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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1903-09-25, Page 3ikve 41/411 e.tiv, te, itt Ye 116' 74-4/A,Peee difrow,:r� 41 reedrelleedeelreeleeereeeereireeemereefeereareereireelegrereeretteetee The { se a d Lily Dagger �r.e....ww.r A e ALB OF WOMAN'S LOVE AND WOMAN'S PERFIDY Je ,it el ,g9 v1,NaNa9a.th.aa..his.04.:A dth..fb.,04 ..�a..7r.m9a w ... The blind man covered his face with his hands. It was evident that a fearful struggle w,as going on with- in his mind. Gerald waited, watch- ing him with burning anxiety. At •last Luigi spoke. "I can say nothing r he said hoarse- ly. "Nothing ! Do you hear ? Noth- ing!" Good 1" exclaimed. Gerald grimly. "Then—well, I can only say that I .can do nothing, nothing! No man -can save him 1" Luigi shook and trembled. "I have not one point to bring in his favor 1 Tiho fact that he was 'out there—by that bridge at the time of the murder, the wet coat, the spots of blood, the dagger found in his poeket, all go to prove him guilty, and I—I bavo nothing to set against ft. If ho is guilty--" Luigi sprang to his feet and turned ells sightless eyes upon him. "Ho guilty, I Nairne stab a man in the dark 1" he began with almost furious indignation, than he sank on to the seat again, and his head drooped. Gerald watched h1nr. '"So," he said, "you think him in- nocent. Then—listen to me, Lugi: Who is guilty? Who did It?" ' Luigi shook his head. "I well not speak, I will not say, another word. Like him, I must be silent. Like him—ah !—" he stopped and listened—"What is that ?" he 4etopped and listened— "What is that ?" he demanded in a whisper. 'What is what ?" said Gerald, who had heard nothing. "Some one Is coming," replied Luigi. "A w•oniaei, I can hear the rustle of her dress !" "Coming here ?" said Gerald. "Yes, here!" replied Luigi, and he nose. Gerald took his arm and drew him behind the shrubbery;. "It is one of the servants," said Luigi In a dory voice." There is no one else." "Keep quiet," whispered Gerald, and still gripping Lulgi's arm he leaned forward and looked through the hedge. The footsteps came nearer and more distinctly, and presently, Ger- ald saw a slight, girlish figure com- ing down the path. She was walking quickly,, and yet as it seemed to him, cautiously. Luigi felt for his hand and held 1t"It is altiwomaan;!" he whispered. "Hush!" said Gerald warningly;. The slight figure came abreast of them. stopped for a moment, aind looked round cautiously!, and Gerald saw her face distinctly. It was a mile, thin face surmount- ed by a thick coil of red -gold hair. Re had not time to notice more, for, as if reassured, she went past them With a light, quick step, in the dir- ection of the bridge. Gerald felt that Luigi was tremb- ling violently,. "Who—what is she?" he whisper- ed. "No one comes here; they are all afraid 1" Gerald motioned him to silence, and ,watched. Fanny, for it was she, crossed to the middle of the bridge, and, lean- ing on 'the low rail, looked down at the stream. He could not see her taco for a. moment, but presently: she shifted her position, and then ho saw that the face was deathly' wli.ito and wore an expression which ho found. difficult to describe to him - Bele SLEEPLESS BABIES. :When a little ono is sleepless and cross it is the surest sign in the .World that it is suffering from some derangement of the stomach and bowels—the seat of nine -tenths of all baby ailments. In cases of this kind Baby's Own Tablets act like Magic. They sweeten .the sour Little stomach, relax the distended little bowels, cool the parched, fevered riaouth, and bring natural, liealtil- givlpg sleep. An experienced mother, Mrs. Ed. Godin, Griffith, Ont., says: "I leave used Baby's Own Tablets for many ailments peculiar to babyhood, such as revers, indigestion, diarrhoea, etc., and X have found them the most eflective medicine I have ever tried. I can 'Daly add I would not be with- ort them in the Mouse, so much do I think of theta," Other mothers who wish health for their little (eves cannot 'do .beltter tin follow WOO. Godin'sexample, fou can get the z'ablets from all modielele dealers or they will be sent by inail•at 25 cents a box be writ- ing direct to. the Dr. Williams' Medi= clue Co., Brockville, Oht1, , Sho remained looking down at. the stream for full a minute, then she moved to the other side of the bridgo and leaned against the rail, hor head bowed as if in deep thought. Then he saw her fling her hands be- fore her eyes as if to shut out some vision from her sight. She stood in this attitude for a, moment, appar- ently overwhelmed and absorbed, then site crossed to the other side again and looked down at the stream, and, as it seemed to Gerald, on the very spot on which Charles Sherwin had been found. Still, by his touch, exhorting Luigi to nsileisce, he waited, and presently Fanny turned away from her contem- plation of the stream, slowly and reluctantly as it seemed to Gerald, and retracing her steps came to- ward them. as waited, still holding Luigi, until she had nearly reached their hiding place, then stepped out. She started, and stopped short, but uttered no cry, anti stood look- ing.at him with her sharp eyes, which, seemed to have grown larger. "Good afternoon, Miss Inchley," Ger- ald said gravely. She made him a bow that was half a curtasy. "Good -afternoon, sir," she respond- ed meekly and sadly, the light lasines covering her eyes. "So you are not afraid of the bridge, bliss Inchley ?" he remark- ed. "Miss Inchley is far too sensible," broke in a voice. It was not that of Luigi. but Saunders. Gerald started, for he had not seen the detective approach, and had no/ suspicion of his proximity ; but Fanny Inchley expressed no sur- prise. She stood, her hands meekly folded, her head slightly bent. "I came to get some flowers for Lady Scott," she said. "She prefers wild flowers." "And very pretty they are," Said Saunders, in a dry, matter-of-fact voice, and looking at Gerald and not •at Fanny. "I never saw, so many wild flowers as there are in; these woods. I suppose you call them woods, miss?" "We call it the park." replied. Penny, half lifting her white lids. "T.he park ? Yes. Well, Mr. Locke, the marquis is committed" Gerald nodded, and Fanny, with an- other half -bow, half-coprtesy, was moving away ; but Saunders, taking her into the conversation with a look, said quickly "You've got a hard case, Mr. Locke; I don't envy you." "No ? Well, I don't• know( that I am to be envied" said Gerald. "No;' said Saunders, gravely. "Tho evidence is dead against you. You'll find it hard to rebut it. I'm sorry—a.nd I'm sure Miss Inchley here is sorry, now, aren't you ?" "I know nothing about it;' she said, slowly and impassively. "I was in bed at the time.'" "Why, come, come." said Saun- ders, with a laugh. "Whoever would dream of suggesting that you did know anything about it i I asked if you weren't sorry for the marquis ?" She raised her eyes to his face slowly. "Yes, I am very sorry for him," she said, as if guarding the very tone of hor voice as well as her words. "It seems too dreadful to be erne. But clever men like yo.r, Mr. Saunders, never make a mei- 'take, do you ?" Satincders half shut his eyes, and swayed his stick to and fro like a pendulum. "Oh, we do, sometimes," he said, apologetically. "The folks who sem- mit murder, and forgery, and that kind of thing, are not all fools. They are sometimes a good deal cleverer than we are. You see, their dan- ger makes them sharp. Self-pre- servation is the first law of nature, isn't' it, Mr. Locke? But it's rather singular that with all their sharp• twee they generally leave a chink in their armor through which we can get at 'em. They nearly always do something, or leave something lin. done, that puts us on the scent and helps us to run them down." "Yee," said Gerald.. "Not: that I mean to say the mar- quis used much caution. I shouldn't have kept that dagger in my pocket : now, should you, Miss Inchley?" i She looked at him with an air of sad reflection. "I don't know," She said, impassive- ly. "I don't like to think about it." "No, mo," murmured Saunders, seen - pathetically. "Of course you don't ; very natural l" She looked yip at him . agate, net quickly, but with a faint a tpreaslon Of surprise. "I mean that ft's not the kind of SKIN DISEASES Invariably Due to Poor and Watery Blood Pimples, Blotches, Eo!!s and Ugly Rashes Easily Cleared From the Blood. (From the Advocate, Exeter, Ont.) All diseases of «tile skins and coma plex%n are caused by bad blood. Paleness and pimples, blotches and boils, ugly rashes and open sores, itching eczema and burning erysip- sipeias—x11 these blemishes come from bad blood. A bad skit] le a are sign of bol blood — thin blood, watery blood, blood poisoned with imp:nri- ties. You can't have a healthy, clear skin till you make your blood pure and rich with Dr. ;Williams' Pink iPlls, These pulls are a sure and speedy cure for all skia diseases, for agoniz- ing eczema of bothersome little pim- ples—for a bad 'complexion, or ugly open ulcers. No claim is ever made for Dr. Williams' Pink Pills not back- ed by the most positive proof, and in' this connection we offer the tes- tinionial of Mrs. Nicholas Mcievoy, a life-long, much esteemed resident of Exter, Ont. To a reporter of the Advocate Mrs. McAvoy said : "Some years ago I was taken, with a slight itching under one of my arms.. I gave it little attention at Chest thinking it would plass away, but in this I was mistaken, for as time went on it became worse and soon developed into an aggravated case of eczema, causing a great deal of pain, irritation and suffering. In feet. I was compelled to endure tor- tures. I consulted a doctor and took his medicine for several months, but the trouble did not leave, neither did it get any better. In feet it took a train for the worse and de- veloped into scrofula. As the doc- tor's medicine did not help me I tried several advertised medicines, but: with no better •results. Finally a lady friend strongly urged me to try Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. The ef- fect was almost magical. In a few weeks there was a decided change for the better, and as time went on the trouble gradually left and to -day I am' entirely free from ie. I owe my complete ,recovery—if not my, life— to Dr. Williams' Pink Pills, a feet I wish to put on record that others may benefit as I have done." There is absolutely eco disease due to poor blood—and anost diseases are due to this 'trouble—that Dr. Wil- liam's' Pink Pills will not euro. You car] get these pills from any drug- gist or they will be sent post paid at 50 cents a box or six boxes for 82.50 by writing the Dr. Williams' Me:110ln° Co., Brockville, Ont. Re- member that substitutes cannot pos- sibly euro. said, approvingly. "Her aunt ought younng creature—well, X should like to be very proud of her, for she's to hove him wethipi reach of any; asmt. Witte the lady. Well, X must be get- Rees is the fast woman's Heart he ting on. Nothing you want to say to ;w'ouuld break 1': me, 'Mr. Leek°, I suppose ?" and he "e fear for the poor old.ma jor, her. xi looked at Gerald's anQtts, t,hougbte, father," said the countess with a, ful face keenly.. ! lGerabi shook bis head, +' "� 1 demented, and einsig1;, "pgetimes he seems almost le afraid to speak •, No," he said. , 1 ` I'ol him tg Aa11 him haw' she Le 1 led Senders touched hes bat, glanced he was SO—130 debonnaire, so sprtght- at We; sill seated :bent and mo- lee at times. Abe here is the doctor, tlonless, and strolled on: she broke off as he passed the open( Gerald looked after him for a mo- window, and she ran and called to ment or two, wondering what fas- him. "What news of our sweet pa= cination could have drawn Fanny tient, doctor?" I ", Inchley to the ,bridge then he said: Re paused, looking at kis gloves " I'll take you home, Luigi. I'm as lee pulled them on, add atoiding going back to the rectory." her eyes alter the fashion of doe - Luigi started slightly and raised his head. Will you lend me your handker- chief ?" he said in a low voice. "I have torn my hand with the brambles while we were hiding in the bush. I h+aleft my handker- ChieP at home."ve a "Those thorns are like needles," said Gerald, giving him the hand- kerchief ; " May tore a great rent in her frock one night." Luigi took the handkerchief, and. held it a moment as if he were thinking intently, and had forgot- ten his scratched hand. "Let me wind it round for you," said Gerald•. "Na, nu!" responded Luigi, and he whipped it round his wrist. "I am ready now," he said in a low voice. CHAPTER XXXIII. The good folks at the Hotel Pen- sion on the side of the beautiful thing a lady likes to think of. I'm not over fond of a murder case myself ; it's unpleasant, and if it weren't for the satisfaction of dropping on the right person and getting him hard and fast, why, it would be more un- pleasant even than it is. Did you ever hear how I nabbed that gentleman who set fire to his house, Mr. Locke?" Gerald shook his head. "Well, now, there was a clever man," said Saunders, cheerfully. "Really clever, ii1Iss Inchley. Ile had a splendid collection of pictures and curios, old masters, and all sorts of things, and he'd them insured for a big amount. Then be got into diffi- culties ; he was a stockbroker, and they do have rune of bad luck some- times, you know. Well, one night his house up West .caught fire. Burnt clean out ; So clean that the insur- ance people got suspicious. They had an idea—it was the right one, as it proved—that he had removed the most valuable of the things, and then set fire to the house for the sake of raising the money. They sent for me. It all seemed straight enough. The fireman who was first On the scene found the gentleman in bed, or just slipping on his things. His wife and children were at the seaside, but there were ser- vants in the house, of couree, and he seemed more anxious about them, for a time, than even his valuable collection. No lives were lost, and the insurance company would have had to pay if I hadn't chanced to ask a question of the fireman who sasv the gentleman slipping on his things. I asked him what he had managed to get on. "'01r, his trousers and a shirt, and a waistcoat,' he said. "'What had he got on his feet ?' I asked: I "The man thought a moment. "'Well,' he replied, 'naw I come to think of it, he'd got his boots on.' " 'Lace ter spring sides ?' "'Lace,' saki the man, 'I noticed 'em as I was helping him down the escape; and they were laced up tight, too 1' "That was enough for me ! A man doesn't stop to dace up his boots when the flames and the smoke are all around him. It was the only mistake he'd mads ; going to bed in his boots, and carefully laced; but it set me on the track, and I Worked it out; ail right. file's doing his seven years name " That was very sharp of you," said Gerald, absently. Luigi remained silent, and appar- ently uninterested. "I don't know. X only- told you the story to show you how little a thing will help us. Going, Miss Inehley ?" for Fanny had moved away. " Aren't you going to get those wild flow- ers ?" Wild flowers? Oh, yes," said she quietly. '" They are in the .park farther on. Good morning, Mr. Locke; I hope you will be able to Save the poor marquis." B•tindere looked after her admir- ingly. • " Nice young lady, ;hiss 'Fanny 1" he tors. 1 "No good news as yet, I'm sorry) to say, madam," he responded grave- ly. "Miss Delaine, is still uncon- scious and very weak, There is very little change, if any." And day after day that was the bulletin. Day after day the major sat beside the bed, the wreck of his -former Pelf , the shadow and ghost of the uappee, light-bearted major who had fronted the world so cheer- fully and bravely, but to ,succumb to this terrible and least expected of calamities. Be sa.t ror nouns looking at the thin, %emoted face, now white as marble, and now flushed with the burning crimson of fever; sat for hours holding her hand as the parch- ed lips moved restlessly, and the strained 'voice rambled over old times in the wild, purposeless talk of delirium. And then worn out and lake, diel not know: which to pity exh'a'usted, she fell into silence, the most, the young girl Iying sick I major would draw a newspaper unto death', or the white -hailed from hiss pocket, the newspaper be had found lying beside her, father who at times seemed well- i and read nigh distracted by his daughter's with fresh horror in, his eyes every, peril, and at others sual Leto a de- ' me the account of the murder in the Castle park. epairing lethargy. IWhat ,should he do? He asked him - If sympathy could have restored ! eel( this question hourly. Ile almost Elaine lo health she would have dreaded Elaine's return to conscfouo- been well very quickly. There was Inese for the words she bad shrieked not ono who did not pity and ad- before $he became delirious were al - mire her, from the Germla.n land- ways ringing in his ears. Would she lord, who seemed to have nothing insist upon going back to England, to do but smoke a long pipe with would she insist upon being present a china beryl, to the lit- at ethe trial, in mixing herself up tle Swiss chambermaid, who,with this .riwful tragedy ? wtih moi.t eyes, hovered about ! That the marquis was guilty the sick -room door in the chance of . the major felt convinced. The evidence—and he read the London papers each day with feverish terror, read all the details, the surmises, the comments and gossip about the case—seemed to him as convincing as it appeared to every one else. And it was now dawning into his mind that he could supply the mo- tive. No doubt the marquis had heard of Captain Sherwin's proposal to Elaine; the two men had met, quar- reled—about her—and—and---1 Yes, there seemed no chance of his inno- cence ! And Elaine's name would be connected with the case 1 His would too—the name of Delaine ! The shame of it would kill him! 'Yes, at times he felt himself almost Wishing that she might never come back to the consciousness and know- ledge of the misery, that awaited hen hearing good news from the grave - faced doctor, who spent nearly all his time beside the fever -stricken girl. It was not only her loveliness but her native modesty and sweetness which had won all hearts, and a gloom settled down upon the table d hote as they glanced now and again toward the sick -room and talked of her in subdued velces. " I don't think she has spoken twenty words to me," said the colo- nel, sadly ; "and yet I feel as if it were my own daughter—she's a bonny woman, and a wife and mother, thank God !—and I used to look forward to the smile with which she always acknowledged my bow when she came to take her place at the table or I met her in the garden." " It's consumption, I suppose?" re- marked the lady next him, a Polish countess, who spoke English and half a dozen other languages as well as she did her bwn tongue. "It is the curse of England ! When I was there last year I saw so many lovely girls with cream -like complexions and that fatal dash of red in their cheeks. It is a grand country, your iron- bound island, colonel, but its cli- mate!" and she shrugged her shoul- ders. " It's not consumption the poor young creature has got," he re- sponded, rather testify. "The doctor says her chest is as strong as—as mine. Something has gone wrong— there has been some trouble." "Alt. ,yes 1" said the countess, sym- pathetically;. "They say women of the present day have no hearts, that they are all callous and unfeeling." "I never said so, for one, countess," he muttered. "But it Is not so. They learn to hide it better than their grandmoth- ers did, bat their hearts are beating warm enough in their bosoms. This poor girl, the major's daughter, has had an affaire de coeur, is it not ? blandly, "it won't help your ease td "I don't know, ma'am," replied the try to shift the lbi,ame on to your old colonel. "The major has not con- parents." Tided in me, it is only what I gath- As James Russell Lowell saki: er from hearsay. I can only say "There's a deal of solid kicking in that if any scoundrel has been play- the meekest -looking mule."—Youth's leg fast and loose with that sweet Companion. ------------ Sometimes as he sat looking at her, or readeng the accounts in the papers, he asked himself whether he ought not to communicate with the marquis, with the police. Every day he expected, dreaded, 'to 'see Elaine's name—his own— mentioned in the accounts in the newspapers ; and it puzzled him that the name was not mentioned. She seemed to have been completely; forgotten —she who, as he felt, was the cause of the trouble! If his hair had mot been white al- ready the days and nights spent be- side Elaine, with the newspapers hid- den in his pocket or held in his hand ready to be thrust out of sight at the entrance of the nurse, would have blanched it. ello be Continued.) The Editor Turns. The youthful author pocketed his rejected verses, ,but he could not swallow the editor's criticism. "lSix," said be, not without dignity, "a poet is born, not made."' " Young man," returned the editor, A Case of Eczema en Descri es f�r After Yhie®a wasTerribleSuffering Permanently Cured OR. CHASE'S Many of the curds brought about by Dr. Chase's Ointment are so much like miracles that people can scarcely believe them'. When Baby Millar became a victim of eczema her parents did everything teat could be done to got her cured. Throe roc - tors tried all the means in their power, but without success, and then all sorts of remedies were the vain lcopso that something would bt'ing re- lief from the disease that seemed to bo burning up the living flesh, It was not until Dr. Chase's Oint- ment was used that relief and euro came. The case is certified tot by a prominent Sunday School superrn- ten,clent of St. Catharines. Mrs. Wm. Millar, St. Catharines, Out., writes: "My daughter, Mary,. When six months old, contracted ec- zema, and for three years this dis- ease baffled all treatment. Her case VMS one of the worst that ever came to my notice, and she suffered what no pen can ever describe. I had her treated by three different doctors, bunt alt to no purpose whatever, and all sorts of balms, soaps and lotions Little Mary htlillar by OANT ENT were tried with no beneficial r sults. " Finally I deolded to use Chase's Ointment, and to my s prise eine began to improve imm ately, and after regular treat for a time, the disease of so 1 standing completely disappeared that was four years ago, and i symptom of this distressing all fees ever shown itself since, th must certainly be a hormones At the time of this cure w living in Cornwall, Ont., doctors there feared that if not cured of eezenea she w into a decline." Mr. S. Richardson, jun„ tet•dent Christ's Church School, St. Catharines, Ont "I air acquainted with Mr Vera. Millar, and believe t not sake any statement Go be in any way mislea true." Dr. Chase's Ointment, box at all dealers, o Bates .0 Company, Toro icet you against lmitat tacit and signature Chase, the famous rec thor, are on every bo dies. r ; ,