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New York, N. Y“, rat Second Class Mall Rates. Copyrighted in 1881 by BEADLE AND Anus. September in m

 
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No. 97. illicit W. PUBLISHEDHWEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, 98 WILLIAM ST., NfY. PRICE, 5 CENTS

 
' ' on the top of a small birch tree that clung to an overhanging
  rock in the middle of the torrent, the 'white upturned surface of

‘ the leaves tossed sideways by the gentle breeze, were all given; and
. . < there in the still pool at the side you could see the waver-
BY KAEAq—éﬁzythING ing outline of the stones as the water rippled Over them. In
CHAPTER I. the foreground, too, Melton was just putting in, by a few masterly

CHUMS. touches, your humble servant, as he spreared standing discon.

“Com, Melton, lay down your block, and let us have alittle chat; solately on the bank of the stream winding up his line with an

I’m sick of whipping the water, as I’ve been doing the whole morn- intensely disappointed face that sunny June morning.

 
ing without success. - “There, I have just
What do you think of ng 7..., to ﬁnished,” he said, an-
our new quarters?" I x \  i swerlng my m peel, and
was just winding up / - ’,, a. ‘ putting nu ay his block,

 
my line while speaking;

washing out his brush-
for, as I said, I had

' es, and othervu‘se mak-
been fishing. the whole /_ lug himsalf ready for a
morning Without suc- _ 7 u , ‘  I  ,/‘. J , , ~ -— quiet chat; for It Was a
cess, and had now re- , ._\ ' “A, - ‘ j  x " _ I w * 4 curious thing abort
turned to the place _ ‘\Q 7 o  V, ,r K t . w L,  v ., I  . 3 Melton, that whenever
where!  left Mel- , \ ' \‘V ‘ ' ' ' ' T I »  -» 7 ' , V  .’ ' , ‘i // he could geta lencll or‘
ton sketching a few - s r " " ' " I >4  u  a. brush, he could not
hours before. refiain from using it,
We belonged to the and if he began to use it
detachment that had he soon got so al'sorbed
just been qmrtered st  as not to be able to at-
m: mtg: i  t9  9’s:
are ore e ‘ DOW ll
oomnies; and I being brushes and pengils
infatuated about ﬁsh— away, so as to enable
- ing, while my compan- him todevote his whole
Kg; t"with hequally has; attention to the little
a u s e c mg,wa chat I‘had desired.
gone out. on an excur- “ What do I think of
sion, combining the our dudrtergjyou ask-
two obJectsto‘our mu-_ _' ed me,” he went on.
m? gratiﬁceitionix an “I like them; the town
t; was a. ovey y, p is clean and neat the
in J une; the little river ,1 bayﬁacks are comféﬂ,a_
by which we twggﬁrllt- bio, and,_ above all, the
335,, éiﬁiun‘éoetmi ignfiii “13' "3" item?" ‘
7 l ' t xum. 11
ﬂat rose blue before us" ‘ "‘ _ \ ‘sketchipg while we is.
in t e sunny distance, R 7 main. here.” ' s "f
and the‘trees in their ~ _ ‘1 75558371 51 ran’s'we'rga,
young . bright green ‘ ‘ ‘/ jams;- pettishly,"‘fthutfs
dipped their branches " _ ell you think about;
into the dark foam- . ‘tht the ﬁshing is beast.
.ﬂecked water that had ‘ ly;,.at least as far 3st
‘not yet calmed int) its ‘ have seen ‘toeda‘y,’ end
ordinarggli quiet ﬂow, , thehhuntlin'g, season is
after ng over a one a ‘ong' we (3
splendid mass of rocks that there is no ycom-
that rose in rugged fort in looking forward
grandeur a httle way to it; while I haven’t a
“bi?” th's fall Mel 3230?th getting tin,
,was 1 ‘ grouse is
tK312111841 been Skittlcbililgd, tylfari t0 While away
an as I now 006 I ~ , V p 0 ntermediate
overhisshoulderlcould ‘  .' " _ no,  ‘  _ . ‘ ., g ' j; s time.”
not refrain from an cx- “ ‘ * f  ,w ‘ ‘ ' ‘ ‘ ‘ ’ “My dear fellow, I
Clamation of surprise  4/, ,  I ,_ _ I I, I l I really am sorry for
and delight The fall, 1“.\\:w’”“3»\‘ ( "  ,  . 5 y  9.” your want of success
with its mixture of  \ v v  r ' '  ' this morning, and I

 ”/
 \/ '/ dare say you’ll do bet~
l‘gé

 
A‘ \\ \‘ ‘
\‘NNQ‘
Whit

l majesty was  ‘ / r _ , I. .  _  .V i tar next mm; and if
:halrrningly rendered  A ‘ .2 1‘ .’ , » ‘ i , /  [I f/j‘ ; I  I, I l ﬂ 4 . youu take, my. advigp,
y is clever hand; the .h/t i») r ‘ ~c“ _.  ‘ , / ﬂ ‘ t . » ‘ \p you’d try again after
Lilith geeks of light 0“ ' '  ~ -  I, \‘ ’I i, : ff‘  “ ' -.. x ,  H i, lunch wi'halighter ﬂy.
6 Gaming waters,  .     '  V _____ -  “ . ‘ m i ‘ Stay you have a few
the gleam that danced - MAUI) s FAREWEDH W huuh‘ MELTON. feathers with you; pass

 
- 4

~ thy ﬁghter hate and deﬁance.

.  we

r

‘4!

1——v

them over here, and I’ll tie you one I think
will do.” . - ' ‘

I did as he ,told me, and feeling so for
having spoken so crossly to him, I watche his
nimble ﬁn era as he proceeded to dress a very
artistic-looiing ﬂy. . K ‘

“ Now," said he, as he ﬁnished, “try that in
the dark p001 ovor there,,aud I think it will rise
something before long; but ﬁrst let us take our
lunch now We are together.” ' .

We lay down in the shade, feeling very lazy
and luxurious ; ‘ and While we are discussing the
sandwiches of which our lunch consisted, let
me tell you who Hugh Melton was. and also a
 his history, besides describing his per-
sonal appearance for' the beneﬁt of my lady
friends. ..

First, then, his appearance, which I hope may
no ' f ' Waugh I 0 not know that
he was so ,much ,1 handsome as distinguished
lookingﬁ ' He was unmistakably a gentleman,
~and,/by-the-way, it is not every one even among
;those who really can lay. claim to the title that
looks so ,npwadays; ,tall and, well knit, with
‘ oodphandennd feet, and a face that I never
- ‘ iodg’ht‘é'of' calling handsome, though I always
,admired,itm9re than an other I had ever seen.
Imagine a square .broa brow surmounted by
warylight hair, from under which looked out
dark haielycyes, usually soft and caressing in
expression, though I‘haye seen them ﬂash with

"Ferthe rest, ,his nose could lay claim to no
particular type; and‘his long fair mustache hid a
mouth fromwhich .gleamed a very perfect row of
teeth. ‘There‘Was great determination and in.
ﬂexible Will in the straight eyebrows and square;
cut jaw; and one could imagine that his 
once. made up on any subject, he would not
easily be induced to change it. Altogether? his
would not have been the: pleasant face it was
but forthe'mre softness and sweetness of the
dark eyes, that seemed to caress one with clock,
and that, always made ’me wonder hows/our

..co‘.onel could have the heart to beam on'him,

» when those grave gentleieyes met his. Auto "
his istory, it was sad cnough,9asI thon‘knew. -

it, namely, that he was the only son 
parents ;' in fact, his mother's, _ .:
awa’ match, and her relatives, wealthysp'eéﬁe,
totaﬁy refus :d to haye anything to  as
long as her husband lived; yet   tter
they might well have been proudoftheconnec.
tion, as he, was, though poor, of old. and noble
family. ' He died, however, when Hugh was
about fourteen, and then one his mother’s
brothers, condescendedto 've , ’ aMyeai-ly
income? and schooling for im for s yejarortwo,
to that in, time he d for them: had was
gazettedtothe He hadbeen Miami».

 us now, and his old uncle 

  
ct  wac'aome' wiry


its

wisest and stores an, a, ,, , ,

is». MW. . . ,, .
 .hl'eneiemm ., . ,.  
 . gun immensity . ‘ » 
 , ould mangwlth .21 infringements.
.- :"anciedohmeiig enton him-tr. 
the colonel  , m,  
em on him,  .‘0 imv  i 
j‘fellci'r butch, ,6. Which. Wren 
mm an, pita beg-useum' or
as very warmly. and. chieﬂy _  ,   ‘ ‘
‘se'rvioe'was nearly up, and he. ‘1  . 
.tepay agcod sum of mono to  anyone
 exchange with him. ‘ ghejimad not to
 “re. becauselhs I'have said, hiked nothing
 ut'hie pay, and what he could , for arrow
cleverly dashed off magazine" mi 11.; He man;
aged in this Way‘to keep outiof. debthnd
make both codeimeet; .hutit'was’yery lard
work, and I'often'£itied “him when I saw him
consuming tlie'mi,  ht oil over those cleVer
[sketches w used to, au 11 at afterward in the
' nlted Serii ‘ilmgazine. e was a capital artist
 , aud'that helped his. pocket a little. ,Still
he was kept hard at work to eta-little ready,
cashgan‘d it wasn’t mutabiw ' itdidcome.

    
ate sfathwuatmﬁtiiaeﬁ"
P ‘ cumm-
.   kiﬁ,

' huge must hav ‘ 

H U GE MELTGIN.

pulling away at my pipe, he as ever dashingin
a hasty sketch of our shady res'tingaplace (he
seldom smoked, an d he had always a pencil in
his hands), I asked him iwhat it was old Crusty
(our irreverent name for Colonel Armstrong)
had to say to him that morningwhen they
were closeted such along time" together. 
He laughed—hisgay careless laugh. “Poor
Old Crusty, how he hates me! I quite feel for
him. It really is apity to have a ﬁne corps
like this s oiled by one penniless vaurien ;:.
but really it is just 111‘ being so pemniless that"
keeps me here, also think I would try and
oblige him; However,” he: added, "what do
you think he was saying this morning ? You'd
never guess,'so I may as: wellt‘ell you. 'It
seems, my mother, who is still handbome, and
goes out a good deal, is thinking of marrying

again. Now the person silo haschos'en is a
merchant in the City, verywealtl‘ry; but the
connection'does not suit my uncle's taste, and
he has sent me a message through the colonel,
who is a great friend 'of his (being doubtless
afraid to broach the subject himself), that if I
write to my mother, refusing my consent to
her marriage, and‘farther saying that in the
event of her persisting in her determination - I
must decline having anything more to say 'to
her, he will then» not only purchase all my
future steps, and make me the very handsome
allowance of £800 per annum, but also declare
me his heir. That’s a bribe worth having,
Charlie,” he continued, turning toward me,
and speaking in alight tone that belied the
ﬁerce ﬂash in his eye and the dark frown on
his broad brow.

, , ‘,‘.What did you say _? is the uestion," I re-
plied; thinking, however, that knew the an.~
swerrrpretty well.

‘ “I told the colonel,” answered Hugh, “that
it‘was very well 111 uncle had sent his message
by him ; for if 9 had come in person, I
doubted much if I could have refrained from
the pleasure of throwing him out of the win-
dow. The request alone would have deserved
,ouch'an answer, still more thebrihe.”

"And what did Armstrong say ?” ,

“011', he oh-poohed my sentimentalism,
ache was p eased to call it, and mobsters me
mthe- advantages of bein friends within!
‘11!!le and pocketing his  ; what‘b
it»de enable to make me in the regiment.
 the rest of it. Themseeing me un-
moréd‘by that, he went on to state that'inthe
event 0 my refusing to do as he wished;
my uncle had determined to have nothing
more to do with me, but to leave me in
intent topsink or swim, as best I could. vTo

 Ir replied, that while 11 repudiated:

“Wichita try and» do what I saw manifestlyto be
 and that in no way could Email it to.
 $3 to prevent an mother'previdhig
" f ,f acomfortable mo inher old, e
V; 4 my uncle's ' ' 

    
3} I :m
' him, andwmoonﬁderﬁﬁqmte

'v ' 7-,

gee  intends to  mam my

 ,_ .  right either of‘myiwe’s interfere
eMﬁﬂ-tho‘fmannerotit.” . ~

 $136813”?! .
elbow and locking , ,
had.  own gift  the pencil, that I might
War that;  vcountolyaal'tce,l with .its‘
to , per. t a splendid”?me he inﬂux}:

;. , e.
"mi? “ndi'ﬁi’diié’ih“”i“m’~ it???
 vin ' I "my;  133086: e .-
ton’s ﬂy ii the place “he 
,tcok‘up his position {61' another sketch, and we.
‘bcthi’weut to work. :I  been long at it
when-plug“ a bite; and-“soon was very busy
 a remarkably ﬁne treat. He was a b' /
balmy-er ten pounds’ weight-60 that it too
the some time-to land him, when, greatly en-
couraged b . my success, I continued whipping
the water. ' igently, and in two or three hours
had taken about half 'atdozen ﬁne trout.

Hugh’s voice close to me, as I landed my last, a

 
As we lay there lazily under the trees, I calmly

ﬁne threapounder, “What luck you have

 
  of sentimentalism, it was my a." n" a at,

am  old fellow3"1knew my“.
mm!“ bum 
at him. wishing the'whne ' '

l
d;

rocommended. He

“ Why, 'Gairn'sfordgthat’s splendid! ” said

had! One doosn’t often get such sport as
that.” ' r

‘ ‘ Nor should I to-day if you had not giVen me
that ﬂy. How is, it, old fellow? You know
everything, and yet one never sees you shoot-
ing or ﬁshing”, ' ’ - a , , '

“I used to go in for both. once on a time,
when we. lived. in Ireland, before my father’s
death. I was very young then, but the little
knowledge I‘ picked up about such.things\ has
staid. by me, and I am very glad it has been of
use to you to-d'ay, Charlie. Now you canttake
the» conceit out of that stupidlfool,.Sauth'man,
who is always talking about  doinguin Ker;
way,-and who has not hookeda minnow here

at. .

“Yes, I shallcnjoy taking that fellom‘liown
ea. peg or two. I can’t standl his airs; neither-
for- that matter can Old Crusty, though: the
fellow is made of gold I do believe ;; which
shows that afterall our, coloneli has some sense
in him, if he’d let it get an; airing now and
them”. ...With which complimentary speech I
smuﬁered my. basket; and Hugh having‘al»
readyf‘gdt’his traps together, we set out on our
way back to town.

I went into Melton’s room: on our return to
barracks, and while he was; washing out his
brushes and palette, settling his paint-box, and
otherwise ﬁddling aboutmlike the oldbachelor I
always teld him he would lee-+11 amused. myself
looking over a portfolio of‘sketcheszyvhichestood
on a chair by the window. They were most of
them views of places where we had been sta-
tioned lately, and I knew by a cross in thecor—
ner of many of them that, Hugh had copied
them for sale ; for, as Isaid before, Melton ekcd
out his scantypay by the produce of hisart, as
he was wontproudly and fondly to call. it. At
last I, came to» a more ﬁnished picture, which
riveted my attention for 501316 time; so thatI did
not observe Hugh, who came quietly up behind
me, and looked over my shoulder for a little
while without speaking. It was a portrait of a
young girl that had so taken my fancy, and
underneath was. written in dear old. Hugh’s
handwriting, “ Fats ce que dais ad‘viemze que
paurra.” The face itself was Very pretty. with
anexpression half earnest, half laughing, eat
 in the smile, and a very malin twmkle
in thee e. To crown all, the head was eur—
rounde by a perfect halo of deep golden hair,
not in any way approaching to red, but ure
sunny golden, with a dash of browninthe s -
owe. .

 have said, Melton came and looked over
my chowder, without mybeing aware or his ap-
-. ; so that I was rather startled when I
i L voice“ beside me saying, “ Did you
  that before. What do you think of
1 ; V . "., 

  a '  v rm," Idanglweredhnml‘ell

AW. . ,, £3181 can W 33°“ ’93:?-
  sag‘e, motto to so fascinating
’ 

‘z  he ever so slightly as he
W ugh at me for what you

 
duty; you , will per-

,Tiihosbe to
{tell you‘I owe those

senate-her.“  ,
 “  never have guessed i ,” I replied ;
titheifac‘ejloqks mirthful rather than serious.
 came she ‘ such methodisticalo inions I”
“5*“1'don’t ° tellingyou allgbout 1t, Cairns-
fo‘rd, though I would not tell. every one; but
 is, how I became acquainted with her, and
hpw she came to give me advice. A. good many
years ago now, soon after I ﬁrst joined, I was
quartered near M—-——, in Ireland, and as there
were never many oﬁlcers in that part at a time,
the few who did go there were entertained very
hospitany and made much of. There was in
particular one gentleman, a Mr. Meares, who
lived in a smallplace near M—-——; he had one
daughter, this girl whose portrait you see here.”

“ What,” I exclaimed, interrupting—him, “ is
that Miss Meares the heiress, of whom I have
heard so much ‘1’" q

“ Yes,” he answered. “ At that time they
were poor enough: since then, however, 'she has
comeinto a large property, and is due of the

 
r; m?  J iples and strict adherenee'to,

 
0..

,xher hand at meeting and

1%,  inclined fora mm =
 “:Upon thisl spoke. .
‘5, “ﬂatware never inclined to walk out now,
" Wot sketch either, even those views which are
_‘ close to the'honse? Have I done anything to

HUGH MRLTON.

 
irichest heiresses in England. However, as I was
saying, at that time they lived near M—~——-,

‘ and I was a frequent visitor at her father’s

house. I need hardly tell you the owner of
that face was clever, original, and spirited,
without being in the least fast; she could dance

’ and ride quite as perfectly as most Irish girls

dowsome, indeed, thought she excelled most of
them in those accomplishments—and besides
many other talents possessed no mean sklll
with her pencil. You may imaginethat I, then
;y0ung and impressionable, easily fell under the
spell of her beauty and accomplishments; I

. spent almost my whole tune at Belvoir (their

place), and her mother, a charming, handsome
woman, seemed to see no harm in our intimacy.
Day by day We went out sketching about the
Place. never going farpfrom the house, but as
'the scene around was lovely, always ﬁndin
plenty to 35;. I, though acting as instructor on
‘these occasions, often found myself hard put to
:it to equal my pupil’s productions; and from
A day to ,day her winning, sprightly ways and
clever, amusing conversation made me more
and more deeply in love with her. For her
society, and in order that I might sit near her
and watch her, and for the hope of touching
arting, I now
"neglected everything; my duties were shirked

r whenever I could prevail on any one to under-

take them, and my art, of which before I had
been a devoted student, was now entirely
thrown aside, except during the sketching ex-
peditions I have spoken of. Once or.twice in

U that happy time I found Miss Meares looking at

me with a, curious, half-puzzled, half-anxious
expression, ahd I. wondered what brought so

V. troubled a look to her sunny face, half-hoping

and half-fearing I must be the cause of it.
Happiness such as I then enjoyed was, how-
ever, too great to last, and for some days I saw
the cloud approaching, which waste blot out all
the fair dreams Ihad woven for myself during
those long bright summer days.‘ Latterly Maud
-—for I had began to dare to call her so in my
own thoughts—had appeared sad and dis—
heartened, rousing herself with an evident
eifort to laugh at the merry sallies I now and
then made in the vain hope of dispelling her
melancholy. I was pained at this, as I always

~ was pained by anything that caused her sorrow;

and as her-manner toward me hadatinge of
mournful tenderness in it, I determined to take
some, and speak the decisive words that
sh settle at once the position we~must in
future occupy toward each other. ‘ ‘
“It was one ﬁne bright morning, when, as
' usual, I had come over armed with my sketch-
,ins assume ,.
For some little tune she had appeared to avoid
excursions, once so pleasant to both of
and that day, whenlcune toward her in the
shouldwith the gentle, Mons-mile

‘ garden.
 which 6! late Ihad Been  oil-her radiant

'rm,f1don't think Icon Milo-day; Idon‘t

‘Why an: I said,

anncyNyou ? You are so changed to me lately.’

 °z~indeesiﬁ she lied. earnestly. ‘you
have never annoyed me ; and then she turned
to).  handlebar, and began cutting off
the withered ‘ leaveaand putting them into a
basket that hung onher arm. ‘

“ ‘If I have not annoyed you, why, then, are
' ou soaltcred of late ? ’ persisted. “You don’t

my what pain the least  in your voice
and look causes me. I will; not; bear it any
longer  will speak and tellygu‘? '

“ ‘ Hush l V’ she said, turning round (so as to

i ‘ face me, while holding up her hand with a warn-

mg gesture—o‘hushl I know what you are go,
ing to say, Don’t think me unwomanly or for-
ward because I tell you before you speak that I
know what you intended to say. For some days
Z'I'have seen that it must come to this, and I have
. been turning over'in my mind how I could, best
spare you the pain of saying~myself the pain

 of listening tam—what will do neither of us any

800d: Md must cause us trouble and grief.

I eame'to Athinresolution.

 
Stay,’ she continued, with a pretty imperious

gesture, as I was about to interrupt her eagerly,
‘ you must hear me to the end patiently : I
won’t keep you long. I think the best thing for
both of us will be for you to know a little more
of my past life than you at present do. It is
——here she paused for a moment, and I thought
a tinge of color crept into her pale cheeks; but
with an effort she after a minute tossed her head
with a pretty impatience I had often admired,
and went on —‘ it is this: Years ago, when I
was a very little child, an old friend of my fa-
ther’s died, and on opening his will it was found
that he had bequeathed the whole of his im-
mense property tome when I should have at-
tained the age of twenty-one years, on condi-
tion I should marry a nephew of his, a Mr.
Cameron by name; until then the property 18
rigidly tied up, not a penny being spent on me,
but everything being allowed to accumulate.
About a week ago my father told me this Mr.
Cameron, who has until lately been out with his
regiment in India, is on his way home to claim
the fulﬁllment of the compact entered into years
ago by his father and mine. I shall‘be twenty-
one in a few weeks now, and my father, who
has long been obliged to live ' in great poverty
to provide me witha good education and those
few comforts which our, means afford, is now
naturally anxious‘to enter on the enjoyment of,
this fortune, and insists on giving this young
man such a promise as shall insure our posses-
sion of the property, though it will not be neces~
sary for me to many at once. I can now only
beg of'you, Mr. Melton, not to judge hardly of
me fOrh8Vng in this matter taken the initiative,
and overstepped these boundaries of reserve
usually observed by women ; my only excuse is
thg: I hoped to save you pain.’ ' .

‘ But,’ said I, when he had ﬁnished speak-
ing, ‘do you consider this fortune worth more
than the love I have to offer you? You guessed
aright what I had to say. I do love you ; but if
you prefer a miser‘s goldto the earnest, faithful
affection I’fccl for you, then I would not utter
one word to induce you to alter your choice, for
in that case you are not worthy to be my wife,
or to take the ﬁrst place by right in my heart,
which on have already usurped there.’ I spoke
deﬁant y and bitterly, for it seemed to me from
the ﬁrm, decisive way in which she s oke that
she had made her choice, and, that 10 ng me as
much as her cold heart could, she yet preferred
the gold. , ‘ .

'“She answered faintly, ‘Sit down; I want
to tall: this over with you. I have no one to
whom I can go for counsel :. my father and

mother both have ,but one opinion ‘onthe mat

lot; now I  hearyours, and hyto‘decldebe—
tween them. My earnest desire is to dowhat is

118, right ; but now I don’t see the right. I am like

apsrson wanderln in astra e placein thick
darhiess—Iseen ;and
'yhandsforsomethlngtoleanon, I ﬁndonly
erupt ." ' -
. .“t ,w  you, hesitate a minute? I an-
swered, boldly and hotly, thinking I was sure of
victory, and pressing on with an eagerness that
pox-ha caused my failure. ‘ Isiit not your
duty '_ you love me, and knowing 'I love you,
to 've up everything for thesake' of completing
ouglﬁning myllfe, aswell asinsurlnghappiness
to your own? , Plainly your ﬁrst duty is to the
man you love.’ ‘ ‘ ~

“ " Yes. if he was my humid," she mm

swered'; ' but until 'then'all [my duty lies to my
parents, andtheir commands are strong on me;
besides, I could not marry without their consent.
Yes? she added, with a dreamy far—of! look, ‘ I
see my duty nowgthey have sacriﬁced them-
selvesfor-me while I was helpless and they were
strong; it is my turn to sacriﬁce myself for
them ngwthat they are getting old and want
the, comforts thcy' have ‘.denied themselves
hitherto. ' And you too,’she cOntinued, turning
and looking at me, with a kind of enthusiasm
lighting up her face-J you too. have same ob-
ject’ in life, some dutyto perform, other than
spending your: days in, careless enjoyment.

[Withyou‘r talenteiyOu‘ might be famous, and

confers beneﬁt on your fellown'men; and yet
how little you have achieved! See, I will con»

enIsh'etohout'

there was one horse in e
Judges declared must win, if only hisabomina. I

 
fer a greater boon on you than if I had granted
your request: take for your guide through life
my motto, liais ce que dots adm’enne qua pourra.’

“‘I will take no advice from you,’ I an-
swered, angrily. ' ‘ You yourself deliberately
disobey your ﬁne precept‘; you have determined
to sell yourself for gold; for you love me—
you know you do.’ Then, as anger and grief
mastered me, I went on boldly and madly,
‘Only say you love me, and that you would
marry me if you could; it will be some pom
comfort for me to take with me into my banish—
ment.’

“She opened her mouth to speak, and I.
leaned forward, listening breathlessly for the
avowal my heart told me would follow; but
after an instant she shook her head, and said,
‘ You would, indeed, have cause to reproach men
for net keeping my precept if I answered you.
It is precisely because I ought not that I will
not reply to your question. How shoul I be
actin , toward Mr. Cameron, whose promised
wife am, if I spoke with you any more on this
subject?‘ Good-by, Mr. Melton; Some time,
when you . have ceased to regret this-wand on
will soon do so, for you are still y -- en
you may come and see me, and washed bather
good friends I would wish~ us tojbe‘; but until
you feel you can regard me in that light it
w0uld be better we. should not meet a ’ .’
She held out her hand to me, but I, mad sued
by jealousy and disappointed love, bowed
coldly to her and turned away. At this insult
I saw, as I turned slowly from her, her large
eyes ﬁlled with tears, and a pitiful pleading ex-
pression came into her face' as, she made one
step toward me. ijould have turned again,
but before I could do so she had run quickly
away, and was already disappearing among‘the
thick shrubberies surrounding the house.

» “ Long afterward, when I could think calmly
over the whole affair, I began to see, that, per.

haps, looked at from. her point of view she had ’

been more in the right than I h" at ﬁrst
thought; and it was then I painted that picture
with the motto underneath, and that motto I
have ever since tried to fellow as my guide. I
fear I follow it but badly; but, as she said then
one so often ﬁnds it diﬂlcult to know the

right. A faint glimmer of light, however, there '

generally is, which guides one in some degree,

and for the rest the. will must make up for the ,_

deed.”

1

 
Soutime afterthis warmers orderedtohead- 1

quarters at Aldershot, andfound there: Gap-
tainﬂameron, whohad lately ' ‘andwho
took care soon to let us know
theheiress, was his
hadnotheard Eu hs stbryIIhould
likedthis man, w
in ca, but seemed
his mind. Alittlc fair
yellow '97th and
son, always neatly . ._ ,
path-apabut  res—
sionmhislightblueeycavloﬂenw how
Hugh felt toward-him, who sat ﬂowering at

equally. oontempti—

man, with scan

match, and . -
; not

him from under his bent.  table ‘

at mess ,; but indeedlneed not have

u

for venom  visible
ou“Mhm-mneodr.my-aprmoam words,

lug fellow, -» Hugh Melton " (as he called him),
bore him no good-will. ‘

got up were to come off; and " bout the
whole camp nothing was talked of but the mar.
its ofthe respective horses and 'itheir riders.
specialirthat all the

his temper could be

kept under, or got rid of
for the day;

0

the lei-Vice could master him it was
mg “light weight.”
Every one who has once seen Templeton

. .

 new  very soon. became aware
that-forearm reason or other “that darkdook. ;

. The tune now drew ~
near when some steeple-Chases which we had ‘

' but even his greatest admirers f
were afraid to trust their money on so ill-.tem- '
per-eds brute. Templeton of “ours” was to ,
“deﬁlm: and in this fact lay the consolation "
to his backers, for they thought if on man in. *

that dash- -

lﬁssMeares, ‘
promised' bride. Evenifl‘
handic- ;
wasnotonlyinligniﬁoanti

  
T w iﬂmtirribééaﬁabimlﬁs’ _
  "ineubaswma- W W “‘1‘” “he” '
-  Seamﬁdaer-s’ﬂ 

I I, 
p ,,  '1

I:  i  'v

/ ' goitthuft '

‘  emmn,  V I y , , N , V ' ,..' ,4» . ., b t W

* " v ' etrable amor :01 “BR-0°13 9“, ,lnclme‘ilo ﬂunk 1t,“ “WWI Page“, u- . ,
iﬁiﬁhﬁlltﬁﬁ “No; physical beams: is, “email ‘0 at“ “ﬁlminh “n Vb? 6mg

, ' .. . . ’ at, e 1 m , now im orou . _ '4 .
i V911 enough m “9 “y'b‘” mm lisp 9‘ “'1 came down3 toy oﬂer my services.” said

 
' “outer there sometime ago, and the "say that he
' intends {cask permission to ti 0 the horse
H himself-isomer than let him be scratched.” ‘

v

' véﬁs‘wofmferdd . , , ,
mine,  ,erwsemueh on themes? her but -
v  arm i

4

H U G}! MEL TON.

 
tinglka on his chestnut thorough-bred, his” into foolhardiness and wellness. Now if Cam-  Hugli, laughing; but it seems you, have 
hands well down end his head up, ’ riding in crouhad a degree of moral courage at all appor- V‘ [linear-ms (6e ricncsscs in the way 'Of riders DOV;
the ﬁrst «flight _W1th7the \wahleyiﬂol', butter tioned to his physical bravery, he would .re— , so perhaps "~~--~ '

still, ﬂying elongin the front at the Grand.
Military, will recollect ,.,him : , a swam/spare,
boyishalookingxyo'uhg: fellOw, with pale, inir
complexion, large, prominent blue eyes, droop—
ing. mustache; and a. nwadznirari expression
otcountennnc‘e. But to these of, my lady
friends whb may not have seen; him-intlns favor;
ite careerylet me recall the some» slight ﬁgure
leaning languidly against the wall in a ball-
room, looking so intensely bored; that you are
reminded’of unwieath’mheud-stje feast, and
long to eskzhim why became there. when the
festive Scene seems so little to his taste. You
, must have seen and pitied him, gentle reader;
recall himto. your mind‘seye :now, and, have
before youths 1intended. ruler of Spitfireiso
thehou‘sewu called). I ,1 , r _ _‘ ,
Cameron, ,who, by-the-woy, hardly, knew a
horse‘frmnncow, laudapot of money on hip: ;
$0 hotlﬁouthmnn and one or‘turolmcre.
.ﬁidn’t like his temper,” and so backed Jack
,Mostermem the second, favorite, for a. small
sum. Thencewosto'comeo on Wednesday,
the 2350f July; but on the day before, as
ﬁre into neeé,.,1' observed an unusual ex-
r 'citémeﬁt  ,Bouthmsn's ,'geherally stohd face,
and on locking ro nd'vperceived that Cameron,
' Templeton,  emmings, the owner of Spit-
ﬂowered! ubseﬁl’ig ’_ I ’ ’
‘,‘ What‘s up???  inquired of Percy Lungham,
who-shthéxt 111293,. » i , _ I '_ '
“Why, haven't you heard ? That idiot Tem—
pleton has gone and sprained. his wrist with
more confounded nestles he was always
‘ botherin" about, in “so Spitﬁre must either be
' scratch ‘ ‘ arcane onefels‘e must be got to ride
, him. Elie "do shy’thst Cameron has nearly
gone onto his ‘mmd' since he heard of Tem-
' 'plotcxi’s accident: and Ihear he will be ruined
if‘thut'horse doesn’t  He has gone now
‘ to theifshibles' w‘ ﬁnd ‘Hemmings, who went

I “ But-Wh]? f Wouldn?t it be much better for
‘him‘lf‘the {'mei withdrawn? He could
mechanic'wa book,‘or'he needn’t make
 .m, (a, 4 , r  .

 there insttliz‘é‘pith of the whole thing,
I believe “he’s dipped tremendously, and [the

,, Jews are down on him; so that if he doesn’t
land something now, he goes to the wall en,-

'. ﬁtiieiyir :‘ :ﬁsc‘dolris “notﬁmnking another, book, ,;

himself secure on- thut

toughen-,gteosusted
mu this,inmmmmgmthsrsthsriolwei
 Bygitihezdlggﬁmfﬁi ellxrfazlmistbe,
 andcﬂouthmmelmuem ; en mar, 
a:,,vireem,égn$£ugh,whoswss,cotheologians,
mated, , had bewrtistenies'atteeysdyg
 :. unconscious Lossesymmd, hé
immune: *' a  

. J *1 new #331,“,
' ﬂ‘oéli-shughoé ' ‘


Hmwﬁw  .f'ui V; : ‘ w I - (r
  shim" " ism insist A

"2 mhm'wétb  dinner; ,but, ;&9§& .
 pestlel $513“: “Emilia: 91.195

 
swirls-ear; “millionaires, a,
skillet; .zl’m» as  s rider

«r-

:émnla? 2‘

rw-m ,mch again; I wouldn’t ride-then

. 53),??-  y,>,v-:-‘, :  I . .A, 

, ‘-“thotrs:t t.;his,physics1 courage is of a.

higher orderitlmu yours, we won’t resume to
' moral. r qualities: uthinan,

, laughing quietly. He was a

I , fellow who had not long, Joined,'umver-
 for his sex good humor, but a most
inveterate dealer in chat: and buggege, neither
 ‘, 3s v me, i is gay , :es. _ I,
' nor ‘03 e p safely from, all rcoyert

,  bﬂrravn
.. u’aseteierzesmr -»

Gm ;th?7M ionic/mt heart mg;
' e

1130‘ that it would be much better to bear n. 3
little dunningr from the Jews, or, even though i
that is a disagreeable alternative, to be white- ‘
washed, rather than run the risk of breaking 3
his neck.” / , , w ‘ ‘ p

“ But suppose he was to be whitewashed out
of his rich future’s recollection," said Longhorn,
inquiringly. l~ . I L

“ Ah, there now is a' case that requires judg,
ment, ,That is just a situation in ‘whiCh I;
could show .to advantage; I would, show you
how to steer through those, difﬁculties in a.
manner that’ would astonish Jon," answered
Southmang- ,,  f  

“Gentlemen,” said the colonel, who ati'the
head of ' the table was, beginning 'to look rather
electriﬁed at Southxnau’s philosophical tum of
m'nd, “ suppose we go out and smoke a cigar;
you can resume this interesting discussion at aifu-
ture period.” - ‘ T' " ' ,

We all rose and dispersedin diﬁerent fdix'fec-
tions, I lighting a cigar, and intending to :go
out for a quiet, stroll, to thiuk'p‘ver some fam.
ily news I had that day‘received.» I lied 
gone for, however, before Ivhesrd Hugh‘s voice
calling sitar me, S‘Stop, Cainisford; why are
you in 'such a hurry? IWant you to walk
with me.” '

I turned, and as he came up I noticed a. sin-
gularly white-set look in his face ; the strai’ ht
dark brows overhung gloomy, unfathomu in
eyes, in which a kind of restless, troubled 100k
gleamed at intervals, and the ﬁrm, determined
mouth expressed even more than its ordinary
share of indomitable will, , i . _ .,

“Come with me to ﬁnd Hemmingls,
good fellow, 'Churlie,_”,said he, as e
end took my arm, ‘ , i ,

“What,” I exclaimed, [‘3‘ you surely don’t
mean that you urej'going to olfer to ride
brute Spitﬁre! "That’s to save» that fellowo .
eron the full he so richlyfdeserves,,1'll lay any-6

“in, comedic," uncouth, in a.hur-.
ried, troubled-(mannern‘ixbudse , new howl
felt wh'en,-Sduthinauwastalkingiobout it~ at din}
116,13» '. I',wus'[,tehi.pted sorely then; something,’
keptwhi‘spémpg; tome, {Leave him, elections,
letmm,b,e;in,11ed.snce hegéhooﬁestoiun the .
risk ;‘ it’s some: your business y’aud‘when he’s,
out of the wafthereillbe nothingbet’ween you“
and'MaudJ, t‘wﬁsjdreadml. gentle; 316. yum
on. grew‘7 " ' ‘mw9w11ite ﬁnd Vern-golﬁng. as
, e r" "  one who; er . net .

   
husmeiifwsmttyms he, :

 incineration
it:

there’s s.
came up

,.

vii-i

 
..  

 93,5”? M 1 WW 9 ,e .. u ,

mustyyizeuﬁesms “how on

nuisance legitimately;  , t9

run the "risk of ‘ Ving‘y‘ou "heck  y 
, . ' m ." a .3 '

u‘ 3,!V ~
gird,

   
"owe é. uh in the ‘9 ' e’meﬁéﬁ‘tﬁ ‘  
is   ’Miﬁéusgdie; uhééiwl‘emﬁes.
‘Surelybé',his"'znnrderer ' ss‘if,  conﬁnes,

l ﬁbril? ‘48“;
, refers net-’1? egvtof r, , . 13,2531,”
:33; ’iihavex .one..it- are setup“? ﬁn.
  : '~ « 5-x , 3": ' . - s ,

,I, new;.,he was? detérmin’e‘d, so said nothing
moté,1biu‘jw red; dQWn to the. stables; where
the much-ts, edéof steed Was" st 13th stay-
We ” There we found Captain psgnerpn in
close consultation with Hemminge, Withwhom
Hugh immedist‘el opened the conversation.

“This lea b business about Templeton,
Hammings ', howldoyou intend to manage about
‘thehorse?’7 v,‘ j M ' . ‘

“I, hardly know,” answered Hemmmgs.

“ Cameron hero wishes to ride him; but I am

 
«erly balanced

n

“'19,. :, l, .

by moral courage it degenerates ’

 
; finest Mushroom i No W"
allngh felts

r shilling 
a “known  ,

‘, , he as-pfﬁiwﬁﬁﬁm
l , , e

wisest? lemme?

.hninrne

'. ‘ ' .Well, if you really feel inclined to undertake
riding him," interrupted Hemmings, quickly, “I
think you, wouldbe‘about the most likely person
I could meet with. I remember seeing you

out in the Quorn country once or twice on u
very ugly brute of a horse, that would have
liroiightmost people to grief; so that if any
one butrTe'in eton can make anything of “Spit-
lire, you are hevmen."  ' , ‘
“,Will you reall ride ' him, Melton ?" asked
Cameron. ‘ “That s'most kind of you. Ihi‘we
o grcat‘desl on him, and it would have put me
out dreadfully if he‘hsd been scratched. When
do you intend to try him i"  '
“Well, it is rather late nowm'tibout half-past
eight, I should thinlﬁx still, if you don’t mind,
Heinmings, I'll take: im out now and see how
he goes with me. fYO‘ll can come, too, if you
like, Gumeron. I know a. nice,- retired spot,
where‘wé can get a good allop without being
observed,”,ansivered Hug ,; “end you, Cairns-
fo’rd, twin”- out‘Jocel n, far I may want on to
ive me a eodover t 19 ﬁrst ferries. I An y inow
et‘s locket thepanimal. I  went him misad-
dled and bridled' differently iron: the usual
way when I know’whsét his trickssrei” '5
Hugh’s spirits seemed to have risen as soon
as his perilous offer had been“ swepted, and I
could not help thinking: that, though imthe
ﬁrst instance duty had made him volunteer,
yet new the excitement of approaching don er
was beginning to exert its inﬂuence on is
spirit, andhe would not have backed out of
the scm eif he. could. We now entered the
stable w more this redoubtoble animal was to be
seen. There he was in a. .commodious, loose
box; and in truth, though knowing what I did
of him, I could" hardly restrain myself from
echoing’Hugh’s cry of delight. He was a mag-
niﬁcent. liver-colored chestnut, with tummy
mane and'tail, small, bloodalike head, a. broad
forehead 'cdnspicnouslyg'marked by a. large
white stinxfmll; clean; wild eyes, with a. wicked
roll : in them large, wide-open nostrils, ;;gnd
longy rooﬂess ear-3.. Altogether, his face was a

picture; beautiful to look ’st, but-promising

 times tOJ‘hiB .:adv.entnmus rides; rﬂdsli: to
this olide ﬁne and ﬂight Where; it :joinodothe
head, that swelling-winto a} massive ,crestgnd
rimming into aipqwertul I slopinsu'shonleer. »
bread, ovnl~hmclaqueners of: immense,» .ser;
s; magniﬁcently; developed chest»;  ,3 ﬂat.
sinewy legs insteth the. equpﬂmilgetehe
(mile; Qumemn

:1 o' 

 i of

 ,3 _ to
, 3H,: .

, 1.3

  
r riwq;

itlii‘igil steel ishtsai Vibes
  
the
ﬁsher; To; 5“

is
omens .
.~ ﬁlters so

  
1‘ ,
3 '1:
’90
3Q.

 
for;  

rear Mien; ,. ,  1
removed, over ins  ‘h,

c ,

.. vi-X' 43 :v ‘ , .,s,

i‘ Tue  ,ceglu

 x 

It to??? run;  “Io

‘ u'i,,ur.om‘eaeélfte ex- '

. western:  "r «ﬁniteness

1w we ﬂat); "a.  A"  {‘2;  ,,..
 ,hat,,' IOIO , f 
T "when,  inﬁll? e8

1 6
“it

theian :

8‘ We on i‘drk‘efd ltemléeo’eiré’wi‘fpﬁlls 111. ., a a
300d un “when he: geisha, ’Spirif HF,
.tinieslhis mouth fi'sjtoo"fine,-  91,:
'o'f’it, sir : if ‘youjmll' him hé’llfrggr,‘

 at
‘1} .6
) ‘ end fell

a
u

1i

 
ate 3 of you, as mire‘nsieggs‘f is   it. he
pul s you,‘nnd you‘can’t in I dwﬂo “him ‘
some way, he’ll-take you  he‘c oases
to go, and that’s masthke tojbé the shortest
way home.” ' » I ‘ - r ‘ ‘ 1

“Ah, very likelyufsnswered ‘Hugh; “but I.
don’t intend- to let him get his own way. I.
shall try a plan ‘0! my ownyith him.” :7:

He then proceeded to give his own dime.
tions for the bridling of this formidablemonnt.

"--Ndw,”'heieaid, when he had-‘ﬁniuheﬂihis
instructions. “we'll see howzhe will: work in
thsttaekle." -r g1 i - '~ ..; .c. v,
f “ Well," said Hemmings. When he had done

 
speéking,’ “.‘I‘think you intend to .breskryour

 
V   threatens en

 
new: , MELTON.

t _ ‘ 5

 
neck. Melton ; I hardly like to let you ride
him in that gear." . r _ ' 

I; «Make» yourself easy; my dear fellow," an-
meme Hugh ;- "Erode {onelike him before,
who lied: puzzled e‘gmd many 0 lo. I found
my plan perfectly successful With ough Diu-
m‘ond, the‘ho‘r'so you saw (me riding in the
Qnom mimicry! and I can et least try it on this
one, who seems to’ have a similar temper."

This explanation satisﬁed Hemmings, and a
few minutes after,» our horses having appeared
and 8 iitﬁre being’now rendy, we mounted and
net 0 along the ondon road. When we had
ridden two c:- three miles ontof‘ camp. Hugh
‘pelnbod' out to me a low hedge tothe left-hand
side of the rdod; I I '- r

1“ New," snid‘he, “over with you; We’ll go
' throng-h theee‘ ﬁelds, leave that farm-house to
the righblianzl side, and then we crime to e.
“P19111141 range of pasture land, up to the top
of. the hill yonder. Are you ready? ” '

“I went at the fence, aM»Jo%lyn,“n grand old
hunter, who, if all the'horses in England were
bslking round him, would not mind them,
went over celml , knowing full well thet‘there
Were no boom 3 out any where near, and
therefore it was not Worth his while to, get ex-
cited. Once over; I turned: to Watch Hugh,
who‘rputSpitﬁre straight at it, intending to
follower It was no use, lioWever; cs he neared
it theilletempered brute wheeled round short,
and on Hugh’s trying to turn him at it again,
begene violentbattle, in which, however, the
ﬁghting woe all on his side, Hugh remaining-
perfectly quiescent, it being above all a dis—
tinguishing feature of his riding that he never
leet his temper, no matter howtroublesome
" his mount might be. ‘ T 

- "At fit you, Cameron,” Melton called out, ,

turninggnweyend leaving monitor the other
to-‘pcse himtv“ he “may be more inclined to
follOw when you are over." i w _ ‘ -

' ' Cameron mares he was 1:01:71" ;‘ but I fearfrom
the sample he gave us; of his riding he"\voul.l‘
have linden poor‘cli‘enc'e‘on thc‘chestnut‘;’ as it

‘ Was, he barely, kept his sent, and was no soon- V

e over-time he, asked me to change horses
with him, alleging that the one he was on was
oivnew purchase and not to his taste; he wish-
edrme to try! it and give an, opinion on it. For
nearly half e'niho‘ur the sulky beast of a chest—
nut kept us waiting; but at last, ﬁnding there
Woe no cliches Of his one «nting or tiring out
hisrileyhe took the hedge in splendid style
and all three clearing in together we set oﬂ‘ for
V the hill. The; next _ fence, he took caoitnlly’,
imminent midllebet‘ween our two“ iorsee ;
' I, in: the one after I began to think might" prove
o puriﬁer, and felt rather nn'xions when we
drewfneor‘it. ,When, we were quite close to'it.
however, Spitﬁre detentiorward a little; and,

r ‘ forgetful of} allhigforsnor; bod temper, took it
splendidly ; his rider, then keeping him in a _

.uietccnter,‘ continued up the hill. ,
‘,..“,Well ,donel’ll'. excliik‘ianed as I came up;
“,It' hewgoes as Well  the race, he ie safe to
 ,, hat do on ea'yfj Melton ?” I ,
 if‘l'think he’l go,,’f , 13 answered. “I don’t
reney‘ruhave enytr‘oubleif ; I can make him,
 the ﬁrsti‘ence well ;’ in order to do that I
' outfit” retention. hi’mto obey me :‘end so I think

i ’  zir’yoe our Goiner’on'wo’dld return home '1; wll

, ,yehinyetitete{schooling- client here for an
‘ seer or no : by thettimol shall be able to tell
, youwhere topnt yum money." ‘   r" 
’ :rfﬂnm’érgﬁgf gjjently pleased, at Hugh's wonder?
nil, gamete; recoil 1’ mantel to, ' this weasel;
and we rode on I ,togegtliet.;;,'1did not}:
mmpaniongfthongh; “stamens wne‘in one 'of
11113 'pleeennt moods; 13nd}, eweynb’out his,

vats sﬁerrertelimg motor ow; much hewa‘e

Slimmer: ﬁfthe‘ sweeten Wineries-r ' “he!

 
the, care of 3 his " memento es 1 firthth there; '

r we iteration whether/“lien” ~

. ,

  
.3313"? ._ 'Wﬁlian,
' , retitlieiinenn'erlin‘whichtoineEoftiheaehtefhed
; owner: eel} rule out; dehemiﬁg‘nelf-,
one, dietznetingml ’ onetizeoem
 "helssm‘ \- ‘ilering new on homeowner;
new fr worm is; we beﬁo‘ttmétom” 

:  ﬁrm,  :1 one more endowment-m, ;
s to the conclusion. the more I, thought on sore

ﬁltqu death. if ind ,
killing himself in the race, which I permitted

Charlie; I’m too done up. to

may" pry"

 
M.“ m i  
‘mu 9. like

‘ ~ emittinmeh m: We meme

mere fancy of his own. as, not to. charge ‘Miss
moreswit anything worse. I was sure she
would not feeluny doe ri-e'f at hearing of' be:
o had succeeded in

myselfto doubt, for'the reason that “ he that’s

"born torbe‘," etc.‘-you know the method will,

I am sure, agree with me when you‘ have a.
closer acquaintance with the individual in
question. . . _
At ten o'clock Hugh came in ; it was still that
soft perfumed twilight of the height of summer,
and there was light enough for, me to see his
face, on looking at which I was not surpmcd to
ﬁnd he was fearftu tired. ‘
“Well,” he said, throwing r' self into an
arm-chair, “I had 9. dreadful scene after you
left; but I faneyl have conquered him at lost.
If I had staid there yell night I should hare
done so before I would let him'go home with-
out doing what'I wanted; he wished to follow
you back to camp; r. Give .me a. glass of beer,
speak . tilltI- have
restored exhausted nature. " ' ,  \
I, gave him what "he askedrfor, and then he
described to me the terrible battle,;wherea the
ﬁghting was all on one side, through which he
had. passed; ending by saying : e .
' “ And now, Charlie, if you have anymoney

,to spare, putit, all on him ;. for I think when I

have given him one or two more lessons I shall

be ableito make himedo as I like, and there is

nothing that can'bent him in Aldershot.” ' '
The day of the stee ,le chase at last came,
and I, being One'of e stewards, went over
early, and round the course to see that every-
thing wae no it‘ShOuld be.  We'had put‘up some
very good jumps; V one good wet ditch; a; stone
wellvthet, though-nothing to an Irishman, I
fancy many in comp would not have ‘liked to

negotiate ;' one or two fences of the kind 'thcyf'
coll double ditchee'm the sister“ isle, and some
ﬂights of stout oX-palings. Altogether it was

a course demanding pluck » and good riding,
though I camncthingthiit a good horse, prop-
erlyzhaudled, could not-get ovizr safely ; indeed,
the committee‘hdd expressly desired that ‘noth‘
ing" of “ a. break—neck character should be at-
teniptml. Hugh looked very well in green and
silver, and doubtless many an admiring glance
was cast o1: him by the fair denizens of the grand
stand; but he never seemed to look that way,

.or to’notic 3' the pretty fecee and brilliant toilets

which it displayed. Not so Gerald Courtown,
the ridernof Jack Masterman; that dandy en-
sign: in ,bisfecnrlete jack attormed a conspicuous
obj ml: among tho'throng, and might be seen

improving the few minutes loft before . mount
ing in ﬂirtingifrom'on‘e‘ bevy of beautiee tor-the

other, receiving with evident delight en in»
mense amount of chad and complimentary
badinege.. Then there was Powell, Pin» black

nil orange, rider of" The 'O’Donoghue, a '

horse that mightwith good riding become an

awkward opponent for either] of the termites;
though for some reason or other the fpubliched

not fonciedbim. Geod ridinghe wesisure to get,

not the-bends of Powell of the 2d, who was heart
\ andeoul wrapped up in horeeﬁesh,and who made

it his  belied never yet “met the woman

he wouldcere to look reund at,” He now: stood

meodilyfwetehing the  as theyovere' led
hp. and doWo‘clothedfrom head to foot, waiting

I forgithe oaddli’ng bonito ring. Now-rand then
he would begin anexmte’d eulogy of his mount,
ThemO’Donoghue, to any  acquaint:

anceewhdvierennwory enoughsto venture near
him ; but Howling  well avoided him
at such times, as he twee impoteible to get rider
whenonce.’ lotion his favoritetopic. , r
 Beresgord‘ot the Blues, donning 
(inﬁll-Woo“ pony phoeton, in wﬁohﬁdthidy
Blanche, Vaughn whom itmsmwhiepemda

,Iteresfordientertained135913,,charaglwmg :, i g

 Jr, Iiiiym    V guy: #3”: 42‘4,,r'?*r:.2:s:;e
r ‘Itmedihcqeireeﬁlqithet'the‘hmee anemone
hnmnmioeroceenterthegxeno 
 We :fméoeeooe» thew 

thee ’ genie?!” . 1 as ‘
naghsreeoteeee’e’oennnstm decided ‘ by

   
entertainer  ﬁt'iheitﬁwef
His; «,2,  m “ r. . Wat.‘ my 1913, 1‘?  r 2:52;,4.

 
'aesembled beauty of the stair

-' make such an exertion.

the " frontg'; “in3 7
y 111g r etc  gt: “3: Would" V (never 3 take

 
the animal itself, I fancy. At length the sod-
dling bell rang. Beresford tore hitheelf away
from his lady-love; Gerald Courtowmwith a.
laugh and a nodbean generally'to the

_ ,’ turned toward
the paddock; Farrell’s gloomy face lighted up
for the ﬁrst time, ﬁnd the um! wild gloom
came into his eye ;' while Melton linked his arm

in mine and drew me Lewoy with him'towerd the

horses. .

Spitﬁre was looking sgiendid, there Wes‘no
doubt about that; and hardly wondered at
Hugh’s saying, in a heartfelt tone of admira—
tion- ’ ' ‘ ‘

“ Isn’t he 9. picture ? ' Isn‘t he perfect, Char.
lie? Did you ever see see so magniﬁcent an
animal‘before ?” I, " e ’  * ' 

Nevertheless, the beauty thus apostrophioed
did not look amiable, though to my cotyledon
Hugh’s approaching him and petting him,‘he
became considerably more quiet, on“ allowed
the soddling precess to proceed without my
very violent eﬂort to revent it“. At last oil'th

I

~ ready; the secondib'e rang; the riders sprang

into their seats, and .Set'off in a ﬁuiet center up
the gentle hill past the stand; ‘ rode quietly

up a little distance behind thong,“ watching, 

Hugh with admiring feyes; his] perfect, eeisy

seat, his lithe active ﬁgure, thetm'oved 
with the metion of his horse, hislhand: Well

dewn. restraining with light but ﬁrm tonich‘the ,
impetuOsityLOf‘ the owerful steed he rode;
altogether he forme , a picture" of “a perfect
horsemen, and, to my mind, out’of the twelve ’
men centering at mot’moment’up_,thev-gtcen
together, there was not one to ; compared to
him as ,_regarded the perfectionofzhisﬁding. 
Just as they passed the stand I mo‘Hegh  ,
quickly toward it and'bow. , I wanna] 
as I did not know he'hhd‘ony may one, 
Aldershot, and I wascn'th’e point cirridin‘g‘np
to try and ﬁnd 'out who she wagoheni'fémplea
ton, the-young félldw‘who Woe [to have 

Spitﬁre if he had notgsprs'ined vhiswrist at  I
‘an inconvenient time, strolled up to - me in 

usual languid way, holding Out hie uninjured.
handing though it'co'st him a powerful eﬁortto

“Morning, Ceimsfor‘d. If eny'ﬂpitﬁre‘  ~
win ;* don’t you think so? Splendid fellow  » f
Melton! Always knew he could" ride if he 
chose; though he} never’would takothe'ylooniof' 
a horse from me.’ He‘s got agheed  
keep that beast’s temper cool, if ,anyoneconp ‘-
I watched him passing up new; not  ounce
Weight resting on his month, though the  .,
was medwith impatiencemmhe’t’e the‘oeyte 
ride; he’ll give those "fellows ,e 1668011,"?!21; 7
thinking; IGoodoby; seeyon agein‘jet_lnnch- 
ooh, I suppose ?’,’, Anise, sayingytheﬁandy:
horsemen stroﬂed'quie‘tly may. '  é  
i I now moved up near the, starting-pest we r ’

 
watched the arrangements with anxious eyes; 
a few startewouldnso Icempletelyironee -
Spitﬁres temner that I doubted it even‘iﬁueh 1
would then succeedin rettin ‘enythinégeootof 
him.-; The ﬂag at longt Cfe’, ,ond'thegtwelve 
horses houndedﬁawey, together :4 to, become! 

 
‘eignt they were, the “with; thongs? 
colored ’eckets, the, horses» withth ﬁybeeufi; ‘
fully s oped:',bodiee“fglietenin “trade it 

brilliant July elm, though “clothe:de ‘ U:
sprintiﬁz ere? the elastic, urf, in" entourage 
W‘bwedss‘mﬁihe i561? “delimelewﬁenne 
straining on the bitmirnfetzénce to be  
ijss surprised eeejgetj: he‘nmt-few-“bognag v I,
that 1" Hugh _ kept 1‘ 56311315." all g the   
quietly. I imagined beimnst be raging-Lit“ U 
eview to getting eleod' eve}- the gage, _ 
bmﬁtiill  not: help 'thlzikmg‘it: - 
in’ teeﬂgethe whole ‘ﬁeldtin  "  
of in onmeneniﬁnylthee mi‘ " ea .,
Whé’f‘imﬁ"Stif‘ihei‘emnplerof? ‘ meme *1 g 
theoéit‘wfeuiote aileron}: some t g   ' eeiy  ‘
W"I‘lééeeni’mhiekone meme   ,i
fmth'ey neared the fenccfthﬂchosmiww 
to! the trout, and increasing his ,epeed  
ﬁnd-6',"th allegingzetftnexetoutt '- ‘ “ ’ (in
' estate al, the“ 1,-

 
horeeet efence withoutielee‘d if?“ Redeem  I ‘
one:mewmeeireee :

   
L vi   “

8

HUGH MELTON.

 
the result. To my surprise, however, just as
he neared the fence, the horse slackened his
racing speed into a quick steady gallop, then
rose like a bird at the post and rails, and the
next instant was sailing along evidently held
well in hand, to allow of the others coming

up. Gerald Courtown and Jack Masterman,

popped over next, followed by Powell on the
Irish horse The O’Donoughe; but Beresford,
sad to relate, cannoned against Sims of the
28th, and came to ignominious rief before
Lady Blanche's eyes. He picked imself up,
however, but his horse had picked itself up
ﬁrst, and was now galloping wildly over the
course, for some time resisting all attempts to
catch it ; so that when at last it was secured
the race was virtually over, and quite crest-
lallen his gay rider returned to the stand,
where, however, he found Lady Blanche ver
ready to heap any amount of opprobrious epl—
theta on poor Sims’s devoted head, and con-
dole with him to his heart’s content. In the
meantime the riders held on their course ; one
by one the outsiders fell off, all but one, Solace
of “Ours,” a small slight fellow riding a lithe
active Irish mare that seemed inclined to give
the favorites some trouble. She sprang over the
ground like a deer, switching her rat.tail and
ﬂourishing her hind-quarters in a way that
told as plainly as words that she was yet going
at her case, and thought nothing of what was
before her. ' A very pretty sight it was, too,
to see her at a fence, not striding over it like
our horses, but going up all together, some-
thing like a bare, and, like that animal also,
sometimes giving a half turn while in the air,
and landing almost sideways to the fence she
had jumped.

“ That one will give them some trouble,” said
Templeton, who was again beside me, and who
was now a little excited, for him. “ See, The
O’Donoghue and Fireﬂy are side .by side; watch

2 them going at that well; they jump so differ—

ently from the rest. Pretty, isn’t it ?” he added,
as they went over together.
in the front, and Templeton’s eye falling on
him, he nodded approvingly. “ That’s a clever
fellow, that Melton. How well he took the

measure of that animal’s temperl I’d hardly

 have dared myself to take him ﬁrst at that ﬁrst

 
 be the
s: dred yards of racing ground-before reaching the

 
fence, and yet I see now it, was the right thing

‘2' .1 to do; he’s a queer, nervous, irritable temper,
that gets ﬁurried and excited when he sees the

others going before him. I say, look there——
Fireﬂy, 1s creeping up to the favorite. I didn’t
believe Solace when he talked so eternall
of his mare Fireﬂy, and all she could do.
I’m beginning to think mere of her now. What
a stayer she must be! She looks as fresh
as a‘ daisy, and goes ,along whisking “her
wickeddooking tall as though it was all play to
her. ’Melton-will have some trouble with her, I
think. ' _ ’ .- ,

As Templeton ﬁnished speaking the (Itsider
and the favoritehad closed up, and were now
 neckand neck;'the next fence would
t, and then there were about six hun-


Sola‘ce’s  was greatly inferior to Mel-

1;, h ton-,8 . them was a want of handand too great

9. etc interfere with his horse’s perform-
ances that put the little Irish more at a disad-
vantage; still, to the intense astonishment of

» everyone, she not only held her ground, but
,, actually appeared to gain slightly on the show
a

horse of regiment, and Indeed one might
dyer theLsrmy—Ahe one of whom it had been

said  wouldbe impossible to beat him if
f only gadid not lose his temper. And he had
not . p '

it; on the contrary, he was goin
splendidly, literally ﬂying over the ground w
1115 glorious. stretching stride, yet never able
to shake off for an instant the wiry, lean form
that with springing, bounding action kept pace

 with 

Everyone that great crowd held-his breath

{I as they reached the last fence; the'pace was

 restful, and the keenestiudge could not have,

 ‘gucseedwhieh would win.

  
,Suddenly, .as they approached at a breathless

 “we the fence before them, a women's long

Spitﬁre was still

white cloakﬂuttered out on the ,brbeze from
the other .side of the, hedge; Fireﬂy, held
negligently by her inekperienced rider, swerved
wildly, while Spitﬁre, kept straight with a ﬁrm
yet gentle hand, ﬂew to the front, clearing the
leap in splendid style, and then laying himself
down, advanced with lightning speed to the
winning-post. It was but a moment that Fireﬂy
swerved from the track, but in that moment
Spitﬁre gained the opposite side; close on his
heels, however, the gallant mare, set right by
her excited rider, bounded over with the spring
and elasticity of a roebuck, and then stretch-
ing herself for the ﬁrst time, and letting for the
ﬁrst time her marvelous speed be seen, she ﬂew
rather than galloped after her opponent. Very
small was the advantage Spitﬁre had gained,
and with the ﬁrst two boards she reached his

3’ girths; then for the ﬁrst time Melton called

on his noble steed, that responded gamer with
every muscle exerted to the utmost. Breath-
less the crowd looked on, as the brown mare’s
head crept up to his shoulder. Was it possible?
Could he hold his own to the winning-post?
Two springs more would do it; but already
the dark head stretched beside the chestnut’s
foaming neck. Another bound, another—and
they shot past the winning-post, Melton the
winner, by about half a head, of perhaps the
closest race ever run in “ ours,” and certainly
one that astonished the judges more than any-
thing that had been seen fora long ime at
Aldershot. r '

The exitement was intense. So close was
the race that some fanciedvone the winner,
some the other; and it was not until the judge
had formally proclaimed Spitﬁre’s success that
some even of his backers could be induced to
believe in it. Afters congratulatory shake of
the hand to Melton, the winner was almost
wholly disregarded, while every one crowded
round the little brown mare that had come in
such a splendid Second, and that every one knew
well could have won so easily if it had been
ridden as the favorite had been. “

“ Why, Solace,” said Templeton, in a rather
more excited tone than his usual languid drawl,
“where in the world did you pick up that
animal, and how did you keep her so dark?
She’s a regular ﬂyer, and no mistake; but for
that shy the race was yours easily, and if you
hadtheld her well in hand you would not have
host it by that.”

“I know,” answered Solace, laughinggood-
humoredly. . “ I. don’t pretend to be a ﬁrst-rate

3' horseman like Melton; still, you know, I told

you all I had got a mare that would beat the
favorite even with my bad riding; and so she
would if it hadn’t been for a ﬂuke. I bought
her in the west of Ireland; saw her there and
liked her when I was over, ﬁshing a few months
ago, and have been trying to ride her ever since.
She’s a 11311in one and no mistake to ride when
she’s fresh.” . _

Courtown and Powell had come in close to—
gether third and fourth, ; all the others were
nowhere, and now came straggling in one by
0116, greatly disgusred, no doubt, at their po-
sition, and as much astonished as anyone else
at the unforeseen termination of themes.

While we were all looking at Fireﬂy, and
talking ov'er her splendid success, Melton stole
off; and when I again came toward the grand
stand, I was. astonished to see him standing
beside a lady, to whom he was talking with no
little earnestness and animation. A glance at
her face, however, enlightened me; it was the
original of the portrait I had admired so much
a few days ago~no less a person than Miss
Meares, the great heiress, and the promised
bride of Cameron, who also stood near, looking
with nonchalant, unconcerned e as on his be-
trothed and her companion. I ooked at her
somewhat critically as I approached, and must
own that .I was, not dis’a pointed ; she was
even rather than his skate and though she
talk with an easy, unconstrained manner
and a leasant ﬂow of conversation, yet there
seemed a mournful depth in her long violet
9 es, as she lifted them now and then to his,

 
hovel!!! to be 0 served. its to him, he

a

t tbetrBaged perhaps more than she would

an

 
seemed to forget'for the time the barrier that“,

existed between them; the excitement of the

ride had ﬂushed his cheek, and the exhilara.

tion of triumph lent a lustre to his eye that
made him look handsomer than, I, had ever
seen him look before ; while the same causes
chased away all sad remembrances, and gave
him courage and inclination to rattle on m a
continuous stream of merry chat and laughter,
as happy and light-hearted as though no plead-
ing words and passionate prayers had ever
passed his lips to her. I could not help think—
ing what a contrast he must present to her
eye with the face, ﬁgure, attitude,.manner, the
tout ensemble, of her future husband, as they
stood there side by Side, eyeing each other
gowkand then with instinctive distrust and
1s 1 e.

Cameron was in his gayest humor; he was

standing beside the acknowled ed belle of the
day, who was, besides, one of t e richest heir»
esses in England, for whose smile men were
willing to go through any amount of danger,

and to stand beside whom with the right that -

Cameron possessed, would have made more
than one heart there present throb with a rap—
ture beside which all other joys would be cold
and lifeless,
largely ; his creditors would be quieted, at
least for the time. as I don't believe that gen-
tleman ever had the least intention of liqui—
dating his debts in full ; however, he would
pay as much as would render him safe, and
that was all he wanted. .

We were having a large luncheon party that
day, and on entering the room with _some lady
friends, I found Mr. and Miss Meares were also
among the number of the guests. They eat op-
posite me, so that I had a very good opportu-
nity for observing the young lady; and the
more I saw of her the more I liked her. I felt,
indeed, as though the peculiar charm of man-
ner Melton had spoken of was exercising its in-
ﬂuence over me, and I am sure my lady friends
must have found me rather more preoccupied
than was pleasant or ﬂattering. Hugh sat on
one side of her, and I heard him say. in the
careless manner under which he sometimes hid
deep feeling, “ Do you remember some very
good advi‘te you gave me the last time I saw
you, Miss Meares ?"

The color ﬂushed a little over that clear, pale '

face of here as she answered, “ I don’t remema-

ber ever giving you any good advice ; but if I '

did I hope it has been proﬁtable to you.”

“ Yes, it was just about that I wanted to tell .
“ I have ever since tried to,

you,” he replied”
act up to it, and though in some things I think
that ‘ le jeu ne vaut pas la chandelle, still in
others it pays; for instance, you would be cur;

prised to see how I have improved in my art. '
Don’t you remember telling me I ought to have ‘

a ﬁxed object in life ? Well, I have chosen
painting for my object, and have followed it up
closely ever since.
pleased to hear what your good advice has done

for me; I hope your own practice of it has,

been equally successful.”

Again I saw the tears rise slowly in the depths I

of her lovely violet eyes as she turned away
pained and annoyed at his frivoloas and imper-
tioent tone; his gaze, which followed her every

motion, saw it, too, and in an instant penitence

followed his cruel speech. He leaned toward

her and said, hurriedly and brokenly,‘ in so low 7

a voice that none but I overheard him, “ For-4
give me; I don’t know what I say or do. The
sight of you has brought back hopes andlon -
ings' I had thought long dead in me. I w

never have come near you had I thou htI»

should have been betrayed into saying an

t

that could have caused you a momentslpain.

My heart is sore, and’I have passed today,

through the bitterest trial life can  me.
But do not fear -; I will M688 you no more.”

Shepheard him, and gave him one timid, hub,

ﬂed. upward glance that spoke pardon, and I
almost thought love, in its  sting tenderness;
then turned away and busied smelt with what
was before her. . , ,
,EHugh, after this, spoke no more to her; but I
could see his gaze ﬁngering on her every now and

 
More than all this, he had won.

I thought you would be'

 
111701! MELTON. 7
then, when he thought she was engaged with . yprovide her parents with a happy, home in idea of a Bedlamite’s pvadise. A boot in one
Captain Cameron, who sat on the other side of their old age. But if she , does not love him, corner, a nrd in another, a‘regimental mt 13;

her father, with :a look that revealed too plainly
to my anxious eyes how utterly every hope and
affection of his noble and still young life, with
all its abundant promise of daring deeds and
painstaking triumphs of ad, was bound up in
this young heiress, w1th hersWeet pure beauty,
her clever radiant smile, her love-lit tender
.eyes, her halo of golden hair, and all the dainty
adornments of modern fashion helping, in their
careful, tasteful arrangement, to heighten and
enhance a beauty already too dangerous with-
out their assistance. The lad on the other
- side of him was fully occupie talking to her
next neighbor, so that he had nothing to call
away his attention from Miss Meares; and I,
who knew his mind, could read so clearly the
torture he was undergoing, as he watched
Cameron’s attentions with wild, vindictive eyes,
that I almost feared those around me must see
it too. But no; they were all too busy with
their own affairs, and I forced myself to amuse
my friends also, for fear they might perceive to
whom my attention Was straying. The longest
day must have an end, and this one at last
wound slowly to its close. Our fair guests
departed to adorn themsclves for the ball we
gave that night to celebrate the favorite’s vic-
tory ;' and I went off to my room, dragging
Hugh with me, much against his will, he, poor
fellow, no doubt wanting to go and brood in
solitude over his hard fate, and perhaps deplore
the softness that had led him to play into
Cameron’s hands in the- matter of riding the
horse. However, I would not take any refusal
from him, and once safely inside ,my room I
pushed! him into a comfortable chair and left
him for a few minutes in peace to collect him;
self and get'over the exciting events of the day.
After a few minutes I looked up from some

writing I was busy with, and glancing at him, '

saw his brow contracted by a dark frown, and
the whole expression of his face so sinfully
sad that I determined to try if I could) console
'him. I therefore went quietly up to him, and
[tying my hand on his shoulder, said:

“Dear Hugh, what is the matter? Can I
hel you in any way ‘1’”

e started, and for a moment an impatient
look crossed his face; but it faded away, and
with his smile sweet as ever, but unmistakably
sad, he) answered, ' '

“No, Citimsfbrd. What troubles me now is
a thing that none can lighten or take away, and
yet that causes more heaitburnings and
miseries than any thing on this wide earth-L—I
mean the anguish of unavailing regret, of
bitter remorse I saw you looking at me,
to-day at luncheon,‘Charlie; and no wonder;
you must truly have been ashamed of your
friend, when my distress, even such as I had
to bear, could have made me utter a covert
taunt to one so good and true as she. When
I saw the pained, startled look in her sweet
face, and the unshed tears glistening in her
gentle .cyes, then I knew that I had been a
brute, and felt that I should never forgive my:
self; but the words had been spoken, words such
as I should- have uttered to no woman, least of
all to her, who had acted all thrOugh this mat-
ter, not for her own happiness, but for that of
her parents; and no apology, no repentance,
can eﬁ'ace from my mmd the painful surprise
that looked out of her startled eyes as she turn-
cdthcm on me, with the mute inquiry, ‘And

on too, you whom I‘trust‘ed, and thoughtwould
have known me better ?” -

Anxiousto turn his thOu hts from such a
painful sub'ect, Iinterrupte ,him, saying, “ At
any rate, ugh, I am convinced that if you
hadaHOWed Cameron to imperil his neck by

'ding that horse, she would, to say _the least,
not have blamed you far any accident that
might have happened. . I fancy the 89315,“
captain is hardly appreciated in that quarter. ’

, “You are en, lie;,indeed yo}:
are,”he replied earnestl . “M188 Necrosis

13°15 “girl to go before with alie on her
2%;  try to love him, if she has not

. “d! s ooeedeaindoing so, in order thatshe
1W fulﬁll the conditions of the will, and there.

she will never marry him ; I know her well
enough to be sure that, coute gue acute, she will
abide by the right.”

I saw it was useless to say more on the sub-
ject, and so drew him gradually of by a series
of wechontrived questions about the race, the
merits of the horses, the style of the riders, the
size of the leaps, etc., though all the while I
could not help wondering how it was that such
a clever fellow as Hugh could have succumbed so
entirely to that charming and dangerous beau-
ty. Yet, after all, there was more reason inhis
infatuation than there is in most men’s;
it was not alone the beauty of face, form, and
color, or the charm of a sweet manner anda
silvery musical voice, that had enslaved him;
it was something far higher and rarer than
these—the spell of a noble intellect, a fervid
imagination, the attraction of a kindred soul in
art, a mind that could enter into and sympa-
thize with the slightest shades and inﬂections
of feeling in his ; while above all and over all
was shed the clear, unwavering light of lofty
principles and unswerving loyalty to them. It
was not so hard to understand after. all, look-
ing at it in this light, and I heartily wished
Hugh had never seen her, rather than that'ho
should have been allured into a passion which,
taking his nature and her character into con-
sideration, I have every reason to believe he
would never conquer. However, for the time
being I contrived to divert him from his troub-
les, but was not surprised when he announced
his intention of not going to the ball that eve-
nin . I thought he was right, as seeing her
again would'only pain him afresh; so bidding
him good-night, I hurried off-to the ball-room,
where, as one of the committee, I was obliged
to put in an early appearance.

 
CHAPTER III.
a rarer IN THE nmx.

’ “Soon an extraordinary thing has happened
to me,” said Captain James at mess a few
weeks after the race, “ Tellme, did any of you
fellows see any one going into or out of my
room yesterday while I was out ?” He ad-
dressed the table generally, and looked rufﬂed
and annoyed as he spoke ; a most unusual thing
with that laziest and most good-tempered of
men.

We all looked up, and Melton, from the other
end of. the table, called out, “ I was in your
room for a minute or two yesterday afternoon,
to fetch a book you told me I would ﬁnd there.
Why, what’s up ?”

“ Oh, it wasn’t you I meant; but any of the
servants, or people of that kind ? You rememf
ber my telling you the day before yesterday" of
the curious letter I had received from that fel-
low Griﬂin, who had absconded and let me in
for a bill I had backed for him, inclosing me
bank-notes to the value of the £500 for which I
had been let in. - Well, I intended to have
lodged that'at Cox’s yesterday; but not being
able to resist the temptation of a day’s shooting
unexpectedly oﬁered, I went out, leaving it on
my desk. Today, when I Went to look for it,
it was‘ gone clear and clean, leaving me without
any clew by which I can trace it, as I had for.
gotten to take the number of the notes.”

“ By Jove, that isli It must belooked
into,” growled Major Porter through his bristly
red mustache, and coloring up at the bare
thought that such a thing should have happened
in his regiment, while éyeryone’s face round
the table expressed In various degrees more or
less concern. ' ;

“Did you see any signs of the room having
been disturbed, or did it look just as usual when

on went in ?" asked James, after a pause, of

elton. ,

Hugh smiled, as did many others roundthe
table; for itwaswell known that James, besides
being the most indolent man in the regiment,
was very probably, in right ofthat attribute, 
the most disorderly, hisroom always presenting

 
an appearance that conveyed to enc’s mind the

ing here, pair of trawsers there i strew‘

the ﬂoor as though sown broadcdsli; war it, 
above-mentioned desk lying open topsy-turvy
under the table, its contents ﬂuttenn' g layfully
about the room as the summer breeze goated in
through the ppen window—these were a few of
the most ordinary appearances of the chamber;
so that it was no wonder Hugh smiled as. he
answered, “ I did not observe anything unusual
in the appearance of the ~room, but”-- Here
he stopped and hesitated for a moment. '

“ But what ?” asked James.

“ But that might be,” continued Hugh, stil
with a slight shade of embarrassment, “because
what would be unusual in other rooms Would
not be unusual there.” , ' L
This remark was greeted with a general sup.
pressed smile, and was thought to be a hit at
the captain; but notwithstanding that, a certain
uneasiness in Hugh’s manner might have led
one to think that his mind was occupied with
more important matters than his friend’s dis—
orderly habits.

James, however, whether it was meant as a
hit or not, took it with his usual good humor,
saying, “Ah, true, I dare say my room is not
quite as dandiﬁed as those of you other fellows; '
but, now, what do you advise me to do about
my money ?”

Every one was eager oﬁering advice, some
urging one plan, some another; notthat any of
their plans seemed likely to tend to the ultimate
object of securing the thief, ut at least it made
the speaker be listened to th a certain amount
of attention while enunciating his opinion, and
afterward—why, it was another’s turn to speak,
and he was forgotten. However, after, nearly
an hour’s excited talk, it was found we were no
nearer hitting on a plan for the recovery of 
money or the discovery of the robber, as we
were all strongly against bringing in a detective
from Scotland Yard on account of the scandal it
would give rise to; and it was determined only
that each one among us should keep a watch-on
all articles of value in our possession, with the "
idea that if there was any thief among the
servants, one such successful haul would not
satisfy him, and he would soon be at it again.

Days passed away, but nothing transpired
that could in any way give a clew to this most
disagreeable business; and than days , asscd
into weeks, but still everything remained m 
as unsatisfactory a state as at ﬁrst. At last one
day, about two weeks after the event, as Iwas
sitting looking at the papers in the news—room,
I heard Several young fellows, using Hugh’s
name in a way I didn’t quite like, though at ﬁrst '
I hardly caught what they meant. I stopped
reading, and listened. '

“ At any rate, you’ll admit,” said young Tuf-
ton, a newly joined ensign of the most cubbish
appearance~“ at any rate, you’ll admit it was
odd, Meltcn’s being in the room that after--
noon.”

“ Itwould have been still more odd.” said I,
rising, while I restrained with a violent econ .
my inclination to take the‘ycung snob by the
neck and pitch him out of the room—e“ it would
have been still more odd had he been in the
room and had not mentioned it; r And now Once
for all, gentlemen, whoever dares to breathes.
word of the kind you have just been uttexigﬁ _
before me must recollect that I  _
such speeches as direct insults to myself, 

rdingly.” ’ ~i'

shall take measures acco ' , _.
“No, Cairnsford, this is. my weir.” Raids
grave voice behind me, whla 9' hand was laid
on my shoulder. “ I heard what these gentle-
man were sayingas I came into the room, 
warn them that any remarks reﬂectin on my
honor  to be vindicated and upheld
in a way they may not wish.” ,,   
gala: forggt,” saidte'li‘ufton,  a 
u peopesuspec of». mating” '1 V7" '
does not belong to them it gig:

necessary to oﬁer satisfaction. Indeed, its  ,
tlemen we oculdn't do it.” ‘ _ f . 
I was looking at Hugh, and saw the brood

mountinahotﬂush overhisface, and assu-

 
blue light gleam in his dark eyes,as  j j 


ﬂ

HUGH MELTON.

 
bound like a panther‘he sprang forWard, and;
before the imprudent youth,de sti, he was‘

hold fast by the collar in Hugh’s muscular grasp.
Melton carried in his hands. strong Cutting whip
(he had just come in from riding Spitﬁre), and
 it, while the frightenedyouth vainly
mggled to get free, he appeared about to ad-
minister a’ correction which, however severe,
the cubhad certainl merited. I was, however,
for his own sake a . ut to interfere, and beg
him not to yield to a’nbi‘mpulse of passion, when,
drapping his whip, Melton ﬂung the struggling
sub violently from him, saying : -

- “,You are not worth it ; the lesson would be
lost on such as you. Stay," he added, in a com-
manding voice, as thoroughly crestfallen Tuf-
tea was trying to sneak .out of room, “let me
hear who put this honorable idea into your head,
for I don’t believe your brains would evsr have
invented it withOut assistance.”

1 ,"Ah,” Said the cub, brightening up, as he
thought of’bringing more inﬂuential names
than his own into the same scrape, “I heard
Captain Cameron saying he thought it odd,
an that he wondered Captain James had not

inquired more particularly of you at what

time you had been’there, how long you had
staid, where you got the book, and all the rest
of it; and Layton, with‘whom he, was talking,
said’such an idea. would never have entered
into his head, but that now it was talked of it

certainly did appearsuspicious." 'y

, 59,80, [,then, Cameron is the" gentleman to
whomylam indebted for these incinuations,”
said Hugh, slowly, with a .uzzled look on his
indignant face that gradually assumed a more
determined and convinced expression, while
elven his very lips grew white, and the veins in
 forehead swelled with some hidden emo-
tion. “ You m‘ay’go,” he’ continued, turning
to Tufton, “and remember, though on may

think yourself above giving me satis action, I

can get it out of you in such fashion as may
make you wish you hadbeen a little less par-
ticular." ' ' . ‘

Tufton slunk oﬁf, looking very much like a
whipped hound, and then Melton, turning to

thercst of us, said: 4

‘ "‘Now,gcntlemon, after all that has passed,
I It is .1180 > that I should see Cameron, and

ﬁnd. out't'hﬁt foundation that uppy had for

.mixingm' 'nam'eupiu this a air. There is

undoubt ewill bc'willing to,give such an ex-
planation as will, satisfy inc, and explain his
meanin’ to have been void of offense.” So
saying, 9 walked , uickly Out of the room,
andwe saw him to, e the .way to Cameron’s
guarters. What occurred there I did not hear
or many cleng month after; butane t‘iis

- seems the proper plane‘er is, I shall relate
what happened, just as Hugh afterward told
m6_  ._.

‘ ,y'iWhen- he entered Cameron's room that
shunning was‘ looking over some papers,
at. ensuing who ‘his'visitor was, he shuf-
fled themuuickly out. of sight and looked up
Impatiently.‘ v  ‘ ; r a r '
r- “Camelme _ ’,_Hugh,,“»that young, snob
Teflon {has has _ making some very offensive
insinuationsabout the. and he gives you out
arise n {rem Whomhsheard them. He
said mt nowm‘ the reading-room, before
Oairnsford and others, that you~ had said it
was a suspicious circumstance my being the
only person in, Jeruee’s room the day those
notes were stolen.  I was, very near, giving the
,'  fellow, the hidingrhomrichly deserved,
 pmmiaed’the others ouwould, explain
ﬁrdstoihsvebeen eit er entirely, altogeg
 . 1m it taken 11 in' we on i
 ~ p . 4 y? , '.
 ‘shbuldn/‘t I. intend it 2’" answered
banana ; patiently. , 1‘1 ddthinlrit a- sus-
, gaggle; ,3  stance  diif.you’§e’innOcent,
 .4-cvs,‘  rein ‘un uck , Or do one
gﬁiﬂahﬁgmﬁit X ' y " " 
l   seia him 
 was his  .aesxdiiyso fun to
' ‘ ” evamehh'but

- '0‘ I '  man  39$
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stages in: "lawn armame- =  "lesse-

 
know me too well to credit such an accusation,
even if you dared make .i .”

Here he stopped, for a. sudden, and to Mel.-
ton’s upright heart an awful change came over
the face turned full to his; it was a look of guilt
and terror and abject cowardice, that brought
at once conviction to the beholder’s mind. Mel-
ton drew away his hand from Cameron’s arm
with a kind of loathing wonder depicted on his
expressive face.

“You Were the thief,” he exclaimed. “ You!
011, I had not thought of anything so bad as
this; it is too terrible :” and he turned away,
partly that he might not see the cringing, ter-
ror-striken being before him, partly that he
might have time to collect his thoughts and de-
cide on a course of action.

_ “Oh,” cried Cameron, mistaking his move-
ment, and fearing he was about to go oil and
proclaim his discovery, “ for the love of Heaven
don’t t .111 I was in sore need; all the money I
had won did not quite pay my debts, and there
was one man to whom I owed £400 who would
have arrested me. in a day or two more, and
then, though my marriage would perhaps hard-
ly have been broken off, it would have caused a
scandal that would have pained Maud; and in-
deed her father might havo taken any measures.
I could not bear it, and knowing where this
money was, I was unable to resist the tempta-
tion, and took it. ' He could well spare it, and
I intended toxpay it back on my marriage ; in—
deed Idid,” he added, with vehement asserva-
tion, seeing, no doubt, in Hugh’s face that he
did not believe that last statement.

“My duty is onlytoo clear,” answered Hugh;
“1 must tell James what I know. I could never
have believed it, Cameron, and am indeed
sorry for you ; but I must do what I feel to be
right.” I

“ Yes, and be asked for your proofs, ” snoered
Cameron, who, driven to desperation, now de-
termined to puta bold face on it and brazen the
matter out. “I think you forget all about
them, but they are very necessary, I can (assure
you, My word is as good as yours, and I have
taken good care 'you should be under suspicion
already. Anything you may say of me will on-
ly conﬁrm the rumors aﬂoat'_about yourself,
as everyone will think you accuse 'me «to try
and divert attention from your own proceed-
ings."

It was too true, and for a momentllugh was
almost overwhelmed by the desperate situation
in which he found himself. He had too great
command over himself, however, to show how
deeply his enemy’s arrows had penetrated, and
after a moment’s silence, during which time he
reﬂected that he must dare all or lose all, he
resolved from his“ knowledge of Cameron’s
antecedents to draw a bow ata venture, and
see. what success would follow his audacity.

“Proofs l" he repeated, with alight, conﬁ-
dent laugh that had a touch of cynicism in its
tone. “I , haven’t got them now, but I can
have them before nightfall, It will only be
necessary to frighten your friend Mr. Solo-
mons into letting us look among his entries
for your last payment. The amOunt was £400,
Ithink, and the time about ten days,ago”——,
He would have gone on, but Cameron inter-
rupted him; a. ‘ ‘ t - ,,

“ Are you the devil in erson, or have you
' clton'?” he “ asked.

been readin my pers,
“Curse ou W119. do you mean bymeddling
inm airs ?” ' ' ‘ ‘ ' '

' “ ouleeem to forget,” anSWere'd Hugh,quiet-“
1y. satisﬁed that he budget the blew to this
affair, "that you began the matter by inter-
fering with my honor arid good name. In m
attempt to ,vindicate these, I have discovere
Whittle" tome an indescribably painful secret,
which. however,cannow he‘s secret no longer,
asI feel it to be my dut‘y’to acquaint James at
01199 with: 3111.1 have found out? p  I 
"‘Meltonr', £91 «Iléaven's sake have a, little
pity l’," wildly untreated Cameron. f“. Consider
the shalloe and :8Qlé170W 'ou willcause,my’in-
, , intricacies, ; 
trauma ‘ II sneer 6919mm , never. to summit
such an" action agar, and screams themoney

 
with interest assoon as I can get such a sum
together." a

- At the mention of Cameron's intended bride
Hugh’s face poled, and his lips quivered with
an emotion he could not repress as he thought
of her whom he loved united to such a reptile
as this before him. -

Cameron saw the change in his countenance,
and quick as light divining its cause, saw‘in
it a ray of hope, while it aroused in him a
bitter hatred of the man who loved his beauti-
ful betrothed, and to whom, his heart told him,
she was not perhaps as indifferent as she might
be. '

Following up this ray of hope, he continued
driving in the w dge deeper where he saw the
point had penetratcd. “ Think,” he said, “ of
Maud. I admit I am most unworthy of her,
but she does not know it; she belirves me to be
all she would wish me to be, and it would break
her heart could she See to what depths I have
fallen in my struggle to cle or away those debts
that raised impediments to our union. ‘I‘hink
of her, so tcnderly loved, so carefully reared, so
noble and so upright in all her feelings, wither-
ing slowly away under the disgraCe, or dying of
the shock, of ﬁnding out that the man she lewd
was branded with the stigma of theft,”

As Cameron, in ' hurried, breathless words,
drew this picture of Maud Mrares’s aﬂection
for him and her anguish at his shame,,Hugh
turned away with a half~uttered sob that was
heard only too distinctly by the man beside
him, who mentally registered avow that, when
his opportunlty occurred, he would make the
fellow pay well for his audacity in darin to
love his (Cameron’s) betrothed. For this time,
howeier, his eloqucnce prevailed; for after a
pause Hugh turned slowly, and facing him,
said, “ I could despise I? yself for being in any

way partner in your guilt, and «in not telling .~

what I know I am in a way partner in it. But
because you have prayed me by a power Icon-

not resist, I spare you this once, on condition I

that you shall not marry Miss Meares before
the expiration of two years ; and if before that
time has elapsed I hear of any other Web acts
on your part, I shall ‘ proclaim all I know,
which will have the effect of at once puttin

an enl to your gn 'agement, ;' for‘bou 63 cr we?
Miss Meares mry o've you, one of her princi
pies would never consent to marry a man ac-
cused of such a crime as yours. In the mean-
time, I shall procure thc money and send it

anonymously to Captain James, you giving 'me'

your note 'of hand for the sum, to be paid be—
fore this timc next year ; also, I must insistdn
your explaining publicly at mess those words
relative to myself, overheard by young Tufton,
which have been going the round of the cam
greatly to my prejudice. You will easily ﬁnd
some plausible wag for giving tlxm an inno-
cent meaning. ive me your acltnowled“ -
ment for £500. That will'do; James shal
have it to-morrcw. Remember our condi-
tions.” ' ‘ _.
Then, without dcigning to bestow a glance
on his crestfallen companion. Hugh left the
room, and presently re'oined me, saying, all
was right; notwithstam ing which aesertion,
his grave, sadglooks raised a doubt in my mind
that all was as right as he said. " ‘
That day at mess. Cameron, whose face, bore
no evidence of, the crisis he had just passed
through, said, carelessly, “By the way,‘ gar.
ton,'you must have stran ely misconceived a
remark you heard me ma e the other ,dayljor
else you cannot have heard it properly, I
said I considered it" strange t at "Captain
Melton, having been, some little time” in
the room. looking“ for a, "i'took, should
neither have disturbed the thief nor seen in
appearance of the (recruiting been   a
with, and,” ,I certainly wonder Captain  mass
had not questioned him more plosel ‘ as {some
aspect ofth‘e ’ roomiand the time at‘whichi‘he
_Wentjthere, w'th‘a' cw «tog‘ﬁ‘ndin out‘what
f' ecpfd‘irere{ Idly tofbe-‘dbout‘att at ,ai‘ticu-
iiu‘ soar.  fIt-fseems' youﬁhave _ been ‘ reading
disagreeable eonelvgsie'ns sameness- very ants-
less natural remarks; ,f',,T=‘rust you unmet
'do so in future,  ‘hope‘Meltoii Will swept

 
 I Q
*‘1‘  V . _

 
 allergies

 
HUGH MEL TON.

9

 
‘

 
niy apology for having unintentionally given
rise to slanderous reports." I

Melton muttered something about “ Certain-
ly," and “Pray say no more about it.” but
his face was re and annoyed - while ufton
looked wrote edly set upon. and didn't seem
to know whether to leave the room or remain
where he was. _

So that matter was, or ought to have been,
settled; but as we all know, it is far easier to
set bad reports gcmg than to stop them once
they get oat; and more than once I perceived
alter this some of the younger fellows, who
had not yet learned to know and esteem Mel-
ton‘s character, and others who, thou h older
and knowing better. yet hated him use
his pure and noble life shamed theirs, whis-
poring together in a mysterious manner, al—
ways stopping suddenly when either Hugh or
I approached them; a precaution which was
certainly Wise, as I doubt whether either of
us would have heard their discourse with pa-
tience. ' ‘

The golden autumn days ﬂew by quickl .
I had one or two good days among the stubb e
and turnips, while Hugh worked away with
unremitting vigor at his beloved art ;-it was
his com ‘ ion and irienvl, his solace introuble.
his inspiration in joy. - Always busy, his ﬁn.-
gers never seemed to flag, his mind never to
weary of it ‘; cud Iioiten envied the mmvclOus

er of forgetting his griefs in a fairde of
is own creation that he seemed to possess.
And yet not forgetting; I am wrong in using
that expression. Properly speaking, he did
not forget his griefs ; he bore them with a
calm fortitude that me more from deep strong
feeling well controlled than from any other
cause, and he would set himself to work in
order that constant mcupstion might revent
his mind from dwelling on its trou and
eating itself away in useless ropining.

CHAPTER IV.
m caoqunr run.

Ir was during that short golden summer we
generally have in the begining of October—
when the leaves don their gayest colors, crim-
son. and bronze, scarlet and glowing yellow,
when the hills are hazyin the distance, and
a bluish vapor hangs over moor and upland—-
that Hugh}, and several of. the others, Cam-
eronsmoug the number, were invited to the
last croq‘ edgy .of $3 seasotn $3353? '8
charmingp ,,,six seen of on,
the Lon road.

We Were asked at three o'clock to play cro-
quet, until live-o’clock tee, after which those
who liked might pie main, or stroll in the

nude until six o’c 00k, when we were to

1116, and. end the evening by dancing. Hugh
mnot able to go early with me, but he pro-
 to follow in time for the dance; so
Cameron, land one or two others went before,
to  “the croquet midget as much fun out
either do: as circumstances permitted, it being
 feared, among us that before long we
should be ordered out to mainland have to bid
slougtarewelltothoplcasuressudpastimesof
“moi-rib England." 1

The croquet wontoif in much the usual we ;
3‘ great amount of ﬁxation, leevened by e
smallest ‘ warble modicum of croquet. By—
tho-woy, if there, is.  I detect, it is
that habit of pretending to‘ do one thing,
while all the time you are doing another, and
would not for the world give an iota of atten—
tion to the object“ on which you are supposed
to be engaged. _ . ‘

Why not call an entertainment like theone
in question aﬂirtation party? . Brouldbc a
great, deal more true than its present name, and
would golemtaﬁord people the satisfaction of
knowing whet they were going for. Now if a
reel, Lover'qu prequel, goes for croquet’s sake, he
ﬁnds, _, f is further from the thoughts of
“’0'” 0.51% L cornpwy than attending in their

' for the other thing, it is

game; endifhe'
an awful bare to interrupted

in the midst of <

 
by, "It’sthetedball

,3
,,

7 I ‘

 
to play now," or, “Come now, C——~~, it’s your
turn." ‘ ' -

At ﬁve o'clock we .went in to tea, in the
little room that overlooks the crmguet ground,
and which! you . enter thence by the window.
The even' was lovely; the air balmy asin
June ; the b ue shadows settling down so peace-
fully on the surrounding landscape, the purple
and old clouds of sunset Casting their bur-
nish light on wood and hill in such changcful
and gorgeous beauty that I could not tear my-
self from the scene, and remained outside lean-
ing ainst the open window listening to tho
bava 6 inside, and feasting my eyes in akind
of delicious laz dream. I was standing side-
ways, so, that could, by a. very slight move-
ment of the head, either see into the room or
gaze at will over the wide expanse of country
spread out before me. Suddenly I heard a
voice I knew and disliked (it belonged to a
young lady of the neighborh fast, and a
good croquet player, with whom it was rumor.
ed Solace was des rately smitten) exclaim:

“Isn’t there a uptain Melton in your regi-
ment, Captain Cameron? The man. there are
all those curious stories about, I mean? "

“ There is a Captain Melton, " he answared ;
but to whet stories do you refer, Miss
Bruce ? ”

“Oh, you know very Well," she replied,
“though I sup c you who are in the same
regiment don’t 'ke repeating them. I mean
those stories about some money he look, or at
least is so strong sus of having taken,
out of Captain ames 6 room. The say the
mone has been returned since, and dare say
that is true , for when he found himself sus-
pected, he was no doubt afraid to keep it. ’

I remained stupeﬁed, unable to utter a word
for a. minute, so great was my astonishment.
ﬁrst at sucha rumor being foraminutebe-
lieved and re sated, and secondly, at its having
attained cu notoriety; Before however,
Cameron could answer, or I could inter-pose, a
clear musical voice from the other end of the
room said, distinctly:

“It is false; the vilest fabrication ever in-
vented by slanderous tongues. None but those
who envy Captain Melton his good reputation
would have dared to coin so base a calumny."

I turned whence the voice proceeded, and
there, with her head erect, her dirk eyes flash,
mg, and her whole face ﬂushed with generous
and indignant feeling, seat Miss Means. I had
not observed her. onthe croquet mun and
yet she must have been cut, as} lace show was
drawn across her shoulder, and a daintyhet,
that seemed cons almost of white curling

featheru‘la cheronthesofa. ».

Game” “1“” “not mutt" m“ a“ could not 1: p hearing every word they were

he glanced pt'his be. ;. butibcfore'he
could- ,ak  Bruce said,  thence.th
up as to a sneer shocould venture on when
a lag a lady of_ so much importance as
Miss Meal-es: ,_ _ , . '
“Doormat,- howvery fortunate Ca ‘tain Mel-
ton is in hsving such an advocate ! ' ut those
thin are said othimneverthelesu” ’ ‘ r
V “ issme‘erﬁﬁis‘xishti’.’ Moron;
“ Ho 11 Mﬁliioll, in «egva good sort offellow,
and am,  he  $10116; nothing wrong,
though it intros thoseounous stories are aﬂoat.
Iwondcr .‘y  .vo‘rise to them; it
must”have , some ,, , (gindiscretlon onhis

“ Pardon“ me,’f’ acid I,» here stepping- into the
room (he  m9;  as,  beck
wastcwerdthe window, and it was? oodito see
his face when!» totem” M1wa Wms' ’50
his vindication of; his obsent co  vindi-
cation carcsally  ,to do pen in the
mindset his hearerstbe impression that some;
thing-wars wy endow;  Cameron
was a'veryhﬁ, , (follow. to take-uprights oudgels
for him at he.“  31192; bntyonought not
to wonder'how. 33,. 0‘1. 93“?
perfectly well aware that it was throng some,
foolish, remarks;  ryhioh _-,. you were

obliged Wy'dl’oldglm Publicly- as}  as you

were knowntxto betlieauthorot them.” /

“‘A‘ht 3N5"!   . ', I ; _

greatly'ooniused. I “Blitl‘don‘t  933. “3895

 
‘ appreciati

 
_._.

rumors arose from that." Here he stopped and
hauled himself in handing tea, lookLng ad the
tone dreadfully small.” ' .

A8 forms, arming myself with a. cup of tea, I

marched straight in to. Miss Home and pre—’
sentcd it to her. ,‘Vghile she Was drinking it I

could not resist showing my appreciation of hlr
gallant defense of ' Ingh. and said:

“ The absent, have aim-e friend in 5011,3235
Monroe, and you wore right in every wc'i‘d you
said, for armorenpright and 1:0le flow than
Melton does not exist." 7 - _

She glanced up brightly. “ I am so (311;!
you agree with me; I cannot toil ' you how i.i-j
dignsnt I. felt at hearing Such vile mph-mm;
of his 306d name, made by those who noithcr
know him nor are capable of comprehending or
‘ him did they know him. Are you
a friend of his ?" , V ‘ 

“ I am proud to think that I um 0:10 of his
most intimate friends," I. answered. “ Ever
sincche joined weheve kc ttogcthcr, and cv.
cry "day only increaSes  for  ' _

“ Ah, then you must Captain Cairnsford,‘
of, whom I have heard him speak. 3 I am ’73:?
gladtomake our ac usintance.‘ Captain I“. :
ten  so'muc about you, I. had quite
a curiosity to’sec'you.”   ‘ g i ’

' As she said this she glanced at me somewhat
criticallv;_so much so that {felt inclined to
ask her if 3116 approved of his choice of ahiciid
when! saw Hugh enter the room, havin just
driven over ; and-thinking it better he s ould
not become immediately taken up by Kiss
Meares’s presence, Iwent over-to where he‘was
talking to our hostess, and persuaded him to
come out for a stroll through the - rounds, which
were very prettily laid out, and ooked ghost in;
viting’ that mild October evening; ‘We‘strollcd
about for some time, I smoking, Hugh rhupo-
dizing over the beauties ’of the gorgeous an.-
tnmnel landscape, with its brilliant tint; and
buy distance, till at length, ﬁnding a most in.
viting mmvered sect near the house, and
commanding a beautiful view, though itself

hidden from observation, we cut down for a

few minutes before returningto dine and be-
gin the business of the evening~4ﬂirtation and
dancing. 1 ‘ ' ' r ' _

Suddenlv we heard voices talking, which‘iI
immediately recognized as those ' of Kiss
Macros and Captain Cameron. My companion
knew them also, as I saw from the contraction
ofelgregrlow nndrh quivering of his 30me com;-

r 1 cy were passing spot}:
ﬁt the footpz‘f the hill, on the‘to; otwsich we

were seated ; but as we menu ,, the shadow

of the trees, and the evening was directly darli-

en' , they did not see us. Their voices rung
 on the'evening—air, 80' that we

saying. We would have beaten a retreat, but
that was not ‘ sible without confronting
them. which neither Hugh nor I wished to do.
The best thing under the circumstances seemed
to be sitting still, as they would soon  out
of ear-shot; She we. sayin : " Why you
not speak out more boldly ﬁt your conﬁde,
Captain Melton, tooday! 0' y that 
on honorable and u right” theday, I about!
ve thought you  not ‘wish   him
from the im utaticn, your vindication was, so
feeble. I ow well it was surprise at the

turn Gaimsfcrd
. ,1

charge, and not any unworthymotive -, bun,

tell see. we“ did
 some t‘
given‘neetotherems?” , ' .
,,I should think eron's face must hxwe
been a study fora physiognomist at this ques-

~than ,However. he Wand in his most silky

tones .,
“'Gairnsford'slluded to my having said}.
wondered-Captain Jones had not .jquestioued
.Hclton asto the hour at which ‘hewus " 
room,andso On. With ‘a view to {seems out
who were hkel to be about at that per-
tzcular time. , was overheard, so ‘ng this,
which wassurely innocent enough; y Tuftcn,
a young such 11me joined, who choseto build

a whole host of slanderous rumors On “it, and

setthem ﬂoat' about the camp“ but. 'I was
not to blame rigor: i- ‘ 1' x"  a r 
“Of course not,”she‘ answered: ‘f’IN-a'mso

“remixed

 
i. ....:t‘.;_»a:...... on, ....

 
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g.
'3‘}
if,

 
, danc' began.

, Miss M.
fa bore as I sometimes did Anything

10

IIUG’II MEL TON.

 
glad you have been able to explain that, for I
may now confess I had a kind of uneasy feeling
from your manner. I don’t think I doubted you,
and yet I feared if, after all, you might not be
such amen as I fancied you ;' for you know
well my determination never to marry one in
whose truth and henor I have not the most im—
plicit conﬁdence.”

As she said this Melton seized my arm, and
sail, hoarsely:

“ Come away; I cannot hear any more, or I
shall think myself a villain for not telling her
at once what I know about this man, and I can.
not, for I am bound by a promise."

He dragng me away after him, taking the
direction that led from the house, so that after
about ten minutes’ hurried stumbling through
the tangled shrubbery and long damp grass-
we arrived at the demesne wa‘. , 0n t 6 out-
side of which ran the high-road. Here he
Stopped and turned toward me, his face pole
with contending assions and guivering with
emotion, still vislb inthe now eepening twi-
light, as he said: ' »

“I can’t go back to that, house to-nigh ,
Charlie; make my excuses to Lady A——.
Then, seein I was about to urge him, he
added : “ on’t ask me. I cannot I look
in that innocent face and think that I am con-
cealing from her what so nearly affects
her happinesa, I can’t  you either, or I
would ask your advice. I am out off from
all help, and must let matters take their course.
It is very hard, but my own folly has caused
it all.” -

He laughed bitterly as he spoke, and vaulting
.ovcr the wall, was gone in a moment. I re-
mained for a few minutes rooted to the spot,
musing deeply. At such times as this, when
his self-restraint for a moment. gave way, I

n
u

could guess how intense were his sufferings at

witnessing the happiness of his successful rival.
Slowly I returned to the house, thinking over
this most unfortunate business, and mentally
stigmatizing the young lady as a mercenary co-

quette. and the whole of them together as a set

, of itapracticable fools.

I made Hugh’s excuses t? Lady 11—, and
then joined the laughing, t3.ng groups assem-
bled, waiting for dinner to be announced; but
all m former appreciation of Miss Macros had

' ' ' and I. scrupulously avoided entering
into conversation with her. Afterdinner the
I watched her without appear-
ing to 0 so, and saw that she appeared absent
“and distraitc, though she continued dancing
with considerable energy with Cameron and
tubers. ‘ _ V

I don’t care much for dancing, though when
'1 ﬁnd myiself in a ball-room I generally " Tatit

 a  and do my duty in‘that line, as

Embed, represented by hcr’numerous spin-
stormed, expects ;i still I confess that new and
then, when you meet with an unexceptionally

ood partner and are‘moving to the music of a
--§rst—rate band

, there isreal enjgment in it,
and‘in'spite of “my newly conceiv aversion to
the'boautiful heiress, 'I could not help thinking
the" Blue Danube ‘Walt-z with herifor ‘a partner
would be pliesSaut. ‘What an amount of non-
sense the most Sensible man talks ate ball, and

what an appalling number of imitations the 'p
_- most stop” -he 
the

immense plunges into to
taste, of a swinging waltz, or‘under’ the
still  patient inﬂuence of Chenipagn'e and
lobstersaladl. ,. 4, ” . j  ‘
I fancyI' did as‘much pm thatlme as any

T body else that night, thoughf'I don‘t now re-
«membsr very clearly who most» attracted my
attention; but, I do know that I left Lady

ill—~43 at ‘ﬁve o’clock am. with a very distinct
idea that it was the pleasantest ball I had ever
been at, and'that if all mypartners, resembled
Rogers, I should not ﬁnd dancing suich
so 0.
lightful as that  fmust of necessity be fol-
lowed up by unmitigated disegreesbles; so

that, though intenser  I was hardly ‘
A " ' " I made myﬁpipearsnce at‘three'
 sneer an. that day, to hour we had received

when

thekreute. for India, and some one  kj‘in a

» day or‘two‘onboard ans. new a Gravesend.

 
C H A P T E It V.
our 'ro INDIA.
Now all was bustle and confusion, rushing

here and there to say farewell, distracting one’s
brains to frame adieux that, while sufﬁciently

‘ sorrowful, should not be enough so to excite

suspicion of more tender sentiments than it was
prudent to avow. I had a good many acquaint-
ances about, and was so taken up by paying
farewell visits and receiving farewell invitations
that I saw little or nothing of Hugh until the
day when we found ourselves all on board the
Echo. I might have obtained leave, and fol-
lowed the regiment out by the Overland Route
if I had chosen to do so; however, I had pre-
ferred keeping along with the rest, . ecially as
Hugh could not have remained behiﬂwith me.

Our quarters Were tolerany comfortable; and
I have no doubt the voya e would have been a
{leasant one if only Cameron had been moved
"y some good spirit to sta behind and follow
us overland ' I had heard in; talking of it be-
fore we left, but 'for some reason he had altered
his mind; and there he was, with his sneaking,
self-complacent smile and his creeping, insi-
dious ways. Percy Langham, Templeton, and
one or two others of the nicest set were not with
us; they would come out afterward. But
their absence contributed greatly, no doubt,-to
the disc eeable nature of the voyage. ‘ We had
been on y four , or ﬁve days at Sea, and‘going
well before the wind as we were, Hugh and I
found it not'unpleasant. These Who had been
seasick were recovering, and beginning to crawl
about, reminding one of sickly caterpillars, with
their feeble gait and enormous appetites.

‘Hugh and I were standing leaning over the
taﬂ’rail in‘the stern—I smoking, Hugh gazing
idly over the blue expanse of water, sparkling
under the crisp clear sunlight of an autumnal
morning, and ruﬂ‘led by a gentle breeze into in-
numerable foam-tipped waveletsas-when, turn.
ing suddenly towards me with a kind of half-
rcscntful, half-appealing look, he said:

“‘" Charlie, have you noticed anything odd in
the manner of our fellows toward me lately '8”

Iturned wisha surprised negative on my lips,
when, as I did so, I saw at a little distance Cam-
eron talkin to Brabazon,'a niCe young fellow,
not long 'omed, to whom both Hugh and I had
taken rat or a fancy. They were both looking
at us, but erceiving that I was watching them,
they turned away with a kind of confused man-
ner, and walked off. I then remembered that
for the last day or two Drabazon never seemed
to have time to come and chat with us in the
stern as ,he used at ﬁrst; and whenever we had
tried to stop him for a minute, he had hurried
aWay, saying, ‘5 Eicus’o' me, I‘- am busy” My

answer, therefore, died away on'my lips; for I

began to feel that perhaps it might be as Hugh
he suggested, though I hadmot yet remarked
anything. He continued: ‘ I

“I sccyyour silence tells me that, you have
noticed it, I am convinced Cameron is at the
bottom of it. Wait and watch: you will see I

am right; and if I am, I willtell’you something
-I have hitherto kept concealed; greatly against

my will, for I much wantedrr your» counsel.
rom’ise kept me silent,however; but I shall
consider myself absbIVed {rem it—‘at least with
re ' id to 'ou-—if-»what I ' est be the case.”

(It’s  no more then; put I was surprised
at Hugh’s mentioning a secret, as I thought we
know everything about each'other; and also-I
Was annoyed to think- it possible that any one
could presume toavoid » him, or treat him as an
unﬁt companion for the best among us. V

I had not long to wait for conﬁrmation of the
suspicions Hugh had put into my head. That
afternoon, as we sat in a snug little nook we had
discoverediamong some coils of reps and, bun.
ales ofsails, Brabazon and Solace; came into our
retreat, as though intending to sit there and

_ smoke like ourselves.

“ Ah, you have found out our hiding-place I"
I exclaimed. “has it jolly? There’s room

.for you two.  and have a chat with us.”

“ Oh, no; I don’ttlnnk  stay," answer
ed Brahman, hurriedly,’ looking at Hugh

 
weir? 
i r i _ r.

allows insinuations and rumors“ or all
- be bruited about in atwaythat would destroy any
man’s character, no matter how innooént ' he

 
askance, and seeming nervously anxious to draw
Solace away with him. I ‘

Hugh looked at him calmly for a minute or
two without speaking, and then raising himself
slowly, but with determination expressed in
every movement, from the reclining position he
Occupied, he said:

‘f You don’t wish to be contaminated by my
society. , Isn’t that it, Brabazon ?”

The lad looked badly scared, and only stam—
mered, “ I——I——don’t know what you mean,
Captain Melton.” '

“Come, speak the truth like a man,” he
answered, sternly. “Don’t be afraid. I shall
keep all my wrath for those who have .ﬁlled
your mind with evil thoughts of me. You must
tell me,” he continued, springing to his feet,
and placing himself in front of the young fel—
low, who would gladly have escaped had "he
been able. ,

“ Never mind, Brabazon,” interposed Solace
at this juncture. “Tell Melton everything; it
will give him a chance of contradicting those
vile stories which he has never before had, as he
has never heard them clearly yet. As for me,
I don’t believe them, and so I told you when
you repeated them to me." ,

Thus encouraged, Brabazon, still, greatly ter-
riﬁed, began: r ‘

“Cameron says he saw you enter Captain
J ame’s’s room, and, passing the door without a
thought of . anything wrong, saw you opening
the desk, which lay on a table near the centerof
the room. He thought nothing .of it at the time; -
but when he: heard of the loss of the money,
imagine his feelings. He says, Captain Melton,

‘he was so taken aback by your eﬂrontcr'y in

saying out boldly at mess, that you had been in
the-room, that at ﬁrst he thought you must have

been innocent; but after that affair with Tuften ,

he became uneasy, charged you with the thrft
to your face, forced you to acknowledge it, and
then, he says, his ﬁrst wrong step was taken.
Instead of going on the spot to James or the
colonel, and telling what he had discovered, he
allowed himself to be persuaded into keeping the
matter secrets Your penitence, he said, seemed
so great and your grief so abject, that he really
had not the heart to ruin your prospects in.th
without giving you one more chance. New,”
continued Brabazon, who, though a nice young
fellow if he had not fallen into bad hands, had
evidently been so well (primed and schooled by
Cameron, that he coul hardly look at the mat-
ter from any point of view not~sanctioned by
that worthy, “ I should never have fancied Cam~
eron to be good-natured enough to do that kind
of thing; and I must say in  
he was altogether too lenient” ' ,  i 7
“Well, all I can say,” answeredISolace, “is,
that his good nature does not seem to be very
great when he cannot hold  ton ehébut
’n to

might be of the charges brought ' 1: him,
and that as the case stands, will very ely drive
Melton out of the regiment quite as suner aérif
he had told the colonel‘at ﬁrst... I don’t call that
good nature if‘you‘ do." 1 ~ . " .

a.“ .I thought as you do; at ﬁrst,” replied Bra»
bacon; “ but he explained that nothing would

have induced him to betray the secret once he

had allowed you, Melton, to remain in the regi»
ment; but that when he saw me driftinginto a
friendship with ou, taken by your charming
manner and face, he then considered it

‘his dut to warn me of the character of the man

I was isposed to admire. Even then he did
not speak out or licitly, only hinted darkly all
was not right, til , seeing at last that his innuen-
does practiced rather a contrary effect from
what he wished, he was obliged to be more dis-
tinct. Besides, he said that though fear had
kept you from falling into a ﬂagrant oﬁense
since then, still he saw by your manner that, far
from being repentant, you felt nothing but
hatred for the man who ad ed you. He-
says he now sees it would havﬁn better such
a character should have left the regiment‘at
once rather than remain-in it to have the oppora
tunity: of inﬂuencing young y-fellev‘vaareoenuy

 
HUGH MEL TON.

11

 
joined in a manner which can do them nothing

but harm. Remember; Captain Melton,” Bra;-
bazon went 0n, ‘apologctically, “ I am only re-
peating Carneron's- exact words, and am very
sorry to pain-you by domg so ; only you would
insist on'hearmg them, and he never gave me
to understand I was net to repeat them.”

“ Judging ? by ’physiognomy,” interrupted
Solace, “Cameron looks much more likely to
commit 'a theft than Melton. Yet I can not
fancy such a knowing 1’ ..lloW would have com-
mitted himself by spreading scandals unless he
knew that‘you', Melton, wore bound in some way
, or by some promise that would prevent your
vindicating your character in the eyes 0f the
world. However, Iam glad now you have heard
it_all, and I'for one will believe your simple de-
mal “1 Preference to Cameron’s sneaking lies.”

“ Thanks, Solace,” said Hugh, looking up
dejectedly, but still proudly, intoithe young fel-
low’s face. “ I think you know me well enough
to judge the measure of faith you can attach to
such_slanders. Circumstances prevent my dis-
provmg them as I might do ; my denial is all I
can give you. To you Iam sure it will be all
that is necessary; to others I feel it will not be
as worthy of belief as Cameron’s aspersions.”

‘.‘ It is enough for 1ne,’f said Solace, a nice
young fel'ow whom we both liked; “ and I am
glad to have your word, though 1 would have
believed you without that. It is a pity you won’t
diaprovo them though; for you know a great
many people will try and catch hold of your si-
lence to make the matter worse. Think it over,
and so 3 if you can show up his falsehoods. And
now, Brabazon, that you have told all about it,
' and are, Ihope, as satisﬁed as I am, we‘will go
and take a turn on the quarter-deck.”

A3 their fectsteps died away in the distance,
and silence fell around us——for there was no I
one how any where near—J glanced at Hugh
to see how he took this fresh evidence of his
enemy's untiring, unpitying hate,

His face was buried- in his hands, but his
hurried breathing showed how keenly he felt
the shame of such a charge. I pitied him for
hismisplaced' trust, and though I never doubted
histruth, I could see that Cameron had some
hold over him that might avail to work his
destruction. It was too true what Solace had
said: ' hough one or two might and would be-
lieve, his word, by far the greater number would
i only exult in his downfall, and point to his si-

lences—«springing, I was sure, from some noble
cause—as the proof that the accusations of his
enemy were tame, and he had nothing to an-
svveragainst them. I waited for a few min-
utes,fand was then about to try some eﬁort at
concolation, though, hardly knowing what to
say, when he looked up, turning his frank, mod-
est eyes on me do he said, “Why, Cairnsford,
are you still here P”

Iknew well what he meant, and why he had
not used the familiar name of Charlie, by which
he had so long called him. I saw that the iron
had entered into his soul; though why he should
care about a stigma I felt conﬁdent he could re-
movo’l'oould not imagine. Still he did care;
he was cut tothe heart, and men one who liked
him less than I might have seen that his tone

, au'd’worde seemed toasty, “You hear of what
Iain accused, and see that I make no defense ;
why" have you not left me '1’”

Itwas {time something should be done to
show him that some at‘least remained faithful, ;
and Would not "believe the Islanders of the ene-
my ;' so laying" my hand on his arm, I said,
gently :, I _ ‘ ' - . ‘

‘i‘ Hugh, I shall be? really angry if you can
think me so false 9. friend, so unworthya mind,
as to‘turn from the one most dear to me On the
strength of a scandal Spread by 5‘ WWWhOm;
of “mothers, 1 distrust and despise. You have,
told. the you have some secret connected with
himjn yam- keeping. What it may be I know
11%;]?th I feel conﬁdent that it 13 to revenge
 to: -» your having become acquainted
Withihia metre has invonted this report, in
the  though few would venture to dis-
believe‘yourdenial, " ﬁrst such a. taint of map»
cion massage, round you as might compel

 
3’0“ to sell: outta-ardent: escape its atmosphere.

 
I see his plan, ,. and a cunnineg devised one ,it
is; but if, y0u consider yourself suﬂiciently ab-
solved frOm your promise by his conduct, tell
me the mystery, and we will together devise
some plan to "make his villainy, recoil on his
own head.” ‘ 7

“ Dear friend,” answered Hugh, grasping my
hand, “ I can never thank you enough for stand-
ing by me in this cruel trial. Let me think One
minute before I tell you a .” '

He rose and paced hurricdlyu and down our
narrow strip of deck. The ush had died
away now from his brew, and his face looked
white and worn; his lips were set in a rigid
line of ﬁerce determination ; his dark eyes
were painfully sad, and had a wild, hunted
look in them as he glanced once or twice over
the blue waters, heaving as he did so a short
sigh. At length he stopped, and said, in a
low voice, “I can’t help it, Charlie ; those who
think badly of . me must do so. What that
young fellow said just now about Cameron
reminds me of what I ought to do. A prom-
ise must be kept at all risks. He knows he
is safe, or he would never have dared say such
things of me. Do you remember the words
of the old poem I showed you once ?

' Let me be false in othcrr’ eyes,
So faithful in mine own.’

That is just my case ; until he commits some
more ﬂagrant offense than inventing slanders
about me, my lips aresealed. I see nowI made
a great mistake, and one that I fear will affect
other lives dearer to me than mine; but the
die is cast-J must stand by and hide my time
in patience.”

His voice shock as he turned away and again
paced up and down, a deeper gloom than I
had ever before seen there settling down on
his once gay and careless face. Then he
wheeled round suddenly ; a light of determi-
nation breaking out over his countenance
seemed to transform it into the likeness‘of one
of those warrior angels of whom Raphael and
Michael Angelo dreamed, as, facing me, he
said : “I‘tell you, whatever he thinksto do-—
and you say he intends to drive me out of the
regiment—I will not go. He may persecute
me by slanderous reports and malicious acts,
he may blacken my character and darken my
life, he may take friends and acquaintance
from me, but he shall not get rid of me till the
time during which I must watch him shall ex-
pire. Yes, Charlie, even though you were to
turn against me~which Godforbid !~I should
still remain—~13. poor despised outcast among
all my former comrades.”

“But surel ,” I answered, “ his behavior
towards you 18 quite such as to release you
from any promise you may have made him.
For my part, though I can’t conceive what the
secret can be between you two, yet I am sure,
were I in your place, I should throw honor to

the winds, have my revenge on him, and clear

myself, as I feel convinced you could do if you
chose.” , 7 7

He signedme to be silent with an impatient
gesture. “Hush, for mercy’s sake! You don’t
know how strong the temptation is. Don’t
add your voice to that of my natural selﬁsh
nature, which is urging me to forsake all the
principles I have tried to live by, and drives:me,
with a force I ﬁnd it almost impossible to resist,
to clear myself from this charge, even at the
cost of my honor. How long it seems since I
have had any rest—harassed, worried, an-
noyed on every side, dark looks and inuen-
does among my comrades, a perpetual conﬂict
between my heart and my reason—J thatrusea
to be soreasy-goin and light-hearted! I often
wonder what will 0 the end of it.” ,

“ You, have «truly had a. hard time of “it,” I

answered; .“ but “remember, Hugh, 1 the " old

proverb, '9 The night is ever darkest before the
dawn.’ It is now as dark with youa'sitcan
well be; before long; youwill see 1i ht breaﬁn
thro h the clouds. has up a 
don't et yam-enemy ' t he has trium had.
I  nowI see his game, keepan eye on ' ;
and ‘ , I and an opportunity ofdefending on
and. showing him up, depend upon me it 
not escape me.” I ~ I

. anyone.

 
, ,f‘ Thanks, dear friend]? he replied, taking
my hand again," '“ I' don’t know what I should
have done without you; already your steadfast
faith has comforted me; besides, be the night
never sodark, the trial never so bitter, it ’be.
hooves us to face it like men, with a ﬁrm heart
and unﬂinching courage; None but cowards
turn from danger; the brave face it the more
boldly the greater it appears; I had forgotten
that.” ‘

H3 uttered this more to himSelf that to me
as he sat gazing out over the broad waste of
waters. v

“ I agredmvith you,” I said; “trials are al-
ways less if you face them boldly. Remember
that there are many others, too, as well as I and
those whom you like best, that will stand by
you through good report and evil report. ‘How-
ever, enough of this now ; take a cigar and for.
get care for a time; there is nothing comforts,
one like a good smoke.”

Hugh assented languidly, taking a cigar with
the air of one who has lost all interest in life;
but before long, under the soothing inﬂuence of
the narcotic, he brightened up a little, and his
sad face assumed a more tranquil expression.
When we left our retreat no one would have
guessed by his face through what an ordeal he:
had just passed, and the most keen-sighted
among his enemies could have observed no
signs of ﬂinching when he encountered any
marks of avoidance or contempt,

So we sped gany on toward the tropics—-
gayly, at least, as regards the sailing of the ves-
s;l; for providntially we encountered none
but favorable winds the whole way, otherwi
we should have died of ennui, as it may We ‘
b3 imagined a certain stiﬂness reigned in our
party, some of whom would neither look at nor
speak to Melton; indeed, I Was the only one
who kept up really friendly relations with him;
the few who did not believe Cameron’s story
could not quite take Melton’s innocence for
granted when he made no elfort to bring for.
ward proofs to establish it. Then, again, I,
being his constant companion, came in for
some of the odium attached to him, though for
that I did not care a straw, as, with the exec p-
tion of Solace and some few others, they Were
not worth caring about. Still it was dull, very
dull, and thankful, indeed, I was that we met»
none of the usual aims that are generally so
tiresome near the Line.

At last one evening, when we were about
26° south latitude, a fearful accident concurred,
which was near ending fatally for us all. ‘ We»-
were on deck. smoking, talking. and. reading;
Hugh trying to take a. faint transcript of one of

the most gorgeous Southern sunsets I ever be,

held, and I lounging beside him, when glancing.

carelessly out at the foamy track left by the
vesszl, as she plowed her way through the rip. _'

pling wavelets, I saw between me and the
glowing sky a thin ﬁlmy vapor ascending...

Lazin I watched for a. while, as it curled and}
wreathed in fantastic shapes that lent a siesta»:
ing softness to the brilliant tints" beyond. »
After about ten minutes’ lazy cnjoyment of the -'

novel effect, a vague wonder etc i; into :1:

mind as to how it got there:  y' y
be smoking, leaning out of the 8m windows,
or siting among the cordage and chains-Pr Yes, ,
that was probably the causeofit‘; some If our
fellows nordoubt' had chosen that , lace fora
quiet chat. But who oould‘it be? ‘

tor-mined to look over and see. _ .

1“ I’ll ‘be back- in a .minute, Hugh,” I 
risling viii-3y sloglyand, in spite of my curiosity,
'reuotan on making wa aft. When I
amenable mums and y ' ‘
was to be seen; but, what I for afew seconds

thought odd. there seemed to bap‘hot vapor. 1'
oozing through the erevioesof .:

was

and the air smell. :1 so cl 5
it'be? I added once 02%

 
some 0116 '

. . ey Were -
most of them in groups nearus; I did not miss. 1
So at last, out of pure curiosity, I ﬁe. ‘ ,

eaned over," moons ,

. cayend’ than  ,
,overwhelmmg force the” conviction rushed .
through my mindmthe ship warm ﬁre.
run . and tell the captain'was the work
of an Instant, and a minutelater it was foundj

. :3


‘ after their spell at the pumps.

through  the

there in the deck, w
: would burst out now and then through same
smothering those,

12

H U 011 .llEL TON.

 
that awe saloon in the stern, in which the
ladies y sat, was on  \

Our man manned the pumps turn about with
the blue jackets, and we put in our turn with
the rest, Hugh throwing aside his unﬁnished
sketch, and working like a horse at whatever
came under his hand. ,

“ Where is Captain Cameron ?” asked Solace,
coming up hurriedly to where we were work-
ing, carrying away all inﬂammable articles
from the proximity of the ﬁre. He was in his
shirt sleeves like the rest of us, and though his
face was pale, his voice was ﬁrm and clear as
.he spbk-e.

“I don’t know,” Hugh answored, shortly,
as he turned to assist a marine vainly striving
to move some pondercus article by his unu
 strength. “ Why do you want him?”
he continued, wiping the sweat from his
brow, as he staggered forward with tired
helper.

“Only that I haven’t seen him doing any

' ' , dewant him to come and help us.
We must all work now if we wish to live. ”

Suddenly from the forward part of the ship
glided the man he was looking for, pale, hag-
'gard,_and with big drops brought there not by
toil, but by anguish and fear, standing on his
brow, the very picture of abject terror.

H 011,." he cried, with a pleading jesture of
thehunds, “ how are you getting on? Is the
ﬁre being got under? For mercy’s sake, tell
me quick! "

’ “'l‘he worst is to be feared, Captain Cam-
eron,” answered Solace, coldly, turning with
disgust from the pitiable ﬁgure of his senior,
for cowardice indeed changes the handsomest
face into an abject and unsightly object ; im-
agine, therefore, its effect on Cameron’s sneak—
in countenance. For one moment he stared
wi dly at the brave outh, then a paroxysm of
fear seized him, an for etting all who were
present-his position, uty, every thing—he
raved and cursed his cruel fate in the Wildest
throes of mortal terror.

A minute’s glance was all we could vouch-
safeto this pitiable exhibition; when next we
looked in that direction he was gone. A few
minutes after, business took me forward,
where a party of our men were taking breath
A little apart
from the 3 out, weary group stood Sergeant
Green, and talking ea erly to him, with vio—
lent gesticulations and urried breathing, was
Cameron, whom I had so lately seen in a state
bordering on lunacy from intense tenor.

f‘Well, he’s better than I thought,” I ob-

, served to myself on seeing him; “he is at

least encouragin the men to work, if he won’t
do it himse ' at as I passed close behind-
him' on my errand, judge of my surprise when
Ifheard him say :

“We can get some of the men, sergeant; in
the confusion it will be easy to slip some water
and provmons on board, and then we will be
011‘ t 18 the only way to escape certain death;
mice the ﬁre. gains the powder, it is all up
withue.”

‘_‘ Ca V ” answered Green, in the same im-
pe‘rtur able tone he would have used on
parade...“ Captain,” ‘ there are many men of
ours onxboard this vessel, but I hope not one
coward; then, with a salute that I fancied, in
its exaggerated respect, expressed immeasura-

, ble contempt, he turned on. his heel-and re-

joined his comrad

.How. roudI felt of that man! I should

’ have li ed‘ to have gone over and shaken

hands with him. as I turned and hurried aft
again, to see what other work there was for

'willin'g hands. Plent‘ there was of it for everg

one ;.but in spite of ~efforts, the ﬁre seems

to gain ground. Here and there spits and
tongues of ﬂamem' t be seen shooting up
pp and gleaming redly
through the glass skyilliights let in here and
,6 volumes of smoke
unforeseen aperture, half
who might be working near. I A had forgotten
all about the scene I, had just, witnessed, when
suddenly! heard Hugh’s voice.“ i'n’a l‘oud,

 
commanding tone, prooeeding from among a
knot of men gathered near one of the boats
forward. ’

Curious to see what was the matter, and think-
ing I might be of use, I ran over. When I
reached the spot his back was towards me, and
waited to hear what might be the matter before
interfering. Two sailors, whom I recognized
as among the black sheep of the crew, were low—
erin the boat over the side, while round them
stoo a knot of men, about ten in all, some sol-
diers, some sailors, but allof them well known
tome as possessing an indifferent reputation
with their respective oﬁicers.

In the center of the group stood Hugh and
Cameron, face to face with each other. Hugh
was speaking loudly, and in an * authoritative
manner, with his head up and his eyes ﬂashing.

“I tell you, Captain Cameron,” he was say-
ing as I approached, “ that you shall not do this
thing if I can prevent it; and you,” he added,
turning to the men, “ return everyone of you
to your duty, or I shall report you to your oili-
cers. Have you no shame that you should try
to leave the ship before all hope is lost 1’ Think
of your comrades toiling till the very life is worn
out of them to save themselves and. the ship.
Are ou not ashamed to stand here concocting
a viliinous scheme that must deprive some at
least of the chance of safety if you succeed, and
that if you do not succeed will not the less cover
you. with infamy P”

“ That is all very ﬁne,” sneered Cameron, a fee-
ble spark of energy roused in him by hate and
fear; ‘ ‘ but if I prefer to saw myself rather than
stick by this cursed tub till the ﬂames reach the
powder, and if these brave fellows choose to
make an effort for their lives, none shall pre-
vent us; you, if you make another attempt to
stop us, shall be pitched into the sea; I can
promise you that much, I think.”

Hugh laughed scornfully, and springing on
the bulwarks caught hold of one of the davits to
support himself, at the same time opening a
large clasp-knife, with which he intended to out
the rope if obliged; at least, as he told me after-
ward, he intended to try and cut the rope, though
well aware that his knife was a very weak wea.
pen for such an undertaking,

As he 0 ned the knife, Cameron, goaded to
fury by thee idea that his carefully repared
scheme was about to fail through Hug ’s agen-
cy, aimed a. blow at him with all his force. In.
voluntarily I sprang forward, intending to catch
Cameron’s arm, but before I could reach him,
the blowhad been delivered; missing his mark,
Cameron overbalanced and fell heavily against
the bulwarks, cutting himself pretty severely
about the face and head. Then I caught Hugh
by the arm, and dragged him down.

“What are you about,” I said, breathlessly,
“ standing up there, where a touch would knock
you over mto the water? Lotus take that mad-
man, Cameron, and shut him up somewhere; it
will then be easy to deal with the res ”

We turned to look for himhand perceived
Solace already assisting him to rise.

“ Captain Cameron,” he said, “you don’t
know what you are doing; you are not fit to be
left alone; you must come with me and help us
to war ” . I

Cameron staggered to his feet, fairly beside
himself with rage. ' '

“ It is that follow,” he yelled, painting to
Hugh; “he is setting the men. against me. I.
will be reve edfor his cursed impudence.”

' He struggﬁad to at free from Solace, who,
however, he 6. him y, and answered:

“Captain Melton did his duty, and when m
are in your calm judgment you wlll thank
for acting as he did. N ow come with'me ; ” so
saying he went off, dragging his unmlhng supe-
rior after- him, wholturned back for one minute
to mutter a ﬁerce curse on Melton, and swear
with bitter emphasis he would be revenged. A
few sharp words dispersed the skulkers, and
then, turning again to our work, we found that
in the interim the ﬁre had been considerably

subdued, and there was now really some hope”

of saving the ship. ‘ . x ’
" ‘mated by that hope, we set to work again

V y

m

 
with a will, and in about half an hour enjoyed
the luxury of resting for a few minutes without
any fear of the ﬁre, which was now completel
quenched. I could hardly helgidll‘heughing as
surveyed severalof the‘most da ' young fol.
lows in the regiment, now looking like an assem—
blage of chimney-sweeps and coaLheavers; in-
deed, some of them were so begrimed as to be
almost unrecognizable. As to Hugh, now the
excitement was over, he looked indeed a dismal
picture; his fair hair singed, his clothes torn
and dirty, and, above all, an impatient, anxious
expression on his countenance. He smiled
faintl as he looked at me, fancying, no doubt,
that wasas queer-looking as he appeared to
my eyes; but beyond this feeble attempt at ,
merriment he seemed to make no eﬁortlto shake
off his depression, and presently be to busy
himself setting things as much to rights as cir-
cumstances permitted. , ’

Next time we were alone, however, he said,
“ Could you have believed Cameron was such a
mean-spirited ruﬁian? I never saw a more
thorough ltroon. It adds to the perplexity I
was in ore. How I am to act with regard
to that man I cannot tell. It would be better
for a woman to die than to marry a man so
utterly dead to every noble and honorable feel-
ing.” , ‘

From this remark I saw his thoughts had
again reverted to Miss Mcares, so I made no re-
ply, and he pursued the subject no farther.

Though the ﬁre placed us in rather unpleasant
circumstances, from the amount of loss it en-
tailed on many of us, and from the discomfort

of the temporary accommodations we had to 4

contrive to replace thing? destroyed, still it had
one good effect; others asides myself had 88611
Cameron’s behavior, and were no longer inclined
to pay so much attention to his insinuations
against Hugh, whose conductyhad been as wor-
thy of pride as he was of blame. _

Sergeant Green had also indulged himself in
making a ﬁne story out of Cameron’s proposition
to him and his answer, which story rapidly
spread, and soon became known to every one on
board; so that gentleman, now thoroughly
sobered by ﬁnding the estimation in which his
conduct was held, found himself presently left
pretty much to his own resources.

This ﬁre was the only event of importance that
occurred to break the monotony of our life dur.
mg the voyage out. When we arrived at the
Cape we made ourselves more comfortable, and
replaced the most necessary of those articles that
had been destroyed; but our stay. was short not-
withstanding and we were soon dancing met
the waves of the Indian Ocean on our way to
Calcutta. /

How pleased we all were when, after a fear-

fully tedious, though on the whole rapid, voyage, ’

we found ourselves at last slowly sailing u the
Hooghly, with its gay villas and shady gar ens,
presenting pleasant pictures to eyes so long
wearied by gazing over the monotonous cxpanse
of ocean I How intense was. our delight as we
once more stood on dry landl and how r. ally
enjoyable was the week We spent in Calcutta,
before proceeding up the country to the small
town of A————, where we were to be stationed!

The little town lay near the Himalayas, and '

was at this period used as an outpost, on account
of the lawless, predatory habits of some of the
mountain chieftains, which rendered the con-
stant supervision of the British government and
a tolerany powerful executive necesary.‘ ,

It was not a bad quarter, after all; and some
of us managed to make ourselves very comfort-
able. There was plenty of sport, and many a

good day Hugh and I had among the hills,

Though at the foot of the hills, our station was
intensely hot, and most tantalizing it was to see
faraway the summits of endless mountains ris-
ingfar above theother in bewildering confusion,
until their snowy eaks seemed to ierce the
blue vault above. ugh reveled in the endless
beauties they spread out before him of formand
color, while I took every, 0 portunit of gettin

a ramble over their unexp cred pa ways, wit

my gun on my, shoulder and a pleasant com-é
pamon by my side. ’ " ' ‘

u;7m,.un.mdw.hll§wv1 m. r. z»: .:  .  , -. y-

 
“ which, though it

HUGH » MELTON.

13

 
CHAPTER VI.
man’s vxsxron.

Tums are drawbacks to every place, and the
drawback to A..— was, as far as I was con-
cerned, that it did not agree With me. The
intense heat brought on a kind of low fever,

'd not quite lay me up, yet

made every pursuit, whether in connection With
my duty or otherwise, a burden to me. Our
medico assured me I should soon get over it;
in the meantime I had better keep quiet, and
avoid all exertion during the heat of the day.
. So it chanced that one day, as I was lounging
in an easy-chair by my window, getting the
beneﬁt of the cool breeze that at that hour (it
was half past seven in the evening) was begin-
ning  steal down from the mountains, I heard
a vehicle approaching the barricks. Curiosity
prompted me to raise a corner of the mat that
shaded the window and look out. My window
commanded a view of the drive up the com—
pound to the door, and I saw a kind of covered
carriage of pr? :nitive and dilapidated appearance
driving up. It stopped at the door, and then
I, still keeping myself concealed, saw seated in-
side a very handsome woman.

But who could she be coming to see? Every
one was out with the exception of myself-—
Hugh sketching, a. lot of the others shooting,
and Cameron, I thought, visiting. As for me,
I had never s:t eyes on this, lady before; so
certainly her visit was not intended for me. I
did not hear for whom she asked, but in a few
minutes Cameron appeared, and then I saw I

- had been mistaken in supposing him away. He

.lonrrel to a Ildy.

hand-d her out, and before she disappeared with
him through the doorway I obtained even a
bettcr'view of her than I had at ﬁrst been able
to do.

She was tall, with a perfect ﬁgure, which
was disgﬁaycd to the greatest advantage by a
light mu Ala dress, over which, was thrown
careless; a magniﬁcent black lace shawl, that
rath.,r inﬂamed than concealed the effect.

‘ In Stcpplglg out of the carriage she displayed

a slender ioot, with an instep arched as that
of an Arab, while the hand that rested un-

' gloved on his arm was small and white, the

taper ﬁngers sparkling with jewels. A per-
foot hand it was, and you would have said,
had you not seen the face, it must have be-
As to her face, it was glori-
ously‘beautiful, complete in every feature, and
wanting only the nameless charm of reﬁne-
ment, without which beauty is to some minds
valueless. Imagine abroad white brow, with
penciled eyebrows of the most perfect form
surmounting eyes large and dark as a gazelle’s ;
a peach-like bloom on her cheeks sot oﬂ’ the

_ clear olive complexion ; while hervlmouth would

have, been lovein showing, as it did, when she
smiled tie most perfect teeth, had it not been
for the indescribable expression, more visible
in the mouth than elsewhere, that we call want
of reﬁnement—imagine such a face surrounded
by a profusion of raven hair, which was orna-
mented with the daintiest tulle bonnet, the
head set gracefully on the most gueenly form,
and you will have some idea 0 the personal
apgarance of Cameron’s str. nge visitor.

she entered the doorway she spoke, and
her veice sounded soft and sweet, “ that most
excellent thing in a woman,” as it reached me;
while her laug'i, in answer to some remark of
Cmucron’s, Wm clear and silvery {very pleasant
to listen to, I bought, as I lay back in my
chair thinking,' of that perfect face, and de-
eming that w.iatcver want of reﬁnement it in-

dicated, it must be in mind‘and not in manner.

as, her voice and laugh convinced me that out—
ward! at least she was all a lady ought tube,
I lay. ﬂy in my chair by the Open window,
liﬁtﬁning dreamin to the bum I ofwoices, in
Wronls room, next mine, and feelm a kind
91'. “8116 Pleasure in the sound of low ughter

stole-gout now and then on the evening

4 e T.
“Weme they moved neartbe window, which
was [beside’miua not more than a yard distant
utmost, aud‘Ixhem-d the woman's voice as , in
persuast accents that I am sure would ve
ound their way round any man’s heart : .

a

 
E

“ And now, dear, tell meall about this Maud
Meares, that some one said you were going to
m . I only laughed w en I heard it; I
coul ’t doubt you ; still I thought when I
saw you I would ask about it.”

As the name of Cameron’s betrothed fell on
my ears I began to listen attentively ; in fact,
the whole sentence was so extraordinary, and
this fascinating being’s relation to Cameron
seemed so equivocal, that I had little diﬂiculty
in persuading myself that for Miss Meares’s
sake, even if not for Hugh’s, I was quite right
to play the part of eavesdropper. Besides, I
argued, if I ﬁnd there is nothing wrong, it
cannot matter my having listened or not. If,
on the contrary, there is anything not quite
as it ought to be, the sooner it is found out
and that fellow’s little game put a stop to the
better. Drawing my easy-chair, therefore,
nearer to the window, and leaning a little out-
side, I prepared myself for what, even when
making the best of it, I felt it to be not an hon-
orable occupation.

Cameron laughed a little at her question, and
answered in a more cynical manner than I could
have fancied any man would have used to such
a woman: - .-

“ You were right not to mind what any fol-
low might report about me. You know we
are married; so you are safe whatever may
happen, though no one knows how we stand
with regard to one another. You have kept
our secret, I hope ?” he added, with some stern-
ness.

“ Indeed, Edward, I have,” she replied, ear-
nestly, “ though why I should do so I can’t see.
And when I hear such things said of you I
do long to hold up my head boldly, looking
people in the face, as I have a right to do, and
saying, ‘ Your stories are false ; I am his wife,
and no woman shall come between us while I
llvc.’ ” « I '

“Well, well,” he answered, in an impatient,
bored manner~for which I felt it in my heart to
kick him, so much had my sympathies been
enlisted by the sweet wifer words and tender
caressing manner of the beautiful stranger—
“ you know I don’t like dcclamation or heroics;
they bore me ; and you are gettin a little into
that style now and then. Try and at out of it,
dear. As to why our marriage should be kept a
secret, I told you long ago that my embarrass-
ments would not permit me to declare it; as to
this report, why, you must encourage it as much
as you can, as at present it is my only help in
keeping my head above water. The Jews will
wait, in hopes of reaping a golden harvest when
it comes 011’, as this Miss Meares is a great heir-
ess. Ind god, I have been thinking that it would

not be a bad move for either you or me could it

be accomplished.” .

There was a pause after this sentence, during
which interval of silence a feeling of horror stole
over me of this fair, calmJooking man, with his
quiet, gentle ways, his smooth, persuasive voice,
and his womanish attention to personal appear-
ance, who concealed a soul so vile, a mind so
base, as not only to plan such a scheme, but to
dare to talk over it boldly and gopenly with his
young wife. ‘

The dead silence was at last broken by that
sweet voice, saying, in a hesitating tone that
told an eloquent tale of horror, astonishment
and pain:

“.1._1~.don‘t quite understand you, Ed
word, I think. Surely I can't have heard
aright l” _ ' '

“Oh, yes, quite r1 ht.” he answered, with a,
laugh that sounds unplemwtly sneer-111g,
“You needn’t look shocked; no harm can
come to you whatever]: do. Remember you
are quite safe, and don’t trouble your head
about this Miss Moares,who is, after all,- the
only one to be pitie’d. What I want you to
do is this : I am engaged to marry this Miss
Hearse—have been so, in; fact, since we: were
children—4nd had; no right to. marry, you.
Now if you are, onlquise and keep” ~ our secret,
what is to prevent‘my marrying this girl in
 and ? I shall never bring her out here,
an her money will enable me to ive you
those luxuries I have so longed washed to
shower upon the only woman I ever met who

I fore me as the husband of the

if she can care»er

 
had suﬂ‘lcient attraction for me to induce me
to forego the brilliant future 0 d out be»
eiress hiaud
Mears. It is only my love for you that makes
me desire this. Other men can adorn those
they love with jewels and costly garments, an
I would like to do my beautiful darling, while
I, with all the aﬁ‘oetion I feel for you, have
never been able to give ou more than those
few paltry trinkets that ook so unworthy the
beauty they adorn. And it willnotharm Miss
Meares either. No one will know of your ex.
istence, and she will certainly have the best of
the position as my wife. After all, in other
countries men may have more wives than one,
though our stupid laws are against it. Still. I
don’t see the harm if it can be managed.”

He laughed sneeringly and brutally as he
ﬁnished, but a low wailing cry from his wife
interrupted him.

“ Oh, Edward, Edward, don’t so.
What is the matter with you to-day
you know that 1you are proposing a fearfu
crime ? If you ove me, ow can you think
for a moment of marrying this other woman,
and letting her usurp my rightful place, no
matter how great her Wealth ? And if you do
not love me, or have found the love of your
childhood dearer and sweeter than mine, how
have you foresworn yourself and deceived me!
Tell me, what is she like, this English heiress,
with a store of gold vast enough to buy men’s ,
affection, or at least the semblance of it ?”

The piteous tone died out of her voice sashes"
asked this last question in eager jealousaecents
thin: quivered, in spite of a brave effort to be.
ca 111. '

“ What is she like ?’.’ he asked, lazily; .and I
heard him strike a fuses, preparatory to ' t-
ing a cheroot. “ Well, that is a more sensible
question than that edy—queen performance
you began with, so I’ answer it. Let me see,
she is small and slight ; .a beautiful little
ﬁgure ; very fair,.,. with lots of lovely golden
hair, all in loose waves like yours, but the
most delicious gold-color. Indeed, her whole
coloring is very brilliant and delicate, quite
like one of the dainty litile ﬁgures one sees
sometimes in Sevres china. As a rule, heir—-
cases are ugly and vulgar-looking, but she’s a. '
remarkable exception to the rule 1”

He ceased speaking with the same lazy sang-
froid; but she went on passionately :—

“ 0h, why did you ever tell me you loved me I
Your heart is with this blonde'beauty, hour to
a happier fate than mine; for you love her, as 1
she doubtless loves you, but not as I loved
—-—not as I love you,” she corrected herself—-“I,

a child of this burning climate, with warmer
love and ﬁercer hate, more intense aﬂ’ections, '
more cruel jealousy, than her cold Northerunap,
ture can feel. .. Was not my future dark enough, ,
Without my paltry beauty catching your idler
fancy, to be the toy of a ﬂeeting ssion, and.
to be ﬂung aside when you weari of it 1’"
“ Hush l” he said, impatiently, interrupting?
her. “ Now you are raving, and makmg' a 1001
of yourself besides. If, as you elegantly axe
press it, you were the toy of a ﬂeeting passion,"
you would not be m wife; and that you are
certainly, though per aps now I might be as
well pleased if I had not been in such} hurry
to put the noose round my neck. As to my
loving her, believe me,dearest,you are ath'ousand.
times sweeter and more charmingto me than
any other woman who ever breathed. ' ‘I don’t
care a ﬁg for her, but I want her money; and
as for her, I don’t think she likes me. though 1 ;
believe she trio’s to persuade herself she does; 4'
and I am pretty sure she caresagooddeal fer _
gist hang-dog fellow, Hugh Melton,  ,
iml” v r u  . J ' :
» " Then, Edward  ” said ~ ‘  ,
8- 0811116? “lice: “110V Oangyou wistl}:1 

that 3
Don’t

bothherandme? Of myself  ,l ‘

ing; you-must know allI bench as nomad
I; butanlythinkOf her. What haiﬁe" "

girl done that this: Sinand shame shoulgg'
brought upon her? Isothermal“ 

him after being engag to .
you. Are you sure she doesn’t love you?” 
added. _ “Areyouionlytelling me 'tliatlabeat
the other man to turn my suspicions aside, bun-

 
 _ .A , ,

 
1d

HUGH MELTON.

 
cause you love her yourself? Swear to me you

are telling me the truth. Only a little while
ago, and I should not have asked you to swear——
I should have believed your word; but now you
are so strange I almost fear you. Why did you
tell me all this, and say those dreadful things?
I know you were only trying me, but I can’t
bear it. Promise me not to talk so any more,
won’t you ?” '

With the most coaxing and persuasive voice,
in which there was still a tremor of fear and
passion, she uttered these words, and I could
fancy how, as she said it, her white hands
wound themselves around his neck, and her
Beautiful lustrous eyes looked pleadineg up into

is.

But blandishments and prayers were alike

wasted on him; he had begun his subject, and
, lie-meant to go through with it ; he continued, '

therefore: »

‘,‘ The reason she don’t marry Hugh Melton is
that he is a beggar, with nothing but his pay,
and her ﬁne fortune goes to the dogs, or some-
where equally satisfactory, if she does not marry
me, and marry her I will. I am going home in
a year’s time to do it; so I would advise you
to keep quiet, _madam, and not Spoil my little
game, or it will be the worse for you.”

“ But I will spoil it,” she cried, “ I will spoil
it. Do you think I will stand by quietly and see
you ruin another life as you have ruined mine ?
Is it not enough for one woman to have married
a villain, who will darken her future life by the
curse of an unrequited affection, without anoth-
er being dragged down by the same man to a

darker misery, a deeper shame? No ;' I have
' here the copy of my marriage register; I always

carry it with me, as a precious treasure at ﬁrst,
henceforth as asafeguard against treachery. Oh,
Edward, I thought you loved me ? Say you
will give up all thoughts of Miss Meares ;'I will
forgive you every thing, for I love you still:
even though you had perpetrated the deed you
threaten, ﬂeaven help me, I believe I should
love you even then.;’ '

f“ Where did you get that copy of the regis-
ter. ?" was all the answer he vouchsafed to her
paSsionate appeal.

‘.,‘ You know,” she answered—and there was a
sound of coming tears in her plaintive voice—
“ I got the copy the day we were married at St.
Margaret?s inGalcutta. Don’t you remember ?
And you laughed at me, and called me a goose.
Oh, in'those days, Edward, you did love me,
say what you will. Why can you not do so
again i”

“ Show .me that,”,‘he answered, laughing.
“Who, said I didn’t love .you ? I do, dearly ;
but then you must let me show it in my own

L > way, and that’s by making you as rich as I can.

Yes; the copy’s all correct," he continued, from
which I knew she had given it to him, as desired.

' The next minute I heard a fuses struck, then a
u quick, sharp cry in the woman’s voice, a sound

as of some one springing rapidly forward, and
then, in Cameron’s cynical sneering tones,
“Too late, my clear; that little relic will
never comfort you or trouble me again; and
perhaps you were not aware that the greater
part ofSt. Margaret’s was burned down about

, two months ago, and the vestry, with the books
‘ in it, was burned along with the rest.”

' No clamorous outcry

, no passionate burst of

weeping, followed this dastardly «act; for a few

seconds the silencewas so dead that I almost
thoughtsho must have» fainted; but hardly was
thisidea formed than it was again dispelled by

' hearing her moan, in a broken plaintive voice

thatytotdof more heartfelt Suffering than the

museums:

“Oh, EdWard, how could you do that!' My
pnly  andI am your wife—you know

“I never disputed that fact,” he ansWered,
im'high, 3 humor, ‘j‘ nor shall I as long as
you, keep quiet, andgletwno. one know of your
relation to me; but 11"]: and . you troublesome,
you  without  proofs, remember, and I
shall-remember that also; .sorbeware, for no

L -  given to your assertion ~1,111,,M,k9d

his  , 
/*  home. every  avg”; I. 4 .

 
sneer, quietly hitherto, but now her spirit rose
up against her tyrant and tormentor, the man
who, alas for her! she yet loved; she turned
on him with deﬁant words and a tone almost
of hate vibrating in her voice; there was no
quick—drawn breath, so sobbing sound, such as
other women would have been unable to re-
strain ; quietly and distinctly, one by one, her
words fell on the soft evening air.

“Very well,” she said, “let this be a bargain
between us; I will say nothing, and keep out
of sight and notice as long as you desire, there-
by proving myself willing to obey you as a wife
should. But if you go near this woman, this
heiress, with words of love that belong only of
right to me—if you, who are bound both by
the laws of God and man to me, dare to speak
of marriage to her—I swear that I will follow
you, even though I had to beg my bread by the
way; .I would follow you across the ocean that
would then separate us, and into her stately
home, to expose you in your right character,
and to proclaim my rights before all men.
Heaven help me then 1—1, who loved you when
I thought you faithful, tender, and noble above
all men; I, who love you still, when I know
you viler than the vilest pariah in the empire——
for then your spirit, cold and cruel as it is
now, will turn tenfold more against me,
and I shall fall a victim to your hate, as I
did when I married you to your pretended
love.”

She paused, overcome by the vlolence of her
emotion; for as' she had continued speaking,
more passion, more intense misery, were he-
trayed by her tone; and be, without waiting
for her to continue, if she had intended to do
so, went on; .

“ Very well done indeed, Julia. I should
advise you, instead of begging your bread when
you want to raise the wind, to take tothe tragic
stage; you would bring down the house if you
looked and acted '1ike that; in the meantime
it is waste of talent to declaim. at me any
longer; besides, it is getting late, and those
fellows will be coming back. You put up at
Booderabab, don’t you? Stop there for a day
or two, and I will go over and see you.
Wait, you must have something to eat before
you go, you look really tired. I am afraid
after all, you haven’t strength for a tragedy
queen ; you would get done up in no time.”

Talking in this half-sneering, half-affectionate
manner, I heard him moving about the room,
and presently ordering some refreshment to be
brought up. In the meantime I was told my
horse was waiting for me (I was in the habit of
riding at this hour), and though longing to hear
if anything more of interest would pass be—
tween this curious couple, I thOught it best to
go out, consoling myself by reﬂecting that I
knew all it was necessary I shOuld know.
Hardly thinking of where I was going, I turned
my pretty Arab’s head in the direction of Bood-
erabad, and set off at a rapid pace. It was my
object to get as much exercise that evening into
as short a space of time as possible, so I gave
my little stead his head, and away he went
through the deepening gloom attthe rate of a
fox-hunt. ,

It was a pretty hilly road, shadowed on either
side by groves of stately trees, interspersed with
the little gardens attached to the huts of the na—
tives. Not a very lonely road either, as it was
a favorite resort with the residents of the little
town of A“; and for a mile or two I met no
end of .eople I knew. At last the road became
more diaserted, and I fell into deep thought
about what I had just heard, The moon rose red
and full-in the heavens; my little Arab, with
praisew attention to his own; interests,
slackened his pace,gradually dropping into a
walk; but I neither saw nor felt‘ anything. I
thou ht only with impotent anger of Cameron’s
bru 'ty, ,and of the lovely and tender woman
whom a cruel fats-had placed so completely in
his power. I wished much that I knew her, and
cos d oﬁ’er her counsel and advice; I fancied,
with a friend to protect herand‘support her-tin.
terests, she would be able to make better terms
with her ruﬂianly husband. . My chance was

nearerthsnl expected. WhileIr-odeonthoughtq

 
fully, pondering on the ways and means of mak.
ing her acquaintance, a rumbling noise in the
distance, and an uneasy motion on the part of
my. horse, roused me out of my reverie, and
obliged me to concentrate my attention on what
then came under my eyes. . _

Before me the road took a sudden bend, fol-
lowing the course of the river, along the banks
of which it ran. There Was no parapet or wall
of defense between the road and the river, only
the smooth edging of greensward, and the water
just there looked deep and dark. _ The moon
had risen bright and full; it was by its light I
made these observations; but nothing lay before.
me that could account for the restlessness mani-
fested by my horse. The rumbling noisecon—
tinned, and seemed to approach nearer, coming
from behind. I turned and gazed back over the
road I had traveled, gleaming white in the moon-
light, and presently fancied I could discern a
dark object moving along it with considerable
velocity. Prompted by curiosity I turned and
rode to meet it; but I had hardly gone a few
yards when I became aware that the dark ob-
ject was a carriage bearing down on me with
the rapidity of lightning. . A glance sufﬁced to
show that the horse was running away. Indeed,
I found out afterward that the drchr had been
smoking opium, and when the horse took fright
he was incapable of either managing it or keep-
ing his seat, and fell off into a heap of dust by
the roadside, where he was found next day fast
asleep and quite comfortable.

Though I was not at the ﬁrst minute aware
there was no driver, yet I saw plainly that unless
help was speedily rendered, carriage, Occupants
and horse must all go into the ﬂux, which was
deep enough there to make the mere idea of
such a contingency unpleasant. I turned, there-
fore, and as the runaway approached, put my
little Arab into a brisk center, increasing gradu-
ally to a quicker pace: when the vehicle came
up with me, I, galloping beside the horse, seized
his rein. We were now so close to the river,
going so fast and so straight at it, that there
was no possibility of our stopping before we
should get to the brink. However, by a great
exertion of strength, and thanks tothe excellent
training of my steed, we swung round the curve
of the road so close to the water that. the out.
side wheel musthave been on the verge of the
bank. That danger past, I breathed freely;
and although it took me some time to stop the
furious animal, I succeeded at last, and when
he was fairly at a stand, it seemed to me hewas
not likely to run away again soon. He, was
covered with foam from head to foot, racking
with sweat, and seemed ‘ so done up that his.
limbs trembled under him. He was not a bad»
looking beast, and I dare say when fresh had a.
temper of his own, which accounted for the
scene in which I had just played a part. Leav-r
ing my gallant little Sultan at liberty, but still:
holding fast the reins of the runaway, .1 ap--
proached the door of the vehicle. It was one
of those curious covered conveyances with our--
tains drawn all round, resembling the ambas
of the Turkish Women, and it Seemed somehow
familiar to my eyes. Yes, as I looked at it '
again, I became convinced that it was the same
curious vehicle that had excited my Wonder
that evening as it drove up to the barrackm
With more eagerness than I had yet felt, I ap—
proached the curtained aperture that served“ for
a door, and drawing back the screen peered
anxiously in. I had hardly look in when a dark
form bent forward from the interior, and said,
in Hindoostanee :' j ~

“ Are we safe, Mahmoud 1’ What was the
matter 7 I thought we should have been kills " >

The voice was the same sweet voice I had.
heard in Cameron’s room, but it trembled now
a littlefrom fear, as it then had from assioar -
It was evident she did not know that or ser.
vant had? been to blame, and also that he had
disap d~where or how I could not. at that
time tell. I stepped back a little to letthe
moonlight stream into the carriage, and an- '
swersd:  t '. .

“Mahmoud is not here, madam; I am a_

stranger I happened to be ‘ 

 enough to be able to stopyour horse, '

 
HUGH MELTON.

15

 
which was running away. Where your driver
can be I am unable to imagine, but I hope you
will allow me to assist you in any way you may
desire. If you will tell me where you live, I
will conduct you heme." '

She seemed frightened on hearing a strange

voice, and at ﬁrst shrank back into the dark,

recesses of the carriage; as I went'on, however,
curiosit mastered fear, and I could see her lean
forwar eagerly to catch sight of my face in the
moonlight. \ I bore her scrutiny calmly, though
it, was long and keen; indeed, I was beginning
to feel uncomfortable, not knowing what to say
next, when she answered: “ I willtrust you; I
think I may; your face looks kind, and I havo
no oneah’ere to help me. Ido not live near
here, but I am staying at Booderabad. I am
stopping in one of the bungalows on this side
of the: town; Mrs. Camden’s. You can ask
some one to direct you to it whenwc get near
there, if it is not troubling you too much to ask
you to drive me.” C ' ; -
“Not any trouble at all; I  be most
happy,” I answered, though wondering a little
how on earth I was to get back to As:— that
night, andthinking what a rowaAli (my syce)
Would make, when his pet, Sultan, did not
return "at the usual time. However, the lady
Seemed to have nothing farther to say; so I got
‘intommy' saddle again, and started the jaded
steed on its homeward road'in a broken sham.
blihg trot. A weary ride that was to me, at
ﬁrst ﬂog ' g the tired brute till I was in awhite
heat an completely exhausted; thenat length

 along at a foot-pace, scolding, coaxing,

and-otherwise encouraging the animal, that all
the time paid no attention to my blandishments,
but, chose his own pace with‘a sublime disregard
of any convenience but his owu. Ten w
miles we thus: passed over before reaching the
little ' town of Booderabad. The moon was
setting, itwas about one o’clock in the morn-
ing; in another two hours people would be
bestirring themselves ;- but in the meantime
here we were at Boodcrabad, and no one could
be. seen either to guide me to Mrs. Camden’s,
or, after I arrived there, to tell me where I
might ﬁnd a place to rest myself and horse be-
fore-morning. At this moment the curtain at
‘ the door“ of the carriage was drawn back and
the lady looked out, trying in the dim light to
.make out the bungalow to which she wished to
be.driven.; , .

,Mter: severelwrong turns and bewildering
mistakes we at lastarrived at the-r5. ht house,
where, however, we were kept near y half an

hour  before any one came to let us in. _
The lady- before going in, thanked me, in the

mostearnest manner for the service I had been
able meander her, andwhen she entered I de-
h;mn3dﬂl6 vehicle and horse to the servant, and
followed him with my own, inhopes of ﬁnding
 where Imi'ght put up. As I expected,

was not Quite an «fortunatewtthse

corms V g; almighthave been
 however,~and.besides was tired; so

that I was soon  asleep, and forgot for a.

timethe  discoveries of the day i and
Ali’s enriches at my non-appearance.

 
,  I.
 ._  awokethe next day   too
 for me tothink ofreturnmg until the even.

   
,4 a
before-returme AM. 'At about
 a the bungalow where um

_ “>L,

 
before;  I was not kﬁptweiﬁnga- 1"
“Rename  - ‘3' 03mm”
   who, though ore‘oum' I did
 ,....,

Y near; a ? dew,  embroidering ,
~ monapiece ofsilk. She looked‘thomugmi

 
.gaccemmodaticn' for any horse at the
stablewhmthe vehicle  been hired, but:
A c . . M40 my?
someon- woefully-Man hour later before I
foundmyselt housedat lastin a hot andfnot

7 rag-I'aocordingiy determinede call  ina
 are: my acquaintance of: the, previous-

“ therefore, I, forth, and soon;
,foreolong in vain  t

was. reclining on a sofa
‘ ﬂows .

 
worn out by her long vigil of the past, night,
and I thought there was a more heart-broken
expression inher paleface than could be ac-
counted for by any, one who had not overheard,
as I had done, her yesterday’s dialogue with
her brutal husband. - ,

She seemed pleased to see me, and roused
herself into something like animation, while
she thanked me again fervently for may assist-
anoe the night before. After she had done, I
ventured to ask her name, saying that I hoped
she would excuse my taking such a liberty in
consideration of the services she was pleased to
say I had rendered her. At this she colored
violently, and ﬁdgeted nervously with the work
she still held in her ﬁngers; but at length re-
plied: “ I cannot tell you how sorry I am not
to be able to answer your question; one, too,
which I think you have quite aright to ask, after
having been put to so much inconvenience and
trouble by me. It is not my secret, howover;
itis ray—husband’s.” She paused before say-
ing the last word, and added it in so low, a tone
that Icouldhardly catch it. 1, x r .  _

. I was now quiteat a loss how to proceed; for
you may well imagine I had come to. call with
the:qu intention of telling Mrs. Cameron all
that I hadoverheard, andalso that I intended to
repeatiit‘ to 7 both Hugh Melton and Miss Meares.
WheniI saw- her in her pale fragile beauty be—
fore ‘me, looking so sad and sorrowful, -I felt
almost as if I should be committing a crime by
saying anything’to agitateand annoy her; yet I
knew that‘it must bev'doney'an’d that it would
be better: for herto know the worst, that she
might prepare’herself for meeting her husband
when he should know his wicked plans ' were
discovered. I I therefore Continued in- as cool
and unconcerned manner as I could assume:
“ It does not matter; I‘ only asked «‘for form’s
sake, as I know your name, Mrs. Cameron.”

' ‘She started violently as I pronounced her
name, and turned on me a white, despairing
face as she exclaimed: “ You know it! How
did you discover it? Oh, for heaven’s sake tell
no one! What shall I do? He will never for.
give me i” y '

She did not cry hysterically or loudly;- but I
could see from the trembling of her Slender ﬁn-
gers as she pressed her handkerchief to her- eyes
that her grief was more intense and painful than
more noisily expressed emotion. I tried to
comfort her as best Icould, saying that it was
from her husband quite as much as from here

self‘I  heard it, and that, I, should not have

mentioned my V, discovery to her, knowing well
her. desire to keep J it secret, only for the fact
that I was bound to tell it to my‘jriend, Captain
Melton,th was interested very: nearly in the
matter, and to Miss Meares, whom ‘ Captain

Cameron-had designed to be‘ the suﬁerer leg  P
' crime. ‘ chOnd nus» three "the story shoal not

go, and Captain Cameron might feel himself
perfectly safe if only he would renounce his

esi . I then went on toexplain how I be»,
came acquainted with the fact of her relation

to Captain Cameron, at ﬁrst hearing without '

o

intending, afterward glistening: long and rear-

neatly from design; my «motive I considered

beingsuchasfto absolve7me of all wrongdoing
in the ' On hearmg how I became so.
quainted With-her story all traces or grief and
sorrow were for a. moment smothered in the

ﬁerce blaze of resentment and scorn with which

she turned on  _ » -. 2 , ‘
“Isvpit possible,” she saxd,‘fronting me with
' eyesiand‘ crimson checks, “that you,

yoazrhave been base enough. to-playth’e part of a '

spy on two goople in no way cascaded-rim
you, and vi no object if I shoiﬂd. not have
thought such meanness possible had yoanot‘
.acousedyourselfa” ' Mobs spoke she rose, and
“turnedtoleate the room.» , , _ s : .2
' :“Sta' one moment and hear-me,“ I cannot“
ed. '“ on say I played the part of a spy with-3“

“out an object. ~ (in  you are mistaken, and it

  object to you  men.
tioned the subjectetslh 'vThe-Vhonor and-e hep-
pinmeg menace ermine. one  dearer
to me than? anything  ' on thinnest; h, are in;
   this 
sides, had some faint hope I might have been

:as only such bold natures can lo _
world at deﬁance and obtain his love,  of“ -

 
a friend to you, and by my knowledge of the
fact as it is have stood between you and your
husband’s wrong-doing ?” V p '

“ Who are you,” she answered, haughtily,
“ to accuse my husband of wrongdoing ? A1.
low me to be the judge of that. ' As to your
friends, I suppose you love Miss Meares, from
what you say, or perhaps her money, and would
be glad, by mar-ring Captain Cameron’s chance,
to secure your own. ”

This was too much, and I began to feel angry;
but by a violent eﬁort succeeded in preserving
my composure. . ‘ _

.“So be it,” I anstered; “if you  the
case stands thus I shall not contradict you, as
surely you must see that even if I only married
her for her money, it would be better and
pier far I should do so than that she should fall
a victim to Captain Cameron’s criminal 
I cameto you today with the intention of en—
treating you to join me in defeating them. If
you have a woman’s heart you will 'surelysid
me in saving this hapless girl, ‘Whose vast Wealth
has as yet only served to render her 9;,”mark' fer
the machinations of scheming f  . As
for me, if you think I design to,,.proﬁtby:any
assistance you might render to break-oi ,her
engagement to Captain Cameron,5 1.;  Win—
$11eg prmn’iseonce she knows all nevervrto. see

or a , » - ( 3 
“ Then,” she said. with wide, astonished
eyes, “ you do not love her? Are you not Cap-

tain ,Melton, of whom I have heardcaptain.

Cameron speak ?”_ _ ,  », ,
“No, indeed,”I answered; ﬁ‘heis 1 efriendv

cf whom I spoke, as dear to mg agmy 

life; it is, for his happiness]: not, my own,,I
solicit your help. surely,,you willinot refuse
myrequest.” I I, ~ ,    

“ And does he love the girl?” she asked, in a
dreamy, irrelevant, manner, as though she had
onlyhalfheard my answer. ,_ m ;_/_ ' ‘

“He does,” I replied, “as you love Edward
Cameron, as you once fancied he loved ' you.”
I thought I saw signs of relenting in her mood
as she stood, half turned, away from me, in a
pensive attitude, evidently pondering allashe
had just heard. « _

“ In that case he will deceive her and  L

her miserable, as Edward has done mart she
answered, impulsively; then, seeing she 
made an admission she never intended to have
made, she went on with the view of «3th
the subject: “ Why do you love Captain » e1.
ton so clearly ‘Pa Is he nobler and wines: and
truer than other men ? y- He should be to merit
Your devotion.”_ ' r -1 _, . i'    ,: ‘

- ‘ “ lie  that, and more, " I replied, eagerly,
feelingthat I had, without knowing it, touched
some hidden chard in her heart, and man to
' ursue‘any advantage; “he is a man whose life

is noble‘and upright before the world, generous

and tender to his friends, who has helped many
a wandering soul back into thv right path, 
who, even in his conduct toward, your buy

band, hisfvahhas shown:  worthy of

“Then he cannot love her,” she!

quickly,- “or, noble though he might 
weald have stood his   ‘” , so;
heragamst‘ ‘ allcomers," ‘theyfwho’they  to I

110th ' ‘ and in spite =bf<anywprevioua
engagements. , cannot feel pityl’oriyonr 
he has cold-blooded, cold-hearted lover, notono
who would serve for the woman he loved'through

life to death, as true ‘love'ishOuld, overbearing ,

enamel-coming“ allfobstaoles."
“That'is one",'kind‘0f love,”'I answ ‘_

moved in spite of myself by her earnestness;

“and do notthink but that a manlikemyfriend,
ardent, passionate, impulsive, must have 
her parents” wishes,_her pli htedhoth,’  { and,th
own qualms of conscience? I But-  a an»
other nobler and purer love " , i I . ,
zit—79. love that desires the good the beloved
as so sus-  new
L ,ay 6 _ py.’ T .,‘ "
hopes  perhaps,  'ng
in yielding to Gamer-en’s clean; but how can}.

knowing what I know, allow him to continue in,

The _

you know ~

heacted iorhergood.”

 
‘ self-

, his witcand endeavored to elite:
. . “Daron

Hum! .‘rllfL 7105‘.

 
. —_.

 
this belief, when surel sooner or later. the truth
will come to light, he will see that far from
securing her happiness he has only brought
about her shame? .They were made for each
other. Think what happiness youf may confer
on them by standing forward now and releasing
them from their selffimpcsed misery 

 As I ceased spealdng' she turned toward me
with‘a smile.

“I have heard of Creates and Pylades,” she
said, “but never could form any idea of what
their freindship was like until now ; but for the
sake of argument we will suppose for a moment

what, remember, I have never‘ admitted) that

main Cameron is my husband. Am I to pre-
Ier the happiness of , these two stran era to my
husband’s good? . I think your creel? somewhat
curious. I am to be faithful to the cause of true
love as exem liﬁed by this interesting couple,
while to m ove for in own husband I ma be
"falcons ' lease.” 8 e pausedherc, the ush
dying out her cheeks; then, with a face set
and as ﬁght as marble, she went on: “But I
entirely deny the truth of what you have over-
beard, and in support of what I say I refertyou
to Captain Gamma himself, who will doub ess

' your mind upon that matter."

As she ﬁnished 8 eaking she tottered a few
paces forward, grep n like a blind person for
some support on wh ch to lean, and had I
not mug t her smiled her to the sofa she
would. have fallen.

I felt that I could do nothing more than I
had done, and that the r lady was too much
troubled to hear anything more on that sub—
ject ; I therefore turned to summon an attend-
ant with whom I mi ht leave her, when, coming
withhiausualnoise eeacahlikesteptlirough the
open doorway, I‘ beheld Captain Cameron him-
self. . As yet his wife had not perceived him,
and for screened or two we stood looking at
each other without moving or utter-in a word,
so completely were we taken aback. ameron’s
ion never deserted him for long,
Meyer, and after the ﬁrst startled pause he

4‘ How did you become acquainted with this
led , Cairnsford? I wasrnot aware that she
Mutiny friends in our regiment except my-

As he spoke he advanced and held out his
hand with a coolness and ease of manner that
would have them: any one not acquainted
with the facts of the case 011‘ the scent.

It was no good my beating about the bush.
I knew he was sure to ﬁnd out from his wife
the extent of my knowl e the minute I had
left; I therefore answer him boldl :

, . "Iliad the pleasure of making Cam-

 ij2, “We yesterday evening, as she
was

“1 mtA—. I was net aim-e
 ' yesterday . you. were mamed' 4; al-
ways {cycled you were engaged to Miss

’ When Is‘polie of Mrs. Cameron he started

visibly, and a look came over his face I thought
it just esvwell she. did not see, her face being '

covered with her hands ; but as I went on, in.
tending tovocmpletc his dileomﬁture by the
mention of Miss Macros, he recovered himself,

and I found that. as man others havedone,‘
I had,  the cﬁ‘ect o my speech by any.
‘ , tooimuch. instead of adding to its force,

as had intended

“Why, Cairnsfor , who won d
t you soft enough to believe

{inch 9. story? » atcyou so about Miss Meares'
on

Is ,rfectly true, there ore, on see, I can-
I; have a wife already. thong you are so
blinders to present to mepne as lovely as the
lag  us." , , '

a is in g 3,» cynical ,manner and jeering
senile , i no. Ifelt somehow that this
man, who hot-truth or good intentions'on
‘Ihisside, wasmore than a- match for me, though
 doing what I thought right to the best
of’my ability. . Emerated beyond all bonnds
of circumpoctwn and aelfmntrol, I turned to
'n her witness.
, hear. Mrs. Gamma” I said, “ what
this man, your husband: says r Your lot is iii-4

 sad; but consider how much more terri-

' 'wife l”he.said, laughing scornqu ,'

ble it'will be ityou allow him to work, out his
villainous scheme, and bring dishonor not on
you alone, buton others. Do not be afraid to
speak the truth bold! ; I will protect you, and
see that no harm sh l befall you from his baf-
ﬂed rage.” . »

“ Oaimsford, you areymadl” said Cameron,
interrupting her, as she raised her head from
her hands and turned toward me about to speak.
“ You have been deceived by appearances
though how a man of the world like you could
have been so deceived I don’t know. I have
known this lady since she was a child, certainly ;
indeed, hei- futher on his death-bed commended
her to my care, I being the only friend that re.
mained to him; but it is false that she is my
wife, as, whatever interest the pitiful circum-
stances in which she was left may have inspired
in me, I could not consent to give up my bril-
liant respects and forego my mania c with
Miss cares, whose fortune, after all, isonly a
small rt of her attractions. And new, 1331
have one my best to explain the matter to you,
I will not detain you any longer.” He looked
toward the door as he ﬁnished this speech in
his easy, ’impudent manner; but I pretended
not to ear him, and turning to the lady said:

-“ Mrs. Cameron, have you nothing to say to
all this ?”

Then she rose and stepped forward a paceor
two, looking bewildered, like one in adream.
At last with an elicit she spoke, and her voice
though low was clear, as she said:

“Why do you torture me farther ? Have I
not told you that whatever Captain Cameron
tells you of me you must believe? Was it only
to force me to acknowledge in misery that you
saved, me last night from o waters of the
Boodra ? You meant well, no doubt, but you
have only caused me anguish and shame. Cap
tain Cameron’s explanation you must except as
the sim le truth, and do not think me ungrate-
ful if I g that our acquaintance may come to
an end from this moment.” As she ﬁnished
speaking she threw herself once more on the
couch, and accrued no longer to be aware of our
presence.

Cameron laughed lightly.

“Julia, you see, is a woman of good sense,
and she knows she cannot lay claim to the
sition your kni t-erranti'y would place her in.
You understan Cairnsford, that though I do
not intend to quarrel with goo this time, I don’t
like this kind of thing, an must beg you will
not repeat it. I do believe that mad fehow Mel-
ton put youup to it; it is like his confounded
impudence, and I know he is dying to cheat me
out of the heiress. However, won’t has you
any longer. Good-by; I dare say I  see
you te-mcrrow athrW." r

Disgusted with them both, and, above all,
_with myself, I left the house, and mounting
inltan was soon agood way on my return to

CHAPTER VIII.
sown IN nmmcunms.

Svnrtu'and I did not let the grass grow un-
der our feet on our way  to A——-—-—. It
seemed that rapidmoﬁon' relieved the tumult of
angry feelings which  while‘niy
little Arab had, no doc his m motives for:
exertion in the thoughts of the comfortable sta-
bleandgoodfeed la'ybeto‘rehim.‘ Bait
chanced thatwhen I arrived I fonndour fellows
only just sitting down to dinner. . They were
late that day, most of them he V been out on
a grand ‘g-sticking edition. .. was in time
to join em, and to myself obliged to defer
all conversation with. Hugh till: more conve-
nient portunity. During dinner Inoticed that
Solace ked  sulky and melancholy, which,
to say the truth,wa not usualwith him, though
when he was put out he certainly sometimes as-
sumed'that-form.’ ‘ . ' 1 ' ~

‘-‘ Well, Baliy, what is wrong With you to-day ’r‘”
I in aired. mayobserve that Solace had gone
by t a endearing epithet of Baby ever since he
had joined us, one of the greenest ensigns ever

by the Green Isle. Solace .-looked

 
age .
blacker than ever, andmuttered, “Nothing 

C-c‘

 
20‘ pily for the regiment, Solace

speak or to move. ‘A~wmfortahle

Z V London. He was shcwu into the

 
I know of; " but Langham from the other side
called out, “ Oh, .by—the-Wuy, Cairnsford. you
have not heard of Baby’stroubles. I must tell
you them, and I think you will agree with me
in seeing the urgent necessity for procuring an
ayah directly.” ‘

Several others now laughed, and Solace begar
to look seriously angry; but J amcs, always
good—natured, smoothed down his rising ire by
saying, “ Never mind, old fellow, you will have
a laugh at him some day, and you must learn to
bear this sort of chad; for if you show you do
not like it, they will take care to give you
enough of it. Join in the lau h, and it will not
hurt you.” Theyoung fellow grightened a little
at this, and glanced with a smile at Longhorn,
as thou h to say, “Tell any and ‘ do your
worst. am ready.” Langham laughed too»
he was not a bad sort of fellow, only he could
not resist a joke, and a ridiculous story about
any of his comrades aﬁorded such ﬁne scopertor
ornamental embellishment. . 4

“ Well." he said, “ on all know,,oratleast
Ccirnsford does not ow—that we went up“
yesterday evening to Cumberland -- Major
Crookley’s place. You know, him—the hus-‘
band of that hideous woman (Hecate, we gen-
erally call her) who thinks herself abeauty, and
is coquette ofaire pear. Her husband is jeal-
ous of her; and no wonder, as she is always
ﬁshing for new followers, though I do not think
she is very successful ; at which I am not our-
prised. How Crookley came to marry her is be.
yond my understanding.” - ‘ ,

“Oh, do you not know?" cried Brabazon.
“ I heard the whole story the otlicrday from
Soames, of the 9th. It seems Grantley came
here a very green young fellow, and this Miss
London—then, of course, many years yonnger,
though, I believe, not one bit better looking-—
set her cap at him. She had plenty of money,
but she was fearquyplain, even then, and had,
morecver, a way with her that made most .f: 1—
lows ﬁght shy other. Crackle was intr ducod
to her, and, once she had got old of him, she
kept him, on some pretext or other, running
afterher, until one night, at a dance, where he
was foolish enough to go without the protec—
tion of a superior omcer—dii which respect, hep.
was more fortun-
ate—he inadvertently made use of the some;
what high-ﬂown ex reseion, “my: solicit the
honor of your han ’-——- ‘for the next dan'ce,’
he would have said; but she interrupted him
quickly with, ' Dear Charlie, as u love me so
well, and seem so truly to desire it, I am yours;
Call on papa tomorrow, early in the morning;
For the present, I must as good-night, as wt
are going.’ And she all of, leaving the un-
fortunate young fellcwtoo dumbfounde to

must have passed, I should fancy 3‘ burnt M
he decided there was nothing for it but 110 call
next duly at her home and explain the mistake.

“ he did, accordingly, and asked
drawingvrooin,
where she presently cameto him, apparently
only just returned from riding, as she wasin her
hat and habit.» She welcOmad him with great
empreseement, bathe, though feelings. little im-
easy, rushcd boldy at the matter in hmd‘and

began—#1 fear, Miss London, youth have
misunderstood acme Words I made use of last

night in requesting the honor or your hand for
a dance. What I meant ’—-——— -

“ ‘Oh no—not at all,” she interrupted. ‘I
understood you perfectl ' , dear Charlie, and
have given-it to you ful y and; Steely, as you
see ;” at the same time laying her hand on his.

“Someone was saying to ’ure‘just'inowéthat
people might'sayl hadmisunderstood;,'but.l

answered‘that anyone who dared say so to me
I should, with my own hand, horsewhip 
an inch of his  And she : ave the ‘etron ‘
cutting whip she held in her and a swing
through the air, within mind). of hisshouldara,
as she spoke; ‘So you see, Charlie dear,‘there

Via'gnotfthcylleast need to dread 

marks,.and aisreadytoeec now. 7

Pa , . ..
'told him all aboutit, and he will magnum;

some settlements; we need not wait for . j

 =butr’oan ﬁx the day at 01198. I Will

nichthe

anm‘mswnmmmw . r, .. 

 
HUGH aurora

 
go with you to papa, as he is sometimes diﬂicult
$1391: on with for those who do not understand

» “That is the way. Grookley was hooked, ac.
cording to Soames‘s account, *and to look at
laminae would think itlilrely enough. I hear
she keeps the identical riding-whip that con-
Quered the, major under a glass case in her own
room. The fear of it is what keeps him, in
glitter-ad, in such awe of her, I should imagine.
Now, go on, Langham, and tell us what hap-
pencil to Solace.” I

3“ Where was I ?-—you have put me out,” said
Langham.‘ peevishly. He liked to have all the
talking to himself, and left aggrieved that Bra—
baZOn should have interrupted his story. “ Oh,
Iiwas telling you we went up to Cumberland
for croquet, with the prospect of a dance after.
ward. I need not tell you that if Solace has a
marked la'ling, it is a. strong tendency toward a
mild ﬂiration, enjoyed quietly, without too
much excitement, over an ice are jelly ata
dance, or by the help of the language ,of ﬂowers
during a stroll in the country. That is his
style. Rather too much in the milk-and-water
line for me, as he always keeps half his mind on
the watch for danger signals, and only goes into
the business with the other half; but chacun a

_ don gout, and it is certainly the ‘wisest way,
after all.

. “Well, yesterday he had not been long at
croquet when his till then unoccupied fancy
became attracted by Miss London, a halﬂsister
of Mrs. Crookley’s, and without doubt a very
pretty girl, only just come out from England
to'iive with-her sister. ‘ She and Mrs. Crookley
are about the same height, and—~I suppose
through some caprice of Mrs. Crookley’swthey
Were that day dre’sSed alike; besides that they
resembled each other in the color of their‘hair
and their tone of voice—~both, in fact, speak
curiously alike; so that unless you saw their

., faces, you coull not by the voice distinguish
one from the other. Miss London is, how-
ever, as rettyas her sister is the reverse, and
.Ivo’ould ardly wonder at Baby’s unsophisti-
cated mind being caught by so attractive an
object. And then her get—up was sweetly

retty, and she wore the palest cream-colored
gloves, that ﬁtted to erfection ; and she had
an artless way of requiring the croquet balls to
be Settled under the prettiest arched instep
that an . man_ever had the pleasure of beheld-
mg. '18 weakness was excusable, after all.
Weeun pardon it; but for the safety of the

regiment, my dear friends, let us all beg him

next time to look before he speaks.

' f‘ Ila, of course, joined in a game of croquet,

playing on the same side as the young lady I
‘ ave beenydescribing. I thought I shoull get

more fun out of the thing by strolling about,

' .and'now and then looking on; and so, I think, So ace, give me - ours, and take a stroll with 1,

it turned out.

. {ff-Shortly after the game commenced, Major
Gmokley, of whose relationship to Miss London
Baby was ignorant, and was consequently
«ﬁerceliijealous of their evident intimacy, had
a  wonderful good luck, and went ﬂying
about the round, displacing every one, to the
trrumphzo his friends and anger. of his foes,
who {Whispered loudly, 'Did you ever see
.suchgbarefacad- spooning '2’ ‘Sucha ﬂuke v!’
etc. At length he approached Miss London's
ball. empated 117,0 and with one powerful
blewvsentit- ﬂying far over the boundary of
thecroquet ground. ,, It .- , .,

 a; ‘91», Clear? sheeried plaintivel , ‘that is
me. How. ‘.oould you" be so came 3?, At any
xm,‘ya0l’1;Wﬂl bring it back to the edge of the
groun.q,_~_,"   '
 it yours 2 I did not  I You can
,  ‘_ "it’haek yOurself, or make I .. Solace do
.  you, if you do not want the trouble,’ he
 carelessly, going on with his", genie.
. gifiﬁhegtmed ‘to Solace. who was standing
beeﬁng“; with an up ealing‘ gesture.
 ff;  ham-«what a sa  I donut want
 arithat‘vway. Woul you go'a‘nd get it
*for me if? ,  do [you think youcould manage
 ego “item in 13;, my”
 -.?,I‘ an a wet.
,|I_._am ,.

’V‘h'elped.’

 
v asked

 
V shallower get on unless-I am"  . 7» w
 g , A l ‘ f laughed Solace, With more goodstemper than

“ ‘ He ought to do it himself when he sends a
lady’s ball so far ed the round,’ answered
Solace ;, ‘but I am glad he did not, for my own
sake, as it gives me the opportunity of, being
useful to you.’ ,

“ With wliah touching speech he picked up
the ball, and, with great adroitness, contrived
to place it in excelleniiposition, as he thought,
unseen by any one. ajor Crookley was, he:
ever, too devoted to his game and too proud of
his success not to be very well aware of the ex-
act spot where he had left each ball, and just
as Solace had settled Miss London’s ball to her
likin , Crookley called out:

“ ‘ y, what is that? I so ', Solace,where
are you putting that ball ? It as no business
there.’

“ ‘Oh’ yes; I assure you that is its place,’
Solace answered, trying to look unconcerned.

“ ‘And I assure you that is not its place,
and I will not have it there,’ said the Major,
angrily. ‘I must request you to allow peo-
ple to move their OWn balls on this ground,
and not to infringe the rules of the
place.’

“ ‘ I was not aware that bringing back a
lady’s ball when it hld been sent over the
boundary was an infringement of rulss,’ re.-
plied Solace,su1kily; ‘under the circumstances
I think you should have fetched it yourself,
which would have obviated all this.’

“ ‘ Oh, you think so, do you? I wonder who
our 0 inion,’ said Major Crookley, in~
suiting y. ( e is always rather hasty, and his
temper was now thoroughly up.) ‘ I think la-
dies are as well able to fetch their balls as
gentlemen; and I shall make it a rule in fu-
ture, on my ground, that they do so.’

“ ‘ Then I should think very few ladies will
honor your ground with their presence,’ said
Solace, whose back was up, as the Yankees
say. , i '

“ ‘MightI ask what you. mean by that
speech?’ asked the major. . ‘

“ ‘ I mean what I say,’ replied Sotace.

“ ‘I suppose you wish to insinuate by it
that I am no gentleman,’ continued Crook e3
getting more and more excited as his oppo-
nent became more sulky and uncompromis—
ing. .

“ ‘ You may put what interpretation you
like on it,’ answered Solace. ‘Anything will
suit, I dare say.’

“ ‘Come, come, this will not do,’ said Mel-
ton, just then stepping forward (he was there,
too, for a wonder). ‘ Solace, you should not
have transgressed the rules, of the ground,and
you, Major, are, I am sure, putting an inter-

pretation on his words Solace never would .

have given them. Do not let ‘us spoil a leas-
ant party by such a foolish dispute. _ want
to. rom in the game, and I cannot get a mullet.

Langham. He Wlll show you all the beauties
of tee place, while theMajor andeill see
which is the best man at croquet: I,

“So the. Baby, swelling With indignation,
Was turned overto me to bear-lead [about the
place, while , Melton went in for croquet and
ﬂirtation with ,retty Miss London, whose
blandishments, 1P fem», excited more res use
from our steady captain than they shoul have
done, as I heard her tell her smtergafterward
Captain Menominee an en el. and he had
the most, perfect eyes she is everlooke‘d at.”

“ Come, Langham, draw :1: mlidrlf, you
please, " remanstrat ed Melton. laughing ; ff your
ears are tee fg’ood, my dear. fellow: and m re.
pasting what theyhear.’ I‘fear you’sometimes
8a . .ixiore than your _ I V ,
si or my feelings; I ‘OW I, ought to blush,
but am so hardened I cannot get one up, even
b0 save my re 'utation hellﬁre you all. ’p‘ ‘

, , " Is that al l”. I said; as Langham proceeded

to refresh himself w‘ithia‘rdraughtof iced 

selle«cup,~ "(I thought there was 'someth’in

‘ more comm ; but indeed that," was ‘i’oolis.
enough, 333% ‘ ‘

y, mydhilda  Elbpeyyouiwi‘ll be
cautious, or the chamlin ' Amelia‘may how a
chance of,ho1tlins~.the . .
ghoul’ders,asher   o’v’er‘ Major "V’Crook-v
935-1, .5 a, 3717.5  ,‘r; ‘   ‘ 

"You {are as bad as the rest, Gaimsford,”

orsewhip over ’ your”,

he had at ﬁrst shown. “Why should not I
admire a pretty girl, if I see one? and why
should not I help her when she is in diﬂicul—
ties, if she asks me?” ’ .' .

" Why should he not, poor fellow ?"' chimed
in Marshman. “Of- course he should, if he
likes; we only Want to keep him from run-
ning his innocent little head into a ve
1murderous slip-noose, from which he wil
never nu, able to extricate it if he once gets
it 1n.” ' ' e

“ What are all you fellows making such a
noise about? I have not half ﬁnished my
story; and I declare one would think it was a
ladies’ committee-room, the noise and chatter
are so great. Silence, there, gentlemen, arid
let me continue," cried Langham. ‘ I

Order being restored immediately on this
appeal, he went on, disregarding the plaintive;
looks of Solace, who would evidently ,have
been just as well pleased had no farther dis-
closures been made of his yesterday’s pro.
ceedings. ‘  ’

"After croquet,” continued the indefatigable
Langham, “it was proposed that we should
dance, and I need not tell you Baby lost no
time in obtaining the ﬁrst dance from Miss
London. Not content with one he asked for
another, which was readily granted. As-she
gave it she said, ‘If I am not in the room
when our dance begins, I shall be in the‘gar-
den near the ruined temple; it is a favorite
seat of mine; it is so pleasant to steal away
between the dances, and rest in the cool, even.
ing air, among the ruins all covered with
plants and ﬂowers.’ Solace muttered some-
thing I did not hear quite, though Iﬁvas close *‘
by at the time, about her being the. fairest
ﬂower of all; but I suppose, she heard’it, as
she smiled brightly, and went oﬁ‘with her
partner. Now comes the dreadful  of the
story. Cairnsford. 3'1 am sorryI have been so
long coming to it, but it was: necessary to ex-

- plain everything.

“When the time drew near for hisdanoe,

There she was, sitting .in the appointed
place. He could not see if she was pleased
at his punctuality as he approached, as
there was no moon that night, and the stars,
though brilliant, did not light up the garden
sufﬁciently for him to observe the expression of
her face. She did not speak and he began :r
‘ I knew I should ﬁnd you here when I saw you
were. not in the dancing.er I have been
counting the minutes till our turn should‘oome
round again. a ' 
“ ‘ Do you, really, then, like dancing with me
so much ?’ she replied. ‘Butitis on! the non-g,
sense people like you talk. _ You ' , because
you are here today and there tomorrow like a ‘
utterﬂy, you are privileged to show in your
character all the inconstancy usually ascribed to
that insect.’ . » ‘ ~

“ ‘Indeed you wrong me,’ Baby replied, car.
neatly; “you do not know how I have looked,‘
forward to this dance. But even it do not
believe what Isay, do me one favor. , Giro
one ﬂower out of your bouquenthatl may
keep in remembrance of this evening ’9, you can.
not refuse me this little request. ‘~ Justthat One
rosebud; you will'not, I am sure, be so oracles
to refuse it; there is no harmsin 1t.’ . ‘ 

“ ‘No harm in it, indeed!’ said aman'swoice
behind them.~ 91 like that. Sir, I  is
harm in it; and‘you will: have todo without a

'veyouone.’ j r . 'y ~ ; _
' “"Andwhat businesshave your winter—fete
between me audaany lady to whom‘I ma 

  
such a harmleslk torrent, IshOul‘d like 13, ‘ ,V p
askedSolaemhaug 'tily. ,  j- I  ‘  
.‘mu rllwill‘wery 80911 8110‘?. youfwhgt 

  
hayre'toriirtertereq; roared thegmajdr, 
none other‘dhhn.lis,;spnnging 
 passzomat the, maritimmM‘ ,
pgyaahe haduntil that moment, ' *
4i ‘ . ‘i ‘ ' hm  ylﬁ-v‘m's
race white kid glove. he  its: been.

I about to»! ut on before

room. -‘ , seeing  intent, stepped '

 
Solace, not seeing the lady anywhere in the I
’. rooms, went to the garden to look for her.

ﬂower rfrom this lady; as I shall not allow harm
,r‘ayers. ‘ Besides, 'con-, ‘81 '

uses. and escapedunteuehed: but the insult

 
~ i

 
18

HUGH MEL rozv';

 
was too marked, and turning away, he said,
‘ You shall hear from me again on this matter,
Major Crookley. A friend of mine vn'll Come to

u here immediately, as the alfair had betmr
b: settled at once before it gets wind, when the
authorities would interfere.’ . "

“ ‘ Very well, sir,’ answered the major, be-
coming“ calm encugh when he perceived his in-
sult had been taken up in the way he wished.
‘ I shall wait here for half an hour for your
friend. If he does not come before that time
expires, ’I shall think even some of you than I
at present do.’ , ,

“ AImDst beside himself with rage, Solace
walked 01f to me, and related what had occurred,
begging me to act as his second, and to appoint
a meeting at half-past four o’clock, in a secluded
spot just outside the garden, on the banks of
the river.

“I tried at ﬁrstto reason our friend Baby out
of this absurd idea, representing that duels were
forbidden by the regulations of the service, and
that it wouldcost him his commission; but you
have no notion how stiff an infantile mind can
a be until you have been placed in a position like
mine. I

“ Seeing I could not persuade him to listen
*to reason, I called Melton, who was equally un-
successful, and who was-at last-obliged to say:
‘ Well, Langham, if it must be, I should advise

ou to go and see Major Grookley; the half
hour is nearly up, and it will not-do to let him
think any of our regiment were defaulters in an
affair of honor. Stay, I will go with you, as
really I think there must be some mistake. I
.do not think the major can be such a fool as to
object ‘ to his sister-in-law giving a ﬂower to
anyone she chooses. Solace, you wait here till
we return.’ ,

“ We accordingly went to thagarden, and in
the appointed spot found Major Crookley.
‘ Ah,’ he varied, on seeing us,“ you have only
just saved yourselves; the half-hour is almost
up, and if you had not come in time to settle
this little business, I should have been obliged
to punish your ,young friend some other way,
instead of giving him the satisfaction of a gen-

3871 had intended."

. “ ‘ Well, but, major,’ said Melton, ‘ will you
teltuewhat it is all about? For Solace tells
us it is about aﬂower he was begging from a
lady; but that seems quite too foolish to be-
lieve. 1am sure .theremust be some misunder-

. , _

We
“ “ understanding, indeed !’ replied the
' major, excitedly ; ‘it wasma great deal too plain
7 to me. .I had come to sit out here in the cool
night-air with my wife, who was tired of danc-
; Ileft her for a moment to go and light a
cigar at a‘alamp in the uveranda, and when I re-
turned-I found this fellow sitting beside her
making love to her, and begging for ﬂowers and
keepsakes and what not. I just told him
my mind straight out, and, I will not say I
did not provoke him to challenge me, but then
I was quite justiﬁed indoing so by the circum-
stances ofthe: case ; :and I will give the young
puppyalesson that will teach him not to meddl
with othermen’s wives in future.’ I
“ As the major mentioned that it was his wife
from whom Solace had begged the ﬂowers,
Melton started, andlaid his hand on my arm to
‘ prevent my speaking. When the account was
ﬁnished, he said: . ‘ You certainly had great
provocation, Major Crookley, and I regret
that any-«ofﬁcer of "‘ours” should have given
you such
tell me, if it could be proved that Solace ima—
ginednhewas addressing another lady, while he
 iujitreality, speaking to Mrs. Cookley—if,
1 .mﬁit’ could be proved that he was thus
 had no intention of sum ' 3 you

unanyu ,Isuppose you would avetno

  vfor your insulting act to
 inth ease-he would, ofcourse, with-
draw his_,challense, and all might be. settled

v _ -e‘ ~‘weu,  major  ‘if it
.aonldbe, ed thatthe'youngfallow had misc
' “kennel wifezfm' anypther My, which inthis
«dim  is just gamble. I suppose: I ought
$0151 his pardon .fot any offennve gesture;

grave cause of complaint; but,

i
3

yet I hardly
mistake.’ *

“ ‘ Well, I cannot be sure about it,” replied
Melton; ‘only my impression is that he took
your wife for another lady, for whom I know he
entertains a great admiration." The best plan,
however, will be for us to meet at the appointed
place at half-past four o’clock, when, if an ac-
commodation, is possible, I will arrange it; if
not, Mr. Langham and I will act as the friends
of Solace; you, I suppose, will bring your own.’
So saying, we turned and Walked back toward
the dancing room ; but we had not gone half a
dozen yards when Melton went into a fit ofquiet
laughter, so violent that we were obliged to'
stand still for a few minutes till he got over it a
little. ‘ Oh, it is too good, Langham! Is it
not splendid? Think of that foolish Baby mak-
ing pretty speeches to that old Hecate, Mrs.
Crookley! And then his ﬁghting a duelfor love
of her beam: your! Our fellows will die laugh-
ing when they hear of it; I tell you what we
ought to do. It will be a good thing to give
that foolish youth a little fright ; it may break
him of the habit of indiscriminate ﬂirtation he
has allowed himself to contract, and it is sure to
give us some fun, when he knows for whose
sake he has been risking his precious person
under the major’s ﬁre, for he is A 1 with pistols.
We will not let him know aboutthe mistake un-
til they are on the ground face to face; then
imagine how he will look when he ﬁnds Mrs.
Crookley is the fair cause of strife.’

“ I thought the idea good, and readily agreed
to work‘it; but we were near failing in the be-
ginning from the dreadful difﬁculty we expe-
rienced in keeping grave faces while we toldthe
unhappy Baby the hour and place of meeting,
with other arrangements, ending by requesting
him not to allow people tosee anything unusual
about him, butto keep up dancing with his cus-
tomary spirit till the guests separated, which
they did about four o’clock. As soon as they
were gone we seized on Solace, and dragged
him off to the place of meeting.

“ ‘ We can sit here and smoke a quiet cigar,’
observed Melton. ‘until the time is up.’ We
have only half an hour to wait; and in the
meantime, old follow, if you have any message
to leave for any of your friends, tell me, for
though I do not think matters will be as bad as
that, still it is the correct thing to do, and we
may as well do the proper thing as we are
about it.” '

“ Yes," interrupted Solace at this juncture,
“ anda most heartless fellow I thought you,
Melton. You looked so cool and easy over it
all, and asked me had I made my will in such a
matter of fact manner, that I thought you the
most unfeeling monster I had ever met, and
longed to be'able to proclaim to the regiment
what an unnatural ruﬂian you really were, in-
stead of the kind, good-hearted fellow we had
hitherto thought you.”

“ That will do, Solace,” said Langham,waving
his hand serenely; ,“your thoughts were very
visible on your face, and I cbuld repeat them all
exactly as they passed through your mind if I
consi ered them worth repeating. I only won-
der how I ever kept my countenance; I am sure
I have injured myself internally in my struggles
to keep from laughing outright.

“Time went on. Solace was worked into a
white heat by Melton’s friendly odors and my
instructions and comforting assurances, and I
was beginning to think we should have to take
the other line, and make light of it, to keep his
nerves steady, though, to do him justice, they
stood the test wander-fully, when Major Crook-
‘ley made his, appearance.

“ ‘Oh, hereyou are alreadylf he cried. ‘I
am glad you are so punctual. We shall get over,
this little business in a few minutes ; . and I do
not want to be long, as Mrs. Crookley may take
it~~into her head to ask where I have been. I
a have brought a surgeon as well as my second,
you soc.‘ I thought it likely v one would be
wanted.’ . ' ‘ ‘

“ ‘ Very welL,’ I answered. ‘ We had better

new measure the tgound and place the prinei- ,

pals. You are nei

 
, r oféyOu inclined to apolo-
8120, 1 “PM?” , , 

no .-

 
think he could have made such a ‘

 
“ ‘ No, indeed,’ said Solace, . stiﬂiy; [while-
Major Crookley did not seem to have heard my

question, and began chatting to the surgeon with. ,

great volubilityand ease of manner. Solace

stood apart, looking as if hehad swalloweda

ramrod, and apparently taking not the smallest
interest in our proceedings, though I am con~
vinced he was watching out of the corner of his
eye the whole time‘. I The Major had brought a
very nice pair of pistols, which we determined
to use, as they were the only ones to be got, and.
in a few minutes everything was ready. The

principals were placed in their proper positions,

and Melton was just about to step up and ask

Solace how he could be sofearfully foolish as to

run himself into such a scrape for Mrs. Crook-.
lay, when a dark ﬁgure rushed out from among

the bushes coming from the direction of the
house, and discovered to our astonished eyes the
lady herself.

“ ‘ This is a. pretty way to treat your guests 1’
she cried, turning on her husband. ‘ What do
you mean by it ? Do you think I will allow such,
performances here '2’ Go back to the house in.
stantly, and do not let me hear of your trying
anything of the kind again. Here, give me that
pistol before you go; you must have got my
keys to take these. Pretty doings, indeed I"

“The Major looked from one to another of
us as though imploring protection and pity;
then slowly and reluctantly handed the pistol
over to his wife, who returned it to its case, and.
who, as he turned to leave, called out after him :
‘ Stay a minute, and tell me what this is all
about.’ V A

“ ‘ I only wished to give that young fellow a
lesson about interfering with other people’s;
wives. He is the one who was begging ﬂowers
from you last evening,’ said the Major, sulkily. /

“ ‘ 0h, is that all P’ answered the lady, be—
nignly, ‘ He did not mean any harm by it; it
was only a little gallant speech that meant
nothing.’

“ All this time Solace had been listening with
open-mouthed wonder; how he whispered to

.Melton, ‘ You do not mean to say they think I

asked her for ﬂowers?’ ,
“ ‘ Indeed they do,’ laughed Melton; ‘ and I
much fear you were guilty of iii—«unknowingly,
I believe, but still guilty you were. Tell theml
who it was you went to meet at the temple, and '
perhaps she matter may be set right.’ -

“ Thus urged, Solace stepped forward. ‘ Was
it you, Mrs. Crookley, I met at the temple last

night? I went there to ﬁnd your sister Miss ‘

London, who told me she would probably be
there when our dance came round; and I
thought I was addressing her when I begged
for ﬂowers. I should never have ventured to
make so presumptuous a request to you.’

“ ‘ You went to meet my sister,’ replied Mrs.
Crookley. ‘I knew from what you said- you
were mistaking. me for some one elsathough I
could not guess whom I was taken for. a We
willcall Amelia, and see why she was not there
as she promised, thus causing this stupid mis-
take. Alil’ she continued, raising her voice.
A black servant came out from among the
bushes, and approached her. ‘ Go and call
Missee Londonn—I want her; or stay, we will
return to the house, but tell her I want to see
her.’ ,

" ‘If the Mem Sahib will not be angry, Ali
will tell where Misses London one away, to,’
answered the black, with a can look  his.
dark eyes. ‘ Missee Loudon she run of with
Mister Spot, the oung leetle  come so
oftento see the em Sahib.  her Misses
London say they go of to be married.’

‘.‘ ‘Ensign' Spot, of the 101% Native Infan.
tryl’ screamed Mrs. Crookley. ‘The ungrate.
fulgirl1isthattheway she treats me? She
will have nothing to live on, as .I know, He
has not a penny; and she need not
anything from me, as she has not me.  , to
please me. I always intended her to make, a,
good match, andnow she has gone and spoiled
alliny lane. The ungrateful hussyl’ ’

"‘ M ton and I looked at eschews: and
went into internal conVulsions of hum.
while the major sidled up to Solace. who

 
HUGH ﬁELTON.

19

 
 “ ‘ Well, it was a mistake, after all, and I am
. any for my part  it, ‘and' still more sorry
" hat the girl has gone and made a fool of her—
hell. You will forgive my hastiness, will you
 0t? I really thought you were using me bad-
y, and my temper is unfortunately soon put
: up. I must go now and see where that foolish
' couple have got to, as I should be sorry if
1Amelia get into trouble; but you will come in
(and take something before you go ?’ ‘
“We declined this, however, and set 01? on
our way back to A——; and if Solace does not
 know what it is to be chaﬁed by this time, I am
} much mistaken.”
" “Bravo, Baby?” I cried, when Laughs-m had
ﬁnished. “ You got out of ‘it ‘ splendidly,
zithough I think that was more through good
.hgck than good guidance. I hope your next
,! ﬂlrtation will not have quite so exciting a ter-
:. mmation.”

“Oh, Inever ﬂirt, I assure you,” answered
;, Baby, gravely ; “and it’s a great shame of all of,
%1 you to be so eternally accusing me of it.” '
 "‘ No, indeed, you never do ﬂirt, and you
; never willuuntil the next time; but take care
you do not do it once ,too often, and ﬁnd your—
.Self hookedsome day before you know "where
11011 are. Now, Melton, come up into my room,
,for I want to have a chat with you.”

CHAPTER IX.
A M r s r E a r.

. WHEN I brought Melton up to my room, and
 9Xplained to him the cause of my long absence
 and its results, his anger exceeded even what I
 ad expected and been prepared for. There
ame into-his face such an evil look, that I
could not help thinking how bad the best of us
 are at tinies. If Captain Cameron had come
:before him then I could not have 'ariswered for

 
" the results; neither reason nor. friendship could

have restrained‘him, and I: determined to keep
 in hisrroom, if possible, till the ﬁrst burst
 his fury shOuld have expended itself. It was
1‘ then that he told me the affair about the money,

Sayi'n :' ., f. ‘
“ Vgith such a villain I will keep no- faith. I

_ ‘ onsider mySGIf fully absolved from my prom-
"vi'se by what has just passed. Now, Cairnsford,
 must write‘at, Once to Mr. Meares, and tell
{:‘him what I have heard. ' ‘You are ready to cor-
: roborate my statements, are you not ?”
 “Stay,” I said; “they will require proofs,
f and those we must get. He said St. Margaret’s
ﬁves burned, and the books with it. I do not
firemember hearing anything about it, and I
think it would be Well for one of us to get leave
Eat once, and start at once for Calcutta, to
ilnvestigate. I believe he was saying 'what was
gnot true to mislead his wife; at any rate, We
7 must try and get some proof besides our mere
3 assertions, for though I think they would be
} Sufﬁcient tobreak oil the match as far as the
f young lady‘is concerned, the parents might not
 Bee it in the same light. As I think Crusty is
: moreobliging to me than to you, perhaps I had
i better apply for leave, and go on this errand.
 n the meantime, if _ you can dissemble, you
3 mustﬂdo so, Do not let Cameron think you
 know a word of this; let him imagine that I
l Went’away without telling you. If we mane
‘ age well, he may. not start immediately for

Calcuttah'as I sure. he will. do when he
Iinovvst’vhere I‘have gone; on purpose to try
and destroy any record that may exist. I shall

be abletoﬁndlthe proofs before he suspects we
tare on the scenté” . I, . _, ' " ‘
 “Rowena I thank, you, 0W0“! W31de
 replied. . ,“ You are too good

    
; in return, _ Do on, know that I never thou lit
’ till now that healing of such dreadful 
a. couldme km 50. light ? It 1188 given

me   1  live now with more pur-
, We 1?

I hi‘se‘ﬁoxie for months  If ever I I

have it in my _j_w'e;‘ito mange on that  his
Wickednesaxi‘o .  I were.) so, costvhnt 13 may,

’ be it soon or late. To him'who can wait. V9111,

geance' will came." '

 
 09(111hg very glum, and holding 1' out his  '
V‘- ; '

 
_ , to me, taking all
? this trouhle'for one who can do so littleforyou

 
His tone was vindictive, and a sullen light
shone in his eyes as he spoke that showed my

5 rather a ridiculous light; but if such things .
g were to deter me, :1 should have thought of them *

friend was not the perfect self—controlled ‘ being? at ﬁrst, not now; and I could only hope Hugh 

I had imagined him. However, the time for 5» might be more manageable and willing to listen

action had“ come, and, only waiting to impress

on him the necessity of dissimulating befbre V‘
Captain Cameron, 1 left to seek out the colonel

and apply for leave.

It was granted wit ut difﬁculty. I do not
know that I can assert that I was a favorite with
the old fellow, but he had a most nineteenth-
century veneration forriches, and would always
bow down and worship any golden calf that
might be set up before him. Now Fortune had
favored me in this respect, so I never found
any trouble in getting my requests granted by
old Armstrong, and this occasion was no excep-
tion to the rule.

Having obtained leave, I set about prepara.
tions for an early start next morning. At three
o’clock in the night or morning, or whatever
you like to call it, I set out without havingseen
Cameron since our parting at Booderabad; I
was not even aware whether he had yet re-
turned. It was a horribly long and tiresome
journey, and, though I made the best speed I
could, took me nearly a week to accomplish.
At such times how slowly life seems to move 1
I felt like one reading an interesting novsl, who
longs to skip the intermediate pages and ar—
rive at the end of the story. I had an in-
tense curiosity to see how this romance, to
which I had suddenly become a spectator,
would terminate. I felt "as if every little
exertion on my part to discover proofs of
Cameron’s guilt was the turning over of a
leaf in the life-stery open before me. But
it was slow work waiting, even though work»
ing; it might take years before the denouement
came, and the question 'was, would my interest
then survive; would it not probably have died
out ages before; and though Hugh would still
be my friend, would not his love and its success
have ceased from a too familiar acquaintance
with all its details, to be a matter of interest to
me ? Very likely it would. In the meantime
the journey was dull, and I had nothingelse to
think of; so I thought of that till I worked
myself into a. perfect fever of impatience, and
longed to leap over two or three years of my
life, and see how matters would stand then.
Life is slow work, unless One is actively busy.
In those sultry summer days when We rested
under the shade of the banyanatrees, and I list-
lessly watched the Hindoos cooking their rice,
I felt that, with an intolerable overpowering
sense of helplessness to make it otherwise. I
should, no doubt, have felt it even more but for
the myriads of ﬂies of all sorts and species that
nearly drove me distracted, and made anything
like serious thought, out of the question.

At last I reached Calcutta; but I hope no
one expects me to render an account of how I
passed my time during the week I spent there,
resting from the fatigues of my past journey,
and preparing for the one before me. As I had
suspected, the story of the ﬁre was a canard,

artfully founded on fact to mislead his unsus-‘ K

pecting wife. . The vestry had been partially
burned, but the books were safe, and Inot only
saw the registry of Captain Camergn’s marriage,
but got a copy of it for my own and Melton’s
satisfaction; for the rest, I was even more un-
well than I had been up the country, and longed
insanely for a whiff of the-cool seapbreezes on
my native sea-cost, and a glimpse of the green
Atlantic breakers as’they surge ~ in on the tall
gray slide of my father-land. ,

 The week I-had' allowed myself was over at
last, and I set Out on my return, wondering la-
zily during those dull hot days of travel whether
Hugh would beguided "by my advice in this
matter, or whether he would act" I in a head
strong, headless manner, that Would damage
him before the world, and give his crafty“ op-
ponent some" loophole  to? creep,
and appear before all‘eyes as a blameless chat—

acter, whom: circumstances, as  and;

stirred up by that  Melton, ' had» been
very much against, It wausquite on the ear-d8,

that this wOuld his the cadet the whole tJenni;

nose. I was prepared to see myself appear in

to reason, than'when I left.

I-did not see him, or, indeed, any one else,
about the place, when I returned, and of course-
concludcd they were all out. at their usual amuse--
ments, as it was rather late in the evening, ‘
the most favorite time for outing in our station.
I went, “PM. reiore, at once to the colonel's quar-~
ters to report myself, and found him in, looking,
as I thought, very grave and busy.

In such a dry old stick as he was that did not
much surprise me, but I wished I had come at.
another time; for though busy, I saw by the
way he motioned me to sit down and hustled, .
his papers together that he intended to have a
c at. >

“ This is a very sad business, Cairnsford,”
he began. “ Can you throw any light on it '1’ I .
suppose not, as you were away. Still, you were
his friend." .

“I have not the very faintest idea to what
you are alluding,” I answered, with some curl-v
osity, for, to do him justice, our colonel‘s man-
ner was really sad.

“ To be sure, I did not care much for him, "
he continued; “ but then such a mysterious die. ,_
appearance. It is very shocking. They say,
you know, he must have been devoured by a
tiger.” ‘ .

“But who is it, colonel ? You know I have
only just come back. I have not‘heard a word
about whatever the affair is to which you are
alluding.”

“ What I not heard of Melton’s disappearance ? a
How extraordinary! I thought that'every one
was talking of it.” ..

“So they may be here; butas I have just,
come off a long journey and have seen no one,

I know nothing about it. Might I ask you to
tell me all ? " ' ~

I said this quietly enough, though my heart
was beating loudly with Suppressed excitement -
at this extraordinary rumor, so disjointedly told
that I could only gather Melton had disappear-
ed somehow, and some people thoughts tiger
must have canied him oﬂ; butI said . to my-, -
self, as these facts were slowly realized in my
bewildered brain, that I knew better, and that .
if Melton was really gone, it was a tiger in 1111- _ _,
man, not in brute shape that had made away .
with him. If he did not turn up, andif dili-I
gent search could discover the slightest  ,

y ‘,

my suspicions were correct, I swore to m

deep but silent oath, while leaning breathlessly,
across the colonel’s table, that I would have ven- f
geance and en and summary—ve ance for
the young lif blighted, for the true heart stilled,
for the brave blood spilled, for- the earnest
friendship shattered. Yes, he should never es- v
cape me, this skulking ruﬂian, this midnight,
assassin; and I vowed a vow before God to deal
by him in my hour of power as he had dealt by
my friend in his. . '
The colonel’s voice disturbed me. . r . ,
“ You look ill, Cairnsford,” he said; “I;
should not have tpld you so suddenl “only-I .
thought you must already have b. the ‘
news. He was a dear friend of yours, I remem-
ber; no doubt well worth liking, too, though he »
and I did not pull well together. Well, I am sorry -
for him. If we can ﬁnd out the  brute 
that did for him, I? will not be  in» 
ﬁring a shot to avenge our old comrade.’ __ __
Old Crusty, after-all, was better-than I had I,
thought him;" he seemed really moved as he. .
pronmmoed thlaquaintand  _
0 tion, andIoordmlly graspedthe handhe
hiddtowardme. ‘Hethentoidme all  par};
ﬁculars of my poor friend‘s disap ea, , . A
Just the ﬁfth day after I left, Melton went WI ,
'earlyinthe mommgtosketch, which'was * .
himnothing  He didnot '
atnight, which wasoertainly not a little: \ , 
but no one thought much about it till .
the  ﬂay. “'th hi8 prolonged absencejsin-t "
(laced 83a: and , with some of ch:
0 ere, g ups. artyand. outinemh. .9,”
him. His sketchilock andggther Mp8 Were-

 
foundinammotefomstgladalmthowhehaﬂ

 
m.

HUGH MEL TON.

 
leftthis spot could not be discovered. There
were no footprints leading in any direction out
ofthe lode, though’the path by which he had
entered was visible enoxleh to the keen eyes en-
gaged in the search. ence some supposed a
tiger must have carried him 05, though others,
combating that supposition, urged that a tiger
would have left traces that might have been rec-
o ‘ .as easily as those of a man. . ,

. t was now two weeks since his disappearance,

and no farther light had been thrown upon the
matter. I resolved, if my sus icions Were cor-
rect, that the whole case shoul soon be cleared
up. ,
:;.On leaving the colonel I immediately sought
out Solace, who I knew to be a nice young fel‘
low and sincerely attached to Melton. It was
some timeibefore I found him, as he was at the
racket-court with Langham, and I hunted in
ev‘e'ry Other place before going there to look for
him. They told me .everythin had been done
to discover the truth .about elton’s fate, and
that after a fortnight’s strict search no more was
known: than when he was ﬁrst missing. Of
course, though satisﬁed that they had done their
best, I couldnot rest without renewing the in-
vestigation myself, trusting that, guided by my
suspicions, I should be able toﬁnd some clew
that would enable me to expose the perpetrator
of, this dastardly murder; for tLat there. had
been a murder, and that Cameron had been inn.
plicatcd in it, I at this time never doubted. r

‘sDay'. byday'l examined the glade where the
last. traces of my friend had been found, and
coached the jungle for mil..~s round in hopes of
lighting upon signs that had been overlooked in
:fo’rmor expeditions:; but without avail. My

v health gave way under distress and anxiety of

‘ not consider it worth my Whﬂg .

7

“v: ‘5 «:5, ,csrecéivbd mansions, gin,_thc_»library, and!

Nin
l

mind, and I was at length obliged to submit to
the doctor’s imperative-orders, and return to Eng-
land on sick-leave, having obtained only this
one‘ certainty in the matter, that Cameron had
for once been wronged by my suspicions, and
:that he was no more connected with poor
Hugh’s death than I was. Indeed, I had by
thietime begun to nooncur in the general belief
that atigerfmust have devoured him- , The only
thing that uzzled me in this supposition was
the. fact that we :had been unable to ﬁnd any
traces of his garments. though we had certainly
(ministered a tiger’s- lair some three or four
miles off. inrthe jungle, and "had avenged our
comrade by slaying the inhabitant of ,it,
generally supposed-to have been poor Hugh’s
d: _ ,cr. \ Poor fellow! it was, indeed, a sad
fa . Both ofﬁcers and men regretted him
sorely,and remembered when too late what a
kind,.'helpful friend he had been, both to his
equals and inferiors. As a mark of the respect
and estsemin which he had been held, it was
proposed to erect a tablet to his memory in the
parish .ohmch of ,Marshampton, his native place,
andI was commissioned to see that the order
(3' subscription had been got up for the tablet
 theoﬁeers and men). was properly exe-
cuted during my stay in England. Just before
I left, some‘wnrds that fell from Captain Cam-
eron showed me that notwithstaud' our meet-
ing‘at Booderabad, that gentleman. intended to
‘ onto his designs on Miss Mearcs; intend-
mg for. that purpose to get leava, and return to
England at the end of the year. I suppose he
' htI had believed his assertions that the
ladyl was not  wife, and that
isnyfriend‘ being newoutxof th may, I should
interfere. In

position he was mistaken; knowing

 su . ‘ .
 It dabout him, it wasimperative on me

and the pleasures it can purchase, was not agre
able; but he was a brew old man, and in a few
minutes rose superior to any re ets he might
have felt, and thanked me heart‘ y for what he
was pleased to term my very friendly conduct in
letting him know the danger that menaced his
daughter in connection with that man. “And
now,” he continued, rising, “it is just luncheon-
time; let me persuade ya to join the ladies
and take something before setting out on your
walk home. It is warm today, though no
doubt after the heat of India you do not feel
a it so. ” .

Thus Mr. Meares stopped me as I. was about
to leave, and bringing me into the dining-room,
introduced me to his wife, whom I had never
before seen, and his daughter, who recollected
me” perfectly, but, somewhat to my astonish-
ment, made no inquiry after Hugh, as I thought,
knowing our friendship, she might have done.
Of course it was pleasauter to me not to have
so painful a subject touched upon; but while
admiring her beautiful features, and clear, deep
eyes, I could not help mentally calling her a
heartless ﬂirt, wondering whethershe would be
annoyed that her marriage was broken off, and
dislike me as the bearer of, the bad tidings. _Not
that it would matter much to me; doubtless
they would soon leave Abbott’s Park, and then
any neighborly intercourse that my mother
might have had with them would cease, unless
they remained somewhere near. As I walked
slowly home t :atday, I felt little pity for the
downfall of the heiress, though some curiosity
.as to howshe would hear it.

I had a conviction—whencederived I know
notethat her proud beautiful head would never
quail unworthily before any reverse of fortune. ‘

For a day or two I heard nothing farther
about them; then one morning, on my entering
the breakfashroom, my mother looked up from
a pile of letters before her, andsaid:

“ I hear, Charlie, the Mearses are leaving
Abbot’sPark Miss Meares has refused to mar-
ry that Captain Cameron, to whom she has been
engaged for so long, and therefore, according to
the. tonne, of the will, all the money that was to
have been here in the event of the marriage goes
to a number of different charities. I am sorry
for them; they were nice people, and pleasant
neighbors. I think of writing and asking them
here until they have settled their plans, and
made up their minds what to do next. Have
you any objection?” r

Of course I said that I had not, and the two
girls, Lilla and May, were in ecstacies of delight
at the thought of having Miss Meares with them,
hoping, no doubt, to make a bosom friend of
her, as the manner of some girls is. I did not
want to disappoint them, so did not tell them
my impression, which was, that Miss Meares
would very likely receive all [their conﬁdences
and sympathize to any amount, but would give
none herself in return. Something about her
face gave me the idea that, though she had a.
surface of frank'ne'ss ve taking tostrangcrs,
there was beneath it an Intenscly reserved no.-
tqu that woald never revealit's dearest thoughts
and wishes but to one beloved object, and that
to the one she loved there would be no reserve,
no concealment. The passion of her life would
be steady, absorbing, expanding, if rightly
placedand worthily returned, .intensb, secret,
and self—consuming, if unrequited or misplaced.

Leaid nothing, andmy’ mother, asked them;
I hardly thought they woulnaccept her invita-
tiou, buthasmistaken. 'l‘hey did3theyagreed
to remain with us fora few Weeks,,while looking

 
 '
,   .son-mqlaw was. ,- 5; Accord.
:  I  a, year’s emblem/3a, am
81?  '  whammy mothmﬂsdswwis re.
more from Abet’e' Park, one of
meg-PW  Miss 31mm duties the; time

 
thetsmcet‘the-wmremained unsettled, .IQWTW‘  .
    brought

 bathe distresssdtsud schliédnttbe news
it]; *‘tecemmumeate.  baht theuthou ht
on f .oogzgarativeLWertyft 'gwcsldbe‘ , ed:
mites we; W? the“: brief-Jessa?! new?

  
girl’s parents understand whatdrind of,

. friendly enough tatermother and. .esi'rls-

 
for a small flees somewhere near,- suitedto their
newlimite .mcans, , The. first night I fancied;
Mmeleimewasmld and ﬂuent ts. although,

metastable hmdéde‘igrlxer  of fortune. yet;

Unsweetmswmth Israelites. imagining»

t the  expressway harshness 6W8. was.
, , there by set sec . ., '
8198,“!ng exquisite, and}; felt thes‘gcould for-i
we amusement 9f coldneswf 9913... might be
mounted? to. , . . _. to. that themes. some and
watch . that , so is peasants; fmez_.-imebserred,
Howng It  somethnes people; perfectly ,soul-
less. and uninteresting iathemselves eve sifted

 
I: convinced. '

hsordidmotiye,rg Her. no

bones wrong captain

with such glorious talents ? I almost hated her.

as I watched and admired, when I thou ht y’that ‘
but for the lamor cast around him by at per-

fect face endangers voice poor Hugh might have

been alive and lappy yet.

We breakfas . late at Cairns. My mother
and sisters were not early risers; but I often
went out those bright spring mornings with my
red to a stream that ran through the place, and 9
which from my earliest years I’remembered as >1
being a favorite resort of the speckled trout, so ’
dear to the soul of the angler. ' Y ‘

Next morning, after spending an hour or two
ﬁshing, I was wending my way home, when, as
I approached a. stile that I must cross to strike
the nearest path to the house, Iperceivedaﬁgure _
leaning against the fence with the back turned
toward me. It was a woman, simply yet hand-

somely dressed in a pretty walking costume.

After a. few minutes’ puzzled scrutiny I became
aware that it was no other than Miss Meares.

She did not sce me at ﬁrst, and I watched her
for a minute as she turned about with an anx-
ious air, as though she had lost her way. ’ I ad- A
vanced toward her quietly, so that she did not
hear me coming; and as I approadied I had _
time to scan the delicate outlines of her face, and ‘
I imagined that she looked paler and more -;
thoughtful than usual. .When I got near, a ,
branch cracked under my foot; she started, and .
turned hastily, but without any signs of fearpon 
her fair open brew. Recognizing" me, she held 
out her hand frankly, and exclaimed: ' ,

“ Oh, Major Cairnsford (I had gained a step
lately), “how very fortunate I have met you!
I have lost my way, and am afraid I shall be late
ferbrcakfast." ‘ ’ ' ‘

“ No fear of that, Miss Meares; we are in
plenty of time. I can show yous short way
back to the house.” So saying, we ‘Walked on
together.”

We had not gone far, and 'wnlf’e I was still
thinking of some remarkto make—for, to tell the ‘
truth, I both feared and mistrusted this young
beauty, and felt silent and uncomfortable in her ‘
presence, she on her art ' being ’& ually ab-’ *
stracted and thoughtfu ——when sud “only she

esclaimed, without any reface or leading up

to theusubject, “B -the- y, Major Cairnsford,
I saw an account 0 the mysterious disappear-
ance‘and supposed death of Captain Melton, of
your regiment, while you were at A‘w.
Would you tell me all about it? I knew him ,
years ago, and feel interested in his melancholy
fate.” ,

She tried to utter the words inn matter-of-
fset, unmoved manner, but a glance at her half- -
averted face showed me that her eyelids trem-
bled and her lips quivered as she spoke. Of
course, painful as the subject was, I could not
refuse to gratify her request, knowing that
Hugh would have wished me to Comply; with
anything she might desire. I felt that in mak-
ing such a demand she evincnd an interest,
weak and tardy though it was, in the man who
had loved her, and whowrcmd ,have given
worlds todiave htard (ll/(.11 that oppression of
interest from her lips. * * ,

I told her all that? knew about my friend’s -
fate, not concealing my own i early suspi-
cions 'of Captain Cameron, who, I said, nour-
ished; as, I well knew, a very bitter dislike
to his comrade Molten. She listened in silence
till i[ had ﬁnished, and then eicIaimad, ab-
mPtY‘ " . V ‘- '  = Li " i

 “ You were right, Major‘CairnsfprdﬂCaptain 
Cameron is in some way implicated ‘in-‘Captain
Melton’s disappearance. I'do‘not [say he has I
killed him-infact’, I: may  thathe is 
_dead—-but that he has seen maie‘amywilth in 
8301.116, :1) Ca ,. #891107.’ "am i
' ' W,” for Gift’what
has really but  memes '11.? 1.8, stillness
()5; indeed ,de  whichever be the. case,
to,  the main who “has worked thiswxcked-

 
SS”. , : ., A i ' , ..
',.Sh‘e.looked at [me'boldlz now: With“ 501‘ head
tip). ‘56:: check new " and, be? 399' 'ﬂﬂshing
messenger ' assume
"  “ '  medians three-1‘
ensures   and for
Cameron, whom Holman

1.
0‘
v: ‘

‘ if,“ YOu ‘ar’é

 
’7' ‘
knows'lt mot easy to wrong, for he is as bad eman
as the sun ever shone on; but in this, at least, he is
innocent. I thought as you do at ﬁrst, and, guided
by the light of my suspicions, I scrutinized his eve
act, in the endeavor to obtain a ciew to my'comrude s
fate; but I was forced at last after many a long and
weary search, to arrive at what I am convinced is
the true conclusion, namely, that poor Hugh Wits de-
genergd‘by s. tiger, asmy brother ofﬁcers at first sup-
os . ’ ‘ '
“I wishIcould thinkwith you,” she answered in
an unconvinced tone. “ That Captain Melton is dead
must, I fear, 'be‘true, that Co tum Cameron had no
hand inhis death I can hard y bring myself to be-
lieve, For alonﬁntime I struggled against my own
convictions to be ‘ ve Captain Camel-en such a; man
as Captain Melton was—such a man, in fact as I

. comd have wished him to be; but now his baseness

has been sO‘fully revealed to “me, and I iemem'ber so
man little things that used to annoy me in him.
who tend now tothrowﬁ clear hton hischaractcr
{that nothtin seems to metoo ' to license him“-
08-11110 be as it could wro him 37 any charge
l'brought against him.” " n8 ' ’ .
'ljhus as we walked homewsrdwe fell into conver-
sationon subjects all moreor less connected with
that ﬁres started. sue mm ,3 or how they had ﬁrst
met Melton 'in Ireland; 0! their rdwehmg and
frugal mode of llv 0‘ to which, however, they soon
did not fear to invite lim‘when‘they found how easi-
ly contented and kindl was’his newt-must as much
at home with them, aux sis friendly‘inlns Intercourse
with them as homes with the gay inhabitants of
Moortown Castle; where he mi 11130, 9 favorite and.
a frequent guest. Then she spa e of his reat talent,
Of the pleasant [days when he taught r some or
the secrets of his and, raised her mess us
some more than! us y-  touch ev need her
Progress and the sax-case of ‘V lessons. ‘ Her voice
w sweet and lowmnd her cheeks ilmhed brl ht-
, as she spoke with real teelin (that truest 0 all

Oquence on" this sub t, ev entl dear to her
) yted more and

thoughts. As I we her I regret

more that Hu had not lived to meet her now;-
When she do to own to herseltond to show to the
world that she loved him. We reached the house at
, endi my ﬁre udiee nstMlss Monroe was'com-

mu Pied? 3533:? it‘dan ' mm m
n ‘ no
my basket, the rein“ of my three hours‘ soon. It

was not budspor and it had given me the Oppor;

wait of penetra. ’ 9. little, beneath cur charming
Naomi-armor of reserve, and hod'enabled me
ﬁnd out. that a. heart beat underneath, closely
Watched and ‘ though that heart might be.
‘ ' I liked « better after that walk,und as I tol-
lowed her into the-bmidast—mom began to tlmk
that maps my triendihad’ not been'so wrong utter
all wggn he committed the ‘hcppmess of his life to

' her keeping. The licenses stopped wllh‘usfor two,

‘  don crime __ gcnemtlom- maveno'doupr

01‘ three weeks, WMziOOh‘i cut fore small house
in a. neighborhood but at 1359, not ﬁnding anything
0! the sort Was to had, they determmcd to move
t9Lon<lon,~und in one or the suburbs of martyqu
my make themselves as comfortoblelu tLlOll‘ very

1' limited-ixissnswould ' unit.
v ,U; 1&nd ~ .. ‘

me and wgecunnot   meet;
‘ nnmd gently, f” I shin! 111% to
enough to inn-“st me with $91

 It ‘ own very we {flewiﬂmr

1 ‘ I
6 ad ‘


,lhl ‘mnetbeafs Jammie; , , .  
I   like  ﬂaw'm-hep.

 
ma .
be sure Lhﬂ felt for me as thehud once tolt’éorghlm;
but that direction for my lest Mend was the bar-
rier between us.- as it was also the connecting link.»
I_knew Well I should never have oocu the poo,
Lon I now did in her regard had I not been Hugh 5

friend; and ourlongest 9.;.d most intimate convert

V i'aliOilS were always on someact of Us life, Graeme

trait, oflzlsnoLIe and unfo o-tten character. 
Was'itnot ' hie! alga myself, that this pearl
. . _ ' co mouse-ardent] desired could, Lo
\-.-01;!agaliit a}:  hm; bee; 1 3t. dish fancy.
1101‘ 898 . ism _  u thew oe, . ar imam-
{men‘s heel-tired then given to men: {cereal-had
no liege. There are some women who love but once,
who: first girlish *rrncy‘is aim :30 love of il‘cir

womanhood. I feared, yet gloricd to Ltlicve, ﬁnal: 4

null her-at the porch while I '-

'gsiziogthe-bon
Vitus turned? wordmo lint whose...
’ _ _ W , ,l .

. 5:939“,

" d: ' ’ g.‘ A
or oust-twee“ Ji-onderr in; imortcrence :neeessary:

_ k manger   
‘  - mgﬁ§%&ipile'

  . , my...
: wavmﬂimgtnue timed 6,

than among the  and advancing toward 1.

H UGH MEL TON.

21,

 
my peerless Maud was one Of these. 'I could not
been she should leave us, though l dared tell her

imitation of her own fearless friendshipns i could
assume. But she must not go ,awuy into those
squalid London lodgings; on that ointhas deter-
mined. Rather, than that shoul happen Iwould
conquer my fem, ur all my“ passionate prayers
and longings into or itying ears, and 113‘ it were
’ sible, nay, if it were niposi‘uble“, win from her a
promise that one day at 1. ast I should have a right
to protect and shelter her from the hardships and
ctgrestgf the strange world into which snewus about
on r. ‘ ‘

 
, CHAPTER X,
AND THUS rr CAME 'IO PASS.

I REMEMBER. well the lovely, morning late in June
when I opened my heart bolero her» u hose entirely
pOSSessed it; not, as I had intended, with deliberate
purpose, turned and prepared at, all points With
Buyers and entreaties against the deulnlsI‘dreadeJ,

ut in broken, disjointed, vogue wows, that yet
made themselves better lelt and understood than

hose I had so often thought over would pmbdhly
have done; She was to leave the next day but one,
yet I had not spo.;en, and though intending to.
speak, could not summon up courageto do so. \. But
accident brought about at last the opportunity for
which I waited and the womb) that could not bacon-
trolled broke from my heart, hetero I knew they
were uttered. I _   '

She was» out somewhere shout the place that
morning quite alone: the girls and my mother were
all-in d Remnt m; of t choose, and I wondered
out to seek her 11 whose presence my heart delighwd .
It was a. glorious morning. I remember yet the,
brilliant summer sunlight making golden almmsron
the shwed’grass'under the old hme the sweet
scent of buy: that ﬂoated by upon the mono, the
lazy humor {lies that fell upon the car as they
hosted in censoless swarms thro the scented
Line blossoms; everything scenic in: a state at
blissful repose, such as .the lows-outer: enjoyed ’on

hot dreary shone where it was “ alwoyeafternoon.”

he was not in the garden: I looked in vain in every
nook for a glimpse of the white dross Iknew so we. -
I would have called, but I darodnot utter alou
that doarnume; I searched and muted.

- I turned at last down toward our little river, that
run ﬂashing and glancing inismzllght and shade
torou manye miie- of the old domain. .It was
deep, though but a smuilxiver, and the current
in parts a crously'strong; Just below the garden

it narrowed n between high rocky banks that rose

perpendicularly to tho howht of about thirty feet

above the water. The whole stream juqt there was,

at the narrowest part, about fourteen feet comes;

but the water looked black and dark, and th : recs-y

Wells on other side toarfully slurp and Jagged. - -

As I sounth down to therriver just there I herd-

ly, expected-tome Maud at that t, but I thou; ht

i very rebnblel should find her either on, u;.dcr

some 0 d. cheetnut trees that sprood'their dark fo-

bg far out over the water. I'» knew the sumo In

my. (under-lhclr‘drooplng branchesch her in-

voriteseet. *Ii’ound her sooner thonl‘hnd expected:

idlhpproa’ohod the: stream,wl;ioh, though it here
',tan doc dualism; mode enigma {minim ,bubblixg;
:noise'pi f soundioféwicessstizucb on my car, an .
_ k, Ipemived her unthoothcr silo
,oféthe liven m'convcrsstlon with it,

mm , wmﬂiolyfanngidrt‘gmy cﬁr :.:;’: r , 2; 
'F ‘  ahnglra no '- mw’ W can
{harm listening Wﬁ’h 

 
u when i dream
the unkno sud ,e , -turr.ing revcc cd to my 53¢
tonishcd» ($3 tlieg'lggllmxmoturcs of Mrs. Lorne
eron, now distorted 3 1031931
 a i it? A - I

as w Wurst

. ' emu g mm‘thm Md
riagterwdgumlggmhink ittwul

cont
er.

«3mm; right luxsupposlog‘ I am aller miss
5 I H , l

«i? Mea-

» “I‘m Miss Mm certainly” are lied in
rather than by in; nice. “Lut you fave (L033,—

vantnge ovu- me, an cannot “maneuver having
matg‘m’heforo.’ '-  y. i z __ i v , .v
“v emu;- hgm. n," wavered tie stranger." “I

oomefroina hr: ‘14}, my lo  to do men
the?)in saw you: ' from a his of £11336 and
tree 9. a. , ‘

B . ” , . .
“1 L10 not understand you," who .,rr."‘. f‘T'm‘ble

 
'r l i "  ' 0:5 them muslin; mime
minute Watched ihm ‘. then

nothing of this, and met her always with as good an i

, whm‘back' ’

omit-ix;th w —. ..
s loom usuaeecetiaeafamr Tundlluniln

rand pain while hen 
.qu ' a. .. . m

j:  memtodo  donut ‘ n

x We“  - ‘ “ my seat. ‘Kdmihudmfi
- a " , ~ > way towel-diner Mont/om which men that tide;
‘ . of the rive-rth ,trom theshouso, and. be ﬁrm-
Wm  om ~‘y tehank to. that. cm which I- -
M 1‘ ‘ J ‘ , stood watchin them. She immahm mule
v.- te hand at, ‘  I never fon- hm: t'tew‘ undredz‘ryamdsﬂ'um inhumane new
tiered now, at my 1W1 mmm;1omy ,won- 3 and had arrived utilize Bohher'a Leap, ad, to
cloned how, 01* kW! '  'licr narrow part cube river I have described “assailed
heart was wi hfhlm,’ heat ., ‘liortyrwee of v «from somo‘oldtamliy trodlﬂon, I when n
= the stron r will and held her WWW! would. it lady, very huﬂsomoiyatnn‘d. though her drets here
"was w I would 60,1 told " could evident marks oi! wear and travel on it,

, 1:
yards from whergrmetwo ladies w

s that he intended

x31; “5‘35. 
L712

 
“must all Luv-old 1...: ides-(null; .;.x.‘;-. l: drum ‘

 
good, it we look i t it rightly, if not, for our h-
nient~but only sin .briu rs shame; and, ough
God‘s grace helping me, stem ‘0! disgrace shall
never rest on my name through any act 01 wine." ‘

' “0h lady, beentiiul, cold, «proud English lady, '
Cried this strange visitor, and Maud tethered let
voice and accent had a fareign unfamiliar sound,
“ have you ever loved? Do-you' know what it is to
haveone mu enthro in your heart—ems love ihe
sole earthly good ‘3 cu cumulus smile clearer to you
than the summer sunlight, the ' wing tones oi his
voice pleusanter to yourear their e most enchun.-
ing music? Do you know what it is to dream of him
by night and watch for :his step b3 day—40 feel, the
morning his presence is not wit _you,,bluokcraud
lonelier than the gloom of the wild monsoon? Have
you loved like this, lady and then felt that another
eye, brighter perhnim »t n yours, a. ¢smlle more
Sparkling and mirth ul, was drawmg'the heart you
loved, the one treasure you craved for, irom you?

' Do you know what it is to suﬁer thug!”

“Poor thing " Maud answered, tenderly, “it is'in-
deed a; tearful fate that you describe. The man
who could treat you, thus is not worthy of you. Give
your love only to the noble and true. and it will
never be thrown back as a worthless gift into your
bosom. A true heart knows always the vulue of a
tuna love, and even when it cannot return it, it sees
the worth, of the prize and is grateful. It gain-poor
soul, have been deceived the tinsel xii or. of a.
mock affection, your into indeed sad: but when
can I do .10 help you? For empty ty is wow: ,
and you must have desired ,souu, matron: me ~
ymicnmesomrtoseeme” * ‘ ‘, =

“ But you love him,“ the women cried. anally.
“ and he is not noble and hum you lanoya It is
he who has loved me who now . res to war you:
Le is deceiving you, for I am burrito—his will!
wife, do you hear? He destroyed mycemﬂcm, or
I would show it to you. Oh lady. dear lady, for
your sake, for mine, hang naming to any to him 1‘

Hand guessed now w 0 her, visitor use, and to
whom she alluded, and raw thnt the r creature
was-almost if not quite, erased, and, V . mwenad,

nt . , ,
8‘“ Ilgnow yxodulam his wife, if you relic? to Captai‘ri
Cameron' a, miss, you solemr , ~, on m W01
as a lady 'to Mvepggl hing more to do with  But
v. ill you not tell me how you came here?“ i thought
ypuwereinln‘ “. i

“I could not rest in India " she replied. “1: knew
coming 0 England early in the
your to marry you—«he told mes—so I thought I
would seekycu out, and Xingu were kind and wise
and good, as they say Eng A girl: are I would tell
ynum .and et on to tillrezplty~ on me. I
Boldﬂlgil I Mtoselfnhnt raised. moneyun Linen-gt
w enou ,opsy ,r j . over. o
1: got tire?! of com to. I bored
him—solhad heard nothing {run and him for a
long time, and left nilhout his knowledge. And
now Ilave Famed .113 Point; you have hard n 5*
story and pi led me; but I but am I the (er torit?
lie will gov;- love nietggeiin, 14:31:13!1 itéhvzgud  better

was sec 12 e once“ , . er.
And so I wiil'g' qulere  made q 3““

ihmshepnusedsudd~ . .“lﬂrdo, our. ,tugise
will not hold, and he wi- marry on. on ginger.
oioo; dimensional): mat.  ﬁrm-ﬁll, Rn 1’0

Em. Comelaldymemetﬁ Jocks ,; 1,; r .;
Lueél’onecau ,. _.W5W‘MMWWP»WN .1
W 2’  ’ - -‘» E‘r rest-g“ ., 2v " '

        
 .e' y 
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mm 1.1..» i “ ‘7 i ‘1’ t3": 1:, ,
rifdetn . ‘~ denunciation”
wildfire“. moo! Ber-ea! .ugtao

 
.. aluminium"; _- ,
1‘0 , f , ' , , .
mm gown new i

' - hithemntiméiﬁéﬁﬁﬁ"“  . x  , 7 '
atlasgn‘rliy QWQammm “‘1

,  ll
narrows ,,  do

iteasll .amllnm   
' ‘fytin be 3 entrailnion 

More At any methth 3m

his or death; I must £17.. Hhepiaoe “$111313:
loop was cticcble m, stout hm
ml PS» ‘
cronhod about! risenmherteet‘mdw ' "-
out her hand-to  who lingered over “ta: ,.
log of her daint morals. I rock this in gt a, .
glancedgg ck ﬁfewtyards fcra. mm As!
came chap, rs. ‘an pezuei me,
and cilﬂl, wildly: ' lama ‘M *'
3‘39 ‘0 be 1181‘ Edward when I am «.nel"
w ,seeingme re ' gd ’

was, m~ . sea and '
clung with we at that dies um the her a
mund~she draggﬁier tartan?“ . ’ 

.Therewasnot much ti 1 J spare  r Wed”
the liver and landed we? ﬂied“:

butcherethth overhanging  V; butane

 
“no hall.no,taave._ » " *3
1 witin Comet You shutout ,

 
Jinnah. ,

 
‘  and drew her toward me,

 
22

 
had caught hold of a small sagging with one hand,
and held for her iiie. At my t speed I ran to-
ward them. Never even in my school-days had I
: t over the ground so fast; but Maud’s stren 11
failed her, and she was airbady on the edge. ne
spring more, and I grasped her dress as the maniac,
fpulhn her ﬁercei forward, sprang off the bank
into a chasm b o_w. Maud was carried over the
edge by that last Wild effort, but the dress held firm
for an instant, though it seemed to give in every
direction; the next minute Ihad my arm round her,
and drew her onto the bank, scarcely looking in my
agony at the rings of light ﬂoating wide over the
I) water on the spot where the wretched madwoman

sunk.

Assoon as I had placed Maud in safety I returned
again to the water. A little way down the river I
saw .for an instant the poor woman’s light dress
ﬂoating, but before I could get to thespot it had
sunk Eastily I throw off my coat and
Elunge in but had scarcel done so when she rose a

ttle wayfurther down. lollowed, but again she

. sank out of my 3 ht. though I‘dived ain and
V again, and s out a ong time in search of t 9 body
it was in v n, and 1 Waspt last compelled to desist
until I wild send men With drags to- continue the
 I then returned to where I had left Maud,
and found her quite unconscious. Shehad borne up
'“bravel while the dancer lasted, but the sudden
revu on of feeling on
wered her.
lg her in charge of my mother, hurried back with
the necessary men and implements to continue the
search. After many hours’ fruitless anxiety and
. 'Wadarkness forced us to leave 01!; and though we
continued for several days seeking the bod it
was never found. We supposed tne current ad
carried it down to the Severn, and that in the depths
of that river it had been lost beyond all hope of
.recbveiy. ‘ ‘
This Was the fate of the lovol and unfortunate
' woman who. had been so foolish y trustful aslto ro—
- pose conﬁdence in the faith and love of such a man.
as ‘Captain Cameron. I, who had seen her in hgr
beautyand conﬁning affection, felt deep pi ry for her
sad endi and it only added oncncoro‘ motive to the
many t actuated me in my hatred to Captain
Cameron. _ - .

When I returned to the house that evening, Maud
was alone in tuc library. On seeing me sue came
frankly toward me, saying: ‘

“Major Cairnsford, I can never thank you as I
‘Ought for having saved me from inst unhappy
woman. I owoyou life, and I hope 3 on may not
ﬁnd me wawa ow can I show you my grati-
tude- are so feeble?"

“I! you really feel that I have done you a service,
you can do me a great favor Ly staying IOBULI‘ w....i
us,” I answered, feeling, as 1 took her hand and
gazed down on her sweet, earnest face, that the mo-
ment was at last come, and that I should never have
a better opportunity of pi ' my case. than at
that moment. ‘

' ‘ ‘-‘ If you really wish it,” she replied, “I will ask
mamma to eta ; but Iain afraid you Will have more

' than enough 0 us. We have alreadybeen here {‘0
" 3m, you will repent ever having askedus w the

euldthis and turned,l ' hin,toher
that the 1:53ng on the sofa; lgth caigight her

I want you to live here aways as the mis-

t seeingherfaceiiushassbe tried to

ﬁnding herself safe had ever-

Ed

I‘ 
a"

K “ ; ‘

 
' on. mine to skim,
ﬁthont love, and that is

eves me to

it

a,” she said
in. ‘f‘ I cannot marry
r I me forever.
' A You cag‘ngt £21k hm; a ‘
thigf, _ canno . .
- Butyguw‘g be mad with despair, and held her
'5 . ‘ ' asshe tried to withdraw them. _ v
="‘ Q‘f‘I‘wulnot glnvfyou up " I cried. “I have lived a
 ' life fro in youth, and now when the cup
'” ’01 h%lness seem about to be ented to inc, is
it to‘ dashed from my lips? is there. no way in
which I can move you, nothing that can induce you
to alter your determination i”
“ Nothing . Major Cairnsford," she answered,
* rather haughtily, “ and I must insist on your loavmg
me. You are not acting like yourself, and are
annoyin and pulsing me more than I ever thought
you won d do. ’ ' 7 ~ . M
“Then go " I aided, releasing her hand and step-
from or. ‘ Go, since you are so cold-hearted
to razors andrlcadings cannot
tne man who you yourself
It was a mean speech, and» I felt it to be, so at the

A“; ,,. _

I carried her to the house, and lcav- ‘

Leave me, I emreat you, Iiajor.

,in for them a second time.

I water-jugs on their heads and soft

 
 r ,,  w:

 
HUGH MELTON.

time, but despair forced‘it from me, in the vague
hope that it might induce her to reconsider her res...
olution. She s pped, looked at me ﬁxedly for a
minute, and! then answered:

“ If you claim my life as due to you because saved.
by you, I give it, having no right to withhold it; only
I did not know you sought it on those terms.”

At that moment she despised me. I heard it in
her tone, but I was like a shipwrecked mariner,
perishing from thirst, who drinks of the salt-water
rolling around , and dies mad from the fatal
drau ht. I leaned breathlessl forward.

“ uat way or only way,” cried; “ I have your:

romise. You will ove me in time, my own one, if'
. ovation like mine can gain aﬂection, as people say
it can.

She shrank a little from me as I drew her toward
me, and said, faintly:

“ Only give me a ‘ttle time It is so sudde andI
was unpre . You will ve me a year, w you
not? Bur y, you will not me to marry you fora
year?" She drew back a little from me as she: said

his, and pressed her trembl hand to her forehead,
saying, as if to herself, “ His 'endl Have you: lion
gotten so soon? I can never forget.”

There was intense pain in her tone, reproachto
me who dared utter words of love to her; reproach
to herself, if she had in .any way, by word or d
enccu m infatuation. But I was blind ,
mad an cri , bitterly: V

“ (5h, love, let the dead bury their dead! We are

oung and strong, and have years of life before‘us.
all we pass them in lonely mise because death
has carried 03 the best and nobles ? My love is as.
true and earnest as his was, the h I can never; be
loved as he; yet what I desire, w t I guy for, is
not the love he won and might had he ved, have
worn to roudly.. o; I crave only what ,)
thelast aint embers of a ﬁre .too sacred to. burn
afresh on another shrine. The year younsf I should
be heartless indeed to refuse; till then I vnll wait in
patient hope, having faith that my lone wall win
yours at last. ’ .

And so it was settled. I knew by the tone of her
voice that she hoped long era the year had '1":
would have forgotten her; but I felt than. even had

my love been less deep than it waskmich a: woman, .

once known, could neverhe forgot n. She. was so
unrelent from the girls one meets generally maso—

cicty~so gay. yet so tender, so fearless. yet so gen- 1

tie socarclcss of herself, so true to others. I said

boiling of this to her, but urged her to-remain with

her arents at Cairns till I should again see her: for
I 1111 made up my mind a' once to. return. for that
was our to my regiment in India, to try singing 1
its \ggest scenery to pass away the; time thatap~'
pcarcd endless to my longing heart. .'
But here also my pcrsuasions were of little avail.
One promise only could I exact from maud z, it was:
that she and her parents should remain a month
longer with my mother and sisters before launching
themselves upon the dismal ocean‘oi'llnndlom I
A day or two after thisl left home again,
sad hcart, but a ht h before me.
what was a year! .t a
storm '

scescd m darling’s esteem. and t
Cisplaoerge. Whatcause bad i themto
asked myself as we merrily
sparxli the summer
1 to w after all. Only
hahtiela‘a iﬁyearl' Butgtmlild Mn an
W ' 8W8 as s

y furnish tic

th whmsuhswouid

[233) la atm , htlovo’sfeetonmymtnrn.

‘ Ibi’i'iitbastlesyin slamming
d .n‘

, t

awhilewespayonwardto  
in Isthmus. . 

“m” m

think ofmy love's fair sweet (ace and sunny. hair,
count ha

hadtewc mountain _ . howj
thsluybetweenmoand .
bright dreamsai‘d ve,-itis

m ,7

h it sﬂgcted me little at time—in fact,
at magnum and hail conteman-
sat on amusem '

- Wewere‘doinﬁat’h‘e Pyramids. uis thecustotn of
tmvelers in this d. went along with others. I
had seen them before, but to avoid singularity went
and Whig). thereul roamed
own from m y occup myse ’
what! Maud (5’5 calcd her in my th ts th
consciousness of right) might be do the old
house at Cairns. I was sitting on abloc of stone ly-
lngatsome little distancefromthe Great Pyramid on
the golden sand of the desert. I had seletie 1 this sl-
tion as commandi a Eyed view collectively of t ose
monuments of man s s ii and patience, d mused,
as I have said, whilssmoking and tﬁszmg a tly on
the wondrous scene. Suddenl ere arose before
me. I know not how, an old in hered such an
object as is never seen out of an Arab v age and
that makes onewondcr if it could ever have, in
young, graceful, and fawn—like as the maidens one
sees moving about the some encampment with
gazelle-like e es.

“ You are happy now, noble Sir,‘ she croa' inx

, her hoarse guttural Arabic; “happyas a 

   
with a. ;udswmwmretm mmth ,

Alter , . Fora _ Istood stupeﬂed; then the ludicrous

ortnmeindeed'tothose, = otthesimation struck me and I la bed as ‘,

‘1 ‘ifth 'ﬁeﬁd‘iﬁhumﬁno h lTh nkH

‘ ey o spro . a eaven '
p gisdnasternsmnd "

marlin; rived tn

 
But "  like dew: it fades before-the mornin
Shall t
The soundof her words hadamourn-ful ring '

 
self impatiently.

“There,”I said, throwing her a few plasters; “I
know my fortune. You could tell me no better.
Leave me now.”

swered: ,
“ If I tell you your fortune now, noble Sir. it may
save you many a bitter hour afterward. The bright

 ’,. and many a fair rose-bud is cankered ere it
0 in
“ What is it you want with me?" Ianswered. “ I
have ven you money. Cannot you leave me?”

'1‘ e money is very welcome, ’ she replied, “and
the Arab. woman does not refuse it; but because
your face is fair and your hand open, she would tell
you a little of what lies behind the vsil of the future,

whelming. ,,

“Say 011.. than. good woman ” I replied care!
feeling, that it was quite hopeless to t and get rid
of her while she thou ht she had t g to com-
municate. “Not the. I believe in t e fortune you
tell-me,” I added, “for mine is clear and and open,
one that those who run may read, but because you
seem to wish it, I allow you.”

f‘Ies, ﬁgs " she replied, “ your future indeed

‘ before you clear and 0
name, a princely fortune, a fair w‘ who does not
yet love. yombest of all, but In ,and _ most likzlﬁ
will, do so: when love has time o beget love.

- only grow brighter with years; but the old Arab
woman sees more. She sees a miserable slave toil-
. mg m a far country; hehas been straight
and talk «you, but intace lar fairer—such since as
women love to look on. Toll and. gum .and grief
, have bent his stalwart form and lined isbrcad open
‘ brow, but at he shall step between you and hap—
‘  an mar your fortunes. Be Wise, be warned
; time. Return to your own country and watch
, over-your love." . . ._ ‘ ,
She turned to, go, but Lhalt’ unused,- half fright-
. em d as I knew not What vague danger herrwords
i w mod to point to, called on her to stop.

“Tell me, where is he, and who is he, this, slave of
whom you speak? My recent-e not wont to fear
81m \.8.’

f‘True," the
glidin awn more nimhly thanI could have‘belleved
r possib c--“ jue; yet they may fear, '

is, one who will return from the de

1 100k for her,excited even. out of my'calm laziness

lﬁv her mystic and

, ,uwhero oculd. I ﬁnd her;

‘ airtheworda seemed to ban , pervading every sight
0  H

ur fehows wou laugh
ourme not like one dog
cod looks do not always our the do even among
he most ordinary of them." turns 01! to rejoin
our party; but on the way back, as we centered
8.10 on our httle nimble donkey: I could hardly

re nfrom a hearty laugh, a h I really
talk when I thought he! Holdall: old witc
mistake the not ' ' gar N m -
o a
rest or wry-yang, my“. museums ar-
Our fellow: were  to see back
I no the to m that eron ad
of it . nee:
m a at w , ml. to him.
Uni  , as soon
a. “W” n“ '“m°’""'”"i‘t
, V '0 ll
mean,   leave and
moreof , w, i new, , man‘slife
hadalteredfmt ~ » a , :.
 atmo the ﬁrst time we met,
f‘I ~  ' withthe mischiefyou
have dune-me with low at»; at 811:7 “30,1 am
glad one a: have not  the reward you
0?: ~  new you can-
n protein“ the you have, ._ 1' say. for
the mattcr‘of. that, she would be glad (noth to have
youi but it would not mannhookm w.‘
“ should advise. you, sin Common, to leave
Miss Meanss's namehlone. e
me or with as well take this

an

Isha‘lVliﬁet‘ycu kicked out of the regiment
in a way you not like. I-know a little more
about you than

for your good "

Cameron _
two, then thinking discretion the better part of
valor, turned on his heel and walked 01:.

“Take careyou do not get a knife in your back
some dark night, Cairnsfor . said Solace, looking
up from his paper; “that fellow looks as it he
would do for you." r “

, “ Pooh l” I answered. I do not think he has dar—
ing enough tgrgut a fellow out of the way; he is too
great a cow , and eads being found out. By

baby, didn’t you tell me mes was selliig out?
Wiggfis looking for the step? Will it do you any
8“ " - ,

Certainly the climate did not agree with me, for I
I had not been ﬁve months back at ill-— before the

 
f.

    
ell your excellency’s fortune?" 
them that jarredon my golden visions. 1 shook my-é,

3,

She gathered the coins up eagerly enough, but an- 1

morning sun does not always betoken a glorious -.

its-she uttered the last word she disappeared and I
V denl'y- behind: a: rocky. boulder. and when I rose to 5

one else. :You may
advicein aagendly. spirit (1 M‘sulded by it, as 
otherwise

the other fellows, and caution you ,
literally glen-ed at me for a minute or ‘

l
l
1
l
i

that when the hour comes the blow may be less over- I

l
i:

'5
i

n—an ancient ‘-

. that you havebeiore you now, and you think it will I}

lanswered withoutlookihg’ back, and i

this one, for he ,

é

ominous words she was one. f
only cnt‘hesuitry csert»!

sin

I

titer infconnect‘lon with I

a‘
i

a

1

 
J

HUGH MELTON.

23

 
doctors found it necessary to order me a complete
chan e of air. They wished me to_return home-
but i: at I had determined not to do till my term of
probation had ex ired, and therefore adopted the
other alternative t ey prescribed, which was to go
up to the hills, far up into a. really cool climate, and
there pass in time until I found in health re«
established. in plan suited me we enough. I
was desirous of going after big game among the
hills, and determined to strike out quite a. new line
of my ownin the wildest and least 'known art of
the Himalayas. My preparations did not t 8 long
to make; 1 did not Wish to have too much roughing
so took some natives to ca ammunition, tent and
baggage, with a few other little luxuries I did not
care to be without; and last, but not least, I brought
with me my trusty soldier-servant, Adams, 8. man
who had been in my service almost ever Since I had
joined, and who was not only active and enterpris-
, but understood the ways of the natives much
better than is at all usual among that class of men.

I am not going to 've a detailed account of all
my ramblings; mdee , I think far too much space
is alread occupied by my personal adventures; but
it would ‘ almost impossible to relate events, so as
to give a correct idea of them, Without a strong ad-
mixture of unavoidable egotism.

Day by day we penetrated further into the _moun-
talus, and our success in hunting was very fair-one
or two 5 lendid bear-skins still attest our luck; but
our trop ies would doubtless have been far more
numerous but for the incident I am about to relate.

One evening we found ourselves .near a large and
populous village—town I suppose I ought to call it
~inha'bited by a people who seemed scarcely to un-
derstand my men’s ialect, and who ewdently had
seen few white people before. My men declared
that they appeared to have heard very little about
our victorious English nation, and did not seem to
feel the awe they should have done at beholding re-
presentatives of so owerful an empire.

Adams did not t ink itv ident to remain near
them; they looked with suc covetous eyes on our
arms and implements, of which, however they did
not know the power or the use; so that I felt safe in
the pleasant conviction that the discharge of my re-
volver would put to ﬂight an army of t em. As it
was not convenient to go farther that night, I camp-
ed in a pleasant valley outside the town; and sent a
message to their chie or head man that I would y
him a visit next mornin . e a peared inclin to
be friendly, and respon ed to t b sending me a
goat and a bag of rice. which furnis ed a good sup-
per to mv whole arty—rather a happy circumstance
as we had but I ttle game with us that night, and
would otherwise have been on short commons.

Next morning I was astir early. and by way of
passing the time till ten o’clock, when the great man

eld his levee, I determined to stroll through the
town, and see what kind ofa lace it was, and how
the inhabitants lived. Ifoun the houses well and
strongly built—I suppose on account of the cold at
night, which is often very intense—but the streets
were no exception to the general rule in Oriental
towns and were chieﬂy remarkable for the ﬁlthy
state in which they were kept. The must note-
worthy thiiw about the place seemed to be a large
building that was being erected on a small hill just
outside the town. I went toward it, more from
we it of something to do than from any particular
curiosity, as I sup sed it to be a palace for their
__ chief or atom 19 or some god. There were gangs
of slaves wor g at it, chained together by long-
heavy iron chains. The poor fellows seemed to ﬂu
* it hard work, toiling under the hot sun weighed
down with such ,ponderous muscles. I stopped
and watched them with some pity they were so
bent, so thin, so wretched-looking. I scanned one
face after another, and certainly their look was evil
enough; but how could it be otherwise, leading such
a life, with no whisper of hope or, word of encour-
agement ever falling on the ear? The overseer or
task-master, a big brutal-looking fellow, strolled
from one gas to another, constantly glng down
his heavy wh p with sounding lash- on the shoulders
of some offender, more, it seemed to me, for his
. own brutal pleasure than because ,hment was
at uncalled for. My eye traveled owl down the
ﬁghters me, as they one by oneg noedu‘ at
' e strange ure before them. At length it reac ed
the last man thehne, and a puzzled feeli came
over me as to where I had seen a face like hat of
the all!“ before me. He was working away steadily,
looked. and. wondered for a second or two he-
foreIremarked with a curious sense of bewilder-
ment, that, unlike all the rest of the gang, he was a
white man. Yes, there could be no doubt about it, e
belonked to my own race; perhaps it was that total
difference in character of ression and feature
that dist Iiislies our race mm others that had
made me a ﬁrst i_m
811d face, (1960].? 1m? b suffering and toil, and half
hidden by Wlld curling ocks and long ﬂowing beard.

Just as I had made; this discovery and had come to,

t is conclusionnthe man next him. who had been
looking at me With some interest, touched his arm
and directed his attention toward me by a word or
two uttered in a low vmce. The white slave turned
his head with a quiet, graceful movement that awoke
a sort of vague remembrance in my mind, and raised
eyes toward me. For a moment we gazed at
each other in silence; then, With a kind of wail, the
words broke from his lips:
“Cairnsfordl O, heavens, do you not know me?"
“ Hugh! Is it possible? You here!” was all I
could utter, as I sprang toward him, and grasped his
trembling toil-worn hands in mine. ,
The Overseer was on the other side of the build-
ing, so we were safe from his observation; and Hugh
leaned his head on my shoulder and sobbed, the ag-

. onizing convulsive sobs of intense emotion.

'ne Iliad seen-before that thin >

 
Pain
and joy, too powerful, too exquisite almost for mer-
tal frame to bear, struggled in his breast.

“ 1 had lost all hogs—I was like one dead,” he
murmured when he ad recovered yoice to speak.
“ But you will save me now? You Will not leave me
again?” he asked with piteous entreaty.

“ Surely not, old friend and comrade, my more
than brother. This is the happiest day of my life,
as I have found you; and I Will never leave you
again till you are safe and free as I am now ”

“ Yes; but on must leave,” he answered. push-
ing me from 'm hurried! . “Do not let the over-
seer s'e us together, or ema persuade the chief
not to let you have me. When
comes, go to the chief and ask to buy me. Do not
be deterred by any difficulties—only secure my free-
dom. But 0 now; do not let us be seen together; it
may ruin ."

 saying he turned again to his work and as the
overseer rounded the corner of the building and a -
Feared in sight, I was alread a few paces oi! . wa -

ng quietly away. How my cart danced asI bent
my steps toward a shady grove of trees near our lit-
tle encampment] Hugh was not dead; he lived, and
would soon be at liberty, and through my means.
0, it was joyful! I seemed to tread on air, and
thought with rapture of the welcome the poor old

fellow would get at A——- when he returned, and

how we would all try to efface from his mind recol-

lection of that terrible captivity. Then he must
come home to see his friends in England and get.

set up, after all the hardships he had eased through
in such a climate. 1 would mana
should be going home too, to ll aud~ Harem

thoughts stopped; my eart seemed to stand sti ,
and the hills around me a peared to reel as the
truth ﬂashed on me. This ugh whom I had loved,

whom I had saved, or was about to save, from a. liv~.

ing grave, was Maud’s lover; with’ his return my
hopes were over. No more watching betwixt hope

and fear for a half-tender, half‘merry glance; no
more wandering in the summer woods; no more pas-i

sionate love~prayers to, lips that, while not consent-
ingi did not wholly refuse. Gone, all
lig thad passed away from the hillside, the lory
from. he golden morning; love’s dream had een
med and had vanished like the sun in a stormy
sunset. l3ut not yet; surely not yet. “I am not
bound,"'I cried, “ to shipwreck my own life. What
is this man to mother I should give up more than
life itself for him? If he wishes to be free why does
he not escape, as thousands have done before him?
None know that he is here. Adams was not with
me; he is still packing up the tent. , Come, I will set
off at once; none will be the wiser. Every man for
himself mustbe the motto of this world, and once
away from this place I shall again breathe free .”

I half rose from the bank on which I had fal en in-

my first agony when the dreadful truth broke on me;
but before I made a step forward a voice within me
seemed to say: '

“ 0 false friend, can you leave the man you love,
or say you love, to die a lingering miserab 6 death,
that you may secure your own happiness? Grant
that you lose your love, what is your ass to his, who

(in. V g on his ed existen lost to love
and II ity~eveigthing that makes ' e endurable

one forever? ve youno pity, that you can leave
he, thus??? ' v .

“But I love her, Ilove her," I half murmured in
answer tomy ownthonghts. “The trial is-too bit-
ter. Who couldpass through it?"

“ Would he act thus were hein your place?” the
same inward voice tedv—“he, the upright and-
true-hearted. Would let his own selfish eellngs
condoms his friend-to such fate, or even his worst
enem

“Ityis true tootrue," I groonediuan h. “Must...

leave him in spite of myself: But , why did I
come here? W t evil spirit drove me into these
wilds to make such a discovery? 40 Hugh, 0 my
love, can I be true to on both, and to 113qu also!
Icannot; it is impo ble. Then, God h pingme, I
will be true to you, let me suffer no I may.“ For a
museum“ a a...“ at" “is”;
we oa r use;
failedme, and I said: “If the chief sends me e-
foreIcan tofflwill domy for his release-
butifIﬂn everything I .
Solresolved with mysel as I rose and turned
toward my tent. There I found the faithful Adams
had pre red my breakfast, not thinking Iwould
leave he ore the chief’s hour of audience. I could,
not touch it, and told him to get ready for start
with the utmost haste, even while in my heart”
loathed myself for the course Iwas taking. As I
walked up and down‘imder the blazing sun, waiti
for Adams to canfplete his preparations, I lamentgg
over what had allen me. _ I thought in that dark

,hour‘ only of myself and of my love who was also hi

s
and who, I almost vowed in my wild (I should
never again behold him. But something-shame I,
think—when I thought of his true friendship,- with-
held me from this sin; still my whole soul rebelled
against my fate, and at last the tempter that had
tempted me to abandon my friend took another and
more specious form, while he urged me never to
give up my love without a struggle.

“ It would be unmanly, cowardly, feeble- ii'lted,”
he whispered. “ Rather bind your friend w ose life
you have sawd, and who therefore owes you every-
thing—bind him by a solemn oath never to go near
her or to see her more. Tell him you have her
promise, and that the ha piness of your life dependS
on your obtaining her; ewould rather die a thou-
sand deaths than, after such a conﬁdence, come be-
tween you and her. Let him remain in India When
you go home: if she hears he is alive. she Will
naturally conclude he has forgotten her. She will

6 hour of audience.

t at for him; I.

gone. The

' knewé as well as he, th

 
‘ contrast his ﬂckleness with your constancy, and the

result will be certain. The love once his will re-
vert to you; and if in after life they ever cross each
other's paths, you ma look calmly on their meet-
ing, for her heart wi be yours, and be. bound by
his promise, will avoid her presence, so that she Will
never know by what means your happiness was
secured.”

I should have spurned these thou hts from me
with loathing but wastooweak, an still brooded
over them w ile waiting when a messenger came
from the chief, saying he would see me now. It
was a full hour before his usual time for iving
audience; but his eagerness to see the stranger ad, I
suppose, made him deviate from his custom. I
never troubled myself about his reasons, however,
but followed the messenger mechanically, thinking
bitterly, “fate is indeed against me' I cannot now

at off without seeing the chief and I must ask for

is man’s release, as I decided to do, if I could not
get away in time." _

Yes, I had become so lost to all good feelings that
I mentally called him “ that man,” and for a min-
ute almost hated him. Then, with a sudden revul-
sion of feeling, I remembered that he was my own
and only friend, dearer tome, as I had often felt
than any brother could have been. As I thought of
all the years we had passed together. and the
affection we had felt for each other, I shook oi! the
tempter boldly, and determined that nodan or or
difﬁculty, no selﬁsh hopes or fears, shoul ever
cause me to desert my friend. At Ian h I found
myself before the great man, but indeed remember
little. of what passedhonl that I presented my
small offerings, wheremthv , hoped to opitiate h s
favor. They were gracious] _accepte and I then
askedto purchase a slave, w ch request. though it
evidently sur rised him not a little, was also rant-
ed; and by. e middle of the afternoon my riend
was restored to me, my adieux were spoken to the
dark-skinned chief, and we were wending our way
merrily homeward. ‘ - '

Merril , I said: what a mockery isin that word!
If mer ment has in a. throbbin brain, in aforced

laugh, and a breaking heart, t emindeed .I was

merry. As to my com nion, perhaps he was so
truly, but I doubt it; allﬁppiness has its alloy, and
his was disturbed by doubts and fears as to what
might have ha pened in his absence.

I soon told in everythingexcept the one thing
that concemed him and myself most nearly, thong
still the course I had determined to ursue gathered
shape and substance in mybram. ain and again
I was on the point of telling liim my position, and
exacting his miss, and every time, before the
words escape my lips, I checked them. thinking,
-“ There is enty of time, and I cannot damp-his joy
so soon. will tell him another da ."

ood fellow you are, arlie i" said my

had told him all. As I thought of the
treachery I meditated, and heard these trustiii
words, uttered in the old frank voice, I felt the bloc

rush to my face for very shame. He then ht me so

ood because I had saved Maud from meron.

at would hevsay if he knew I had saved her for
myself, and that, too, knowing she loved him still?

At that moment I thought myself the most con-
temptible of created things, and as he laid his poor
worn hand ently on my arm iflexing: “ What is the

matter wit you? you look I felt that I had
indiegd sunk low, to think of wronging one so tender
on ma . , r

“ It is n ,"’ I murmured; “ I feel alittle worn
out by exoitement. that is all. Do notspealr to me
for a little. and itwillpassoﬂ.” . Then. “we rode
on in silence, side b side,I madeavow that God

hel 1.: me, I would as . truston an my heart
tol me he would have been tome had ourpoIii-ions
been altered. I felt better once this resolution was
taken; before, I had feared to meet his
dreaded the touch of his honest band; now,
"mm "‘1? "r ' iii-K; dshi To»... tied
o, 0 or my n .t suf-

fering, soldilhumbly ho ll? would beseentgybeai-
the test. Not but thatI “Minefiean
pass thr an many times myresolution waver—
ed as I thought of the love I ht have won, and
my heart would w sick and slot as I
the ours was doomed to a lonely, dis-
a man; for I felt that passion'was one
no tobeu j ted orlived do «the more tran-
sient Wm my youth begin: it was the
last and deepest. love my heartcoul w andI
shrank with natural repu ce from the res

respect before me. And on Hugh. Poor fellow!
K3, kne nothin but that his love was safe and
unwon, co ddo lit e but talk of her and his pros-

; for she was or now, as cor as he was, and

{ﬁt seemed some ow to aﬂo him unmitigated
satisfaction; though Why ﬁhe Prospect of being able
to starve 8.10 With her, instead of livin in luxu
together; shou d be specmlly delightful, know no .
In this way we trave ed back to ---, and I forced
myself to seem mom. and to lend a sympathetic
ear to all Melton‘s day-dreams. Then, hardest task
of all, I had to comfort and reassure him. when the
ﬁainful conviction would overwhelm him that the

elton Maud Meares . had loved was young, active,
tall, and handsome. very different from the bent,
brown, enfeebled man who now rode beside me.
That he would regain much, ahnost all, indeed, of
his former good looks in time I truly believed; but I
at eighteen months of priva-
tion, oil, and misery had left their mark on him in
characters that would never be effaced: that there
were wrinkles on his brow no soft white ﬁn ers
could ever smooth away, and shadows in his eep
sad eyes no light of merry laughter could ever chase
outo their do the.

At A—--— be Kit the change trouble had wrought in

 
' we.“

   
at
sage ‘ n
‘  wubestsmtmmet

o
, > ,Wofme
g edid not stop

column ﬁrst the

24

HUGH MELTON.

 
him  . When he found that even those of, his
 who had loved him best seemed to find
some difﬁculty in recognizing him, and the ﬁrst min-
ute we were again alone together he turned to me
with a strange fear in his questioning eyes that was u

teens to see. v

-‘ “Tell me, Charlie,” he asked, “do you think she
will,  me, changed as I am?" under this '
question saw there lurked another, which he dared ,
notputin‘wbrds. “ Will she still love this broken-v

down and altered man—unaltered in heart it is true,
huti all else how sadly changed!” , ‘ -
Aug-rest ity for him rose in my heart as I thought

what we (1 be his late if she should ﬁnd the change
too great, and refuse to see in the toil-worn wanderer
her old love. But while ’i seemed to see this hang-
ing over him as a dark possibilitg, my knowledge of -
Maud’s character ve me conﬂ ence to say:

“ Do not be old friend: your love 5 worthy
of you, and will t all the same or you nowas she
did Phat your life was undimmed by care and nor-e
ggﬁamﬁ your looks unchanged by toll and stiller-r

CHAPTER X11.
3 7 can IND or ALL.

Afr A--.-'-some news eted us: Solace? had
received a  hﬁmegﬁ: whlcéilét wgsio’mﬁ
We. that . pton ’5 rich un '
died, and had “8 to his

hemttheshould eves-below: . oldman
:ofopinionthatashgoaotual sothisdeath'

, t llbealive;buti£
htdldnottumu? ra- rmetten eamthen,
 tshouldrevarttoan branch
W

tunily, distuit cousins ot Hugh‘s whom he had
HmﬂAmﬁmhoonndedtoSolme,

' .andsomeothemanhe ew

Whi- _ anditscause. ‘

ﬁshed been surrounded, while out sketchin . by

seized and carried into the

here at

him;hemsde

hrgssnmotmone to eawaywith him. This
chietprudent%re&ctedthathe trealisestill
money vetnaniihe
heundertookthe

. him as s

V ‘ him,and th‘eemman torwhom

the . Melton was,-
smo the hill

would. never be

«threads, mt and d
 soldto hetribetvit which I ad foun
 vﬁfzinbrl was story."l"here was but
onernanlnthe regiment who bore him enmity'or-Q
hath-emu to wish himout otthe war there could
be little doubt-ants the i r of thiaoownrdu
crlniaybut wevhad no pros and utter och de-v

 the one More . e 6610-:
I and urzi toinsiston eGameron’s answer-i;
. him; The wing

  
room, now the stern“ ,
accusing faces gathered round him, he grew pale to J
his  mid'seemed tors minute “though he Would

:favalauenﬁAt that moment it he had shapin‘ us.
I drool treatmentstmy ‘7 who
(’5 on him’ t
WW him a chair.

 erl his
“5;

‘ *mbnndrelwe have
' us the door c
 estimates.” .
As. g theissttime Cameronoomesscmssthe
' }‘ «storm I may be permitted to mention

' "on  “i do

that mills» sawhim he was acting as croqu

_ a 6611an Th

tithing, after all: and
was I that i

everman had in hisneed? Ascam
northwestern
r“ we " m, '* "
on; --—-. was far
return to England, and to satisfyhimw '

withhisown‘eyesot is

‘ I could have felt um mayhem, to or-i; ,
has says! my end: '
um

 
 ‘otf‘mut;  i

"I'? warmthe‘ »

my mind as to the course I should pursue, intended
to acoompan him.

It ,was a- du wet day about the beginning of June
when we arrived in London. I knew from my-mo—
ther' where to look for the Meareses, for they had
long ago taken: up their abode in the capital. We

in his claim to his uncle’s property, and to talk over
business matters, while i wantito. Mrs.» Monroe’s
lodgings to break the news to Maud that onehad in-
deed returned from the dead, as I murmured to my—
self, . repeating sadly, the words of the Arab 3-
prophecy. He was tofollow. methither ‘ as Quickly
as he could, and I hoped fervently his coming would
not be long delayed. Once. the news was told, I
should-ﬁndeachmlnute passed with. her an age of
Rain tilt-I could'make my esca  I drove: to the

cues quickly,va h.in.m .sta of one every
moment seemed an our. hat if she ould have
taught herself? to consider'h’im‘as dead, and :to look
on me as her future husband; , nay had even per-
haps to love me? I, thought 1 had heard
of sue things, and with a beating heart 1. ho

sinst be e as I mounted the narrow stairs to er
1i tle draw --room. '

 
i. V, H /‘ -
1   100;
2DonJow. ByLordDyron..._  80o.
alumnus-Jinan. ByJohn Milton ........  10c.

'rd'TnnLAnronrnnLAns. SirWaltex-Seott... 10c.
15 gum. 4i? OwenMeredith ..... .....  100.
6 Know: '0' ran Wlusﬁrzm. From the

» Germanoh‘nederieh behemoth) Fouque... 10c.
. For mic-by-mlnewsdealein'm'sants postsgepaid,
(my receipts: involve centric:- single lian

double hummiwenty‘touroents. ‘ ,

f: j ADAMS, VIC’I‘OB’EOO..Puhlisbei-s,

 
/ ' 0! her affection. to reel.
WWW!“ necessary: I. whom

A

“William street, N. Y.

 
arranged that Hugh should go to his lawyer’s to put-

VVavt-n‘leyi Library.

1 THE_MASXED Barns. By Mrs. Mary Réed Crows“...

WAS 12: Levin? By Wm. Mason  ,

Tm: Gnu. WIFE. B Hartley 1‘; .Csfnpbell. _

A BRAVE Hum. Ara. So thwarth.

Rimes, m can nu. Wm. M..’l‘umer.

nonn'rMARonn. ‘By ears extort

A Dwen'rna or Evn.‘ [B M) s. Mary Reed Crowell:

8 HEART 'ro Hum. By sheila Southworth.

9 ALONE IN rim Worm. B Author of 901m."
10 A PAIR on Gun EYES. y Rose Kennedy. '
11 Emmam. .By Henrietta Thackeray. V
12 HIS LAWFUL Winn. MrsLAnn s. htephens.
13 Manon, m 14mm menses. By cushman,
14 WHY I MAsnnnn Hm. By Sara Claxion. ,
15 A Fun FACE. By. Hartley T. Camfbell. , , . i
16 Thus/r HEB. Nor. . By Margaret Le oester. : '  ’

17 ALor n Lovna. By Arabella Southworih. ' '

18 HIS IDOL. B Mrs. Mary Reed Ci-owell. i ,— "

19 Beam moms. By Ms Grace Helpine.
20 Om NEIL. THE Oman Gin-L; B

21 Now AND Foams.

iv

 
91 Jim. ,By‘cnmesneaae: ‘ _
92 EILEEN, ALARNA. By Dennis 
renews Vim. ByB. um, .

04 The Qomr Burr. By lire. Oliphsnt.

'95 LE’I‘TIOE Arrow. By Mrs.ijh. .7 .
.96 Ems-ran Home By Rachel Bernhardt.

But all no ho it indeed Lever reall enter- 22 THE Bu“ 0" A” Am“- By Ant “
tamed them, selﬁsh met her quiet friend]; smile, 23 LEAP YEAR 3 Walton- ' ’
her frank outstretched hand. There was none of the ’34 HER FACE W.“ 3‘3 Fommm Bymeam!‘ 
sh timldit oflove, none otitsha pygladnessvisible 5‘5 on A scammmss' Ara-bemvsoutW--
inﬂow quit Gym She wﬁmedlme as one 26.Wrr. our A Hum. By Col. Prentiss Ir am.
welcomes a dear rusted 1mm, a brother perhe , 2’1 Wu 81m A W? By Henrietta Thackeray.
but no more. We were alone; so there was not a m cm”- Mrs- Ann 3' Ste
togreventmytellingherevermlng This Idid in 99 FOR F1qu - 15' Sam 0 m
as aw words as possible. keep my eyes ﬁxed on 30 T“ 39min“ Gm BKIAgﬂe Penne- ‘
one particular bunch of ﬂowers in the ttern-of the 31 A m manna" B 9‘17 A' Emma” ‘
carpehand yet seal distinctly the 5331: in 3’3 MI ’1“in NM 3 A- Mimi?!“-
her cheeks, anda tron led look dim her ear 33 m m“ SW- 33’ Am” emmg-
ms. I could see the trembling of the w ite hands 34 A WW 0? (WWW 33’ 3”“ 013m“.
pedi her lap, the nervous, hurried breathm 35 W AGW- By 013” Am“
m mufﬁn,“ on. I spared mm" inlmmgy; § 36 Sm Am s Bums. B Arabella Southworth.
felt almost as it making myself basein her es was 3; HI”: 00mm“ Chum“ Rose Ken °
in some sort doing penance tormy 1:321:30: my 3 ‘5 0"" “mg By A ..“ mum-w“
friend. I told even of that—of mywi desire: to 9 munon' y Ralph Ron-1'
leave himtheretohistate.andcouldfeelher large 4 gammmm. m“?- ﬁsaﬁcmm
eyes turned on me with a look of sorrowful re-. 1 mm ‘m- 3? °° 9mm -
_3hemenMawom “Imtmmw 423mmon,rnn3umm. B‘A. thworth.
what has at A——-I, when suddenly I 32 g: 0 ﬁg? SWW'ByBiuce “Wig? I
33rd a  to the door" mwnwy“ 3‘3“; 4511133 Hmmm For. By Arabella Boutbworih.
“All  yonwili hear from him. «Youare ‘3 T“ L‘nmmﬁgm'a 3’ 1:3“ ' 3' mm
free forevertrom the promise ‘I once forced from ~ 47 W83?! H m , 1" (“we Flemm'
on. reduest only I make of r on. Do not let ‘8 o? W“ 3" S‘ ' Shel-Wm
m know that his Tim M tween me and 49 Hrs Hum s Mrsmass. ~Mirabella Southworth
all that I hold most dear in life. It would mar his 50  gm W3 H e M $136330”.
iness and e blaming heartifheth ht. 51 ° 0‘?“ W- Y “We M8-
for a moment 1: his peace had been purchased y 52 THE Wm” “mm” 33' Mm ’ R'me
ea of mm Yew me‘pm were we» 53 Adults Born. in Mass. Bme. .Turner.
gleam. ﬂ“ them fareweu!” . , , . . 54 Om: Wows Hus-r. BE Geo es. mime.
, u Good 1,. ad and We, farewell to she murmured 55 i m: 011) Nor Lovn Hm. y A. uthworth.
as she held out hex-hand to me, with tears ﬂoating, 5“ MVE'M‘D' By Wm M3?” "me" M: D-
..inher deep sort 6 es. . I raised it foremomentto ﬁg  GEEK  I‘kmlngm,  11
my ii and hu ed from the room, feeli «as 59A€v 1‘. w ' B ’8‘,  We
' .m .»_nght—h’d “dam .be-en in IPOWS 'ILIS. .   .
r ‘ indium. mm danmauw  , 60 C 3 Door. r. By rs. Jennie Davis Burton.
1. %nm,m1 mat: ugh. "“ enhancement ‘génwm‘mngam Bi 

 them and m ‘thisevening;cld»i‘ellow, ’ salt. 63 Ta. ‘5 0 ﬁrm,“ - Mm?” $3" I;

I aslpasszd out, an inanether. minan was once 64 W 3mmqu , D‘sn' 5’ All? I?!” 936’-
mm in chasm " ' '"  "  I 85 T23ﬁVm‘s [Signer BByColcguatf?ew " ‘ '
Musician .Iietttom for Cairnsmndintwnmonths ' ' i , ° B » ~-

Was once more on m Way toIndLa. Iheerd from   Eminmm  gyig’ﬁwl 80 Eh”de 
my‘slster that-MaudyM'eares’s wedding was-a. very 68 “VIE? “1)..me Br“ 'enamgz.  i
» one. f‘Youj know,7’shewrote, at one time 09 C . r» » a Byﬂvmdd  i. f  f. -95“
. fancied on trouser, and that even she liked you; :70 mtm‘ilﬁg o ‘ a If. Dmmﬁﬁv ‘ i ’ 4 -
‘bht next t'your friend,wh;0~ was always hanging: p in Y ' '  wv .' ‘H-r '
atM-lrwhstomh‘eintohisnnole’spro .he has/"1. Y .mmw“ 1;? - Egg-4“,“ [1,116. El  
' .  81%;}an nee hang»?    h; Maude E on;  "  
‘ i f‘ "3 n 1 fetch; ‘ ' ' Will’s Glen. ' e '  . iii": .
 mgﬂti‘mm‘i 175'. m‘ Wanner-ms ”
handsome again  r ‘ " -; g; l .
my!“  r 25' ’7’. " :~ I ‘
 ou’didnotesre for» - if” “Hen 
i { ~iﬂ‘yourhm.m3 aA: 0 m ,, . u  s. .  ‘
 W5” ._,.;I i. ! i'u t .I,  ’ ' 5'   ‘
:to renamed it? mouth/no ‘1“ my ' » ~’ ‘ ~    -‘ -'
Mindoro ,mew‘w’r “" 'A msw‘  gym“  7 '
d? “x "‘e a... 32:” W e gimme??? .  gt.  .  .r 7 as.
Magnum l1;  ’53! the authored}? ,‘hn
magehmotﬂlecmm h ‘ was   l l 4 33%;?» I
my «aw eneven, think ' A V py»  ﬁrm "  w eve Feunlet.’ V . h  f: e
M new, PM! MIME“? ea, JAM's,WAK¢8- LBy  ‘
’ a.  . ' .sz'BomwsroonYouxsm;
  Hui-"mm  31 Investment  . m4 4 
;‘  . :s ’ . rain ' 90 Tax Mason‘s Dwenmi ,B‘yMaryHoWlﬁg .

' 9'? Hum Mum-ox. By Catherine King.

.98ALIon'mem.,ByMlssMu10¢- ' .
9s Mom Baron’s 1.0m. By Mary Patrlok.
loo/Tammi: am my wine. By Fred. rm,

101mm. BymssMulook.
4 ‘Anewiasmmry'mek. 

For sale all‘Newsdeslexs, ‘ ce'iive cents esch,’ .
W paid. “T909113than ,

arsent,

 
BEADLE AND ADAMS,  .
98 William stimuli; Ya