-» smile, whiie he was sure that the same could not be said _ of many of her admirers; ‘‘but how does Mr. Carpen- ~ - gome, ¢ bom Stances.” “Oh, no,” replied, Walter, with a smile, ‘I am too young in the business to have such a responsibility upon my shoulders. 1 merely assisted Mr. Conant about some of the minor details and with the specifications.” “I am very impatient to see them, and IJ shall make Robert show them to me the first thing to-morrow. Per- haps,’ she added, with a coquettish little toss of her bright head, ‘‘I may not be exactly suited with the ar- rangement of my rooms. Do you suppose the great architect could be prevailed upon to make any changes at my suggestion ?” “T am sure he would be very glad to please you, if he could do so,” Walter responded, his whole face aglow with admiration, for she was so pretty, so sweet, and = natural in her manner that it was a delight to watch er. “Ahem! Miss Ruby, ] am afraid that we shall lose our first quadrille if we linger,” Edmund Carpenter here interposed, He was raging inwardly that Walter should presume to stand there so composedly and converse with the young girl, and he abruptly stepped between them, while he cast a dark look of jealous anger at the young man, Ruby lifted a pair of wondering eves to her escort at this rudeness, and she saw at once that he disliked her hew acquaintance. But she wa inclined to resent this surly treatment of a gentleman i., her brother’s bouse. ‘T suppose it is time for us to go,” she said, a trifle coldly, and drawing her slight figure more erect; then she added, more cordially than she had yet spoken: “Good-night, Mr. Richardson, 1 hope I shall meet you again, soon, then I will tell you how | like the plans,” and with a triendly smile and nod, she took Mr. Car- penter’s proffered arm and passed out to the carriage which stood waiting for them, while our young architect went back to his humble room in Mr. Wayland’s modest house, taking with him a gleam of sunshine that brightened many a subsequent day, - ™ CHAPTER VI A NEW REVELATION. ? Edmund Varpenter had met Ruby Gordon at a bril- liant reception given by a mutual friend during the pre- “ey Winter. Jt was the young girl's first season in society, and she was as fresh, beautiful, and charming as it was possible for a debutante to be. Of course she at once attracted a great deal of atten- tion. She was not one of your regulation society belles, whose one ambition has always been to “come out” at a certain time, and whose education has been conducted solely with reference to that object. She was natural, sweet, and piquant, with a mind of her own, and plenty of spirit to speak out her honest opinions, and to show her approval or disapproval of the modes and customs of oe and the many admirers who crowded around er. Edmund Carpenter had been fascinated from the first moment of their meeting. He had freqnented fashionable circles for a number of years, and showered attentions upon many belles with- out ever having been captured by one; but he thought he had never seen any oneso lovely as Ruby Gordon. She was not yet eighteen, and was like a sweet, wild rose ; her spirits were light as air, every movement was full of unstudied grace, and she was quick and keen as a brier in conversation and repartee. Besides all this, it was a well-known fact that she was quite an heiress, independently of being the sister of the wealthy Robert Gordon, Esq., who occupied an enviable position in Philadelphia. Young Carpenter was what might be called a hand- some man. He possessed a fine form—tall, strong, and symmetrical—a well-shaped head, surmounted by rich, dark hair, regular features, and fine, intelligent black eyes. He was well educated, polished and affable in manner, and possessing large wealth, was deemed a “great catch” in society. But no one, as yet, seemed to possess power to secure more than friendly attention from him; for. notwithstanding the fact that he was twenty-six years of age, he had never been engaged, and no one had thought him likely to be, until Ruby Gordon appeared upon the scene. He was attentive to all the belles alike—rode, danced, flirted with and sent Howers to the many but no one in particular. Butfrom the moment of Ruby Gordon’s entrance into society, a change seemed tocome over him. He hovered about her continually; he had no eyes orears for any one else, and devoted himself to her exclusively, while he appeared to regard the attentions of others as an in- fringement upon his rights. . People began to talk about it—to say that Edmund Carpenter, the “‘male coquette and flirt,” had been cap- tured at last, and soit seemed. Robert Gordon was not displeased with this state of __ things; indeed, he viewed them with complacency. _ He had Jong known and respected Ralph Carpenter, as 2 oo elise had done, and though he had not met I y Ninos iv, he believed he must be a ~ natural to her, rather than that she had been actuated by any special regard for principle. She was so invariably bright and happy, so care-free, that he had never imagined her pretty head could ever be seriously troubled by the more serious questions of duty and obligation. It was like a solemn revelation to him, and made him feelas if he had been guiltily neglectful not to have sought to know before more of her inner life. He feared that he had treated her too much as a child, a. pet, a plaything, and thus starved her, when he should have fed her with strong meat suitable for a more fully de- veloped nature, But it was a new bond between them, and drew them nearer than ever to each other. He reached out his hand, and laid it gently. on her ‘shoulder. Z “It is well to set your standard high, dear,” he said, “but we must not forget that everybody is human, and we have need to exercise toward others that charity which ‘covereth a multitude of sins.’ I will confess that I have been pleased with Mr. Carpenter’s preference for you, for I have considered him a worthy young man; and if—mind, my pet,I would rot influence you a feather’s weight—if he should find favor in your eyes, it would give me great satisfaction. He is wealthy. He owns a beautiful estate not far from the city; and it would be a great comfort to me to have you so pleasant- ly settled, while thus, Ruby, I could always have you near me.” “Robert!” cried the young girl, with a startled, crim- son face, ‘‘1 have never thought of anything like that, Iam not yet eighteen years old, and—and. x “I know, dear, that. you are very young, and under any other circumstances I would not have spoken so plainly. But I have eyes. I can see that Mr. Carpenter will not be content to remain long in a state of single blessedness, if he can gain the prize that he covets, and so, Ruby, I have sald this that you may not be taken unawares. There was another and stronger reason why Robert Gordon had tried to sound his sister’s feelings. From time to time he had warnings that all was not as well with him as he could wish, or as it should be with a man of his years. Severe pains in his left side, certain sensations as if his heart suddenly turned over and then ceased its ac- tion entirely, made him fear that he might not remain long in the world to care tor his beautiful, orphaned sis- ter, and he experienced a strong desire to have her happily settled in life before any ill should overtake him and thus leave her without a protector and at the mercy of unprincipled fortune-hunters. He had been correct in his suspicions, Edmund Car- penter had resolved to win lovely Ruby Gordon for his wife, if possible. She was not only beautiful in form and feature, charm- ing in manner, winning every heart by her sweetness, piquancy, and grace, but nobility itself in character and principle. He had been astonished, as his acquaintance with her progressed, at the depth of thought which she manifested, the intellectual ability that she displayed and the lofty sentiments which pervaded her conver- sation and shone forth in all her deeds and bearing. He had never met any one like he,r and. he had set his whole heart upon making her his wife andthe mistress of his elegant home. ‘ : With this object-in view, it is not strange that he sought to mask the baser elements of his own nature, carefully governing his language and deportment, when in her presence, and exerting every art and fascination of which he was master to achieve his cherished pur- pose. (TO BE CONTINUED.) —____ > @<—____—_ (THIS STORY WILL NOT BE PUBLISHED IN BOOK-FORM.} A Detee Ve Dy (hance: A CHASE ROUND THE WORLD. By MARIPOSA WEIR, Author of “The Wickedest Man in the Mines,” etc. (‘A DETECTIVE BY CHANCE” was commenced in No.7. Back oumbers can be obtained of all News Agents. ] CHAPTER XL. And he reeled backwar ; tonishment and dismay; while, almost in the Sanvér moment, a dark, thickset man of some fifty years— though he appeared more than ten years younger— stepped across the low window-sill into the room. The intruder’s shaggy. beetling brows, and the malignant, ferret-like eyes. which scintillated like sparks of greenish colored flame glistening far back in the bosom of some dismal cavern, were indeed sufficiently repulsive, without the added ugliness ‘which his square, massive lower jaw and coarse mouth, with its severe, angular lines, gave to a ye y O ie ‘ another blow. was safer to make their attack where the gigantic gray- beard swung his ponderous weapon, or where flashed the cimeters of that terrible swordsman and his un- daunted comrade. ; Mustapha himself seemed disconcerted by the unex- pected turn the affair had taken. But he felt the necessity of doing something\to encourage his hesitat- ing band. \ “There are but three‘of them,” he said, in a low tone; “shall they keep twenty of us at bay? Upon them, all together! Fifty piastres to him who cuts down the first man !” Ray of t Thus stimulated, the Nubians advanced to the attack, whirling their cimeters aroand. their heads, and en- veloping the devoted three ba circle of flashing steel. But still they seemed reluctant to come to close quar- ters with theirredoubtable antagonists, and fought with caution. For several culatfites blade clashed against blade ; blows were struck anil parried, but no wounds inflicted. The assailants moyed round and round the little phalanx, seeking in vaiii for an opening. Stand- ing shoulder to shoulder, facing every way; cool, skill- ie wary, and alert, the three'still held their enemies at ay. ¢ benef At length one long-armed.)sinewy fgllow, naked to theewaist, ventured within reach,cf D’Kstree’s weapon, when the latter, advancing apace: with a sudden and rapid movement, thrust him through the ody, using his cimeter as a rapier, and spraig back to his place, as the man fell mortally wounded. Mustapha gnashed his teeth with rage, and swingin his long cimeter round dis’ head, advanced 'towar Juan, as if determined ai mething ae Yet it a ee te ee ee his tury did not deprive him of caution. h his eyes fixed upon those of his antagonist, watching his slight- est movenient, he approached until just within the reach of his unwieldy battering-ram, and brandishing his blade endeavored to provoke an attack, holding him- Self ready to spring back in fime to avoid the stroke, and then to rush in and cut down the Californian before he could arrest the sweep of his ponderous weapon tor accustomed to every species of combat practiced by civilized or savage men to falla victim to so simple a stratagem. ; ~ “No, you don’t !” he muttered, shaking his head, with a scornful laugh of derision, _**What do you take me for, ° unts and erokydiles! why you foolish nigger ? at. ses yer SO can’t yer come a litt V bashiul? Whatiees irth ? That ain’t bizness, that “aint, a standin’ thar grinnin’ like a laftin’ hyeny and shakin" your cheese knife. What are yer afeard on? You ougater be ashamed of yerself. You're the biggest nigger the lot, and you oughter set the rest of the gang a bétter example, Why don’t yer walk right up ?” : Mustapha’s features worked strangely, as the Califor- nian uttered these jibes of deiiance. “Look out for him, Juan}” said Irke, in a voice of warning. “If he once gets'past the end of your club he'll have you ata @ Vantage.” ; “Let him come on!” ansWw¢red Juan, “I'll try to take keer of him when I git him af close quarters. But he’s too bashful. He’s the most modestest nigger I ever sot eyes on.” {v The words were non es of his mouth, when But Juan was too old a ie and had been too long > = the dragoman, who, notwithstanding his enormous bulk,-was as nimble as a wthonkey, made a. prodigious bound toward Juan. The latter had been expecting this attack, and was not taken by surprise, but still the Nubian, by his extraomMinary agility. had got so far within the range of Juah’s clumsy weapon, that when caught by its sweep, he was not struck by its end, and consequently the Blow was not attended by serious consequences. He Was, nevertheless, borne to the ground, and Juan, dr the upturned root, drew his knife and darted the prostrate drago- man, with hate and vengeafce in his eye, eager to in- flict upon him the just penalty for his treachery. ° But the fated hour of ‘‘Musfapha the Swift” had not yet ome. He Saw the eager app op ch of the fierce avenger, and without attempting to tisé to his: feet, rolled over and over like a teetotum,.wif} wonderful rapidity, until he had spun himself into site, st of his band, while the baffled and astonishet returned to his post. And now there was anothpr pause on the part of the assailants. Those who were eed urged those in front to advance; but the latter ‘siank from encountering those terrible adversaries who faced them so unflinch- ingly, and who seemed to pdssess nore than mortal skill and prowess. t aN Mustapha, breathless with exertion, and all bedrag- gled with dirt, regained hisfeet, and saw at a glance that his band, notwithstanding their superiority in numbers, were thoroughly disheartened. For an instant he stood apparently irresolute, in a listening attitude. Then heseemed to have arrived at some sudden determination. “Come !'F he cried; ‘‘it is time to end this at any risk!” And drAwing a revolver trom his breast, he leveled it full at Jyan, and advanced with deliberation, as it about te fire. / ; ° A TERRIBLE, BUT UNEQUAL COMBAT. La ty compan hd riod been surrounded. Gormlay, knowing him to be a mere adventurer, was bad enough. but to continue the acquaintance since he has become a rebel against his soverei and atraitorto his ecountry—a proclaimed o with a price upon his hexd—is simp] and in conflict alike with deceu: the land.” He ceased foras , and witha tre ‘nding down, he grasped “~UnCH Cc, none ‘in the that influenced him, for Ruby weuld have these if se never married at all; but he had been pleased with - the young man, and although he knew there was con- siderable difference in their ages, yet he argued that he was all the better calculated to take care of her from that very fact. He had always said he would never dictate to her in a matter so important to her interests; she should be free to choose for herself—to decide regarding her own happiness, and he would have sanctioned her choice of any worthy and honorable man, without regard to pos- Sessions or station. Once or twice he attempted to sound Ruby regarding her sentiments toward her suitor. “It seems to me that young Carpenter is getting . Ca ‘ ¥ ‘: was not Edmund Carpenter’s wealth and position quite friendly in this neighborhood, Ruby,” he remarked, }: with significant emphasis, one evening after the gentle- man had made a protracted call.* “Oh, he only dropped in to bring mea book that we were talking about the other day,” Ruby responded, but with a little extra color in her cheeks. “Isn't it a trifle strange, petite, that you should prefer his society to that of others nearer your own age ?” asked Mr. Gordon, bending a searching glance upon the fair face that was so dear to him. “J jike people who talk sensibly to me, Robert,” she returned, with an expressive shrug of her pretty shoul- ders, “Sensibly ?” he echoed, in surprise. “Yes, most of the young men whom I meet in society talk such nonsense.” “Such as what, for instance ?” “Oh, about my hair, my eyes, my ‘pretty feet,’ and ‘lovely dancing,’ comparing them with somebody else’s imperfections, and allmanner of absurd chatter. I de- Spise flattery and compliments;” “Oh, Ruby! when you alwayscome to me to be told how pretty you look, before you go anywhere, and seem to like it, too!” retorted her brother, roguishly. “Well, of course,” She answered, laughing and blush- ing, ‘‘you love me, and you always mean what you say.” “True,” replied Mr. Robert Gordon, with an amused ter’s conversation differ ?” “He talks to meas if he thought I possessed some brains ; aSif “he imaginedI could think of something besides dress, and dancing, and gayety. Heis fond of music; so am {. Hecan tell you the name and some- thing of the history of almost any eminent composer. He knows a good deal about arts and artists. Then it is really quite like a review lesson to hear him talk upon history, both modern and ancient, while the standard authors are like household names to him.” “You enjoy his society then ?” *Y-es; I enjoy talking with him. It isa relief after listening to the small talk of some of the others.” This was rather doubtful praise, Mr. Gordon thought; not at all whafa young girl should bestow upon the man whom spe was learning to love. But he was not satisfied to Qfop the subject just yet. < nter stands well, Ruby. He is rich, hand- d well educated, and I suspect that you are very much favored by his attentions. I feel rather proud of his preference for you.” Ruby blushed at this, but looked grave. Yes, he is well educated and rather good-looking, and he is\pleasant company,” she said, musingly ; ‘but % “Well, but what ?” questioned her brother, watching her expregsion closely. “T am not quite sure that he is a very good man,” was the rather startling reply. «What /'do you mean bythat, petite? I have never heard a word against Mr. Carpenter's character.” “Of course not; neither havel. But, somehow, when he gets to talking upon some subjects he expresses him- self in a way that I do not like. He is hard and cynical. He is not sympathetic and charitable, as I think every good man should be, and he is sometimes overbearing and-—and not just kind toward people in humble circum- “You must not be too critical, Ruby.” ar “No, Lhope I am not, Robert,” replied the young girl, ‘fting her earnest face to her brother, ‘‘but I believe I have high ideals. I could never really like or respect any one who was not noble and good at heart. I might enjoy @ man’s society because of his intellectual ability ; but I could not admit such a one to my confidence and friendship, if he were not possessed of honor, integrity, and kindness of heart.” “And do you consider that Mr. Carpenter is devoid of those attributes ?” “T shouid not like to say just that, Robert, and yet he Says and does a good many things that jar upon me.” Robert Gordon was surprised. His sister was show- ing him a new phase of character to-day. He had no idea that she possessed so much penetration ; that she was in the habit of thinking and reasoning so pro- foundly, or of weighing the character and motives of people so nicely. He knew that she was good and kind and gracious to- ward every one; but he had always believed that it was . ndous effort tore it up by thevroots, heavy with the ra earth massed around them./ Then seizing it by the fop with both hands, hej aru the ponderous weapef round him with such rapidify and force that the assailants who were rushing upon jim shrank back to keep clear of its tremendous sweep. One of them, however, was a second too late; the earth-bound root caught him on the shoulder, and over- threw him as if he had been smitten by a battering- ram. With a movement rapid as that of an eagle pouncing upon its prey, Irke darted to the spot, seized the fallen man by the wrist, wrenched his cimeter from his grasp, and stepping back a pace, clove him to the chin with a terrible downright stroke as he strove to regain his feet. As the'man fell a corpse at his feet, Irke turned, just in time to see two stalwart Nubians with their cime- ters uplifted over D’Estree’s head in the act to strike. There was this difference between Irke and his friend. Both were brave, both skilled with their weapons; but D’Estree, without a weapon, was helpless; and when he To associate with Robert — aN sprang to a young | found himself unarmed, surrounded by a throng of fierce assailants, resistance seemed vain, and he prepared to | die with fortitude. He could not fight; he would not } fiy; and folding his arms, he calmly taced his enemies, | with unflinching eyes, and the dignity of a courageous | spirit that will neither shrink nor quail in the presence of the inevitable. Irke, on the other hand, conscious of matchless phys- ical strength and activity, and trained from his earliest boyhood in all manly exercises, strong of hand, quick of eye, and abounding in resources for every emergency, was of a disposition which no danger, however sud- den, could disturb. From his very nature he could not yield to despair while the breath of life remained in his body. Overmatched as they were, his heart had not for | a moment failed him. He perceived at a glance that the Nubians had no fire-arms, and he understood, with the quickness of a flash of lightning, that they would not have ventured upon an attack so near a traveled highway, with weapons the noise of which would betray the bloody deed which they had undertaken. It was necessary that their work of assassination should be done ‘quickly and silently.” So rapid were his movements that, even as he turned, a blow from his cimeter struck the weapon of one of D’Estree’s assailants from his hand, throwing it to the distance of nearly twenty feet. Then the point of his blade sank, and rose again with a motion too swift for the eye to follow—rose just in time to intercept the | weapon of the second assailant as it was descending, with the full force of a sinewy arm, upon D’Estree’s head. The blades clashed as they met with the loud clang of a hammer upon an anvil. Then Irke’s turned, and as the Nubian’s was lifted for another blow, he was almost cleft in twain at the waist by a whirling back- stroke, to which his terrible antagonist imparted not only the whole strength of his iron wrist and arm, but also the weight of his body, swinging himself more than half round. with the impetus and momentum of the mighty effort. As the man who had been disarmed recoiled in terror to regain his weapon, D’Estree snatched up the cimeter of the dying wretch who lay at his feet almost dis- severed by that prodigious back-stroke, and the two friends sprang to the spot where Juan stood like a Titan, holding his foes at bay with the ponderous implement of ee that he had torn from the bosom of the earth. “Back to back !” cried Irke, in a voice that rang with encouragement and defiance—“Back to back, com- rades, facing the assassins on every side, so that they cannot stab us from behind. We will show them, in spite of the odds, that we will not die like sheep.” All this had passed with inconceivable rapidity. Irke’s watch had not ticked twenty seconds since the treacher- ous dragoman gave the signal for the attack by drop- ping the stone into the pool; yet already two of the assailants lay dead or dying beside it, and the destined victims stood unharmed. in an attitude of formidable resistance, They occupied the center of the only spot near the spring that was free from rocks and trees—a small cir- cular space, less than twenty-five feet in diameter. There, Shoulder to shoulder, in a little triangle, just far enough apart to allow their weapons free play without interfering with one another, they stood facing the foes that encircled them, and awaiting their attack with no sign of trepidation though so fearfully outnumbered. The Nubians had observed with amazement, not un- mingled with awe, the prodigious exertion of strength by which Juan had uprooted the date-tree, and the ap- parent ease with which he handled it, as if it were a willow wand. And they had been equally impressed by the marvelous force and skill with which Irke wielded his cimeter. They had expected to surprise their vic- tims and cut them down without resistance, but they were now called upon to face quite a different pro- gramme. No wonder that they hesitated in doubt whether it .” said the latter; »withed bitter laugh. “If that’s. ne, it’s all up with t&.. we might as well pass checks. Clubs and eutlasses air no match for six- 8, and the smartest fencer that ever slung’a iron can’t ward off }oullet.” oo d before now they fatality should are at Sh a intervene——” . ? = * Da Ponte raised his hand wih a.warning gesture and glanced toward the page, wh looked pale as a specter, and seemed strangely agitate: Giorno arrested himself suddenly. “You may go, Stefano,” he said, ter, boy? You look ih” “Indeed, sir,” returned the page, in a feeble and broken voice, ‘‘I am farfrom well, I have always, from “What is the mat- ao .e- © + —______ 4 QUEER CUSTOMS. The modes of salutation among savages are very cu- rious. Kissing, which seems so natural to civilized people, is quite unknown to Australians, New Zeal- anders, Papuans,’Esquimaux and other races. The Poly- nesians and Malays sit down when speaking toa supe- | rior ; in South Africa,the natives turn their backs in simi- S; while some tribes in the Neilgherry “Zook cup and brush your and a an “SPECS Boap Pl be your briae Sea “LT will; but if,” cried Dan, 4_ “You razor hope you will dispel, There'll beara death, you'll gee; And if there’s scrape on my déor-bell, My chair will empty be.” “JT do not shampoor fellow,” said Miss Barbara, perplexed ; Oil though when your first wife is dead, You'll quickly cry for ‘Next !” Whispering Stones. Among the first curiosities shown at the Washington Capitol are the whispering stones in the Statuary Hall, my childhood, been accustomed to abundant exercise and fresh air, and the continement to which I have of | late been subjected is affecting my health. I think, sir, I should feel much better it [ were permitted to walk | for an hour or so in the garden, instead of being locked up in my room.” , “I should fancy,” said Da. Ponte, suspiciously, <‘that | it would be a very bad thing for an invalid to stroll about in the middle of the day beneath an Egyptian | sun. By and by, when it is cooler, you shall have the | run of the garden for an heur, if you wish; and to make | your promenade more agreeable, you shall have my | company.” a The page shot toward the’’peaker a glance of deadly hate, and seemed about to appeal to Giorno, when the latter said: ; “Go now, Stefano, and make. your preparations for a | journey. Weshall leave Cairo this evening. And say | to Signora Spagnoli that I wa speak with her for a | moment.” ; S The page still lingered. His features worked strange- ly. as if he were suffering from keen distress or over- Whelming terror. His lips parted as if he were about to | speak ; then, appearing to make a strong effort to col- lect himself, he bowed to Giorno, and turned quickly to | leave the room. “Not so fast, good Master Stefano!” said Da Ponte, | rising. ‘I will accompany you, at least so far as to the door of the signora’s apartment. And when you have delivered your message, I will see you to your own room, where you had better.attend to your preparations for the journey.” Stefano made no reply, and Da Ponte attended him to the apartments on the second fioor occupied by the signora and her charge. When the page, after rapping at the outer door, was admitted, Da Ponte awaited him in ine corridor, and when he came out walked by his side to his own room. There Stefano paused, and eying his companion du- biously, asked: “Are you going to lock me in ?” “Most certainly, fair youth. Wherefore not? You have your packing to attend to, and will have no time for promenading.” ‘Signor Da Ponte,” cried the page, in tearful tones, “why do you persecute me in this unmanly way? Of what evil do you suspect me ?” “IT have no time to bandy words with you,” answered e@ page © uly through the door, Da Ponte, pushing” e : out the key and which he then putting it into hi eet een. As the sound of his footsteps receded along the cor- ridor, the page clasped his+iands as if in the bitterest anguish, and lifting his eyes to heaven, exclaimed, in accents of despair : f ‘Holy Virgin! this is too horrible! What shall I do? What shallIdo? Alas! I can do nothing!” Uttering these broken exclamations, he fell on his knees by the side of his bed and gave way to a passion of tears. But this despairing mood was of short duration. “Good heavens!” he cried, suddenly springing to his feet, ‘what a miserable coward I am! Why did I not break away from that cold-blooded murderer, Giorno, as we passed through the streets? What prevented me? Nothing but my own feeble heart. He could not have pursued me. J will not remain here a prisoner while this bloody deed is being done. I will at least make an effort to warn the victims.” So saying, the page went to his window and looked down into the garden, The distance to the ground was little more than twice the eight of aman. There was no one in sight. Throwing open the blind, he let himself drop from the window. Then with a light but rapid step he made his way to the end of the garden, where he threw him- self down, trembling with excitement, behind a great clump of callas. From this place of concealment he could see the gate of the garden and the front entrance of the house. Not a human being was to be Seen, and the silence of mid- night reigned on every side, “I have no time to lose,” he murmured to himself, <‘for Imay be missed at any moment. And now, may the Virgin protect and aid mel, With this fervent ejaculation he began to steal cau- tiously along the garden wall, keeping himself as much concealed as possible by the shrubbery until he reached the gate. Peeping stealthily through the foliage, he | the hall. which used to be the Old House of Representatives. ‘There are several sets of these stones. A person stand- ing on one can hear a second person whisper, if that per- son is on the corresponding stone on the other side of One of the most curious of these stones is the capture. long distance one. The stone is near the north door of | the hall, while the person who talks must stand on the | threshold of the door-way of the south entrance, some twenty feet away. Any one Standing on the stone near the north door can hear the familiar whispers uttered | on the doorsteps of the south door. The other day a/ bride and groom were among the visitors. They were | from New York, and one of the groom’s friends was showing them around. Of course he was explaining the whispering stones to them. The bride was on the north stone, and the friend stood upon the steps of the | south door. He was whispering to her several ttle | things of interest about the hall. She had her back tw- ward him. @ <-_____——- EXAMINE YOURSELF. The more fully we come to understand the heart and life of any one, his motives and his aims, his purposes and plans, the more mysteries we discover. So the more we know of ourselves, the more we find that is inex- plicable and contradictory. Let any one who thinks he has fathomed his own nature and sounded ifs depths watch his daily life closely, and he will finda thousand fractures in the smooth and comprehensive ideal he has imagined to himself. He will be surprised at a heroism of which he had not thought himself capable, or he will be shocked at some meanness which he had Subpeeae impossible ; here he will discern marks of an ability of which he had not dreamed, and there he will pause in wonder to see how far short he falls of his own inten- tions. ' ——__——_ > 9+ WomMEN accomplish their best work in the quiet seclu- sion of the home and family by sustained effort and pa- tient perseverance in the path of duty. The influence they exercise, even though it be unrecorded, lives after them, and in its consequences forever. AGE is not to be feared ; the older a good and healthy person grows, the greater becomes his capacity to enjoy the deeper, sweeter, and more noble kinds of happiness which the world affords. Ae Prery and virtue are not only delightful for the present, but they leave peace and contentment behind them. RicHEs either serve or govern their pessessor, ARROGANCE is the obstruction of wisdom. : Mies Be SAL ann Oey ae Ce Os PETE ee