HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1892-12-2, Page 22
BEYOND RECALL
CHAPTER XVII,
IK DIRK PEnPLExr'PS".
When I first heard from old Bootees lips
that my wife was unfaithful—tnatshe and
the man who preformed to be my frienlbad
combined together to cast ale, an innocent
man, into prison for ever, in order that they
Might live together without reproach under
the cloak of a bigamous narrlago-1 could
not believe it. It was too terrible to be
true. It was one of those hideotts jokes
whish convicts play upon one another .to
ggrattly their brutalised sense of hour or.
Who fiendish look on the old'man's fece,0as
he leered sidelong at one to mark the effect
his information made, supported; the sus-
picion, Ho could not bo in earnest: that
most have been my impression. 1 eau find
no other exouso for not strangling the n retch
while the words were fresh upon his lips,"
"MIx your whitewash," ho whispered,
seeing that my attitude was likely to ltttract
the attention of the warder,
I obeyed instinctively, stupefaction suc-
ceeding my Seat feeling of incredulity.
Ae I stirred the stud' iu the buokethe pro -
needed with his border, using the brush
delicately, and his heal on one side as if
he were engrossed in the work ; he centime -
ed to speak in a low, expressionless tone
that contrasted oddly with his emphatic
words
"I suspected how matters stood at the
trial. I said to myself ; if that major is
not a fool, hes the greatest villain that ever
disgraced the service. Those men aro not
over acrupulons where a common fellow is
0000erued; still less when there's a pretty
woman in the case. Divorce case reports
shove that. After the trial I was sure he
meant to get rid of you. Wanted to per-
suade me to tell the whole truth in my
memorial to the home Secretary. Showed
him as clear as day that such acourse would
get you life for a oortainty. When lee said
that if I didn't tell all 1 knew he should, I
knew be was not a fool, but a heartless, de-
signing villain. Every man I have spoken
to on the subjeet coincides with me. Why,
one need not have more intelligence than a
ploughboy to see that with such a statement
as that before him, tho Home Secretary had
no option but to pass the most severs nen•
tense, short of death, upon you. Get on
with your whitewashing."
I began my border as well as my tremb-
ling hands would let me, while he, stirring
the limo in his bucket, continued—
"I went down to Brighton and ssw your
wife. I told her what the result would be
if the major persisted in the course he had
threatened."
What did she say?" 1 gasped.
" Oh, she played her part web; almost
deceived:me. Feigned to be torn between
conflicting doubts. When I hinted at un-
sornpulous dealing ou the part of her friend
said she could trout him with her life."
I remembered that she had used the same
words to me.
" She said she knew he would do nothing
without consulting her, and promised to
prevent him from going further. Do you
hoar: she promised to prevent his sending
you to prison for life. Your fate was in
her hands from that moment. You stood
to be saved with a word she could destroy
you—get rid of you for ever. Have ago at
the pail."
The sweat of a new agony dropped from
my face into the bucket as I bent over it,
Boston, slowly drawing his brush down the
wall, eon tiuued—
"How she kept her promise you know.
The day after our interview I received a
letter from her saying that she had entrusted
the further conduct of your case to the hands
of Major Cleveden, who would discharge
allobligatioos for the service I had rendered.
I thought I saw how matters stood with her
—thought 1 knew all ; I didn't ]wow half.
A. woman's a match for all the cunning on
the old Bailey. Go further off; the ward-
.er's coming down."
1 did as he bade me, but with eager im-
-patience to draw near and hear more. Was
I a villain to lend so ready an ear to the
.defamation of the woman 1 profess to have
loved 7 Likely enough I had herded long
.enough with villains to be infested with
their vices. I have known men, without
that excuse, who have lost all manly self.
control when jealousy maddened them with
its venomous fang.
"I thought she was Innocent, at any
rate," recommenced Boston when we again
got within whispering distance. "Put et
this way ; there are stories a ninat me, the
major has learnt 'em ; has told theirl I am
not to be trusted ; made a plausible repro•
sentation that no harm can come of telling the
truth, and so persuaded her against my bet-
ter counsel. In his eyes the honor of this
rich family is of mach more value than the
life of a poor beggar who can't earn salt. If
he comes out tainted with twenty years of
penal, servitude, no better than the black-
guards he's been coupled to, he will blast this
girl's future, estrange her from her family,
degrade her for ever in the opinion of
society. He may not live twenty years,
this poor wretoh : hang himself, or go mad
very likely ; at any rate, he can't last mush
over the twenty years, which is the least he
can got. Then why for o, few years of lib-
erty, which he is most likely to abuse,
should he for ever ruin this young woman
and her family? That's how I put ft : the
best 1 could for both of them before I knew
all. Keep on : the warder's looking,"
"What are you about 7" asked the war-
der, coming up, "You're loyin' it on an
inch thick here, and look at the meas you've
made on the floor, This ain't like you.
What's the matter—feel a bit queer?" he
asked kindly, catching sight of my face.
" 1 felt a little upset just now, sir," I
replied. "It's the smell of the lime, per.
baps."
' You can knock off if yon like "
"No," amid I, quintet.,, fearing to lose
the opportunity of hearing more, with the
mad craving of a man for the poison that
he knows must frenzy him.
"Shall I give him a hand, sir, when I've
done this bit 2" asked Beeton,
The warrior nodded and moved on. These
men frequently wink ab transgreesion of
rules by men who give no trouble, and I
was the model convict of the prison.
It was possible now for Beeton to com-
municate with me moro freely.
" That's hew I regarded thorn," he went
on, leniently ; " and when the major paid
my bill I made no reference to the past,
and resolved to let the matter drop. 1 had
dons the best I could for you, and got my
money for it, But throe weeks afterwards
I learnt by accident that Major Cleveden
and " Moss Hehe Thane' had been married
at Brighton. Then I saw that they had
done me thoroughly with their pretense of
boneety and compassion : that from the
fleet they had sohomed to turn an accident
to their own advantage, and had cunningly
contrived to get you buried in here, where
700 were powerless foe .evermore to toads
them. That nettled one, 1 (Met like to be
done, 1 bad never suspected the pnoeibil•
ity of their boing lovers, or I should lens
seen through Gro whole thing from the
THE . B U8SELs POST,
beginning, Yon gave me no hint. I sip•
pose they kept you iu the dark, too—de-
soivetl and hoodwinked you as they did me.
You never had any suspicion of anything
of this eort."
I remembered vividly how the nepicion
had pressed my mind nt the very moment I
heard the major's name mentioned by my
wife, Why had I suspected': To my dis-
ordered reason it appeared that something
in the tone of her vole° inust have betrayed
a secret feeling for him.
Beaton repeated the question, observing
my silence. I shoot lay head.
"I'm glad you didn't," he muttered.
"Shouldn't like to think 1 was the only
man that clever young woman had deceived
I smart now when I think of it; it's a re•
flection ou my sagacity, I smarted still
more keenly then ; however, I resolved
to be paid for it. I wrote to the major,
and told him I should feel it my duty,
as your late adviser and an honest man"
—the old fellow said this with a sardonic
grin—" to proclaim his late marriage
with a young lady calling herself ' Hobo
Thane' bigamous, unless he could give
ane a satisfactory explanation. The mean -
lag of that hint was clear enough : u
satisfactory explanation was a good round
soon down as hash money. Its no good
pleading innocence here. I'm in for embezzle-
ment, and if I had not been a sharp ou0 I
should have been here ages ago. Well, the
major's answer to that letter was not satis-
factory, He told me I was et liberty to
take nay legal proceedings on your behalf
,hat I should find justified by a record of
?otr marriage ; but that if I ventured to
take proceedings of any other sort, the only
satisfaction I should be likely to got would
be a thrashing. That didn't allay my ir-
ritation. Off 1 went to Somerset Hoose at
once to overhaul the register of marriages.
And there to my mortal chagrin, I found
no record of marriage between any in•
dividnale bearing your name or here. Then
I perceived that you were not married."
He paused and glanced at me keenly,
" Or," he continued rightly, drawing his
conclusion from the expression of myface—
"or that you had been married before a
register under other uamee, to escape the
possibiliby of your marriage being discovered
by her friends, That is the ease ?"
I made no reply.
" Of course such a marriage, although
subjecting you to punishment, is perfectly
binding." He paused again tempting me to
confirm his conclusion.
" Were they married—that is the queer
tion 7"I asked struggling for breath to form
the words.
"No doubt about that. There are their
lames in the register at Somerset House
or any man to see—unless," be added,
lith malicious significance, "he is shut rip
In a prison. Who knew of your marriage?
Who were the wituesses?"
I shook my head vaguely, and with an
impatient gesture.
T understand," he murmured, chuck-
ling, " I've done it myself in my young
days when I was a registrar's clerk, and
more than ono guinea 1 ve got by it. You
went to the office and told the clerk your
position frankly. He told you what to do
and found the witnesses, "
He had divined the truth exactly, but
that was nothing to me then.
"I can't bear this any longer," 1mutter-
ed,hoarsely. "Tell me all, and be done
with it. "
" She knew all about it. She knew
that the only one who could betray the
seoret was this clerk, who could not
speak without betraying himself, which
he was not likely to do. And you
may bo sura she convinced the major of
his safety before he tools moll a plunge as
that. I was too mad to sea that they were
more onnning than L I went to their house
and saw the major personally. The villain
drew the out with lois cool, impassive man-
ner. He led me on to state the very sum I
required as the price of eeorecy, and thou—"
the old convict paused as lie drew his brush
on the edge of the pail and added—"then
he committed a broach of the peace, and
laid h tunse)f open to on action for assaglt and
battery, which he knew it would have ruin.
ed me to have brought against him."
"She married him—aro—Hebe?" was all
I could get out.
"How else could they live together, and
keep up a decent pretense to respectability,
you fool? You'd have !mown it four years
ago if you hadn't sent my letters back."
Our conversation was not connected and
continuous as I have written it, but frag-
jmentary, and broken up by the necessity of
eluding the warder's vigilance. As the bell
rang for cessation of work, Beeton conolud•
ltd hurriedly, as we cleaned our brushes side
by side—
,
Gave
ide—"I've more to tell you. I'll get into
your gang before long, and we'll con -
trove means to pay then out. Keep
quiet. Let no one guess what you know.
We'll be revenged on 'em : you nn thab
devil your wife ; I on that cunning scoun-
drel the major. Oh, we shall cry quits
before long I "
CHAPTER XVIII.
Tuoo AWFUL lama,
From the time the iron door closed upon
me till daybreak, I walked ceasolesely up
and down my aoll, like a caged beast wait•
ing for its food, A craving for vengeance
possessed me, suggesting a hundred wildly
inrpoesible schemes of retaliation to my im-
agination. With a fierce, brutal pleasure I
gloated on each mad project for crushing
the woman I had loved. I felt that in
1 some way I mast visit upon my wife the In.
jury she had inflicted upon me—ealllug even
upon the pekoe of God to put the means
into my hand. At length physioai exhaus•
tion compelled me to rest. Again and
again I had drunk from my pitcher to as-
suage the burning thirst that seemed to be
consuming my very vitals, but my food was
untouched where the warder had left it
against the door.
I ant down on rho stool, and stared eta•
pirlly at the grey patch of light that mark-
ed tine doming day, my mind succumbing,
like my body to fatigue. I was powerless,
even in imagination, to do her farther harm.
As passion seek Into a state of lethargy,
1 reason awoke. The light grew not only on
my oyes, it reached my sent, and opened it
with tender touch to the reception of better
feelings, She herself, my Hobe, floated in
with the first ray of sunshine, and stood be-
fore me with that ever•remenbered look of
love and sorrowing reproach in her deep,
aoft oyes.
"Wlmy have I listened greedily to a fiend
and defied my heart to this angel?" I askec{
myself, "Whet evidence was there of this
dear womans treachery and falsehood but
the word of one bad man ? By his own
showing that man was a rascal; by every
act and look and word, my wife clad proved
herself a human angel."
"But sho 10 human," eeiggosted rho
lurking demon in my heart, "Human
and weal., or sho Would not have
taken Diet false stop that toads hor your
wife. Is elle to bo more thou human under
a blow that makes yon loss that a man 7
Supposing there is some famndatiou for this
story --ay, supposing oven that every word
is tree that came from that old rasoal's tips
what then ? Has your wife done anything
which you yourself would not have permit-
ted as some ailglit alleviation of the noieery
you have brought upon her? If she could
strike away the fetter that binds her to you,
would you prevent it ?'duet she livo for-
ever in solitude because sho loved you for is
yyear? Aro you not morally doatl 1 is she a
Paean ilial she should sacrifice her life on
your tomb'? Is the law mornustthat !mites
het. a widow tea that which Mules you
here? la site not morally justified in ao•
ceptingg the love and companionship of the
man who knows her secret 1 Have you not
wished her to forgot you—to think of you
as gone for ever from hoz. world ? Have you
not prayed for her happiness? 1Vas that
prayer a bio, offered by a hypocrite 7 What
is there in you to love? Why should she
not love another and forget you 1"
I could go no further. illy clinging heart
revolted against such reasoning.
"0h, uo, no, no I" I cried, wringing my
bands in agony. '• You have not forgotten
one, darling 1 You love me still I I am not
dead to you I"
The hope was almost conviction, and it
seemed tome now impossible that she could
changes( gniukly; still more that she could
connive at my lifelong imprisonment to
avoid any calamity that might attend my
release, No, not to procure the best the
world could give would ells prolong my
misery by an hour. To think that sho could
be selfish and oruel was like breaking doss n
a lovely statue of liberty. Oh, if 1 could
still believe her pure, and die in that belief I
Why should not 1? Why should Ititink
again of what Beeton had said? It would
bo easy enough to avoid another word from
his vile tongue. Why should I trouble to
consider whether leo had told the truth or
lied? But to live in enforced ignorance of
the truth implied doubt. That in itself was
a reflection on my wife's honesty. In
juebice to her I must ascertain all. Surely
if I loved her—if sem was worthy of being
loved—I ought not to fear the test. 1
must cut away the very ground that
suspicion rusts on, in justice to her. Con-
seienae told no this was the course 1 ought
to take. I felt a better man when I came
to that conclusion, Suddenly a menus of
learning the truth occurred to me, and I de-
termined to use it.
I put down my name to see the governor
before going out to work. At dinner•tinoe
he came to me,
' Well, my man, what is it 7" he asked,
in his short, bluff way, " Want to go on the
siok list?"
No, sir ; It ien'b that,"
He raised his brows.
" You look like it," said he. " Graves
told me you were takes queer yesterday
afternoon, and you've eaten nothing—walk-
ed ' groggy'—no wonder."
" I've been breaking the rules—" 1 be.
gen,
' Oh 1 do you want aro to punish you,
eh 7"
" No, sir ; I'm punished enough. I
want you to look over the fault, for I have
to ask a favor arising out of it,"
" What's the fault 7 Out with it."
Talking to a prisoner, sir. I've heard bad
news from outside ; that's what upset one,
and I feel I shan't be right again till I
know the truth."
" Your inventions, I suppose. I don't
think I did well to Ietyoo go so far."
"I wish with alt my heart it was nothing
but that. I—I—it's aboat a personal friend
outside—a dear friend. I must know that
We a lie—ell that I hoard—before I oan go
on in the old way; if you would allow me
to see a visitor who could tell me the whole
trubh."
" Oh, certainly I Better see your friend
at once and get the doubt off your mind,
You may write immediately, and receive a
visit on Wednesday."
I thanked the governor, and wrote at
once to Mr. Lonsdale, begging him to cone
and see mo on Wednesday, and keep Ions
visit a secret from every one.
Then followed three days and nights of
terrible suspense. I had not the moral
strength to close doubt from my mind. The
effort to believe what I hoped shook my
faith. I would not admit that Hello could
be false, yet the unacknowledged possibility
of deception was ever present to my mind.
It was like striving to continue a dream in
which the lost darling leas been restored to
the empby heart against the growing sense
of reality; the dreadful conviction that
tho image is but a shade, and that all is
lost forever, Oh I how 1 slung to that beau.
fulimage of apure and faithful wife! "God
help nae if I lose this!" was the cry that
came up from my heart,
I quaked with fear when I hoard that the
vicar was waiting to see me. At the last
moment I would have refused to see him,
had I dared to trust in ignorance.
" Why, this is not young Wyndham,
surely 7" said Mr. Lonsdale, under his
breath,whei I was brought face to face with
him. I was too agitated to speak.
"They say hada looks as he feels," said
the stout warder, cheerfully ; " and a man
doesn'b fool young long in here if he's got
what you may gall a °ensciemic on hint,'
"Do you know me, my friend 1" asked
the vioar, with a tone of incredulity in his
voice,
" Yes, Mr, Lonsdale."
" The very voioe is altered quite out of
recognition,' he murmured. The eboolt
seemed to be more than he could over -
dime.
"He's one of our best men," said the
warder, seeing that we were bath at a loss
for words, "A good man don't talk, and
he never sings or the litre of that ; so if he's
aheerinl and lively before, he's more likely
to change; his veto gots raspy and dry
like; same as my keys would grow rusty if
they was hung up and never used."
"You don't see much change ie mo, my
poor fellow I" asked Mr., Lonsdale, with a
pitying tremulousness,
"No sir.
"There you are ; that's what I say," pub
in the warder, conclusively, addressing the
vicar with the cheerfulneee of a man who
feels nothiog beyond pride in the juet'loe of
hie own conclusion. 'You are a gentle.
man, I daresay, who lives a quiet, nappy
life, one year as comfortable as another ; a
nine happy home and friends abonb you ;
good food and plenty of it; nothing to for.
get, nothing to fret about, nothing to with
for as you cannot over hope to get,
Ho stopped suddenly; and with a dry
cough went to the end of the room and seat.
ed himself, I dared not ranee my head to
see what was the matter. I knew, It le
terrible to see others overcome with com-
passion and grief for your own misfortunes,
Presently the vicar broke the silonoo by
blowing his nose ; f,hen he said, hoiekily—.
I cant told you hew pleased 1 wee to
got your letter ; how glad to come here and
see you. It was grievous to think you never
Pavy a friend."
" You know my reasons, sir 2"
"Yee, your chaplain wee good enough to
make clear to me when I tale &bout e, year
DEC. 2, 1892,
ago with the loops of seeing you, He jueti• ,
fed the college you had taken, always of
oonree hoping that time would render your
separation from tie too longer a necessity, 1
loops that change has come, and that now
yon will bo able to sea us from time to time,
and fad cone sorb of pleaeure in thinking
abonbnsl,
"I don't know," said I ; "1 au not sure.
A slangs luta come over one lately that has
made me hope for a revival of that which I
thought insist bo loaded for ever. Perhaps
I ant wrong ; perhaps it would have been
hotter for oto to keep the resolution 1 have
hold so long, That saved mo from madness.
I don't know whet may happen now. For
that rerun I begged you to say nothing
about our mooting to any sho, Until I ala
quite aura of myself, I should like it to be
kept com•et•"
"What is it you foar, my dear friend 7"
"I cannot toll you. I stn thinking about
lay wife,"
"Yon need tell me no more. 1 promise
yet that not a word of !nine, directly or
indirectly, ebait betray that we have oioet."
"Thank you, sir," said 1, wiping the
sweat from my temples.
"Mrs. Lonsdale is staying with friends at
Scarborough ; else does not know that I
have received a letter from you, Even she
shall know nothing of this sleeting ; though
of course, she would say nothing aout it if
sho knew your feeling in the matter. And
now tell me what I can do for you."
"Toll me, efr," said I, shaking in every
limb—"tel( me about the people I knew
once. What has happened to them sumo
then ?"
To bo sure—to be sure," said the old
gentleman ;and then collecting his thoughts
he continued : "James Phillips has gone
away with his wife and family. He couldn't
make presses in the way you and your father
did, and the trade dwindled down to nota•
hog ; and now Thomas Boyce has the hoose,
and is trying to make a business by contain-
ing house decorating and plumbing. You'd
hardly know the old place, it is so altered,
There's a workfngmat's club whore the
Barley Mow stood, and they're making a
bridge over the river by the ferry for the
new railway," Ho continued to bell of the
°loanges that had been made, but I heard
nothing intelligible, though listeriog only
for ono name.
"And lir. Thane," I said, when he paus-
ed ; does be still live at Ham ?"
"Ah, of course—Mr, Thane," replied the
vicar, evidently turning his thoughts in a
direction they had nob lately taken. " He
never 'vent back to that house. Indeed, I
think he has quite abandoned the idea of
making what is called an establishment.
I heard fiat he passes his tone in London
and Brighton, resuming there the in-
dependent bachelor life 'he previously
led in India, Doubtless ib is more
in accordance with hie tastes. It is late
at his time of life to change one's habite,
and, of course, there was not that motive
for keeping up alarge house with oarriages,
servants and that sort of thing: when his
daughter married."
"11Married I" I echoed, hoarsely.
"Ah, to be sure, that's news for you. It
was after that dreadful affair that the mar-
riage took place. Very soon after, too, I
recolleot. Or was it before, Kit?"
" Not betaro—not before," I muttered,
with a secret terror lest that ono sweet
image of faith and tenderness should l,e
beaten down and effaced by the discovery
that she was already married when she
knelt beside me, professing devotion and
love, in our host moeting.
"No ; now I come to think of it it must
have been afterwards, For I remember pay-
ing them a visit just before they went away
to Germany at the hig:hotol—what was the
name of that hotel, just by Apsley House,
but ou the opposite side of the way?"
Icould not speak. With mykhand0l
made a gesture of impatience which -he fail-
ed to see, for he was looking down, and
drawing his chin between his thumb and
finger in the attempt bo recollect,
"However, that doesn't matter. I re-
member quite distinctly though sho was
dressed in deep blue velvet, and beautiful
she Iooked, to he sure, in it ; yet not quite
as you must remember her when we used
to come and look at your work --not so girl-
ish and gay. That was hardly to be expect-
ed. It is all coming back to ono now. After
lunch the major left us, and we satover the
fire together. 1 remember we talked about
yon, my poor fellow. She spoke very feel-
ingly of your misfortune, and told me hove
she had tried to eco you at Pentonuille, end
had written letters to you to express her
sympathy. You know she always took a
great interest in you—•more than you inag-
me, I daresay. She asked me if I would
write to you and overcome your repugnance
to communicating with your reel friends—
those who were so distressed on your old
count. ' Tell him to think of his poor wife,'
she said. Those words dwelt in my mind.;
they were spoken with suoh true pathos."
" Devil of hypocrisy I" I said to,myeelf,
grinding my teeth with rising fury.
",The major also—I told you 'she was
married to Major Cleveden, or did I not?"
"Yes, yes," I said.
" He also spoke most kindly about you,
tellingj?tne how he had tried to obtain an
interview with you in the hops of giving
you consolation, regretting his inability to
do anything.,,further in your behalf."
I startled the vicar—the warder morepor
haps—by a smoked laugh,
' Go on, go on—this amuses one," I said
through my teeth.
"Ian glad of that, my friend. Unfree,
tnuately I have very little more to tell you,
They have lived abroad best part of the
time; in faob, it wee only last aubnmn that
they same back to England ; and now they
are living near Sevenoaks in Kent. They
gave Mrs, Lonsdale mistime a Most pressing
mvibation to go there at Christmas, and
Hobe—I mean Mrs. Cleveden—wrote again
about two mouton's ago to pay her a visit,
By-tloo•by, she has nob forgotten you, Kit.
In a postscript she asked if I had heard any-
thing of you. Silo was always ea thought
ful and kind."
Again I laughed ; then I waved my hand
for him to continue.
The question was not likely to raise his
suspicion, for supposing that my wife was
aservan tin the Thane's household, it was
but natural I should wish to hoar of its eon.
dittos,
'•To tell you the tenth, 1 could not ac•
opt the invitation. In thefirabplace, Mee,
Lonsdale was indisposed to go, and tho
second time, as she was not Invited, 1—I—
well, you know, Mrs. Lonsdale cannot en-
dure being lefbalone."
"Why did not she go ?" 1 naked, harshly,
the truth glimmering upon mo,
1i To speak candidly, Kit," said the old
oleo, after a moment n hesitation, with its
finger on his lip—"tospeak oandldly, I fear
Mrs. Lonsdale has ceased to like Gnat dear
ggiro, 1 cannot for the life of me tell why,
foo Afro, Lonsdale is not a capricious wom-
an, but else seems to have taken an unac-
countable
nac-costable prejudice against Hobe ever eine°
her marriage. Possibly she objoste to mar•
riages in which there is doh a discrepancy
of ago, I know she seemed horrified and
disgusted when slur first heard of the union,
But she has, dear soul, aid-fosloioicd notions
Kit and her judgment and perception in
some parts are atrangoly woak, She would
have had the young lady marry a gentle -
Mom of ]tor own ago, no doubt ; it would
have been more to aoaordanco with old
notions of ronanco and sentiment. But it
some to one that in an arbifioial elate of
000loty romanoo and sentiment have little
place, aid mon and W0In011 of the world
who bravo least of it aro apparently the most
happy. And this marriage is a proof of it,
for in her letter my dear HIelm (ae I must
call hoe) speaks in tonna of the highest, af•
foction and regard for hor dear husband—"
I could restrain my passion no loupe.
Grasping the iron bare before me I shook
them furiously to make Ilion slop and listen
to me, I opened my month to speak to
denounce the woman who Balled herself the
wife of that other man—to call down the
curse of Heaven upon her, but my frenzy of
ruga (hooked ale. I stood there like a gib-
bing apo behind tllo bare, my mouth agape,
uttering nnintellfgiblo sounds.
"Iio1•a you must come out of this," said
the warder, seizing me tightly by the arms,
"You're going to have a tit or something,
That's the worst of tease quiet ones," lie
added, as he lend me away, speaking over
hieshouldor to the vigor—"they're bound
to burst out soon( time or other."
(TO BE CONTINUE°.)
A CANADIAN TENNYSON.
.A Item, esti., Farmer ('taints lliglh btel-
Ilenshlp.
An item having been going tho rounds
that the late Lord Tennyson bad a brother
residing at Dresden, Ont., a reporter visit•
ed that pleasant little town to interview
hint. Dresden itself is a rather romantically
situated town iu Kent county—the lazily -
rolling Sydenham River dividing it in two,
The country thereabouts is a fine farming
distrlot. The thickly shocked cornfields
and orohards with apples in great red and
yellow heaps indicated thrift and prosper-
ity,
Tho Tennyson hone is a modest four.
roomed cottage on the outskirts of the town.
Mr. Tennyson ie a short, rather thickset
man with a strong Cornish accent, a typical
",Heel e" in looks and speech.
" What is your full name, kir. Tunny•
son ?" the reporter asked.
"My name is \Martin 'Tennyson, age 58,
occupation laborer, and I work this half
acre of garden whish you see hero," he an-
swered with the air of a cautious, tnethodi-
cal eau under cross-examination.
"It is stated in the papers that you area
brother of the late poet laureate of Eng-
land."
"That is not true, then. The late Lord
Tennyson was my uncle. My father's name
was John Tennyson, a tenant -farmer in
Cornwall, England. Besides my father,
there were Alfred, the poet; Charles, a
Church of England clergyman, and 1Vi11-
iam, a wholesale tea merchant on Chatham
street, New York.
"How many years slice yon left Eng-
land 7"
"Thirty-eight years ago, landing in New
York,where I stopped with any uncle Will-
iam for a time before coming to Canada."
"Have you any remembrances of Lord
Tennyson?"
"1 remember visiting with my father at
his place in the Isle of Wight and remem-
ber the poet as an odd-looking man, trough
I read by tho papers these late years that
los was the greatest man in England. My
own father was a better•looking man,
though.
Lid Lord Tennyson ever write to you 2"
"When this boy was born," pointing to
lois grandson, Alfred Tennyson, a boy of
10 or I2—"we decided to call him otter the
poet laureate and I wrote my uncle so. A
reply came back from Kellam Tennyson,
and shortly after Lora Tennyson himself
wrote me a kind letter and 1 tell you the
could write. None of the scratching like
the lawyers write but a hand like copper.
plate."
"Have you those letters with you 7"
"No; they are out at my ?needed
daughter's on the North Branch (none 11'al-
lacebutg), Her neighbors wanted to see
them, but I can get then for you to sec ;
but I won't self them, Some man wrote to
me front London, England, wanting to buy
theta, but I don't want to sell them."
"Did any others of the Tennyson family
write poetry 1"
I think Charles did but he didn't anouut
to much. bly grandson hero is a bit clover
and some day will be as big a man as tooi•d
Tennyson. Let the gentleman hear how
good you can splay, Alfred." But the boy
peremptorily declined to exhibit his clever-
ness in that lino and began to cry instond.
The old gentleman seemed proud of his
relationship to the poet laureate andfostere
the hope that he will yet Dome in for his
share of to Tennyson estate. He wished
particularly Moab a paper containing the
Interview should be sent him so that he
could send it to Lady Tennyson. All his
neighbors give him credit for being an
honest, hard-working man and his appear.
once and home bear out these statements,
Wolds of Wisdom.
Trust thyself ; every heart vibrates to
that iron string.
Strong faith in human beings is the
stronger faith in God.
They who would rule safely must rule
with love, not arnns,
What I must do is all that oedema mo,
not what people think..
Hardships seem still boarder ata distance,
I think, than close at hand.
A man that cannot hold his peace till the
time come for speaking and acting is no
right man,
A great man is he who in tho midst of
the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness Oho
independence ofeolitude.
God does not always refuse when He de-
lays, but He loves porsevoranee and grants
it everything.—[liosomet.
Ho that studios books alone will know
how things ought to be and he that studies
men will know how things are,
A. grateful mind
By owing, 0w001001,boitst111t nyaatonoo
Indebted toed dlaclargori.—btlIilton,
The meaning of life here of earth might
be defined as consisting in thio—to unfold
yoersoif, to work that thing you have the
facially tor,
Mon imagine that theyoommtinioato their
virtue or vino only by overt actions, and do
not the that virtue or vice emit a breath
every moment,
Life is too Boort to be worrying as to
Who likes yon and who does not, .Prase on
through the shadows that hang over those
low grounds to the brighb tnotutaiu tops
over yonder, where you will not havo au
enemy.
Have you nobiaod the`"general typo of
faces 1n 0111' doe? A dull oeseleaeneao, a
restless del lness,seeun spread ovor all regions
of the Hieha, What has become of the old
aabn focus? Will anyone give its book Mho
peaceful lives of the peat?
The dui dl wants no funnier jab thou hers
vesting 0 harsh° smokers,
HEALTH.
The float of the Body.
Of the warnodllooded animals, man has
rho most remarkable power of sustaining
life in climates widely ditforing uo tempera -
tura, the ltverego beteg 118 degrees, Falwell.
halt, in all parts of the habitable globe,
There is but a slight dillorouou in this re•
epoot whether man lives ab the equator or
no the sections oonbigneue to the pciee, or
08 neer es it le possible for human Imago to
exist. This is wall illustrated by the feet
that Capt. Parryt who wintered in the aro,
lie region, the thermometer ranging front
forty degrees below zero to seventy degrees
found the animal heat to Ile alined, precisely
tate same as at the equator, while Capt.
Sooroaby fauucl lots temperatnro of the
whale, ono of the low waren blooded inhab.
'tants of the ocean, to be ono hundred and
four degrees above zero, very Clearly Wort-
h with that of the equatorial whale,
tllnngh, fn the forinor case rho whale was
surrounded by iso, at a temperature below
the freezing point of fresh water, the water
in which he spent his life being at about
the same temperatnro. Aside from this pow-
er of the body to equalize and control the
temperatnro, we !night expect Gout the
blood and other fluids of the body would be-
come so congealed in the polar seotions bloat
they could not circulate or perform their
natural functions, resulting t000ertaindoath
while, on the contrary, in the equatorial
regions the fatty portions and the softer
matters mighb become liquefied, This
power • to conform to existing circumstances,
and resist the natural effects of the heat in
its notion on the fats, is the most remark
ably illustrated when the human body is
subjected to unusual temperature, as when
an eminent man entered a room in which
the temperature was raised to two hundred
and sixty degrees, but it wee still mere re-
markable vvhenthe "fire.king," Chaubert,
entered All oven, heated to six hundred de•
groes, a temperature twice as high as is
necessary to cooly meats and bread, such a
heat not changing the form of his body, not
cooking his flesh. To enable the body to
conform to those veryingcondieiona, to live
and thrive in such widely differing tem-
peratures, it is necessary to have regard to
the food eaten as to the clothing worn. The
inhabitants of the highest latitude—where
no mortal. nod over live — find it necessary
to live on the "blubber" of the whale, or they
would soon freeze, while the inhabitants
of the tropics live very generally on the
juicy fruits and vegetables, with but little
solid food. Should these two classes
obrapty exchange the foods safely adopted
by them, death would soon follow, the one
freezing in a fete clays, at most, while the
other would contract the yellow fever in the
same time. The acids and the juice of the
tropical fruits end vegetables—largely corn -
posed of water—promote perspiration, one
of the most prominent moans of effecting
the escape of tine surplus heat of the body,
while the thirst of such regions amour/14e
fres water -drinking, promotive of porspira•
tion, To sustain the body at the nsesoaory
point of temperature, there ars three classes
of the "heaters"—the sweats, the starches
and the fats, the latter being, relatively,
very difficult of digestion, so mush eo as not
to be encouraged, to any great extent,
under ordinary citoumstances, and is parbic-
ularly unfavorable to those having impair-
ed digestive powers, while in our climate
they are never absolutely necessary, the
sweets and starching being all that wo really
need, the former being particularly palat-
able, while the latter are vary abundant in
our grains, in the potato, etc.
Physioal Training in Sohools•
In cities, more than in smaller towns and
in the country, the value of some regular
physical drill Is evident.
In rospo0a to wholesome surroundings,
the country boy or girl is much the more
fortunate. The greater purity of the air,
though valuable, is perhaps not so musts
responsible for the better average of health
found in the country as ora the varied oc-
cupations, which giv° rise to robust and
symmetrical physical development.
Conning from an examinatian of the
crowded conditions of many city schools,
one ceases to wonder at the necessity for
the city's recruiting its ranks from a rural
population. Boys with imperfectly develop-
ed bones resulting in deformed figures, girls
with stooping shoulders or ourvmg spine
are anything but rare,
For such children something must be
done. It theme absurd to overburden the
brains of children who have so little physi-
cal strength. Such a amuse favors diaease
of both mind and body.
For some of the mental training imposed
upon such children physioai drill should be
substituted. One hour—two hears, if nee-
eesary—mighb be taken from the school
hours and devoted to masala -building ex-
ercises. Under a competent trainer and
loader such exercises develop the greatest
amount of result to the shape of enlarged
muscles, and what is equally important,
they lessen nervous development, as is evt•
danced by less craving for exoftemenb.
Many schools aro already equipped with
such arrangements, and the results have
been most gratifying.
Every public school in every largo city
ehonld be provided with appointments for
regular physical exeroiee and drills. The
time spent in exorcises of this kind shows
more mmaole-building result than the sane
amount of time spent in some laborious oc-
cupation demanding the nee of certain
muscles o•,ly ; fn fact, these exercises cor-
rect errors of unsymmetrical development
that exclusive ac00Pations induce,
Icor girls ospeoially such exercises are
valuable. Girls are as capable of develop-
ing muscle as are their brothers, and they
are no less womanly for being possessors of
muscle or for knowing how to sleoit,
AreAtom M Magnets? —�
It was long ago demonstrated thab the
earth is a great magnet. That the sun is
also a magnet is a conolusiou indicated by
many facts aooumulated by Modern scathed
Bub of the sun is a magnet, why are nob the
stars also magnets, although some of them
May surpass the env in magnitude almost
as much an the sun surpasses the earth,
So we find that there is almost no limit
to the enormous sloe that a magnet may
possess. But lately the question has been
raised whether the same truth does not ex-
tend in the opposite direction. We the,
tahuly cannot divide lu magnet into pieces
eo small that 0117 ono of them will cease
to be a magnet, and it is suggested that
this divieon might go on down to the orig•
teal atones of which matter le aonpossd,
without Inns of the magnetic property.
Indeed, there are fade whish them to
show that ail atoms may be /nagmets, and
that thole mognetfa relations to one anoth.
or may acammt for certain ehentaal oifeets,
So the infinitely great and Mho infinitely
little lead to similar conclusions,
'19teb'roneh duelist who ewallowol poison
upon the throw of oho dice may truly be
said to have died 0n the spat,