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“ Oh, yes! Through the window. Here;
climb into it.”

“ But you’ve got the rope on yet. I can’t.”

“ We’ll see. Bess, take aim at him If he
don’t climb you shoot.” '

“ Won’t i, though!” cried Bess, with a,reck-
less laugh.

“ N o, no! Oh, don’t shoot! I’ll climb. I’ll
do anything if you don’t shoot!”

The window was narrow, and Jacobs’s form
fit tightly intuit. When he was half through
Flash caught and fastened the other end of the
to e.

‘ Hang there, now. If your friends outside
want something to shoot at, you’ll make a good
target. If you try to get back, we’ll riddle you.”

A roar of fear and rage came from Jacobs,
whose legs hung inside the window, while the
rest of his body had disappeared.

While this was going on there had been
silence outside. The villains were in consulta-
tion.

Soon there came another thundering knock.

“ Open, or we’ll break it in.”

“ Break, and be hanged!” yelled back Flash.

“ We’ll shoot you through the window.”

“ If you do, you’ll hurt one of your own
scarecrows." '

This threat broughtayell of fear from Jacobs.
He tried to draw back, but Bess prodded him
with the muzzle of a rifle, and he hastily jerked
out again.

The voices ceased outside for a minute. Some
of the villains had evidently been investi-
gating.

Then the pounding ou the door was resumed,
and pistol-shots were heard, as if they were
seeking to fire through the stout timber.

“ That’s waste lead,” cried Flash. “ Be ready,
Bess. You are not afraid of a rifle?”

“ Not much; you ought to know that,” she re-
plied, bringing the piece to her shoulder.

“ If they come in, fire into the crowd. We
can bring down two, and then go for the guns
behind us.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” declared the girl,
bravely. “ I can fight, if I have to.”

Further words were interrupted by a crashing
sound at the door. Something had given way,
and the door flew open.

In rushed the villains, to be checked by the
vision of the brace of rifles that stared them in
the face.

“ Down with them! Fire!” yelled Griscom.

Crack! crack! went the spiteful revolvers,
but their sound was lost in the louder crash of
the rifles.

Two of the villains fell, Flash and Bess, who
were unhurt b the pistol-shots, dropped their
empty rifles an turned to seize twojofthose that
stood by the wall behind them.

But before they could use them Griscom rush-
ed forward, flinging his revolver as he did at the
head of the young champion.

Flash dodged it, but his foot slipped, and he
went down on one knee. Ere he could recover
or bring his rifle to an aim, Griscom was on
him.

Meanwhile Bess had fired again, but some-
what wildly. The next instant one of the ruf-
flans had caught her, and held her fast by the
arms, despite her vigorous effort to escape.

Griscom had brought Flash to the floor by his
spring. A severe struggle began, which was
auickly ended by two of the rufiians coming to

riscom’s aid. ’

In a minute more Flash was a bound captive
again. The released prisoners had not taken
proper advantage of their op rtunity, and they
were once more in the toils 0 their foes.

CHAPTER IX.
MOLLY MARTIN snows HER METTLE.

CRITICAL as was the position in which we
have just beheld our principal characters, we
must leave them awhile and take up another
thread of the story of that day’s doings.

We have told how the c ained old
shrew, Molly Martin, had put herself on the
track of the ruffians and their prisoner. In
spite of her abuse of Flash, she had a secret lik-
ing for him, and she tracked his captors as
faithfully and cautiously as any trained scout
could have done.

Two hours afterward the old shrew made her
agpearance at the cottgge of Dug-Out, her face
r , her hair dishevel , her whole aspect pre~
senting signs of haste and weariuess.

The old miner was seated at his house door,
taking an afternoon smoke, while his hands were

‘ busy on some household labor.

“ Hello, old woman!” he shouted. “ What’s
up? You look ’3 if somebody been hustlin’ you
through briers. 'Aiu’t been havin’ no set down
with nobody, hey f” ‘

“ You’re wanted,” she cried, breathlessly.

“ What fur? Ain’t nothin’ bad come ter Bess,
hey?” he demanded, taking the pipe from his
mouth.

“ I’m ’feared so. I know ther’ is to that scape—
grace 0’ yourn.”

“ What! Flash?” cried the old man, dropping
his work and springing to his feet. “ Blazes!
what is it, old ’oman? Flash! Good Lord save
us! why don’t you let it out?”

“ I will when you guv me an openin’,” she
shrewishly replied, dropping into the seat he had
vacated.

“ Oh, come, Molly Martin, don’t you see I’m
b’ilin’ over? Let it out short, old ’oman, and
I’ll uv you a dollar a word.”

“ t’s road-agents,” she said. “Dunno what

’ the’r’ up to, but they’ve snatched him, and—”

“ Road-agents! Hold on !”

He rushed into the house, and came out in an
instint, rifle in hand, his face red with excite-
men . -

“ Who are they? Where are they? Do you
know them?” he ejaculated, as he examined his
wea n. .

“ Vhy, you’re wuss nor a baby three months
old,” said Mrs. Martin, contemptuously. “ J ist
bridle yer tongue, and I’ll tell ye somethin’. If
you don’t shet up I’ll slide.”

“ Go ahead,” he replied, more humbly. “Go
ahead. I’m listenin‘.”

“ If you say another word I’m off. They was
road-agents. I see‘d ’em snatch him, and I fol-
lered ’em.”

“ You—” began Dug-Out, but checked himself
at the flash of the old woman’s eye.

“ I treed ’em, too. Run ’em down, and come
back here arter help.” -

;; But—” he began, and again checked him-
Be 0

“ Ther’ was a good half dozen of ’em. I want
you to rouse up some of the miners and fotch
’em here, and I’ll show ye the spot.”

“ Yes, and—”

“ If ye let one word more out o’ yer talk-trap
I’ll 0 home and finish my washin’, and ye kin
find em yer own way. You go fur help, and
I’ll rest, fur I’m clean uckered out.”

Dug-Out looked asi he would have liked to
ask some more questions, but the face of his vis-
itor was so full of spiteful rim that he dared not

 

, speak. Flinging the gun over his shoulder, he

hurried off toward the town, leaving her to the
rest she needed.

“ That’s jist like men,” she soliloquized.
“They allers want to do all the talkin’. VVo-
men don’t have no chance ter git a word in edge-
ways, ’cept they choke it in, like I jist did.”

W'ith a squeaking laugh of triumph, she
stretched herself on the bench, and quietly
awaited the coming of the rescue party.

An hour passed before the old miner reap-
peared. He had made good use of his time.

here followed him five or six stalwart miners,
all well-armed, and with faces full of resolu-
tion.

The mere hint of danger to Flash would have
roused the whole town to his rescue, for he was
a universal favorite. But at that time of day
most of the people were engaged, and he con-
tented himself with the few he found at
leisure.

By this time Mrs. Martin had recovered from
her fatigue. She was wiry and capable of
great exertion, and was quite ready again for
another long tramp.

Her temper had also become somewhat molli-
Bed, and she did not object now to tell the cir—

The story excited her listeners greatly. They
grew eager for the road, and were full of deep
threats of vengeance on the villainous gang.

“ I reckon that’s ’bout enough talk,” she final-
ly declared, in a decided tone. “Work’s the
next thin to he did, and ther’ ain’t no time to
lose. Fol er me, and I’ll-fotch ye to ther s ”

She set out at once, leaving them to ollow
as they pleased. She had said her sa , and not
another word could be got from her uring the
journey.

With lips shut like a steel—trap she led on at a
pace that kept them busy to follow her. The
old lady was showing her mettle ina way she
would hardly have got credit for. _

Soon they had disap ed in the distance,
and the cottage of ug-Out remained de-
serted.

But, leaving them to their journey, we must
return to the ca tives, whom we last saw pris-
oners in the ban 8 of Griscom and his gang.

Since we left them, a marked change has
come upon the situation. 1

Flash is again bound, the rope being placed
again over the beam, and one of the party
stands with the noose in his hand ready to throw
it over the head of the prisoner.

Jacobs, who has been set free, is grasping
Bess firmly by the wrist, with a look of mali-
cious triumph on his face. The tables have been
turned very much to his satisfaction.

Griscom stood contemplating his captive with
a look of cold-blooded determination.

“You thought you were playing a smart
dodge in destroying that paper,” he said, coldly.
“Do you know what that document was, and
what you have really done?”

“ I never was good at guessing riddles,” an-
swered Flash.

“ It was good for a fortune of two hundred
thousand dollars, which has been waiting for a
claimant ever since the death of your father and
mother. If I had gained that paper I would
not have cared what became of you. It would
have served my purpose, which is to handle that
fortune. Without the paper I cannot handle it
safely while you are living. So you have signed
your own death-warrant.”

“ That’s the game, is it?” rejoined Flash.
“I’m glad the cat’s out of the bag. That’s very
useful information.” .

“ It won’t be of much use to you. These good
fellows would have given you your life; but
since you’ve played them that trick, and put
bullets in two of them, you’ve cut off your last
hope. You’ve got to hang.”

“ that’ll you bet on that?” demanded Flash
easily. “ I’m readyto take odds you don’t hang
me.”

“There’s been enough of this nonsense,” re~
joined Griscom angrily.

He turned and spo e to the men, who had
been standing by With grim faces and merciless
looks.

Instantly the one with the noose dropped it
over Flash’s neck, drew it tight around his
throat, and adjusted the knot. _

At this moment there was an unlocked-for
diversion. Bess had been listening to the con—
versation with heaving breast and flashin eyes.
But she had remained silent and motion , as
if recognizing that words from her would be use-
less.

Now, with a sudden 'erk, she tore her wrist
from Jacob’s grasp, an flew to the rescue of
her lover. '

“You shall not hang him!” she cried. “He
has done you no harm! You shall not hang
him!

As she spoke she clasped ‘him close] in her
arm‘s, and strove to tear the noose rom his
use .

This she was prevented from doing by the
man who stood beside him.

“Oh! let him go!” she pleaded.
young and strong and handsome! And he is
the oul
Oh! let 'm go!”

“Take her off!” commanded Griscorn, un-
moved b her appeal.

Two 0 the men seized her auditors her loose
from the risoner.

She bro e away from them and threw herself
at Griscom’s feet.

pleaded. “ He is all I have in the world; the
only one I love in the world! Oh, for my sake
don’t hang him!”

“ You don’t decerve this girl if you can’t take
better 'care of her,” said Griscom, coldly, to
Jacobs.

At this hint Jacobs seized her and tore her
away, holding her too firmly to again escape,
though she struggled desperately in his rasp.

“ Don’t mind me, Bess, I ain’t worth t,” said
Flash. “ This hound has the whip band now,
but he‘s got Old Dug-Out to deal with yet.”

“ Oh, it’s too dreadful!” she writhed with
agony. “ It Will kill me! It will kill me 1”

“ Swing him off!” cried Griscom. “ Don’t
mind that baby of a girl. We’ll see what Old
Dug-Out will do.”

Two of the men seized the rope, and were on
the point of hauling the captive from the floor
when there came a new diversion.

A sound at the window drew all eyes in that
direction. What they saw there was a wrinkled,
weather-beaten face, full of fierce resolution;
and the protruding muzzle of a rifle.

“ You want ter see what Old Dug-Out can do.
Here’s what,” came the harsh voice, and simul-
taneously the rifle cracked with a sharp re-
port.

The men at the ro e hastily loosened their
gold, as the singing bu let whizzed between their

ands.

Ere the villains could recover from their as-
tonishment, Dug-Out was through the window
and on the floor. _

At the same moment the door of the room
flew open, and Mrs. Martin rushed in, followed
by a group of armed and stalwart men.

Only one thing met the old woman’s eyes.
There was her niece struggling in the grasp of
a man. With a yell of rage she flew at Jacobs
caught him by the hair, and began to pumm
him with a vim that she would hardly have been
thought capable of.

Meanwhile Dug-Out had rushed forward to
Flash, thrown the rope from his neck, and cut
the cords that bound his hands.

“ Good!” cried Flash. “ I offered to bet him
odds that he wouldn’t hang me. Where is he?
Hillo!”

He had just caught sight of Griscom climbing
through the window.

He flew to stop him, but was too late. The
villain had escaped. One of the miners sprung
there with his rifle, but could see nothing at
which to shoot. The fugitive had dodged under
cover. The miner sprung through the window
and rushed in ursuit.

Meanwhile ess had again clasped Flash in
her arms like a recovered treasure, and was
weeping tears of joy OVer him; Mrs. Martin was
still pummeling her helpless foe, and the road-
agents were crouching in dread before the rifles
o the miners. The tables had been decidedly
turned. .

(To be. continued—commenced i n No. 441.)

 

From Dan to Elsewhere.

 

The measures for long distances have varied
widely at different times and with different
nations, to say nothing of the comparisons used
in different sections of our own country. For
instance:

The Jews said “ from Dan to Beersheba.”
The Persians say “ from Medina to Mecca.”
The English say “ from Land’s End to John
O’Groat’s.”

The Yankee says “ from Maine to Texas. ”
The Southerner says “ from Florida to
Alaska.”

The Sucker and Hoosier say “from the Great
Lakes to the Gulf.”

The South American says “ from the Isthmus
to the Horn.” -
In Louisiana they say “ from New Orleans to
Pittsburg.”

In California the common expression is “ from

 

cumstances of the day’s adventure.

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.V’ _

‘-

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Altaville to Pilot Knob.”

“He isso '

one in the world that cares for me’!‘

“ Oh, don’t hang him! don’t hang him!” she,

THE AWAKENING.

BY EDWARD G. ALLANSON.

 

 

We are dreaming, ever dreaming,
In the twilight of life‘s mornmg~ ,
We can see the sunbeams breaking through the
dawn;
And we almost grasp the treasures,
That shall brighten all the future,
In the glory of the sunset further on.

All the hope that youth may cherish,
All the faith'that hope, may bring, ’
Guides us through the darkness of the day;
And our steps are always lighter.
And I know the world is brighter
If we smile and pass our trouble on the way.

And our hopes are ever clinging,

To the shadows of the future,
Where the romance of our

. last; '

And in after years we listen

For the music of the fountain
And the chimes of love that ring within the

past.

For the echoes of the spring time,
When all the birds are singing,
And there’s music in the laughter of the
stream.
And the zephyrs of the midnight,
Sloop to kiss the sleeping roses,
And the romance of the past seems like a
dream.

Oh! the midnight and the moonlight,
And the laughter of the fountain,
Is bringing back the lilies, pure as snow;
And I hear beyond the shadows,
The echoes of the music
That mingled with our romance long ago.

_y 0
life is played at

 

The Cheqlst’scrime,

Curses. that Game Home to Boost.

_———~—

BY A. P. MORRIS.

CHAPTER XX.
THADLIS BEGINS WORK.

IT will be remembered that Thadlis had con-
ceived the idea of a. Plan by which his employer
might recapture Ste la Bellerayon. and hear her
to Willowold, or to some other place of confine-
ment, since \Villowold was by this time totally
destroyed by fire.

His mind was unexpectedly disturbed, there-
fore, by the condition of WllSO' De'Mar‘tine, who,
in all probability, would have to be removed“
a conveyance to his home, where he could re«
ceive thorough medical attention, and nursing
by his wife.

About half an hour after seeing and hearing
what transpired in the entry, and while he was
seated at a bounteous repast which was served
up, a physician—who had been sent for by the
landlord—made his appearance.

A man who was short, stout, smooth-faced.
with little gray eyes, wearing black clothes, stiff
stock collar, and of a highly professional air.

“ COme in,” responded T adlic, as a business-
like rap sounded on the door.

The sleek individual entered, rubbing his
chubby hands together, smiling complacently.

“ Oh, you are the doctor,” added hadlis, ris-

in .

gGood-day»good-day, sir. Yes. At your
service, sir. A patient, I understand,” deposit-
ing a small sachel on a chair, and flancin
covertly toward the bed—then wiping -

 

s h
bald pate with a copious silk handkerchief of
flaming crimson.

“ Yes' a wounded man.” .
producing a case of surgical instru-
ments; “ a bullet-hole to probe, I suppose?”

:; No—a knife-cut, and a sore one. There he

“ ’Uml——yes. Ring for warm water. flow
Ion ago did it happen?”

“ last night,” re lied the stabler, jerking the

tassel ffi‘om the bel ~c0rd, as he gave it a vigor-
ous u . ' .
“ ‘Aheml I’ll look at him,” after some mo-
ments’ fumbling in the small valise out of which
he took sponge, linen, plaster, needle and thread,
then went to the bedside.

“ This wound has been neglected,” ursued the
medical worthy, with a dubious, yet ussy move-
ment—“neglected, or it wouldn’t be so bad.
’Um! Inflammation going on—considerable fe-
ver. Ahem!”

“ Do you want help there?” inquired Thadlis,
when the water was brought, and while the
stum y man was bathing the cut.

“ h? Oh, no; not a particle. No help.”
“Then I’ll leave you,” and with the blunt
speech Thadlis quitted the apartment—frown-
ing, and mumbling as he moved along the hall:
“ As I thought: when he needs health most, he
is sick. Yet he cannot help it. May the imps
seize Jules Willoughby and his knife! Now
then, this must be the room.” Pausing and
scanning a door before him.

He meant to find out whether it was indeed
Stella Bellerayou whose voice he had heard, and
rightly judged that he had gone the distance to
the point from where he had distinguished the
woréls of inquiry addressed recently to the ser—
vau .

“ If it is Stella Bellerayon, she is in this room.
How, in the fiend’s name, came she at the back
of the house. though, and so quickly? But let
us take a look,”bending low, and placing an eye
to the keyhole.

As he wowed the interior, he beheld his prey
seated at a table, partaking of the refreshments
that had been left for her when she should
awaken. ‘
Thadlis hurriedly glanced up and down the
entry. No one was in sight not a footfall broke
the. stillness of his surrounding.

Satisfied now, beyond a doubt, that it
was Stella Bellerayon, and no longer taskin
his brain with what was, to him, an eni a
change in her locality, be resolved upon a old
stroke.

Laying hold upon the knob, he wrenched 0 en
the door and strode in—banging the door 3 ut
behind him, and grinning exultantly.

At sight of him, Stella sprung to or feet. A
scream rose to her lips—to perish in a throe of
weakness, and she gas‘ped:

' f‘ Oh, Heaven !” star ng wildly, and with blood
icinc.

“I am after you, my beauty!” he growled,
and the riu was supplanted by a scowl and
leer. “ . ilence, there, or 1 shall choke you in a
minute—”

“ Keep off, you wretch l” as Thadlis strode to-
ward her.

“Oh, I’ll keep off. Ho! ho! Look now;none
of your squalls——it’s no use. You are can ht,
my charmer. Come,” and having advance to
within an arm’s length of her-as she stood
trembling, riveted as if by some horrible fas-
c: x x ution—he reached out one of his coarse hands
to grasp her.

' “ You ran away pretty cutely, m dear,” try~
ing to whine tantalizingly with is guttural
voice. “ but your gay lover wasn’t quite sharp
enough,” and here he chuckled as his thick,
horny fingers fell on her bare arm.

The touch. like a barb of steel, aroused her.

‘_‘ Back! Back!” she cried, snatching up a
knife from among the plates, and pulsing it aloft.
” Off With your vile hold! You shall not take
me! I am free! I will die before you shall
bury. me again! Stand back!" and as she
flourished the glistening steel in his face, he
ducked his head, retreating a step and blurting
an oath.

f‘ By Satan!~—you cat! You are at your knife
tricks again. Halt, there! I have yon-you
cannot escape me!” -

Stella h:le bounded to the window, as though
she intended to leap forth, reckless of the conse-

Again she flourished the knife, and again the
stabler recoiled.. £- '
“ Help! Help!” she screamed. “ Back, you

fiend l—touch me not; at your own peril, dare
to come higher l”

 

   

meeting one whom

which he was far from

“ Drop that knife!” he roared.
“ Hands off! Heaven pardon me! I will take
Ifiiy own life sooner than fall into your clutches.

-a! ’

Thadlis launched himself upon her, despite the
rapid, gleaming circles made by the knife. And
in that moment—overcome to madness by the
terror of her situation, perceiving that he was
about to overpower her, and preferring death
rather than captivity—she breathed a quick
word of prayer, and raised the edge of the blade
to her fair throat. -
Simultaneously the head, shoulders and body
of a man appeared above the window—sill, on the
outside, and an arm darted in to arrest the sui-
cidal stroke.

“ Don’t do that i” cried a voice; and Stella, as
she felt a set of iron fingers clasp her wrist, and
felt the hot breath of the rufiiau on her face,
sunk insensible to the floor.

“ Ho! it is Jules Willou hby l” shouted the
stabler, as the man starteg to climb into the
apartment. ‘

“ Yes, it is Jules lVilloughby.
for to settle with you, Thadlis.
it out.” .
“ By the devil! we shall see about that—ac-
cursed clerk of an apothecary l” roared Thadlis,
throwing himself, like a charging bull, onto
Jules Willoughby.

The assailed was taken at a disadvantage, be—
ing only partly inside the window, and under
the necessity of steadying himself with one
hand, while be resisted the attack with the
other.

Thadlis strained every muscle of his enormous
frame. He knew well that Jules Willoughby
would show him no mercy, if victorious; he felt
assured that he would kill him, without acruple.
in settlement for the murderous blow delivered
on the night of the abduction of Elise De Mar
tine, ten years ago, and for the part he (Thadlis)
had played in that affair.

N erved, theref e, by a fear for his life,
coupled to the na ural hate for the man who
was his deadly enemy, owing to past antago-
nisms, he fought like a giant devil, enraged,
grunting, grovsling, cursing his foe while the
two were wra ped in a fierce hug.

Presently, hadlis drew back his clinched fist.
He centered a mighty strength in the loosened
arm—then the fist fell, like a sledge, between the
eyes of his adversary.

Jules W illoughby uttered a despairing cry.
The blow partially stunned him; he swung help-
lessly outward, grasping at air, and went plung-
ing down among the bushes and vines beneath.
The cry might have been heard and induced
inquiry: but, just as the fist of the stabler dealt
the terrible stroke, the great tavern bell echoed,
like a clarion, through the halls and out on the
air, summoning the guests and boarders to din~
nor—it being then eleven o’clock, and the cus-
tomary hour for the noon meal, which lasted
from eleven till one.

Having disposed of the man who had inter-
fered with his plan to capture Stella Bellerayon,
Thadlis retired, panting, from the window, wip-
ing the perspiration from his bristling face. The
stru gle had been short but furious.

“ here!” he exclaimed, “ his neck is broken.
So much for his meddling. May the imps get
his soul! I am glad he is out of the way. But
he is not out of the way!”-—and here he returned
to the window and looked over the sill down at
#he motionless body. “ By Satan! I must hide

I have a mat
Now we’ll have

hat caruss, somewhere, or I may be hanged

for murder! I will attend to my em loyer’s
beauty first, and the apothecary’s cler after-
ward. Now, then, to make her fast.”

Pulling the quilt from the bed, he tore it into
strips, which he twisted tightly; and wi h these
strips he bound the arms and limbs 0 Stella
Bellerayon, who had not yet recovered from her
faint of horror. Near the hearth lay sev 1
pieces of wood intended for kindling, and on of
these he fashioned into a rude gag, with the aid
of a dinner-knife from the tray.

By the time he had completed the operation of
securing her. Stella opened her eyes.
“ Ho! awake again,” he granted. “You see
-—you beautiful cat—I have you safe in my claws
again. Who do you think t was that kept the
knife from your throat? Ho—ho! it was Jules
Willoughby. I had a fight with him, and
pitched him headlong from the window. Ha!
a! hal—but that reminds me of two things:
the body below needs attention; and this other
meddler—who looks like the apothecary’s clerk
—may return at any minute. I will have to
change your uarters, my charmer. See how
nicely I have xed you!-—-so that you will not
run 0'} again, nor squall for help, nor call me
by hard names. So far, so good. And no more
to fear from Jules Willoughby. Ha! ha! ha l”
Stella could not speak, because of the gag that
nearly choked her, neither could she move hand
or foot, so securely had be bound her. But her
lustrous eyes flashed defiance at him, even in her
utter helplessness--—the glance of an unconquer-
able spirit, more brave when most at the mercy
of a relentless brute. -
Thadlis was particularly gleeful over his sum-
mary disposition of Jules Willoughby. He
chuckled in his coarse, guttural style, ‘as he
took Stella in his brawny arms and bore her
away.
Bounding to a room opposite, he laid her on a
bed there, and withdrew, saying:
“ I’ll bid you good-by for a while ”--uoddiug
his shaggy head, while his thick lips parted over
his yellow teeth, in a taunting grin. “ Sorry to
leave you alone, charmer. I’ll be back soon,
and take you to lVillowbld—«a nice place, that
Willowold, you know. Ha! ha! ha !”
Thus transferring the unfortunate Stella Bel-
lerayou to another apartment, in order to con—
ceal her from those parties who were bearing
her to l‘lashvxlle until he could further arrange,
according to a plan already conceived, for her
removal from the tavern-«and having secured
her beyond all likelihood of escape, or even the
capabi ity of giving an alarm~-he descended to
the garden, to look after Jules Willou hby, who,
it would appear, must certainly be fiend after
that high and fearful fall.

CHAPTER XXI.

AND CROSIEB. HASTENS HIS SCHEME.
_ THE lovely woman was not long unconscious
1n the arms of Varlan Crosier, Sprinkling her
face with water from the pitcher which Worth
Wynder hurriedly grasped up from the center-
table, and bathing her temples with a wetted
handkerchief, they soon mused her from her
sudden faint.
. She opened her eyes dreamily, gazed upward
into the features that leaned so close, so eager to
hem; then drooping the long-lashed lids, she
breathed, in a tremor of bliss:
“ Jules! Dear Jules!"
“ Captain,” whispered the slim humanity, who
was _be ind the air, and therefore out of view,
“ this is Elise )e Martine. This is the mark
identical with that in the picture---the mole
captain. the mole.” ’
Wynder spoke like one who scarce believes
the evidence of his own senses. That it was im—
possible for Elise De Martino to be alive, he had
felt firmly convinced; but the render mav con-
ceive that this was, in reality, the missinghElise
who was then on her course to confront thosé
who had wronged her. accompanied bv the bus-
band of Mary Dyle, who had rescued .her from
Danger island and the wild mun, Peter Wilder.
And on her temple was the tiny purple mole
which, combined with her extraordinary and
peculiar beauty, identified her as the original of
the ivory-type picture so jealously cherished by
V arlan Crosier.
. His exclamation, though, was lost u n Cm-
sier, who, when he saw her revived, h neither
eyes nor ears for anything save her face and her
murmurings.
_ Asshe uttered the three words, she seemed to
sink into the languor of a delicious joy-~joy at

. she thou ht
quences; but Thadlis was so close upon her that after the long and torturousgsepzfizftiogegf $312,;
she was forced to turn. --nud it was as much as he could do to control

himself, to force an appearance of calmness

feeling: for he thought:

“ It is as I said: the effect of the drug is dis-

pelled. She is completely herself-~and she still

 

mm mv‘w' «- m

an manm‘

takes me for that Jules Willoughby.

Ha! ha!

  

ha! I swim-~I am burning! It is delicious!
There will be no difficulty} in persuadin her to
marry me. Excellent!” hen aloud: “ y dear

Elise! m

u Oh,
to ho e for—--”

“ es, it is sweet!”

“By a providence of God, We are united at
last.”

“ A miracle !” he exclaimed, with fervor,
glancing rapturously down into the lustrous
eyes of the deceived Elise. “ But tell me,” he
asked, “ how came you to leave the other
room?”

“ The other room?” she repeated, surprisedlg.

Wynder pulled his captain’s coa tail y

'erks. _ 
J “ Hang his lunacy! he’ll lose her, if he don’t
look out. He has found the true Elise, and
don’t know the difference. Blind as an owl at
midday, too! for he might see that she don’t
wear the same clothes: nor has he observed the
mole.”

And Crosier, inwardly:

“ Ho! she has forgotten the other room, for-
gotten that I brought her here, no doubt. I
need not remind her of it. I must not overlook
the fact that I am Jules Willoughby.” And he
said: " My dean Elise, I am so overjoyed at this
meeting that I hardly know what 1 am saying.
How beautiful you icok! Come-«let us sit down.
How he py we are now, eh?"

He is her to a sofa, while he trembled in his
exultation at finding her so easily deceived.
And it was not natural for Elise to be mistaken
in imagining him to be her lovor, for we will
state here that Varlan Crosier precisely resem-
bled Jules Willonghb as the latter had looked
ten years before—«wit , perhaps, the few marks
of age-and as Willoughby also appeared at the
date of our story--he having regained his natural
mien, and wearing whiskers ut the time of his
wooing Elise, though he was somewhat haggard
still, from the effect of his long imprisonment in
the house of the chemist, in Paris.

Crosier could scarce master his emotions, as
she twiued one arm round his neck, gazing at
him so confidingiy.

Not until they wore seated did she notice
“’orth VVynder; and she put a similar inquiry
to that of Stella Bellerayon in the prison vault.

“ Who is that, dear Jules?”

“ He is a faithful fellow, my dear Elise, who
was with me in the Crimea War—”

“ The Crimea War? I have not heard of it—
yet stay; the generous man who rescued me
has, I think, told me of some terrible scenes in
Europe recently.”

“ Yes, I mentioned it before—that is, I
dreamed I had found you and told on all
about it,” be corrected, quickly, thinking she
must refer to his former introduczlion of Wyn-
der, in the cellars, which she indistinctly re-
membered, and in pursuance of his resolve not
to allude to the scene of the night before, at
lVillowold. And he added: “ A trusty rascal—
frieud, I mean, my dear Elise, who will do us
any service. His name is W'orth Wynder.”

“ As a friend of J nice, I am glad to know you,
Mr. Wynder,” and Elise held out her hand to
Worth, who glided forward like an eel, to clasp
it and stoop over it respectfully.

“ You were in the Crimea War, which you

beautiful queen !”

ules! this is a sweetness I had not dared

withdrew to a window.

“ Yes—throu h a season of carnage and
terrors. What ad I to live for, since I was
.robbed of my Elise, the only thing I loved in the
world? You disappeared so mysteriously on the
ver night we were to run away and be mar-
rier! First, I thought you had deserted me;
but I could not believe that. I searched for ydu,
and, in my despair, determined to seek a sol-
dier’s grave. I went into the Crimea; but I

 

abomina ble
may suffer

a minister; we Will

could not kill myself---no, I could not die.”

“And I, dear Jules, have suffered more than

on :1 credit. What gn unhapp lot s

can , ine, since the night of my abr action!

(flinging tighter, to his neck, she sunk her head
to his breast and half smothered a sob.

“’Shlood!" thought the vagabond, as he felt
the soft embrace of her arms, and can ht the
sound of the sub. “ I am being fast tic led to
death! I shall bark and yelp presently! How
affectionate she is! What a houri for a wife!
And she thinks she was abducted. She did not
know she was at W illowold all the time.”

Contemplating the regal head on his breast,
he slyly wound an arm round her waist giving
nglidel' a wink, and rolling his tongue into his
C so .

“ Where is the ring you promised to Wear for—
ever for me, J ules?" she asked, suddenly, look-
ing l'i‘p.

‘5 he ring! Oh, the infernal ring I tore from
the finger of the man Alick Casein had in the
cell. - She wants it now-ma while a 0 she detect—
ed it.” Then to her: “ It is safe, 39. 6, my adored
Elise,” producing the ring and slipping it on his
finger.

“ Ah! I feared you had lost it. Let me tell
you now, dear Jules, what I have endured in
these fearful years-"without seein you, yet
knowing that you still loved me i you were
alive; for you swore, by that ring, that no one
should share your affection for me.”

“ I have worshi d you to distraction for ten
years!” he assure her, vehementl . “ But on
need not tell me about yourself ; I know air—I
knew everything, except where to find you, and
that is why I sou ht to destroy myself.”

V “ How did you nd out, J ules?”

“ Through Alick Casein, who is now dead.”

“ Ah ! your employer. He, too, op sed
our marriage, and gave me over to eter
lVilder.”

“ Peter Wilder! “’ho the do s is Peter

Wilder?” exclaimed Crosier, mental y, who had
already half forgotten the story of the bearded
man, because 0 his firm conviction that the
matter was a mere tangled fabrication; and he
had entirely abandoned his resolution to seek
out the woman the bearded man had brought to
the taVeru, and make her confess herself an ad—
venturess—de voting himself absorbedly,uow, to
Elise, whom he believed to be the same rson
he had liberated from the power of Wi so De
Martine and Thadlis.
‘f Oh, yes!” he argued, in his brain, “ ‘ Peter
Wilder ’ is some creation of her fancy, when dis-
turbed by the drug those villains were in the
habit of giving her. Yes, I see,” saying aloud;
“ I am familiar with your sufferings. I wonder
that you lived through it. Oh, how my heart
bleeds when I think of it,” and again to himself:
“ ’Sblood! I am getting along flnely. Glorious.
She is mine.”
“ Dear Jules, we shall soon confront the evil-
doers. I am now on my way to wreak just ven—
geance. They have no claim to mercy after the
perpetration of such an atrocious crime. The
tedious years of my absolute misery have made
me stern of pu . use. My destination is Willow-
old. If you at! I love me, as when we roamed
the grOVe about the mansion, we will yet he
very, very hep )y.”

“ My beaut ul Elise, l have worshiped you
faithfully. Yes—«we will be happy.” And in
his mind: “ Ho! this is a new idea. Having ust
awakened to‘ her proper senses, she imagines
that she is on her way to Willowold to avenge
her wrongs. ’Sblood! I must prevent it-~we
must fly from this outlandish Willowold.”
and then, as he bethought him of the words
he had heard Jules Willoughb utter, when he
discovered the latter reading the stolen letters
in the kitchen:

“Dear Elise! beautiful Elise!
wish shall be done. But I b
are reunited and happy;
between us; why should
miss? Let them live in
umph.

anything you
eg you to think: we
nobody can now come
we care for our ene-
ignorance of cur tri-
I. too, have been wronged; but I am

ready to bury all recollection of it. I care noth-

ing for the past-"only the present and our hea-
venly future, our heavenly future, I say. I have
found you, and I am Contented. Let us go
away from Willowold and those who live there.
Hey, Elise? We can enjoy a peaceful home
somewhere; these damnable —~. I mean these
people who so cruelly separated us

severely enough with remorse.
\Vhat say you, my ueen Elise? I can procure

 

married at once; and if

 
 

speak of, dear Jules?” she queried, as Wynder‘

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