Evening Star Newspaper, February 27, 1892, Page 7

THE EVENING STAR: WASHINGTON. D.C. asic A FAMOUS WAR SONG. How “All Quiet Along the Potomac” Came to Be Written. A DRAMATIC WAR ROMANCE. ATragic Sequel to the First Battle of Bull Run—Maj. Fontaine, the Confederate Poet Seout—On Picket Duty Up the Potomac— Anteresting Correspondence. 2 for The Evening Star. E OF THE MOST remarkable characters brought to the surface the throes of the civil war was Maj. Lamar Fontaine, & famous scout and ighter in the confed- ate army. He acted s scout for Stonewall Jackson, J. E B Stuart, RE. Lee, B. & Ewell and Joe E. Jobn- son. He is also ‘cele- brated as hor of a popular war sox ;. He was and still is a Mississippian. He it was who, in May. 1863, undertook the seemingly foolhardy, but, nevertheless, successful, éx- ploit of carrying « supply of 40,000 musket caps from the confederate general Loring’s head- quarters at Jackson, Miss.. through the Union liues to beleaguered Gen. Pemberton in Vicks- burg, when that commander was out of caps, and, consequently, could not fire a gen; # con- dition of things which had Grant known of would have hastened the fall of that strong- bold. A NOTED scoUT. In that expedition Fontaine had horses shot under him and any quantity of bullets fired at him, making numerous holes in his clothes and equipage, besides meeting other frightful dan- gers. [t was, altogether, a terrible experience. He inthe hero of twenty-seven hard-fought battles, and came cut of the war minusa leg and bearing other evidences of his army ex- periences. He is still a resident of his native te, where, at the age of sixty- one, he works hard daily at his pro- fession of surveyor and civil engineer. Another thing for which he is celebrated is as the author —the real author—of the popular All Quiet Along the Potomac To- To be sure, that fact has been die . but I notice in a book of war songs published he is given the credit which to bim rightfully belongs. But it i not my purpose to go ito the dis- enssion of @ question in which the public is little, if any, interested. What I do care for is ly ipteresting narrative of a war-time episode in connection with the poem, as told in his recent correspondence with me. And this is the story: ON THE POTOMAC. It appears that not long after the first battle of Bull Run, in which Fontaine, as # private in company K—the Burt Rifles—eighteenth Mississippi regiment, took part, he was trans- ferred to the second Virginia cavalry, and at the time of which this narrative tr was doing pieket duty just above the head of an island near the Seneca Falls on the Potomac. This was in August, 1861, one month after Bull Ran. So many of the confederates had gone home on furlough that the picket lines were thin, being stretched over a vagt extent of Fiver front, and what few men, comparatively, were on the front had to do double duty. MAJOR FONTAINE. It was here that Fontaine ani another pri- vate named Moore formed a close friendship. Moore was a married man and fairly idolized his wifeand their two beautiful yonng children. Moore and Fontaine were almost constantly together, whether on picket or guard duty They clung to each other. They bonght little hand books of poems—Byron, Burns and others—and together they would sit in the cool shade of trees or hanging rocks that lined the Potomac above the Falls of Seneca and read aloud to each other passages from their favor- ite authors, At this section of the two army lines the pick- eteon either side of the waters, federal and confederate, had come to an understanding and agreement ‘that there should be no firing a each other while on picket duty. And but fu a treacherous violation of this contract by « federal soldier the incident herewith related would not have occurred and “All Quiet Alony the Potomac Tonight” would never have been written. I give the story in Fontaine's own graphic words: Ow Picker DUTT. “We had to stand ona post six hours ata time. That night I took my stand at 6 o'clock, and Moore retired to rest. The nights were chilly and we usually kept some fire burning. ‘There was a small spring of water close by and large fallen pine tree that I used to sit on Test at times after walking my beat. and I have frequently stopped at the spring and bathed my face when the dread monotony of the still night had a tendency to lull me to sleep. As sooa as I found that midnight had arrived I stepped to the fire and threw on some Pine knots and roused Moore to take my place. OFF DUTY FOREVER “He rose slowly, picked up his gun, stepped to the fire and stretched himself, as a sleepy soldier will, and gaped and yawned, and while bis arms were extended and his hand grasping the barrel of bis gun there was a fi the river and the whiz of a bullet, and he sank to the earth with a hole just above his eye on tue lett »: from which tlowed a dark crimson tide. Nota word, not a groan escaped him. “I removed his remains from near the fire Where he had failen. Aad as I did so my eyes on the telegraphic column of a newspaper, ad it was headed ~All Quiet Along the Potomac enight.” And, oh, how truthful it was! It was certainly all quiet with me and with bim whom I loved as « brother. “Leoult not help shedding tear, and my thoughts reverted to bis home, his wife and his aliten and to the falsehood told by those whose guest I bad been and whose treachery hadeaused bis death, and they grew bitter, demon of vengeance aro-e in my heart which was not stilled until the white dove of peace had spreat her snowy pinions over the whole face of the laud, and the bombshell crom the sward the plaything of a b across HOW THE SoG WAS WAITTEN. “When morning dawaed the words of that Bewspaper were burned in my brain. They Tang im my ears and were painted om every scene that met my view. I put my triend’s effects together—bis letters, sword, hat and all and expressed them to his wife, with a true nd perfect desertpuion of his death. And waule { stood beside bis cold form and gazed at bis marble fuce aud glazed eyes, in the un- broken slence of my lonely watch, I felt what few mortals ever feel in this shadowy vale. I peaned the outlings of the poem then and tkere, but not as they uow appear, for the first Were biting aud sarcastic. 1 read the crude sepy to Orderly Sergeant W. W. Williamson, who was a fine critic, and Lieuts. Graham and Depritt of my company. and Williamson sug- gested that if I would only make it more pa- thetic instead of sarcasiic it would take better. “I did so and on the 9h of August I had it complete as the poem now stands, and I read it to my messmates and received their highest commendations, I gage them copies of the original and they recopied and sent them home, ‘aad soon the whole regiment, brigade, division aod army were in possession of it. father, whom 1 met shortly after the completion of it, suggested that instead of “atray picket’ I ought to say ‘lone picket.” Bat I did not alter it. The ladies of Leesburg, in Loudoun county, Va., put the words to music and used to sing them for us long before they were printed. J gave one copy to a Miss Eva Lee and one toa Hemastone; also a copy to Jobn M. Orr, who atthe time was mayor of the town. I gave copies to many others whose names I cannot reeail.* The toliowing isa copy from the ORIGINAL POEM. “Al! quiet atone the Potounac.”*they say, EAtept here and there a stray picket Stee walky-on his bent Yoand fro, i ifeuan hid ia the Caicket.™ s By ht, iors liv peacefully dreaming; rays of the clear autumn moom, Or in the light of their camp fires gleauing. sigh as a gentle night wind iy the sound of the lone sentry’ ps frou the rock to the fountain, he two on the iow trundie bed, ‘Far away in the cot on the mountain. His musk # falls back—and his f and grim tie with memories tender = prayer for the children asi uiother “inay heaven detend ler! ine as brightly as then, n the love yet tnspoken and when iow murmured vows ‘ever unbroken. Thea, drawing his sleeve rourh!y o'er his eyes, Aug dagheull ten that are wellinee ind wathers his wun close Up toes piace, ‘As i to keep down the heart swelifase He panes the fountain. the blasted pina tree; ves throuzh the broad belt of Ii a ades of the forest vo dreary. ao ‘Hark! was it the night wind rustled the losves? Was it moonlight so wondsously flesisine’ It jooked like a rifle~""Ha! Mary) cool-bs And the life-biood is ebbing aud pleshing. All quiet along the Potomac tontcht; No sound save the rsh of the QveF: While sot rats the dew tn tho ie of the dead That picket's off duty forever! * Upward of thirty years have olapsed since the scene was enacted which in pired the pvem, and this soldier-poet, this whilom cham- pion of a “lost canse,” touchingly writes me that “the glory he fought for has faded; that he carey nothing for what is in the eternal past and hus no enmity in bis heart, but loves the soldiers who wore the biue and fought to main- tain the Union.” Cuantzs O. STICKNEY. THEIR MARRIAGE A LOTTERY. A Nebraska Widow and = Wyoming Kanch- man Join Hearts Sight Unseen. Lincoin Letter to Omaha World-Herald. Mrs. Mary M. Stevens of Lincoln was married the first of the week at Grand Island to Nelson Wetson of Cheyenne. The marriage was the outcomeof a strangecorrespondence. A friend of Mrs. Stevens is in the employ ot Nelson in Cheyenne, and suggested to him one evening that he knew of @ woman who would make him an excellent wife. Nelson agreed if the fair creature should prove acceptable and could be won to marry her. He immediately wrote to Mrs. Stevens, setting forth that he was the owner of a large and paying ranch, was well off in the world and wanted some one to share his lot and help eat his potatoes. The lady was not averse to embarking in the matrimonial sea for a second time, and agreed that if every- thing was as r ted and the man was of & good moral character she would assent. s! fully satisfied on these points and immediately considered themselves cn- Business interests prevented Nelson leaving home long enough to come to Lincoln and he did not wish to be so ungaliant as to compel his betrothed to go to him, so they compromised and agreed to meet at Grand Island. Monday Mrs. Stevens left for Grand Island, where the couple met for the first tim Both considered that they had secured a bi in and were made one at once. Yesterday a letter was received in this city bride, in which she says that he is just glorious and too sweet for anything. —— Hypnotism and Humbug. From the Nineteenth Century. Hypnotism, which is now the subject of much intelligent and well-directed modern research, and is also, unfortunately, the plaything of « class of wandering stage performers, is the lineal descendant of many ancient beliefa. It was known to the earliest races of Asia and among the Persian magi; and to this day the yogzs and fakirs of India throw themselves into a state of hypnotic ecstasy and reverie by fixa- tion of the gaze. In many convents of the Greck church it has been practiced since the eleventh century, as it is still by the Omphal- opsyehies, with whom hypnotic reverie ix ob- tuned by steadily gazing at the umbilicus. Modern hypnotism, mesmerism, telepathy, animal magnetism, thought reading or thought transference are of the family which, in earlier nd when men were less wont to analyze phenomena by rational methods, brought forth the practices of the magians, the antics of the demoniacs and the possessed, the expulsion of evil spirits by exorcism, the healing of the king’s evil by laving on of hands, the serious acceptance and judicial punishment of the hallucinations of the witches and the fantastic cruelty of the witch finders. The proceedings by which Sarchas, the faithful companion of Apollonius, gave sight to the bind, movement to the paralyzed, hearing to the deaf and reason to the insine were essen- tially methods of what we should now call ‘suggestion,’ and the application of the in- fluence of suggestion to persons in the most various mental and physical states, whether of health or disease. will serve to throw light on some of the most tragic, blood-stained. pictar- esque and incredible pages of history, as well ason a multitude of stage tricks and quack rocedures, which are just now, as they have Bocn at frequent intervals daring the last on tury, much im vogue. —_—$§<eo—___ Early American Explorers. From the Beacon. But centuries prior to the Columbian epoch the Scandinavian voyagers, it is well known, coasted along the shores of the northwestern ocean. The Northmen were certainly on the Island of Cape Breton. a8 the Norse names show: they were cruising about like corsairs from A. D. 1000 to 1347. In the fifth century the Chinese sent forth a Buddhist monk or mis- sionary named Hoci-Shin, who, it is believed, visited Mexico, but nothing of importance is related of him. A diligent student of the sub- ject of Scandinavian discovery, as given in their Eddas and Sagas, thus ‘writes: “Prof. ntiquitates Americans,” gives no- tices of numerous Icelandic voyages to Ameri- can and other lands of the west. The exist- ence of a great country southwest of Green- laud is reterred to, not as. matter of specula- tion merely. but as something perfectly well known. Let us remember that in vindicating the Northmen we honor those who not only give us the first knowledge possessed of the American continent, but to whom we are in- debted besides for much that we esteemed valuable. This is emphasized by the fact that Coiuzabus bad no direct idea of seeking an un- known western contizent, his avowed pur- pose having been to find a northwest passage to India. Columbus was, doubtless, not only acquainted with the results attained by these northern explorers, for be made excursions with them, and also visited Iceland in the year 1477. It is therefore more than probable that he becam fully acquainted with the then status of geo- gtaphicai knowledge. It is proper here to mention that there is in the Astor library a copy of @ rare work, which exhibits the exact condition of geographical science at that time; it is the “Cosmographia” of Ptolemy, printed at Rome in 1475. It is at this time, especially a work of peculiar interest, when everythin, pertaiming to the story of the discovery of, BELLAMY. THE COMPLEX MYSTERY OF VIGO SQUARE. WRITTEN FOR THE EVENING STAR BY JAMES PAY, (Copyrighted. } CHAPTER L MY OWN MYETIFICATION. R PULLEN Was A rich man. He had made his money in California nines and had come to London to spend it. He had worked the pick with his own hands, a circumstance which had caved him to be ex- cluded from the sensi- tive “society” of his country. But London cares nothing for these matters. It takes peo- ple, both in a good and an ill sense, for what thef are worth, and asks no questions about either their relatives or their antecedents. It welcomed Mr. Pullen because he was a hos- Pitable fellow, and Mrs. Pullen because she was good natured and took so kindly to the Prosperity that had befallen her. If it had been told by any mischievous person that Mr. Pullen had been a practical miner it would probably have said that it was an argument in favor of early marriages, and if it had known better would not have cared. Indeed, though their old neighbors may have “fought shy" of this excellent couple, we ac- knowiedged their merite, and had no objection, so long as it was at home, to cultivate, or at ali events make use of their acquaintance. Hence it happened that when I got my first clerkship at Messrs. Bullion & Ingots I got an introdue- tion from my people to the Paliens in London. We believed—and they even believed them- selves—that they were in London, but the fact was that though their residence could hardly be called suburban, they were not quite ii what is humorously termed “the village. They were @ good way off from my lodging in King street, St. James, and I did not often take advantage ‘of their hospitality, though it was generously tendered. ‘The pecpie one met at their dinner table were like themselves, middle aged. and not mueh to my youthful mind, 1 think they were financial people with whom Mr. Pullen had had commercial relations, and they talked of matiers I did not understand. If | there had been daughters in the family it would doubtless have been different, und Ishoul@ have joined the lawn tennis parties I often saw playing in the public gardens at the back of Vigo square, but there were no young people to attract me. Moreover, I must honestly add there was another reason which disinclined me to much [intimacy with the Pullens, or rather another | cause, for it could hardiy be called a reason; | it was Bellamy, their butler. ‘To those who have not read’ David Copperfield, it m incredible that any young gentleman should be made uncomfortable by somebody el butler. Dnt then Iwas very young. and Bellamy made me know it. He was solemn, sedate and intensely respectable. One has heard of but- lers who look like bishops but this one looked like an arcubishop. He had been recom- mended to the Pullens on their arrival in town and been with them ever since. Mrs. Pullen once described him to me as a perfect treasure, but I think she was secret Tam quite sure her bus! tried to persuade himse! by love and not fear. ance | thought that perhaps L his master hac that was actuated On our first acquaint- my had found been a’ mimer and y got the upper hand of him. His places had been (or be suid they n) in great establishments with per- sons of title, and { believe it was that -absurd circumstance which mainly weighed with the simpie couple, and estab- lished the man’s authority in the household. He ried it, not indeed with a rod of iron, but as it were with apastorel staff. ‘fhere was an unctuous diguity about him which would have adorned the very highest ecclesiastical position. But what I objected to was what in those salad days I called lis infernal patronage. He made me feel so very, very young. and when I re- sented it, made me feel younger. I have own him at a dinner ‘party give me winegiass less than other people. It may have been an accident, but I firmly believed it to be a hint not to mix my liquors; and once when I looked in at luncheon time he omitted to give meanapkin, as though [were not an adult. J aw asuamed to say that Bellamy was certainly “a cause,” as old Burton calls it, why my visite to the Pullens were so few and far between. Tt was with come feeling of pcnitence and re- morse indeed that after a very long interval I started one September afternoon to call in Vigo square. iknew I ought to have done so time within the last two months, and also that I was doing it then because almost all my other fricuds were out of town and I couid not afford to be so particular as at other times in my choice of hospitalities. A good dinner at oid Fulien’s, even though Bellamy might re- proach me from the sideboard w:th my youth and inexperience, was betier than dining alone lence smote me that hospitable door to find s hearse and a couple of mourning carriages fore it! Either poor Pullen or his wife (for, Ihave said, they had no family) were evi- dently about to be tuken to their long home. Indeed, even while I looked the coftin was brought out, and after it was borne away I saw Bellamy in the portico deeply but respect- ably affected, and waving a farewell blessing tothe lameuted remains. I was not more un- charitable than most men of my age (with whom cynicism is only popular because they think it’ sign of maturity), but the reflection will say, to command three-fourths enough, ales! thom success on the but, miarter consisted of mimetic. ability. and the had not a particle. He roomed next to ‘and we became somewhat intimate, “He told me of his arduons ractice as an amateur actor, and how the # fous sp) his friends had befooled him into the that » t professional career was possible to him. fro tola me, also, of his failure under the test conditions of « role ina ir drama before s regular audience. He said that the manager had him to enact a not im- portant yet aristocratic young lover, and, looking at his fine al Ld aria and bearing, I could ready unde id why his application for the employment had been successful, in spite of the fact that he was novice. But his suitable aspect had not availed him much, in the absence of all facility in act- ing, and he had dropped, after one week of fruitless endeavor to improve his porformance, down into assignments to “‘utility” parte. For this comparatively ignoble service he received only £3 8 week. He was living snugly, not to say meanly, on that scant income when he and I'fell m with each other. His outward man gave no'sign of inward trouble, however, for his wardrobe was still excellent, and his aristocratic air was unimpaired. — was while in a state of dejection, old fel- low,” said Frank to me one day, “that I made up my mind to become arascal—a fortune hun- ter—a what rod call in America ‘confidence man.’ Oh! I did, indeed. Of course I can urge that it was a sudden and powerful temptation that I yielded to, but the fact that I did yiel stands against me. ‘This is the way it happened: Being hard up awhile ago, I was glad one day to get a chance to sing and recite at a private houre. Ht was no great affair, elac my small talent wouldn't have been satisfactory. The young lady who played a piano accompaniment to my teeble songs was a Miss Pullen—a Miss Polly Pullen. Do you know her?” An exclamation ‘of surprise on my pert had caused Frank to ask the question. ‘ihe name of Pullen had caught my ear on account of my acquaintance with the Pullens of Vigo square, but, as I knew that they had no daughter and had no relatives in England, I concluded at once that I didn't, and couldn't, know a Miss Pullen. ‘ “It's your misfortune that you don't know her,” Frank resumed, “‘and it is my misfortune that Ido. Listen. She wasthe gentlest, sweet- est, loveliest creature you can imagine. I try to think it was partly love at first sight and not altogether diabolical scoundrelism that made me deceive her. Yew, did deceive her. ‘This is the way it came to pass: She overheard some- body utter the name of Count D’Arcey. You've heard of him? ‘The French nobleman who would be wealthy if he could cash up his an- costral richuess of lineage, perhaps, wlio is poor of pocket because no such financial operation is possible. Howeve:, he has rela- fives with fortunes, and I believe they make & sufficient allowance to him to enable him to live in idleness. Now, by sume accident, Miss Pulien thought the name was addressed to me. By a strange sequence to that accidenfshe was Jed to believe thas I wax Count D’Arcey. Now,my dear boy, 1 ask you to believe that Thad at the time no deliberate intention to profit by the mistake further than to bask temporarily in the sunshine of that dear girl's smile. only knew her on that oceasion as Miss Martin, an American, and I assumed that she was a guest. But before the evening Was over she told me that she was a paid enter- tainer. I shouidn't have known it, for her puano playing aud her singing, aithough pre: ood. were no better than one comes across in drawing rooms often. Why, ob, why, was 1 not correspondingly frank? Why didn’t I tell her that I was only Frank Baxter, a no-account actor, earning a fee of £37 Because I was in love with her and I feared that to tell her the truth wonld disenchant her. So I let her go ou under the misapprehension that 1 was Count D'arcey. When we bade each other good night I nudaciousiy begged the privilege of further acquaintance. What was the ase of being a Count D'Arcey if i wasn’t to obtradc myself on a pretty professional vocalist when 1 chose to? But she repulxed my advances kindly but firmly. She wouldn't give me her address aud she deprecated any informality or precipitancy of acquaintance. At length, be- ing persisiently pressed, she admitted that she might be at the academy picture show on a certain atternoon a week later. “Did you meet her there?” [ asked of Frank. “Do two and iwo make four?” he responded, “In this case,” said I, ‘probably one and one will make oue. “I thought it would, and it did,” said Frank ruefully, “but I went to the picture show and soon came across Miss Pullen, She was accom- panied by her mother, who neither frowned nor smiled on our renewal of acquaintance, which ripened rapidiy, I assure you. Why, Polly aud I were lovers at once. We looked the pictures two or three hours without reaily seeing them, and at parting she said—shyly yet alluringly—that I might call owher at ber home ia Vigo square.” “Frank Baxter,” interrupted, yor I know the P 5 e they?” family from America.” jo L won learned. I was astonished when I paid my first visit to find myself in a lux urious residence. ‘Then, seeing curiosity de- picted in my face, Polly expinined that ehe wasn’t # professional singer, as she had mis- chievously led me to believe. but an only duughter of the Puilens. In short, she was a eat American heiress. If you know the Pul- fens you must know her. “I never heard of a daughter,” I insisted, but Frank described the house unmistakably, He said that Mr. Pallen had gone on a trip to the continent, leaving his wife and daughter in the cuarge of a trusty butler. I exclaimed, “Bellam “Bellamy,” my friend echoed. “Y creature. Why, one day J found hira iustructing the ladies. Yes—actually—he stood before Mrs. and Miss Pullen, who sat almost meekly in their chairsund was delivering xome- thing that, judging by the few words I heard, Wasa lecture on America pronuuciation and manners, Of course he stopped instantly 1 entered and all three seemed a bit flustered. I didn't ike Ballamy.” ne Impulsively I grasped Frank's hand and shook it warmly. © ~-But I don't deserve to hold an honest hand, old man,” he said. “I never confessed to Polly n't any Count D'Arcey—that I was an ‘what are ullens of Vigo did strike me that I had never seen a more hypocritical looking scoundrel in my life. As to asking him any question in conuection with the mournful occasion it vever entered my mind to do so; it would have seemed a wron; to the memory of either host or hostess, ard came away without knowing which of’ them had departed, though with sincere sorrow for the event itself. In the papers I could find nothing about it, and we bad no common friends, so there was nothing for it but to wait @ decent interval and then call with “kind inquiries” This dutiful attention was puts stop to ina very unexpected manner in # fortnight afterward by my meeting Pullen himself in the city. “It must bave been his poor wife, then,” was my first thought, and yet, though he looked less beaming tuan usual, he was scarcely so cast down as devotedusband who had so re- cently become a widower ought to have been, and moreover he was not in mourning. On catching sight of me he smiled rather feobly (or, as F thought, coldly, as well he might, con- y long negiect of him), and ex- Why, you are quite a stranger. How long is it vince you were at Vigo square?” It was really more than three months since I had crossed his threshold, but I had been to the square, as I have said, and I thought it best to rest.my excuses at once upon » solid basis. “The fact is, my dear Mr. Pullen, I did Inst month so far as your house, but under circumstances—it was on the i8th” (he would surely remember the date I thought to myself) surely 30 tho America is engaging so largely the popular| Amd why'ahoud yoanot have gone in?” be attention; since Columbus, undoubtedly, must | inquired airily. “Glad to see you, lam sure, have kuown of its existence and availed bimself of its aid while cherishing his great enterprise. Bat, judging by the standard it presents of the maritime knowledge and skill of that time, they were not such aa to deprive him of the honor of originality in projecting an enterprise which demanded those extraordinary elements of character which be possessed—persistency, enthusiasm and undaunted bravery—for its accomplishment. The northern voyagers, who seom to have been coasting in the northwest- ern seas some five centuries before Columbus— said to have had genius for discovering new countries by accident, as in the instances of Iceland and Greenland, which latter coun- ty they held some 400 years. The Scandi- navians were accustomed to regard as their historians their Skalds, and were fond of listen- ing to their poems ‘aud the legends of their Sagamen. Collections of these ancient relics are now in the royal library st Copenhagen. A Black Eye for Aluminum. From Industwies. Another stone has been cast at aluminum as an efficient substitate for better known mate- rial According to Herren Lubbert and Roscher it caunot be used for articles which have to withstand the action of water at its boiling point, and consequently is not suitable for vessels intended to hold preserved foods, as these have commonly to be heated in order to sterilize their contents. The same experi- menters also find that such mildly corrosive liquids as claret, tea, coffee and brine act on it appreciably. As it is also at! by phenol, salicylic acid and boric acid it is un- cS for Purposes. the at any time. “But on so melancholy an cecasion—a domestic calamity, my dear sir.” “What the deuce do you mean? I have had no domestic ealamity.” Hi sili I thought this very cruel, and, indeed, of old Pullen, for hie wife’ had’ been 6 very nice person, and he had always seemed to be very fond of her. : ‘Well 1'don' know what you call it, but I saw the standing at your door and the brought out and put into it” “You you?” said, very grave — earnest. “You saw ops iy did you?” “Most “Indeed?” He looked very thoughtful and depressed, like one who has received worse news than he is prepared for. “Well, my young friend, be so good as not to say anything about it till you hear from me.” He shook my band with nervous energy and hurried away. I had wronged the old fellow. It was evident hat so far from being unmoved by the calamity that had befallen him it had unhinged mind. Otherwise he could never have doubted what I bad told him of the 18th of ber and begged me, almost in the same breath, to keep the matter a secret. ine ' CHAPTER IL impostor. I welt on with a rapid courtship, and in @ week wo were engaged to be married. I suggested an immediate wedding; she assented. It was to havo been a private, quiet affaic. Bellamy managed it. We were noteven to wait until Mr. Pullen returned. A brict ceremony at the house was to heve been fol- fowed by a short visit to Paris. You're going to ask how I expected to escape an exposure ut my talse use. I didn't know. All was a whisk and a whirl. 1 loved Polly madly. I loved her fortune, too—no use denying that. Really, I believe it was Bellamy that precipi- tated things. Poor Mrs. Pullen! She seemed to be clay molded by his hands. Ah! she is clay now indeed. She's dead.” “Dead!” I ejaculated, and then I added: “Yes,” L know. 1 happened to see her breught out of the house in a coffin.” “Bhe died very Conor ae Frank continued. “A quiot funeral was held. Bellamy managed that, too. Did Mr. Pullen seem deeply grieved?” “He wasn’t there. “Didn't even come home to attend his wife's funeral? The hard-hearted old stone “Bellamy got a telegram from Mr. Pullen, I believe, telling him not to delay burial— that he couldn't possibly. come. Of: course that measodd. But [ had something else to think of. Polly was grief stricken. After the funcral she pressed » sealed letter into my hand and, between sobs, conjured me not to open it until I bad reached my own lodging. Here it is.” showed me the note, which read as follows: “We cannot marry. I have not the heart to write more than that our engagement is broken and that we must not meet sgn Frank took the missive back from me. it tenderly, and said: “Of course she had dis- covered the truth about me somehow. Oh, Jeremy Diddier that Tam! I deserved to lose “Did you never go te Vigo are again?” “To what purpose? No, 41 submit to pun- fahment. "That's all” *” eA CHAPTER IL ‘THE SURVIVAL OF MRS. PULLEN. Tt was only the next day after I heard Frank Baxter's narrative, and a after my street meeting with Mr. Pullen, that the millionaire invited me to dine in Vigo square. I accepted the invitation out ‘of pity for the lonely wid- ower—he had written, “You will excuse there ural inclination; the house had never been very attractive to me, and without its kindly hostess T felt it would be less so than ever. But if dinners in Vigo square had been rather dull it was fated that this one should restore the average in the way of sensation. In first. placo it was rather » shock, though ve Fe See s the door opened ‘or the life ag $ = | FEBRUARY 27, 1892—SIXTEEN PAGES. ES yout mage 138 time it is ince we have seen semuch. ‘Twas with the old one I bargained, Tdi eae you know.” 'y how much longer I had ex- “Yea, I kn: and this time guessing was ened raperanon fash afer Iwas too | eass. “Tho. young lady is bayoud.Teprosch, tho ay any thi except that ‘tinely in love with the ,” she amile, “without indeed. “But you count, and permitted herself to be led into the game by you and her mother; but in her be- might, Feavement she repented of her purpose, and me, though pr did” ot call: did ou | tated to deceive your victim farther : F me, | Bellam: poppe gricaeghed outrig tine very qmounted to's collapse, im ‘which state I left What could be the meaning of itall? she| My next step was to find Miss Rowsby. Hav- Rechte Se ot aoe Wein | MEon eget os aay ible that she a Ure ure that fatal deyeed lost some other told her who and what he was. “Confess to him,” I said to and she told him who and wnt coeane They dro; simal on their knees to beg deen enough Topte {han the other to warrant recrimination, neither was wicked tobe unfor- Firadle, | Besides, meegheny tid in love. ey will marry in a month, and seek their for- Tt was a great relief to mew) us. He looked graver than = a distressed as when Thad last seen hug, Tot 2 noticed that he was Ore affections endl wife even than usual, a8 though the = eed of moral support. We three say gore, 2 y excellent dinner (where I bad my ‘prone allowance of wineglasses and a napkin) P,ohet tunes enjoyed it all the more that Bellamy wa, together on the American stage. there to patronize me, and convey his pity tor Rimate iene Saaaee my youth and innocence in his every ac Duc of courte, I missed him as O00 misty other things which one does not regret. It's dinuer in Vigo sqqre without him not ike Hamlet without the prince, it wae at least like Hamlct without the king. | His majesty's absence was most discernible. Whef the des- sert had been put on tho table and the new man withdrawn I could no longer restrain my A Naked Maniac’s Fatal Run Threugh Tor turing Beds of Cactas From the San Francisco Chronicle, Fatly this morning the nude body of «man it found on the Cahuenga branch of the San Fernando wagon road, about twelve miles from os Angeles, just south of Burbank and near curiosity. the Los Angeles river. A nuzber of people “And what,” I inquired, “my dear Mra. Pal- s00n A Jen, has become of your’ excellent Bellamy? ing o netted around the body, and after hold- hurried consultation the remains were It was the husband who answered. covered with “Bellamy was kicked out,” said Mr. Pullen, “and 1 did it.” 5 Mr. Pullen swelled perceptibiy with pride at the mention of his achievement; still, he was @ smallish may, while Bellamy was a big one, and I suppose my face expressed surprise as well as delight. “Don't be hard upon him—I mean upon my husband,” said Mrs. Pullen, ina gentle, plead- Pieces of old carpet and sacksand don was notified. The coroner The body was lying inthe middle of the road, and for several hundred yards from’ the spot wliere the body was found the dirt was ploughed up, showin, i i i that the dead man bad ing voice. ‘His confidence has been mis- | failen down number of ty Maced und abused. I know you never liked | around in the most Sonoma pawed ‘His last he died, and from must have been ter- amy; our sense of loss, the breaking down of our belief in him, will be unintelligible to ay T looked at my three wineglasses, in doubt as to what reply I ought to return; I looked at my napkin. and felt wure in what ‘direction duty pointed. “uy opinion of that man, my dear madam, was a very bad one,” 1 said. “I know it,” she answered, quietiy; “we shouid therefore not say anything to’ you struggle took place when the looks of the ground it rible. The poor wretch had plox 5 into the ground until it was hore intend and his arms and hands were badly brammeed scratched, but the fest part of the thing is that there wore no indications that a second | person was present. ‘There were no other tracks in the vicinity than those made by his bare feet, and it te fought with any one the person musi have bene against him now, but that we owe it to you to tell you ali, since it is, thanks to you, that his wrong-doing hks been revealed to us.” Thanks to me’ I was glad to hear it;it seemed a very just sort of “Nemesis” if it happened but I conid not conceive how it had happened, and I gaid so. on horssback. An examination of his limbs showed that he had passed through several beds of cactus, for his legeand body were lit- erally fuil of cactus thoras, and the blood must | have flowed freely from his numetous wounds until death released him. ———== 4 MEMORY SPUR THAT Pare, QUEER BOATS’ FOR SAVAGES. Alaskan Indians NO PEOPLE 1x THE WORLD ARE MORE dependent upon poats than are the natives of southeast Alsska. They live in a region aa pra pete talaga eee “Oh, no,” suid the otbor; “don't have aay y bout it.” islands of the Sitkan archi; The land | fear about a offers little to reward thersor se verseverance| “Well.” remarked No. 1, “4 thoucht there of the hunter and supplice of food and other | Would be no harm in a gentle reminder. “But® mefiorandum is better than « me From the New York Tribnne. “Thope you won't forget that,” said ome friend to ancther, referring to « commission which the second was to execute. “I guess habit. Now, do you know shat £ tence, indeed, would | that isa good 4 things which beasad problem for him were it not for this | bares method of remembering adjanct of his own creation. Upon ite con- | 1 40n't want to forget, but the trouble ie that struction he lavishes the best of his thought, | it doesn't always wor tho acightot his manssl chill ond bis ticetsss| Seite tenia MeR patience. The result is the fashioning from a te « Beye Single log of a little vessel which challenges ad- ell, you see, | habitually wear iton my miration for its fine outline, ite seaworthiness and ite strength. “ So saysareport about to be issued by the | left hand, but when there is any special thing United ‘States fish commission written by |that I wish to remember—sa, for Capt. J. W. Collins. The author goes on | Some errand that my wife has asked me to ée toremark that the Indians of the Sitkan re- | on my way down town—it is my custom to take eo, in mode!ing their canoes, have apparently | the ring off and put it on the ~ ¥ intuition solved successfully the difficult | finger of the other hand. Now, doesn’t Problem of least resistance, buoyancy and | *'Tike you as an exceedingly simple m a requisite stability—qualities essentially neces- | STscing and fortifying one’s memory? I use@ sary in a working boat, but the proper combi- |‘ think so. [don't now as muchas I did. Fer nation of which has often put to the severest times now I have a whole world of trouble test the constructive skill of the most expe- | ' ‘Ying to remember what it is that I want to rienced white man. All the tribes of that re- | Te™ember. Jt isn’t always that way, but it sometimes, O: course the unaccustomed feel~ ing of the ring on the wrong Singer reminds me that (here is something on my mind, and #0 o@ some Occasions the burden becomes positively heavy. I have worn that ring on my righ? hand for two ot three days at « time, now then, vexing my brain all the time te find wha I may perliaps term the missing link. Ite B® fun, T assure you.” “Your experience i very interesting,” sal adopt d any such method mysell “Do you see this fold, bend on the gion use dugout canoes, the size of which varies from ten feetto The usual more than thirty feet in length. ngth of a fishing canoo is from fif- feet. A species of pine is util- extent in the manufacture of such craft. The wood is light, durable and worked very readily. Unfortunately itis apt to split. This constitutes the native's chief anx- iety. He keeps his boat covered with mats and brush whenever it is bauied out of water in order to avoid such a misfortune. No. 2. “I have never a8 you describe, though I often enuelder Laponiovs work. = . Before the introduction of iron tools the S—or the other thing —with what Mr. Beecher used to call « ‘good forgettery.’ The only safe role with me is to make a note of wha I wish to keep in eee = ore Tung, and then as I refer to my note book I usually manage oe] along without any bed blunders. I meee | much — 4 the methods of Impro: the memory which various professors give inserue> tionsin, though, not having actualle tele I may not do them full Justice. The fact that my memory used to bo a good deal betteg than it is now. “When I was in college 1 hed am, Al memory. It was the wonder of all mg classmates. I took more prizes than am else had ever done up to that time, le because I eould cram easily and remembes making of a canoe was a work of enormous difficulty. The hatchets used were of stone and the chisels were of mussel shells ground to» sharp edge. It required much time and labor to cut down a large tree for the purpose, and it was only the chiefs, with a number of slaves at Sueir disposal, who attempted such operations. Their method was to gather round a tree as many as could work and these chipped away with their stone hatchets until the tree was lit- erally knawed down. ‘Then to shape itand hol- tow it out was a tedious job and many » month Would intervene between the felling of the tree Noone in the neighborhood could identity him, “On the way back to the elty the coroney and his assistant stopped every one they met and had them view the face, but no one had ever seen the dead man before, and unless something is found in his clothing which can be recognized lus identity will never be dis- covered. The man is five and « half feet in height and blonde, with a short chin beard and mustaches. He is cither a Germau_or Russian Fiau and seems to be about forty-five or fifty years of age. He had the appearance of @ laboring wan in good health. He was power- fully built and had rather a good face. Shortiy after the coroner reached the city he received a message that the man’s clothing had been found. ‘The officers at Burbank followed the dead man's tracks about four miles fiom Where his body was found and discovered what at fist appeared to be a newly made grave. he dirt was thrown up in the shape of « grave anu it had evidently been made only a few nours before. On opening it they found » suit of clothes which evidently belonged to the dead man, but the message did not state whether or not any papers were found by which the man may be idcatitied. He had no tools with which to dig a hole and must have used his fingers, for the nails are terribly torn and show that he dug the hole ike «dog und then placed bis clothes in it, in- hatand shoes. The ground is hard nd it must have taken him severs! hours g thegrave. He theu covered his clothing and rounded up the car:h in the form ofa mound. It is supposed that he did this early in the night and then started out on his wild chase through the cactus patches. He passed through places that would cause a man with thick clotuing and heavy boots to shudder and turn back, and it isa wonder that be did not crop with exhaustion and loss of biood and pain long before he did. “Well, my dear husband and I bad, as you know, the greatest confidence in Bellamy. We would have intrasted him with untold gold, and, in fact, did intrust him with what was its equivalent, ‘and Tam bound to say that we never missed anything—not a silver spoon.” wasat least honest,” I said, rather disappointed. * she answered quietly. “He was st, Lam atraid, in smail things to con- ceal his knavery in great ones.” ‘Risked a spzat to catch a herring,” observed whu, so lar as provetbs went, was fe a Sol»mon, “Yes. le so imposed upon us that when we went abroad this summer we lett this house for more than three months entirely in his hand: never asked any gne to look m to see how ma ters were going on. ‘The other servants were as much under his contro!—and, indeed, muct. more so—as under our own, and we felt quite secure. Everything was forwarded to us with methodical man I never knew,” inte:polaed Mr. Pullen. “He ven sent as the circulars. Surplusage is no error.” “Aud when we came buck,” continued my hostess, “everything looked just as it suouid be. Bellamy ‘seemed charmed to see us; an excciiet T of the scrvants, and had been so ec ical with the coals that we wondered Low it had been managed.’ “Well, we might.” put im the old gentleman, “for there were more coals than when we went au” Jood gracious, how could that be?” I in- quired. “stow, indeed? That was the first thing that excited our suspicions,” said Mrs. Pullen. So it seemed that surplusage was an error. “Somehow of other, I don’t know how it was, bui we got the impression that somebod: had been in the houee while we bad been awa: Thers was no more evidence of it thau the ex- istence of a ghost, but we couldn't shake our- selvou free gf it. If they were Bellamy'sfrieads we (eh thef they must have Leon quite respect- able; but is was not nice to suspect that even Beilamy’s friendshad been using our house and sleeping :n our beds, was it?” “Tt certainly was not.” Tassented; “but why Aid you not speak to him on the matter?” Vel, You te, my Busband felt it rather a delicate subject to broach—to Bellamy. And he tried to hope for the best, til! he met you in the city and you spoke to him of the funeral at our house. There ought not to have been any funeral, you kno “stll, they are things you can't help, and which will occur,” I rematked. “Yes, yes; but you don't understané. When you told my husband that he made inquiries ot the neighbors. We have always thought it so nice that one’s neighbors in London never trouble thems: bout one, as they do in the country, but sometimes this works inconve- niently. ‘Lhe two of them liad even been #0 good us to puli down their blinds, thinking it was one of us; but they had thought no more about it after- ward on finding that the house was tet.” “The house let? Do you mean that your house was jet?” “Yes, that is just how it was, Bellamy had let it furnished.” “All would have been well for poor Bellamy,” observed her husban ut for the misfortune of bis tenant—or, as it should have been, our tenant—dying, as it were, upon his hands. A circumstance of that kind, in so short a lease, never entered into his calculations. ‘There was only just time to bury the woman respectab! » d ings into proper order before we gut ust have been very much burried —<oe—____ An Old-Time Quaker Marriage. From the Philadelphia Press. An old Quaker marriage certificate of nearly # century ago is one of the much-prized heir- Tooms of an old Philsdelphia county family. It is on parchment, carefully written in ink, and still perfectly legivle and well preserved. The back of the certificate bears the record of the births and deaths in the family. The cou- tracting partics were Samuel E. Howell of the first corps of city troops, who fought at the battle of Trenton, and Mise Mary Whitlock Dawes, and the ceremony was performed May 31, 1798. ‘The signatures of the witnesses show te names of prominent persons, and the occa- sion must have been a notable one. ‘The wording of the certificate is in the quaint Quaker style, and states that ‘whereas Samuel £. Howell of the city of Philadelphia, an Pennsylvania, merchaat, son of Samuel and Margarett Howell of Tuconey in the county of Philadelphia, aforesaid, and Mary Whitlock Dawes having declared ‘their intention of mar- tiage witu each other before several monthly mevtings of the people called Quakers, held at Puiiadelphia, aforesaid, according to the good order used among themand having consent of parents, their said proposals are alowed of by the said meeting. Now these are to certify whom it may concern that for the full accom- lishing their said intentions this thirty-first lay of the fifth month of the year of our Lord veventeen hundred and ninety-eight. *Lhey, the said Samuel E. Howell and Mary Whitlock Dawes, appeared in public meeting of said people of Philadelphia aforesaid, the suid Samuei E. Howell taking the said Mary Whitlock Dawes by the hand did on this sol- emn occasion openly declare that he took her, the said Mary Whitlock Dawes, to be his wiie, promising With diviue assistance to be unto her a fuithful and affectionate husband unui death snould separate them. And then in the same assembly the ene Mary Whitlock Dawes did in bke manner deciare that she took him, the aid Samuel E. Howell, to be her hus- band, promising with divine assistance to be unto him a faithful und affectionate wife until death should separate them. And, moreover, the said Samuel £. Howeli and Mary Whitlock Dawes (she according to the custom of marriage assuming the name of her hus- and put about “You have had no scruple about sending him ts gaol. I do hope,” Teaid. “A man who has abused your confidence #0 infamously” (@ might have added, “‘and insulted your guest,” for | felt it,) “deserves no mercy.” Mrs. Pullen held up her hands in horror. “Send him to gaol! Of course we could never do that. We have had to part with him. But we should be sorry indeed if his future should be wrecked by a sing!e act of—of_—” “Aliecelcuiation,”” murmured her husband. and the finishing of the canoe. The imple- mente used St present are axes and steel chisola, | Fire is employed to assist in excavating the | SRnoes. A stnali trench is first dug lengthwise | through the middle, and enough chips having | been inade for the purpose, they are kept burn ing atone end of the boat. When the wood at jnat end is charred enough to make the work- ing of it comparatively casy the fire is trans- ferred to the opposite end and the workman Proceeds to excavate the part that has been burned. This process is repeated over and again until the bulk of the interior wood bas been removed. It would not be safe to use fire too long. for in the last stages of the work tbe craft might be ruined by being burned throug The final process in the forming of the little ali that the books contained. ben, when Went into the prize examinations uwes work for me to write out the answers to the questions. But my business after leaving college has been such that it has been, for me each day to deal with an entirely new set of facts and a large number of them. Each day's accumulation was shoved aside by the following day's and thus the mind, or the mem- ory, if you please, lost its grip, as it were. Am this went on for years my memory became per= manently impaired and I have no hope of ever recovering it. It is only important mattesa that can now keep in mind or else matters that havea special persoual interest. For de- tails Ihave no capacity of retention for more ° than afew days, aud, as I said, when there is vessel consists in spreading out i any special thing that I must attend to outside that it may be made wine cuough is tees the | of tue regular course of business I make ase of necessary stability. For this purpose the canoe | MY memorandum book.” is steamed by _ filling it one-third full of water ——__+>>—__—_. and then putting hot stones into the water, canoe being covered with cedar mats, to ‘pre-| From the Manchoee Denton! oor Heed worey coro seam. When this pro-] The story of the “Red Rose of Gorse,” n ed long wales are forced apart and. "thwart sticks’ wre | “arming ae it struc, ineften told by Germans inserted to hold them in proper position. After | *® illustrate the touching loyalty of a subject this the boat is pointed or otherwise orna-| "ud the grateful remembrance and apprecie- mented. The great war canoes formerly made, | tio: 4 i Gere bic, were sometimes as much as sixty foct in | man ofices was Inne Wormer ene length, are no longer built. “One of fiseet | man oficer was lying wounded in ‘the ot exhibited at the tional Muscum, @ French fi mily, near the little town of Gorre, in Lorraine. lie had received six wounds ry the battle of Marsda-Tour, five of them as be BOATS OF SKIN. lay on the ground, while the fighs surged In the cold regions of the far north, where | timber or bark is difficult or impossible to get, | boats of skin are almost exclusively employed, | “CUNd him. and be was scarcely expected to To provide material for them the native hunter | he wee gun re ence, family in whose house ‘as quartered nursed their wounded enemy with much kindness and skill, One morning the otticer found placed in a glass by his bed= side « beautiful red rose, just opening, whic’ the daughter of the house bad brought in from the garden while he slept. Its scent and were refreshing to the sick man, but instead keeping it, he sent his soldier servant at omew With it to Gorze, where the King of Prussia’e headquarters were, aud told him to give thet rose to the king, with the message that one of his Wounded officers had sent it to him. The king put the rose in bis button hole and im Juired the name of the officer. “Capt. w Iwitz, seventy-second regiment of the ling, the reply. When apt von Zedwitz was sufficiently re- covered to be removed to Berl relies upon the seal, the sea lion and the wai- rus. Many patterns of guch craft are utilized in the fisheries pursued among the Aleutian Islands and elsewhere on the Alaskan coast. Mostly they are of two types—the “kaiak,” em- ployed by the men, and a» heavier and safer woman's boat, known as the “oomiak,” and used for transporting females and freight. To build kaink marke an important point in the life of the coast native. ‘The youth, assoon ashe is able to construct one, no longer ob- serves any family ties, but goes where his fancy takes him, irequentiy roaming about in his boat tor thousands of miles before he takes a notion to marry, to excavate a miserable | wne dwelling and to settle down for atime. The kaiak is the most seaworthy small boat in ex- istence. It is covered over, save only for | his red rose hel teen te : hole in which the voyager sits, the garment | showers of reser SF prserad os tel = which covers him, itself waterproof. being | from all sides co that hn fastened around the rim of the manhole in | them. In March of tho nextgvear, six, months such a manner as to exclude the water. Thus | after the original rose had faded. Zedwitz bad flotation is perfect, and even when the boat | occasion toask an audience of the emperor turns upside down, es not infrequently hap- | king. He was received most graciously, and @8 Es, the owner is able to quickly right it with | the em '# request toid the story of the babe is double paddle. Larger kaiaks with two or | tie of lars-la-Tour. Then, to Capt. Zedwits'’s three manholes are used for fishing and for | surprise, the emperor spoke of ‘tle rece which capturing whales and sea otters, when one man | ad been sent to iit at Gorse and again must manage the cance while another throws | thanked the officer for it As Zedwite was as " leaving the em; he met the crows ‘Tike frame of m kaink ie componed of tight | who i his conversation aise resales the tooo Picces of driftwood and small withes, which | with a smile. Even thon (ay. yon Zodetta are firmly lashed together with sinews, #0 a8 to | had not heard the last of hhis'tameus rose for stiffen the whole fabric. It is eaid that recently | on the following Christmas he lind the pleasure rattan was used to some extent forthe purpose, | of receiving an ph letter from the em- this light and elastic material being obtained | peror inclosing an om! through traders. - Once made the frame is the date A: covered with the untanned skins of sea lions, covered by the tri which have been freed from hair. hides Reston totentay helmet with oak wreath be- boat, | low and the iron cross with ribbon. A rose * Son Stet catia top an covered, except man- hole or manholes. When the skins dry they qeizétccnth Contacy Convivtatny. contract so as to bind the frame firmly and are | From the Spectator. ag taut as the parchment of a well-strung bass| If it were not that by far the larger number drum. Then the native smears the hole over | of the men distinguished for birth, stateaman- with thick seal oll, which Keeps the water out | ship or letters in the eighteenth century @ied of the pores of the akin for a long period. ata comparatively early age we might be te wasnarmneaitng “ . clined to think that the capacity they displayea m-,meee for hard drinking showed » greater toughness Quite an embarrassing incident occurred af « | Of constitution than their descendants possess. fashionable reception up town the other day. | Pope's friend, Lord Bathurst, who, as Sterne Ie was awkward, very, both for the guest and | Sti, was a Mpa acbradln cc — ‘and prom ‘© man Crowt ele a ean ok ale ce house. The | Tas an exception te the almost ‘nteermal eae? who had been invited, but to all the members |S" his vitality wasnotduete great, band) did, as @ curther coutirmhation thereof, then and’ there to thesc presents set thei hands. And we whose names are thereunto also subscribed being present at the solerauiza- tion of the said marriage and subscription have as witnesses thereof set our hand the day and year abovo written.” Then follow the names of the witnesses in columns, the men’s names being first and the women's next, in separate columns, “Just so. That is why we have invited you, my dear young friend, here alone, to beg ihat, 80 long as the revelation can do him any injury, ou will eay nothing to anybody about Bel- lamy's mis—well, his letting our house for us.” CHAPTER Iv. DETECTION AND SOLUTION. departed from that dinner in Vigo square withont having said a word about Polly Pullen or Frank Baxter or of my determination to constitute myself an amateur detective. All the questions I put to them was “Where is Bellamy?” ‘They did not know. A week of bard work enabled meto find him. . He was out ofa place still, but that fnct did not relax his pompous dignity. ‘Look here, you old humbug,” I said, se- verely, “where's the young lady you imposed upon my friend, Count D’Arcey, as Miss Pul- Jen, an American heiress?” ‘Followed by His Wife, From the Brooklyn Citizen. ‘The arrest in Montague street last week of a man who was playing the amateur detective with false whiskers has incited one of the force to tell a little story that never was made public. Two or three years ago # stoady-goiug mer- “She wasn't a lady,” he retorted, falling into | dressed in mourni the trap T had ect fof him. crape veil which concealod her face. No matter “And she wasn't an heiress.” 5 where he went he found the voman shadowing “L'il say nothing about hor. I don't know | his footsteps, but always sta distance of se: anything. “She and ber mother wore tenants. | yards in the rear or across the street. If he ‘That's all I know of thom.” took refuge in an elevated train she would Instantly I realized how poor » detective I usually manage to squeese into the car close was, forIhad not prepared myself to cope or aliead of the onehe entered. At with thismaster of the art of reticence. But I| last he began to dread the woman in black struck out with a sudden thought and hit the | every night when ho went outdoors; and after mark. leaving bls house he often, stood on “If you didn't incite the youn; to ‘corner ai herset! off for an American’ heivess,” appear. It made no difference “how did it happen that the count caught you | weather might be on hand the woman one day teaching her and her mother bow to | got there all the same. And the snnoyance imitate the American accent?” on for a mouth or more before Bellamy was struck, 2s I could see, although | of it tos detective and asked for the wince was all inside. Succoss ‘made me | ® detective was employed to: bold. ‘The climas came the second “Bellamy,” I resumed, as I took from a surprise concerned. et a folded mercantile paper’ that chanced ranged by the detective that the man tobe there, “I will not caress warren oe = a Lafayette our arrest on a charge of conspiracy woman on after him. Ewindle if -you tell me the whole truth." self followed her. When The fat of the man began to quiver with ee it good deal of light shed paseal, 09 { hestinting: and she turned for a. street ther the man her, and at the same time the up from the opposite eaid the man savagely, “arrest have a complaint to make Son oan he and ‘the black veil was the man's wife. Wot: left ber at home in the most amiable ‘night | and sad, ‘always | couldn't ‘see her. She is and wore a thick | be bothered. redit the tale, which of the family but one. He was not a particu- | jee" We may credit the tale, _— cou fn some ‘logros for the awkward mis: | Se%¢2 Of aa. “having some friends = —_ ¥ take that followed. ‘The guest was shown to the | thu® ons wivit, his won he heed ote dressing room by a servant, and when ho came | Siiccted to sitting Up any longer R= down he met the won of the hostess at the re- | Pods 49? s0un nw hho wae gone the lively spade engin gue se Peer said: ‘Come, my good friends, since Can you teil me,” said he, “where Mrs. | oid gentieman is gone to bed I we ‘Blank is?" . venture to crack another bottle.’ ” The young man looked at his questioner, and | "Dy Tohneon remembered the time not knowing him thought he was one of the | 4,5 decent people in Lyebusld got druok waiters sent by the eaterer. Thon he said, very | Higut™ and he eaid that before his daye of abruptly: “You can't see her now. Sheis busy.” abstinence he had drank three bottles of ‘The strange young man looked rather sar-| Vithout being the worse for it. Convivial risod at therecoption his request had mot,and | a" teu, Gu arly soars ofthe nowing that he would be made welcome should | {i Ciose of it, prevailed im high gear tag rie” age in the lower ‘orders, among the very m seo Mre. Bian The young man ot the house did not even Spun Akan and Rie etetenmen ot then e situation, but was rather an- noyed at persistency of the supposed waiter, See ee impat : “I told ‘ou | From a usy now ott hat A highly exciting wildcat chase took back.” he continued, | at Will's Cove, about three miles southwest back stairs, “and go Livingston, Wednesday last. The cat, which F ltt Bg ji t the & The guest to id conduct me to the paymy to her.” diately set three large greyhounds on it, The animal ran for some "itcbon but i