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L. 9’: f “ Brought on by what?” “ She appears to wish the execution of those two men over.” “I thought as much : but why should she have a thought for their fate 9” and an angry flush came upon the face of Mazula. “She says that she saved their lives at the risk of her own, and a rs to feel that she saved them from a doe from drowning, to have them die by torture. “ So it impresses her, senor.” , “ Well, in a few more hours they will have taken the Death Leap and then I hope she will t over this attack. ‘ ‘ She should not have delayed their doom un- til after the féfe; but hark! there isthe tocsin sounding for the executioner to go to the Fort so I an Senor Luka is anxious to have in r mess for the affair tocome ofl just at midnight, and be done with it. “ But have you any idea, Senor Ramon, may I ask you in confidence, who thisexecutioner is? “No, senor, he keeps his secret well; but I must go again to see how the Queen is,” and Senor Ramon left Mazula, who little dreamed that he was the executioner, and some minutes after was passing through the village in his scarlet suit as the man of death. The Island Rovers were naturally supeisti- tious, and seeing the man in red passing, a si- lence fell upon them until he had gone by. On he went, straight to the Fort, and there discovered Senor Luka apparently suffering great in. “ A , sefior, what is it, ma I ask?” “I am really ill, Senor orte, and I would like to have you look 11 Sailor Doctor Ramon and send him to me, for cannot understand my attack. “ 1 was seated here for quite awhile this after-. noon, talking with Senor Ramon, and we had su per together, and soon after he left I was ta an ill.’ “ I will go for him at once, Sefior Luka; but have you an orders for me, for the tocsin sounded my i” “Yes,” and uka shuddered, for in spite of all of his dealings with the executioner had not become accustomed to his presence. .Itwasthis verythingwhich had caused the old Ki , the first chief of the Island Rovers, notto a whispeopleto knowwhethe execu— tioner was. . ‘ upon his form, clad in bri ht red tri with black, his masked face an gloved hands, the fingers of which ended like claws, while his feet went off into a Mephustian point, Senor Luka“ seemed to feel ill at ease in his presence, so said quickly: “ Yes, I need you, for I will not be able to lead those two doomed men out to take the Death Leap to-ni ht, unless Senor Ramon gets me over this attac very quickly, and you must do all alone, should I not be there.” “ I can do so, sober, and will. “ i will be here before midnight, and if you are ill, or sleeping, will not disturb you, so you had better give me the keys now.” “ Here they are; but now, good Morte, pray look up Senor Ramon for me, as I am suffer- in .” The executioner took the keys and hastened awa . to reappear within a short while as Doc- tor mon. ' That Senor Luka, whose supper had been medicated by Ramon, was kept too ill to get up and lead Dunbar Kennon and Paul forth to exe- cution, can well be understood by the reader, and he was given a sleeping-potion that the exe- cutioner meant should keep him asleep until mormng. - And before midnight, when the Island Rovers were asleep, driven to their cabins by the storm which had broken upon the sea after nightfall, Sefior Mortc, the executioner, went to the stronghold to lead the prisoners forth, as though to take the Death Leap over the cliff. CHAPTER XXXIII. AT LAST. FROM some cause, known only to himself, the master of Clondlands began to fail in health, soon after the departure of his son. He did not seem to suffer from any particular disease, but, as Valerie had written Dunbar Kennon, he grew nervous. could not sleep at night, and wished to have an attendant with him at allitimes. He would pass a great deal of his time sleep- ing in the library by day, but the. slightest sound disturbed him. and by night he got so that he never retired to bed, but kept a bright light in the hall, his own rooms and the library. Valerie seemed greatly distressed regarding ‘- . him. but kept her anxiety to herself, being ever most cheerful in his presence, and proposing a dozen schemes daily to draw him away from himself. Under pretense of being deep] interested in some new books, she read them a and to him at ni ht often remaining up until one and two 0‘500 , until it began to tell upon her. She would go on her rides by do y, more often alone on horseback, and she was surprised how often it was that she met F rank Fairfi'eld on such trips. Now she would come upon him riding along the road. Then he would be seated upon the banks of some small stream fishing, while again she would meet him,gun on shoulder, in some forest- th. palt would appear to be accident, these meet- ings, and yet one or the other or both were to blame for them, for somehow they seemed to understand just where to find each other. As days went by at Cloudlands Captain Ken— non grew more and more nervous, and the trou- ble he suffered under, whatever it was, began to tell upon him. His hair whitened and his beard became iron- gray, while his face was haggard and upon it rested the impress of deep suffering which ap— peared to be mental. But if he had a secret which gave him pain be locked it up in his own breast. His affairs were most prosperous, for he told Valerie that investments which he made for her and for himself had quintu led in value and made him more than a mi] ionaire, while she was a very rich young lady indeed. Cloudlands was kept up in grander style than ever, and where more servant-i were added to the household, the stables were filled with the finest horses and carriages. A new 'acht, a pretty schooner had been built, and er skipper and crew of four men were kept constant y on board of her. As his health failed Captain Kennon seemed to seek relief in society the more, and often were entertainments given at Cloudlands, with drives to some pretty picnic-grounds miles away, sails on the river and other enjoyments to break in upon the suffering of a man who evidently was already doomed. and yet strove to distance death in the race for life. The neighbors accepted the hospitalities of Cloudlands and enjoyed them greatly, while all the young men were in love with Valerie, in spite of her being engaged to Dunbar Kennon, and all of the maidens were envious of her won— drous beauty, powers of fascination and riches. Of course from all this gayety Frank Fairfield was shut out. in fact he seemed to make a recluse of himself since his well-nigh fatal duel, going to see no one, and always alone roaming the forests, or sailing upon the river, for he had had a little yacht built for himself. and though he had never yet learned to swim seemed to take great pleasure in cruising about the waters adjacent to his home. So matters stood at Cloudlands about the time that Dunbar Kennon received the letter from Valerie bidding him come home and see his fa— ther, whose health was failing. And while the youn ‘ sailor and Paul were meeting with strange a ventures, in the endea— vor to reach Cloudlands, the master of that su- perb home was gradually becomin weaker and weaker. and each day slept less an less and had been told by the doctors that they could do no 1 » v umae..esmcs: upon-«Ins. anal-a afl'W'fiaA—s‘b - k. aifidm .llill' “will ,. “ \Ve doctor your body, Captain Kennon; but the trouble iswith your h t and brain and you alone know what that is, 309.5 to remove thecause,” the doctor had frankly said to him one day. Captain Kennou started at this, his face he- came white as death and he gasped forth: “Who said that I had cause for brain and heart trouble? “ Who dares say I have been guilty of an act to cause remorse to break me down?” “ No one says so, captain, other than what I feel is the case, and I assure you until you re— move the cause of your present troubles, you will never géow better.” Captain ennon made no reply and the doc- tor soon after departed. Then he began to pace up and down the piaz- m, muttering to himself: “ Remorse the cause—heart trouble, brain worry—why he seems to have read my soul. “ No! no! mortal man cannot do that. “ Remorse the cause! Great God! that is what it is.” From that day Captain Kennon began to fail more rapidly. But he kept up until the very last, and when forced to give in from lack of strength, he would not go to bed but took to an easyechair in his library. Through the day he slept as he could, with Valerie with him, and at night two servants were at his side to amuse him as best they could. “ He cannot last much longer, Miss Ross- more,” said the doctor one night. “He must die within the week, so you had better ask him about his affairs,-if all is ar- ranged, for I shall tell him that. the end is near,” knees in the bottom of the boat with his hands “ Oh! that Dunbar were only here i” cried clasped, got upon his feet, with his composure in Valerie, and, as she spoke a carriage rolled up a reat measure restored. to the door and she uttered a cry flay as by , ‘ Now is a good time for the west wing,” said the moonght she recognized the form of he, solemnly addressing himselfto Marion. “ He Dunbar ennon spring out of the vehicle and won’t be a le to get a handful of the band to- ascend the broad steps to the piazza. geiher between now and midnight. And even (To be mtimwd—commcnced in No. 264.) then it is doubtful if he will return to the house at once.’ “ Goodl”said Harold. around at this point?” “ Wedo not go around bfihe inlet,” ex lained Marion, “ which would to pass t rough the midst of the band, bv this time swimming and splashing about in Holy Cross Cove. We must cut across country. and Indian Dickey shall be our guide. I would not be able to find the way by night.” This was accordingly done, the youth silently leading the way over the rugged. wooded coun- try, lantern in hand, Harold and Marion coming next, and Jerry bringing up the rear, also with , CHAPTER XL. A SUPERNATURAL MANIFESTATION. IT was a ghastly and at once a beautifully im— pressive sight -the legended Burnt Tree thus wreathed in sparkling fire, prompt to the storied hour, and as if in full and convincing corrobora- tion of its supernatural reputation. The display lasted but a moment. Then there was an explosion apparently from somewhere in the interior of its rugged and charred old trunk, followed by the sulphurous smell of powder-smoke, and all was gloomy as before, with only the mystic moonlight yellow- ing‘and silvering over the spot. hen there was a terrified murmur and the tramping sound of many men rushing down the hill, t the ravine. toward the lake. “ hat is all that?”v-asked Harold. “ The band,” said Marion, “are rushing for the exercising waters of Holy Cross Cove.” “ Ohol there is immunity against the threat- ened curse in those waters, eh i” “ Most of them think so, at all events. They must continue bathing therein until after mid- night to ward off the Burnt Tree’s blighting in- fluence. Such is the superstition.” . Here two men were seen running by after the crowd, cursing and swearing at them as ignora- muses and cowards. Ere they fiitted by Harold recognized them as Mr. Bernard and the pseudo Major Moreton. “ The last one there,” said Harold, “is the dead-alive cashier, Redfield, you think i” “ Say that I’m sure of it,” said Marion. “ But where was old Guernsey i” “ Doubtless, heading the curse-frightened fu- gitives. There is hardly a more credulous fool among them in this respect than he.” Here Indian Dickey, who had been on his “ Can we turnthe boat TRYING TO KNOW. BY HARM" m WARNIB. When knowledge comes to man as his due right, And wisdom springs to life within his brain; Thoughts bud, and grow, and burst in purer light, And the immortal asks the mortal to explain. And ponderous questions wake the sleeping soul Of the why, and wherefore of—they know not what; The deity within would know the whole, But mortal cannot pass the narrow lot. a, lantern. our mighty worm is u “mm, of sand, They seemed to have the solitude wholly to Amid the myriad hosts of shining stars; themselves. How then can mortals hope to understand The all of problems that an earth-life bars! B dint of ceaseless toil and endless thought 0 almost reach some mystery of earth. Then, flushed with pride o‘er deeds our minds have wrought— We strive to push the limit of our birth. But, strong we find the walls that hold us in; And though we peer beyond our narrow sphere And catch a glimpse of what we try to win, We only know of what is given us here. Save for their rustling tread the silent loneli- ness of the night.was unbroken. Even the house itself, as they approached it, gave forth no flickering lamp-ray or other sign of life, and it was only as they neared the west . wing that the huge bloodhounds began to set up their ferocious barking. They extinguished their lanterns, walked around the place several.timcs, while kee ing well back in the tree-shadows, and care ully studied the grim exterior in the moonli ht. Marion had already explained as we 1 as she could the apparent impregnability of the wing. All eyes now instinctively turned to Jerry, whose herculcan stren h, allied With his cool indomitableness, seem to constitute him as the principal actor, if not the leader, in the imme- diate enterprise. He seemed to accept his tacit election to the work with his accustomed modesty. “The man and woman in the covered way don't seem to show up,” he whispered to Marion. “Wouldn‘t the dogs’ barkin’ be apt to make ’em alert?” “Not necessarily, I think. The dogs often bark at apparently nothing — at times half- And when we pass our little world, to view The myriad stars that gem the brow of night, Though needlepoints they seem amidst the blue, They are mighty worlds if sages say aright. And if they are. what people there abide? And from what tree of knowledge do they learn? And whence they come and go an who their guide? We ask, but limits wait at every turn. But when at last, the limits are no more, And We ave passed the narrow bounds of time, Perha s we‘ll find upon a broader shore, A w der limit for a soul sublime. THE through the night.” “ Humph! And they—the Boomers, I mean, not. the dogs—are they provided with fire- ‘Hurricane Detective; THROUGH THICK AND THIN. A Romance of the Tolls and Meshes ol‘ the Great City. arms?” ' “ That I do not know." “ Humph! And you say that they—the dogs, I mean, not the Boomers—are not to be coaxed with ’izened food ?” “T e wouldn’t touch the choicest food you could 0 er them.” “ Well-trained dogs, I should say! Pity to kill ’em! Well.” this half to himself, “ I‘ll have to choke ’em.” ‘ ‘ Wh-a -a-t !” “ Do the rest of you,” he placidly continued, “ walk over yonder and tempt one of the bi'utes sort of to one side for the length of his cable. I want’to slip up on him, t’other side, sort of sly~ like. . Wondering, they followed his instructions, se~ lecting the furious animal at the end door as the first object of their experiment. As he sprung along the side of the house at them to the full length of his great chain, open— mout ed and bellowing, he seemed fully as big as a lion, and hardly less formidable. Jerry had in the mean time crept up unno- ticed behind, and within two or three yards of the infuriated brute. Suddenly he sprung forward, encircling the bristling neck just back of the spiked collar with both of his immense hands. Instantly there was a tremendous, terrifying struggle between man and brute. Over and over they rolled in a death-grapple, but the superhuman clutch on the canine throat kept tightening slowly with the constrictive deadliness of the anaconda’s coil. I The fierce animal’s mouthings were hushed, but he still struggled gamely on. Suddenly there was a tremendous twist and wrench on the part of the hands and wrists, fol— lowed by a sharp snapping sound—the snap of a. broken neck—and the bloodhound was helpless on its side in the agouies of dissolution. Jerry calmly rose to his feet. “ Let’s try the next ’un,” said he, in a busi- ness—like way. “ I’ve sort 0’ got my hand in now.” The no less formidable dog at the side—door was similarly disposed of . , Hardly had this been effected before there was an attempt to raie the little window look- BY JACKSON KNOX, (“OLD HAWK,”) AUTHOR or “ THE FALCON DETECTIVE,” “ NIX- Er’s NIP,” “THE ROCKET DETECTIVE,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER XXXIX.—CONTINUED. They stole stealthily in among the brooiing shadows of the Holy Cross Cove, a quietly- sheltered little bay (where Indian Dickey was observed to solemn y wet his head repeatedly, as though in anticipaiion of the infernal arts to which he was to be subjected), and thence into the deep inlet. Here the rocky banks soon came so close to- gether that one of the cars had to be shipped and the other used over thestern with a sculling motion. » Still, satisfactory progress was continued. Five minutes were still wanting to nine when they came to a break in the rocky left bank, whence a distinct view of the Burnt ’l'ree, standin out, grim and spectral, in the bright moonlig ton its stony hilltop, while their own position was still buried in the deep shadow cast by the opposite bank. Thirty or forty men were grouped about the foot of the tree, apparently conversing with much earnestness together, their outlines being visible much less clearly. Presently they seemed to grow motionless, and it was evident that they were im ressed with the near approach of the Witching our. At this juncture Marion leaned over to the low bank, applied a lighted match to the end of a connecting fuse that she had led to that point in the afternoon, and then quietly resumed her seat. The fuse s rkled, fizzed along for a few inches, and t en burned its way under the in out from the covered gallery. ground. geri‘y motioned his companions out of sight in At this instant Indian Dickey suddenly jump- under the shadow of the main building, and ed to his feet. sought for himself a crouching attitude under the Window. J ust then old man Boomer thrust his head and shoulders out. He had on his head a red flannel nightcap and held in his hands an old-time, bell-muzzlcd blunderbuss that would easily have accommo— dated half a pound of powder and a pint or two of ounce-bullets as an ordinar charge. “ Any one around?” he‘ ca led out, sharply. “ We’re fixed fur thieves an’trespassers here, an’, by the great horn spoon, ef any cuss—-” Fearin treachery, Harold had him promptly by the throat, with a cocked revolver at his head. But the boy had onl been stirred by suppr- stitious excitement,wit out meditating any ad faith. He sunk down sullenly into the boat when re- leased. “Leave me alone,” he muttered. “ Do you think I’m afraid of mortal terrors? The inner voice has spoken to me. I shall be dead before midnight—dead by a bullet !” At this juncture he was interrupted bg' a ris- Thcre was something startling in the quiet- ing hand (Mr. Boomer subsequentl a mitted ness of his saying it. ' that he mistook it for the Hand of rovidence “Nonsense, Dickey!” said Marion. “ You are overwrought, to speak such absurdity.” “ It is true.” “ But how do you know i” “ The inner voice has spoken. I have felt the fore—pang of the bullet in my heart." Harold, who was less impressed, signed her to leave the youth to his broodings, and all eyes were steadfastly bent in the direction of the Burnt Tree. “Time’s up,” whispered the Hurricane De- tective, after a pause. “The train must have had a break smnewhere.” “ Wait.” said Marion, quietly. “But the time’s up. I can’t see my watch here in the shadow, but I’m positive it is past nine.” He had hardly got out the words before there wasa wondering yell from the assembled out— laws, and the entire trce seemed to start out against the sky in a weird fretwork of hissing, itself, it was so lar e and overpowering) which incontinently shut own u on him like a giant snuifers on a sputterin ta low-dip,and the next instant he was dragfi out, mute, helpless and wondering, the first uman captive in the hands of the adventurous quartette. A second followed, in the shape of the femi- nine Boomer, coming to the window to see what had become of her consort, and not only the mysterious west wing. but the entire Guernsey stronghold was done for. Jerry made a modest, abdica ting sort of bow to Harold, as if to intimate that his specialty was at an end, and the latter, so to speak, re- sumed command. Entrance having been effected, the two re- maining servants were secured, after which, as a preliminary step to the chief object of the ex— ploration, the doors were refastened on the in- side, to uard against a possible interruption from wit out. on the part of the enemy. good for him. dazzling fire. Then, with lights in abundance, they went in Willllllll'lllll hfi \ I. l search of the mysterious inmate of the west Wing. Marion held her breath and felt faint as they reached the door of the last room in which the prisoner could be heard moving about. Was she about to have her mother restored to er? Harold looked at her narrowly as the door was being forced. for the key could not be found, and the Boomers were obstinate in their refusal to tell where it had been hidden away. “ Be composed, darlmg,”he whispered. “ Per— haps a disappointment is in store for you—in- deed, most probably.” “ In what way ?” she demanded, faintly. “The prisoner ma be other than your mo- thgrh. I :gmehow fee thlat will prove so.” 6 in e a pamionate y 'ssentin ture. At this moment the door yielded. g ges Marion sprung into the room with an antici- pative cry. CHAPTER XLI. THE MYSTERIOUS INMATE. _ THEN she recoiled, faint, white and trem- bling. It was a venerable and much-suffering figure —a neatly-dressed old woman, with a pitifully inquiring and thankful look in her poor eyes— that came feeny tottering toward her with out— stretched hands, but Marion felt instinctively that it was not her mother. She staggered and would have fallen, had not Harold caught her. He placed her in a chair, and then induced the delivered captive to be seated, for she was also painfully excited, though giving no evidences of insanity. ' “ Courage, In low,” said the young man in a low voice. “ in on have not at found your mo- ther; but that this is not 3 e is no proof that she is either dead or untraceable.” The old man Boomer, who had been forced to accompany the searching—party, at this juncture burst into a mocking laugh. “ He, he, he!” he laughed, his withered car- cass fairly shaking with hisexulting merriment. “Ha, ha, ha i” “ What are on laughing at, you driveling old fool?” cried arold, angrily. “ Explain your- self, or—I sha’n’t answer for the consequences to you !” ‘ Ha, ha, ha! He, he, be! Why, at you and Miss Marion, to be sure! You’re tricked—self- tricked—to your misery. That ain’t the. Mrs. Bernard you expected to find here; and the fun of it is that this one is too silly to ever tell you who she is, if you should worry and question her till Doom’s Day. He, hc, he!” “ You shall then tell us for her,” said Harold, sternly. “ 0t I by the great horn-spoon! Not I, if you shoul . tear me to pieces with red-hot shoe- makers’ pincers!” And, in spite of threats, he proved as good as his word, though it is needless to say that he was not put to the excruciating torture he had so valiantly challenged. He was presently silenced and disposed of by Jerry tying him together in a sort of a knot, and throwing him under a bedstead. But now, or rather presently, a wonderful and gratifying thing happened. The shock of her unlocked—for deliverance actually restored the prisoner to reason. Or it should more precisely be stated that it aroused her out of the imbecility that had so long possessed her tosomething like a restoration of strength of mind and, above all. of memory. “ It al comes back to me now,” she said. “ I seem to have been dead and to have just come back to life. Ah, my eautiful child! so you are really the daughter of that unhappy lady whom I once looked after when she occupied my place in these strong-rooms ?” Marion was bewildered. “ You speak of my mother—of Mrs. Henry Bernard?" she asked. “ Certainly, my child: it all comes back now, wonderfully clear.” “ W'hat— what became of her?” faltcred the young girl. “ Ah! do not tell me that she died!” “ Indeed, I could not tell for it would not be true. esca .” “ - ad was never recaptured?” “ Never.” , Marion clasped her hands in silent gratitude. At least, there was a probability that her mo- ther was still alivchthat she might still be found. At last she thought of inquirin as to the identity of the forcwoman who ha taken her mother’s place within those miserable walls. “ But you have not told us whom you are yourself?’ she cried, with a little remorseful pang. “ Tell us now.” “ am old Guernsey’s wife,” answered the woman, with much simplicity. “ His wife." - “ Yes, my dear: that is, if he hasn‘t taken to himself another that I know nothing of. He is hard, mean and cruel enough for anything. But God will punish him.” “ He, your husband, has not done that,” said Harold, sharing in the questioning in a husky voice. “ So you are old Guernsey’s wife, and therefore Albert Guernsey’s mother?” “ Oh, yes! My mischievous little Albert! I hope you can tell me that he is still alive, you that, my child, She did not die: she sxr. “ Yes, I think he is alive still," admitted Har- old, hurrying over the answer. “ But, tell us more: Why did your husband imprison you in Mrs. Bernard’s place?” “ Because I helped her to escape. would forgive me.” Marion impulsively threw her arms around the poor woman‘s neck. “ Heaven bless you for that!” she sobbed, be- ginning to weep. Her warm tears gushed forth unrestrained: she pressed her lips again and again to the withered cheek. The old woman brightened u amazingly. “ Come now, I like this!" sai she. “ It seems like rain in a desert. It puts me in mind of my little Albert.” Harold turned away his head, While Jerry stepped into an adjoining room, where he in- dulged in a string of profanity, as the only dis- guise possible for his overpowering emotions. As the poor woman‘s faculties bl'l htencd un- der these softening influences, the w ole history of Marion’s mother’s disappearance, and of her connection with the man Red field, was elucidato ed, and the hours slipped away unnoticed while listening to her. It seemed, or rather proved, that Redfield was a second cousin of the banker‘s wife, Moreton having been a family name on both sides. This accounted for the apparently strange co- incidence of Marion havm selected it as a nom de guerrr, no less than t e “ major.” Mrs. Bernard and Redfield had been play- mates from childhood. The latter learned of a cousin of his, another Joel Redfield, of Bennin - ton, Vermont, in great pecuniary distress. n fact he was in danger of arrest for rascally em- bezzlement, though this was not known at the time. The cashier had always been fond of this cousin of his, and be communicated his solici- tude to Mrs. Bernard, whose husband chanced to be away from home on business. She advised her friend to go at once to his friend’s assistance —— indeed, in a moment of sym athetic impulse, ofl‘ered to accompany him on t e errand o mercy. “ It was a Saturday afternoon, after banking hours, that they too their hurried departure for Bennington, Mrs. Bernard leaving a note for her husband, explaining their destination and the object of their missuon; but, just when stepping on the train a communication from the Bennington Joel was handed to the cashier, con- fessing the former’s crime, and asking for the assistance to be brought to a certain house near Lake Falls, Where the writer was in hiding. Both the cashier and his com nion Were in- dignant at the deception which ad been prac- ticed. but they resolved to keep the. appointment for the purpose of learning fuller particulars, chiefly on account of the fugitive’s wife and in- He never teresting family. Directly after boai‘din the train, the cashier discovered that he had a r esum of the bank’s money in his possession, in afidition to mono of his own with which it had been his origi in- tention to relieve his cousin’s embarrassment. But he continued on his journey, resolving to communicate with the bank president (Marion’s father) the first thing on the Monday morning following. But that morning never dawned on earth for him. The fugitive’s hiding-place turned out to be old Guernsey’s house. He was there secret] with its proprietor and with William Bernar . In fact, they had long been associated in the commission of crime, t e Band being already an old organization. Here, on the next Sunday night, the cashier was murdered for his money in Mrs. Bernard’s presence. The shock drove her temporarily in- sane. Then the plot wasformed and carried out of keeping her in confinement, blackening her reputation in connection with the cashier‘s, ac- complishing the death of Marion‘s father, and so on, just as it has been explained in Marion’s own story in the earlier portion of this eventful narrative. ' By the time these strange and elucidating facts had been obtained from Mrs. Guernsey, a new day had dawned. Indeed, it was nearly broad day, and the lis- teners were suddenly aroused from their pre- occupation by a bowl of rage outside, which proved to be old Guernsey’s over the discovery of his dead canine guardians. Jerry was the first to step to the window of the covered gallery. ‘ “ Bernard is here, with a dozen men,"said he. “ If not exactly entrapped, we’re at least sur- rounded.” , “ Well," said Harold, likewise showing him- self at the window, “ I rather think we can hold the fort.” He called to Marion, who had by this time re- sumed her proper habiliments, and she also came to the window. Not only that, but Indian Dickey likewise took the opportunity of showing bimsel f. The combined panic and rage of both Bernard and old Guernsey passed all bounds. “ We’re ruined!” was the former’s first ex- clamation. “ Our secret is out! Mrs. Bernard is in their hands!” “ No, she ain’t,” protested Guernsey, savage- ly. “Mrs. Bernard ain‘t a prisoner of ours— hasn‘t been for years.” “ Wh‘a-a-t !” roared the other. His amazement sufficiently explained the sys- tematic deception he had been the victim of on the art of his chief associate in crime. “ he escaped long ago," Guernsey went on, doggedly. “ It’s my own wife who has since been a prisoner there in her place.” “ Scoundrel! And I have been paying you heavily for the wrong woman’s detention through all these years i“ “ Yes, yes! Cursc it all! you’d never have been any wiser but for the treachery of that in- fernal boy of ours, Indian Dickey.” Mr. Bernar ’s wrath was terrible. He seemed about to sprin at the old man’s throat, but at this 'unctnre t e “ major” interposed. “ ome, come, this will never do,” said he. “ Instead of quarreling amon ourselves.sbould- n’t we rather kill these detective scourdrels who have outwitted us all? Storm the house!” he shouted, turning to the Band. " I myself will lead on!” “ ot much, scoundrel, for you are spoken for. I want you!” Albert Guernsey’s were the words. He had at that instant sprung from the ad— joining copse and the Bennington Joel Redfield reeled under the first stroke of the avenging knife. ( To be continued~commmmd in No. 258.) Casual Mention. A SINGLE day of heavy fog makes the city of London pay £40,000 more for gas. BY a recent decision of the United States Cir- cuit Court of ‘Wisconsin, women in that State have the right to vote in all city elections. THE Great Eastern, which originally cost $3,500,000, and was sold a year ago for $125,000, has again been sold at auction in Liverpool for $100,000. A CITIZEN of Fremont. Neb., who got drunk and froze his feet so that they had to be ampu- tated, has just recovered $2,000 damages from the man who sold him the liquor. A GANG of Iowa counterfeitch have flooded Creston with east-iron dollars. They are heavi- ly plated with silver, stand the test of acid, are good weight, and are detected only by the ring. FOR many years one of the landmarksin Ogle— thorpe county, Ga, was the “ Old Treaty Oak,” under which the first settlers made the treaty with the Cherokee Indians for all the land in that part of the State. The tree reocntly died. TOKIO alone has 11 daily and ll weekly papers, only two of which are printed in the English language. Nagasaki has a Japanese daily and an English wcckly. Eighteen other Japanese towns support at least one daily paper each. They are all. large, handsome sheets. IN a Michigan lumber-camp the saw cut in two a large moccasin snake that was imbedded in the heart of a tree. There was no opening at either end of the log, and the lumbermcn can account for the snake’s presence only upon the hypothesis that it was taken up in the sap when very young. OLE PALSEN, who says that he has fished in the Columbia River for eight years, caught near Astoria. Oregon, recently, a fish twelve feet long, which he can’t claSsify. It wasn’t a stur— geon, and between the eyes was a straight horn, thirteen inches long, three inches in dia- meter at the base, and :almost as :sharp as a ne'r'mc. EASTERN sportsmen are advised to go to Whatcom, Washington Territory. On the isl- ands opposite deer are so numerous as to be a positive nuisance, destroying orchards and grain crops not protected by high picket or wire fences. Quail, too, are very plentiful, Orcns Island being fairly alive with the little fellows. NOT long ago five leading Indians of the C(Plll‘ d’Alene tribe left Spokane for their reser— ” vation with the latest improved thrashing— machine and a handsome buggy. Each had seventy acres of grain, which was rcady to be harvested, and they were well—dressed and drove well-fed ponies. It is said that most of the tribe are thus prosperous. . “ VAN,” the favorite shepherd dog of [the late Rev. Henry “'ard Beecher, lived for years at the Peekskill residence, the pet dog of the fam- ily. This beautiful animal, with his shaggy coat, liquid, laughing brown eyes and the sun— niest kind of a dog disposition, left the Beecher mansion soon after his master’s death to live with a kind-hearted neighboring family. Noth- ing will induce the dog to return to his former home since the master left it. GROWING in the canyons and on the hills north of San Bernardino, 011., is a tree which the Times of the place wants named. No one there knows what it is. It bears a fruit that resembles an. cherry, both in looks and size. It has a very pleasant taste, docs not grow in clus- ters as does the cherry, has a very large stone, which also resembles the cherry stone in shape. The tree grows like a bush usually, though some attain a hight of forty to fifty feet. The leaf resembles that of the live oak FROM all accounts of the “silver snake" of Honduras it most resembles quicksilver in its movement. One traveler tells of a specimen four inches long and about the size of fence wire which it was impossible to hold when taken in the bands. The statement is repeated. which is said to be made on good authority, that fowl often eat these snakes and shortlyafter can have the pleasure of doing so again. as in a few m0- ments one will wiggle through the alimentary canal and can perform the feat many times without tiring.