HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1888-10-25, Page 2( [ Rrei rs Minim -Era) "Rave you lived 'Ong at Belfield Abbey?." went back to the poroh, and confronted the
NON' l�tkiaT PurtLIBFIED.l ALIt "Five years," detective.
Mee, Marrable,, the housekeeper, was next "I ata sorry to appear upon an un leenant
�T Adrian," said Melootte, "
T
. AIN D V L�
called, She was very pale, and her eyelids errand, Sir
• were swollen with wee lA . Shegave a have a warrant far our arrest , e
p g y accessory
By M. E, BR,A-DDQN.
AUJ;SOP,.QF"LADY AIIDLBX'$ SBCBET, WYIsLABD's WIIE), Erie.,ETot
ea kro R XLV.—Ox Trm;Racic. landau ready and lock sharp about ib, for
The behest had been celled for cloak
Mr, Belfield 1"
2 e .
"
tl,
Where
9
Wh re did you drive Mr. Belfield ..
• o n vv i u
infa o h ho r
the a, t u oh gave the
d•
e t
eotive tin, to Yet back from indon ho "I took him as far as the avenoo leading
t 6 4 L a rely � to the Abbey. Le the. middle of the avenoo
after the' opening of the enquiry, he puha out his 'ed and calls to me to atop,
The C rdant. heli his court in an upsbaire
room of tee lliug of Bells. I.t was a warns.
coated apertuteet, which: atordinary times.
was divided iuto two rooms, but, which in
its double length Wag used for - vestry
djnnere, auctieus, and public meetings of a.l
and getsout of . the trap almost before II
could atop, He gives nee a shilling and tells
pie to go home, and then he sauna off a'ntost
et a run terwards the .Abbey."
"Are you quite sure as to the date 1"
kruds. "Can't be no mietatre about that, The
Colonel DIV frill and Lird St. Austell sat fl
was thatnight. There it is in
teookers•daybooh. August 19th. Fly
near the (;pruner, with their faces in shadow, to Belfield. Abbey."
and their ti sures partly hidden from the t' You are sure the gentleman you drove
crowd as' the lower end of the room by an was Mr. Belfield ?"
old.fashioned fourfold soreen. To the .� Quito aura."
right of the Coroner ant a middle•aged, " Would you know Mr. Belfield from his
sandy whiskered gentleman, with a bald brother, Sir Adrienl" asked Mr. Gresham,
head, and a legal air, who took careful notes the Coroner having no farther gnestioue to
of the proeeedioge. ] r, was known to someask this witness.
of the sudieuce that`tzis t7entleinan was a "Yes, sir. Mr, Btideld's a bigger made
scflicitor from she Treasury, and that he man. I've known the two gentlemen by
wan present ie. the c Fpacity of Pnblio Prose sight since they was boys, and t could swear
outer ; but it was not kaown to anybody to either of them anywheres."
that his art ivel on the Beene was brought So for John Grange, of the Station
about byL,rd S;. Austell's urgent application Hotel.
to the hand authorities at the Home Office. Lady Belfield was the next witness called..
Lady Beldrid and Sir Adrian sat together She go, asked to state anyfacts she could
on the other side of the. room, and Lady recall connected with Mrs, Belfield's die
Belfield'a old and trusted lawyer, Mr. Gres• appearance.
ham, of the old•established firm of Gresham, " There is very little for me to recall,"
Gresham, and•Thorogood, Lincoln's Inn, sat she said. "My first knowledge of my
a little way in front of his client. - Adrian daughter-in-law's disappearance was from
had entreated his mother not to be present my housekeeper, at nine o'clock in the morn -
at this enquiry; but she had insisted, and bag. A housemaid had found Mrs Belfield'e
he could but submit to her will. She was room empty"
pale_as marble, and her plain black gown "A housemaid found her room empty in
and bonnet only made her pallor more con- the mo;;niug of August 20%. Had the bed
apicuous. Her old friend the Vicar sat just been slept in ?"
behind, her, and bent forward now and then +� It had not."
to speak to her. On the table in front of the r' Then the inference would be that she 1
Coroner and Jury lay the stained and ragged left the house at night."
remains of a small Persian carpet, a silk "I do not know that. She may have re•
handkerchief, and four rings mained up all night, and may have left early
Felix L,seby, a medic et practitioner of
Chadford, was the first witness. in the morning, before the servants were
uHe deposed to having examined the body, p« She leffe. letter, I understand ?"
which he pronounced to be that of a young ,t yes, eohoueemaid found a letter."
woman with long, auburn hair. lie had dill- " Addres to your son ?"
covered an injury aper. the left temple, a It was written to my son."
where the bone was fractured as if by a heavy" Was it a sealed letter ?''
blow, from some blunt iastrumeut. Such e. 1 "No, it was open and unfinished."
blow, he said, in answer to the Coroner's " An unfinished letter, left open, lying on
question, would be snffisient to cause death, a table, I presume.'
Where wee no other mark of violence. "I did not ask whera the letter was
The Coroner asked if death could have found?'`
been caused by drowning.
No. The state of the lungs indicated
that the deceased had died before she fell
into the water.
The rings on the table had been found on
the fingers of the left hand, which was so
confined by the carpet and the long hair
that it was impossible for the rings to have
been washed off by the action of the water.
He was of opinion that the body had been
in the river for some months ; probably, in
reply to a jurymau, six months,
Mr. Leseby further described how the
carpet had been tied round the body by the
long silk muffler now lying on the table.
The two men who had dragged the river
deposed to having found the body in a deep ,, I
pool,
which formed a little inlet, nadar a
of 71 .
• t
ows wee in
tide
Galr'onet ire -verde was nEat'examirised. ° He
had menthe remains, and believed them to
be those of. his daughter, on account of the
colour and texture of the hair. His daugh-
er, had been remarkable for the beauty and
profusion of her hair, which was of a peon•
liar shade of dark auburn, with a natural
ripple init. He could swear to the oat's
eye and diamond ring upon the table as his
daughter's engagement ring, given to her by
Mr. Belfield. He could swear to the black
enamel ring with a brilliant cross upon the
enamel. It was a mourning ring, and his
own gift to his youngest daughter. It con-
tained her mother's hair.
The Colonel was deeply affected while
giving his evidence, and Lady Belfield seem-
ed equally overcome. There was a dead
-silence at the end of the room where the
crowd was congregated—a silence of regret.
earl sympathy.
Mr. Belfield was next called ; wherenpoa'�
'Mr. Gresham rose and informed the Coron-
er that Mr. Belfield had gone to London
three days before. A message had been
telegraphed to him at the Great Western
Club, where be usually put up, and to the
two clubs which he was in the habit of using,
but no reply had been received.
It was at this juncture that Mr. Melnotte
quietly entered the room and made his way
to a seat at the back of the Coroner.
Sir Adrian Belfield w is next called.
"Did you see your daughter-in-law's room
that morning ?'
" No, I went to London by the morning
train. A telegram was delivered just after
I heard of my daughter-in-law's disappear-
ance—a telegram purporting to come from
my younger son in London, and which caus-
ed ma conside"rable alarm., I started for the
station as soon as my carriage could be got
ready."
" Was the telegram actually from your
son ?"
"It was not. t have reason to believe
that ib weep eat of a plot to lure my daughter
from her home."
"lids�ti�?inds�our son in London?"
He was asked to state the circumstances
of Mrs. Belfield's disappearance from the
Abbey
"I can only tell you that we rose -one
morning—on the morning of August 20th-
to find her gone."
" Did she leave no trace of the manner
by which she had gone ?"
"No. She left a letter stating her inten-
tion to leave her husband, which letter was
foxed by a servant after my sister-in•Iaw's
disappearance."
" Can you produce that letter ?"
"I cannot. It is in my_brother's posses-
sion."
me to sunieree} that life
"Either there or"at York. I had heard
of him last at York."
You did not know that he came to the
Abbey on the night of the 19th ?"
" I cannot believe that he was there."
" Yet you have heard the evidence of the
man who drove him into your park ?"
" I have heard that,"
" What time did you and your family re•
tire to rest on the the 19th of August ?'
" Mrs. Belfield left the drawing•room
soon after nine o'clock. She complained
of a headache. 1 went to my bedroom at
half past ten, and Sir Adrian went to the
library at the same time."
" Did you hear anything unusual daring
the night ?"
" Nothing."
" How far is your bedroom from that occu-
pied by Mrs. Brifield ?'
" It is at the other end of the hone."
You say Sir Adrian retired to the
library at half -past ten upon that particular
evening.Do you know at what hour he
went to his bedroom ?"
" It must have been very late. He is in
the habit of reading late atnight, and on
this night he told me that he read later than
usual and fell asleep in his chair in the lib
vary.�,
"Do you mean that he did not ge to bed
ab all?"
" He did not tell me that, only that he
had fallen asleep in his chair."
The next witness was Jane Pook, the
housemaid.
On being asked if she remembered any
thing particular, upon the morning of August
the twentieth, she described her entrance
into Mrs. Belfield's bedroom with the early
oup of tea, which that lady was in the
habit of taking while her bath was being
prepared for ber; and how she had found
the room empty and the bed undisturbed ;
and how on looking about the room she had
discovered an open letter lying on the floor.
"Did yon read that letter?"
" Yeti and Lady Belfield were both at the { " Yes, I was so taken aback that I read
Abbey. at the time of Mrs. Belfield's disap- tite letter almost before I knew what I was
pearanee, I understand." doing. If I'd had time to give it a thougbt,
" We were." I should have been above doing such a
" Do you know nothing as to the hour at thing."
which she went, or her mode of leaving' the " Did anything peouliar strike you in
house?" the letter?"
"Nothing." "It was a dreadful letter, telling her
He answered unfalteringly. He knew husband that she did not love him, and that
that in so answering he was guilty of per- she loved somebody else, and was going off
jury; but he knew also that the only chance with him. The Ietter wasn't finished. It
of saving his brother was to lie unblushing- left off in the middle of a sentence."
Iy. He who loved truth and honour better "Ass if she had been interrupted while
than hie own life was willing so to perjure writing it ?"
himself for the love of his brother, and of "Yea, sir."
the heartbroken mother yonder, whose cad "Did you observe anything else unusual
epee were watching him. on that particular morning ? ' enquired the
Was Mr. Belfield at the Abbey on that sandy -whiskered gentleman, upon the Coro -
night?" ner's interrogatory being finished.
Ho was not?" "No sir; nothing else, leastways—="
"td
betterYou euro of that fact t You had Jane Pook faltered reddened and looks
Yalta seriously, Sir Adrian, before nervously towards Sir Adrian,
you answer my queation." "There seas something else,' said the
He suspected an attempt to trap him into sandy whiskeredentleman. "What was
a fatal admission, and answered deliberate- g
ly;
"I am sure,"
"That will do, Sir Adrian. You can sit
down " The oil wart knelt out in the two lamps, and;
Melnotte whispered ered somethin to thethe t
Cor C g the candles on -his desk were burnt to
onor, and the next witness was called, sockets, Sir Adrian often site up late at ,'in
John Grange, coachman at the Station night, straying." 1i ro
Hotel, Chadford.road, "But does he often refrain from goingto 11%
"Do you remember anything. articular' at "' a n - i. e I
p bedall ? elsquirod th sandy whiskered
happening ,upon the 19th of August'last gentleman, w' th
Year ? " sit" y
c,ir-
r
�T s .
t
Yes, air, Y remember being called u�r. ',ma you ever know aunt a thing to donut offs
to take out a fly after eleven O'clock. There's before ?
a
train momrt ,
es intooft"
Cha
afo .
rd road
Station t
Ia
o ntc
air to mind, r
11.43,
,
heal.
h
.3ht
but we don't often get a fare by that ,'Yonmeauthat itnever did occur before' ?' 1
train, as it'll a s1ow'unn . X wan to geb my j �',f think nob, sir," r
vindiotive look at Mr, DXernotte, es she took, to the murder of MP, Helen Belfield. It ie
r
the saored volume in her hand, which Argued too serious a charge to admit of bail, so
i11 for the Christian temper 9f her mind at: mut request you to a000mpany me to Cha
that moment. ford without loss of time,"
"Doi you recognise anything upon that " You mean to Chadford goal,, f suppose?"
treble?" asked the Coroner. Yes. You will be treated he i
•o with
"No,d t r all
sir."es e t a
"Look a sin if r F !? t and ogommotlated with a private
again, you please, There ' is room. I mueb warn you that anythinglyon
something there which you have seen before. may say— "
Perhaps you had better put on your spectre. you may save yourself the trouble. ` I
9„ am nob going to say anything, exoepb. that
ales and look at the object a little nigger.
De you see now what lb ie ? I consider that Colonel Deverill has been
" It looks rather like an old rag," guilty of an ungentlemaplike action in bring.
' Ib is a rug. I think you have seen, that ing a detective into my. house as my guest."
rug before.""Colonel Deverill's position as a father
I cant call it' to mind. may excuse some lenityin 'a Dint of et`•
"I fear you must have a bad memory, quetto." F i
Mrs. Marrable. Did you ever mise a carpet
or rug of any kind out of one of the Abbey
bedrooms ?"
Again Mrs. Marrable looked at Melnotte,
the detective, and by the nervous anion of
her fingers it might be 'inferred that she
longed to irfiiet personal injury upon his
imperturbable countenance.
"I may have been foolish enough to talk
seine of my nominee to spies and eaves-
droppers,' she said acrimonicusly, "but as
to missing a rug or a carpet out of a house
where there's nothing but honest servants
"It was more than a point of etiquette;
it was a point of honour, Mr. Melnotte—if
your name is Melnotte,"
"My name is Markham. I born her Ma-
jesty's commission before I joined the de-
tective police, Sir Adrian. Necessity coo..
pets men to adopt strange trades. Will you
be driven to the gaol in your carriage, sir,
or will you allow me to drive you in gig ?
Thompson can walk back."
"I may as well go in your gig. It is too
dark for auyone to recognise me ; and'for
-- the matter of that, everybody in Chadford
will know where I am before tomorrow
"Mrs, Marrable, was there or was there morning. Be good enough to wait white I
not a Persian rug missing out of Mrs, Bel. give an order to my servant."
field's bedroom on the twentieth of August?" T 'e detective waited, taking care not to
askedths sandy -whiskered gentleman severe. let Sir Adrian out of his sight daring the
iy. "`Remember, if you please, that you' brief delay.
are on your oath. Adrian ordered a valise to be packed with
Mr. Marrable hesitated, looked piteously the necessary changes for an absence of three
at her mistress, whose face was rigid with or four days, and then sat down at a table
agony, and replied :— in the hall to write to his mother, while
"I did mise a Persian rug." . Markham stood in front of the fire, warming
" Can you tell me the pattern of that rug?". his back and admiring the stately old
It was something of a pine pattern," -panelled hall and vaulted roof.
"If you will be good enough to look It was a difficult letter to write, and
closer at the rug on the table, I think you,.Adrian could think of only one form of
will see that it is a pine pattern." consolation. "My arrest may make my
It is too much diecolored for me to brother'a escape easier," he wrote. " They
make out anything about it," cannot find any direct evidence against me,
You are underrating your own intelli- and on reflection I believe it will be
genco. Pray look at the rug again, Now, impossible to bring any conclusive proof
will you swear that it is not the rug you against Valentine. Put your trusb in
last saw in Mre. Belfield's bedroom ?" Providence, dear mother, and hope for the
passing of the dark hour. My heart is less
heavy than it was under the burden of an
intolerable secret."
An hour later his mother was sitting by
his side in the gloomy -looking room which
he was privileged to enjoy in Chadford
gaol.
" 1Iy poor Adrian, it is so hard that you
should suffer—you, who are innocent—who
would have saved your brother's good name
had he only been guided by you. It is very
hard." 4's t'
" I can bear ib, mother. I would bear
more for your sake. Would to God it had
been possible for me to pay the penalty of
my brother's crime. I would have done as
much willingly—for your sake."
(To BB COETINIIED,)
Nee,
" Then perhaps you will admit that it is
•the same rug? Remember that to deny a
fact of which you are convinced is perjury.'
" I believe it is the rug."
"That will do."
The brief winter day had closed in some
time before the enquiry had arrived at this
stage; and the coroner now suggested the
adjournment of the inquest to give time for
the development of fresh evidence.
"The Daae is a very painful one, gentle-
men," he said, "an exceptionally painful one,
and I should be sorry if anything were done
in a hurried er precipitate manner. I believe
that upon every consideration it will be best
that this enquiry should be adjourned until
next Friday, when we will meet again in
this room at the same hour as we met to -day.
The interment of the remains of that un-
happy lady whose fate we are here to inves-
tigate, can be proceeded with in the mean-
time.,,
It was some time before the .room was
cleared of coroner, jury, reporters, and
audience, but Lady Belfield and her son did
not wait for the crowd to disperse. They
retired e iced to t
e her
a door near
the end g by
us' escaped the crowd.
Sir Adrian put his mother's hand through
his arm and supported her faltering footsteps
as he led her downstairs and out into the
dusky street, where her carriage was waiting
for her. She spoke no word until after the
carriage had moved away, and then at lash
the white lips moved, and she asked in tones
that were almost like a wail of agony :—
"Is this true, Adrian ?"
"What, mother ?"
"Is it true that he oame to the Abby that
night ? '
"Yes, it is true."
` Oh, God 1 And you swore that he was not
tuere."
"I perjured myself—to save him. I knew
nothing about the fiy. I did not know that
any one had seen him.
"You tried to save him—that means that
he is guilty—that—ho killed her," sobbed
Lady Belfield in broken snatched of speech.
Adrian was silent for some moments,
thinking deeply, deliberating with himself
if It might be possible tokeep the fatal truth
from his mother. But it seemed to him
that it would not be possible, that the
meshes of the net were fast closing round
him and his brother, that all which had
been done that night in the darkness must
inevitably be brought to light. The only
hope left was that Valentine. might escape
pursuit.
" Mother, I have striven to,keep this hor-
ror from you ; I have sworn falsely this day
in the hope that. my brother's guilt might
remain for ever hidden ; but after to -day I
feel that all is over, that the evidence you
have heard must bring his guilt home to your
mind as well as to the mind' of strangere,
only he is not so guilty as he may appear—
he was not a deliberate murderer."
And then he told his mother, briefly,
plainly, unflinchingly, how the deed had
been done ; how one moment of passion had
made Valentine Belfield acriminal ; and how
he had obstinately insieted upon hiding his
crime, and had thus brought upon himself
the ignominy of this day's enquiry.
" How are we to save him, Adrian ?" ask-
ed Lady Belfield, " We must save him --
oh, God, to think of my beat beloved arraign.
ed for. murder, standing in the dock to an.
ewer with his life, They would hang him,
Adrian—they would hang my darling—my
idol—the delight of my life. Oh, Adrian,
you can help me to save him, to geb him
away to some safe hiding place before the
police can hunt him down. There are cor-
ners of the earth where he would be safe. I
would go with him, live with him, live with
hurt anywhere ; in the dreariest epot of earth,
among a savage people ; happy and full of
gratitude to God, only to know that my
dearest had'been saved from a ,shameful
death."
" We will do all that ingenuity Dan do,
ar mother," Adrian answered` quietly,
hile his mother eat baeklin a corner of the Chance is a word void of sense f nothing
arriage her face hidden, her whole frame can exist without a Dense. -[Voltaire, lam,
onvulsed by the violence of her soh%. "In Various Japanese towne are building
1 probability Valentine has left England water works, the Tokio works having prow-
fore now, The fact that he has not writ- :ed so successful.
n to me may mean that he is on the sea ;1 Photographer -"Ever thing is read
aty.
he snatched the earliest opportunity of Please smile." .li.ontuckian-"Thank you,
tting away?" r l: don't ogre if I de."
The carriage was in the avenue bythis
I Admiral Krantz, the trench Minister of
ime. Aa the coachman drewup his horses Marine declares he will not agree to addl.-
front
of the Abbe a gigdrove'ra p idl ' t agree ,
Abbey, ,p y t tonal reductions in the naval budget.
and the gravel aweep and pulled up in the
ar of the oarriage, A little girl, bele asked to define a vol.
Two men alighted from the gig. One of basso, answered, "t's a tnountatn that
em was Melnotte ' the detectivesand in' throws up fire, smoke and liver."
he other Sir Adrian recognized aloalpollee' Duty is the power which tine with nd in
eer. the inorning, and goer! to rest with no at
lie took ad notice of the two men until he night. It is coextensive with the action of
ad asnutted his mother into the house, and' our intelligence. It et the shadow whioh
aced her in the Dare of her maid, whe was cleaved to us, where we will. and whioh only
tivrating in the ball to receive het, When ile' ieatos tis when we leave the light of life.
de
w
c
c
al
be
"Sir Adrian's bed had nob been slept in." E th
Where had Sir Adrian spent the night?
"He nowt have been all night in the library. ga
Jim's Curiosity.
Jim was a little boy, and about as
full of curiosity as any midget that
ever lived. He was never satisfied with
questioning his seniors concerning certain
subjects, but endeavored always to find out
he rwitte end' .89-ruS{ wfiatt'to do "vfiffihlabt
precocious youngster, for he kept up a con-
tinual volley of questions, and even upon be-
ing amply informed as to all the particulars,
he was not satisfied until he found out for
himself.
One day his mother heard a military band
passing the house, and anxious to give Jim s
chance to satisfy his curiosity without asking
questions, she called him to the open win-
dow. Bat this was' not enough for the little
questioner. He looked for a. few moments
at the gaily dresied musicians, and then in-
quired
"Mamma, what do you call those men?"
" Why they are called the drum corps,
my boy," answered his mother.
" What a funny name, isn't it, mama?"
" Oh, I don't know," returned his mamma
with a sigh.
After the band had passed little Jim was
unusually silent. Evidently he was think.
ing. At last he inquired :
"Mamma, hasn't an apple got a core ?"
" Why yes, Jimmie, why do you ask ?"
"Oh, nothing."
The next day Jim wanted a drum, and a
drum he must have. His mother had a
great deal of coneideration fork -or neighbors,
and hesitated to bring this torture to boar
upon friends. Then again there was another
thing to be considered. She was in the
habit of borrowing parched coffee and a little
bit of tea when she ran short, not to say
anything of tbo butter, eggs, bread, veget-
ables and other trifles which go to make up
the ordinary meal. It she offended her
neighbors they might retaliate and cub off
the source of supplies. Bub at length she
yielded, and a drum was bought.
In the afternoon little Jim who had em-
ployed the whole morning in driving the
neighbors insane, entered the house with his
drum in sections, When his mother witness
ed this strange state of affairs she inquired, :
" Well, well,. Jimmie, what have you been
doing with your drum?"
" Why, mamma," answered Jimmie with
a look of wonder in his eyes ; " you spoke
of the drum corps when that band passed
here. I took my drum apart to find the
core.''
Probably his mother did not laugh and
kiss her boy when he gave that answer. I
think she did.
A Considerate Husband.
" ;There ain't any blemishes about this
animal ?" asked the would-be purchaser of
a Dow.
+" No, she is all right ; bub I' mueb toll
you, candidly, that sometimes she kinks
when she is being milked," replied the own-
er of the cow.
" That's all right, My wife doom the
milkin'."
LATE GABLE NEWS,
The Young German Emperor on His Tray -
els —$ouianger Still. the Talk i
France,.:
Loynox, O.rb, 13, -The young Garman
Em?oror, whose ohiefest joy seems to be to
travel and nd kiss othertenial
yo es, has this
week again been aaking for the concentrated
attention of Europe and getting it. ' On this
occasion he has been hobnobbing with the
King of Italy and conferring with His Holi-
ness the Pope, and neither circumstance nor
Ceremony has been spared to make the pro-
oeedinga inipreasive. Asto the political im-
portance of this fast trip, it probably
amonnte, like the attain, to practically
nothing at all, The young German Emper-
or is going around, satisfies itis own vanity,
advertises to the world and particulariy to
the French, in a theatrical manner how very
friendly he is with neighboring monarchies,
whioh probably suite Bismarok, his guard -
in, and, in short, has a lob of fun at other
eatfona' ex 'ense. The various rulers he has
visited will have spent between' them quite
a million pounds of their people's money to
amute him, This is so much saved to fath-
erland. The Russians, who were so very
much pleased at reoeiving the first imperial
visit and raved about an eternal Russo•Ger-
man alliance, have changed their tune, and
rage at the affectionate demonstrations be-
tween the German and Austrian rulers, the
toasts to their respective armies, and the
lack of all apparent reference to a settlement
of the Bulgarian gaestion on Raasian lines,
howhichpeforthe. Czar seems to have been led to
In lovely, squabbling France, they still
talk nothing, but Boulanger, All the un-
lucky ones gather round him because they
hope for a chance of any kind. His prosper-
oas friends are increasing in number. The
excitement and fear of his enemies is made
plain by nervous meetings of Deputies' and
Cabinet officers trying to prepare for the
storm which they feel sure will break when
the Chamber reassembles. Rochefort, who
is perhaps Boulanger'a strongest support,
next to that which supplies him with money,
continues faithful to his brave General.
War, he says, is nearer than ever. Bou-
langer iv the only one to lead France to it.
He will do all he can to give power to Bon-
langer as long as the latter is true to the
republic.
Not So Quiet.
At a small village in Cotswold, Eng:,
there was to have bean a quiet little wen-
ding, but "The best laid achemes o' mice
an' men gang aft agley."
When the couple to be married arrived,
the minister was missing, and all efforts to
find him failed. After hours of waiting,
the bridegroom and friends conceived the
idea of ringing the big bell in the belfry, in
the hope that it might reach the missing
clergyman, and jog his memory.
They had forgottentthat the church bell
was only tolled on week -days to give an
alarm of fire, and before they had rung
many minutes, the entir',rtgnemlation had
surrounded the ccurch, afire department, to find cit 'AV" ns'
r�A
The militate -it., -i ho"hid altogether forgot-
ten the marriage, came to find out about
the fire, and he performed the ceremony in.
the presence of a very large and excited
gathering.
Books About America.
Of the making of books about America in
general and the United States in particular,.
the London Spectator says, there is no end.
" A narrative of travel in Amerioa is always
read, no matter how many predeoeseors it
has had ; the subject seems to have a fascin-
ation as strong and lasting as that of the
history of Napoleon. Tho English reading
world is always curious about the United
States—perhaps from some odd motive, like
that which makes married people who have
separated by mutual consent invariably in-
quisitive about each other, restlessly attract-
ed by the idea of meeting somebody who
has recently seen either party to the com-
pact of dissociation ; perhaps simply from
the queer mixture of similarity and contrast
between ourselves and the citizens of the
Great Republic, and the ease with which we
realize all that is told us respecting people
who speak our own language.
' A Slight Mistake.
The Dean of Durham (Dr. Lake) is very
quick to seize an occasion. A large meet-
ing of temperance reformers was held in
Durham the other day. At the conclusion
of Evensong in the cathedral, the Dean,
seeing a larger congregation than usual,
went to the lectern, and there in a hospit-
able speeeh welcomed the visitors to his
cathedral. He commended their work and
compared it favourably with that of the
Crusaders of old. The evident amusement
with which the Dean's remarks was receiv-
ed may perhaps be accounted for by the
fact that the temperance folk had taken
their departure from Durham some hours
before, and the, Deane hearers consisted of
a host of " cheap trippers," who had avail.
ed themselves of the licensed victualler's
excursion to the Darham flower show.
•
Tenting His Memory.
Bobby was spending the afternoon at his
aunt's, and for some moments had been gaz-
ing out of the window in a painfully thought
ful Bort of way " What makes you so seri-
ous, Bobby'i" asked his aunt. " Why, ma
told me that I must remember net to ask for
anything to eat, and I am trying to remem•
ber
The Root of the Trouble.
" Robert," said the father, aternly,
" don't Iet me ever hear of your going to
the closet again for cake."
"It wasn't my fault, 'pa,"
" Not your fault ?"
"No ; if ma hadn't told you you wouldn't
have heard of it."
Prof. Proctors Memory.
The late Richard A. Proctor was re-
markable for his memory. He said of
himself :—"I attribute my success in acquir-
ing what knowledge 1 possess 0 unflagging
industry and as retentive a memory ad any
MU was -ever blessed with, r believe my
memory is ad good as Meeaulay's was. I
never forget anything I know, Facts can-
not escape after they have been once im.
prisoned in my reeniory."—Ex,
The deaf often hear conversation whorl
there is music going on, which they could i through derangement, owing to overheppl•
not hear When there Was no inhale, nerve at :narr,i2ge,
A Cxu,iding Voice,
A touching story Dame to us last winter
trout Minnesota. A farther, living on the
edge of one of the many lakes of that State,
ntartecl to gross it in a email Bail -boat one
evening after dark.
The wind changed, and a gust overturned
the boat when he was in the middle of the
lake. The surface of the water was covered
with large masses of floating ice.
The
farmer was an expert swimmer, -and.
at* out boldly toward that part of the
shore where be thought his house /stood ; but
he grew confused in the darkness ; the roe
formed rapidly over the whole lake.
He was in a small geiokly narrowing circle,
in which he beat about wildly, the chill of
death creeping over his body. He gave p
ladat la, and was sinking in the freaa�tng.
water, when he heard a sound.
It was the voice of his little girl, oalli ag
him: "Father 1 father 1"
He listened. The sound of her voice
would tell him which way home lay. It
put freak life into him. He thoughb, "If she
would only call once more 1 But she will
be frightened at the dark and cold. She
will go is and shut the door". —
But just then name the cry, loud and
clear ; "Father!"
"I turned," said the man afterward, in
telling the story, "and struck out in the
opposite direction. 1 had been -going away
from home. I fought my way; the ioa
broke before me. I reached the shore and
home at last,
" But if my dear little girl had not per-
sisted in calling me, though "hearing no
reply, I should have died there alone under
the ice."
The story of many a man's life is like
that of this voyage. He Bets out, happy
and eager in the sunshine, to make %passage
to his heavenly home, and presently, in
the storms and chills of the world he loses
his way and sinks. He is vicious, or a
drunkard, or maddened by money -making ;
he has lost the faith in God, the love for
his neighbor, the hearty fellowship which
other men have ; he has lostthe guiding
which the lip ht of the oonsoienoe gives ; he
is sinking down to death in freezing depths.
But there is always one spot warm for
him while he lives, there is always one
voice calling to him which, if he will hear
and heed, will bring him home,
It may be his child with most men it is
the remembrance of their mother ; it may
be the love of mucic, or of green, growing
things, or a hidden reverence for the long -
neglected Bible. It is often a single noble,
fine trait in himself which gives the lie to
his coarser nature.
But whatever it be, when we see the sign
of it in any man, however criminal he may
have been, we may know that the ice has
not yet closed over his soul, that home still
waits for him yonder, and that God ha
sent his messenger to summon him to den
to it.
While God thus calls him home, and shows
him the way, it is not for us to condemn and
thrust him downward, but rather;to help and
encourage him'
The Duchess of Rutland on Total-Abstin-••.,'
ence.
Physicians' assure us that a very large pro-
portion of eases of ill -health are caused by
overindulgence in strong drink. Sir Will-
iam Gull, who, as we all remember, was in-
strumental in saving n
g the li
fe o
tth P
rin e
of
ales when towns at death's door, writes
etimee given to stimulate diga±sr.':nl is
should not be prepared to go so far ; I ghoul%
be prepared to advise the use of alcohol on
certain occasions when a person was ill, but
to say that persons should drink habitual-
ly—day by day—I should not be prepared
to recommend. All alcohol, and all things
of an alcoholic nature, injure the nervous
tissues pro tempore, if not altogether. You
may quicken the operations, but you do
not improve them. And, even in a moder-
ate measure, they injure the nervous tissues
and are deleterious to health. Alcohol acts
upon the brain, and came the blood to
flow more rapidly in the capillary vessels.
I should like to say that a very large num-
ber of people in society are dying day by
day, poisoned by alcohol, but not supposed
to be poisoned by it. 1f a patient came
before me as a drunkard, and not as a sick
man, I would say, get rid of the alcohol at
once. In the case of an habitu tl drunkard,
to whom drinking had become a second na
ture, Iwould, when he left it off, recom-
mend nothing beyond good food. It would
not at first supply the craving, bub it
would ultimately overcome it, Perhaps
I might to apologize for making so long a
quotation, but testimoney from Sir Will-
iam Gull is indeed valuable. He concludes
with this sentence : "I should say from my
experience that alcohol is the most destruct-
ive agent that we are aware of in this coun-
try" In another paper he says, "The public
ought"to know of all the diluents or aolvente
for the nutritious parts of foods there is
nothing like water. Water carries into the
system the nutriment in its ,crest term."
Mimicry in Nature.
The work of nature is carried on so
constantly that it is often difficult to
comprehend her method. Cause and effect
arerelative. Every cause is the effect of
some earlier operation, and every effect will
cause some subsequent change. In looking
over the ground, the old question comes up
over and over again : Does the duck, swim
because it has webbed feet, or has it webbed
feet because it swims ?
Bat is working out the great variety of
results a method is plainely shown. Certain
methematioal principles give like figures
to objects which are in no other way related.
The overlapping, pointed scales on the out-
side of the pineapple are arranged in the
Same order as these of the pine cone• No
dfreuuit.bb this mimicry gave name to the
It is of interest to Bee how extensively
this arrangement is followed. Not only
in the cones of great variety is ib found, but
in the order of leaves and fronds. Those
who have a chance to ace tropical tree -ferns
in conservatories or elsewhere, will not fail
to notice that where the fronds have fallen
from the stem the scars left are ranged in
spiral lines.
Again, there are spiny euphorbiaa that
have the stem abrikingly like the cactus, and
ib is said that the iron -woods of the bropioa
braucbiike our equittumea •r horsetailes.
On the river banks of Central America
grow many different plants which have what
Humboldt calls the willow form. -There
are the genuine willowa, and with them grow
a leathery bamboo, a linden, a yellow -
flowering bignonie, often forty feet high,
and a tall composite, all having the same
foliage, habit, and mode of grotsth as the
willows themaelve.
In the Pip. Islands, Dr. Seeman reports
having found growing by the rivers four
different natural orders, yob all having
willow•leat�es.
John SwanofStrood, Eng, , drownedhrmaelf