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==> J | 8 eR OTT a ee BY GUY THORNE The Thrilling Story of a Mother’s Love and a woman.”—Lord Byron. “Sweet is revenge, especially to a - Woman's Hate CHAPTER 1IV.—(Continued.) She paused, struggling with her emotion. “He came back to consciousness just before he died,” she said, in a faint voice, “and he whispered to me to look after Fitzroy. ‘They'll go for the little chap now,’ he said. ‘They've done for me, old girl.’ Then he said, ‘God bless you!’ and those were the last words he ever spoke. He was dead in an hour, “From that day to this, Michael, nothing has ever happened, except once. I received a letter about a year ago. From the postmark it had been posted in the West Central district. It was a square sheet of paper on which a few words were typewritten. I forget the exact words, though ‘I have the paper locked away, and I have never liked to look at it since. But the words were to the effect that { might think myself very happy and love my little son very much, but that I should pay in bitter sorrow for my happiness. The words were quite plain and brutal. ‘The man you got to marry you aad to whom you bore a child,’ they said, ‘has gone from you forever. But there is a fate stronger than you can fight against which will take your child from you also. Then it will be your turn. Husbandless, you shall drag out a long and painful life in an agony that you can only guess at, but which is as sure and inevitable as the passing of time.’” Michae] started up, his hands clenched, his eyes blazing with pity and anger. The duchess raised her beautiful white hands and her head fell into them, while she shook with a storm of agonized tears inexpressibly dreadful to see. Oh,” she sobbed, “I’ve never told any one, but it has been hanging over me all these years. And now it has come at last. They have taken my boy. The blow has fallen. Michael, i am the most unhappy woman in England.” He did not know what he could do or say in the presence of a grief so dreadful, a sorrow so sinister and strange. He knelt down beside her and gently took one trembling hand in his. “There is only one thing that you can do, Beatrice,” he said, in a low, steady voice. “You can trust in me. I am strong, I am not afraid. I swear that I will penetrate this mystery, vanquish these dreadful terrors of yours, find Fitz for you, and bring what seems to be a foul conspiracy to the light.” She ra d her head swiftly and looked him straight in the face. The tears were still welling up in the love- ly eyes, the perfect mouth was drawn into sweet piteousness, like a wound- ed rose. But there was a slight hope upon her face as she answered him. “I feel this,” she said, gravely; “in all my agony I feel this. It is a great relief to have told you everything. We shall know more about it all very soon, when the people we have sent for come; and meanwhile—’ “And meanwhile,” he broke in, “I am going to devote my whole self to your service. Of course, the hidden figure behind it all is. She nodded with a little frightened . nod. “It must be,” she whispered. “Tell me,” he said, “if you can. Tell me quickly, before any one comes. Where, and what, is the Princess So- phia now?” “She has never married,” she an- swered, with a shudder.” Her brother, the Grand Duke George, reigns Wohlau-Landskrona. The princes | lives alone with her ladies in the Cas- | tle of Gmunden, on the Rhine. She is said to devote her life to good | works among the peasantry of the dukedom. Nobody knows much about her. She is thought to be eccentric. But, Michael, Michael, her arm _ is long!” Suddenly she rose and began to tremble exceedingly. The sense of her loss, the whole horror of the situa- tion, had come upon her in a swift flood. “My boy!” she said. “My dear lit- tle boy! Where are you? Where are you?” Her voice was rising into a high note. Michael her in an agony of impotence when the door of the room was suddenly thrown open, and with the pomp and ~ parade of the ducal household, which even at this moment of distress and excitement could not be entirely sup- | pressed, the butler announced, °“Sir Anthony Hellier.” A little, thick-set, black-bearded man in evening dress, followed by a tall person in an over- coat who was not announced, came hurriedly into the room. It was not three minutes after the entrance of Sir Anthony and = Mr, Downes‘from Scotland Yard when the old duke of Perth himself hobbled in, leaning on the arm of his valet: Miss Decies was sent for and joined the group. ; The doors were shut, and the duch- ess, half-fainting, prompted and helped by her aunt and Michael Grant, told the astonishing story of the night. The old duke mumbled and splut- tered in amazement, and in almost senile incapacity to grasp the situa- tion. The president ef the local govern- ment board, the little duke’s other | one thing at least. in | Al | great and splendid house. was standing before | guardian, fired off sharp booming questions at random, as if he were being heckled in the house of com- mons, Miss Decies did her best to explain what had occurred, and Remington was Called in to tell, in detail, his own part in the search. The room seemed full of people and celamorous with conflicting voices—a medley of excited sound, a medley in which every one was undecided and nothing seemed certain or possible. Mr. Downes stood a little aside, watching the extraordinary scene with something of the eager interest of one who surveys a brilliant tableau upon the stage. He was quite calm and impassive; though, as a matter of fact, his whole mind was thrilling with the excitement of the moment, a moment in which he found himself caught up from an office on the em- bankment and plunged into an inner room of a great ducal house, where some of the most famous people in England were gasping and chattering like frightened sheep. The duchess lay back with closed eyes. Once more she was near a swoon. There was a sudden lull in the clamor of excited talk. Every one had said all they could think of to say; they all found themselves brought up suddenly against a wall of negation. “Good heavens! This is mon- strous!” Sir Anthony Hellier barked out. “What’s to be done? What does it all mean?” “Allow me, gentlemen,” said Mr. Downes at this juncture. “Another search must be made, under my direc- tion, if you please.” “Yes, yes, yes,” mumbled the duke of Perth. “Yes. Search. Quite good. Most important.” The detective surveyed the group, and then turned suddenly to Michael Grant, who stood upon his left. “Now, sir,” he said, in a swift, de- cisive voice, “I will ask you to help me organize the second search. You and I can see that everything is done as it should be done, Mr. Michael Grant.” The duchess trieq to rise. “Ah, yes,” she said, in a faint voice, speaking to the detective. “Yes, you go with Mr. Michael Grant. He will help you. We can depend on him.” Downes whispered for a moment in Grant’s ear. Grant turned to the [house steward. “Come out into the hall at once, Remington,” he said. And the detect- ive, the athlete, and the head servant of London house walked swiftly from the room. Downes was last. Just before clos- ing the door he turned. “Your grace,” he said, looking at the duchess, “if you, Sir Anthony, the duke, and this lady will remain here for half an hour, at the end of that time we shall be able to give you ab- solute information.” With that he gently closed the door and turned to Michael Grant. “And now, sir,” he said, “you and I can get to the bottom of this!” The exigencies of the detective’s professional career had taught him He knew strength | when he saw it, and his own acute common sense did not fail him when it was necessary to enlist the strong man, And now began another and even more systematic examination of the The servants were again marshaled and ordered under the aegis of the man from Scotland Yard. Eager as they had been before, and careful as their examination of every room had been, the scrutiny was now far more minute and careful. Among | all the thirty or forty people, more or | less, who ministered to the well being and smooth running of the great house, there was now not only a sense of personal honor involved, but a deep- | ening consciousness that things were | very serious indeed. The tall: figure of the man with the light moustache and in the blue lounge suit represent- ed for all of them a concrete some- thing, and that something was the law —the law which lies deep in the heart of every Englishman as the one great rule by which he must, and will, order his life. The same influence that makes a single stalwart constable in uniform able to control a raging and excited mob was at vork upon the servants of the ducal house. They became pup- pets in the hands of Downes, Reming- ton and Michael Grant, while the au- | tomatic certainty of their obedience was defined and controlled by the presence of the man from Scotland Yard. The second search was as vain as the first, The nurseries were as they had been, and the only discovery made in the: bed'room was that one large win- dow was ‘open a few inches at the bot- tom. This window looked down into the small, high-walled court yard, at the back of the house; but it was a sheer drop of fifty or sixty feet, and the detective, who examined the out- side of the sill with a candle, could see no marks or scratches which would suggest that the missing child had been conveyed away in this man- ner. The ball room, picture gallery, occu- pied bed rooms, state bed rooms, bou- doirs were all alike scrutinized with absolute scrupulousness. In the middle of the search Miss Decies was seen coming up the great central staircase towards the gallery. “Whot is that lady?” Downs whis- pered to Michael Grant. “Miss Augusta Decies,” the athlete whispered back. “Her Grace’s aunt; a very shrewd and sensible old lady, I think.” “Then she'll be a help to us,” the detective answered. “I expect she’s got a little tired of the duke of Perth and Sir Anthony in the drawing room, and, of course, the duchess herself is naturally too upset to be of any use. It’s a strange thing, Mr. Grant, but I've always found that the aristoc- racy, with all their cleverness in oth- er directions, are generally singularly at fault and useless when anything really happens. You'll excuse me, sir, for saying this. You’ve come, madam, to give us your assistance, I hope?” “Has anything yet been discovered, inspector?” Miss Decies said. “Haven’t you found anything yet? I’m afraid her grace will have a “ollapse in a few minutes. It will b., as well to send for Sir William Larus. Where have you been, Mr. Grant?” “We have been everywhere, Decies,” Michael answered. “And you’ve found nothing at all?” she asked. “There’s something very queer here, madam,” the detective broke in, “be- cause we really have not found any- thing at all.” As he spoke they had been walking towards the door which led into the old lady’s private apartments. “Come in here for one moment,” she said. “Give me your ideas of what can have happened.” They entered the sitting room, brill- iantly lit with electric light, as was the bed room which opened into it. Miss “Now, then,” Miss Decies asked, turning to the detective, “what is your opinion? What can have hap- pened?” “Madam,” the man answered, pull- ing at his moustache in angry irrita- tion, “we have been through every room in this house, and we have dis- covered nothing at all. To cut it short, madam, I confess myself abso- lutely at a loss.” The old lady and the man from Scotland Yard were facing each oth- er, and Michael Grant was standing a little on one side. As the inspector made his frank confession he thought he saw that the old lady’s clasped hands suddenly relaxed, and he im- agined at that moment that a look al- most of relief came upon those hard old features. The thought came to him and pass- ed, and it was not not until long after- | wards that he remembered it. “Then what is to be done?” Decies asked. “The only thing, madam,” the de- tective replied, “is to go downstairs and tell the duchess that we hay, failed to discover anything; only we had better do that at once, and then I will telephone to my chief and some more men will be sent up immedi- ately.” “You're quite right,’ Miss Decies said, tapping Downes upon the arm, “and there is no time to be lost. Come down at once and tell them.” With that she swept out of her room and Grant, with the detective, followed her quickly. They all went down the great stair- case together and walked across the hall to the door of the small blue drawing room. ' A Strange Episode Which Concludes the Fourth Chapter. Capt. Basil Marriott Lad left the Cocoa Tree club with his father close | upon 6 o’clock. The admiral had gone | back to the Albany, and Basil to his own rooms in Jermyn street. The admiral was dining in Cadogan square, while Basil himself had no had no dinner engagement. Father and son, however, were to meet at Mrs. Edward Isaacs’ dance in Half Moon street. (To Be Continued.) Miss Theater Folk Are Superstitious. Theatrical people, says Success Magazine, are proverbially supersti- tious. I know of one great actress who never goes on the stage: without first crossing herself to insure good luck. Some of our greatest stars would perhaps retire from the stage if they should lose the horseshoe which is nailed to the lid on one of their trunks, and could not get another. Mrs. Leslie Carter always raps three times on the wings before walking on the stage, and she thinks this precau- tion will banish all evil influences. When Mary Anderson was on the stage she never dared to peep through the curtain while the house was fill- ing. Many theatrical people constant- ly carry around with them for luck “the left hind foot of a graveyard rab- bit kiled by the light of the moon.” Radium and Vaccine. An Italian physician who exposed fresh vaccine virus to the emanations of radium for varying periods and then made use of it in vaccinating children found that there was no ef- fect on the action of the virus pro- duced by the exposure to the rays, but that the pustules produced by the virus were entirely free from any sep- tic suppuration; there was no inflam- matory area and no fever. He finds that this is an efficient method of purifying vaccine virus, but on ac count of the expense of radium not one that can be-commonly followed. It takes more than a mushy manner to make one a minister of the bread of life. r AN INTERESTING PAINT TEST There is a very simple and interest- ing chemical test by which to detect impurity in paint materials. Thou- sands and thousands of people, all over the country, are making this-test. It is a sure way to safeguard against the many adulterated white leads which are on the market. Any one can make the test—all that is needed is a simple little instrument which may be had free by writing National Lead Company, 1902 Trinity Building, New York, and asking for House- owner’s Painting Outfit No. 49. The cutfit includes also a set of color schemes for exterior or interior paint- ing, or both, if you wish, and a book of specifications. No houseowner should make any arrangements for painting till he gets this outfit. One can’t expect a satisfactory paint- ing job without pure white lead. There is a way to make sure you're getting a pure white lead—without testing it. See that the keg bears National Lead Com- pany’s famous Dutch Boy Painter trade. mark, which is a positive guarantee of purity. Your dealer probably has this white lead. If not let National Lead Company know. Solving the Milk Problem. “We are thinking of keeping a cow,” said Mrs. Lapsling. “A neighbor of ours has a big vacant lot where we can pasteurize her.” STATE OF Onio Crry o¥ TOLEDO, } 44 Lucas County. FRANK J. CHENEY makes oath Bt he_is_seniot partner, of the firm of F, J. CHENEY & Co.. doing in the City of Toledo, County and State aforesaid, and that said firm will pay the sum of ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS for each and every case of CaTARRH that cannot be cured by the use of HALL's CaTARRH CURE. Sworn to bef a ete Ngee aed lore me and subscril in my presence, this 6th day of December, A. D., 1886. i ~—— A. W. 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