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HomeMy WebLinkAboutExeter Times, 1907-05-09, Page 2;.1 ♦fol.1" .1 .0.t1X.3Q.i ****.l .0•0•o O °`o• le0+o+0+0+0 0 o IgE+*+- t.i01♦i01.10t+ ♦o+o+ ♦ +o♦30f♦�ENOf♦30E. A Loveless Marriagc; 1 A 1'IATTER OF EXCHANGE. CHAPTER XXVI. Ile struck her full on the forehead. She staggered, but caught at a chair near her, aid presently was able to eland quite Mill. No cry escaped her. Once again the thought arose in her that he meant to kill Iter. but this time she felt no fear. She was almost con- scious indeed of being glad of his bru- tally. Now she might indulge tho pas- sionate hatred that for long time had tcund a home in her breast—might give a loose rein to the bitter -scorn and con- tempt that scorched her spirit. Nuw, tco, surely, she might think without such great sin up en tite deep, unhappy love that filled her very being! That first time when he had actually IH -heated her, she had striven with all her strength, and on her beaded knees. to compel herself to forgiveness, and had very nearly succeeded. She had 9t Last brought her..etf as close to con- donement as earthly soul can go. There had been a suspicion of jeal- ot.sy in that first cruel attack, and she had made excuses for it to herself, and had se nig ht to blot it from her memory; Mut This --this was different. Out :.f sheer revenge, born of a baffled desire, he had struck her that evil blow. No; she would not forgive. Though death indeed were coating (and his face was black with fureth she would meet It, and ger judgment hereafter, without a thought of pardon for this brutal tyrant! "Will you give In?" demanded he, his rrent h coming thick and fast. "Not though you kill me," returned she. her fare like marble save for the (11111. red mark that was now slowly covering her forehead. Her calmness. that looked like, and was In part. defiance. enraged him. tie struck her again, then caught her In a vicious grasp, shook her like a reed, and flung her from him. Tips time she ltist her balance, sway- ed, and came heavily to the ground. striking her head agnlnst the corner of an ottoman as she fell. Not cnring.whether she lived or was dead. Vereker lurched out of the room, closing the door with a savage bang behind him. That last time -that night in the library—he had felt some twinges of remorse; now, he felt nothing, only n savage joy in that he had punished her. By degrees consciousness returned te ler; she rose to her knees, and from that get on to her feet, and then stood look- ing round her In a hnit-dazed fashion. She pushed back the hair from her fore - bend, and stared vaguely at the fire, which hnd begun to burn low. A long, long sigh escaped her. Presently she mode a mechanical movement, as if to lift her right arm to her throat. but something, some shooting pain that telt like the touch of a red-hot iron, checked her, and r. s(nsntion of sickness almost overcame her. The arm was not broken. but in failing she had severely bruised it. She raked her left hand then, and pressed it ngninst that side of her brow from which the dull intolerable throbbing anguish seemed to be corning. As she touched 1t. she winced and let the hand falx again languidly to her side. She saw then that there was blood upon ;t. She was in great pain. She knew that at least, though as yet she was so benumbed in mind that the whole truth had not come to her. She still stood on the snore spot on the carpet. AS though she had forgotten she could move. Init now her eyes hegnn in rnnm tmm side to side. as if with returning mem- ory. All at once they eoncentrnted themselves on one (Neel; 11 was a mir- tor: and in it she saw reflected what firelight sense, memory. and an nhhnr• rcnro of that memory, back to her with a cruel rush. She looked. and lonkrd again; letting a hnrritie shnrne sink deep into her. There the stood. revel -fled! The saint teenier she hnd seen nn hour none. yet, was 11 the snme? The ghnslly palter. Ihnt ci hnsnn s're ak. the drill lark -lustre eves. the rigid month. did she knew rem? Iter hair had esenpr'd from 'ts f 1 nings. hnd ronie undn,te. and was h uizang in artistic ennfusfnn mond her. It ceetuld to held in nn untidy frame her s!rnnge, sharing free. tl was n helmet portrait of a meet been. woman! And to this he had be light her! A low moan broke from her. She put use her hands as If to hide from her that Flint/II senot+tnner of herself. "Oh! (o1 have pity! Must i submit to this d'gredntinn?" After a little while. she made an of- fer,. and bound tip in cane wise her loos- ened hair; and sought to make herself pr'.-ntnbhe ngfain. as women will. e'en in their direst inure. Men call this vanity; lint who shall say It is not an honest virtue? The expreesion nn her fees' was be- ginning to chanps as n fuller cnneeinius. nese grew en her. The dulnese. the apathy. dienpp, nre.T, and every feature t(•gnn to nscnme n look of hard and unflinching hatred. terrible le ser in one so young, so gentle. As remem- brance become perfected, so, toxo, this deadly loathing gained vigor. She raised the hand on which lay the stain of blood, and her eyes fastened then - selves upon it with a sort of tigerish rage. This dainty, petted creature, who in her old home, poor as it was, had never known what it was to huve a wish thwarted, was now the legal prey of a brute, who treated her as ho would teerlaimly not dare to treat any other human thing. She sank upon a lounge and crouch- ed there, immovable, with dark eyes staring before her into an unseen 'u- ture. The old resignation, the gentle patience, was all gone front her. Gone, teo, was the soft girlishness that had [ren ane of her cltiefest charms. She looked haggard, and years older—quits a woman. The hands that used to rest in her leisure moments in a pretty idleness up - en tier knees, were now firm and tense; the right one was clenched, and with the knuckles of Il she kept rubbing the palm of the other, up and down, up and clown ceaselessly in a slow, curious fashion. She was thinking. Her thoughts all ran in one groove. That sooner or later there carie an end to all things. One day there would Dome an end to Francis Vereker. Odd- ly enough she had ceased to believe that be would do her to death, either through wrong or actual physical ill -usage. It seemed as though he was the one to die.Shee had survived thisis last brutal treatment of his; she could still think. move, feel; there was no reason tint she should not survive another, nay, a hundred such. Life was evidently ter- ribly, remorselessly, strong within her. There was no escape that way. But he, he would gol Things when they came to the worst always mended, and, there - fere. as matters lay, he was the one bound to sink into the grave. Death was waiting for him. so she devoutly prayed. honied—bellevcdl The idea had a fascination for her. She began even to picture her life as it would be when he was no longer there Ic darken 11. In this strange wild fit that was on her—when all the decent womanhood in her had been outraged, affronted—when she had been crushed and bruised and beaten as might a dog —she longed for revenge. She telt as though she cnuld hardly be satiated, n4)4 mutter what form vengeance took. She saw the coming life—without him—that she hoped for, anti with n passionate sense of freedom threw wide her arms. Ohl the joy of It—the exultation! To know him gone—for ever. Her tyrant lnwered. removed, laid in the very dust. 11 was impossible that she should not 1lve M Fee 11! Surely she should not die until she hnd "seen her desire up- on her enemy." She was still crouching. hurt, end spent. and fierce. like some wounded nnimnl. when the footman flung open the door and announced—"Mr. St. John." CIIAPTER XXVII. The door had closed again, and the man had disappeared before St. John quite understood that something had gond terribly wrong with her. She raised her head and looked al hien, but teyond that effort made no attempt In greet him. Ile cans horrified at the change in her. 'lite blood -streaked forehead, the large dark eyes, the deadly pallor of the face all shocked him; but what was worse than all, was the cruel calmness, the sternness that seemed to difienuro the young face. .A sharp cry escaped him as he went quickly up to her. \\'as this Cecil?-- tlie gentle, pretty, fragile creature whom he loved. Phis! Ile felt half nlnd, and n terrible imprrention fell from his lips. "What has that Dolt been doing to you?" he said presently. "Not quite enough." returned she, with n bitter smile. "After all, you ser, be has faded again. It is mnrvellnus how long life will slily in one. Misery will rot kill. nor brutality. Don't Inok se: distressed, 1 assure you 1 was seldom mere oliva to everything than i am nt this moment." "Cecil—" he began. "We cannot talk here." She Inter- rupted him In quick. cold way. "Other people may mine in. If 1 could get In me own room." --she paused—without meeting the servants. 1 tnean. 1 can't have them know,—nt least, not until they must," "Well, reeve." snid he. "Go to the door and see it nnynne is in the hall." She seemed quite collect- ed and eeld, ns If turned into stone. "Cnme." he snid artnin. "1 much flr:t gel rid of Ih+S;' said she, tonehing the \•oiind upon her forehead. from wieeh the blend was Still slowly nnzing. "At env tarn of the stnhrence nor' of them might nppenr. Gond ilea- t'rno' has there not been humilialen enough?" When she had wonted nwny the blond 040.40.414.4010.4.44.0. The effect of Scotfa Emul rlon on thin, pale children is magical. It makes them plump, rosy, active, happy. It contains Cod Liver Oil, Hypophosphites and Glycerine, to make fat, blood and bone, and so put together that it is easily dusted by little folk. ALL DRU0018TSs 80o. AND •1.00. she went quickly to the door, passed St. Jotur almost as if she did not see him, and ran In a quick, yet firm, way up the brad staircase to her boudoir. She gained it unseen by any of the do- mestics, and standing on the hearthrug, acknowledged that tact by a high ct relief: St. John fclluwed slowly. Nis blood was boiling and there was a feeling of such deviflsh hated In his heart as seemed to r.umb him. Ile felt all ut once as 1f the knowledge of good and evil had failed hire, as 1f he knew only Ilia evil, and as if that were the only real good. A longing to destroy was full Upon him. "Look here," he said. Ile benched her shoulder to rouse her --to gain her at- tention—but she neer moved. "I.istein to nee," he said again. Sl:e raised iter eyes for a moment. "That night when he thrust you out --you remenrher?- -and you cattle to ine. De you remember?" "Yee. Go on." She spoke wilts apa- thy, and yet with a vague touch of int - pa tienoe. "That night," he went on deliberate- ly, "I was tempted to say to you some- thing that I refrained from saying (al- though 1 confess the temptation was al- most too strong for me), pimply because 1 thought lite idea that filled me would germ you. Now 1 think differently. 1 de, not hesitate to say now all that was hi my mind that night, "Iiecause 1 refuse to believe that. any man has the right to keep you here and subject you to—to such indignity." ile paused, and she looked at him again; Ibis time steadily, and without (lowering her eyes. "What are you going to say?" she asked slowly, "Will you come away with me?' \\'ill you leave this brute's house? Will you trust yourself entirely to me?' She half rose from her seat. "Wail!" said he, quickly, "there is more to be said. In time you would get your divorce, and then It would be--" _ She put up her hand, and by a prernp- tory gesture checked hie. "Don't go on," she said. "1 under- stand all that you would stay, all that you have said, but It Is useless." "Yon are angry with me perhaps. now," " aid hecalmly. . 1ul if would d hear all there is to be—""Do not mistake me," interrupted she. "I fully comprehend the nature of your proposal. but I am deed to all shame— lo all emotion 1 think, because I feel no anger towards you, or indeed any- one. That night to which you allude I might perhaps have listened to you, but not now. T shall not leave this, i shall stay on here—until the end!" "The end! Until lee kills you, you meant" "He will not kill me." Her voice was low and curiously penetrating. "No; I shall not dle,"'ihe went on, leaning fpr. ward, as, it seeing something on the p- posite well. "All the world may die. but 1 shall not—until-----" She paused abruptly. "1 cannot explain it to you,' she went on: "1 cermet explain it to myself. but soa:ethtne here," !eying her fiend upon her heart. "tells me that if per were to strike me to the earth again end again. if he were In do his best to murder nue. slill I should live. No; it Ls noti who shall die." "\\'too. then?" asked he. invohminrily. ITer whole tone was suggestive. not only of her belief in her own exemption from death, but of the rertninly of another's being nbliced in succumb in it. "He will!" She spoke with n ner•vniis bet gond and eager nssuranee. "Don't ask me to explain that either: I can't: bel I knew that he will die. and soon —soon r' She threw out her hands. 'Ohl" cried she, "Hew cnn it be soon enough?" A strong shudder ran through her. "1' is not Just that T should stiffer /11 - ways!" elle sold. her vnhce new nearly a whisper. "Ffo will die---die—and then--" St. John fell his henrt grew mid. ife went quickly up to her. ile knev she was half delirfouee nnrl he could not hear to see her slender flaure crnueh- Ing there. with the small hands clench- ed. and ihnt terrible expression of ex- l:Didinn nn her drnth-like fere. "11 is all dr'nm-work; do not dwell nn 11," he snid. with aeltinl entreaty. "It le not. T am nwnke. 1 feel ns if I shouted never ghee again. And i tell you whnt 1 Fav is Inst'.' She caas grow. Ing excited new. "1 don't knew when the knowledge first came to mee but i think 11 was when he sled over me. with his hnnd elenehed to strike—nr else when he had slrark. and was leek- ing down at his work—T rennet be sure"—she broke off confusedly. and pressed her hand le her brew—"but seenethfng In his faee then told me 1 should be tree—snfe—nlnner She rose to her feet and began In Tome. the room: presently she swnyel n little. as if faint. hill when he would have caught her she waved Min nside. "If he dies. will you marry me?" she said. "Don't talk like that." excinimcd he, sharply. "iia.! as he Is. i rnnm bear yeti to speak thus of hi< b nth." "Ah! you hesitate—you evade the question. Will you marry Woe?" cried she. nhslinnlely. iter Line wee nlmnct fleece: she came closer le him. "Answer me'' she said. "No. do not leech me; r,nly speak. spent:. 1 will have an an. sweet or Ls 11 thnt you. len----" "Do not sny tint." interrogntel he. "You knew vett don't think 11. You know that you (rust me. if -1f your husband were In die. what thing Ls there null ennld keep me from you?" She sighed hrnvily. "Go In goer room and try to gel stone sleep." said SI. John gently, sexing imbed that n reaction had set in, and that she was once again on the verge of imenneetoueness. "1'ce. Go," she avid, faintly. "Go away. T want In be nlene." "And you will le down? Prnmlce one that. Shall i send Dorothy to you?" "Oh. nn. 1 will have nnhody here. nal even her. Now go!" She pressed him nwny from her peevishly, and, af- ter n last entrenly ne Iwo that she would try to strep, he left her. (To be continued.) HOPEFUL. Harold : 'Papa, s hen 1 gm\• up, can tt marshy."' My neon, do not let us anticipate the wow The arm PttUN1NG FOR BUSINESS. In setting out apple trees the ques- Lon of long or high heading seeing to to an open one, writes Mr. F. 11. Fas- sett. I have practised the medium height. I think soluo varieties should be headed higher than others, for in- stance, Spy and Baldwin and other up- right growers should bo quite low, while Greening, Bellik,wer and other spawn- ing varieties should be higher as they have a tendency to droop. The amount cf icp left op at time of selling should to regulated largely by the roots; if a large part of tlte.se have been broken off by diggng a considerable amountet top should be cut off. In shaping the trees one should not try to shape all alike, 11 he does it will surely end iq disappointment, because ono cannot successfully make (ho top of a Spy and that of a Greening alike. They are entirely different in growth. The Spy should be kept from growing toe thick in the centro and induced to spread out while the Gi1.'ening and other sprouting varieties should Oe trained more upright. Limbs shooting straight up should be avoided as they will rob the other parts of the tree anti when allowed to grow will spoil Die Tree. A little attention each year, cut- ting limbs that cross and thinning when too thick will enable you to grow a tree natural in forst and in best possible shape for good results. The time to trim is subject to a good many different opjpions. 1 have prac- tised trimming as early in the spring ns all danger of severe freezing is past. Some reeourmend trimming when trees are in blossom, but this has its objec- liens. In early spring ene has more time, hence 1 can recommend 11. I think the wound heals best at this time of the year. All limbs should be cut souaro off, commencing as close to the the upper side as tree aspossible on s o n it mnkes a steelier slob and heals bet- ter Than when nut with the body of the tree. It it becomes necessary 10 remove large limbs the stubs should be covered with paint or grafting wax, but with careful pruning each year K will not te necessary to cut many large limbs. i am a firm believer in cultivating nrchards. sn 1 triol with this In view. it Is surprising what low trees one can cultivate under. There are several ob- jects which should be kit In mind. When pruning we should aim to cut enough to keep the tree healthy„to ad- mit sunshine and light that the apples may color up alike. There seems to be n tendency on the part of some grow - ere in commence on the lrside and trim off all small limbs and fruit spurs, turn- ing up the limbs until they resemble n lion's tail, leaving th' brush ends thick and thus forcing the fruit all nn ends of branches. This makes a leverage which breaks down many valuable trees. I saw an orehnrd trimmed this way In our county. It Was loaded with fruit. but nearly 1:1 of the trees had large limbs broken down, thereby causing a lasting injury to the orchard. My method is to cut out all limbs that cross each other, avoid breaking er cutting small limbs, fruit spurs or large limbs as here you will find some of the finest specimens, then thin the limbs on the outside by cutting off small limbs, letting in the sunlight and forcing the fruit in toward the body where the tree is able to bear the enorm- ous weight when in pull crap. This in some instances will weigh from one and one-half to two tons. 1 keep the top clipped har+ a little each year so as to prevent gelling too high. A low tree Ls much easier to pick or trim and on the whole much to be preferred. Oneof the best tools and an almost in- dispensable one is the regular pruning saw coling from 50 cents to 81.50. This in the hands of nn melee nese who is not afraid to climb makes a good com- bination. i here used some of tine long handled pruners. They have their place fei culling small limbs and clipping back the top, but are very lined to work nil day. A light slip ladder Is very useful. In the case of an old orchard whi'h lied been neglected for years. 1 wntld advise to go slow the first year. itemove the dead limbs and the stickers, then by thinninu a little each yenr, the trees may be brought to the proper shape. PIAS AND OATS FOR EARLY Fi:ED. There is mol a better crop to put in fel early (reeling, or when the fields give scant promise for hay than peas and oats. No crop can be put in cast- e-- or earlier. F.r,t sow the peas broad- cast over the ground, allowing a bushel o the acre it the soil is rich, more if poor, and plow under 4 or 5 Inches. As soon as the peas begin to cone up, broadcast the oats, using the same amount, then drag in, going Leath ways. \\ hen the oats are in boom, cid and cure as you tweed clover. They cnn be used for green feed If desired, coin- ing at a tune when lei -shire begins to be short. There Ls nothing bitter for snitch cow's, unless 11 is green alfalfa. 1f after putting in the barn the peas shell out, 11 has been found that mix• ing them with any kind of chaff makes n Zine feed for hens end hags. They will, %viten fed in this way. furnish plenty •of exercise for Itte hens. RATION FOR MILK. 11 Is generally believer!, with very good renson, That a ration cnnsisting of a cerinin poortieen of succulent runner Is ne•e-spry fir the most eronomical pro- duction of milk and butter. This is usu. ally supplied in the form of silage, roots, fresh brewers' grains, or (iriel brewers' grains moistened to a spongy consis- tency. Corn silage is undoubtedly the cheapest; that is, it will bring the greet - eat return al ike least rest. 1lnnte are greatly relished. conducive to geed health and stimulnting the flow of milk, but are quite cepensise to raise. Wet brewers' grains. If drawn daily. fresh horn the brewery. cnn be fed without seriously affeeting the quality of intik or butler. The welting of dried grains is sometimes done, with good success, NIGHT PAINT To PAINT NIGHT PAINT RIGHT: And do it cheaply too, becaue• they're the purest and bat in the way of paint mak- ing. They outlast cheap paints and cost leas to put on—consequently are n,oney- savers end time-savers. Your dealer will tell you the pnee, and It isn't high if you want a good job. Write us for Post Card Series "C,” showing how some houses are painted. A. RAMSAY & SON CO. Paint Makers MONTREAL. E+st'd 184.2. GO sciaacilMa If fed with reasonable care. Fresh beet pulp is hard to handle in the natural state, quick to change and to be render- ed unlit for feeding, That it can only be used by farmers in the iminediate vi- cinity of beet sugar factories. HUNTING THE FUR SEAL REWARD OF PERILS UNDERGONE IS VERY SMALL. Great Dangers Run by the Hunters From Newfoundland and Labrador. This has been a hard season with the sealers on the East coast, both those from Newfoundland and those from Labrador. There have been heavy gales, and the ice has canoe down from the north In such largo masses as to bo difficult to escape. One Newfoundland steamer, the Green- land, 1 and aro enter- tained n r Was been lost n fears to - tained for smaller crafts which have not. returned. The method of conducting the hunt is thus described by a Quebec cor- respondent of The .,ew York Sun : Thet amount of seal life destroyed by the Labrador hunters does not begin to compare in volume with the Jesuit of tho Newfoundland hunt. Ne•rsrtheless a crew of eight men have been known to kill five or six hundred seals in a couple of hours. Much depends upon the opportunity offered of taking the animals by sur- prise. When a large herd is seen upon an ice field the men, who usually num- ber from eight to twelve on a schooner, take to a small boat and get as near as possible to the part of the floe where the seal aro basking, especially If that is the side nearest to the water. It still unperceived, they crawl upon their hands and knees, and spare no effort to gel close up to the held without being seen. Then the slaughter begins. KILLING TIIE SEALS. Each man Is armed with a stout slick, six to ten feet long, and seal after seal is struck on the nose with the weapon. A slight blow suffices to fracture the skull and kill the young animuts, and many of the others are stunned and dis- abled, while the hunters hurry on to stun as many more of the sherd as pos- sible before they can make their escape into open water. Then the hunters' knives are produced. The skin with the adhering fut Is rapidly delimited from tho carcass, which is left on the ice. The ice is soon stained with blond and dotled with the skinless car- cases of the slain. _ "Tho shivering seals' low moans" fill Pie air. The whimpering cry of the baby seals has a remarkable resemblance to the sobbing or whining of an infant in pain. Wherever there are openings in the ice the mother seal: are seen pop- ping up their heads looking for their offspring. The great nine of the hunter; Is to get among the "vhilecoals," as the young harp seals are called in their babyhood, when yet fel by their mother's milk and while they are powerless to escape. 'The on then extrartett from the blubber is of n !Hitch finer quality than tlial obtained from the full-grown seals. These ordinary seals of the gulf, com- monly known as harp or Greenland seals, are perfectly defenceless. Not so, however, the hood seal, which is fre- quently mel with Ilse others. TIIE IIOOD SEAL. The hood Is much larger than the harp. The male, called by the hunters the dog flood, Is distinguished from the female by a singular hood or bag of flesh 011 his nose. When attacked or enraged he inflates this hoed so as to cover the face and eyes, and it is strong enough to resist seal shot. 'When thus protected he can only be killed by shooting h'ni in the neck and the base of the skull. The dog hood tights desperately in defence of his male and young ores, and if they are killed he becomes furious, inflates his hood and rushes on his foe. Instances have oc- curred in which a fight between an o1:1 dog hood and five or six men has lasted for an hour, and sometimes a hunter is seriously hurt and even killed in the en- counter. The greatest danger to these hunter:, however, is that of being caught with their vessels in the embrace of the ice giants of the gulf. Raft upon raft of bro- hen fragments of the ice fields is piled up sometimes fifty feet high, and often In the course of leinding snowstorms these are dashed Upon one another. Little can be expected to remain of the vessel caught between these enormous masses of ice. In one year a hundred Newfoundland- ers lost their lives Ir. this manner, fifty of thein going down in a single sailing ves- sel, the huntsman. Two other steamers were thus caught in the ice in 1896, and • he Arctic similar fate befell t irt]901as steamer hope, on board of which Conan Doyle had been a surgeon and which had brought horse the meteorite firnn Cape York. The crew, after suffering great hardships, were rescued by the steamer Greenland, which shared her fate last month. The reward of all the perils undergone is very small. The members of a crew dtvide their profits equally, and these often do not exceed 8200 for the season, trough formerly the average was at least $100. Seal oil, which was formerly worth 80 cents a gallon, now sells at from 30 to 35 cents, and there has -also been a falling off in the value of skins, which are chiefly made into leather and are worth about a dollar apiece. Their grey or pepper and salt colored ter is by no means unsightly. and they may become more valuable soon, as srt,i':e have recently been made up jnto winter overcoats, which retail in Que- bec for about 850, or one-tenth the price of Alaska seal. PICNIC PARTY I%iPRLSONED. White Men on holiday Trip Assailed by Basuto Tribesman. A remarkable incident occurred in Basutoland recently. A picnic party decided to make a trip into the Basuto country, which they entered by a pass known as the Luhl, ingubo, en the Natal frontier, and encamped for the night in n cave In the Drakensdterg. Proceeding on their journey the fol- lowing day, they asked a native to el - feet them to cave: in which they could Take their midday meal. The Basuto appears to have given information el their presence, for toward evening the party was intercepted by a number of natives. the old mein who appeared to be in charge carrying a gun. The, Eu- ropeans were then arrested, accused of being "while mens spies," and taken t, a place which had the appearance of a mountain stronghold beneath an o' - hanging cliff. Here the visitors' horses were turned astray, and the headman. telling them that they would not be allowed to re- enter Natal. signified that they would have to continue without their horses, and would have to carry their saddles. After a night spent under surveillance 111 a cave, the Basulos maintaining n close watch upon (heir captives, the party mace their escape by means of :i shalageue in which they %were assisted t y their Basuto guide, who helped them to capture the horses and lid them back to the pass by which They had entered. After a furious ride in Iho darkness, the precipitous nnlirre of the country leading to several exciting adventures, the party reached the Natal side early cn the niorning niter (heir escape, Ihor- ni'ghty spent and unnerved. Reformed Cannibal—"I v. lns." SOlbETIItN. 10 Ito t'+1 ma) be bldg.., na:t IV!! 1 OF. British blood in my TO COMBAT THE GAMORRA �I:IIiE1' SOCIETY 15 TIIE FONT OV ITALIAN I:ItIME, Goeernnienl Takes Drastic Measures to Itid the Country of Criminal Orgauliations. 4 butch of arrests recently trade in Naples illustrates the extremes to which tho Italian authorities often have to go t., combat the Camorra and other crust. nal organizations, of which the Malik._ Nand bands in this country are only feeble imitation. The occurence which lea up to the arrests took place last June. It was a double murder in Naples. A young roan named Cuocolo, who was supposed to bo a follower of the t:anlorra of the humblest grade, was en- ticed out to the Torre del Greco and stabbed to death. His body was covered with wounds in the usual way of sucll "executions." When the body was taken heene it was t. and that his wife had teen murdered too, stubbed to death in Um saute manner. Such investigation ns was made showed that the two murders had taken place simultaneously, and all the signs of a Camorrist plot were apparent. 'the local police promptly dropped the case. It luny here bo said that the arrests tint have been made were not only unknown to them, but greatly to their displeasure. The central Government at honis upper - 1.1111 nottco of the crimt ill. '1'•o t!have uredonn even an inquiryes ofathe Neapolitan police would have rendered detection Impossible. It was determined, however, that an effort should bo made le capture the criminals. Ten members of the Carabinieri, a highly trustworthy, courageous ant trained body of men, were detailed andel a captain to the case. They were ordered to disguise themselves as tramps—hie zaroni—and drift into Naples. They were ordered to lake up a life of crista, and promised immunity for anything they might do short of murdering re- spectable citizens, so long as they got next to the chiefs of the Camorra. in accordance with the programme, they snarled a career of sneak thieving and highway robbery. Some of them were arrested. In the prisons they met mem- bers of the Canton -a and made friends with. thein. They were initiated, and showed themselves so proficient and en- thusiastic in the malavita That they were taken into the favor of the chiefs. Then the arrests were made. MANY IMPLICATED. There are twenty prisoners charged with the murder of Cuocolo and his wife. They include the chief and the secret tri- bunal of the Camorro, the authorities say, besides the men who actually com- mitted the murders. 'The most notable prisoner Ls said to be one Toledo, one of the showiest frequenters of the Neapoli- tan theatres and cafes, and driver of the finest equipage on the Corso. He is known in the Honorable Society—the oMalTtcialndrierenai.l e of the Cumorra—as "114x` ha started In life as a cattle driver, driving oxen to the slaughter houses. Then ho became a butcher himself. Get- ting into the malavlla he made and saved money and became a sort of criminal capitalist. this ostensible purpose was lending money at usury, but he was be- sides receiver -general of stolen goods for art the crooks in Naples. The murder of the Cuocolas was instigated by hire on account of a denunciation to the police, which they had made in a fit of pique at some wrong he lied done them. it was regularly decreed nfler a form of trial— by the secret tribunal of the Contemn, and was carried out by some of its sworn agents. Extraordinary„ developments as to ramifications of the society are expected id the trial. KEEI'ING IT DARK. Perhaps the most unpopular men In the regiment was Captain Martinet ; but, et the sante time when Private Tomkins caught sight of hire floundering In >, swift -running river he forgot old scorns, divested himself of his toric, and sprang into 11►e water to his rescue. It was a difficult task, but eventually ho managed to bring the gasping, helt- dead oUlcer in safety to lite river -bank. "'Tompkins," he said in tones of grati- tude, \Olen he had rcmverel, "you've saved my life. flow can 1 show hew much 1 appreciate your action?" "That's all right. sir," said Tnrnpkins. "Don't say anything about it. that's all I ask—'specially not In the other fellers." "But why not?" asked the astonished captain. "Well. sir. If they get to know 1 pulled yer out of the river they'll chuck me in 1" TOLD\VIiAT 1T WAS. "Now, sir, 1 hope we shall have nO difficulty in getting you to speak up," said the barrister, In a very loud, cern- mantling voice. "1 hope not, sir," should the witness, at the lop of his lungs. "Ilow dare you speak to me in That way ?" cried the lawyer. "Itecnuse I can't speak no louder, sir," said the ostler. "Have you been drinking?" "Yes. air." "I Mould infer so Leon your conduct. \\int have you leen drinking?" "Coffee," hoarsely roc iternled the knight of the stelae. "Something shr,nger Ilinn rr,ffee, sir, you've been drinking! Don't hook at me !do Ihnl.. sir 1" furiously. "Look ,it the jury, sir 1 I)id you your cello.. sir 1'' "Yee. Els" "Whet was it?" "Sugar." "fire man 1.4 no fool, my lord ho Is \terse t" stormed thecouneel. "New, sir," ---burning to lite witrrrs_s— "l,ok at ate. What bale sugar did you lake in your coffer flee morning?' 'i he tastier collected Se, tomes, drew a doep bre'olh, anti, ilia )etre that could have been heard hall a .nine, away, bel- loaeA out :-- "A spune 1 A seen, sea' lwtkiu' else r have something in 1