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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Exeter Times, 1895-3-28, Page 3e'47 4 47, t )00E625 " ' ii ,. 4F' tketki IL , C E Coughs, Croup, by an Druggists on a Back Or Chest Shiloh's great satisfactione--05 - Guarantee. Porous cent% ,Grz or Kidney' It 60 , if P d 1 . Sore b. I ft If will cts. in . VNE'S-REAli , 1 tii , ou HOWIE CureS COnnullaptiOta, Throat. Sold For A Larne Side, Plaater will give SHILOH'S blue T. S. Rawkine, 'Molt's. Vita/tem' consideeitthebestraradeeforadeaintatedsusteree . I me used." For 'tunable it (MOWS, SI LO 10 Have yon Catarrh? poaitively relieve This Injector I urnished free sive er'd ev", Tuarantee VOTALIZEEN Chattanooga, Tenn...ea,: 'SAVED 111Y Dyspepsia, LiVer Pr lee 75 CM HVS,CATATI . iC"I' REMEDY. Try this Remedy. and Cure you. Price for ite succeesful treatment i •maelther,Shiiot•satemedleS r• •-4 ve eatisfaction. LEGAL, 4, LFI.DIORSON,Barrister, Soli- . otter of Supreme Court, Notary Public, Conveyancer, Commissioner, &a Money to Doan. Oilleei n anson'aBloolt. Exeter, D TIPP .H. COLLINS, .1.1b Barrister, Solicitor, Conveyance, Etc. b.RETER, - CYST. . OFFICE: Over O'Neil's Bank. VLLIOT & ELLIOT, .1.1.1 • • Barristers, Solicitors Notaries l'ablio, , Conveyancers &c, '85c. iterMoney to Loan at Lowest Rates of interest. OFFICE. - .MAIN - STREET, EXETER. H. V. IA LLIOT . FREDIMIC ic ULM rvr . . . 101.0.01 MEDIOAL Jw. BROWNING M. D., M. 0 . P. 8, Gre.tinate Victoria tiniver tr office and residence, Donation Lobo a tory .Exe be r . DR. HYNDMAN, coroner for i as County of Huron. Office, opposite Carling Bros. store,Ilseter. DRS. ROLLINS& AMOS. Separate Offices. Residence same as former. ly, Andrew sb. Offices: Spackanan's building. Main st ; Dr Rollins` same 0,9 formerly, north door; Dr. Amos" same building, south door. J. A. ROLLINS, M. D., T. A. AOS, M. ee Exeter, 0013 AUCTIONEERS. THARDY, LrCENSED AUC - . 4 . tioneer for the County of Huron. ,Cherges moderate. Exeter P. 0. , -------- EBOSSEN BERRY, General LA- . calmed Auctioneer Sales conducted in auparts. Satisfaction gu aranteed. Charges . inoderate. liensall P 0, Out. A ENRY EILBER Licensed Ann - blamer for tbe Counties of gluon and Mioalesex . Sales conducted at mod- erate rates. °trice , at Posb-ottee Ored. ton On 1. • assmormov.lamono(4344aseammenemsoviscomd MONEY TO LOAN. ONE1 TO LOAN AT 6 AND M --1- Percent, $25,000 Private Funds. Best Loaning Companies represented. L. II. DICKSON, Barrister. Exeter. „..,,,,........„,_, — VETERINARY. Tennent& Ferment EX.IIIT.ER. ONT. . • desee ee&este.. -..- Gradnaterof the Ontario Veterinary Col If fr. OFFSCE : (Ins 'torn. Routh ofTnwn Ran, , i ' 1 3 1 1 1 I 1 I 1 7 i. ' I e t 0 h a f ( t o t b il t 3' TT ci le 01 d, tr al „, "1 Si m „... IR g( a r .• ko a or dc di re 110DuNN-s to th by att sin ' bu THE W.P...TERLOO MUTUAL FIRE INSURAN0 EC 0 . llistahliehed In 1863, HEAD OFFICE - WATERLOO, ONT. This Company has been over Twenty-etsh years in successful °per ition in Western Ontario, and continues to insure against loss or damage by. Fire, Buildings, gerchandise Manufactories and all other desoriptioas of insurable property. Intendine insurers hare tbe option of insuringon the Premium &tate or Cash System. During the past ten years till's company hae issued 57.090 Polioies, covering property to the amount of $40,872.038; and paid in losses alone 0. S709,752.011 Assets, $176,100.00, oonsisting of Cash in Bank government Deposi t and the ,unasses- ted Premium Notes on hand and in force J.W•WALeina M.D.. President; O. M. Domes Secretary : J. B. fluoints, Inspootor. . ClIAS KELL, Agent for Exeter and viainite . T.n - . • I • POWDERS Cure SICK HEADACHE wed Nenselgat • In no surfurcre, also Coated Tongue, Deszi- efesseleilieuenens Pain in the Side, Constipation, Torpid Liver, 13,d Breath. to stay cured also • regulule the bowels. VEAV WOE TO TAME. 'er. PAIGE go c Av NTS DRUG STORES, NERVE BEANS •weakness NEIIVE HEA146 aro a new dor °ovary that cure the wont eases of Nervous Debility, Lost Vigor and railing Manhw; restores the of body or mind caused by over -work, or the errors Stere cams of youth, This Remedy ob. obstinate cases when all other butte telieee. sold by drup or mix for 15, or soot by mail on E .TAMESy THE IdEDJOINII '8Vrito torRanvill.t• n - t Sold a ' a Drug Store, Exeter • delutolit atop the most EREATMARITE have failed ret ill par package, eint of price briddreesing t„ TorooLo. Ont. Sold at BrowningI RA4 TWENTY-FIVE YEARS y EAKIN C POWDED THE COOK'S BEST FRIEND LMititICAST SAE IN CANADA• A WOMAN S CHAPTER XXXI. DAISY'S DIARY. "X WILI.AEVAlt." This •morning the question was mooted, Who was to give me away? is NESS j1.1,10 as breakfast was over, and Mr. Arden had not yet gone off to his hermitage on the other side of the lane. "out step,fathor is, of course, the proper person," said my mother, looking at her husband with her sweet, gentle smile, a look I understand so well, a look which IMAM kinclhoess, esteem, respect, oonaideration, but which never yet meant love "No," I cried, hastily ; "there is only one person who must give me to my hue - band, and that person is my mother." ' "My dearest, it would be so unusual for woman—" began mother. Mr. Arden interrupted her hastily. Not in the case of a widow, Clara," he said, in his calm, measured way, RS if there were no hint of aversion in my hasty pro. •test. "1 agree with Daisy—you are the fittest person to give your daughter to the man of her choice. The act will stamp your approval of the union, and Daisy is wise in wishing thee. it should be so." Twice he mentioned me by my old limi- ter name without the faintest emotion. No witness of that scene could have suspected from his tone or conduct that there was any gulf between us. I sat with my eyes fixed upon the table -cloth, waiting for him to leave us before I could feel happy or at ease. It was on the morning after this that the dreadful shock came, and still this man of blood was calm and collected, equal to the occasion. The newspapers are delivered at River Lawn at about ten o'clock, and on this particular morning we were later than usual at breakfast, and the meal was only just over when Mead 'brought in his tray of papers ready sired and out. My step•father took the "Times," my mother the " Morning Post." I am only interested in Mead's tray on the mornings that bring the " World," " Punch," or "Truth ;" so on Tuesday morning there was nothing to claim my attention, and I sat idly by while the other two read their papers. An exclamation from my mother start- ed me from a reverie. " Oh, Godl" she cried, rising hurriedly and going over to her utband with the newspaper in her hand, "10. has come, it has come at last. ' Ven- geance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord,' 1 My husband's murderer will be punished—after all these years, Ambrose, o you see, do you know what has hap- pened? Have you read ?" " Have I read what? My dear Clara, re you mad ?" he asked, looking up At her wonderingly, as she stood before him with white cheeks and dilated eyes. "Have you read the French news? A dreadful Murder—the murder of a woman y a man who ts supposed to be her bro- ther—by a man called Leon Duverdier alias laude Morel. , Claude Morel ! The man who killed my husband 1" " No, I have not seen the French ews," he said slowly. A lie 1 The paper lay under his hand s he spoke'and I saw the heading of the olumn—" Paris. By Telegraph." "Read, then • read the account of the urder, and of the man. He is in prison. e was oaught at once this time ; taken ed -handed. The police in Paris are better hau the feeble wretches who let my dear •ove's murderer go scot-free. Read, read, ead, Ambrose 1" She was beside herself with agitation. er husband started to his feet, and put arm round her and held her to his reast, held her against that false and cruel eart whose baseness she knew not. " Control yourself, Claiu, for pity's sake. °member we have no sure ground for be - eying that Vlorel was the murderer." "Yes, yes, we have, conclusive grounds. he use of his sister's name to decoy my usband ; that in itself was all -sufficient roof. And now, see, the sister is murder - d, brutally, savagely stabbed to death by he same hand." "10 there has • been murder done, the urderer Will suffer for his mime ; and in at case your husband Will be avenged." " No, no ; that is not enough. That ther more deliberate crime muet be brought ome to him. His judges must know what wretch he is. French juries are so rnerci- 1. He will be recommended ta mercy. nly the murder of a sister, on the spur of e moment. There will be the plea extenuating circumstanoes. But let em know how he lured an unoffending an to a lonely room and killed him in cold ood for sordid gain, and even a French ry must condemn hivn to death." " My dearest, you are talking wildly. A an can only be tried for one crime at a me. If he be acquitted of murdering his ster, he can then be indicted for the tirder ef Robert Hatrell. You must be Im and patient." "Let no go to Paris to -night." " I will go there, if you like, and find t all about the man and his crime. It ould be nselese for you to go." " No, no: 1 want to be there, in the ty where the murderer is waiting for his ern." "My dear Clare., I can not allow you to avel under ouch conditions. I would not awer for your reason if you were to go on such a jeurney. Nor could you pos- ly leave your saaughter, on the eve of her arriage, upon any such mad errand, heteeer ha a to be done I Will do,. I will to -night, and will -remain in Paris until ter this man's trial. I will find out who o really is, and if he le identical with the aude Morel whose sister your husband ea admired. Yc u may rely upon nee to everything that 18 necessary or expe- ent. Only, for God's sake, be calm, be scalable. Remember how precious your' o and reason are to your daughter and me. Remember bow both trembled in e balance years ago in this house." My poor dear mother commanded herself a great effort. I could see how she uggled with her agitation, how earnestly strove to be calm. , "1 never thought that the hour of retri. ion vrould come," she said. "Oh, the toh, the heartless wretch, to strike a rong man don 1» the fiower of 18 years, to out short 06 fleet a life I No, 1 will not talk of him nny snore, Ambrose," she said, if in answer to a warning look from. her bus - "1 will be calm and patient and wait for the end. lb ie corning in .God's own good time: You need not be afraid CI f me. Daisy and I will stay here quietly While you go to Paris. And you will send me daily reports. Yon will not kcal) ree in the dark—" "Nob for an hour." They went out of the room together, mother leaning on his arm, oonfiding in him and relying upon him, as if he were the best of men, I was left alone to think over what had happened, and to consider how this new phase of our terrible history was likely toaaffeot the dear mother. First, I read the aocouut of the murder in the Times," a brutal murder, the act of a thief and desperado. I will not sully this book by recording it here, sine its only bearing on my lite lies in the fact that this wretch who nuirdered his sister in a villa in the Bois de Boulogne the night before last is in all probability the wretch who killed my father. I read the savage history, and then I thought, and thought but I only felt so much the more hopeless and miserable; and I saw how futile it was for me to think alone, while the other hall of me was not at my side to kelp me out of every difficulty. So I just ran into the lobby, put on my hat, and went out into the garden to see if I could find my dear- est and best, who would be able to give one wise counsel, and whose very voice would enable me to keep up my courage, were I hemmed round by difficulties, Ibis wintry weather everywhere in this last month of the year, but our gardens are so rich in aonifers, la,irels, and arbutus that they never look bare or cold ; and the shrubbery is so sheltered by dander and cypress, that an invalid might walk there even on the coldest morning. I knew it was Gilbert's habit to smoke his after - breakfast cigarette on the other side of the fence and that I was most likely to find him within Mother had allowed him to make a gate of com- munication between his shrubbery and ours, not many paces from the arbor where I first discovered that I adored him. I found him this morning standing close by this gate, with a very grave countenance, evidently on the watch for me, and I saw to a glance that he had read all about the murder. He had, and we talked the hideous story over together. "How will it affect Mr. Arden?" I asked. "If he is the guilty 'wretch you think him it may affect him most terribly. The man Morel has been taken red-handed, and can not escape condemnation. If he is the murderer of Denmark Street, if your step- father prOmpted that murder,as you believe, he may, out of sheer devilry, make a full confession before he goes to the guillotine, denounce his accomplice, and die in the odor of sanctity." "And then my mother will know every- thing, and the rest of her life will be made miserable," said le My step -father left us this evening. I felt sick with apprehension when I saw mother bidding him good-bye in the hall, while the carriage waited to drive him to the station ; she so full of kindness and concern for his comfort on the cold night journey, be pale and somber, speaking with evident effort " You are looking so ill tonight, Am- brose, " she said. "1 fear you are hardly equalto the journey, and the trouble that ina.y came afterward." "I must face both, Clara. My chief anxiety is about you, and your peace of mind," he answered, gravely, "If you will only be true ,to yourself, I fear noth- ing. You have your daughter and her husband to think of; new duties, new ties, the beginning of a new existence." It seemed to me as if he were renouncing all share in her life, all claim to her affec- tion. He looked at me earnestly, queetion- ingly, an.1 then. as I made no inovement, toward him, he said quietly: "Good -night and good-bye, Daisy 1" He turned on the threshold and took my mother in his arms and kissed her forehead and her lips with a sudden fervar that transformed him. The pallid, careworn face flushed and smiled, the dull and sunken eyes brighten- ed. It was for a moment only. His valet warned him that there was no time to Ion; he stepped into the brougham, the door was shut, and he was gone. --a_ CHAPTER XXXII. DAISY'S DIARY. it is the eve of my weddina-day, ode eve of St. Valentine's day. Gilbert is to be my•valentine to -morrow; and forever. And now in this deep silence of after midnight I will close the record of my life as an unmarried woman. The life that will begin to -morrow will mark the opening of a new volume ire my history, but the old book shall be my friend and confidant still, for I shall be able to praise my hus- band in thesepages as I should never dare to praise him to any living listener, least of all to his modest, unpretending self. I shall close the record to my girlish years, and with it, I hope, closes the tragedy of my own and my mother's life. God grant that bloodshed and guilt and treachery may have no further influence upran her life and mine, and thee the road that lies before us may pass through a peaceful and smiling land, where crime and sin will have no part in our destiny. The interval between my ,step -father's' journey to Paris and the end of the year was e time of keenest anxiety for me'and for Gilbert, who shared and lightened all my cares. We watched the three principal Paris papers, which Gilbert ordered to be sent him daily, and watched with intense expectation tor any notice of the murderer, Morel. The actual facts recorded were few, ,beyond those: particulara of the murder which had appeared in the &et instance ; but there was a great deal of descriptive writing bearing more or less upon the crime. Something of this kind appeared in one or other of the papers nearly every day. Sometimes there was a paragraph about the prisoner's antecedents, the part he took in the riots and brutalities of the Commune, the manner of his escape when the Veritailled troops got possession of Paris, and many other Mete or fictions about his past life. Gilbert told me that I must not believe more than one fourth of any each article or paragraphs in a Parisian newspaper. One day there appeared a long account of the villa whioh was the SC0110 of the murder, an artiele in which the luxury and splendor a the house were minutely described. Another article in the mama paper gave a glowing daeoription of the prisoner's contrin, beautiful young Woman, married to ono of the richest men in Paris. Soandal about this young woman and her mother were freely published, cruel imputations against their character; but there wasnot one lino in any'of the papers which hinted at Claude Morel's identity with the murderer o t Denmark Street. • a EXETER:T. I "The police know all about him," said Gilbert, "bat they are keeping dark. A moo can not be tried for two crimes at the same time. Were Morel aoquitted he could be arrested and brought to London to be confronted with the witnessea—the land- lady and the tailor's journeyman—who (wild identify the murderer of Denmark Street ; but I do not see the remotest (Mame of his acquittal." My stepfather remained in Paris for nearly a month,during which time he wrote at least twice a week to my mother. She read poreions of hie letters to me. He had seen the peliee, and they tied told him that there was very little doubt of the prisoner's exeeutioe. The crime was too utterly brutal to enliet the sympAthielf of even a French jury. He would. be found guilty without extenuating oircumstances. He would perhaps appeal to the Court of Caseation, but his appeal would be rejected. In a later letter my step -father wrote ehat he had with great difficulty obtained an interview with the prisoner. He had taxed hint with the murder in Denmark Street, but Morel had deuied all kuowledge of that crime. The letter described him as an obaurate The trial took place in the second week in December. The prisoner's cousin, Mme. Perez, was the chief witness against him. She described how he had appealed to her for money, or for jewels to convert into money, two hours before the murder ; and how she had refused to give him either money or jewels, upon which he left the house angry and menacing. She described how she was startled from her sleep by the sound of footsteps in her room, and on opening her eyes saw the prisoner standing before -ter toilet -table, deliberately filling his pockets with her eeviels, which she had worn in great profusion upon that particular evening. She told the court how she had sprung from her bed, intending to ring for help, but before she could reach the electric bell the accused struck her to the ground. She remembered nothing after that blow, which had infliated a permanent injury upon the sight of one eye. She had only just recovered from a nervous fever which had followed upon her return to conscious- ness. The appearance of this witnese in the court excited a profound interest, said the papers. She is described as a very beautiful woman, Her evidence was given in eome parts reluctantly, at other times witli a rush of indignant feeling. When asked by the prisoner if she had. not been his mistress, she passionately repelled the ac- cusation. She admitted that she had once loved him, but that was before sheknew the worthlessness of his character. She spoke in the highest terms of the murdered Louise. She denied any knowledge of the fact that brother and sister had adopted names which were not their own. She had never heard the name of Morel in associa- tion with either of them. The evidence of the gendarme who arrest- ed tne mnrderer red-handed was conclusive. The blood of his victim and the jewels which he had stolen were found upon him. There was little need of deliberation. Tne verdict was guilty, without extenuating circumstances. The sentence was death. I can never forget my mother's face when Gilbert told her the doorn of Claude Morel. We went together to the morning -room where she was sitting at work, her great basket of flannel and calico on the hearth - rug in front of her chair, her pale, anxious face intent upon her stitching. In all this time of suspense she had employed herself chiefly in the.vieizing of the poor and work- ing for tbem. She told me that it was only by constant occupation,useful and mechan t - cal work, that she could steady her nerves, and prevent herself from dwelling incessant- ly upon the tragedy of her life. She listened quietly while Gilbert read the verdict and the sentence, and then, with bent head and clasped hands, she murmured those awful words which she had spoken to her husband when she first read of Morel's crime : " 'Vengeance is mine. I will repay,saith the Lord.'" How often and how often in the time past she must have repeated that terrible text ! She received a letter from her husband the same evening, bue it could tell her nothing that the paper had not told.her already, except that he intended to remain in Paris for a few days to see if there were any likelihood of a commutation of the sen tence. Five days afterward my step -father walked into the drawing -room at nine o'clook in the evening, theannounced and unexpected. Be had Coma from Paris by the morning mail. "I waited till the evo of the execution, Clara," he said, when my mother had welcomed him. Gilbert and I were sitting at chess in a nook by the fire -place. We stood up to greet him, but keen aloof, as if he had been a stranger. "It is decided, then ? There will he no reprieve ?" said my mother. =';here will be at least one villain less in the world," said I. He looked at me. Never to my dying day can I forget the agonized reproachful- ness of that look. It was a look that made me feel as if I were the ingrate and the traitor, and he only the injured. I saw the picture of my happy), childhood—as they say a drowning man seem all his past life in the moment .before death. I 38.34 myself with my arms round that man's neck and my cheek against his breast.; saw myself soothed and watched over in hours of childish illness ; taught and counseled and amused and trained by that keen intelleot ; loved and petted, with an inexhaustible patience and an unvarying tenderness, by that grave student for whom all the world of thought was an open bookO How often, how continually, day after day, had he laid aside his dearest occupa- tion to devote himself to the education and amusement of a child ! Yes, he had done all this ' • he had sacrificed his incline- tinns, he hadmade himself a slave for my mother's sake and to win her he had plotted my fajher's death. My eyelids fell and my heart beat fast beneath that mute reproach; but for me his crime was an unpardonable crime. I dared not pity him, even in his agony of remorse ; for such pity would have been treachery to my dear father, My mother urged him to take some re- freshment after his journey, and gave her orders to the butler to that end, but he deolared that he had dined in London. "You must have had some time in town between ehe arrival of the Paris train and the departure of the 7;50 from Paddington?" said my mother. "Yes ; I had nearly two hours ; time enough to dine and to tranettot a little burliness in the fifty." "In the oity ? Bat all the offices would be olosed at that time ?" "Not the office I wanted," He was looking *ery ill, And had grown hinner in the few weeks of absence. / nw my mother obaerving him anxiously as Children Cu for Pitther's Castolin) he sat in front of the fire, warming hie wasted hands, before the burning loge. fie talked with some show of cheerfulness, asked about, the preparations for the mar- riage arid for Christinee, Wes it to be a gay Chriatunta at 'River Lawn ? "Gay ?" echoed mother t "how could. I think of gayety at ouch tato? My thoughts have been fixed upon one Subject. Every ellert of my mind has beau nob to ehiek too perpetually of the matt who is to die to -morrow. " Of the man who is to die to.rhorrow," he repeated, solemnly. ' "Death cancels all wrong-doing—at least the leer thinks 85, The wool, Mutt you cam do to a murderer ia to kill him." He rose slowly and moved about the rooin in his obi restless way, and then came over to my mother and beet over her and kissed bete "Don't sit up for me, Clara," he said ; I have letters to write, proofs to look over, the accumulations of a month. I have sent .Ames over to the cottage with iny dispatoba box. I shall sit there very le,te, moat likely." " No to -night, Ambrose, surely not to- night 1 There will be plenty of titne to. morrow," remoiastrated mother. "No, I have left everything to the last. There will be no time to -morrow. Good- night, dear love 1" Be nodded to Gilbert and me, a cool, ourt nod, and was gone before my mother coull remonstrate further. "How pale and haggard he looks 1" she said. " I was wrong 0.0 let him go to Paris upon such painful business, in his weak health. What would Sir Andrew say to me if he knew how his aelviee had been disregarded 7" "Sir Andrew recommended rest, I suppose ?" eaid Gilbert. He told my husband that it was essential for him to take life quietly." Ah doctors tell us that but will the heart and brain cease from troubling at a physician's bidding ?" My mother sighed and sunk into melees choly ailence, and our gains went on slowly, quietly, in the silent room, where there was no sound but the light fall of wood ashes on the hearth. _ My mother came to me at seven o'clock next lemming and told me that her husband had been at work all night. She had watch- ed his lamp from her bedroorn window, being herself too agitated to sleep, or even to lie down for more than half an hour at a time. The lamp had been burning till day- break, when she saw it extinguished. I lefue had watched that lamp, wondering what the guilty soul was suffering in that long night—whether he wished himself in the condemned cell where that vulgar villain was waiting the dawn of his laat day, whether he would have Welcomed the knife as a short, sharp cure for ehe pangs of a guilty conscience. My step -father had never before spenb a whole night at the cottage, and indeed had seldom occupied himself in his library of an evening. This unaccustomed night -watch made my mother uneasy, and she asked me to go aeroea the road with her, to seeif there were anything amiss. "He may have fallen asleep at his desk," she said, "and in a cold room; for I dare- aay he has not been careful to keep the fire burning all night." He had dismissed his valet when he went over to the cottage, and was alone there, except for the existence of an elderly woman who lived in tbe back premises, cleaned and aired the rooms, and made fires. We went aerates the road together, mother and I, in the bleak winter morning. The sky was red above the leafless elm -tops toward London, but gray and gloomy in every ether direction. The neglected garden, and the cottage itself, looked very dull and dreary in the chilly dawn, the aodden creepers hanging from the walls, the plaster blotted with damp. " What a dismal house 1 To think that Ambrose and his son lived in it for over so many years," murmured my mother. She had only to turn the handle of the door to go in—shore was no bolt or lock to shut us out. I followed her into the dark passage, and into the room on the right of the porch, the room whioh my step -father called his den, a room lined with books from floor to ceiling. " Yes," whispered my mother, "he has fallen aseep." The atmosphere was close and hot, and reeked with ehe odor of lamp oil. A pair of candles had burned down to the sockets, and the ashes were gray in the grate. My steinfather'a head had fallen upon his folded arms, and upon the table in front of him there was a long official envelope, directed in a large, firm hand—" For my wife." I read the words acmes my mother's sh ulder as she bent down to speak to her husband, and I guessed what dreadful thing had happened, and what new horror she would have to bear. "Come away, mother, come away 1" I cried. "He is dead 1 1 know he es dead 1" She bent over him still, and lifted the heavy head, and looked at the ashen countenance. Yes, it was the end. Death cancels every wrong. Ambrose Arden's words of the night before came back to me as we stood there in that awful silence which his voice could never break again. Vain now all hope of keeping the truth from"' my mother. That envelope, no doubt, contained the admission of his guilt. She would know, and she would suffer from that knowledge. She burst into tears as she hung over the lifeless clay. "1 Oh, Daisy," she sobbed, "he has gone from us forever 1 Our voices can not reach him now. I was never half grateful enough for his love or his goodness to me." "'A:one-eve ea: for infanta "014storia les* vetl, 4dapted to childrentbikt 1 recommend it as !superior to ano precoription known to me," H. A. Anomnt, 111 So, Oxford8t., Brooklyn, N. Y. "The use of ' Castorla ' is so universal and its merits so welllmown that it seenatia work of supererogation to endorse it. Few aretbe intelligent families who do not keep Castor* within easy reach." CAnaos MARTI% D.D., New or City, Late Pastor Bloomingdale Reformed Church, nd Children. IDastoria cures Cone, Conattpet!08 Sour Stomach, Diarrhcea. Eructed Elba Wonns, gives gawp, tend promo gestion, Witheut injurious medicattoa. 'For several years 1 have reeomitimilled your' Castoria, 'and shall 3.1vraya continue te to so as Lt has invarialey produced beinedielal restate." Epwor F. Penrent, M. "The 'Winthrop," 125th Street gad rith emese New 'York Clit;y. TaS3 03NT.ing COMPANY, 77 37(vocusx Suotrar, ITzw. Yalu, eteee e I1: enee •:eeee 4 , "Don't lament him, mother ; he was not worthy," I said ; but my tears were etreeening too, and I saw the dead man as he seemed to me in my childhood, before my father's death, before he had begun to plot murder. We knew before that day was ended that he died from an overdose of chloral. He had had strength of will and purpose to throw the empty bottle under the grate, where it was found broken among the cinders. Thua it was that mother and I did not suspect a suicide when ws found him cold and lifeless at his desk. She has not told me the contents of the package, but I know from her manner that she has nothing more to learn about father's death, al bei t Claud e Morel died withont h avs ing made any ad missiou of his guilt. She has been full of sadness since her husband's funeral, in spite of her brave attempt to sympathize with Gilbert aud me. The wedding has been delayed for nearly two months in deference to my step -father's memory and the bieneweences, The coroner's inquest resulted in a verdict of "Death by misadventure." (To BE CONTINUED.) - — FOR RESCUING AMERICAN SAILORS. Geld Veateihes and Medals Awarded to Foreign Mariners for Heroic ServIces. The United States Government has shown its appreciation of the services of foreign mariners in rescuing American sailors from danger of death at sea, by for- wardiog a gold watch aud chain to Capt. H. E. Thuestad of the Norwegian bark Chrysolite, in recognition of his heroio services in rescuing the officers and orew of the American ship Titan, Oct. 9, 1894,; a gold watch and chain to Capt. George Keller of the German steamship Brilliant, for heroic services in rescuing the officers and crew of the American schooner Willie - mine, Nov. 26, 1694 ; a gold medal to J. Seidenburg, second officer, and M. Strath. mann, boatswain, of the German steamship Brilliant, for the same service ; a silver medal to H. Cohrs, H., Brown, and H. Marshall of the Bri.liant ; gold medals to J. H. Orton, fourth officer, and W. Fitz- patrick, quartermaster, and a silver medal to I. Seed, boatswain's mate. Silver medals were also sent to D. Jones, L. McLaughlin, and Albert Hawley Di the British steamshipTeutonic, for gallant and heroic eflorta to rescue the master and orew of elm American schoon er Josie Reeves, Feb. 8, 1895 ; marine glasses to Capt. W. Thompson,of the British steamship Dur- ham City,for human e services in rescuing tbe officers and crew of the American schooner Alice T. Boardman, Oct. 6, 1894, and to Capt. Thomas Caspereon of the Norwegian bark Johnanne, Per his humane aervioes In effecting the rescue of two sea- men of the American schooner Henry M. Stanley, July 6, 1894. The awards will be distributed through the State Department. Infants in France. It is not generally known that in Frame it is forbidden, under severe penalties, for any one to give infants under 1 year any form of olid food, unless such be ordered by written perseription, signed by a legally qualified medical man. Nurses are also forbidden to use, in the rearing of infants confided to theft' care, at any time or under any pretext whatever, any nursing bottle provided with a ruleber tube. Several other similar and equally stringent laws have recently been enacted by the Frclich Government, which, despairing of obtain- ing any inereasa in the birth-rate in their land, is now turning its attention to the saving of the few children that are born. Something to Think About. Mrs. Gabley—What do you think of the new woman? Mrs. Planid—Nothing : I'm bothered enough about the old man. The City Council of Hamilton has fixed the rate of taxation at 20 mills. itos !SA PICTURE Of' THE. rAmous cpag FOR 801010 PAINS, FOR BACKACHE RHEUMATISM LUMBAGO NEURALGIA EACH IN AIR TIGHT TIN BOX 11 NTHOI. CARTEKS EfTLE IVER PILLS. UR Sick Headache and relieve all the trembles incl. dent to a bilious state of the system, anal a1 Dizziness, Nausea. Drowsiness, Distress aft* eating, Pain in the Side, 8te. While theirmast remarkable success has been shown in curing S I C Headache, yet CARTER'S Ln -n. Levee Teets are equally valuable in Constipation, curing and preventing this annoying complaint, while they also correct all disorders of the stomaeh, stimulate the liver and regulate the bowels. Even if they only cured EA Ache they -Would be almost priceless to Mon who suffer from this distressing complaint: but fortunately their goodness does isot end here, and those who once try them will find these little pills valuable in so many ways that they will not be willing to do without tJaom. But after all sick head Is tbe bane of so many lives that bare Is where we make our great "boast. Our pills cure it while others do not. 0A=33'3 Lrrrus Lrvra Pius ans very small and very easy to take. Ono or two pillS malts a dose. They are strictly vegetable and dn not gripe or purge, but by their gentle stetien please all wile use them. In vials at 25 cents: llve for 51. Sold everywhere, or sent by sesiL OABISIB ItEMOINI1 00., ltswDirk Piit Sal Post Imall INFLUENZA EPIDEMIC. The DESCRES IWO Lingers en London -Lord lioseitery's Itecovery-Pronalueut Sue reran,. A despatch from London sari—Influenza still lingers here, although the weather is mild, and the death rate has touched 41.2 per thousand,one of the highest points ever known in this city, where the average death rate is only about 19 per thousand. Lord Rosebery has entirely recovered, and is spending a few days et the Darden% his seat near Epsom. Evan that plane the Premier will go to Deal, the well-known ifea bathing resort on the coast of Kent. Baroness Burdett•Coutts, Mr. Henry Fow- ler, the Secretery of State for India ; and Rustem Pasha, the Turkish Ambastador to Great Britain, wl.o have bean suffering from influenza, are improving in health. Among the latest additions to the list of diatingnished sufferers of the epidemic are the Earl of Pembroke end Montgomery feed Sir Douglas Galton, the distinguished en- gineer, formerly inspector of railways and assistant inspector -general of fortifications' The governing bed)/ of Treaty College School 1185 deoide 1 to rebuild on tho present site. THE SECRET Of the marvelous success of Burdock Blood Bitters lies in its specific curative power over every organ of the body. The Liver, the Blood, the Bowels, the Stomach, the Kidneys, the Skin, the Bladder, in fact, all parts of the human system are regulated, purified, and restored to perfect natural action by this medicine. Thus it CURES all diseases affecting these or other parts of the system, Dyspepsia, Constipa., tion, Bad Blood, Biliousness, Flea.d. ache, Kidney and Liver Complaint, Obstinate Humors, Old Sores, Scrofula, Rheumatism, Nervous or General Debility, and all irregularities of the system, caused by Bad Blood or dis. ordered action of the Stomach, Bowels, Liver or Kidneys. Thousands of tesa, monials warrant the assertion that B.B.B. is the BEST SPRG MEDICINE FOR YOUNG tli-1 OLD