Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, August 14, 1897, Page 6

ie ONDEMNED ==-TO- CHAPTER XXVIII—(Continued.) At this moment a waiter entered aad laid the cloth. and immediately after- and coffee, with toast and and ham and venison were The meal was not quite mufirs brought in. over when a nessage came from Ma- jor Burns to the effect that the boat Was waiting. jor Burns?” :nquired the lady, looking up frem her zoffee cup. “Yes, Mada , it is not a hired boat, Ybut a borrowed boat, the property of my neighbor, Major Burns, who is down 1 on business, and kindly offers to tuke us to the isle. Tell Ma- jor Burus that we will jeiy him in a ii said the captain to the vdingly, in something less than a quarter of sn hour, the whole Dp walsed down to the wharf, wh they found the major, the boat. our oarsmen, ume De Glacie, my friend, Ma- jor Burns,” said the captain, introduc- ng the parties. ame De Glacie,” repeated the s he handed the lady to a eat in the stern of the boat, hat is—that is—the same name little Daney’s! Yes, Madame is ar ion, a very near relation, of my little Daney,” interrupted the captain, in the tone of one who wished to drop the subject. The major bowed, and occupied him- self with making the guest comforta- ble. “Major Burns, my friend, Mr. Dun- bar, id the captain, presenting the young yer, as the major looked up from his work. bs) — who?” he inquired, s aghast at the stranger. “Dunbar, of London.” Well! if ever I saw such a likeness in all the days of my li he ex- imed, without withdrawing _ his ze; then, quickly recovering himself, he added: “I beg your pardon, Mr. Dun but, really, I wa ck by y ance to a young friend of mine. to make your acquair sir. How do you Co? Pray find ¢ and make y If comfortable. Lord bless my soul alive, the likeness is per- fectly wonderful. I should not be able to tell one from the other if I were to see them standing side by * concluded the major, sinking hort reverie. “Yes, the likeness is bewildering! It quite confused me, when I first met ii entlex ,” commented the cap- he kindly busied nimself with Elise near her mistress. oarsmen laid themselves to and the boat flew over the moonlit waters. It was, indeed, a love- ly night. The sun had long set. The full harvest moon was directly over- head, pouring Jown a flood of dia- mond-bright radiance upon the calm bosom of the waters. The wooded shores each side were cool and green in the de freshness of the summer Before them, up the creek, ng in the shadows the lovely jand. Madame De Glacie sat in the stern of the boat, gazing abstractly upon the beauty of the scene, and thinking, doubtless, of the daughter whom she hoped so soon to embrace. Her maid sat in respectful silence at her feet. Mr. Du r occupied a seat near the -eenter of the boat, and the major and the captain sat together in the bows. d they sped over the waters, the captain turned to the major, and, ina low voice, inquired: “What has occurred in the neigh- borhood? W this I hear about a ‘bride and groom “Um-me-me! w groaned the major, “See here, my old friend, you have Zo h ague! ou ought to have medi- cal advice, and you ought not to be out in the night air!” o, I'm sure I oughtn’t; but never mind me!” “You take advice to-morrow, now, will you?” en,"" “Be sure you do it; it will. not do to let these chills run on. But now tell ame, what about this bride and groom?” “What bride and groom?’ inquired the major, with his teeth audibly chat- tering. “Oh! I didn’t hear their names; but some bridegroom has been behaving badly to his bride—doing something for which he ought to be hanged. As far as I could gather from the conver- sation of the men in the bar-room of ‘the ‘Wheatsheaf,’ the delinquent bridegroom had gone to sleep in his arm-chair on te first night that he brought his bride home; and if he real- ly did that, I think hanging is a very mild punishment for sush an insensi- ble brute. Do you. know anything about it?” “Nothing whatever,” answered the major, with his teeth going like a pair of castanets, “Oh see here, you know, this won’t do! it will turn to a congestive ague! You must take something immediate- ly! Miss Elise, I dare say you have some brandy in your trayeling bag! Will you be good enough to dispense some of that water of life to my friend here?’ The femme-de-chambre, with a “Cer- tainment avec plaissir, Monsieur!’ produced a fairy flask, which Major urns unhesitatingly put to bis lips. “You feel better, now?’ said the cap- tain. “Better,” echoed the major. “Ah! it was only the night air. Old coves like you and I should be 4areful of ourselves. Aud now tell me, have you seen my little Daney since her marriage?” “T have not.” “Nor Fulke?” “Yes, I have seen Colonel Greville.” “How long since?” “On the day before yesterday.” “He was well?” “Yes.” “And Daney was also well, of course?” “I did not see her.” “Bother, man! you inquired after ring Tam ¢ BE The theis oa bride and groom?” lly shivering. j at this hour!” said the captain, impa- her, I suppose? and ean tell me how she was.” . The major did not reply. And the captain suddenly turned on him, saying: “See here, Major Burns? here is something wrong! Is my little Daney ill, that you do not reply?” “Upon my word and honor, I do not Know. I never heard she was ill; and I have no reason to suppose that she is.” said the major, telling a literal truth, but a spiritual falsehood. “Humph! I’m fidgety, I believe,” commented the captain, settling him- self to composure. “All is well, Monsieur, I hope?’ said the lady, who had overheard a part of the conversation. “Oh, y Madame! exeept that I am an irritable old bachelor, heaven help me! And now observe, Madame? how peacefully the little green wood- ed isle reposes upon the calm bosom of the water, while the forest-fringed sbores of the mainland seem to encir- cle the whole scene with an embrace? ‘Ten minutes more and we shall reach that lovely isle, and your daughter will be in your arms! Think of the | surprise and joy for her!” Her daughter! The captain had been betrayed into speaking out the truth. Major Burns heard and wondered, but did not ven- ture to ask an explanation of what appeared to him to be inexplicable Ww S. The little boat sped onward, and soon ran up into the tiny cove, the usu- | al landing-place at the isle. The captain sprang upon shore light- fy, as thouzh he had been eighteen in- stead of eighty —aanding out the mar- quise, leaving the maid to the civili- des of the young laviyer “I hope you will do us the pleasure of coming up to the house and spend- ing the evening, Major Burns,” said the captaia, without, however, the most Gistant idea shat the major would accept the invitation. “I must, I suppose,” answered the miserable little mayistrate in a sepul- chral tone, and to the infinite aston- ishmert of the old sailor, who again muttered to himself: “Something quite wrong about Burns! ve rong! can’t think what’s the matter with him! going crazy, I’m afraid!” But the mcemnt was too interesting upon other accounts to allow the hon- est old man’s mind to dwell upon the supposed caprices of his boon compan- ion; and so, taking the arm of Mad- ame De Glacie within his own, he re- spectfully conducted her toward the house. The evening was still beautiful in its green and dev summer freshness; the moon was still flooding woods and waters with her pure and radiant light; the island was always quiet and peaceful in the extreme, and especial- ly so at night; but now it was more than usually so; an air of awful still- | ness and solemnity seemed to over- hang the scene; every one felt its in- fluence. The captain sought to break the spell by calling out cheerfully to his companio! “How astonisned they will be to see us! How little people ever know what is about to happea to them next!” “How little, indeed!” groaned the major. “There you are, again, you old kill- joy! I'll tell you what, m: r,*you are suffering under a bad attack of indi- gestion! You've been eating soft crabs and watermelons and curds and whey, and deuce knows what else! and they have all fermented together, and filled your brain with foul vapors! But, nev- er mind! you come up to the house, and the sight of my pretty Daney and my brave Fulke will disperse them!” said the old man, heartily. “Um-me!” moaned the major. tain, as soon as you reach the house, consign the lady and her companions to Miss Hit’s charge, and then come away with me into the library. I wish to have a private interview with you!” “What! before I have embraced my little Daney, or shaken the hand of Fulke?” “Yes!” “T’ll be dashed, then (I was going to “Cap- say) if I do!” “Um-me!” groaned the major. “I say it, and I stand to it, that soft crabs are bad things to take! just see how they oppress you now!” growled the captain, who, having arrived at a satisfactory theory of the major’s in- disposition, firmly cherished the illu- sion. A few steps further brought them to the house. CHAPTER XXIX. ' “Why is it all shut up and dark- ened! And there is not a soul to be seen! Usually we sit out on the porch tiently springing upon the door-sill and sharply ringing the bell. Twice or thrice he rung it before it was answered. At length the door was opened, and Mandy appeared with a single candle and a scared visage. The hall was all in darkness, except for that one candle. “How do, Mandy? All well? Why are you in the dark? Where is your young master and mistress? Sitting at some back window, I suppose, gaz- ing at the moon. Show us into the drawing room, and let them know IL am here,” said the captain, hurrying question upon question, and, without waiting for them to be answered, heaping order upon order. But Mandy stood gazing upon him in bewilderment and great sorrow. “Well! why the devil (I was going to say) don’t you go?” Oh, Marse! oh, my poor, dear ole Marse! I go call Miss Hitable!” cried Mandy, rushing away with a perfect howl of distress. ‘ “Now what the demon (I was going to say) is the meaning of all this? Madame, let me lead you to the draw- ing room. There will be lights in a moment, I suppose. We have no gas in these remote regions, or I should ; the way, the lady into the saloon and guided | her through the darkness to a sofa. “Seat yourself, Madame, and I will go and see if I ean find any one. These lovers, you know, are mooning some- where or other, and*our sudden arriv- al has frightened that negro girl out of her wits. She is but a rustic,” ex- plained the captain,eas he felt about among the eushions, and arranged soon here. ‘an illumination,” said the old man, as he respectfully conducted them comfortably for the guest’s re~ pose. “Captain, eaptain, for the loye of heayen, come away with me some- where. I have something to say to you privately,” urged the major. “Presently, presently, my good friend; I must see to the comfort of my visitors first.” “Captain, for heaven’s sake——” “Now, don’t be irritable! It is all from the effects of the soft crabs; take care you don’t indulge in them again soon’? “Oh, heaven! it is you who will not hear reason! It is you who will not take advice! It ts you who will pull down an avalanche upon your own head, that might otherwise be broken in its descent! And before strangers, too! Heaven help you!” cried the ma- jor, in a voice of anguish. “What the devil (I was going to say) do you mean? What business can you have with me that cannot wait until L have made my guests comfortable and. embraced my little Daney?”’ “I will tell you if you will come with me into the library,” urged the dis- tressed little Irishman. “To the demon with you for a stur~ dy beggar (I was going to say;) can’t you comprehend that I cannot leave: Madame De Glacie until I have pre- sented her daughter and son-in-law to. her? Yes! that is the relationship, if you must know! You are aware: that I always said that my little Daney be- longed to some noble French. family, and so it has turned out! There, now, that is the reason why I cannot go with you to talk politics—or whatever it is! I must wait here to present my little Daney to her mamma. And, by where is my little Daney, and why the deuce don’t she come?” said the captain, in good-humored im- patience. “Oh, heaven! she will never come again!’ burst in desperation from the lips of the major. “Eh, what?’ exclaimed the old man; but before he could answer another word, the door was burst open, and Mandy appeared with a red and flar- ing lamp, that filled the rooms with a murky light, followed by Miss Hit, who, rushing past every one else, ran and threw herself upon the captain, shaking with agitation, and erying out with anguis! “Oh, captain! captain! oh, my poor, dear old friend!” “Why—what’s the matter?’ gasped the old man, now alarmed for the first time, and trying to stand up against the mountain of Miss Hit’s weight. “Oh, Daney! Daney!” “Where is Daney? What about Da- ‘ney? Is she ill?’ eried the captain, growing suddenly pale in the red glare. “Oh, she is dead! dead! oh, mur- dered, my dear acptain, murdered!” “Murdered? NO,” wailed the poor old man, in a voice perfectly indescrib- able in its blended expression of con- sternation, wonder, horror and ex- treme anguish. “Yes! yes! yes! murdered in her bedchamber, and dragged away and cast into the sea!” “NO! I say NO! it cannot, it shall not be true! Where is her husband? Where is Fulke Greville?” “Oh, it was himself that did it. Iv has been brought home to his door. He has been committed to prison to await his trial!” “No, I say no! it is as false as h—! Daney is alive and well! Fulke Gre- ville loves her as his own soul! They are away now somewhere, billing and cooing! DANEY! my little DANEY! answer me, child! where are you?” amed the captain, throwing off ‘S Hit, rushing from the room, and filling the whole ..ouse with agonizing cries. fiss Hit, you’re a horrible fool! you always were, and now you're a great deal worse! These late events seem really to have deprived you of the lit- | tle sense you ever had, and to have | cast you into your dotage. To go and overwhelm him in that way! You've driven him mad! Listen to him now!” fiercely exclaimed Major Burns, rush- ing out in search of his old friend, whose sharp, agonizing cries of “DA- NEY! DANEY!” were heard ringing through the upper chambers. “Help! Help! Madame has fainted!” called out the lady’s maid, in great alarm. “A glass of wine, for heaven’s sake, quick! the lady seems dying,” said Mr. Dunbar, bending over the swoon- ing form of the marquise, but speak- ing to Miss Hit. “Go. Mandy, and get it! I’m dying, myself, I believe!” sobbed the poor lady, sinking helplessly into a chair. Mandy ran and brought it, and Mr. Dunbar knelt by the side of Madame De Glacie and tried to force a few drops between her closed lips. “DANEY! DANEY!” sounded the piercing tones of the old sailor’s voice, afar off in the attics above. it was there Major Burns found him, The major, who had been very much agitated in anticipation of the effect this blow would have upon his old friend, now that it had fallen, became composed. He came upon the old mon roving wildly through the attic cham- bers, and calling, in a voice of piercing anguish— “DANEY! DANEY! where are you hiding, you little witch? It’s very cru- el of you to play off such a trick on your poor old grandpa! Daney! Da- ney! my child! come out They are making a jest here of the old man! come to me, my dear! Iam old! I¢im childish! I cannot bear jesting! Da- ney! Daney Daney, I say!” “Captain! what! captain; old friend!” cried the major, throwing his arms around him, and trying to stop him in his wild run—‘what, captain! my old friend! recollect yourself! compose yourself! be a man!” “Let me go! I want my Daney! I am famishing! freezing, ,until I find my Daney!—Daney! Daney! where are you, Daney?” he cried, breaking from the little major, and running madly down the stairs. At the foot of the lowest flight of stairs he was stopped: by Mr. Dunbar, who threw out his arms to arrestahis progress, and said, earnestly: “Captain! for heaven’s sake, try to calm yourself! It this be, indeed, true; for the sake of all who depend upon you in this awful crisis, be yourself!” “Stand out of my way, or I will knock you down! I want my Daney! And I will have her—yes, I will have her, though the earth or the sea has swallowed her! Stand out of my way, I say! When I fell a man, I finish | him!” cried the frenzied old sailor, hurling the youth from his path and rushing down into the lower regions of the house, where his voice was soon heard reverberating through the cel- lars in wailing cries of “Daney! Da- ney!” “I must go after hire! For heayen’s sake, send for a doctor! How is the poor lady?” eagerly spoke the little mayor. Her maid has got her into bed; she is very ill I have already sent to Corn- port for a physician. And I will go now and help you look after the cap- tain; you cannot manage him alone,” said the young man, following Major Burns dowa into the eclars. But the captain had already trav- ersed the whole extent, an@ hurried up the back stairs and out into the grourds, still waking all the silence of the night with agonizing cries upon the name of his Tost child.” They fol- lowed him a short distance behind, to see that he eame to no personal harm. As to restraining him, no two men could have done that, with the iron frame of that vigorous old octogenari- an, while his nerves were strung to the highest piteh of teasion by the frenzy of excitement. Through and through, over and over, round and round the island they followed him as he strode about. ealling im ear-piereing anguish upor the name of ais ehild. For hours they followed him thus, until at Iength they noticed that his voice grew weaker, and he reeled in his rum. Ther once more they at- tempted to lead him into the hous They eame, one on each side of him, and took his arms and placed their hands soothingly spon his shoulders, the major saying: “What, captain! what, old soldier! you, who have faced a thousand foes! you, who could fight a thousand fields! will you yield to the effects of any af- fliction it may please heaven to send! Rouse yourself, old sea-lion! Think no more of your child; she is at rest! Think of vengeance!” But their touch seemed only to sting him into new strength; breaking vio- lently from their hold, he ran on, call- ing as before. But his strength far spent; he reeled to and fro and staggered as he ran; his voice uiv- ered and faltered as he called, and, finally, when near the house again, he fell f yard on his face, breathing | forth in an expiring tone, the incohe- rent words: “Daney! Daney! I can see you no more, my child; I am dying and com- ing to you, my little Dane; They approached him very cautious~ ly. He was lying quite still. They took his hand; it was cold and pulse~ 6 They raised him gently im their he was quite insensible. hey carried him into the house and up into: | his chamber, where he remained like a dead man, “Shall I open a vein? I have some skill in bleeding a patient, and always carry a lancet about me,” said the ma- jor. “No; I would prefer that we should leave him to nature until the doctor's arrival,” answered the young amn. They sat, two anxious watchers, by the sick bed, until the dector was shown into the room. He took the very measure that had been previously recommended by Ma- jor Burns for the recovery of the pa- tient. He bled the old man; and as soon as he saw symptoms of returning consciousness, he prepared and admin- istered a composing draught that qui- eted his nerves, and he soon sank into a restoring sleep. The two anxious watchers remained in the room; the major extended upon the sofa, and the young lawyer seated upon an arm- chair. Meanwhile the doctor visited the bed- side of the lady. He found her sensi- | ble, though very weak, and attended by Miss Hit and her own woman, Madame Elise. He gave some careful directions for her treatment, and then retired to the parlors below, with the intention of remaining in the house until the moraing. Of the two sufferers, the lady was the first to recover the possession of her faculties. There were many good reasors for this. In the first place, she was younger and more elastic in constitution; next, she had been inured to suffering; then, she had never, since the infancy of her child, been accus- tomed to her society; therefore, her griet partook of the nature of a se- vere disappointment rather than that of a cruel bereavement; finally, she was pot without hope, and that is a great mental support. And thus it was that when she had taken the nervine stimulant prescribed by the doctor, she felt herself stronger and calmer, and turned to Miss Hit andsaid: “Madame, it was you, I think, who spoke of my daughter’s fate, for she was my daughter and only child. -Will you now be so good as to tell me all the particulars?” “Ma’am, it seems to me I never can do right, do what I may! You heard how that old brute of a Major Burns blowed me up for telling the captain?’ “No, I did not.” “Oh, no! so you didn’t! You had fainted! Well, he did, then! he called me a horrible fool, and said that I had driven the captain mad! And, now, you see, if you should be taken worse through anything that I should tell you, the blame would be laid on me.” “I shall not be worse; the danger of the first shock is past; the rest may be very cruel, but it can be borne! Tell me all you know of my child’s fate.” 'The major had told the truth of Miss Hit in one respect. The tragic events of the week had precipitated her to the verge of dotage, else she would never have ventured to relate to a fragile, nervous, invalid woman, the horrora of that fatal morning in the brida? chamber. It was well that she did so, however. “Fools rush in where an- gels dare not tread!” and often the feols are in the right of it. / 'The lady lay and listened calmly to the whole descriptive narrative, not only of the supposed discovery of the murder, but of Daney’s whole life at the island, as far as was known to Miss Hit herself—includirg Daney’s infancy, childhood and youth; her love, courtship and marriage; her ar- rival at the island; her supposed mur- der and its discovery; the suspicious circumstances that pointed out her bridegroom as the assassin; his ex- amination and committal to prison. *And you really suppose Monsieur le Colonel Greville to have been the pie are ges poe assassiir?” said the lady,. with ful coolness. “I do;.ma’am.” “Then I: do: not, Madame!” said the Italian lady.. “But why, ma’am?” “Siniply, Madame because I do not believe that there: has been any mur- der committed!" x “But, ma’am;. consider! the blood upot the floor!. the violent’ disorder of the furniture! the general evidence of a desperate stragz}4!" “Phose seeming evidences could have: been easily arranged for the very pur- pose of mislaading’ investigation. Whereas, if such a desperate struggle as they seem to: indicate had really taken place, it must have been heard by every person ii'the house. There- fore, you see, it could not have taken place. Consequently, my child could pot have been violently murdered; no —sh2 was quietly drugged and ab- ducted. Her unhappy husband was, no dcubt, also dragged into that deep sleep of which he spoke,” said the lady, with marvellous calmness, that Was dne, 29 Joubt, to the powerful nervine she had taken. Miss Hit began to gasp for breath. “If I thought—if I thought,” she said, “that there was any chance- of little Daney being alive, I should break my heart for pure joy?” “She is alive,” said the lady, with confidence; “and now T must see Mon-- sieur le Captaiae 1s soon as possible.” “The captain is very 11; the shock has nea killed aim! He is sleeping row under the influence of an opiate, and the two gentlemen are watching with him,” said Miss Hit: “Nevertheless, 1s soon as he awakes in the morninz, I must be admitted to an interview with him; for T have that to suggest to him which will restore him more effectually than all the doc- tor’s drngs.” “Ma’am, I think you had better try to go to sleep yourself, if you wish to be able to talk to the captain: to-mor- row. Here is your second draught; it is time to take it; and, really, if you wish to be well, you must lie still and not speak another word after yomhave swallowed it,” said Miss Hit; prepar-- ing the potion. “I believe you are right,” replied the lady, swallowing the liquid and then. composing herself upon her pillow. Madame Elise was already: asleep.. Miss Hit resolutely settled herself in the large arm-chair and closed her eyes. Her deep, sonorous. breathing scon assured the listener that she w: also in the land of dreams. It was long, however, before Madame De Glacie’s active brain yielded to the power: of the drug, and she likewise fell asleep. It was long after mid- night when she fell asleep. Under the influence of the powerful opiate she slept twelve hours—consequently, it was. very late in the day when she awoke. The composing effect of the drug had entirely passed off, conse- quently, with returning consciousness and memory came back the bitter pang of cruel disappointment and ter- rible anxiety. But, after all, sleep had recuperated her physical powers, and thus she felt stronger to bear mental troubles. She looked around herself. Her attendance was. changed. Miss Hit and Madame: Elise had both dis- appeared, and a cheerfullooking col- ored girl waited beside her. She sat in bed, and feeling quite equal to the effort of rising and making her toilet, she called upon the girl te assist her. But Mandy, for it was herself, only ran out of the room and down the stairs, and presently returned, accom- panied by Miss Hit, and bringing a cup of strong coifee. “How do you find yourself this morn- ing, ma’am?* inquired the old lady, sitting down beside her patient, while Mandy offered the cup of coffee. “I am better, thank you, and quite ready to rise. But how is Monsieur le Captaine?” inquired the lady, as she received the cup from the negro girl and quaffed its contents. “Lhe captain is quite composed; he seems to have come to himself; he ap- pears to understand it all now; and he is sitting up in his chair; to-morrow he is going to visit Mr. Fulke, I mean Colonel Greville, docter will not consent for him to go to-day.” “Will you sen] and inquire when he will receive me?” “He will see you as soon as you please, ma’am. He asked for you the first thing when he came to himself this morniaz; the doctor would not al- low you to be disturbed.” “Then send and let him know that I can be with him in ten minutes, if convenient to himself.” “Mandy, you go and tell your mas- ter that Madame De Glacie is awake, and will visit him almost immediate- ly,” said Miss Hit. Mardy disappeared to do her errand. Mad:me De Glacie made a hasty toil- et, ard had not quite completed it by the time Maidy had returned to say that her master would receive the lady at once. “Will you be so good as to attend me, Madame?’ inquired the marquise. Miss Hit got ap, panting and blow- ing, 1ad_ preparel to comply. ‘They went togetier to the captain’s apart- ment, which was a spacious front room on the right-hand side of the central hall, and, of course, directly opposite to the fatal bridal chamber, wiich, by the way, had been the tem- porary sleeping apartment of Madame De Glacie. They found the captain seated in his large arm-chair at the open window. An untasted break- in his prison; the | fast stcod neglecied on a little stand | by bis side. He looked fearfully broken since the night before. He tot- tered to his feet to greet his guest, but immediitely sank back exhausted into his clair. Even that little effort had been too much for his exhausted nery- ous system. But the lady approached him with looks full of sympathy. compassion ard respect, saying, as she took both his uands: “Courage! my dear and good friend! your little Daney is not dead; nor is tiere any good reason for supposing he» Gead; therefore, she still lives; I feel sure of it; I, her mother, who can- not be deceived!” “Ah, then, Madame, if such be the case, if she has not been basely mur- dered, what, then has become of her?” moaned the captain. “She has been abducted, just as she was before, by the same parties, and for the same purpose! I feel fell as- sured of that! but, courage, Monsieur! we shall see her again! She is no long- er a baby, as she was in the first in- stance! She is a young woman with memory, judgment, and will, if I read her portrait aright. She will not suf- fer herself to be wronged; she will Cheer up, Monsieur have not found my long-Iost 4 after so many: years of ugharr, ; lose her’again so soon forever. 7 Aa more trust in Providence he lieve that! We shall recover her soon- She will be safe! Be Courage, old friend!” CHARTER XXX. But hope: is: slow to returm to the aged.. The:old mam looked m at the fair speaker, saying, sadly: “\fadame; Major Burns has just left me; he: presided at the investigation of this mystery; he has told me ev- erything; and he leaves me without a hope in the world:”” “[ have-also heard all, Monsieur, and I remain fall! of. hope;” said the lady, firmly. “What!’ have they told you all?” ex- claimed the captain; in astonisiment. “Everything!” & “The—the ate of herbed chamber on the morning cf the discovery?” “Yes, Monsieur!” “The: facts brought out in the in- yestigation before the magistrates?” “Yes, Moasi cur!” “And—and—the—tlie—strong ¢ircum= stantial’evidence against my nephew ?” inquired the old man, in a deeply-agi- tated and juavering voice: “Yes; yes, yes, Monsieur le Captaine. I know all that is known: to anyone in this house.” “And you still hope?” “And T still hope!” “Ah, Madame, you so galvanize this dead body that'I am back to life again! But give me the grounds for your hope?’ How do you get over the des- perate: struggle: for life im Ter bed- room?” eagerly’ inquired the eaptain. “Simply by knowing that no such desperate: struggle; with its szeconipa- nying shrieks, and groans and falls, could possibly lave taken place, with- out baying aroused the whole house! No one in the ‘ouse heard # sound that night; therefore, no suchastruggle could have taken place; and, there- fore, the false evidenecs of the imag- inary struggle were artfully produced for the purpose of misleading investi- gation. 'lhis: could easily be done by quietly overtursing a few ehairs, drawing away a few tables and rend- ing a few draperies——* “But the spots of blood, Madame?” “Dropped, probably, from someone's finger, cut for the very purpose.” “But the facts Drought out during the magistrates” Investigation?” “ATL these facts were manufactured by the kidnappers.” “And—the cirmeumstantial evidence against my: nephew?” “Tere: coincidences.” “Then you do not believe that Pulke Greville could have had any hand in this murder?” breathlessly exclaimed the captain. “NO?!"—emphatically answered the lady—“how could he haye had—being your nephew?” “God bless you for these words, lady; for I know that he could not have had!" “Besides, I repeat, no murder has been committed! This is a ease of kidnapping! and the kidnappers, ¥ conceal their own erime, have artfull >} arranged all these false signs, to pi duce the impression that they, in fact, have produced, namely—that the bride has been assassinated by the bride- groom! Listen, Monsieur le Captaine! to explain the reason of my belief, I must go back some years, to the date of my daughter’s infancy. My attor- ney has teld you of her first abduetion # by supposed gipsies?” “Yes, Madame.” “But he did not pretend to assign any motive fer the abduction?” “No, Madame, he did not.” “No; for no one except myself ever suspected that motive; but a mother’s instincts aré not to be deceived. I knew the instigating motive and the instigating man. I could have put my hand upon the man and laid bare the motive!” “And you forbore to do so, Mad- amie?” “Yes; for moral conviction, however strong, is not legal evidence. I never breathed my suspicions, or rather, I sould say, my certain knowledge of | the criminal, to any human being. To have done so would have been to show my cards before playing them of slow my cards befere I had an oppor- tunity of playing them! in other words, it would have put the criminal on his guard! But to you, Monsieur, I feel that I can safely impart this know- ledge.” “Indeed you can, Madame! The vi- tal interest I feel in little Daney would teach me discretion, even if I had ney- er possessed that virtue,” said the cap- tain, earnestly. “I am sure of thst, Monsieur, and s I will go on with. my Sxgisameona’ The criminal, then, of whom I speak, is my brother-in-law, the younger brother of my husband, the present Marquis De Glavie. I am certain that it was at his instigation that my child was first stolen.’ “Good heaven, Madame! the child’s own uncle! the orphan’s natural guard- ian! He who should stood to her in the place of a father?” “Even so, Monsieur, for he was a bad man!” “An unnatural monster, and no man! Bug the motive, Madame! the motive?” “It was sufficiently obvious, Mon- sieur! it was to get possession of her vast wealth; for my darling, though she could not heir her father’s large landed estates, yet inherited a vast funded property, which, in case of. her dying bisairhan ae to her father’s } ger brother, the present De Glacie”” etd “Oh, lady, lady, be sure of what-ypu Say, before you accuse a human wéing of so black a crime!” cried man, recoiling in horror from that had been told him. rf To Be Continued. A Bar for Women Bleyelers. Washington has a temperance bat» room for bicycle women. It is a Pennsylvania avenue, three blocks from the capitol, and is asa bar, except that sure of op