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The Brussels Post, 1893-5-26, Page 2p"ne„ior HIS HEIRESS; OR, LOVE rs ALWAYS THE y ME. CHAPTER VL—(Cov'rrersn.) roar guests rather." No. answer, "I hopa, at least, yon will like the melee - Von I have made." I hope ao, absently. "Next timeyoucan make your Own." " I daresay.' fila 1 think, perhaps, It would be advisable that you should know who is coming," says Lord lirauksmere, irritably, "" M.—?" It is evident site Is not lie. Madam ggn e your May I beg tint you will give t y intention fora few minutes 1' His tone hie time is very much louder, and Lady .Branksmere lifts to hint a glance of calm iiarprtse. " Alt, yon wish to talk—is that It?" she ;Doke in a bored voice, with an air of intense resignation, laying her magazine upon her knees. Well; She looks at him hit. idly' I wish certainly to interest you in the affairs of your household." "If that is so, yon are fortunate. I am already deeply interested. I am, indeed, more than interested; I am cadets. May I ask who is this woman this housekeeper—this madam—who has lust quitted the room, atuf who few hours ago welcomed me so kindly- to my own femme?" "She is Madame von Thirsk. She eau /lordly be called a housekeeper. She is a great friend, a very tender friend of my gt uedmother's." "A rare friendship 1 May and December do not, as a rate, lie in cath other's bosoms. fl'wentyyears ago, Lady Branksmere most /rave been pretty muoh what she is now, frweuty .years ago, her friend mist have •aeon a little girl of twelve or so. It is very downtime, very picturesque, quite a small ,romance. And this friend : yon pay her?" • " Certainly not," A dark flash rises to )itis forehead. "Good heavens! no," he outinues, in a shocked tone. "She stays ere for love of Lady Branksmere." "Ah i. for love of Lady Braukamere ! She Books well born, yet she resigns the world to take care of an old woman. It is a mar- vellous devotion." "Yes. A marvellous devotion," repeats Branksmere, in a low tone. ' She seems olever, too. Has she" (with a little sneer) "befriended your grand• reecho' fon„ .g?„ " She has been with her, off and on, for the last seven years, 1 should say. She is quite an old friend with us all." " With your sister-in-law, for example ?" A. sad ehadow crosses 1?ranksmere's face. " Of course, they have met, but not eftan. Dome been so seldom at Branks- anere, and Lady Anne rarely comes here in my absence." ' Sho, too, likes this 'madame '1" "Ireally oan'tsay,"impatiently. "What an interest you take in her." • " Well? Is not that what you desired a `rmoment, since, that I should look after the affairs of my household? A good wife,". with' a curl of her red lips, " should follow her husband's lead, and you -By the bye, you seemed quite engross- ed with the conversation of your grand - ',mother's friend, as I cane up the balcony steps a little while ago." Did I? Probably she was telling nae something about Lady Braukemere," Muriel, throwing� back her head against `the soft crimson silk of the cushions, laughs aloud. At this moment it occurs to her atom little she really cares. "You are an excellent grandson,' she. Days; looking athim through half closed lids. i" Few would lose themselves so entirely as you seemed to do, in a recital of their grandmother's ailments, even with a hand - no le woman." Alt this is beside the mark," exclaims Branksmere, abruptly. " Why drew yon away from your book was to explain to you about our guests of Thursday next. I hope at least yon will like my sister•in-law, Lally Anne." Yon forget I have already learned to do that. Lady Atte is ono of the few people I einoerely admire. She is such a distinct contrast to myself that,; if only as a useful study, I should value her. There seems to lie uo angles about her; no corners to be turned. It seems to me in every phase of We she would be admirable." "Site is admirable always. Her girlhood, lherwomanhood, her widowhood, have been alike without reproach. "Talkie of her reminds me that tto-night Ig met some ono else who e likely to suit me. I allude to may brother's wife, Mrs. Daryl. She neems a little crude, a little brusque, per - "maps, but desirable." I ant glad you have found some one so much toyour taste so near you—so near Bl anksmere. " "Yes, it is an advantage. Well l"—care• Naseby—'" VC 110 else is oomtng?" " The Primroses, the Vyners, Mr, Hulk. stt, Captain Staines, and--" Lady Branksmere, knocking het arm in some awkward fashion against the elbow of -tier chair, her magazine falls to the ground. leer husband stoops to piok it up, and as lie hands it to Meru a little sernok by some indefinable change in her face. Are her eyes 6,rightter, or her lips paler, or is it that— " You look feverish. 1 was right about that chill after all," ha says, slowly. " if it p'easee yon, think so,' returns aim, in a quick hard tone. "Go on—Mr. Halkett, Captain—Staines did you say ? "You should know him, fie was stay img down here last autumn with some poo. TM, I believe. Iknow little of him myself met him in Brussels about a year ago, and yesterday in Piooadilly, came Use to Moe with him again, Ile happened to mention Vyners, so as he is an agreeable sort of fel• low --good connections and all that—I, • asked him to come to us for a fortnight or iso, Ile seemed reluctant, 1 thought. But 3 suggested to him that the commencement of the season is always dull, and that a week or se in the country would regulate lain ]for it," ' "There are °there?"she asks, • "titian Amyotand your cousin Paulyn )l%rferely. Yon know you reflood to invite goy of your own friend°, so I was thrown on myown resourees," "I know the t. It Was an absurd time to res nky one, with the season almost be. • "A,a they are asked "—stiffly—." I hope you will make them welcome." "Even ifIdhdn't,Iexpect itWould hard. ly )natter in thiaperfeetle managedmenage ' with a hell front her largo eyes, " This Marlette De--Von—whatever lets, has been at the Bead of your alfa]re for so long that 11 aeons a pity to distrait her." "I fail to understand you," haughtily, 0 Maclaine. von'Thfrsk has certainly been. 100ful, but—! " ;,'herefore whyshould site. not go on being neeful to the end of the chapler? Why defraud yourself f nc, valual,le services for the cake of?---" 1to becalm off impatiently with all the air Of nuc Who stat been giving way to speech for the•. mere sake of lilting up a void, batt who is hardly aware of what she is saying ; " Why did you ask these people here?" she cries, turning now upon Branksmere with Budden passion, "\,'hen you declared to speed your sea• sea in Park Lane, I thought it prudent to fill Branksmere." " But why—why?" feverishly. "Fearing '_dryly—":al 1 Bala ho -fore, that you would fled this phaco dull." " Ididua expect to taut it duller than any other place." Her passion has died atony frau l,er, and the old insolent expres• sion has again crept round her lips. "Meaning it would be dull nywhere with me?" Muriel shrugs her shoulders, but makes no reply. "" Is that your meaning?" "' Would you compel me to make you a rude answer?" asks elle, looking full at him with a eontemptuoue atnile. Her de. fiance maddens him. " I should prefer a ude one to none at all," he exclauns, with a sudden Uttrst of fury. " Your ]nsoltnt silence is more than Iran endure." "And I should peeler to make none" re turns she, sutilingly. " How shall the tires: tide?" Cool and comppsed, the rises from her seat and looks et the °emelt affair on the chimneypieoe, that to ticking loudly as if to warn them of the passage of time. "Almost eleven 1 Too late for further discussion, however plee out,' she saes, cahndy. "Good•night, my lore," CHAPTER VII, "I am sorry to have disturbed you ; I believed the room was empty," says Mme. von Thirsk with a little ebart, preparing to close the library dour behind her again. "No, stay. As you are here, perhaps yon will let me consult with you about these people who are coming to•ntorrow." Lord Branksmere looks up at her with a rown born of noxious thought. "To consult with me?' says madtune, opening wide her velvety eyes. " lett, sure• ly, there is my Lady 13rankstnere?" " Who knows nothing of them—whereas " r you Uave met them all before," returns Branksmere, irritably. "" To her, they will be strangers ; to you, with the heeu sense of analysis that belongs to you, their idiosyn• cronies, their vat'ioue desires, will be known, and I want them to be comfortable ; to feel, satisfied with the now regime." " Still, it appears in a degree foolish, doesn't it ?" asks she, " If your wife is to know these people later on, it would be bet- ter she should be made au fait with their dispositittus as soon as possible," Sho looks ap soddenly. " \\-hero is she, then 1 I knew she was out, but I believed you were with her." "Yon must remember she is as yet a little new to everything" he says, in a con- strained tone, "And 'tie only,.abural that she should want just at first to see a good deal of her own people. Let her rest Iter- self so. You can help me to -day it ler a havb settee, as you e always done." "As I have always done," she repeats, slowly. Then, with a change of ,manor swift as lightning, she flings herself into a chair, and draws toward her ink and paper. Now for the names of your friends," she cried. "You forgot I don't even know so much. Lady Aune I" writing, as ire die• rates to her—" the Vyners, Primroses, George Halkett, Mrs. Amyat, Caption St-- She drops her pen and stares up at him—" Staines?" she asks, incredulous. ly" Staines, Yes.Tall fair tan in -the 10th ; or was it the 10th? Do you know him ?" "Not personally, You will remember,' poling, "chow complete is my seclusion, as a rule, when living at Branksmere; so e nnplete that my absences have gene aura• marked, But yet, gossip reaches me, the most reserved. I know eomsthing of this man." ' Well?" He waits for a reply, .but nothing comes. "Anything bad ?' " So far ; no.' " An answer worthy of a sibyl." He draws his chair closer to the table. A faint smile curies his lips. "Now for your news," he stays, banteringly. "It is unimportant, perhaps 1 He was staying down here with the Adairs for a month or so last autumn." " All last auttune, as I understand, and far into the winter. But that is not a edam, is it 7" " Did I suggest crimes ?" The expression in her large steep eyes le curious. " That first Insinuation of it rests with yoit." She Leans toward him across the table, and with outstretched arm and lingers attracts his attention. " Remember I" she says, in a low tone. " My dear Thokla, what ? Von grow tragic, You remind one of that everlasting Charles the First. And yet we were not talking of him, but of Staines and his so- journ with the Adairs last autumn. He is a groat friend of theirs." "Is he? He is then probably a favorite of the gods, and all meu worship itim. The Daryls amongst others. " Yes. He seemed to know everybody round hero. And now that I think of it he especially mentioned the Daryls." "Ole shows talent," says Mme. von Thirsk. "He has been unfortunate enough to anger you in some way." Pardon me. We have never met. I should not know this Monsieur --Staines is it not?—if he were shown into this room unannounced." "Then you are unjust to him without reason?" "Yes. But what have slid, then?" she asks. ' It is your, manner, your whole air. As for Staines himeelf, I know Tittle of him ; eo little, thab your innuendoes fall on sterile soil, When I asked hint to come here he happened to mention having been here be. fore, That is how I knew of Ms intimacy with the Adairs." "Did he meneion anything else ? Tits penchant for Lady Branksmere mango other things?" She her risen tr, her feet. He, too, has risen. "Was that so?" he caked in a terrible ton",, "Ts that all?" ho askes derislvely-- "Poor devil 1—whv, wham nenntaln you world make out of your molehill." "NO, invite that man here, Eranko' 1 mere," Saye madame, "Be warned in tine." "Your warning memos too late,"Tightly.. "I have invited bier, I expect hint by to i THE BRUSSELS POST. five train to•ntorrow. Tub ! you forget M uriol's beauty !" Her face pales. "Alen must see it. If 1 were to close my cloore to ell who bowed, at Muriel's shrine, I expect I should kaon• but few in the contry," "I would not, emoted you to shut your doors on those who had loved ]ter," sage time. rote Thirsk, in a low meaning tone. On wheat then ?"demanded he timely, "Your wife,' she oontinuee, " in one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. She itas grown deadly pale, but presently is calmness itself, and very nearly indifferent, "If title man once loved her why expose him to her fascinations for the seemed tine?" elle says, with veiled eve a11,1 all extreme quietude of manner that should have warned him. "It is all mere gossip," declares Blanks. mere, walking impatiently up and down the roost. "It may be sc. Yet gossip hurts. What if this gossip you so despise had gone further?" "As how ?" He stops short and rogards her threateningly. "What if it had been," said she, "your wife—your wife, Branksmere--had loved bit"" "I warn you !" he exclaims with a voice full of concentrated passion, "I desire you not to go too far. I will have no word breathed against Lady Branksmere 1" "Ne. I ootoneword," she answers, de- liberately. "It Was foolish of you, my friend, to ptesn pose the Word was tiler° 1 Yet, bear me, Branksmere," She draws nearer, and with folded arms looks grave• ly up at ]tint. "1 toll you it is madness to leek that mat to your house." "A madness I refuse to recognize," re- turns he, coldly. "As you will, of course," throw- ing out her hands with a little for. reign gesture. "But there is muoh wisdom In the saying that 'prevention is bolter than euro. ' " There is little wisdom in doubting cue's wife without cause." Metiame laughs. " Ah ! you have been too long abroad !" she says, with downcast eyes. "You would have me believe some• tiling," he says at last, in a stifled tone. " What ?" " I have already said as much as I intend to say. For all I know the mischief may be past and gone—and—it may not ! And think," with a sadden flash from her dark eyes, " how it Was site spoke of home; and where she placed it 1 Itot )fere. Not here, Branksmere!" "How you distort things," exclaims he. " The house that has been home for the first twenty years of one's Life is naturally hone to the end. Iu time this place, too, will become dear, and—" His voice dies away. There is some melancholy in it, " Alt ! So ?" murmurs madame. " And she is there now. In the present home, oft?" " Yes," returns Brnuksmere, shortly. • a 5 But she is not. She has come back from her morning visit to the twins ; and is now malting a tour of the cootie with old Mrs, Stoat, the housekeeper, as cicerone. Mrs. Stout, who is as discursive as she is fleshy, is holding forth in a rambling fashion about all the Brankameres, dead and gone. Her extremely engaging conversation brings them presently to the passage that legis to the apartments of the dowager. She melees a step into the passage. - " Her ladyship does not rgoeive to -day," says the housekeeper, " but no doubt if you, my lady, desire to see her, she—" - hot to -day," says Muriel. "But I should like to visit the rooms beyond. This part of the house looas so mysterious, so cut off from the rest of it, that neve a strange longing to make myself acquainted with it." "The keys," the says, turning rather impatiently to tine housekeeper. 1 haven't them, my lady. The rooms beyond belong to Madame Thirsk. No one is ever allowed to enter them," replies Mrs. Stout, "except Mrs. Brooks." Mrs, Brooks is tits dowager's attendant. Bat there must be six or seven rooms in this n ing ?" , eestions Dlurieb. " Seven, me•lady," " Surely, Madame Von Tbira'k does not require them all 7" Apparently she does my lady. I have been here now close on six years, and no One has ever gone into them save madame herself or Mrs. Brooks. They do 00)00 hove It is haunted, but that, of course, is not for your ladyship to believe." "HauntedI Ily what?" melts Muriel, " Ah l That is what no one knows, my lady, There have only been footsteps heard and—aoreams at odd intervals. But the story goes that a former lady of Branks- mere flung herself from one of the windows in this part of the house, booat'e, poor lady, she was forbidden to see her young— that is—ahem,—the gentleman she fancied," winds up Mrs. Stout, witlt an apologetic cough. " Locked up by the orthodox cruel parent, no doubt," says Lady Branksmere. " Well not exactly, ma'am, It was a cruel husband that time," murmurs Mrs. Stout, mildly. Husband!" "Yes—begging your ladyship's pardon 1 There was a husband, sure enough, but it appears the poor creature didn't take to him muoh, but lied a hankering like after an old lover of hers, as was most natural," ""lake oare,Mrs, Stout," laughs Muriel, carelessly. "I doubt your morals are not altogether sound," "I think time will prove you wrong there, my lady," returns Mrs. Stout stiftly. "Int. mortality has never been attributed to Jute Stout I" "No, One oan quite understand that— poor Jane Stout l" returns Lady Branke• mere, "But to your tale. I will not bo spared one ghastly detail." "My lord could tell you all about it far butter than I can madame ; but the end of it was that the miserable lady threw herself out of one of the windows on a starlight night, and her body was found next morn- ing in. the stone courtyard beneath, all crushed and mangled,and go disfigured that they saamely knew her," "A. second Jezebel," remarks Muriel. " And now she walks the earth again, you tell me, in dainty raiment, as when she ived a—or—as they picked her up from the trained caurt.yard P "Who can sav, my ladyl" The house. keeper shrinks a'littie me if terror-strioketr. "'lie only known for certain. that tome - team, on tnoon•llght nights, sus can hoar ea unearthly yell that comes froth behind the etosod door, It is the cry the poor seal neve when falling," " You—did Unto ever hear it?" elle asks, "Once, madame," whispers the house. keeper. "But the dowager lady is some. • times a little nervotts, Brooks tells me, and I thought perhaps—" She pauses ember. mewl, "That tiro aonnd came from her, or else from a )seated imagination, Riddles Muriel for her, " Web, the thought is uncanny, however it g000," :the seeker off the gr•ewcoino feeling tint tad made 1.5s own of her, teed onto troee glatleoa at the carefully guarded door. "1 must then apply to Madame von Thirsk for the keys of title wing 1" she asks slowly, "Yes, my lady ; or to hie lordship." At this moment the heavy haizo•oovored door is flung open, and Dino. von Thirsk steps softly out into the corridor 1 ('so 10: t'o:.rty t'ten.) Opium iu a New Light. fele George Birdwood, an eminent meat. lull Iii t , who has spent many yours in Italia en charge of native regiments, jails and hospitals, says that ludiat opium is, as it always has beer., the luxury of the rich in China, just as champagne is in Europe and America, "tine only difference between them being that while the daily use of champagne or other wines and spirits, malt liquors, etc., may prove deleterious, the stroking of pare extract of Indian monopoly opium can in itself never be inju riona to health, not even when in- dulged, so faros time and mosey wasted on it aro concerned, to so•ealled excess. Opium in brief, fa one of the greatest gifts of Providence to the people of the tropics ; and not simply as a soothing adjuvant to the digestion of a vegetarian diet, such as that used by the Hiudoos, and a prophy ladle against malaria, through Its epeedut action 011 the perspiration, the only secre- tion it stimulates, but, above all, because its use, like that of tea, coffee feud tobacco, anticipates and allays the natural thirst of mankind for alcoholic stimulants, which certainly oan not be safely indulged in by the emotional people of Southern Asia and Africa, except with tate greatest dreams - pectin and carefulness," The same author- iby 5110we that opium is the most °conom. ice' of sblmnlants. Basing his estimate on the foot that while the English drink bill for 1801 was put at $700,000,000, the Chinese opium bill for the sane year was $1"35,000,000, he calculates that if opium were substituted in England for wino and spire's the bill for stimulants would bo $15,- 750,000, as against $700,000,000. Touching the administrative and economical Bides of the opium question, Sir George Birdwood, "holding that its habitual consumption is conducive to the health, wealth and Itap• piness of the inhabitants of the tropics, and more especially of those who ere vegotar. lane," advocates that the nnatufaeture of the drug should be freely thrown open to private 0uterpriee, and the duty on its ex. port raised as high as possible iu the in. tertropicai competition with ardent spirits to which it seems predestined. ' And within thirty years the whole imperial, provincial and feudatory expenditure of India might, in this way, be met out of the yearly increasing opium revenue, whilthe country itself would be left praotioally un- taxed." ABODT SDAICE POISON. Row the Millions er Natives or Indict Are A lit ief ed by PO 1401/011A Snakes. The destruction of life in India by polo - °nous snake bites is numbered well up into the thousands every year. This is dee partly to the vast number of venomous snakes in the country, and also to the lock of protection which the clothes of the na- tives fail to afford.. Various efforts have been made by the local and English goy - dements to exterminate the pests, but the bounties offered for the heads of poisonous snakes fail to reduce them to any appreci• able extent. The death rate continues great, and when a native is once bit- ten note of his friends attempt to help him, es they have no faith in any modern methods of counteracting the poison. Recently, however, medical at- tention has been directed to this subjsot, and considerable study and experiment have been made to ascertain the value of certain remedies for snnke.bites. Probably one of the most promising disooveries in this line is the so-oalled treatment of Baron von Muller. His treatmeut is simple enough, Itis the injection of strychnine under the skin close to the nerve centers that have been affected by the poison. Ac- cording to this theory the snake poison sim- ply suspends the action of certain nerves, and does not permanenbly'dsstroy the body tissues, Strychnine stimulates these nerves, and tots as an antagonistic agent to the poison of the snake. Ten to twenty minims of stryohnine are initiated every fifteen minutes until slight =settler spasms are detected, and this is the sign that danger is passer,, and larger doses of the poison can be administered. Ina great number of act- ual oases of snake poisoning in India he has had remarkable success, and the remedy promises to neutralize the dangerous action of snake poison in every country. Dunning a Mao-0'•War• Strange scenes marked the weighing of the anchor of a man•of-war helonging to a' South American Government at Toulon. It. ie said that the officers had contracted debts amounting to about 80,0001: in the southern naval seaport. Accordingly the • vessel before leaving the roadstead was sur• rounded by boatloads of exulted and clan. oaring creditors, who made attempts to get on board, but were threatened by the orew of the mato? war, Both officers and men, according to the report, said that they would prevent anybody entering the ship at the paint of the sword. The French coolcs and stewards, who had been hired for the mess room of the foreign men-of- war,then left the vessel, as they were afraid that they might receive batt troat- ment during the voyage. As the creditors. were ratable to get on board they had themselves rowed back to shore, and lodged a complaint with the justaco of the peace. A "writer" was despatched out to the foreign craft, but the captain refused to see him. Soon afterwards the man•of•war stood out to sea, and rho oreditors finding that the naval prefect of the port could do nothing for then resolved to bring choir grisvanoes to the notice of the Minister for Foreign Affairs. The Age of Pericles. Fame is always hard to define, and ie Often appears that the names of the greatest philosophers of old are unknown to many people. A gentleman was to deliver a leo. Lure upon the" Age of Pericles" in a coun- try town, and two of the citizens Were speaking of it. After a a few remarks' upon the leaturer, Air. Brown naked : " What are perielee, anyway, Smith ?" " WeIl, Brown, I don't exactly know, but it is some kind of shellfish." " Ob, yes I Theta, of course,' the age' has reference to the time they have been out of Water," meemreeemem YOUNG FOLKS. LOST ON THE btO/E• A T1at'h s't'amen. The ehttdove of a cold, bleak, stormy winter eveuiug of the true English sort ware corning down upon the hills and aceta of Yorkshire, when two boys—the taller of whonc carried on hits shoulder a small bag, which seemed to be well filled—Game scrambling into the deepening darkuese u ouu 0f the annex:et ridges, as if in haste to ger hare. And well aright they he 80, for they had had a long and hard days work, and were both beginning to foe/ very tired. Since early morning they had been out "Thomas ing," as the couutryfnllr in those parts cal it ; for it is a local custom for oho Yorkshire eillage lads to go front house to house o St. Theme's day ('30U December), singing carols and eolleethrg'"tlolne," which usually take the form of broad, ginger -cake, and cheese, with perhaps afow pennies, as With the Ruesian peesants on Christmas eve. On this occasion 0110 tn'a Young heroes had. made a nnelt larger daunt than usual, in order to melt two or tree outlying farm• houses et a oousiderablo distance from their own village ; and they wore well rewarded, for, to their great joy, they received a muoh larger dole then the• had ever had be. fore, which comprised halts dozen jam tarts hot from the oven, But all this took up a good deal of time, and when the boys ournecl their backs upon the Inst amt most distant hours, afternoon had already- waned into evening, and oveuiug was fast deepen. ing into night. 'Aa say, Diek, it bo coomin' on darn," said Tom, the elder of the two, to his con. sin Dick. " We'd best goo oop t' hill to t' wagonway teuvor the top ; that bet gainest [the best] way whoam. Diels agreed, and the two lade set off at their best speed up the ridge, 'fora, as the ebronger, taking the bag, which till then they had carried by turns, One by one as the night fell, the village lads straggled back from their quest ; bub Tom and Dick were not with them. Just at drat, however, no one, not even thole own parents, felt at all inclined to be anxioue about the missing boys. One or two of the comrades had heard then talk of going to visit some of Lim more distant farms, and it was taken for granted that they had dote so , and even when night came and brought no sign of them, the fancily merely concluded that they had been "put up" in one of these farmhouses for the night in the hospitable old north.00uu- try fashion, and would come home the first thing next morning, But when morning came, and still there was nothing to be seen or heard of the lost lads, the village folk began to be alarmed in earnest, and all who could be spared for the work set off in a body, with the fathers of the two boys at their head, to " beat" the upland moors for some trace of then. 'rho yotmg castaways were traded from lcouso to house easily enough as far as a farm called Stormy Hall, the last place at which they had called ; but here the search was brought to a sudden stop. No one in the house had any idea which way the boys had gone after leaving it, and the hearts of the anxious seekors died within them as ohey strained their eyes over the wild waste of bare hills, bleak moors, and pathless swamps, which lay outstretched around them on every eide,and thought of the long, cold, stormy night that the poor little wan• derers trust have spent in Oils grins wilder. nose without any shelter whatever. For snob fears, unhappily, there was only too good reason. SAY 20, 1$93 nn inemv.tnt firing of pistol•shote all around theta, 13ut the hardy bays, to whom a niglhe on the open moor was no new t)tiag',only lttugita ed at the rage of the storm (front which they were pretty welt protected by the thick lite and the over arching bank), and eel to week to dispose of the food wtbh which their day's round had lnekily sup. plied them, The ,join tarts, in which some warmth still lingered, were specially rolish- od, mat Tont, with hie mouth full of ginger- bread, doolared it to be tnaiu fine stint' on a metal noeglrt," Ir liter though our hernee were well defend. ed against the tempest, they heti no pro. teotion from the frost, and as the night wore it grew so bitterly cold that it seemed to freeze the very blood in their veins, and the reckless lade began to see the full peril • of thole position. With them, as with the 1 sufferers in the Black Holo of Caloutta, iL• was now merely a question of whether they I could koop alive till morning. By this time, however, the weary hor,. spent with fatigue and numbed with cold, wore in no ease to matte any fresh effort for their own safety. All that they could do wee to spread, the now empty canvas bag over as mucl(of their bodies as it tvotldcov- er, and then, nestling close together for warmth, they fell into a heavy sloop. The dawn of tie shorted clay in the year had not yet straggled through the blackness when Tont awoke. He fouml himself so still' end numb that he could hardly stand, and for some moments was Inlly occupied in warding leis Itatf•frozen blood by stamping his feet and flapping his arms. Then he 0:2110,1 to ifs cousin, but there 1005 110 an - ewer. " Dick 1" he ohoutod, bat poor Dick re- plied only with a faint groan. Ha was alive, however—that was sone• thing ; hitt what was 00 be done 7 Dick woo evidently failing fast, and would die if help were not, epoedily °ltained. But hew to obtain it? font felt that he could not walk a quarter of a mile to save his life, and there was little hope of anyone passing that lonely place, at 00 untimely an hoar. But just as the pool' lad was straining his I weary eyes through the gloom in silent dos- pet•atian, he caught circ tinkle of a small bell only a little way beyond him, and his practised ea' detested that it was not a sheep bell, but one of those the northern tea tuatara are wont to fasten to the harness of their horses. The wagon road that they lead sought in vain, then, must ile just above the spot where they had spent the night, and this must be re cart passing along i l+. Frantic at the thought of losing this last Lope, our hero gathered all his strength, and sent forth a yell worthy of a Comanche Indian. Hello !" shouted a hoarse voice, which, gruff and early as it was, seemed to our poor Tom, the sweetest sound he had ever hoard. lie trade toward it, anti gasping out the ono word " Dick I" fell fainting into the strong arms of a burly carter, who was on his way to Rosedale Pit for a load of coal. Assoon as Tom had regained his senses Itis anxiety about Dick returned, and lie re. hewed with better success his former at- tempt to tell what had become of his cousin, describing so aoeurately the spot in witch he hal left him that a messenger WW1 at once sent off with the news to the search party, which had by this time roached bite foot of the ridge that had sheltered our heroes. On hearing what Tom had told, the sook- eh•s went right up the ridge with all the speed that theyeouhl make, shouting with all their might as they went. But poor Disk was in uo ease to answer them, and they passed tight along the edge of the very hollow in mulch he was lying without see. ing or hearing anything of km. Bat just then a keen -eyed shepherd look- ed dowu tufo the Hollow and called 00 t •engorly, There he some o' yon ling as has been ploocked oop wi' fua;nf., and ye 11 find t' lad condor it for a guinea." All the rest flew itt Duce to the spot, and there, sure enough, they found, helpless and all but dead, the lost 'Dick, who being unable to seend, was carried home in art• umph, In the end, however, strauge to say, neither he nor his cousin seemed to bo any the worse for this terrible adventure. —rDavid Kerr in Harper's Young People. When the boys left Stormy Hall, they had gone briskly up the steep and slippery ridge above them, never doubting that they would soon find themselves on tato wagon track that ran along the brow of the hill, and be able to follow ,t 011 they came with- iu hail of thole own village, But fortune was against them, Tired ea they were, and cumbered with a pretty heavy bag to boot, this uphill struggle over wet and slippery ground was terribly exhausting, and every now and then they Dante to a broad belt of matted gorse and bracken, which: with. ered though it Was, was still no triuiog ob. staple to boys of their age and size. Ere long they were half way up the slope the last gleam of the red angry annset had faded from tho crest of the hill above then, and the old black gloom closed round them like the oreeping shadow of death, while the dreary moan of the rising wind foretold but too plainly the coming storm. Amid that rayless blackness even a man who knew the ground by heart might well have been ata loss to find his way; air] the boys, who had been there only two or three times before in their whole life, soon found themselves walu,ng quite at random (hav- ing neither moon mor star to guide them), and could hardly tell, es they stumbled over roots and donee, or fell sprawling into yawning rifts, whether they were gong up hell or down, To add to their troubles a oold rain now betas to fall, and the biting sweep of the wind (which was fast rising to te perfect gale) chilled them to. the very bone, wet as they already were from con- stant splashing through the marshy hol- lows.For some time they struggled blindly on in silence, neither of thorn daring to hinb to the other the hideous thought which had risen up the same moment in the minds of both ; but at length Utak, the weaker and less resolute of the two, said, gloomily, "No use, Tom ; we be boob!" '"I's thinkiu' so mysel'," replied Tom, as oheerily as he could, though itis ]heart sank at the fearful word ; "bub what if we be ? A neeght on 0' moor is 0a sie mighty mat. th,er, WVe man [mast] find some eholter, and when t' sun cents oop, we's goo whoam a'rest," But searooty Woro the roulette words tit• tared when a loud crash was heard, and the speaker found himself sprawling on his nese nn a deep grass grown hollow, while Dicke, ratable to stop himself, tumbled ah. Thodlong nextfter momeimnt, however, Tom picked hea himself pp again, and buret into a loud hearty laugh. Shelter,' says I, and here at be. We're a' roogitbnow, DIA, lad, This beyan [one] a' they hollows wleor ehe sheep ahelter in a 0)00[2. Lay thysel' Hoonunder the bank and I's cover thee oop." Dick purled himself pie under the shelter• ing hank, and' nestled into the ling that grew think and ltigh•ovar the whole hollow, while Tom, having gathered three or four armfuls of it and covered him well up, crept in beside bin. The German Government will not 1180 t White horses in the army M the future. Ito a battle the enemy can discern white horses s at a considerable distance, The Iargese bell in the World is in the Kremlin, "lOfosooty, Its Leight is 01 feet, dal in, bed t els chane fare,reo 07 feet, clinches. s lie weight la est ete:ad at 4•13;77"Lponntls• II. They wore 110110 too soon, far hardly had hey taken their /dams when the storm earth in all its fury, the wind howled and band t ricked, ano heavy hulloes of rain carpo wenn-teringmotored upon motored how]dcrs, or hiss011 amid the xvithorocl fern and dry heather; nod in the utter darkness the napping of the dead twigs broken oar aril w:ttr.ed n,'vay by the furious Meet Was like ATB HIS DAUGHTER. Ain Indian Cannibal o1' tbnebee Ate of Kb; tlk11d's merry to Keep. litnself From Perlthantt. A Quebec despatch says :—An Iudiau of the Mautagais tribe named Jocksbadjecks, residing in Ste. Marguerite, on the north shore below here, killed his wife and daughter and ate a good portion of the late tor. Some travelers passing by the Indian wigwam were horrified to find the goy re- mains of an Indian girl a little way off from the cabin. The body bore traces of strangulation, the face was black and oongested, the eyes bulged oat of their sockets, and in some parts of the body the flesh had been sliced off, and parts of the bones and intestines were laid bate. The Indian, when questioned, allowed that his wife and daughter lta'i died of hunger and misery and that he partoolt of the dealt from the body of his daoghter in order to alleviate the torments of hanger from whlolt he was dying himself. The travelers, however, suspected something else and bhonghb it very probable that the rase was one of tate extraordinary oases of cannibalism sometimes reported by hunters in far•olf plateaus ort the bordering heights of land, The Indian is being kept.uttder wallah and the district coroner will hold au inquest to determine, 0 possible, the cause of rite deaths. Story of a Family Bible, It is said that, some time ago, at a noble- man's house in the neighborhood of the tMarbleAroh, London, a dispute arose about a certain passage which was declared to bo Scriptural. A dean who was present deny ing that there was any such text iu rho Bible, the sacred volume wao oalled for. After considerableea s rob, a dusty old Bible, which had lain on the shelf since the death of the nobleman's mother, several years bo' fore,. Was produced. When the volume Was opened a bookmarker wee found in it, which, upon examination, proved to be a bank -post bill for £40,000, Why it had been placed there was never discovered; perhaps the old lady had thought it a good means of inducing her son to seartih the Scriptures. It Serves a Double Purpose, tie had jut folded up and pocketed the very voluminous railway ticket that seeme to be so necessary an evil of travel, able," T hope you'll find 02ory thin comfort a o said r the porter. I'tn a�raid it's a • little chilly in Pero." No danger about fee," was the. answer. " When Igot tit eller reading my railroad tioka' I can wrap myself up in it and go to shop,"