Hang it, Arteveldt," he said impa-
tiently, `what do you want, and why will
you persist in talking about my profes-
sion?"
Artavelclt dropped clown upon the seat
nearest Bathurst, and leaning toward
him with his elbows on the table, said.
"Don't go off at a tangent, Bath.—yon
know blamed well that I have not given
you away, incl don't mean to. None of
the boys to whom I have introduced you
know that you are a "heavy swell."
Some friends of mine grave been robbed
and they want a shrewd detective; they
sent me for one, and I came straight here
in the hopes of finding you, just as I have,
only not quite so glum. I have a carriage
outside, will you come?"
"If it's a case, of course," replied Neil,
rising quickly, and beckoning a waiter.
"Bring nay bill, Charlie. Arteveldt, I
beg your pardon for my rudeness, I have
been a little upset this morning."
He settled his score ; then they hurried
out and were driven rapidly away.
"What is your case?" asked the detec-
tive in a low voice, as they rattled over
the stone pavement.
"They are family friends," replied
Arteveldt, flushing slightly, and riper-
•
ceived by Bathurst. 'f Old lady an inti-
mate friend of nay mother's, and all that.
Well, the old man is as rich as a Jew, and
not over cautious. Yesterday, quite late,
he negotiated a sale of some real estate on
the West Side, and received in payment
something like twenty-five thousand dol
lars. Well, last night it was stolen, and
the thing was done so neatly that they
did not discover the loss until a short time
ago, when old Durand went to get the
money to deposit with his bankers."
"Durand !" repeated Bathurst reflec-
tively, "is that not the name of the heir-
ess Fordham was chatting you about a
few days ago?"
"Well, yes," admitted Arteveldt with
an uneasy laugh, that was noted by his
companion, "Miss Durand is one of my
lady friends, but it's the old gentleman
who wants you."
"Which means that I am not to cast
any languishing
as as es toward the heir-
ess,
"Pshaw,". ejaculated Clarence Arte -
veldt, contemptuously, "my affair with
Miss Durand is old, and never was seri-
ous. You can ' languish' after her as
much as you please.'' -Then with a sud-
den animation, By the powers, Bath-
urest, you should have been with ane last
night. I met the loveliest girl that Chi -
cage sun ever shone on,"
"I should say that you made that state-
ment twenty bines in as many months
concerning as many ladies.
"Well, I'm in earnest this time."
. "Bat 1 thought you expected to moot
several strange beauties." •
"Well, and so 1 did. Thele was Mrs.
Warren, a blonde, pussy -cat sort sof a
widow, and e Miss Van Something from
Washington., but this one, Miss Axrnyn,
is fresh from the country, as innocent of
city eviokeclness and folly as a babe, and
before a stately xoSididno4 tib +Jie
lake, and Neil Bathurst followed his guide
up a flight of marble steps, through a
magnificent vestibule, the door of w.hieh
swung open at their approach, across a
wide hall, and then, into a magnificent
library, hung with forest green, and rich
with volumes of merit in costly and,
wall statuettes and bronzes, antique
tables, cavernous, ease -inviting, satin and
velvet cushioned chairs, and all that
could beautify and adorn the library of a
luxury -loving man of wealth.
At a wore. from Clarence Arteveldt the
liveried servant, who had ushered them
in, disappeared, and in a very few mo-
ments the rosewood door swung inward
and James Durand, the piaster of the
dwelling, appeared upon the threshold.
As he moved toward them, young Arte -
veldt advanced to meet him, saying
"Mr. Durand, this is Mx. Neil Bathurst,
late of the New York detective force ; if
any one can help yon in this matter, he is
the man."
The old gentleman. extended his hand
to Bathurst, in a hearty way that won
that young man's admiration straight,
and said, kindly :
"Glad to see you, six ; very glad ! have
heard of your skill in several eases. I
will be glad to get your theory on the
subject of this robbery."
"Then, sir," said the. young detective,
bowing respectfully, "will you allow mo
to examine the receptacle from which tlio
money was taken, as well as the sur-
roundings-, before I listen to anything
about the case."
"Certainly, Tho money was taken
from a desk in my sleeping room, and
that, as well as every door, was closed,
and locked again. It was a cunningly
devised robbery, sir."
"See," continued Mr. Durand, as he led
the way upstairs, "supposing that they
came in at the front, there would be two
doors locked and bolted; then here,"
throwing open a *goer leading off the hall
on the seemed floor, "there is the drawing
room door, then the chamber door, and
last, the triple lock of my desk."
Neil Bathurst paused at the outer door
and examined the lock in silence, then
he entered the drawing -room, and began
a grave scrutiny of the contents of the
room. It was richly upholstered in bronze
velvet, the two opposite sides being filled
by two enormous wardrobe dressing cases,
with great mirror doors, and pearl -handled
drawers and lower openings. Opposite
the entrance door was one leading into
the bed -chamber; in the niches on either
side this door, were lace -draped toilet
tables; opposite these on either side the
outer door, were two splendid full length.
mirrors; in the center of the room stood
two great dressing chairs, and this was
After a brief examination of the dress-
ing cases, the detective turned his atten-
tion to the lock of the inner door; and
he entered the chamber and carefully
scrutinized the desk, examined the win -
as sweet•as—as—l'
"'Your last love at first sight," finished
Bathurst dryly.
"Oh ! you may laugh. I am in earnest
this time,"
"You are in earnest every time," care-
lessly; "but let tis change the subject:
How came you on: hand at the scene of
the robbery ?"
"Why—the fact is," with sudden eisa-
barrassrnent, "1 had a sort of half engage-
ment with Au—Miss Durand, for last
now, since her mother is dead, 1 hope we evening, which I quite overlooked) lir go
turned in a ease like this. It was no
ordinary thief who entered myhouse last
night. t Is
not
that
your belief
I
will scarcely venture an opinion.
yet," replied Bathurst, with a slight
smile, "I have scarcely taken a look. at
the grounds. Do any of the members of
your family, or any of your servants
know the nature of my business here?"
"I think not, sir. Miss Aura is not yet
out of her room, and my wife is quite ill
from fright caused by the idea of a burg-
lar so near her, Mrs. Durand. is execs*;
ively nflTVA"
Neil Bathurst took up his hat sudden,
ly, and turned toward the door:
d "Then i will leave the house before this
visit becomes known, and Mr. Durand I
must impose myself upon you as a guest
this evening. Can you manage it?"
"01I, easily ! You . and Arteveldt can
come together."
"Then will you announce to your fam-
ily that Mr. Arteveldt will come, bring-
ing a friend with him?"
"Certainly, sir," looking puzzled. "But
may I ask-----"
"Ask no questions now, sir, Let me
do my work in my own way. As soon
as we are well out of the house you
will please announce to your servants
and all of your family that you are every
moment expectina detective to investi-
gate the robbery:"
"Bat, sir—"
"Within an hour's time a man will
come who will wish to go over the entire
premises, perhaps to interview every
member of your family. Let him do
whatever he wishes, and ask him no ques-
tions. At 6 o'clock I will be with you as
a guest. You can then assist me by talk-
ing of this affair whenever one of your
servants happens within hearing."
"But you surely don't—"
"Above all, don't confide to your wife
or daughter anything that 1have said or
am saying to you."
"Upon nay ward," ejaculated Mr. Du-
rand in undisguised astonishment. "I
am all in a fog as to your meaning, but
I'll follow your directions to the letter.
For, by my soul, I believe you know
what you are about."
"I hope I do, sir," answered the young
detective, gravely. "Come, Artevelclt.'
And bowing to his employer he hurried
from the house, followed by the silent but
admiring young man of pleasure.
In less than half an hour every ,nem-
ber of the Durand household was aware
that a detective was soon to appear upon
the scene, and all were excited, anxious
or curious, according to their various dis-
positions. Still another half-hour, and a
stout, middle-aged, roughly -dressed man
stood ringing at the door of the Durand
mansson.
Presently down stairs rushed the foot-
man, bursting into the kitchen with the
announcement : "The detective has come!
he is upstairs naw. He is going to ex-
amine every door and window in the
house."
"Oh my !" cried. the cook, letting fall a
big spoon in her consternation. °'What
do he look like ?"
"0, a biggish man with sandy hair and
whiskers. He looks to me like a man
who drinks."
"La 1" cried the cook.
"Yes; and I heard him say he must
see all the servants."
"Well, let him," sniffed the housemaid.
"I don't s'pose none of us are afraid. We
didn't steal Mr. Durand's money, good-
ness knows."
"Didn't you, my girl?" drawled a voice
directly behind her. "Well, you don't
talk like a dishonest girl."
There was a chorus of little cries in
various keys from the members of the
kitchen cabinet, as they turned their eyes
toward the doorway, where stood the de-
tective, smiling benignly on them.
"Of course I don't suspect any of you,"
resumed. he, coming toward thein as he
spoke. "Bat some of you might acci-
dentally ]yelp me to a clue, don't you
see?"
[The continuation of this interesting-
serial
nterestingserial will be found in subsequent issues
of this paper, which will be supplied from
now to January 1, 1895, at a greatly re-
duced pries. Subscribe NOW.)
HI] THREW II ISELF IN ONE OF THE BIG
OHALRS, AND THOUGHT.
*lows, to assure himself that they were
not accessible ; peered behind the hang-
ings and two tall cabinets, to see if there
were other doors opening from the room,
and then went back to the drawing -room,
where Mr. Durand and young Arteveldt
were conversing, threw himself down in
one of the big chairs, dropped his chin
upon his breast, and thought.
After a long silence ho lifted up his
head and asked, gravely:
"How many servants have you, Mr.
Durand?"
"Seven," replied the old gentleman,
looking somewhat surprised at the ques-
tion.
"And members of the family ?"
"Myself, wife, daughter and daughter's
companion."
"At what hour diel you receive the
money from your purchase?"
"Early in the evening. At about six
o'clock?"
"And you locked it away immediate-
ly?"
"As soon as my visitor had gone."
"Yes. Where was the business trans-
acted?"
"Down stairs, In the library.
"Who saw you conceal the money ?"
"No one."
"Not your wife?"
"No, sir. I was alone in the room."
''Aird who saw you receive the money?"
"The papers were all drawn up. There.
were no witnesses."
"Dicl you mention to any member of
your household. that you had received
this money?"
"Let inc see— I did say at the din-
ner-table—we dine at half -past six ---that
I had sold the Fulton street house, and
received the ,honey ; but not in the pres-
ence of any servant, I distinetly remem-
ber that."
"Then only your wife and daughter
heard the statement?"
"And my daughter's companion."
"Yes," es,' absently; then, after a mo-
ment's silence and moving nearer to the
old man,
"Mr. Durand, if you desire me to fund
your robber, you must allow me to pro-
ceed in any own way.
"Certainly, sir, 1 da desire you to find
the' thief, not so much because of tho
money lost as from principle. No citizen
clods his duty, who leaves. a stone un -
A. WRESTLE WITH FATE.
saving station for e. few, If out of that
few there should be too many for :the raft
m
t lighten. at d 1 en it
he waso s r *tin e e l
entu h
g
7
b
by the absence of one, Albion must be
saved for Miriain's sake, And there raiz`
through his consciousness a. sentiment in
whielu he was a firm believer
"The fittest place for man to diq
Is where lie dies for man,"
On th@ saline iii
oaearner with her precious Human freight
was tempest -tossed in the midnight black-
ness on Lake Erie, a young woman was
wi4.king the i p', of her Chamber wring-
ing her haii1d hi impotent anguish qs the
storm raged without. Her face was pale
and worn, her eyes glittered with excite-
ment. Every muscle was tense, and at
last the strain became unbearable and
she rushed from her own room, and
sought that of a younger sister, who slept
unheeding wind or ram.
"Margaret !" she called, and shook the.
sleeper lightly.
"Miriam ! What is it. Not time to
get up, surely?"
"No, nn ! Do you not hoar the storm?
It is awful ! I cannot sleep,"
The younger girl sat up, put her soft
curling hair out of her eyes, and looked
at the white face of her sister.
"You have not slept and to -morrow is
your weddin-day Miriam, you will look
like a ghost."
"Do you hear the storm?" repeated
Miriam mechanically, "if it is so bad on
land, how much more dreadful it roust be
on the lakes?"
"And Albion is erossing to -night. Oh,
Miriam, let ns pray."
"Yes, yes," interrupted her sister wild-
ly, "let us pray. Perhaps God will hear
us, and send the bouton which he is com-
ing to the bottom of the lakes 1"
"Miriam: sister ! your are crazed ! Do
you know what you are saying—that you
are asking God to destroy the boat that
brings Albion to you?"
"Yes, yes. That is what I mean. I
hate him ! I would be so glad if they
came and told me that he had gone down
and I was free—free—free 1"
Her voice rosy to a pathetic shriek that
blended with the wailing wind and died
out in a moan.
"You hate poor Albion, and I—" Mar-
garet had almost said, "I love him"—had
almost told the secret of hor pure heart.
But she assented herself again and the
younger girl became in a moment an in-
exorableludge.
"You would pray that hundreds of
lives might be lost that yon might be rid
of Albion? Miriam, how dare you
"What ars these lives to me who must
lose my own in a living death? They
will suffer a moment—I, all my life, and
it may be so long, so long ! I have prayed
for his death—we will see if God will hear
me and give me release,"
"Why did you consent to marry him,
if you did not love him?"
"It was fate. His eyes compelled me,
his 'voice compelled me—I could not
escape. What is that influence which
holds you like a wild thing caught�in a
snare, or a bird in a cage? You may
flutter and beat your wings against the
wires—you only make another and deeper
hurt,"
"I have thought sometimes, Miriam,
that Walter loved you ?"
Miriam, who was pacing the floor with
a desperate step, paused, and a wave of
color overspread her pale face and tears
shone in her burning eyes. Then she
resumed her walk and her rigidity of
muscle.:
"No" she answered sadly, "the woman
whom Walter marries will be blessed
among women, but if he had ever loved
me I would not be breaking my heart to-
night nor making blasphemous prayers.
Sleep again, sister, I am sorry I disturbed
you. My wedding -day is dawning and
we shall soon know whether God has an-
swered my prayer."
ght on which the
STEAMER crossing a great
lake in a,night of sudden
tempest was thrown helpless
at the control of the wind
and wave into the trough of
the sea by the breaking of
some part of the machinery,
and it was feared by the panic-striken
passengers that the hour of doom had
Dome. They crowded the decks and im-
peded the action of the crew. They
screamed, and sobbed, and prayed. One
man who stood apart from the others
prayed aloud,unconscious of other pres-
ence than his own. A friend coming near
touched him on the shoulder.
"Cheer up, Albion," he said, "we are
not going. to die here. I have faith in
our captain and he understands himself.
The crew are repairing the machinery,
and the boat has weathered worse gales
than this."
"It is not for myself, Walter, but for
Miriam; she is so tender hearted, so loyal
to those she loves, it would break her
dear heart to have me drowned like this
on the. -eve of our wedding. She could
never outlive such a tragedy."
"She would not be the only one who
would be left to suffer. If we go down,
five hundred others will perish with us.
Think you that they will leave none to
mourn their loss?"
"Theirs are not parallel cases, Miriam
will be a widow, yet no wife. She must
coneeal her grief for the man who was
her lover, whereas if I were her husband,
she could be afforded the sweet consola-
tion of sorrow. Then you know any Mir-
iam, and what this cruel disappointment
of hor hopes will be to her."
"I think I can appreciate her position,"
said the other, who was to be best man at
the weclding, !'and I sincerely hope the
blow you anticipate may be spared her.
I am going below. If the boat goes down
I am as well off there as here. Yet 1 feel
confident that we will be saved, and then
you ean��devate your life to eon-slotting
m
Miria.
He left his friend and went down into
the cabin, whore he threw himself upon
one of the reeking sofas and closed his
eyes.
"Oh, God," he moaned, "why are there
so many misfit lives ? If Ilio end is to
come here and now, shall I know all
these problems of this tiresome .life.
Miriam, if human love, skill or strength
can save your lover for you, it shall be
clone:"
The next Moment he was on the deep,
sweeping the horizon of blackness with a
keen eye. Then he consulted with the
captain and in his mind formulated a.
plan which would be an extemporary life -
"What a well -matched pair?"
"Evidently they are much in love with
each other."
"A perfect love match."
"She made a beautiful bride."
"They were intended for each other."
"Such a handsome couple."
"So well suited. That match was made
in heaven."
So Miriam's prayer had gone no higher
than her head, or had been borne away
on the winds into the limbs of space, and
now it had no echo in the music of her
marriage bells which to earth -dulled ear
were not jangled out of tune. But is it
irreverent to wonder if God is never dis-
turbed by the discord of these unmusical
lives whose notes of pain might well
pierce the song of cherubim and seraphim
as they despairing rise?
A. Commercial Traveller's Tact.
"Courtesy goes a long way with many
people," remarked atravelling man at
the Palmer the other morning. "For
some time I had been trying to get a cer-
tain merchant in Galt on my list, but
could not succeed. IVIy opponent of the
grip had him fast and he repeatedly re-
fused to deal with our firm. Every time
I visited Galt I wrestled with him in vain
until one day circumstances enabled me
to hook him. I was pressing any claims
politely when a lady entered the office.
She was pretty and stylish.
' 'My wife,' he said introducing her
with a certain .pride. Anyone could see
that ho was immensely proud of the little
woman.
"We conversed for a time and then she
left.
"'By jove, your wife is the prettiest
woman in town,' I remarked when she
had departed. Somehow he warmed up
a little and even offered me a cigar. That
afternoon I went to a florist and sent a
mighty handsome bouquet to her with
the compliments of our firm. The hus-
band'replied with mote of thanks and
gave me an order for some goods.. Since
then he has been one of one. best Gusto-
avers, and no one can take his trade away
from us. I always send her a bouquet
when I go to the town and charge it to
expenses and my firm cheerfully audits
the item."
A Gentle Hint.
reporter --Weren't you with Cony'
army awhile?
Weary Watkins—Sure.
Reporter --Then you ought to be able
to give me a few interesting fiats about
the way the affair is rum
"See here, ain't you a noospapor man?"
"I am."
"Well, I want to tatyoueight new
that you eau t pump ine.
"Why not?"
"I'an too clry."
"It's all up with you," as the sidewalk
cleaner saint to the roof cleaner: