*

 

| VOL. 48—No, 60,

s cupied them. te lng ore noc years ago,
+ <> Q2R ct my search for my not | batt.
{— Lhave a feeling that they do. Perhaps-the letter

 

_ of this paper come together.

 

 

‘THE NEW YORK WEEKLY. =~

 

 

_ THERE’S A NEW MOUND IN THE
a CHURCH-YARD.

BY NATHAN D. URNER.

There’s a new mound in the church-yard,
_ All brown amid the green,
_ And the village still is mourning
_ For gentle Daisy Dean.
But a fortnight gone, her footstep
From the wild-flowers dashed the dew,
And her happy smile o’er hearth and home
Its tender sunshine threw.

Her laugh was always lightest,
When through the fields we'd roam ;
Her voice was always sweetest
In songs of Harvest Home ;
Her life was like a lily,
That lives on light and air,
Anddies when young and beautiful,
But still in death is fair. .

For the memory of its perfume
Will haunt the sense, and stay,
When its queenly head is withered
And its beauty passed away.
The leaves of her young life opened
In the May-wind’s gentle breath, 2
And our souls inhaled the perfect flower,
Which now is closed in death.

Bring flowers of earth the fairest,
To deck the lowly grave,
‘Till wind, and rain, and sunshine
_ Shall bid the grasses wave
O’er the new mound in the church-yard,
So brown amid the green ;
For an angel now in Paradise
_ Is gentle Daisy Dean.

{THIS STORY WILL NOT BE PUBLISHED IN BOOK-FORM. ]

OR, THE

DBYECRIVEIN THE JEWEL CAVES OF KURI |

By the author of “The American Marquis,” “The
Old Detective’s Pupil,” ‘‘The Wall Street Haul.”

_[* FIGHTING AGAINST MILLIONS” was commenced in
No. 48. Back bers can be obtained of all News
Agents.] : <

sae CHAPTER IX.

- : THE LETTER.

“What do you say ?” demanded Mrs. Bedford.

“I do not know why I should feel so,” answered
Nick, slowly, “but it seems to me I see on this long-

forgotten sheet of paper ashadow which will lead
me to my boy.” oe

“Whatis there? I saw nothing on that side.”

- “See then.” :

He spread the sheet on a little table, and through
the magnifying glass pointed out to them what at
first sight seemed a meaningless tangle of lines, but
which, on more careful study, proved to bea rude
diagram. |

“Some sort of plan,” said Mr. Bedford, “but I do
not see the connection with your child.” ;
“Do you not see barat -ig ape open outline at the

far — ot the diagr

“Then try if you cannot see some words written
there.” : ae, AS :

“Yes, yes; T can.” = é

‘“‘What are they?” asked Mrs. Bedford, eagerly.
“Krr—Talamalla—Krr,” read Mr. Bedford, slowly.
“Of course,” said Nick, “those words, or that

word, convey no meaning to you.” ~

~ “No.”

“Nor do they to me; but Mouk-ma and Hwad-ma,

- the two men who have tried so hard to gain pos-
| session of your ruby, uttered them in a tone and in a
| way that leave no doubt in my mind that they are of

some vast importance inthe mission which has oc-

affect

will further enlighten me.” __ e

“T fear not,’ said Mrs. Bedford, “since it was
written by my mother to my father.” :

_ Nick turned the sheet and glanced at the writing.
- bes in French, and though much faded was qui
egible. ; :

“Beloved husband,” it began, “should your por-
trait, which it tears my heart to with, ever
reach you, Goat will, [am sure, search it until you
tind this. You may at this moment be dead. If so,
God will, I know, permit you to come to me and
bear me up in the midst of the devilish enchantments
which surround me. ;

“If you'are yet alive, and shall receive this, you
will read through the lines and find me. Come to
mein twenty days or I shall cease to live. What
they mean I do not know, but the priests of the
ruby say that when the full moon looks upon the
diamond throne, I shall be made Moyou Mama.

_ “Heaven send you to my aid, or Ishalldie. TIcan
only learn that the full moon will see the diamond
throne in twenty days. What Moyou Mama is I can

that guess is fullof horror. The

only guess,
puleoun Jacques Bartol is called Moyou Papa, and is

almost worshiped as a god.
_ “He leers upon me when he sees me, and my soul
is sick with a strange loathing. I think they mean
to marry me tohim. Heaven help me! I will die
first. -Meet me on earth or in heaven. These dark
priests of Satan shall not steal my soul.

“The American, Hooper, has sworn by his here-

- after to carry this portrait to you, and to save our
little Mathilde. I do not trust him, but I have no
I do not know how he gains access here.

choice,
_ Everything is so unreal that I sometimes doubtif I

really see anything asitis. Do not think I am mad,

but I sometimes think [ am in the realms of the
eternally condemned. But I know I am alive, an

_ that my soul is safe.

“Oh, my husbadd! Oh, my little one!
ever see you again?
“MATHILDE DESMOULINS DUPAIGE,
“With the love of God and the hatred of sin.”

__ For some moments after the a of this strange
letter Nick sat in silence, which was undisturbed by
his companions. At last he spoke. ;

“You wished for my opinion, did you not?”

“Yes,” they answered, eagerly. |

“Tam unable to give one now; but I feelin my
heart that some day [ shall know what this means.
There is a fate in the way, in which the loss of my
child, the adventure of the ruby, and the discovery

The men Mouk-ma,

Hwad-ma, and Baron @’Orment are concerned in all

these strange matters.”

“Tn the affair of my mother, too, do you mean?”
“In that, too. I remember that when Heoper was

Shall I

dying, he accused Jacques Bar—he could say no_

more—of being your father’s murderer. Before Wil-
shaw died he accused the Baron d@’Orment of mur-
der. I think Jacques Bartol and Baron d’Orment are
the same person. I ain quite sure that he is Moyou

Papa, and that Grace Eldredge is Moyou Mama,

whatever those names may mean. I am also certain

that Mouk-ma and Hwad-ma are priests of the ruby.

It is, moreover, probable that this ruby which I

have is a badge of the order, since each of those men

wears a similar one, Further into the mystery I

cannot go except gropingly.”

oe speaks of devilish enchantments, and
both erbert and I had a strange experience with

_ those men.

Sy en might partially account for what hap-
pened.” : :
“Will you dare to pursue men gifted with such

bag iM | Sey tte Boe :
“If it be mesmerism,” said Nick, with a smile, “TI
fancy ey will find an adeptin me. May I take this
letter, will you also let me have the portrait? I
do not know how either may assist me.” :
= e them, by all means.”’

“You have nothing more to tell me ?”

“Nothing. What will your wife do while you are |

ne, for if the men go to Europe, I suppose you will,

“Yes, unless I find clews to my child in other di-
rections. Ethel will go to her mother’s.”

“Why not let her come here? We shall have acom-

- mon interest at stake, and besides, we are very fond

of each other.”

“Twill tell her what you say. I must go now. At|
eons: at the safe deposit, Mr. Bedford.”

will be there waiting for you.”

CHAPTER X. |
ik tint epkney £6 Mee ef eee
_“Pshaw!” muttered Nick, as he hastened away
from the Bedfords. “I feel as if I had been meeting
ghosts. But for this rul aoe this strange letter I
should fancy I had been dreaming. I must have a
x hat my imagination does not play me some

t a Ae .
: tgiek. Whatever my fancies or beliefs, I shall not

ake a move except in the cold light of reason.” —
nd with a sharp wave of his hand, as if to em-
ze this resolve
the order: |

| something like

,he called a hack and stepped in,

Bidding the driver wait, he ran up stairs to the
office and examined the register. Ethel, under the
name of Morrow, had arrived from Phila-
deiphia. : :

Being assured of finding her there, he ran down
and was driven to the office of the eoumsiip Etruria.
It was a but being sailing day, he knew the
office would be om Sas

It was, and he had no difficulty in obtaining a look
at the passenger list.

There were no tell-tale names on it, but Nick had
no hesitation in asking outright for the information
he wanted.

“A message came to our house from San Francisco
early this morning for a Baron d’Orment, who it was
supposed was going to sail on the Etruria to-day. I
don’t see his name here.” - :

“Then he isn’t going—anyhow, hasn't bought his
ticket yet.” 4

“Maybe he used another name for incognito. He
has a wife, baby. and two foreign servants looking
indoos.”

“Don’t remember any such person.”

“Maybe the servants engaged the state-rooms.
Tall, dark, gentlemanly.”

“Sold two tickets to one such yesterday. There
are the names—Caniman Habbabee and brother.
Persians, I guess.”

“They can’t be the ones,” said Nick, though in-
wardly sure that Mouk-Ma and his brother hid under
the Parsee name. ‘Does any other European steam-
er sail to-day ?” ; .

“No, sir.”

“Any sail yesterday ?”

“No, sir.” :

For some time Nick had noticed a nautical looking
man listening with interest to the conversation. At
first he had suspected him, but in a few moments he
was certain that the man was only an idle lounger
attached in some way to the office.

He seemed to have something to say, and Nick,

ever ready to pick up any scrap of information, gave
him achance to say it. e turned with a shrug, and
said, almost atthe man: .
“Well, Pve done the best I could. If rich French
noblemen will go rushing around the world they
must expect to lose something occasionally.” .
“A Frenchman, did you say ?”’

“Yes.”

The man turned to the ticket clerk.

“Don’t you remember, Mr. Sims, that Tom was
saying a day or two ago that a Frenchman had
bought that new steam yacht of Pillman’s?”’

“Yes. What of it?’

“Why, she cleared yesterday; and I thought
may be——” ; :

ae nonsense! Has that freight been transferred
e@ *

“Yes, sir,” said the abashed man.

“Then go see about those steerage passengers.”
“Yes, sir.”

The man went out, and Nick followed him.

“T haven't any doubt your Frenchman is the one I’m
after. Where did the yacht lay ?’

“Off Tompkinsville.”

“What was her name?’

“The Daisy.” :

“Has she sailed yet, do you think ?”

“T don’t know; but you can find out at the Mari-
time Exchange. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Nick jumped into his hack, with the order to drive
at once to the Exchange, the address of which he

gave.

Only members are supposed to be entitled to the
information gathered there at great daily cost, but
Nick knew the value of an air of confidence, and so,
with cool effrontery, walked by the doorkeeper and
studied the great bulletin.

“Daisy. Yacht. Tonnage, 500. J. Bartol, owner;
Perkins, master. Cleared for Havre. Passed Sandy
Hook at daylight.”

Nick read the words chalked on the great black-
board, and knew for a certainty that the Baron
d’Orment and Jacques Bartol were the same Man. ~

He knew that the coarse, brutal Frenchman was
the mysterious Moyou Papa of Mathilde Dupaige;
that Grace Eldredge was Moyou Mama, and that in

Sao
or us
1

Restephibecneaeebinee y
Lr
ere

 

 

 

Li/
=~.

 

 

“ THERE’S A DOLLAR FOR YOUR INFORMATION,” SAID
NICK. ‘YOUR FRENCHMAN IS THE ONE I’M AFTER.”

some fateful way his baby Ralph was being carried
away to_be buried, perhaps, in the dark secrets of
those priests of the ruby, so feared by the poor
creature whose letterhad been revealed to him in
such a strange way.

“She said he should live a life of sin and shame,
and die by the hands of the public executioner. Her
success in hounding me was so complete that she had
finally lost respect for my powers and said too
much. Ordoes she expect me to follow her? Well,
she may expect what she pleases; I shall follow, and
ae succeed or die trying. Something tells me
that. -

He half muttered this to himself, and then turned
to the clerk of the Exchange, who sat sorting papers
at his side. ‘

“Did you hear that this Bartol who bought the
Daisy made a bet of ten thousand dollars that he’d
reach Havre two days before anybody from the
Etruriacould getthere. A manleaves on the steamer
on og to rush right over to Havre.”

“The Frenchman has more money than wit, then.
The Daisy is a hummer, but she can't gain any such
time on a big steamer on an ocean voyage.”

“Of course not,” said Nick; “and anyhow, she
ean’t carry coal to push the whole way, can she ?”

“Oh, yes; but she left without taking much more
than enough.”

» CHAPTER XI.
“1 CANNOT STAY BEHIND.”

“So then,” thought Nick, as he left the Exchange.
“T have learned two important things; the Daisy
can’t be going on a long voyage because she doesn’t
earry coal for it, and consequently that she is really
going to Havre, where I don’t doubt my ruby men
will join the party. I can do nothing better than fol-.
low them.”

oe paid the hack driver before he took his seat,
saying:

“Tf want you to goto the Grand Central Depot,
SS eee, want to have to wait to pay you when I
get there.” -

As soon as the hack was in motion, Nick drew the
curtains and converted himself as well as he could in-
toa gentleman in appearance.

Selecting a convenient opportunity when he was
not far from the Astor House, he quietly opened the
hack door, and while the vehicle was still in motion,
slipped out and mingled with the crowd.

Siniling at the thought of the driver’s mystification
on reaching the depot with an empty carriage, Nick
turned in at the Astor Houseand sent his card as
Felix Robinson to his wife. —

She, knowing who it was, had him brought to her
at once. When they stood alone together, she said:

“Who are you?”

“Tt is I, Nick.” <

“I thought so. Have you discovered anything?”
she asked, eagerly.

“Grace Eldredge and the Baron d’ Orment are on
their way to Havre, and the two foreign servants of
the latter, Mouk-ma and Hwad-ma leave to-day by
the Etruria for England.”

“And baby Ralph?’

“Ts er, with Grace. At least I must as-
sume that much. I will tell you everything and you
can judge for yourself.”

He told her succinctly what had taken place, end-
ing by saying:

“So you see I must go with tifese men in hopes that
they will lead me to our little one. Will you go to your
mother, or to Mrs. Bedford’s ?”

“Nick, dear, I cannot stay here and wait; I must
go with you.”

“But, Ethel, I cannot have you. Do you not re-
member, dear, that once before I let you take partin
one of my adventures with the result of nearly losing
both our lives. I said then I would never risk it

in.”

“And T, dear, said I would never again hamper you.
Nor would I in any mere detective case; but you are
now going after my baby, and I cannot—indeed I can-
not stay behind.” ee
_ Nick shook his head sorrowfully, and she continued
with beseeching vehemence: e

“JT will not interfere with you. I will not attemptto
aid you. I only ask te follow you. Nick, dear, I never

 

 

«Children Cry for Pitcher's Castoria,

 

disputed your judgment before; please do not deny
me now.”

“These people are so dangerous, darling.” 3

“The more reason why I should go. If they are
dangerous they may kill you and my baby. Could I
wait here for such news? No, no,Nick. Indeed you
must let me go.”

“So be it then,” sighed Nick.

“No, no, not that way,” pleaded Ethel. “I want
pe not to yield, but to believe with me that it is

est.” : ;

Nick laughed in spite of his forebodings of danger
to her, and exclaimed :

“Tf. that isn’t woman-like; you make me do what
T don’t want to, and then insist that I shall be pleased
overit. You’re the same sweet little wh er you
used to be.” -

And he kissed her with a sort of pathetic fond-

ness.
“Yhen that is settled,” she cried, eagerly. “Now
tell me what I must do first, and I will not bother you
n »

“Haye you money enough to buy a ticket to Liver-
0.

“Plenty.”

“Then buy one for the Etruria, and I will see you
on board unless something very unexpected occurs
to prevent. If I should fail from any cause to get

\

 

“There’s a dollar for your information,” he said; | ~“—>

“TT IS I, NICK!”

aboard, go right on to Havre and look for Grace.
Only be very cautious.”

“How shall I know you ?”’

“I shall go as a middle-aged German gentleman,
and will let the end of ared silk handkerchief hang

out of my coat-pocket. ;

“Shall I tell you how to know me?” asked Ethel.

“T guess I shall know you,” laughed Nick.

“We shall see,” said Ethel, nodding her pretty head
as if she proposed to make recognition difficuit even
for her lynx-eyed husband.

Nick looked at his watch. ets

“T shall have time,” he said, “to do a few neces-
sary things before I meet Bedford. Good-by for a
little while.” :

He kissed her and was gone.

His first act was to buy a small valise, and he was
careful to select one that was much shop-worn as he
did not wish it to attract attention by its newness.

After that he bought what is known as a California
money belt—a strong leathern belt containing a
series of pouches, and intended to be worn around
the waist next to the skin. *

Then he replenished his pocket case of paints for
disguise, and finally seeking a store, well-known to
him, he bought clothing suitable for the various
characters he had decided to personate.

When all this was done, he sought the safe deposit
vault and to his satisfaction saw Mr. Bedford wait-
ing for him in the reading-room, <p

He picked wp a paper, and threw himself carelessly
into a chair. While pretending to read he let hiseyes
rove around the room in search of any suspicious
character. ;

Being at last satisfied that there was none such
there, he arose and walked carelessly past the wait-
ing and unsuspicious Mr. Bedford.

“Ruby !” :

He dropped the word softly, and Mr. Bedford un-
accustomed to any sort of acting started to his feet
at once. Hn

“TI was beginning to get nervous,” he said.

Nick laughed softly, thinking to himself that it was.

well he had first assured honagt that the
under surveillance, before ty
his impulsive friend.

Together, after the usual forms had been gone
ones at the entrance to the vault, they went

own. ’

The man in charge down stairs opened the special
vaultin which Mr. Bedford’s valuables were deposited,
and then withdrew.

Mr. Bedford opened his box, and drew out two
oblong cases. He lifted the covers of both, and
though accustomed to the sight, drew a long breath
as he did so.

. bi tage pes was enough to make any one draw along
reath.

Both cases were nearly full of unusually large
diamonds, rubies, aperh ines: and emeralds, and in
the bright electric light of the vault they flashed out
a bewildering shower of rainbow gleams.
ei it matter which of the stones I' take?’ asked

ck.

“Not at all.”

“Then I will take only. diamonds, and will select
those that can be most easily sold.”

With a discrimination that showed his knowledge
of stones, he picked out a number of medium sized
ones.
“There!” he said, as he dropped them nonchalantly
into a little cMamois skin bag, “I guess I have about
a hundred thousand dollars worth.”

“And will that be enough? You know you are wel-
come to every stone here.” _

“T know it, and I thank you. You thinkI have
done you great service in times past. I hope you
will be happy in knowing that I should have been
at a loss but for your help now.”

“T am glad to have helped you. Do you go to
Europe as you anticipated daing ?”’

“T have ne doubt the two men will go. Grace and
the baron have already left in a private steam yacht.
Of course, I shall go with the twomen. Iam going

CUPL EL) Sih i
[FTL "NI Sey
AUT fp

were not
ng himself known to

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AN v

 

NICK WALKED PAST MR. BEDFORD, AND UTTERED
THE WORD ‘“ RUBY.”

now to look after them, and shall not lose sight of
them again.”
“Good-by, then, and may you have the good luck
you deserve.”
:
CHAPTER XII.
NICK DROPS STRATEGY.

Shortly before noon that day, Mouk-ma and Hwad-
ma, erect, impassive, cold, walked up the gang-plank
of the steamer.

They paid little attention to anybody on the
steamer, but a stout, met Soar sae German gen-
tleman, with a red silk handkerchief hanging care-
lessly from his coat-pocket, noticed that they cast
eo searching glances behind them and over the
wharf.

“They are lookirg for me, it seems,’ he muttered.
“They know I am not in the Tombs, and they expect
me to follow. Ah! and they take up positions to
watch for me. Yes, and there goes Hwad-ma to
search the steamer. Well,I guess you won't discover
Nick Carter in Herr Conreid Puttkamer. I wonder
what keeps Ethel ?”

As the thought took form in his mind, a carriage
came rapidly down the wharf and stopped, with
great bustle, near the gangwa

First a pompous German

y.
ntleman yy ens He
aided an equally pompous

erman lady get out,

 

 

and then addressing some sharp words to somebody

inside, led the lady to the gang-plank.

The next to get out was a meek-looking German
woman in nurse’s costume. She aided two pert little
girls to alight, and then led them after their parents,
up the gang-plank.

Nick watched the er with outward indifference
and inward amusement for a few moments, and then
suddenly muttered :

“Ethel, as I live! What a magnificent get-up!
But, poor girl! what a life those upstarts, with their
saucy children, will lead her! Ah! but I like the
spirit— willing to make a servant of herself, to insure
a better'disguise. How it will please her when I tell
her she deceived me for a little while.”

Nick noticed that the two men, while maintaining
an appearance of cold indifference, nevertheless kept
a sharp lookout until the steamer was under way.

And after that, and during the whole voyage,
though they bore themselves with haughty reserve
toward everybody, repelling all advances, they yet
studied everybody, even going into the steerage for
that purpose.

Acute as they were, however, Nick felt that he had
effectually put them at fault.

Still, their constant wariness proved to him that he
must be more than usually circumspect, if he would
not fall into some snare.

They certainly did not reeegnize him, but since
they believed he was following them, they would
never lead him tothe end he sought until he had
made them believe he was no longer tracking them.

How to accomplish that he would have to leave to
chance and the future. It was enough for the pres-
ent that, however certain they might be that he was
in their wake, they had not yet recognized him.

_Throughout the voyage he conducted himself so
eircumspectly that nobody could have known that he
was any other than he purported to be.

He and Ethel exchanged a few words only, and
when thesteamer reached Liverpool], he acted without
regard to her, and followed close after his men.

They took the most direct route to Southampton,
and from there took the steamer to Havre.

To avoid all chance of detection, Nick changed his
disguise, first at Liverpool, and again at Southampton,
and finally, at Havre converted himself into a
Frenchman. :

He would have liked to take rooms in the same
hotel with them, but, anxious to avoid everything
likely to arouse suspicion, he contented himself with
keeping a constant watch upon thein.

Two, three, four days passed, and, though the two
men visited the wharves daily, they saw nothing of
the Daisy.

Nick could see that they were becoming uneasy,
proving that if any trick had been played by the
artful woman who had stolen his child, the two men
were as much victims as he.

On the sixth day Mouk-ma went to the post-office
and inquired for letters. Then to the telegraph
office. oth visits were fruitless.

In the meantime Nick had several times seen and
spoken to Ethel, who, as a prim English maiden lady,
was boarding at one of the hotels.

That evening he saw her, and told her how evi-
dently anxious the men were becoming.

“Do you think,” asked she, turning pale, “that any-
thing can have Seeponee to the Daisy ?”’

“No, for the weather has been unusually fine since
she left New York.”

“Can they have deceived even these men, then ?”

“Not that either. They certainly don’t know
where the Daisy is; but I am sure that sooner or
later Grace will communicate with them.”

“Have you any theory about the matter ?”

“Well, I have a suspicion at least. I am afraid
that as soon as Grace knew I had escaped she felt
sure I would dog these men to their place of meeting
with her. She is very eunning, and could easily see
that the best way to fool me would be to keep these
men ignorant until she could perfect some plan to
effectually throw me off the scent.”

“But if the men finally meet her, it seems to ——”

“That I cannot be thrown off?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it seems so; but I have great respect for the
Baroness d’Orment’s wit, and I know that at this

THE BARON SAW NICK’S SWIFT MOVEMENT AND THUN-
DERED A COMMAND TO THE DRIVER.

moment she is concocting a scheme which will take
my best skill to baffle.”

“But you will baffle it ?’

Ethel spoke anxiously.

“T hope so, dear. Indeed I am sure that I shall.
By the way, whom do you think I saw to-day ?’

“T know. You mean Captain Rawdone. I
hin, too.”

“The brave fellow is as handsome and _ noble-
looking as ever. I could hardly keep from hailing
him when I saw him.”

“T wanted to make myself known, too; but I knew
it wouldn’t do, for in his impetuous way he would be
determined to join us in our pursuit.”

“Yes, and he would feel shat he bad some right in
this case, because of having helped me when I was
after Grace’s first husband. There’s no better man
living, but we must work this alone. Good-by, 1
mustn’t stay away any longer.”

Another and still another day passed and the two
men had to exercise all their self-control, as Nick
could see, to avoid the outward display of the ex-
treme uneasiness they felt.

Each day they went to the post and telegraph
office several times.

On the ninth day Mouk-ma’s black eyes sparkled.

A letter was handed to him at the post-office.

He cast a hasty, searching glance about him and
tore open the envelope.

He read the letter eagerly through, and then with
an air of barely concealed joy thrust it into his
pocket and hurried to the hotel.

“T must see that letter,” said Nick.

At two o’clock that afternoon the two men bought
tickets for Paris.

Nick did the same.

A moment later he mingled in the crowd, and was
pushing and being pushed in his efforts to get to the
cars.

He was pressed close against the stately Mouk-ma.

A few seconds later he was on the outskirts of the
crowd, reading Mouk-ma’s letter, which he had skill-
fully picked from his pocket.

It was brief and in English. Grace had written it.

Mouk-MA AND HwabD-MA: The baron’s palace in
Paris without a moment's delay. All well. Beware
of the strong and cunning one. M.

“Moyou Mama,” said Nick to himself, “and IT am
‘the strong and cunning one.’ Well, we shall see.
Now to put this back, and then to see what will occur
at the baron’s palace.”

Once more he made his way to Mouk-ma’s side, and
with the skill of the most accomplished pickpocket,
slipped the letter back into the pocket.

As soon as Paris was reached the two men sprang
into a cab, and gave the order to be driven to the
Baron d’Orment’s palace.

Nick could have taken another route and reached
the palace first, but he had become imbued with the
idea that from the moment Grace had begun to act
he must never lose sight of some one of the con-
spirators.

Consequently, he ran after the cab, keeping it
easily in sight. And as he ran he thought.

“What shall I do when they enter the palace? I
eannot follow them. Butif I stay outside they may
escape me. The palace has four distinct entrances ;
I can watch but two. I dare not lose sight of the
men, and yet I dare not betray myself. Ah! what
shall I do?”

He could not make up his mind, and concluded to
wait and let events guide him, always firm in the
purpose of not letting the men out of his sight, even
at the risk of betraying himself.

The cab turned into a broad, handsome avenue.
The palace was three streets beyond the corner.

Nick scanned the vicinity of the palace with a keen

saw

eye.

A close carriage with two horses stood in front of
the palace.

“Ah!” he muttered, as he drew nearer, “the door of
the carriage is open. A man—the baron, himself—
gets out. He is waiting for his servants. I see.
They will jump in there, and I shall have a tight run
for it. Well, Ihave legs and lungs equal to it.”

The cab drove up behind the carriage.

The men saw the baron, and in answer to a sign
from him sprang out almost before the cab stopped.

Children Cry for Pitcher’s Gastoria,

 

 

The baron threw the driver a piece of gold, and
sprang into his own carriage, followed closely by
Mouk-ma and Hwad-ma.

Nick on the opposite side of the street quickened
= pe and passed the carriage before it could
start.

A glance, swift and searching, showed him a woman
hidden almost from sight, leaning back in the
cushions of the carriage—showed him a white,
chubby baby hand waving playfully!

That was enough! No need of more strategy!

He darted across the broad street.

The baron at that moment peered out of the
window.

He saw Nick’s swift movement, and drew hurriedly
back, thundering a command to the driver.

The whip came down on a pair of fiery horses, and
they bounded madly forward.

Nick was half way across.

_He gauged the speed of the animals, darted ob-
liquely ahead, and leaped forward.

He landed on the carriage step, with one hand
clutching the window.

The three men inside struck at him savagely. He
parried the blows, and without hesitation snatched
the baby and sprang down.

In a second, and before the carriage could stop, the
baron and his two servants had thrown open the
doors and leaped into the street.

Nick saw the action, and turned and faced them.

A crowd instantly gathered.

A gendarme broke his way through.

“Well, what is this?”

The carriage had stopped.

“My baby! He has stolen my baby! Oh, the
wretch !”

“A child stealer! A kidnapper!” cried the crowd,

But Nick heeded only the woman who had alighted
from the carriage, and was stretching out her arms
forthe baby. It was not Grace.

A sickening suspicion flashed across his brain. He
looked at the baby.

It was not little Ralph.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

WEDDED FOR PIQUE.

nd

By MRS. MAY AGNES FLEMING, -

Author of **‘ Guy Earlscourt’s Wife,” “A Wonderful
Woman,” “A Mad Marriage,” ‘‘ One Night's
Mystery,” ‘‘ Lost for 2 Woman,” etc.

CHAPTER XXX.
THE SENTENCE.

At day-dawn next morning Cliftonlea was all bustle
and stir; and atten o’clock the court-house was a
perfect jam. There were troops of people down
from London, who knew the Shirleys; swarms of
newspaper reporters, note-book and pencil in hand,
not to speak of half the county besides. The gallery
was filled with ladies, and among them glided in one
in a long shrouding mantle, and wearing a thick
vail; but people knew the white face of Margaret
Shirley, despite any disguise.

The colonel was there, and so was Sir Roland; and
so was Joe, the gamekeeper’s son, looking scared
beyond everything, and full of the vague notion that
he stood in as much danger of hanging, himself, as
the prisoner.

The prisoner did not look at all alarmed; he sat in
the dock as he had sat in his cellthe day before,
pale, quiet, and perfectly calm, scanning the crowd
with his dauntiess black eyes, and meeting the gaze
of all, known and unknown, with the stoicism of an
Indian. Some of the reporters began sketching his
face in their note-books. Tom saw it, and smiled;
and the crowd set him down as a cool hand, and a
guilty one.

Very few present had any doubt of his guilt—the
facts that had come out at the inquest were strong
against him; and there was nobody else, apparently,
in the world who had the least interest in the death
of the murdered man. All knew by that time how
everything stood—how infatuated he had been with
the young lady, and how madly jealous he was of the
accepted lover. And everybody knew, too, what
jealousy will make, and has made, the best of men
do, from King David down; and Tom’s hasty and
violent temper was notorious. Worst of all, he re-
fused to give any account of himself whatever; for
the simple fact that he had no account to give that
would not involve Vivia’s name; and the tortures of
a wartyr would not have drawn that from him ina
crowded court-room. After the scene in the star-

{ light under the chestnuts, he had fled from the place

and haunted Cliftonlea like a lost ee On the
bridal-night, an insane impulse drew him back again
with a relentless hand, and he had wandered up and
down among the trees almost beside himself, but
wholly unable to go away.

Tom could not very well have told his pitiable tale
of love-sickness and insanity to a grim judge and
jury; so he just held his tongue, resoived to let
things take their course, almost indifferent to the
issue. 4

Things did take their course. They always do, -
where those two inexorable fates, Time and Law, are
in question. The case was opened in a brilliant
speech by the counsel for the crown, that told hard
on the prisoner, and then the witnesses were called.
Joe came in requisition, and so did Mr. Sweet's Eliza-
beth; and it would be hard to say which of the two
was the more terrified, or which cried the more be-
fore they were sent down. Mr. Sweet had to give
evidence, so had Colonel Shirley, so had Sir Roland,
so had the doctor, so had the gamekeeper, so had a
uumber of other people, whom one would think had
nothing to do with it. And at three o’clock the court
adjourned, leaving things pretty much as they were
before; the prisoner was remanded back to his cell;
the mob went home to their dinners, and to assert
confidently that before long there would be an execu-
tion in Cliftonlea.

The trial lasted three days; and with each passing
one the interest grew deeper, and the case more and
more hopeless. Every day the crowd in and around
the court-house grew more dense; and always the
first on the ground was the shrinking figure of the
vailed lady. But onthe third day, justas the case
was drawing to a close, something happened that
settled the last doubt in the minds of the jury, if
such a thing as a doubt had ever rested there. A
woman who had made her way through the crowd by
dint of sharp elbows and sharper tongue, and had
taken her place on the witness-stand, in a very de-
termined and excited state of mind. The woman
was Jeannette, who had followed her young lady to
France, and had evidently just come back from that
delightful land; and on informing them she had
taken a long journey to give important evidence, she
was sworn, and asked what she had to say.

Jeannette had a good deal to say, chiefly in paren-
thesis, with a strong French accent, a great many
Mon Dieus, and no punctuation. marks to speak of.
It appeared, however, when the evidence was shorn
of all French embellishment, that on the night the
deceased had returned from London (a couple of days
before the one fixed for the wedding), Miss Vivia had
been wandering alone in the park, where she was
suddenl joined by the prisoner. She, Jeannette, had
followed her young lady out to warn her against
night-dews, when, hearing a loud and angry voice,
she halted, discreetly, at a distance, with a true in-
stinct of her class, to listen. There she had over-
heard the prisoner making very loud and honest pro-
testations of love to Miss Shirley; and when re-
jected, and assured by her she would marry none but
Mr. Cliffe, he had burst outin such a way, that she,
Jeannette, was scared pretty nearly into fits, and she
was perfectly sure she had heard him threaten to mur-
der the bridegroom-elect. Mademoiselle Jeannette
further informed her audience that, believing the
pee guilty, her conscience would not let her

eep the matter secret, and it had sent her across the
channel, in spite of sea-sickness, unknown to her
young oe to unburden her mind.

It was hard evidence against the prisoner; and
though mademoiselle underwent a galling cross-ex-
amination, her testimony could not be shaken,
though it left her, as it well might, in a very wild and
hysterical state of mind at its close.

Colonel Shirley, standing near Tom, stooped down
in dismay, and whispered :

“Have you anything to say to all this ?”

“Nothing; itis perfectly true.”

“Then your case is hopeless.”

“Tt has been hopeless all along,” said Tom, quietly,
as Mademoiselle Jeannette descended, trembling
with excitement because of the cross-examination
she had undergone.

There was nothing more to be done. The evidence
was summed up in one mighty mass against the
prisoner, and the jury retired to find a verdict. It
was not hard to find. In five minutes they were
back, and the swaying and murmuring of the crowd
subsided into an awful hush of expectation as the
foreman arose.

“Gentlemen of. the jury, is the prisoner at the bar
guilty or not guilty of the felony with which he is
charged ?”

And solemnly the answer came, what everybody
knew it would be:

“Guilty! my lord.”

The judge arose with his black cap on his head.
His address to the prisoner was eloquent and touch-
ing, and the crowd seemed to hush their very heart-
beating to listen. There were tears in his eyes before
he had done; and his voice was tremulous as he
closed with the usual ghastly formula.

“Your sentence is, that you be taken hence to the
place whence you came, thence to the place of execu-
tion, to be hanged by the neck till dead, and may
God have mercy on your soul!” :

He sat down, but the same dead silence reigned