Evening Star Newspaper, January 8, 1898, Page 16

48 THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 8, 1898-24 PAGES, ===: = —— — — — The footfalls to hesitate; then they | bid them set. out.” : came again, of the door shot back, | Of our journey I will say no more. There ’ and a crack of faigt light showed.. “Who's | is noting in it that I take pleasure In there?” ask ra’s voice, trembling | telling, and to write its history were to with alarm of somg other agitation which | accuse either Barbara or myself. For days made ‘her tonps abjek ard timid: 1 made | we traveled’ together, she in her coach, f no answer: The ddgr opened a little wider. | on horseback. Come to London we were bot : I saw her fate ag/she looked out, half | told that my lord was at Hatchstead; hav- | Lhe Enormous Strides She Has Made fearful, yet ‘burely also half expectant. | ing dispatched our borrowed equipage and CF Be ANTHONY HOPE COPYRIGHT. 1691 As 8Y AMMAWKINS. Synopsis. the teller of the stoi r the execution of Charle: looked upc destined to grei cause a wise woman has proph shall “love what the king the king hid Simon shortly Dal Falling in love with ba . daughter of | the parish magistrate, Lord Quinton, his young affections are diverted by the ap- pearance of a mysterious London beaut) Named Cydaria, who secretly sojourns at Hatehstead. On Cydaria’s return to Lon- don he receives a commission in the King’s Guards. He goes to Lon discovers that Cydaria is really Neli Gwyn, and decide to resign his commission because she pro- cured it. He becomes a favorite of the young Duke of Monmouth i is attached to his suite. Goes to Dover with the duke. where a reception is given the king's siste Queen of France. The queen and her suite cived with much pomp and cere- but the greatest interest centers in the <rrival of M. de Perrencourt, who comes by night trom Calais. Secret con- ferences #re held. M. de Perrencourt is very partial to Barbar ems deter- mined to win her by any means. At the close of the conference Dale is hurriedly summoned into the king's presence a commanded to “drink of the ki cup. At the first draught his senses leave him. The drink proves to be drugged wine sent to him by Phineas Tate and offered to the king by his friend Darrell. Tate is appre- hended and confesses his diabolical pur- pose, and is sentenced. Dale is then at- tached to the Suite of M. de Perrencourt at that gentleman's request, and ordered to prepare for the journey to France. His preparaticns made, he secks to warn Bar bara (who is aiso going) of their danger, and to devise some way of escape. Without a definite plan, they embark with the king for Cz At a moment when the boat is be ed in a dense fog they jump over- board into the pilot's beat, but before they can push off Louis vers them and leaps into the boat. Dale overpowers ! w bara rows so! th The king. find dis. ge, clously acd Z beea rowed to the s young peopie, who row to the sh coast, near Dover. Simon dis: the En: that he has but a single guinea. This he presents to Barbara as a token of h sire to serve her to the utmost. In mert of temper she flings it into the Penniless and in danger apprehy for their conduct, he up s her despair Simon thin and, un their w Gwyn Londo cove! att tpp! Ss much 2 hly CHAPTER XIX—Continued. We cam horse and ed from my s host in cpening th he loons of townsner es lined the approach on Hl sprang out, merry, radiant, hamed. She laughed in my face as ran past me amid the plaudits; slowly ura followed. With a iow bow, 1 off my arm. Alas, there rose a murmur of questions concern Who was the lady that rode with n Who wus although plainly attired, bore himsclf so proudly? Was he some great lord, traveling un- known, and was the lady—weil, the con tures miy be guessed, and Mistress Quin- ton heard th r pride broke for a moment, and I feared she would weep. Then she drew herself uy walked siow- ly by with a haughty air and a calm face, so that the murmured questions fell to} sile I also had m are in | the change, af and sword. fier her, wearing with my eyes, bilt of my of Nell’s commoda- | a word either | maid to the was in no it sup with . had no p it I could ton. to you,” cried with me,” I ce- Sehold, I'm firmly seat- carried my message while I paced r the lady's but he had need of nothing. saying that I desired to oncerning our jourr rned to me she had a she must the mor and me off smiling. angrily mation, ng in the room where we had supped. 1 knew cried, reveling y s dancing in de- peor Simon, you ut come, you're a comfort you. Beside Jew i dagger mnge in all your © no need Uflly; vet, feeling =e, 1 followed her ed already?” she neart heals well. i © Was now @ ne} s still spark} that she had pr re an heali tone in her voice. » mischievous ex- ved right, and 1 i baffled. But when she “ of my heart there Ine The hinting of med to be strug- mirth. She was a creature ounded of sudden changing moods. compliments re- | thanks to the attention | i ' ot Know when they were true, when ‘d in sport, or to further some device. me how, and bent over my atly: las, I'm very wicked. I couldn't help the folk cheering me. Simon, surely it was no fault of mine.” “You had no need t dow of the coach, “But war ‘0 look out of the win- said 1. sternly. I did that with never a thought. I the air. I r to jest and banter. mly, 1 swear.” truth, I was wrong to jest with them.” said Nell, remorsefully. “And with- fe Simon, my heart was aching with Shame. even while I jested. Ah, y f know the shame I feel.” hight n good truth,” I returned, “I believe u feel no shame at all.” [You're very cruel to me, Simon. Yet it's no more than my desert. Ah, if—" she sighed heavily. “If only Simon—" she Said. and her hand was very near my hair by the back of the chair. “But that’s past Praying,” she ended, sighing again most Woefully. “Yet I have been of some ser- it was mighty In “I thank you for it most heartily,” said 1, still stiff and cold. “And I was very wrong today, Simon. It on her account.” “What?” 1 cried. “Did Mistress Quin- ton bid you put your head out and jest with the fellows on the pavement?” “She did not bid me, but I did it be- cause she was there.” I looked up at her. It was a rare thing with her, but she would not meet my glance. I looked down again. “It was ever the same between her and me.” murmured Nell. “Aye, so long ago— even at Hatchstead.” “We're not in Hatchstead now,” said I, roughly. “Nay, not even in Chelsea. For even in Chelsea you had a kindness for me. “I have much kindness for you now.” “Well, then you had mor “It is in your knowledge why now I have no_more. Yes, it's In my knowledge,” she cried, et I carried Mistress Quinton from Dover.” I made no answer to that. She sighed “Heigho,” and, for a moment, there was silence. Yet messages pass without words, and there are speechiess mercuries that carry tidings from heart to heart. Then the air is full of whisperings, and sflence is but foil to a thousand sounds, which the soul hears though the dull corporeal ear be deaf. Did she still amuse herself or was there more? Sometimes a part, as- sumed in play or malice, so grows on the actor that he cannot, even when he would, throw aside his trappings and wash from his face the paint which was to show the passion that he played. The thing takes hold, and will not be thrown aside, it seems to seek revenge for the light as- sumption, and punishes the bravado that nothing of the king. It was not there I stuck, Nay, and I did not stick on any score of conscience. Yet stick I did and gazed at her with dumb stare. She seem- ed to fall into a sudden rage, crying: “Go to her, then, if you will, but she won't have ycu. Would you like to know t she called you today in the coach - would hear nothing that was not for my ears.” “A very pretty excuse, but in truth you fear to hear it.” Alas, the truth was even as she said. I feared to hear it. “But you sball hear it. ‘A good honest fellow,’ she said, ‘but somewhat forward fer his station.’ So she said, and leaned back with half-closed lids. You know the trick these great ladies have. By heaven, though, I think she wronged you. For I'll swear on my Bible that you're not for- ward, Simon Well, I'm not Mistress Quin- ton. ‘ou are not,” said I, sore and angry, and wishing to wound her in revenge for the blow she had dealt me. you're gruff with me for what she said. It's a man’s way; I care not. Go and sigh outside the door.’ She won't open it to_you.”” She drew near to me again, coaxing and seeking to soften me. took your part,” she whispered, “and declared that you were a fine gentleman. 2 I told her many things that it should please you to hear. But she grew mighty short with me, and on the top came the folk with their cheers. Hence, my lady is “IT'S AN EVIL RETURN FOR YOUR KINDNESS TO HER.” feigned without feeling by a feeling which is not feint. She was now, for the moment if you will, but yet now, in earnest. Some v of recollection or of fancy had come over her and transformed her jest. She stole round till her face peeped into mine in piteous, bewitching pleading, asking a sign of fondness, bringing back the past, raising the dead from my heart's sepul- chre. There was a throbbing in my brain, yet I had need of a cool head. With @ spring I was on my feet. “Til go and ask if Mistress Barbara sleeps,” I stammered. be well attended.” A “You'll go again? Once scorned, you'll g0 again, Simon? Well, the maid will smile; they'll make a story of it among themselves at their supper in the kitchen.” The laugh of a parcel of knaves and wenches. Surely it is a small thing! But men will face death smiling who run wr: faced from such ridicule. I sank in my chair agi But in truth did I desire to “I fear she may not g0? The dead rise, or at least there is a voice that speaks from the tomb. A man tarries to listen. Well if he be not lost In listening! With a sigh Nell moyed across the room and flung the window open. ‘The lolterers were gone, ali was still, only the stars looked In, only the t scent of the night a new companio! night at Hatchstead,” she like a od Jo you remember how we toget he melt as_it It's She “Do did not wait for herself in a chair on me. It w: and wrung as better thu marvelously. t clock in the corner of room; it ticked solemnly. » time with the beating of id no desire to move, but iting, yet every nerve of my stir. Now I watched her every movement, took re of every feat- ure, Seemed to read more than her out- ward visage showed and to gain knowledge of her heart. I knew that she tempted me, and why. I was not a fool, to think that she loved me; but she was set to conquer me, and with her there was no price that seemed high when the prize was victory or a whim’s fulfillment. I would have written none of this, but that it is so part and marrow of my his- tory that ut it the record of my life would go limping on one leg. She rose and came near me again. Now she laughed, yet still not lightly, but as though she hid a graver mood. “Come,” said she, “you needn't fear to b civil to me. tress Barbara 1s not here The taunt was well ccnceived; for the most part there is no incitement that more whips a man to any madness than to lay self-control to the score of cowardice, and tel! him that his scruples are not his own, but worn by command of another, and on P lo see het tation. Yet the new timidity There w: the old pane! seeming to k Innkeeper’s Eyes Were Fixed on Me. pain of her displeasure. Yet sometimes woman's cunning gves astray, and a name, used in mockery, speaks for itself with strong ettraction, as though ft held the charm of hor it stands for. The name, fall- ing from Neli’s pouting lips, had power to raise in me a picture, and the picture spread, like a very painting done on canvas, a screen between me and the alluring eyes that sought mine in provoking witchery. She did not know her word’s work, and laughed again to see me grow yet more grave at Barbara’s name. “The stern mistress ts away,” she whis- pered. “May we not sport? The door is shut! Why, Simon, you're dull. In truth, you're as du!l as the king when his purse is empt. I raised my eyes to hers; she read the thought. She tossed her head, flinging the brown curls back; ker eyes twinkled mer- ily, and she said, in a soft whisper, haif- smothered in a rising laugh. ‘But, Simon, the king also is away.” I owed nothing to the king and thought in a rage.” She shrugged h sullen; the scornful ds were whirling through my brain. “Somewhat forward for his station!’ It was a hard judgment on one who bad striven to serve her. In what had I shown presumption? Had she not professed to forgive all o} e? She kept the truth for others, and it came out when my back was turned. “Poor Simon,” said Nell, softly. “Indeed I wonder any lady should speak so of you. ne 8 an evil return for your kindness to her. Silence fell on us for a while. Nell was by me now. Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder, and, looking up, I saw her eyes on my face in, mingled ‘pensiveness and challenge. “Indeed, you are not forward,” she mur- mured, with a little laugh, and set one hand over her eyes. I sat and lookec seemed to look at hi room, with its furn and clean on my little aw shoulder: I sat there at her, yet, though I only, the whole of the is stamped clear - Mell moved a and stood facing me. “It grows lat softly, “and we must be carly on the road M bid you good night and go to my bed. She came to me, holding out her L nd. did not take it, but she laid it for a moment on mine. Then she drew it away and moved toward the door, I rose anu fol- lowed he “Til see you © on your w a low voice, he met my gi ment, but made no answer in words. were in the corridur now, and Once turned her head and a: ed at me. It was a sullen face w, but still I followed. “Tread lightly,” she whispered. “Ther her door; we pass it, and she would not to know that you escorted me. She ou herself, and yet when another he Sentence went unended. We he led th in In a tumuit of feeling still 1 followed. 1 s half mad with resentment against Bar- ng to myself that her scorn was nothing to me. I shrank from nothing to prove to my own mind the lie that my: heart would not receive. The door!” whispered Nell, going deli- cately on her toes with uplifted forefinger. I cannot tell why, but at the word I came to a stand. Nell, looking over her shoulder nd seeing me stand, turned to front me. miled merrily, then frowned, then smiled again with raised eyebrows. I stood there as though pinned to the spot. For now I had heard a:sound from within. It came very softly. There was a stir as some one moving, then a line of some soft, sad song, falling in careless. half conscious: ness from saddened lips. ‘The sound fell clear and plain on my ears, though I paid no heed to the words and have them not in my memory. I think that in them a maid spoke to her lover who left her, but I am not sure. I listened. ‘The snatch died away and the movement in the room ceased. Ai! was still again, and Nell’s eyes were fixed on mine. I met them squarely and thus for a while we stood. Then came the un- spoken question, cried from the eyes that were on mine ina thousand tones. 1 could trace the play of her face but dimly by the light of the smoky lamp, but her eyes I seemed to see plain and clear. I had looked for scorn there, and, it might be, amusi ment. I seemed to sce (perhaps the imper- fect light played tricks), besides lure and raillery, reproach, sorrow, and, most range of all, a sort of envy. Then came smile, and ever so lightly her finger beckoning. The song came no more through the closed door, my ears were empty of it, but not my heart. There it sounded still in its soft, pleading cadence. Poor maid whose lover left her! Poor maid, poor maid! I looked full at Nell, but she did not move. ‘The lids dropped ‘over her sand their lights went out. She turned nd walked slowly and alone along the cor- ridor. I watcher her golng, yet wistfully I watched. But I did not follow, for the snatch of song rose in my heart. There was a door at the end of the passage, she opened it and passed through. For a’ mo- ment it stood open, then a hand stole back and slowly drew it close. It was shut. The click of the lock rang clear and sharp through the silent house. CHAPTER Xx, The Vicar’s Proposition, I do not know how long I stood outside the dcor there in the passage. After awhile I began to move softly to and fro, mere than once reaching the room where I was to sleep, but returning again to my old pest. I was loath to forsake it. A strange desire was on me. I wished that the door would open, nay, to open it my- self, and by my presence declare what Was now so plain to me. But to her it would not have been plain, for now I was alone in the passage, and there was noth- ing to show the thing which had come to me there, and there at last had left me. Yet it seemed monstrous that she should not know, possible to tell her tonight, cer- tain that my shame-faced tongue would find no words tomorrow. It was a thing that must be said while the glow and the charm of it were still on me, or {t would find ro saying. ‘The lamp had burnt down very low and gave forth a dim fitful glare, hardly con- quering the darkness. Now, again, I was standing still, lost in my struggle. Pres- ently, with glad amazement, as though there had come an unlooked-for answer to my prayer, I heard a light step within. a moved in } room Much as I haf desired her coming, I would willingly havé escaped now, for I did not know what t6'say to her. I had rehearsed my speech a‘ hundred times; the moment for its utterance found me dumb. Yet the impulse I_ha# felt!Wwas still on me, though it failed to gtre me! words. “I thought %t was you,” she whispered. “Why are yott thee? Do you want me?’ Lame and halting came my answe “I was onl} ling by on my way to bed,”" I stamimered. “I'm sorry I roused isn’t asleep,” said she. Then, after @ pause, she added, “I—I thought you had been there some time. Good-night.” She bade me good night, but yet seemed to wait for me to speak. Since I was still silent she asked: “Is your companion gone to bed?” “Some little while back,” said I. Then raising my eyes to her face, I said, “I'm sorry that you don’t sleep.” “Alas, we both have our sorrows,” she returned with a doleful smile. Again there Was a pause. {Good night,” said Barbara. “Good night,” said I. She drew back, the door closed, I was alone again in the passage. Now, if any man—nay, if every man—who reads my history, at this place close the leaves on his thumb and call Simon Dale a fool, I will not complain of him; but if he be moved to fling the book away for good and all, not enduring more of such a fool as Simon Dale, why I will humbly ask him if he hath never rehearsed brave speeches for his mistress’ ear, ‘and found himself tongue-tied in her presence? And if he hath, what did he then? I wager that, while calling himself a dolt with most hearty honesty, yet he set some of the blame on her shoulders, crying that he would have spoken had’ she opened the way; that it was her reticence, her dis- tance, her coldness, which froze his elo- quence; and that to any other lady in the whole world he could have poured forth words so full of fire that they must have inflamed her to a passion like to his own, and burnt down every barrier which parted her heart from his. Therefore, at that mo- ment he searched for accusations against her, and found a bitter-tasting comfort in every offense that she had given him, and made treasure of any scornful speech, res- cuing himself from the extreme of foolish- ness by such excuse as harshness might afford. Now Barhara Quinton had told Mistress Nell that I was forward for my station. What man could, what man would, lay bare his heart to a lady who held him to be forward for his station? ‘These meditations took me to my cham- ber, whither I might better have gone an hour before, and lasted me fully two hours ter I had stretched myself upon the bed. Then I slept heavily. When I woke it was high morning. I lay there’ a little While, thinking with no pleasure on the jcurney before me. Then, having risen and dressed hastily, I made my way to the where Nell and I had talked the night before. I did not know in what mood I should find her, but I desired to see her alone and beg her to come to some truce with Mistress Quinton, lest our da: traveling should be over thorns. She w not in the room when 1 came there. Look ing cut of the window L perceived the coach at the doc The host w giving an ve to the he and 1 hailed him. He n in, and a moment later entered the room. ‘ At what hour are we to set out?” I ‘ tried, ‘amazed. A smile came on his lips and his eyes hought it,” said he, with “You didn’t know her purpose hired a post chaise and set out telling me that you and vould travel as well with- and that, for her part, she was weary of both’ of you. But she left a mes- for you. See, it Mes there on the A little packet was on the table. I took it up; the inthkeepér’s eyes were fixed on me in obvious curiosity and amusement. I Was not minded to afford hin more enter- tainment, than I need, and bade him begone before I opened the packet. He withdrew reluctantly. Then I unfastened Nell’s par- cel. It contaired 10 guineas wrapped in white paper, and on the inside of the pa- per was written ip a most laborious, awk- ward serawl (I execution of it gave poor Nell In pay for your ¢ r. E, It wes all of her hand that I had ever The bricf message seemed to speak I deluded myset would not ser That was the eved that she had Her skill with he far. She sum of it, and Tw. gone in this fashion. With the piece of pape guineas also still standing in a pe 5 i] in my hands, little th pile on the table, I turned to find Barabara Her Quinton in the doorway of the room. air was timid, as though she were not of welcome, and something of the nig embarrassmeat stl hung about her looked round as though in search for some- body. said I, answering her “Tf am alone here,’ s said 1 “I haven't seen her. The innkceper tells me that she has bi one these two hcurs. But she has us the coach and—”" I dow and looked out. “Yes, and my ho is there, and her servant with his hoi “But ‘why is she gone? Hasn't left ‘She has left ten guineas also,” said I, pointing to the pile on the table. ‘And no reason for her goin nless this be one,” I answered, holding out the piece of paper. “J won't read it,” said Barbara. “It says only, ‘In pay for your daggcr.’” “Then it gives mo reason?” “Why, no, it gives none,” said I. “Ivs very strange,” murmured Barbara, looking not at me, but past me. Now to me, when I pondered over the matter, it did not seem altogether strange. Yet where lay the need to tell Mistress Barbara. why it seemed not altogether strange? Indeed, I could not have told it easily, seeing that, look at it how you will, the thing was not easy to set forth to Mistress Barbara. Doubtless it was but @ stretch of fancy to see any meaning in Nell’s mention of the dagger, save the plain one that lay on the surface; yet had she becn given to conceits, she might have used the dagger as a figure for some wound that I had dealt her. he “No doubt some business called her,” said I rather lamely. “She has shown much consideration in leaving her coach for us.” “And the money? Shall you use it?” What choice have 1?” Barbara's glance was. on the pile of guin- €a I put out my hand, took them up and stowed them in my purse. As I did this my 2ye wandered to the window. Barbara followed $y look and my thought aso. I had no §Rind that this new pro- vision for oyr ne@ds should share the fate of my last quince: “You necda’s fave said that,” cried Bar- bara, flushing, dlt@ough, as may be seen, I had ‘said nothing. “I will repay the money in due course,” said I, pattigg my-purse. We made meal together in unbroken silence, Ne more was said of Mistress Nell; our eapourier in the corridor last night seemet of a presente that was irksome to her and would have rendered her apprehensive of fresh shame through Mi shown an e: so I supost ete forgotten. Relieved every place we passed ess’ Barbara should have ler Dearing and more gayety, andy hoped. The fact re- futed me; gileht,—cold and distant, she seemed in qyen @feater discomfort than when we had a=gompanion. Her mood called up a ke e, and I began to ask myself whether for this I had done well to drive poor Nell away. Thus fn gloom we made ready to set forth. _ Myself prepared to mount my horse, ‘I offered to hand Barbara into the coach. Then she looked at me; I noted it, for she had not done so much for an hcur past; a slight color came on her cheeks, she glanced round the interior of the coach; it was, indeed, wide and spa- cious for one traveler. “You ride today, also?” she asked. The sting that had tormented me was still alive. I could not deny myseif the Pleasure of-a retort so apt.. I bowed low ard deferentially, saying, “I have learnt my station. I would not be so forward as to sit in the coach with you.” The flush on her cheeks deepend suddenly, she stret¢hed out her hands a little way to- ward me, and her lips parted as though ghe were about to speak. But her hand fell again, and her lips shut on unuttered rds. E “CAs you will,” she said dbldly, ““Pray, Servants to their mistrees and with them the amount of my debt and a most grateful message, we proceeded on our way, Bar- bara in a chaise, I again riding. All the way Barabara shunned me as though I had the plague, and I on my side showed no desire to be with a companion so averse to my society. On my life I was driven half mad and had that night at Canter- bury come again—well, heavens be thank- ed that temptation comes sometimes at momeuts when virtue alse has attractions. or which of us would stand? And the night We spent on the road decorum forbade that we should so much as speak, much less Sup, together, and the night we lay in London I spent at one end of the town and she at the other. At least I showed no forwardness; to that I was sworn and ad- hered most obstinately. Thus we came tc Hatchstead better strangers than ever we had left Dover, and although safe and sound from bodily perils and those wiles of princes that had of late so threatened our tranquillity, yet both of us as iil in temper as couid be conceived. Defend me from any such journey again! But there is no likelihood of such a trial now, alas Yes, there was a pleasure in it; it was a battle, and, by my faith, it was close drawn between us. The chaise stopped at the manor gates, end I rode up to the door of it, cap in hand. Here was to be our parting. “I thank you heartily, sir,” said Barbara in a Icw voice, with a bow of her head and a quick glance that would not dwell on my sullen face. “My happiness has been to serve you, madamé,” I returned. “I grieve only that Try escort has been so irksome to you.” “No,” said Barbara, and she said no more, but rolled up the avenue in her chaise, leaving re to find my way alone t my mother’s house. I sat a few moments on my horse watch- ing her go. Then with an oath I turned away. The sight of the gardener's cottage sent my thoughts whirling back to the old days when Cydaria came and caught my heart in her butterfly net. It was just there, in the meadow by the avenue, that I had kissed her. A kiss is a thing lightly given and sometimes rightly taken. It was that kiss which Barbara had seen from the window, and great debate had arisen, on it. Lightiy given, yet leading on to much that I did not see. Lightly taken, yet perhaps mother to some fancies that men would wonder to find in Mis 5 Tm heartily glad to be here,” I cried, loosing the vi hand and flinging my self into the high armchair in the chimn corner. My mother received this exclamatior a tribute of filial affection, the vicar tre it as an evidence of friendship, my s' Mary saw in it a thanksgiving for del ance from the perils and temptations of London and the court. Let them take it hew they would, in truth it was inspired in none of these ways, but was purely an ex- pression of relief, first at having brought Mistress Barbara safe to the manor, in the ‘ond place at being quit of he I am mighty curious to 1 said the vicar, « nd laying his hand upen my kne sed at Dever. For it seen.s to me that », if at any place In the world, the pro- which Bett roth spoke concern- ing you— “You shall know all in good time, sir,” I cried, impatiently. “Should find its i placidly. fulfiliment,” ended the Simon must tell us that,” smiled the Vicar. “In good time, in good time,” I cried again. “But tell me first, when did my lord come here from London? “Why, a week ago. My lady was sick, and the physician prescribed the air of the country for her. But my lord stayed four days only, and then was gone again.” I staried and sat upright in my seat. What, isn't he here now?” I asked eager! Why, Simon, said my good mother, with 2 laugh, “we looked to get news from you, and now we have news to give you. The king has sent for my lord. I saw his message. It was most flattering, and spok: of some urgent and great business on whi the king desired my lord’s immediate pre: ence and cour So he set out two day ago to join the king with a large train of servants, leaving behind my lady, who was too sick \to travel.” _ I was surprised at these tidings and fell into deep consideration. What need had the king of m counsel, and so sud- dent What n done at Dove would not be opened to Lord Quinton’s he summoned as a lord of co! daughte father? For b must know certain maiter respecting my lord’s daughter and a hum- ble gentleman who had striven to serve her as far as his station enabled him and with- out undue forwardness." We might well ed my lord's coach on the road not remarked it among the many that s as we drew near to London in I had n but that went for little on th: observed his li thing. [ took hi save the bearing of ere lay the meaning 2 ame into my ourt had sent mes- «ers from Calais, and that the king it be seeking to fulfill in another way bargain whose accomplishment I had thwarted. The thought was new life to If my work were not finished—I broke : the v s hand was on my knee again. ‘Touching the prophecy—" he began. ir, in good time you shall know he cried fortune smil I retorted, “she frowns most dam- apturously. ‘Then, To swear is a sin, to swear before ladies is bad manners, to swear in talking to a yman is worst of all. Yet, while my mother and my sister drew a yin offens (and I hereby tender them an apology never the vicar only smiled. yet made said I t if it be fulfilled,” he murmured. For he held more by that than by any good fortune of mine, me he loved, but his magic as dearer to him. “You must indeed tell " he urged. My mother approached somewhat timidl “You are come to stay with us, Simon? she asked. “For the term of my life, so far as I know, madame,” said I. “Thanks to God,” she murmured softly. (To be continued.) —_— Bread and Ball Fights. From the St. Paul Pioneer Press. A Roman emperor once snecringly re- ferred to the population of Rome as being easily made content and controllable by “bread and circuses.” Gen. Blanco, for the same purposes, in Cuba, seems to have re- sorted to bread and bull fights. Having measurably pacified the needy multitude crowded into Havana by a distribution of supplies, to divert their thoughts from “Cuba libre” and politics he recently, ac- cording to a Globe-Democrat correspondent, availed himself of the presence in Cuba of a famvus Spanish matador, Mozzantini, to get up a grand bull fight, which the hero of the Spanish bull ring graced with .is presence, as Sagasta or the queen regent might have done, although he did not ap= pear professionally. There were banderil- leros by the dozen, picadors and matadors by the half dozen, all arrayed in gaudy ap- parel, and all as eager for a smile of ap- proval from the great Mozzantini as an American society girl for a nod from the champion base ball pitcher. Half a dozen bulls were tortured and finally killed, the assemblage applauding every particularly bloody episode—bloody for the bulls alone, since none of their tormentors received a hurt worth speaking of or even incurred serious danger. Great care was taken that the odds at all points should be against the bulls. When it was all over Mozzantini held a levee previous to departing for Mexi- co. The spectacle served its purpose. The glory of Spanish civilization had been once more unveiled in Havana. “Cuba libre” was forgotten. No talk was heard save of the bull fight. And Gen. Blanco rubbed his hands as he thought that now he had found the true way to quell the insurrection. Not even Gomez, he thought, could hold the Cu- ban patriots in their camps while bull fights could be seen within the Spanish lines. Surely now the “pacification” of Cuba was in sight, Bully for bull fights! ——_-e-+___ Great Explorer’s Friend (as the latter is about to start)—“Well, professor, you've ar- ranged for your lectures and book when you come back, haven't you?” Great Explorer—“Yes. Also my testimon- ials are written for the canned goods, the clothing, the boats and the cooking uten- sils. All I have to do now is to get lost and be rescued, and my fortune is made,”— Boston Journal, in Recent Years. ECONOMIC CONDITIONS PREVAILING Competition and Overproduc Are Having Their Effect. HOPEFUL FOR THE FUTURE ke eateere SATE See Special Correspondence of The Evening Star. YOKOHAMA, December 1, 1807. It is but a few years since that Japan was almost unknown to ordinary readers, and it is less than half a century ago that it was entirely closed to viher than iis own people, its lawful monarch withheld from the gaze of the people and worshiped as a god and its subjects Oppressed by feudal lords and governed by a military despot. Then so severe was the exclusion ef the country to all the outer world that even to its own sons cast adrift on the hi seas there was no possibility of getting back to their own kith and kin. for the Japanese rigerously refused to receive back any who had once left the shores of the country. It is not, therefore, surprising that so much interest should now be taken by the whole civilized world in this comparatively newly opened country, and especially when it is understood how prone the peop! to adapt to their own use ail the moder ements and inventions of ine w @ progress of the Japanese in many things, since they cast off their exclusive- ness and allowed Wuropeans to reside in certain restricted ports of their domains, has been very marked, and, altnough Un foreign residents, who have been main the instruments by which the improvemen and developments which are constantly go- ing on have been »rought into existence, have been almost overlooked by the nations which they are supy esent, still the Javanese deserve considerabl aise for the foresight they have shown in so readily appreciating the advantages to be derived from these new ideas, and in so promptly applying them tu their and benet tions, ave nox yet been on that solid footing which they will re quire if they are to become really perma- nent and pros but derful growth of the foreigu trade of empire during the la: A century an the variety of i ies which have al- ready been introd y unmistakabiy what th people a do and what they may ecome when they hav learned to re what ways their abili- tes can be: dL. Moment. It is this knowledge which are just now most in want of, bec ing passed from a state of conserv:.tism n greater than that of ait and glow of modern F period oung fe as great as or ev . into the Chin; so short that residents here E the whole of it is not s should s ably elated at thet be oversanguine in cy take. It is this :ppar Japanese in almost ev ken ase Appa ecause the Japanese have gone d so rapidly that they na not yet stopped to strengthen the weak points of any of their new underiakings, and appear to be positi pout serious ultended to, y breakdown in many of them) eading them on to build up such les in the alr as to create alarm among those who know them le » but ridicule among those who know erable excuse for following figures show: Tmnports. the above a inost staid peopl ly a proud and se f-opinionate Japanese; for it will be seen of the last five years was more ¢ le that of the f en men- tioned bove list. * Exports and Imports. . It also shows that the exports, which exclusive of packing charges, commission and freight, are Uttle less than the imports, which o: items. Besides cluded 4, en include some of in the imports the nnons, 1 munitions And thi ent one-fifth of the impor rposes which are in mentione? figur machin- implements, lead and other raw ma- als, which have been used in the coun- try for the manufacture of arms and muni- ticns of war—the e of which must be very considerable—are mixed up with those imported for the general use of the people. If ali these items could be separated and deducted from the total of the imports, it would be seen that the foreign trade of the country during the last twenty-five y has been nearly half a hundred mi yen in favor of the Japanese. aboy ery If this morey had been spent in furthering the trades and industries of the country and its natural resources, instead of being used for military extension—the wisdom of which is now doubted by some of Japan’s most able statesmen—the finances of this count would not be in the deplorable condition they now are. Growth of Her Industries, But, in order the better to understand the growth of the principal industries of Japan during the last twenty-five years, the study of the following list of general exports will prove advantageous, becaus it indicates not only the increase gener- ally, but shows up conspicuously those in dustries which appear to be the most suited to the majority of the peopl I have taken 0: the years IS72, 1882 and 1896, because they show the increase during those reriods; for it would entail very considerable labor to give the shij ments of all the years comprising those periods, and vould be of little extra value. ‘The figures are as follo E-puts. 1872. 1896. Paper and books. 69,272 123 Drugs, dyes, ete 268,731 2,964,887 Grain, fh, sceds, fruits, vegetables. 1,265,074 4,303,336 13,903,198. Metals, metalware ete, 1,331,348 6,734,418 Oil and 4 438,109 760,824 Silk y am waste, cle 8,203,111 19,261,263 31,600,210 ther, skins, shells 7,864 _ 83,767 ‘Tea: tea dust, eed 7,029,718 i ind cotton unseat a : 13,602 169,819 21,014,759 Tobace a ro cttea ee 250,073 76,939 254,382 Coal, charcoal, oral wood, etc.. 416,308 1,444,167 10,431,010 "seel'ancous me paces 392,288 1,913,146 21,325,069 The introduction of machinery in connec- tion with the industries of the Japanese is so recent that at present it is very difficult to form even a remote idea of the effects of its application so far, and much less as to what they will be in years to come, be- cause there has not yet arisen sufficient competition among the Japanese them- selves to prove whether they have the abil- ity to apply it successfully in sufficiently large undertakings as to make it perma- nently profitable. A Double Competition. The time, however, is fast approaching, if it 1s not already at hand, when the test will begin, for the cctton and silk miils of Osaka and Kiyoto are nearing a straggle which is likely to severely test their pow- ers of indurance. The fall in the price of cctton and the large increase in the num- ber of these mills is bringing about a com- petition which must have very trying re- sults for all of them because, being so far away from America and India—the two great cotton supplying countries, their cheaper rew material has scarcely arrived before the cheaper manufactured yarns When a man neglects his health for a day he marks two day: off the calendar of his life. When he neglects his health for two consecu tive days he marks four f days off his life’s cal- and it doesn’t take many days to cross off an entire year. And yet men recklessly neglect their health for weeks at atime. It is the easiest thing in the world for the aver- age man or woman to get good health and then keep it. It only needs a little stitch here and there. The big, dangerous mali dies that threaten life are only the culmin: tion of the little illnesses that are lected. If when a man feels “ knocked - ont, “out-of sorts,” “ down,” overworked or overworried he will resort to Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery he will soon feel bright, strong and vigorous again and able to combat all the big maladies in the doctor- books. Moreover the “Golden Medical Discovery” is a sure and speedy cure for some of the most dangerous diseases. It cures 98 per cent. of all cases of consump- tion. It cures nervous prostration and ex- haustion. These are not mere assertions. Thousands of grateful men and women have testified to the facts, and hundreds of their mames, addresses and photographs are Tinted Dr. Pierce’s Common Sense ledical Adviser. “I used Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical for torpid liver and indigestion. cod obiaieed ent relief," writes J. A. Williams, Esq., of Kait'Brook, Washington Co., Tenn. Dr. Pierce's Common Sense Medical Ad- viser has had a larger sale than any other book of this class ever offered the public. This book of 1,008 pages with 300 illustra- tions, is full from cover to cover, of practi- cal advice on health matters, This great book, in heavy manilla covers, is now of- fered FREE to whoever will send 21 one-cent stamps to pay, for mailing only. gant Fren To cents extr: pensary Mi If an ele- cloth binding is desired, send I cents in all. World’s Dis- Association, Buffalo, N. Y. of these countries are brought here. There- fcre they have not only to meet compet tion among themselves, but the competi- Ucn from other countr and with the of doing this they have adopted the apparent sricidal policy of working night and day, so to léssen the visible cost of produc 1d do not appear to have ‘or sideration the ultimate dam- they may be causing lant and machinery. But, sides this, there is the great ac cumulation of which ts being made by this nigh ay work—an accumu lation for whi is no apparent de { mand hone and hikelihood of & t “4 1 to China and ot m 4 of the far cast in the near future The n of this requires moncy, if oniy fuel, ete., and as the m: t > mills have itttle or no res a some of them have been paying thirty to fifty per ce in a few cases, for two . the shates of all of them rapidly aad, im con ity of money in the countr wing of assistance by the nur banks who have been over anxious (o vence large sums to these hitherto v paying concerns, the best of them wiii not fetch their face value today and many of them are being offered at from thirty to fcrty per cent discount, but cannot find purchasers even at these very low rates, May Prove Beneficial. Having visited a number of these mills curing the last few weeks I feel sure that this approaching crisis will prove beneficial te the majority of them in the e shareholders are icft to themselv: over it; but if the governm their pleadings, as it bas done to so many others, who have »proached it the mo- ment any plausible excuse for help has presented itseif, then they will bring upon nselves difficulties far ter tha those with which they have now to co tend, th se, like all other people, can only strong by dearly purchased expericnce. and the sooner they have this the better it will be for them and fer these cotton-spinning mills in particular. The industries of Uh however, had a much more extended career have had to end with trials and culties. In fact, m: of them have been built up brick by brick, it w in spite Opposition and competition home and abroad, They have aiready stood the brunt of the battle and have consider- ably benetited the experiences of the strug: Tt w seen from the figures I have given ¢ P that the gre t velopment has taken place in silk-pro: i ving; then comes grain pro- duce lowe yseiy by tea, ‘The figures for and minerals, & though sati net as larg might be e considering how rich the country must be in ores of many kinds This, to my mir ows that the natural preference apanese is for agricultural and work. They never seem to tire fields, the woods aud the broad blue on W they will live for days together fn their boats, with nothing but a littie ric v ter and what they catch in their n them go into mill anufactorics, because they by doing sc. But there anese who do not think of the country home life without a longing desire to re- turn to it. P Country Life. To a for ¢ the hardships which the people have to endure in their rural work, the few comforts they seem to have and the hard and rough work they do often make life appear not worth living; but to the majority of the Japanese they are pre- ferred to the comparative luxuries of the towns and cities. It is for this on that hands for mines, mills and manufactories are so difficult to obtain, even at the high rate of wages which is now being paid, and e hen sufficient hands can be got the majority of them will not work more than half time unless they are compelled to do s by force. The people do not seem to take willingly to this new kind of work. They will try it for a time, and the ‘s of them will make a little money out of it, but the majority of them go back to their homes and their fields to breathe the pure and open air of that coun- y love so much, refore, be seen that although industries have been started by the Japanese, in many of which steam power and machin are largely used, and have so far proved satisfactory, they and in a very different position to the old industries of the people, which are carried on on a much smaller seale by hand labor alone. As i have said before, the former industries are yet far too young to enable any one to form even a vague idea as to their future, therefore it seems unwise for the Japanese government to continue to disburse funds in order to foster such undertakings, especially when funds are so very scarce. In my opinion it would be far better to leave them to fight their own way and use any money they may have at the disposal of the government in assisting the further development of those industries which have proved themselves worthy of support. ————— Mrs. Hautcng: “Ethel, it is very bad form to turn and look at a gentleman.” Bthel: “Yes, but, mamma, I was only looking to sea if he was looking to see if I was looking, that’s all.” ‘The longest horse jump on record is 37 feet. This was the-performance of Chan- ler at the Hunt steeplechase at Warwick, March 22, 1847, and hes never been beaten, $2 —____ What's in = Namet ‘Weekly. From Leslie’ First American—“Why do they call this game lacrosse?” . Second American—“Dunno, uniess it's ‘cause It's a sort of @ cross ‘tween shinny, and tennis.” *